Night fell over the Arcanum Royal Institute, its towering spires cloaked in an eerie stillness. The moonlight spilled through the windows, casting pale beams across the deserted hallways. Suddenly, a deafening crash shattered the quiet.
A shadowy figure burst through the heavy double doors, the force splintering the wood and echoing down the corridor. Their face was hidden beneath the veil of darkness, their movements sharp and deliberate. The air seemed to shift around them, an oppressive aura spreading like a storm cloud.
With a feral growl, the figure stormed toward the row of lockers, their boots pounding the marble floors. Without hesitation, they swung their arm, crumpling a locker door inward with an echoing clang. Sparks flew as metal warped under their force. Locker after locker fell victim, their contents spilling out like entrails onto the floor.
The figure’s hand slammed into the glass window at the end of the hallway. Shards rained down like jagged stars, glittering in the dim light as a chilling wind swept into the corridor. The figure stepped forward, boots crunching over the broken glass.
They turned their focus to the walls, striking with brute force. The pristine corridor began to crumble, chunks of stone and plaster littering the ground. The ornate carvings that lined the walls were obliterated, their elegance reduced to dust.
With every strike, the destruction became more violent, the sound reverberating throughout the empty school. Half the corridor lay in ruin—lockers torn apart, windows shattered, and walls defaced. The once-grand hallway now bore the scars of chaos, a testament to the mysterious invader's wrath.
Before vanishing into the night, the shadowy figure paused, glancing back at the destruction as if admiring their handiwork. Then, with a final, deliberate movement, they etched a single ominous symbol onto the floor, glowing faintly in the moonlight. The figure melted into the darkness, leaving behind only questions and chaos.
When the morning came, the students and staff of Arcanum Royal Institute would awaken to find their sanctuary violated, the damage both physical and symbolic—a threat that hung heavily over their heads.
In the gym, Mel, Elowen, Caius, Lumi, Sera, Renita, Lincoln, and Arid, along with the senior, junior, and freshman black cards, pushed themselves to their limits as they darted back and forth across the training grounds. Their synchronized footsteps echoed like a war drum, each sprint more grueling than the last under the sharp commands of their instructor. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and the weight of determination. No one dared to falter, despite the burn in their legs and the strain carved into their faces.
“Are we going to tell Yaga about the wizard?” Sera gasped, her words staccato between labored breaths. “Being a wizard isn’t exactly… popular, thanks to those stories. The only reason you get a free pass is because, well, you’re Melanthius Shadowbane.” Her tone wavered with effort, though her curiosity remained sharp.
Mel glanced at her, his expression pensive even as he kept pace. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, his voice steady despite the strain. “If he recognizes Baba Yaga, it could complicate things. More things might happen.”
Before anyone could respond, a piercing whistle cut through the air. The students collapsed onto the ground, panting and exhausted, muscles quivering from exertion.
Caius, ever the silent observer, cast a sharp look at Mel. It was a wordless conversation, as if his thoughts passed between them without a single sound.
“Maybe he doesn’t know Yaga,” Mel murmured to himself, his voice barely audible as he chewed on his nails. His posture straightened as an unspoken tension settled over the room.
Then, with a growl that seemed to shake the walls, Headmaster Draven’s voice erupted. “There are seventy-two of you here. Which one of you snuck into the school last night?!” His tone was thunderous, his piercing gaze sweeping across the students like a predator stalking prey.
Confused murmurs rippled through the group. Before anyone could answer, Emrys’ voice rang out from the far side of the room. “Nobody snuck into this school, Draven.”
Draven’s glare sharpened, his fury palpable. “This is not the time for your wit, Emrys. I’ve already questioned the staff and the non-black cards. One of you did it,” he barked, his voice ricocheting off the gym walls. Several students flinched under the weight of his accusation.
Mel’s instincts flared. Rising to his feet, he addressed the headmaster. “Headmaster Draven, with all due respect, this feels awfully familiar. Last time, I was accused of stealing Excalibur and Dorian’s dagger. Let me remind you, I always have an alibi—I’m with one of my friends every day!”
Draven’s cold gaze snapped to Mel, his voice sharp but measured. “Sit down, Melanthius. I know you didn’t do it.”
Reluctantly, Mel bowed slightly and returned to his seat, though his shoulders remained taut. The tension in the room hung heavy, an unsolved mystery casting a long shadow over them all.
“Since nobody wants to fess up, maybe I’ll make you all run 200 laps, do 10 sets of 200 push-ups, and throw in 400 burpees for good measure!” Jasper’s voice boomed over the microphone, his tone sharp and uncompromising. A collective groan rippled through the students.
“Oh, that’s not so hard,” Mel muttered absentmindedly, his words slipping out louder than intended.
Jasper froze mid-sentence, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Oh really, Shadowbane? Is that so?” he barked. “Alright, then. Let’s double it! And you, in particular, will wear a ten-ton vest!”
Before Mel could protest, Kai grabbed the mic, amplifying the chaos. “Way to go, Shadowbane! You’ve earned everyone’s wrath!” The students turned on Mel, muttering curses under their breath, their exhausted faces glaring daggers at him. Mel sighed, resigning himself to the punishment.
An hour into the grueling workout, the field was littered with students dropping to the ground, utterly drained. Mel, however, kept his pace steady, powering through his burpees with the ten-ton vest strapped securely to his torso. Despite his calm demeanor, the strain was evident, his breaths measured and deliberate. The only thing keeping him grounded was the tiny, impossibly dense trillion-ton book Merlin had left him—its presence familiar but demanding.
Nearby, Cassius Taurus was sweating through his own set of burpees, keeping a steady rhythm beside Mel. “Melanthius,” he called out between breaths, his tone tinged with concern.
Mel adjusted the vest and turned to him. “Yeah?”
“Have you heard from Akoni—Astroman?” Cassius asked, his brow furrowed with worry.
Mel paused briefly, mid-push-up, before launching himself into the next jump. “I thought he was here,” he muttered, glancing around.
Cassius shook his head. “He was here the first day, but after that—nothing. He hasn’t shown up. I’m worried.”
Amara, panting heavily, staggered over to them after finishing her last set. She flopped onto the ground beside Mel, catching her breath. “Something was definitely wrong with him,” she added, her voice faint. “He was... quieter than usual. More withdrawn.”
Mel frowned, his thoughts clouded. “That’s weird,” he said, dropping flat onto his back to recover.
Amara shifted the topic, her lips curling into a small smile. “By the way, I didn’t thank you for saving me from Dorian, did I?” she asked, her voice soft and grateful.
Mel waved her off, still lying on the ground. “You don’t need to. You’re a friend. That’s what friends do.”
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Amara’s smile widened. She crawled closer, summoning a faint swirl of frost from her breath. With a practiced motion, she shaped the icy mist into a delicate necklace, its surface glinting in the dim light. Carefully, she placed it in Mel’s hand.
“For you,” she whispered.
Mel sat up, studying the icy necklace with fascination as Amara leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. His hand instinctively rubbed the spot as warmth crept into his expression.
“Thanks,” he said with a small smile, slipping the necklace over his head. The cool touch of the ice against his skin reminded him of her magic—and her kindness.
After what felt like an eternity, the students finally completed their grueling workout and trudged into the locker rooms. Thirty-six filed into the boys’ side and thirty-six into the girls’, their exhaustion evident in their sluggish movements. The locker rooms were massive, built to accommodate the elite ranks of Arcanum’s students, with gleaming tiles and rows of polished steel lockers.
Mel made his way to his locker, the metallic clink of its door echoing as he opened it. From within, he carefully retrieved his Atlantean jewelry—a bracelet of intricately woven silver, a gleaming chain that attached to his pants, and a small yet striking earring. Each piece seemed to shimmer faintly, as if alive with some ancient magic. He slipped them on with practiced ease before pulling his school uniform over his gym clothes, his fingers quick but deliberate.
The hum of conversation filled the locker room as the boys cleaned up and changed. One of the black cards leaned casually against a row of lockers, his voice cutting through the chatter with a sly chuckle. “So, which one of you geniuses decided to sneak into the school and trash the place last night?” he asked, his tone both mocking and accusatory.
His gaze landed on Mel, who was adjusting his hair in the mirror mounted inside his locker. “Where were you last night, Melanthius?” the black card pressed, his smirk suggesting he didn’t expect a straight answer.
Mel didn’t flinch, his reflection staring back at him as he smoothed a stray strand into place. “Last night?” he began, his voice calm and measured. “I was with Elowen. We were training together—I was teaching her how to hoverboard.”
The black card studied him for a moment, as if weighing the truth in his words, then shrugged. “Guess that’s an alibi,” he said with mild indifference before turning to another student.
“What about you, Dontai?” the black card asked, his smirk returning. “You’re a foreigner here, new to the continent. Where were you last night?”
Dontai, seated on a bench and lacing up his boots, paused. His sharp eyes flicked toward the black card, his expression unreadable. “What are you trying to say?” he asked coolly, his voice laced with a hint of irritation.
The tension in the locker room thickened as everyone turned to look, waiting to see how the exchange would play out.
“Relax, no need to get worked up,” the black card said with a chuckle, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Just a curious freshman trying to figure out what’s so interesting about this place that someone would go out of their way to wreck it.”
“They’re not going to let up on these workouts unless someone confesses,” Arid said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion in his tone. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he surveyed the group. “The truth is, this school has an advanced security system. It can distinguish between who belongs here and who doesn’t. So whoever did this… they’re already one of us.”
The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of his words sinking in.
Terence, unable to contain his frustration, slammed his fist into his locker, the metal denting under the force. “Breaking and entering?” he growled, his voice sharp with anger. “I can’t stand it when people cross that line!” His fists clenched, the rage practically radiating off him.
Arid glanced at Terence, his expression calm but thoughtful. “It’s not just about crossing lines. It’s about betrayal,” he added quietly. “Someone here isn’t who they seem.”
“And I think it’s the foreigner,” the black card from earlier taunted, his tone dripping with mockery.
Dontai’s eyes narrowed as he rose to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate. He said something sharp and biting in a foreign language—words that no one except Mel and Caius seemed to understand.
Mel’s eyes widened slightly, recognizing the wizard tongue. “Did he just—”
“Get up then, bitch!” Dontai barked, his voice laced with raw fury as he stalked toward the black card, the air around him brimming with tension.
Before things could escalate further, Cassius stepped firmly between them, his broad shoulders acting as a barrier. His voice was calm but commanding, carrying an undeniable weight. “Chill out,” he ordered, locking eyes with both boys.
Dontai hesitated, his fists clenched and jaw tight, but he eventually stepped back, his glare still burning. The black card looked away, muttering under his breath as he, too, retreated.
Cassius didn’t move until the hostility had fully dissipated. “Save it for the training grounds,” he added firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
Mel reached into his pocket and pulled out his tiny, impossibly heavy book. As he opened it, his eyes turned an ethereal white, glowing softly as the blank pages came alive with intricate script visible only to him.
He flipped through the sections with a thought, navigating effortlessly until he reached the entry on languages. His gaze locked onto the familiar runes. Wizard tongue.
“I knew it,” Mel murmured to himself, his brow furrowing in thought. “He spoke in a wizard tongue… Does that mean Dontai’s a wizard? Should I ask him?”
His eyes lifted from the book, now fixed intently on Dontai, who stood a few feet away. Suspicion mingled with curiosity as Mel studied him, wondering what secrets might be hidden behind his fiery temper.
Moments later, the seventy-two black cards sat in the bleachers, their chatter fading to silence as King Aldara stepped forward alongside Kai, Jasper, and Headmaster Draven. The atmosphere was tense, charged with the weight of recent events. King Aldara tapped the microphone, the sharp sound drawing everyone’s attention.
“Due to the recent break-in and vandalism, a curfew will now be in place,” Aldara announced, his voice steady but firm. “Students are required to report to their dorms or homes by 8 PM. To ensure the school’s safety, the headmasters will remain on campus at all times, joined by five new wardens: Benjamin Lovett, Chandler Addison, Allynna Thelee, Victoria Bexley, and, for the first time in this school’s history, our first wizard teacher—Aegis Salman.”
Murmurs rippled through the students as Aldara stepped back, and Headmaster Draven took the mic. His piercing gaze swept over the crowd. “Don’t be alarmed. These wardens aren’t like the ones you may have heard of before,” Draven said, his deep voice resonating with authority. “They’re my old… associates, individuals I trust completely. They’ve pledged their lives to the protection of this school in my honor.”
Mel, Caius, Lumi, and Sera exchanged uneasy glances, a silent conversation playing out between them.
“He’s a wizard, like us,” Mel thought, his mind racing as he stared at Aegis. “What does that mean for me? For all of us?”
Before the students could dwell on their thoughts, Aegis stepped forward. His stern demeanor seemed to cast a shadow over the room, his presence commanding. But just as everyone braced themselves for some grand, ominous proclamation, he surprised them all.
With an exaggerated grin, Aegis stuck his tongue out and raised both hands in a rockstar pose. “Wazzup, students and studettes!” he said, his voice full of playful energy. “We’re all so excited to meet you!”
The tension in the room shattered like glass, replaced by stunned silence and a few scattered chuckles. Aegis winked at the crowd, the contrast between his appearance and behavior leaving everyone—including Mel—wondering just what kind of wizard teacher they were dealing with.
Aegis pulled out a sleek, silver wand, twirling it theatrically before pointing it toward the ceiling. With a sharp crack, a shimmering metal broomstick burst through the nearest window, gliding gracefully through the air before stopping right beside him.
With a dramatic leap, Aegis mounted the broomstick, balancing effortlessly as it hovered above the ground. “Dontai!” he called out with a mischievous grin, his voice carrying across the room. “You forgot your teddy bear, son!”
The room erupted into muffled snickers as Aegis pulled a worn, slightly lopsided teddy bear from his satchel, holding it high for everyone to see. Dontai groaned audibly, burying his flushed face in his hands as laughter broke out around him.
“Come on, now,” Aegis teased, tossing the bear playfully into the air with an easy grin. “It’s a school of technology, not shame. Own it!”
Benjamin, unfazed by Aegis’ antics, ran a hand through his short pink hair, his calm voice commanding attention. “We’ve been thinking. With 72 magical students, at least five from each grade, you could help us track down the culprit.” His words carried weight, and a murmur rippled through the crowd as students began to consider the task.
As the bell rang, the students stood, gathering their things and filing out of the room. The once-lively space quickly quieted, leaving behind only lingering tension.
Mel walked at a steady pace, his gaze distant. Beside him, Elowen turned with curiosity etched on her face. “You’re not helping figure it out? That’s… odd,” she said, her voice laced with suspicion.
Mel hesitated before answering, his voice unusually soft. “I’m kinda… scared of the dark,” he admitted, his tone trembling with vulnerability.
Elowen froze, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. “You’ve killed a 40-foot spider, fought the former king of Atlantis, taken on three knights, twelve black cards, four wardens, and probably the strongest king in Auroria—Bimoth, I mean. And you’re scared of the dark?!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in astonishment.
Mel winced at her reaction, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Y-yeah… also, being chained up,” he added quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
The mention of chains made Elowen’s expression soften as memories surfaced. She recalled the time Headmaster Thaddeus had chained Mel, locking him in the dungeon like an animal. The haunting image lingered in her mind, and she sighed deeply.
“Thaddeus…” she muttered, her voice heavy. “He’s dead, but I still can’t forget when he made us capture you. That wasn’t right.”
Mel didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the floor. “It’s not something you forget,” he murmured, his tone carrying the weight of past traumas. “No matter how strong you get.”
Elowen looked at him, a flicker of guilt and understanding in her eyes. For all his strength, Mel was still human—one who carried scars that no victory could erase.