Chapter 9

Barely catching her breath, Alena trudged forward, another merciless lesson awaiting. Arcanum’s relentless pace left little room for luxuries like rest—or dignity?.

And today? Today was the worst of them all.

Magic power measurement.

The Grand Hall buzzed with anticipation.

This was it—the moment when every student’s magic potential would be laid bare for all to see, judge, and, in some cases, mock mercilessly.

Alena stepped into the chamber where the test would take place.

At its center, the Orb pulsed, a swirling galaxy of raw power trapped in glass, looking both majestic and slightly menacing.

Freshmen lined up, their nervous murmurs filling the space. One by one, they approached the Orb, their faces cycling between dread and forced bravado.

Some fainted outright, which, honestly, was an understandable reaction.

Alena simply waited, fingers tightening into fists. She had trained for this. She was not going to faint.

Mmmm...Hopefully...

When her name was called, a dramatic hush fell over the hall, quickly followed by the snickers of those who apparently chose mocking as their hobby.

“The ugly half-blood thinks she belongs here?” someone muttered.

“This should be amusing,” another added with a smirk.

Alena sighed.

Ah yes..she almot forgot about the daily reminder that some students had too much free time and not enough common sense.

She stepped forward, ignoring them all, focusing instead on the cold reality before her.

Unlike others born in Elandria who had a grasp of magic knowledge since birth, she had wrestled with it, clawed her way through lessons while others glided effortlessly.

Her first year had been a battlefield—spells slipping through her fingers, theories tangling in her mind, expectations pressing down on her like an avalanche.

She had spent sleepless nights memorizing ancient texts, endured countless failures, and forced herself to improve inch by inch.

If talent wouldn’t get her there, sheer stubbornness would!

Taking a steadying breath, she placed her palm against the Orb.

A brilliant white light erupted from within, blinding, divine, utterly impossible.

“No way,” someone shouted.

Unlike the dull glows of her peers, the Orb shimmered intensely, its light cascading in waves of raw energy, illuminating every corner of the chamber.

The disbelief was immediate, the whispers thick with denial.

Alderin, maybe… but a half-blood?

The Orb must be broken. Family bloodline. A fluke.

Alena remained impassive.

She had spent nearly a year enduring their sneers—she would not let them shake her now.

The only thing that mattered was that she had done it. She had proven something, if only to herself.

The professor’s eyes lingered on her hand a moment too long before he regained his composure.

“You may remove your hand,” he said, his voice clipped, betraying the slight tremor beneath.

With careful control, she withdrew her palm, exhaling quietly.

The professor scribbled notes on his parchment, though his grip on the pen was notably unsteady.

The ordeal was grueling for everyone.

A girl collapsed outright, and everyone reacted with alarm.

Without hesitation, the professors called upon the girl’s personal house spirit to carry her away, and the process continued with murmurs and whispers from the students.

Only Lucian Evergale and Alena stood calm and unaffected.

When he stepped forward, the black crystal orb flared, its glow crackling with raw energy.

Black lightning arced violently around it, flickering like a storm barely contained.

Yet, despite the display, Lucian remained perfectly composed, removing his hand with effortless control, as if the immense surge of power were nothing to him.

His expression all but declared, 'I’m the best in the world, and you’re all just scum.'

A prickle ran down Alena’s spine as his gaze flickered toward her, sharp with curiosity—and, perhaps, a very healthy dose of I’m still better than you.

She didn’t look back.

She had better thing to do—one that didn’t involve entertaining Lucian Evergale’s I’m-better-than-you theatrics...

Look, Lucian Evergale and the Luminari were basically walking, talking popularity contests, and in Arcanum, popularity was less yay, friends! And more oh great, now everyone’s watching, which means I’m doomed.

Survival Rule Number One: Avoid shiny people. Especially shiny people who think they’re the best.

*****

Life at Arcanum was relentless.

Lessons bled into each other, food was a distant memory, and the library became her second home. One night, as she buried herself in a particularly obscure tome, a steaming plate of food appeared beside her.

She glanced up to see Aria, her house's spirit, watching her with exasperation.

“You’ll turn into a ghost if you don’t eat,” Aria scolded.

“Even great mages need fuel.”

Alena managed a tired smile.

“Fuel for what, exactly? This place is a maze, and I haven’t even found the way out.”

“Don’t talk like that. You’re brilliant, Alena. Everyone sees it.”

Aria’s smile faltered.

"Brilliant? Or just... watched? They're all watching me. Lucian, especially. I feel like a specimen, a rare animal in a zoo."

"Then let them watch. Dare them to look away."

Aria's voice was serious and unwavering.

For the first time in a long while, warmth flickered in Alena’s chest.

Yes... let them watch. Watch her rise. Watch her become something greater.

***

Alena steadily adapted to Arcanum’s demanding rhythm, her drive pushing her forward.

It had almost been a year since she arrived at Arcanum, yet solitude remained her only constant companion.

The professors neither questioned her nor critiqued her work.

They simply accepted her assignments and moved on.

Without direct feedback, she relied on listening carefully to evaluations given to other students.

This made Mrs. Edward’s class feel more like a conversation than a lesson. She was the only person who truly spoke to Alena.

Soon, Alena began to anticipate Mrs Edward's lessons, appreciating the rare warmth in her otherwise isolating days.

“Sometimes, I wonder what kind of place the human world is for Alena to be this way,” Mrs. Edward remarked one afternoon during tea with her colleagues.

“Even when I speak harshly, she never minds. She simply listens and replies calmly.”

Despite her initial reservations, Mrs. Edward eventually acknowledged Alena’s diligence, remarking, “Her attitude is impeccable—just like the Alderin family’s famed bloodline.”

One professor whispered to another, “Does Mrs. Edward think she’s the only one who can comment on Alena? Just the other day, she scolded Professor Willowbrook for criticizing Alena, saying he had no right to judge a student he never taught.”

Meanwhile, Alena continued her routine as usual, darting across campus with her hood drawn low.

Occasionally, she felt Lucian Evergale gaze lingering.

He seemed to be present almost everywhere she was.

One evening, she subtly lifted her gaze under the cover of her hood, meeting his eyes—his stare held an unspoken certainty about her.

Alena met his gaze briefly before calmly looking away.

"Ah yes, another day of being the most fascinating hooded figure in Arcanum," she mused dryly.

"Maybe if I start walking backward, they’ll think I’m performing some ancient Alderin ritual and finally leave me alone."

The magic power assessments had ended, and with them, any reason for Alena to cross paths with Lucian.

She hoped this would make her days quieter.

Arcanum had no structured vacations like human schools. Instead, students were given breaks after exams—if they passed.

Freshmen, facing their first major test, were tense. Failing twice meant expulsion, so the pressure was immense.

Alena, determined to secure her place at the top of the class, immersed herself in rigorous study, completely focusing on the major test that was approaching.

Unbeknownst to her, the other students were watching.

Lucian Evergale and the Luminari were born into prestige, their every action noted by society.

The first exam meant nothing to them.

But Alena was different—a half-blood with no prior knowledge of the Elandria magic realm.

Yet, she had filled the magic power orb with a vivid white divine light, proving that her abilities were undeniable. Some believed she would pass effortlessly, while others suspected her lack of theoretical knowledge would be her downfall.

Unbeknownst to her, whispers followed in her wake, eyes tracking her every move with curiosity and speculation.

Oblivious, she made her way to Mrs. Edward’s classroom that afternoon, her heart light.

After a quick knock, she opened the door without waiting for a reply.

“Mrs. Edward?”

Silence.

The room, usually filled with the professor’s stiff presence, was empty.

Frowning, Alena stepped inside, intending to wait.

“She won’t be coming.”

A voice from behind made her spin around.

Lucian Evergale leaned casually against the bookshelves, watching her with unreadable eyes.

Ah, of course. My favorite class—being graced with the presence of the oh-so-mighty Lucian Evergale. What a privilege.

“Tsk..tsk.., Miss Hoodie Alderin, are you always this oblivious?”