Opposites Attract? Or RepeL?

When I woke up this morning, there was something major that I had forgotten—the beginning of the plot. It officially kicked off the day after the introductions, which meant that right now, I was standing on the training grounds with Ms. Sinclair and the rest of the students.

This was the infamous moment when the original Sera, desperate to assert her superiority, had used her fire magic in a reckless display of power, nearly burning down the entire training grounds in the process. It was a defining scene in the novel, setting her up as the arrogant and unhinged villainess.

But not me. Oh no, I was doing the exact opposite.

"Camille Winters, it's your turn. Hit the target using your magic abilities—just don't go overboard," Evelyn Sinclair instructed, her tone calm but authoritative.

Camille stepped forward with her usual grace, casting a glance in my direction. To my surprise, she smiled before turning her attention to the task at hand.

What's up with her? I wondered, suppressing a sigh.

"Here I go," Camille announced confidently, raising her hand. "Freeze."

In an instant, the training dummy was encased in a thick layer of shimmering ice, every detail of its form preserved perfectly.

"Shatter," she added with a flick of her wrist.

The dummy shattered into precise fragments, its limbs and torso breaking apart as if guided by an unseen artist. The pieces scattered momentarily before dissolving into mist, leaving nothing behind.

"Well done, Camille. As expected, the Winters family has exceptional proficiency in ice magic," Evelyn praised, her expression as calm and composed as ever. With a wave of her hand, the training dummy reassembled itself, ready for the next student.

"Thank you," Camille replied with a slight bow, returning to her spot with an air of effortless elegance.

Typical. Camille was always perfect, a prodigy in every sense of the word. In the novel, her mastery over ice magic reached absurd levels by the climax, earning her the title of an untouchable genius. At this point, calling these heroines "geniuses" felt like an understatement—they were monsters in disguise.

"Next up, Sera Vandren," Evelyn called, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts.

I gulped and stepped forward, feeling all too aware of the weight of everyone's eyes on me. Camille gave me another encouraging smile, followed by a thumbs-up that seemed to say good luck.

Finally, someone acting normal. Thanks, Camille.

But then, as I approached the marked spot, she leaned closer and whispered, "If you do well, I might reward you with a kiss."

I froze, a chill running down my spine.

What?!

I turned to her in disbelief, but Camille merely giggled and winked before taking her seat.

Yep. That's it. I'm throwing my score away.

The original Sera had gone all out with her fire magic, trying to show off her might. I, however, would do the exact opposite. Instead of becoming the center of attention, I'd aim for mediocrity—just enough to blend in.

Taking a deep breath, I raised my hand and summoned a small, controlled flame. It flickered gently, harmlessly, as I guided it toward the target. I didn't try to incinerate the dummy or show off my potential. The flame simply grazed its shoulder before extinguishing.

There. Underwhelming. Forgettable. Perfect.

Evelyn raised an eyebrow, her gaze calculating. "A simple approach. While there's room for improvement, maintaining control is commendable. Well done."

I released the breath I hadn't realized I was holding and stepped back, relieved.

Camille pouted playfully as I returned to my spot. "Oh, you're no fun, Sera. I was rooting for you, you know."

"Sure you were," I muttered, slumping into my seat and ignoring the amused glances thrown my way.

Camille tilted her head, her lips curling into that same playful smile that always spelled trouble for me. "I was wondering… since you can use both fire and ice magic, which one do you prefer more?"

I raised an eyebrow at her, trying to gauge her intentions. "Why do you want to know?"

She shrugged, feigning innocence. "Just curious. You're an enigma, Sera."

An enigma? Yeah, right. More like a walking magnet for chaos.

I briefly considered her question. My honest answer was ice magic. It was elegant, precise, and versatile—everything fire magic wasn't. But admitting that in front of Camille, the literal ice magic prodigy? That felt like walking straight into her trap.

So, I did what any self-respecting person trying to avoid an obvious setup would do. I lied.

"Fire magic," I said flatly.

Camille's eyes lit up, but not in the way I expected. "Oh? We're complete opposites then." She leaned closer, her smile deepening into something mischievous. "You know what they say, right?"

I groaned inwardly. Here it comes.

"Opposites attrac—"

Before she could finish, I clamped my hand over her mouth, glaring at her with what little authority I could muster. "Just. Be. Quiet. For once."

Her muffled laugh vibrated against my hand, and I quickly pulled it back, realizing I might've been a little too hasty. She leaned back, still grinning like she'd won some sort of victory.

"You're no fun, Sera," she teased, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeve.

"And you're exhausting," I shot back, crossing my arms and looking away, trying to focus on literally anything else but the way her teasing tone lingered in the air.

"Now then, everyone," Evelyn Sinclair's authoritative voice cut through the hum of idle chatter, commanding the attention of the students. "It's time for the physical weapons segment. Swords and bows will be your options. Choose wisely. For swords, we have longswords, greatswords, and rapiers. Each offers a unique style of combat."

Weapons, huh? I frowned, glancing at the racks displaying an array of gleaming blades and intricately crafted bows. This wasn't exactly my area of expertise—or Sera's, for that matter.

If memory served me right, Sera in the original story was all about magic, showcasing her abilities with fiery confidence and zero restraint. Physical combat? That was for commoners and knights, not someone of her so-called "noble" stature.

Then again, there was a brief mention in the novel—almost a throwaway line—about her using a bow during a single, rare moment. If the author thought it was worth mentioning, perhaps there was untapped potential there.

I sighed, rolling my shoulders as I tried to muster some enthusiasm. Oh well, I'll do my best. At least I can lean on her natural talent a little.

"And you're exhausting," I shot back, crossing my arms and looking away, desperate to focus on literally anything else but the way her teasing tone clung to the air like an unwelcome melody.

"Now then," Evelyn Sinclair's authoritative voice sliced through the chatter, instantly commanding silence. "It's time for the physical weapons segment. Swords and bows will be your options. Choose carefully. We have longswords, greatswords, rapiers, and bows. Each offers a unique style of combat, so pick what aligns best with your potential."

Weapons. Right. I sighed, shifting my gaze to the array of polished steel and finely crafted bows on the nearby racks. This wasn't exactly in Sera's comfort zone—or mine, for that matter.

In the original story, Sera was all about her flashy magic, never giving physical combat a second thought. That said, there was one brief mention of her using a bow. A throwaway detail, but maybe there was something there to work with.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" Camille's voice broke through my thoughts, soft and laced with curiosity.

I turned to see her examining a sleek rapier. It seemed like the perfect fit for her—graceful, precise, and deadly. She tilted her head, her ice-blue eyes watching me with interest. "What are you going to choose?"

I hesitated, glancing between the weapons. "The bow," I finally said.

Camille raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a faint smile. "A bow, huh? Not a bad choice. Requires focus and patience. Think you can manage that?"

"I'll manage just fine," I replied, refusing to rise to the bait.

She shrugged lightly, but her smile didn't waver. "We'll see."

Ignoring her, I stepped forward and selected a bow from the rack. The wood was smooth and polished, with a reassuring weight that felt solid in my hands. Testing the string, I found it taut, humming faintly under my fingers.

"Well," Evelyn said, her sharp gaze flicking to me. "A bow requires precision and steady hands. Let's see how you handle it, Sera."

I nodded, trying to ignore the prickling nerves. Taking the bow, I found a quiet spot in the training area.

Camille, of course, decided to stay nearby, her rapier practice seemingly secondary to her interest in my attempts.

I nocked an arrow, pulling the string back slowly. The tension in the bowstring mirrored the growing anticipation in the air. "Steady hands," I muttered under my breath, narrowing my focus on the target ahead.

Releasing my breath in time with the release of the string, the arrow flew through the air with a sharp whistle, slicing through the training field's silence. To my absolute shock, it struck dead center—right in the bullseye.

The moment hung in stillness, broken only by Camille's soft, startled gasp.

"What the hell?" I muttered, staring at the target in disbelief. Even I hadn't expected that.

"Well, well," Camille drawled, stepping closer with an intrigued look on her face. "Looks like we've been underestimating you, Sera. That was impressive."

"I don't… I don't even know how I did that," I admitted, my voice low. My fingers still tingled from the release of the string, and my mind raced to process what had just happened.

"Don't sell yourself short," Camille said, a teasing grin curling her lips. "Maybe you're a natural archer. Or maybe," she added with a knowing glint in her eyes, "you've been secretly training for this moment."

"Secretly training? Yeah, right," I scoffed, but I couldn't hide the faint blush creeping into my cheeks. "Beginner's luck, more like."

Camille's smile widened. "Luck or not, that was a perfect shot. Care to try for two in a row?"

I hesitated, glancing at the bow in my hands. One bullseye could be attributed to luck, sure, but two? That would be pushing it. Still, her challenge stirred a competitive spark in me.

Nocking another arrow, I steadied my breath, the weight of Camille's gaze pressing down on me like a spotlight. It was impossible to ignore her; even out of the corner of my eye, I could see her watching me with that ever-present smirk.

I tightened my grip on the bow, forcing myself to focus on the target. Inhale. Exhale. With a sharp release, I let the arrow fly.

"Eh?"

The soft sound escaped my lips as the arrow struck dead center again, another perfect bullseye.

I blinked, lowering the bow slightly as I stared at the target. Was I… actually good at this?

Camille let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. "Blessed? No. Talented? Absolutely."

"I wouldn't go that far," I muttered, still trying to process the shot myself. Two bullseyes in a row? There had to be some sort of cosmic joke at play here.

Camille sauntered closer, her ice-blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "You sure you've never done this before? Because if this is beginner's luck, I think I might start getting jealous."

"It's just… luck," I said, though even I didn't sound convinced. My hands were steady, the bowstring felt natural, and each shot seemed almost instinctive. It was as if my body knew what to do without my brain catching up.

"Hmm," Camille said, tilting her head thoughtfully. "Or maybe," she added, leaning in with a mischievous grin, "you're secretly a prodigy, and you've been hiding it this whole time to avoid all the attention."

I gave her a flat look. "Yes, because nothing says avoiding attention like hitting back-to-back bullseyes in front of an audience."

She chuckled, a light, melodic sound that somehow made my pulse quicken. "Fair point. But still, this is impressive. Are you sure you don't want to consider taking up archery seriously? You could give the academy's top archers a run for their money."

"I think I'll pass," I said, quickly nocking another arrow. "I've got enough on my plate without adding 'archery prodigy' to the mix."

"Suit yourself," Camille replied, her tone teasing but her gaze lingering on me, as though trying to uncover the truth behind my sudden skill.

With a deep breath, I released the third arrow. It struck just outside the bullseye, a hair's breadth away from perfection.

"Ah, there it is," I said, relieved. "Looks like my luck's finally running out."

Camille's smile widened. "Or maybe you're just warming up. Either way, I can't wait to see what else you're hiding, Sera."

Her words sent a shiver down my spine, equal parts thrilling and unnerving. Why did everything she said sound like both a compliment and a challenge?