Curse of Lysertis

The night was calm and serene, as if nature itself had decided to grant a reprieve to those in need of rest. The air remained warm but not stifling, and a light breeze wandered freely through the room via the slightly open window. Outside, the quiet, measured song of crickets only emphasized the stillness. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting intricate patterns on the carpet—shapes that seemed almost alive, inviting closer inspection.

Adam was fast asleep, his face peaceful and relaxed. But his roommate, Fubuki, couldn't sleep at all. He sat on his bed, leaning against the headboard, an expression of deep tension on his face. His hands had turned blue, covered in a thick layer of ice that emitted a cold mist, as if a fragment of winter had settled into the room. His heavy breaths came out in faint clouds of vapor, and his usually blue eyes were slowly shifting to a glowing yellow. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to force away the unsettling light.

"Go away," he muttered through clenched teeth, his voice strained and weary. "Leave me alone," he repeated, a little louder this time, as if addressing an unseen presence.

For a brief moment, the yellow glow in his eyes flickered and vanished, replaced by their usual blue hue, as if nothing had happened. The ice on his hands cracked, breaking off in large chunks that fell to the floor with dull thuds. Gradually, as if yielding to an immense effort, the frost melted away, leaving his hands bare but reddened from the cold.

With a heavy sigh, he got up, grabbed a broom, and started sweeping up the shards of ice scattered across the floor. His movements were slow, as if every second of work drained him. When the floor was finally clear, he put the broom back in its place and lay down again. But sleep never came. His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, where the moonlight shimmered in strange, shifting patterns, while his thoughts drifted somewhere far beyond the room.

Time stretched unbearably. Fubuki lay there until dawn, unmoving, until the sharp sound of an alarm clock shattered the silence. The wall clock read six a.m. The noise pulled him back to reality, making him sit up abruptly. He ran a hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the remnants of the night and muttered under his breath:

"A new day… Gotta pull myself together."

His eyes flicked to Adam, who was still sleeping soundly, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself a small smile. It was a rare moment of ease—however fleeting it might be.

The chime of the clock jolted even Adam awake. He sprang out of bed as if responding to an emergency alarm and rushed toward the clock to silence its grating ring. After switching it off, he leaned back against the wall and slowly slid down to sit on the floor beneath it. His breathing gradually steadied, though his eyes were still squinting from the abrupt awakening.

"Never liked that clock. Sounds awful," he grumbled.

Fubuki, still lying in bed, smirked.

"But it gets the job done. You can't argue with that."

Adam snorted.

"Yeah, no kidding."

After their brief exchange, they began getting ready. As usual, Fubuki dressed as if he were bracing for a snowstorm—long coat, thick scarf, gloves. Adam, on the other hand, threw on a light shirt and trousers, as if the day promised nothing but sunshine. They left the room and locked the door behind them.

The campus was already teeming with life. Students bustled in every direction—some carrying stacks of books, others hurrying off to who-knows-where, while some stood in corners, animatedly discussing the latest news. Paper birds flitted through the air, gliding with an elegant ease. Adam and Fubuki quickly spotted the air mages controlling them, using the exercise to refine their coordination. The hum of voices, laughter, and the barely contained chaos of the morning created an electrifying atmosphere, buzzing with youthful energy.

Fubuki watched the lively scene with a small smile before turning to Adam.

"Is it always like this before the tournament?"

Adam grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

"You better get used to it. It's a tradition. Every year, as the tournament approaches, the whole place comes alive. No one can sit still."

"It's incredible," Fubuki admitted. "At my old school, nothing like this ever happened. I couldn't even dream of this kind of atmosphere."

Adam nodded approvingly.

"Glad you like it. Alright, let's grab some food first, then we'll get you signed up with the committee."

"Sounds like a plan!" Fubuki replied with a cheerful grin.

They made their way toward the campus exit, but as soon as they reached the back courtyard, they were met with an even greater spectacle. The entire space was a whirlwind of training and sparring. Some students were perfecting their spells, others were locked in one-on-one duels, a few practiced martial arts, while onlookers stood at the sidelines, enjoying the action. Shouts, the clash of blows, and bursts of magic filled the air, turning the courtyard into a battlefield of raw energy and skill.

"They've been out here since morning?" Fubuki asked in astonishment, taking in the scene around him.

Adam shrugged. "I'd bet some of them never even went to bed."

"Incredible," Fubuki murmured, his smile widening even further.

Before long, they entered the cafeteria. Despite the early hour, it was already packed with students chatting and eating at their tables. The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with the lively hum of voices and the clatter of dishes. Adam and Fubuki found an open spot in the corner and sat down. After resting for a moment, Adam stood up.

"I'll grab us some food. What do you want?"

Fubuki didn't hesitate. "Same as you."

Adam raised an eyebrow. "Alright… Hope you like it."

Disappearing into the crowd, Adam made his way to the food counter. Fubuki remained at the table, observing the buzz of the cafeteria. Students moved between tables, trays piled high with food. Others leaned in close, laughing over their meals, while on the upper balconies, groups of students animatedly discussed the upcoming events. The whole place felt more like a festival than a typical morning.

Meanwhile, Adam carefully balanced the tray as he navigated his way back, making sure not to spill anything. He was so focused on keeping the drinks steady that he barely noticed Fubuki suddenly appearing beside him.

"What are you doing?" Adam asked, mildly surprised.

Just then, Fubuki swayed slightly but caught himself before losing balance. Adam glanced past him and immediately noticed the towering upperclassman standing behind him, looking thoroughly displeased at the sudden obstacle in his way. Fubuki, rather than engaging, simply muttered a quiet apology and moved on.

"What was that about?" Adam asked, his curiosity now piqued.

Fubuki shrugged. "That guy was heading straight for you. You were walking so slowly with that tray, he would've crashed into you, and then it would've been the whole 'Watch where you're going!' routine. I figured I'd just… avoid all that."

Adam smirked. "So, you protected me?"

"You could put it that way," Fubuki said, grinning. "Here, let me carry that for you." He reached out a hand.

"Alright, fine," Adam relented, passing over the tray. Together, they made their way back to their table and began eating.

"Thanks to Magnus for the food," Fubuki said solemnly, pressing his palms together in mock prayer.

Adam chuckled. "Just eat."

After finishing, they cleared their trays and headed toward the tournament registration office. The academy's hallways were alive with energy. Magical illusions decorated the walls, shimmering in vibrant colors, and the air itself seemed to hum with anticipation. It was clear—the tournament was getting close.

Climbing to the fourth floor, they soon spotted the line outside Room 33. Several dozen students stood ahead, waiting to sign up.

Fubuki tapped the shoulder of a student near the front. The student turned around with a friendly smile, and Fubuki asked, "Excuse me, is this the line for tournament registration?"

"Yeah, that's right. But don't worry, it moves pretty fast," the student replied.

"Thanks a lot!" Fubuki flashed his signature warm smile.

The student nodded in return, but as soon as his gaze shifted to Adam standing behind him, his expression soured. Without another word, he turned back around.

Fubuki noticed the sudden change, pausing briefly before turning toward Adam. The indifferent look on Adam's face told him everything he needed to know.

They had stood in line long enough to feel its length but not so long that it became exhausting. The queue moved quickly, and soon, it was their turn. Fubuki stepped inside, leaving Adam waiting in the hallway.

While Fubuki was inside, Adam could feel the weight of glances from the other students. Some looked at him with curiosity, others with something closer to disapproval. But, to his relief, no one dared to approach him or say anything. It wasn't surprising—behind that door were members of the Magic Department, professors, and even the Headmaster himself. Stirring up trouble here would be nothing short of suicide.

Leaning against the wall, Adam did his best to ignore the stares, mentally rooting for Fubuki, hoping he'd handle the registration without any issues.

Then, the door swung open, and Fubuki emerged, holding a completed registration form. His face lit up with a satisfied smile.

"You're in?" Adam asked, raising a brow.

Fubuki nodded and handed him the paper. Adam scanned through the lines, making sure everything checked out.

"Looks good," he remarked, handing it back.

They were just about to leave when a commanding voice rang out from the office:

"Adam Lancer!"

Adam froze. His muscles tensed, and his heart pounded in his chest. He swallowed hard, feeling his throat go dry.

Fubuki, noticing his reaction, gently turned him by the shoulders and gave him a light push toward the doorway.

"Go on," he whispered in encouragement.

Reluctantly, but without protest, Adam stepped inside. As soon as he crossed the threshold, the door shut behind him with a resounding thud, as if cutting him off from the outside world.

"Step forward, Adam," the Archmage commanded, motioning for him to approach.

Adam felt every gaze in the room settle on him as he moved. His eyes flickered across the faces seated behind the massive oak table. Three academy professors—Professor Charlotte, Professor Adrian, and Professor Aldric—sat in solemn contemplation. Beside them were three robed members of the Magic Department, their dark attire adding to the gravity of the room. And at the very center, like the apex of a triangle, sat the Archmage himself. His presence was as imposing as his title suggested.

"So, this is the infamous Adam Lancer?" one of the Magic Department members mused, eyeing him with thinly veiled amusement.

"Yes, that's correct," the Archmage confirmed, not even glancing at the speaker.

"Huh. I imagined you differently, considering the rumors," the man continued, clearly puzzled.

The weight in the room shifted. Every gaze now turned toward him. Realizing his words had overstepped, the man hesitated, then awkwardly added:

"Uh, don't take it personally. I didn't mean to offend."

Adam remained composed, ignoring the half-hearted apology. His voice was steady when he spoke.

"You called for me. Is something wrong, Headmaster?"

The Archmage leaned back slightly, folding his hands before him as he scrutinized the young man. His gaze was heavy, though not hostile—more like an assessment.

"Yes, Adam," he said at last. "I want you to enter the tournament."

The words carried the weight of an order, though there was no aggression behind them. It felt more like a foregone conclusion, as if the Archmage already knew Adam would comply.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the faint scratching of quills against parchment. Adam could feel every set of eyes locked onto him, waiting for his response.

He exhaled slowly, carefully considering his next words before speaking.