River walked back to his dorm, the new schedule clutched loosely in his hand.

  His mind was a storm of confusion.

  Had any of it really happened?

  If he closed his eyes, would he find himself back in Norvil again—shivering in that narrow, bitter-cold alcove above the tavern, where the wind slipped through the cracks and sleep had been his only relief from the pain?

  Everything was moving too fast.                                     He pushed open the door to his room and trudged inside, barely glancing at Callum, who was still sprawled on his bunk, snoring softly. Callum had seemingly decided he needed a nap before classes started up again.                                     River didn’t even bother to change.

  He climbed into his bed and collapsed, burying his face in the pillow as if he could press all his problems into the fabric and leave them there.

  He knew he’d never need sleep again—knew it deep in his bones.

  But right now, more than anything, he wished he could.

  His thoughts churned with questions and doubt, minutes blurring into seconds. He just needed something — anything — to hold onto.

  Finally, desperate for something to anchor him, River swung down from the bunk.

  He moved to the desk, pulled open the drawer, and laid the red book gently on the surface.

  Flipping it open, he whispered hoarsely into the quiet room:                                     “Emery... I need your help. Soul training. Anything. Please.”

  He needed something—anything—to keep himself grounded.

  Before he truly lost himself.                                     As River pushed his mind inward, the world around him faded.

  His questions, his doubts, even the constant pressure gnawing at him — all of it slipped away.

  Only the elements remained.                                     He cycled through his affinities—earth, fire, water, air—feeling the flow of essence strengthen with each pass.

  This time, it lasted longer.

  This time, he felt progress.

  Still, it wasn’t enough.

  He needed more.

  A voice rumbled in his head. “Kid, you’re done for today.”

  River opened his eyes, blinking against the sudden harshness of the dorm’s lighting.                                     Standing beside him, looking groggy and bewildered, was Callum.

  His gaze drifted from the open red book to River’s hand... and froze.

  A heartbeat later, Callum stumbled back, pointing at River’s finger as if he had seen a ghost.                                     “What the hell?” Callum blurted, far louder than he probably intended. Even he looked surprised at the volume of his own voice.

  "How the hell did you get that already?!"                                     River followed his gaze to the thin, black band of essence circling his finger.

  He sighed, exhaustion weighing down every bone in his body. "I got my ass beat by Alerus in a soul battle," River muttered. "Then he gave me this. And no, I have no idea why losing earned me a promotion."                                     Callum stood frozen, mouth opening and closing, no words forming.

  Finally, he shook his head, disbelief twisting his face. "I've been trying to get that for over a year," Callum said, voice low, almost to himself. "And you... you come in here on your second day and..." He trailed off, his expression shifting, not to anger, but to something harder. Determination. Without another word, Callum turned and strode toward the door. He glanced back once, fire burning in his tired eyes.                                     "I won't be left behind anymore," he said.                                     "I'm going to class. I’ll study as much as it takes. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve."                                     There was no trace of Callum’s usual humor. River knew, just by the way he said it—he meant every word.

  Then he was gone, the door swinging closed behind him with a soft click. River slumped back in his chair, the silence pressing in once again.                                     River knew his new class would be starting soon, but he really didn’t want to go. But he didn’t want Alerus on his ass either, so he followed Callum out into the hallway, schedule clutched in hand.

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  It read: Room 302.                                     And despite the glances that still followed him, he was starting to adjust.

  With each one, his exterior hardened—until their stares couldn’t reach him anymore.                                     He remembered seeing that room, it was close to the Headmaster’s office.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t need directions to find it. As he made his way down the corridors, his mind churned. How would the other students react to a new classmate?

  How powerful were they really?

  And most of all... could he actually learn something from Kidrin?

  The sound of approaching footsteps anchored him back to reality…

  River drifted deeper into thought, but then froze mid-step. The feeling again.

  The creeping sensation of being watched. He glanced around casually. Students bustled through the halls, chatting, laughing, hurrying to classes. Nothing unusual. No one staring at him more than usual. Still, a chill crawled down his spine. He shook it off and kept walking, filing the feeling away for later.                                     Something was off. He just didn’t know what yet. When he reached the corridor near the Headmaster’s wing, he spotted them instantly.

  Four students stood grouped together, deep in conversation. Kidrin had to be among them.

  He squared his shoulders and walked toward them, trying to look confident. The group noticed him—four pairs of eyes flicked in his direction, sharp and calculating. Then, just as quickly, they turned away, resuming their conversation like he wasn’t even there.

  River caught the sound of a muffled snicker. It wasn’t loud, but it cut deep.

  They laughed like he didn’t belong — like power wasn’t enough.

  He should’ve expected it.

  But it still stung.

  For the past few hours, he’d dared to hope — to believe that maybe, just maybe, he would be accepted.

  And this… this was his welcome.                                     Determined not to let it rattle him, he walked closer and cleared his throat, coughing politely to get their attention—giving them a chance to acknowledge him.

  Nothing. They didn’t even glance his way.                                     River sighed and leaned against the nearest wall, forcing himself to stand straighter. Weakness wouldn’t be tolerated — not here. Voices drifted through the corridor ahead, low and fast. He wasn’t close enough to make out full sentences, but a few fragments reached his ear:

  “...still no sign...”

  “...last seen near the edge of the Hollow...”

  “Headmaster said to keep it quiet... We need something the coucil can explain before it gets out.”

  He frowned. Apparently, a few upper-tier students had recently gone missing while out collecting herbs and materials for their courses. There was no official announcement. Just whispers—quickly shushed if someone new got too close. And now, fear was building. If the Council found out, everyone agreed — things would change. And not for the better.                                     The familiar pressure of paranoia tugged at his chest. In Norvil, when people disappeared, it usually meant someone wanted them gone. River’s skin prickled. Nothing about this place felt safe. He was more on edge here than he ever did on the streets. At least in Norvil, there was no illusion of safety. Here, they dressed danger in silk and called it structure. But that didn’t make it any less real.                                     River didn’t get to ponder the questions the new revelations brought up for long. It wasn’t long before a bell rang, a soft but commanding chime that echoed down the corridor.

  From one of the nearby offices, Alerus emerged.

  He strode past the clustered students without sparing them a glance, heading straight for River with a familiar easy smile.                                     "How are you feeling? Ready for some serious training?" Alerus asked, his voice full of mock seriousness. River straightened a little, hiding a smirk. The other students had gone rigid, their eyes wide and disbelieving as they stared at Alerus speaking casually, familiarly to him. River saw the stunned looks and couldn't help but grin slightly.

  "Yes, sir," he said smoothly. "I'm ready." The tension among the other students sharpened even more, but no one said a word as Alerus pushed open the classroom door and waved them inside. The room beyond was big, easily the size of the soul training hall River had attended yesterday, but different.

  No rows of desks. No chairs. Just a wide, soft mat covering the stone floor. River’s pulse quickened slightly.

  This wasn’t going to be a normal class.

  This was where he would get real experience. And somehow... that thought didn’t scare him. It felt like something he’d been waiting for, a chance to learn from the very best.