First Steps Taken

A vacillating, booted gait echoed softly against the polished wooden floor, each uneven step commensurate with the mellow glow of the enchanted lanterns.

This glimmer painted the frigid stone corridors of the Academy dormitory in auroral amber.

Through Austin's eyes, I observed everything—the way his breathing subtly wavered, the slight tension in his grip as he adjusted the strap of his travel bag. A quiet, almost imperceptible hesitation resided within him, like a ripple in still water.

At this moment, he was certain that he has crossed the fine line of excitement and anxiety.

"Hhhhrrrhhh... ffffffhhhhhhh..."

When he finally reached the door of his assigned room, he took a deep breath and paused for a moment.

His sweaty hand rested on the polished brass handle as he stared at the number on the door.

Nine. His thought rang inside my system.

The dormitories for freshmen were an odd mix of camaraderie and controlled chaos.

Unlike the upper years, who earned private or semi-private rooms based on their merits from the previous year, first-years were grouped together in rooms of ten.

This was a deliberate design by the Academy, intended to foster teamwork and test how students adapted to living closely despite their unknown differences.

This is it. He thought.

This is his first step into a new life.

I watched.

I felt.

I understood.

He missed the peaceful lifestyle of the forest, but he knew he had no other choice but to find the courage to face this contrasting environment.

[You hesitate.]

I spoke to him without words, my voice weaving through the fabric of his thoughts, an extension of his own mind.

[You are—]

—Stop.

The command came not in defiance but in resolution. He did not want to dwell on it. He did not want to acknowledge that his hands trembled, however slightly. So, he pushed the door open.

Smack!

"Ghhk-gghhkk."

The first thing he heard was a sharp crack, followed by a choked gasp.

I felt his pulse quicken, the momentary spike of alertness as his eyes swept the room. A boy stood, his arm still raised, while another cradled his cheek, fresh bruises blooming on his pale skin.

"Ah, a new face!" The aggressor turned, lowering his hand.

I registered his posture, his expression, the way his smirk curled. Aidan von Brandt. A boy who wielded power through an orchestration of dominance.

He is protecting something, I noted, analyzing the minute shifts in his demeanor.

"Welcome to the party. I'm Aidan von Brandt. Future Mage Extraordinaire." He gestured grandly, as though expecting applause. "And you must be?"

"Austin," he introduced nonchalantly. His eyes flicked to the other boy who seemed hurt.

"Hello–I-I'm Lucian," the pale-haired boy introduced timidly.

"Tch!" Aidan clicked his tongue as he glared at Lucian who then flinched and looked down.

Despite his trembling frame, there was a glint of determination in his eyes. Even as his cheek reddened from the slap, the defiance, though faint, was present.

"Austin—ah! You were the top scorer in the entrance exams last month! Come on, tell me—what's your secret?"

Austin blinked casually as he swept his gaze over the room, taking in the arrangement.

The room was divided into six sections. One was a common area with a table and a few couches dominating the center.

The other five alcoves branched off, each holding two beds with accompanying pair of desks and chests.

Despite the stone walls, the space felt oddly inviting, warmed by soft lighting and decorative touches.

Austin turned away from Aidan without a word and walked toward an unoccupied bed, planning to set his bag down.

"Hey!" Aidan's annoyed voice followed him. "I'm talking to you. What, too good to answer?"

Austin didn't even look back as he put down his bag before responding. "I'm tired. Go bother someone else."

Aidan clicked his tongue, but his irritation quickly turned toward Lucian who is still standing frozen behind him, near the door.

"Lucian," he spat, stalking toward him. "You just had to embarrass me, didn't you? Can't even get through one day without making a fool of yourself."

Lucian's trembling body flinched as Aidan shoved him against the wall.

"I—I didn't mean to…" he stammered with a cracking voice.

Austin turned his head a little to his rear, just enough to glance at them in his peripheral.

Aidan's hand shot out, gripping Lucian's chin and forcing him to look up. "Don't mean to? You think I didn't see the way he looked at you?"

"..."

"It's your fault, with that stupid 'White Curse' of yours!" He shoved Lucian again, hard enough to make him stumble.

Austin gritted his teeth, his back still turned as he slowly opened his bag.

I didn't know these people and didn't know their story.

But the sound of Lucian's muffled sobs grated against his conscience.

I should stay out of this.

[Yet you listen. Yet you watch—]

"Stop," Austin said with a low but firm voice.

[Yet you move.]

The room fell silent.

Aidan turned to him, his smirk returning as he crossed his arms. "What did you say?"

"I said stop," Austin's tone is calm, turning to face Aidan. "You're making too much noise." His almond eyes were steady.

Aidan stepped closer while barking a laugh, "You think you can stop me?"

Austin didn't flinch. "If you're done playing tough, maybe you could leave me in peace."

Aidan's grin faltered for a moment, his hand twitching at his side. But then he scoffed, waving a hand dismissively.

"Whatever. Stay out of my business, Austin." He turned on his heel, walking to his bed.

Lucian remained where he was, slumped against the wall, his aqua-blue eyes glistening.

Austin glanced past him without a word as he started unpacking.

Lucian walked closer. "Th-thank you," Lucian whispered with a trembling voice.

Austin glanced at him. "I didn't do it for you. I just need a bit of silence."

Lucian nodded, wiping his face as he slowly made his way to his own corner of the room.

Alright, let's start with organizing our things because a clear space is a clear mind.

While Austin began to quietly organize his belongings in the chest near his bed, the once-quiet dormitory began to fill with voices as more students arrived.

Each creak of the door announced another newcomer, and with every entrance, Aidan's charisma flared to life.

"Welcome, fellow Mystians, to the illustrious dorm of Aidan von Brandt!" he exclaimed, flicking his blonde hair theatrically. He radiated overconfidence, punctuating his greetings with dramatic flourishes.

Reactions varied—some nodded politely, others forced smiles, and a few nobles even mirrored his enthusiasm, eager to align with his apparent authority.

Austin sat on his bed after tidying his space up while scanning the growing group.

The room's dynamics were already taking shape.

He leaned back against the cool stone wall, stared at the ceiling, and sighed inwardly.

The Academy had segregated dormitories by gender, so he expected the shared space to be bustling, but the energy already rasped on him.

Austin misses the forest.

Nearby, Lucian, hovered awkwardly in one corner. Inch by inch, he edged near Austin, moving with a hesitancy that made his intentions obvious.

When he finally settled in the other bed in the back right corner's alcove, hunching into himself as if trying to disappear, Austin's eyes snapped toward him briefly.

The sight of Lucian's nervous frame stirred a faint irritation—not out of malice but because the boy's anxious presence felt intrusive.

Yet, Austin said nothing. He wasn't here to comfort anyone, and if his corner provided Lucian with solace, so be it.

He lay on his bed.

Just get through the year quietly. Avoid unnecessary attention, he thought, sighing as his mind drifted to his goal.

[Silence is not survival. Watch. Learn. Adapt—]

Mind your own business.

He turned toward the wall, hoping to drown out the noise, but it was futile.

Sharing a space is exhausting.

Solitude meant focus, freedom, and the absence of distractions—a crowded room was not.

Before entering the room, his sole goal had been to become a Sage—one of the two tracks offered by the Academy.

The Sage track focused on the theoretical aspects of the Mystical Arts, in contrast to the Mage track, which emphasized practical application and combat.

Just like martial arts, the Mystical Arts in this world have been systemized by Mystians, encompassing martial arts itself.

Calling the mystical art mere magic is an insult to Mystians who have dedicated their lives to studying it.

To them, magic is merely a fantasy, whereas the Mystical Art is undoubtedly real—rooted in skill, discipline, and mastery.

Originally, Austin wanted to become a Sage to establish the credibility needed to introduce the knowledge he retained.

Yes, that was his plan at first, but after witnessing the violence, he became determined to secure the top merit this school year, earn a private room for the next year, and graduate peacefully.

I must get the top merit.

[ I am now constructing the most efficient action plan to secure the top—]

"—So that's your plan now, huh?"

The relative calm broke when Aidan's sharp voice cut through Austin's thoughts.

Everyone turned to Aidan, trying to make sense of what was happening.

His eyes locked onto Lucian like a predator. With heavy steps, he closed the distance. "Hiding behind him?"

Lucian stiffened, curling in on himself. "I—I wasn't…"