The Avatar of Chaos

The sharp toll of the academy's bell rang across the open field, signaling the end of the Tactical Magic & Field Application lesson. Professor Halcorth, ever brusque, waved the students off with a curt, "Dismissed." She didn't mentioned what they would do tomorrow or if they were good. This was it.

Lilith smoothed her uniform jacket, her emerald eyes distant as she replayed her performance in her mind. Tamsin and Lyra flanked her as they made their way toward the arched path leading back toward the main building. Alaric followed at an easy pace, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable but faintly amused.

They had barely taken a dozen steps when a sharp, mocking voice called after them."Well, well. Looks like some of us think we're quite impressive," came the sneer.

The group halted. Lilith turned her head calmly to find the two girls from earlier—Vivienne, and the pale, snake-eyed girl—blocking their way with the subtlety of a brick wall.

Vivienne's lips curled in an exaggerated pout. "Leaving so soon, Silford?" she cooed, her tone syrupy-sweet but her eyes venomous. "I thought you might stay to give the rest of us a demonstration. Or is your little performance earlier the only trick you know?"

Tamsin stiffened at Lilith's side, but Lilith merely tilted her head, her voice smooth as glass. "I wasn't aware we were holding a contest. If we were, I missed your entry."

A few nearby students slowed to watch the unfolding confrontation, whispers already rippling through the gathering crowd.

Vivienne's smile twitched. Her hands flexed at her sides, fingers trembling slightly as she gathered magic. The wind at her feet stirred—a clumsy, visible spellform with no finesse. "Let's see if you're half as clever when someone actually fights you," she snapped. With a guttural chant, she threw her palm forward, a jagged shard of air magic lashing toward Lilith.

The chant was mediocre at best, but it was still far better than the usual first years. However, that didn't apply to Lilith. The moment felt sluggish to her senses. She didn't flinch. She didn't chant.

Her hand rose lazily, and with a flick of her fingers, a thin veil of air—sharper, cleaner, perfectly controlled—snapped the spell apart midair. The magic unraveled in a harmless wisp that vanished on the breeze.

Gasps rippled through the onlookers.

Vivienne's face paled, then flushed scarlet in fury. She tried again, forcing the chant faster, but her power sputtered uselessly, her control unraveling under her own panic, causing her spell to disappear like a soft breeze.

A few of the onlookers snickered.

Vivienne flushed red. Gritting her teeth, she snapped, "I wasn't—!"

"You weren't anything," Lilith interrupted coolly, her emerald gaze sharp as glass. "If you're going to cast, at least do it properly. Otherwise, you'll embarrass yourself more than you already have." Lilith's gaze, remained fixed. Cold. Sharp. "This isn't a game."

Vivienne's jaw clenched. Beside her, Selene remained silent, her gaze focused on Lilith with something unreadable in her dark eyes.

Alaric's presence behind Lilith was calm but subtly protective. He didn't move, but Lilith knew he was ready to act if this escalated.

"Let's go," Lilith murmured to her friends, already turning away and leaving Vivienne's side without giving her another glance. The others followed, Tamsin hiding a small grin, Lyra visibly relieved, and Alaric smirking faintly under his breath.

They left Vivienne frozen in place, her face burning with humiliation, her magic abandoned in the still air.

Only when they had slunk far enough away did the tension break. As they passed through the watching students, some threw Lilith awed glances, others whispered behind cupped hands.

Tamsin exhaled sharply. She then let out a joyous laugh. "That was amazing!" she breathed. "Everyone was so sick of that girl. I'm so glad that you put her in her place, Lilith."

Lilith gave a soft chuckle. "Let's just get to lunch," she interrupted gently, her calm mask slipping back into place. "No need to talk more about that girl. I'm starving."

"Right, lunch time! The cafeteria shouldn't be too far away from here." Tamsin said energetically.

"I-I feel drained. I could really use some warm food..." Lyra shyly commented as they walked through the corridors.

The scent of warm bread, roasted meats, and fresh herbs drifted through the air as Lilith and her friends stepped into the Academy's sprawling common cafeteria. A tall ceiling of arched glass let in the soft midday light, illuminating long rows of polished wooden tables where students in black-and-silver uniforms clustered together in lively groups.

Lilith allowed herself a small breath of ease. This moment—away from spells, evaluations, and veiled threats—felt remarkably normal.

"Over here!" Elias's voice called out before they could scan the room.

At the far end near a sunlit window, Elias and Raffin were already seated, waving them over with broad grins. Elias had his sword propped carefully beside his seat, his usual energy practically radiating from him. 

Tamsin's eyes lit up. "Oh, I'm starving," she said with her usual cheer, tugging Lyra along by the sleeve as they quickly head towards the food line to grab their lunch. Lilith nodded her head towards her brother but followed the girls in step.

They quickly grabbed their trays and filled it with the food they wanted to eat before heading to the table the boys reserved for them. Her expression softened as she caught sight of her brother's beaming face. She slid into the seat beside him with practiced grace.

She was about to ask a question when someone cleared their throat. When she looked up, she saw Alaric, standing near the table. She raised one of her eyebrows in question. Alaric, ever polite, spoke with a calm tone.

"Would you mind if I were to join you?"

Lilith looked at the table. Her friends giving smiles at her. She felt like she has became the leader of the group somehow. And noticing that no one was objecting, she gave a shrug and pointed towards the seat next to her.

"If that is what you wish, feel free to do so." 

"Thank you."

As Alaric settled in to his seat, Lilith gave him a curious look. "Will we be seing you hanging with us more often?"

Alaric thought about it for a moment before giving a polite nod. "Only if the group wouldn't mind."

"Why would we? It's not like you are Vivienne or one of her spies to ruin our mood!" Tamsin said with her usual cheery voice.

"True. I'm just here to enjoy your company." Alaric said with a look towards Lilith's way, resting his chin on one hand with a rare glimmer of amusement in his dark purple eyes.

Lilith noticed his gaze but did not say a word. Wanting to change the subject, she turned towards her brother.

"Did you survive the drills?" She asked dryly, casting a glance at Elias's slightly disheveled hair.

He huffed, puffing out his chest. "Please. I was the best in the group. Raffin's the one who tripped on his own sword," he teased, elbowing his friend with a playful grin.

Raffin groaned. "I did not trip. I—misjudged the turn," he defended weakly, though the laughter that followed showed he wasn't truly bothered.

"You did fall pretty hard," Elias corrected him. With that, the two of them started bickering.

The table filled with easy conversation after that: Tamsin shared a funny tale about nearly summoning mud instead of solid earth in her practicals, Lyra shyly mentioned her progress with air spells, and how it felt to finally be able to use them, and Elias animatedly described how cruel but amazing their instructor was—his hands waving dramatically as he recreated the moves mid-air.

Lilith, still calm but visibly more at ease than usual, found herself joining in here and there—offering a gentle correction to Elias's exaggerated story, or nodding along to Lyra's quiet explanations. Even Alaric, usually measured and careful with his words, relaxed enough to chuckle softly at Raffin's self-deprecating jokes.

No one brought up magic evaluations, elemental control, or titles. For that brief stretch of time, they were just children—nobles or not—sharing bread and laughter beneath the golden shafts of sunlight.

Before long, the bell chimed, ending the group's chatter and laughter as they rose from the cafeteria table, clearing away trays and shouldering invisible burdens once more. The afternoon sun was gentler now, casting soft gold across the Academy grounds as the students dispersed toward their next classes.

Alaric offered a polite nod, adjusting the hem of his uniform coat. "I won't be joining you for the afternoon classes," he said, his voice calm as ever. "Swordsmanship courses calls."

Elias gave him a thumbs-up. "See you later then! Try not to injure yourself," he teased, drawing a faint smirk from Alaric before the boy turned on his heel and headed for the opposite wing.

"Guess this is where we split for now," Elias said, giving a lazy stretch before flashing a grin at Lilith. "Don't fall asleep in that dusty old language class, yeah?"

Raffin chuckled, nudging Elias's shoulder. "We'll take on the serious stuff—swordplay ethics and all that," he teased, his voice light despite the dull prospect of the upcoming lecture. "See you at the stables later."

Lilith gave her brother a look—half amusement, half fond exasperation. "Behave," she murmured, her voice calm but carrying that older-sibling weight. "No detentions."

"Yeah, yeah," Elias huffed, waving a hand before heading off with Raffin toward the northern wing, where the Combat Ethics & Chivalry class awaited.

Left behind, Lilith, Tamsin, and Lyra shared a glance before turning toward the ancient language building. The corridors grew quieter as they walked, the buzz of swordfighters fading behind them. 

"So," Tamsin broke the silence, her earthy tone light as always, "Linguistics. Bet half the kids in this class won't even last the hour without snoring."

Lilith's lips twitched at that, but she kept her usual composed mask. "I suppose that depends on how interesting the professor is," she murmured.

The door to the classroom loomed ahead—an arched entryway carved with flowing runes and the crests of old noble houses long forgotten. Stepping inside, the air scented faintly of old parchment, ink, and candle wax. Long tables stretched beneath tall arched windows, and along the walls, faded banners displayed ancient scripts—loops, jagged lines, and symbols no ordinary citizen could decipher.

Lilith, flanked by Tamsin and Lyra, claimed seats at the back as usual. Lilith settled with practiced poise, but her mind already drifted toward the evening's Horse Riding class and the long hours that lay ahead.

A hush fell over the room without any announcement.

A man—the Professor Lilith assumed—was simply there, as if the shadows had birthed him. Dressed in somber green robes, the man moved with eerie grace, every step quiet yet deliberate. His hollow cheeks and sharp hazel eyes gave him a ghostly, unsettling presence. A raven followed him in, wings barely making a sound as it perched silently on a brass stand near the window, its beady gaze scanning the room.

Without preamble, the man's low, rasping voice cut through the stillness. "I am Professor Maithe," he said simply, his expression unreadable. "You may call me sir or professor. This is Linguistics: Old Tongue and Rune Reading. By the end of this term, you will either grasp the words that shaped our world—or you will be better off keeping silent."

The raven let out a single soft croak, as though to punctuate his words.

Lilith straightened, instinctively alert. Tamsin whispered something under her breath but fell silent when those eyes briefly passed over them.

At last, Maithe's voice broke the silence—a cold, quiet rasp that demanded attention without raising in volume.

"Language is power. In this class, you will learn the languages of the dead, the runes of forgotten ages, and the chants of the ancients who bent reality with syllables alone."

He raised a long-fingered hand and, with precise strokes, chalked a single spiral-shaped rune onto the blackboard.

"This symbol," he continued, "means 'to unmake.' If carved incorrectly, it might mean 'to consume' or 'to burn.' One misplaced curve, one faltering voice, and you invite disaster."

Several students shifted nervously. Lyra's eyes gleamed with fascination, while Tamsin furrowed her brow in concentration. Lilith, ever composed, merely nodded to herself—she already knew the importance of precision in magic far better than most.

Professor Maithe stepped aside, gesturing toward blank sheets of parchment set before each student.

"Today, you will copy the basic structure of the Elder Spiral Script that can be found in your class books and recite its phonetics. You will do this until your hand cramps or until the bell rings. Whichever comes first. Tomorrow, we will dive deep into the meaning of runes."

The scratching of quills filled the room as they set to work. The only other sound was the soft croak of the raven, who fluttered his wings and let out a sound that could have been a laugh—or a warning.

Lilith's hand moved swiftly but carefully, her mind oddly at ease amidst the precision. This class, at least, held no swords, no flames—only ink and thought. Which made her happy. It wasn't even the end of the first day at the academy and she was already feeling suffocated. But this class would help her empty her mind and focus on just learning.

At least, that is what she hoped.