At an Inn in Oakshield.

Adrian sat on the creaky wooden chair, its worn edges digging slightly into his palms as he gripped the armrests. I've made it into the academy, but I can't help but feel that something is still off.

Seeing this, Selena tilted her head, her expression soft but firm, like a mother trying to soothe a troubled child. "You shouldn’t worry so much, the academy is a chance for you to grow and show everyone what you’re capable of."

Adrian’s lips pressed into a thin line. "It’s not just nerves, there’s something fishy about the whole thing."

Selena raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in her golden eyes. "What do you mean?"

Adrian exhaled, his fingers tightening on the chair. "You remember what I said about Alisha right?"

"Of course, she's that elf princess you really took a fancy to."

"A—anyway, that's not the point. We were assigned to the same group for the final test right?"

"Right, and then?"

"Alisha and I… we had to fight an armored troll in a trial dungeon. And when we defeated it, the damn thing got back up. Came to life again." The memory of the troll’s glowing eyes and its hulking, unrelenting frame sent a chill down his spine. What kind of academy sets up something like that for kids?

Selena’s face grew serious. "An armored troll? And it resurrected? That's certainly very odd for an academy to have."

Adrian blinked, caught off guard by her reaction. He had expected her to downplay it, maybe even laugh it off. Instead, her certainty mirrored the weight of his own fears. She believes me… just like that? It was reassuring, making the knot in his chest loosen, if only a little.

"I don’t know what kind of place they’re running, but it doesn’t feel right."

"Then you’ll just have to stay sharp, Adrian. If they’re hiding something, you’ll figure it out. You always do."

Her confidence in him lit a small ember of determination within. Adrian glanced at her, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks… Selena."

Selena leaned back slightly, resting her hands on the edge of the bed. "You need to relax. Go out for a walk around town. Get some fresh air, or maybe buy yourself something nice if you want."

Adrian tilted his head, his brows furrowing. "A walk? Now?" He shifted uneasily in the chair, the thought of wandering around Oakshield doing little to calm the tight coil of anxiety in his chest. "I don’t think that’s going to help much."

"You’re not going to be in Oakshield for much longer, you know. Once you start at the academy, there’s no telling when you’ll have a chance to see this place again."

"I just don’t know if I’m in the mood for... sightseeing."

Selena let out a soft laugh and stood. She crossed the room to the small wooden table near the window, teaching into the satchel she had left there, she pulled out a small leather pouch and tossed it to him. Adrian caught it clumsily, the weight of the coins inside surprising him.

"Take this," Selena said, her tone as firm as a parent telling their child to behave. "Go. Get something to eat, buy a trinket, maybe even find a book to read. Just do something that doesn’t involve you sitting here overthinking."

Adrian stared at the pouch in his hand. "You’re serious?" he asked, glancing up at her.

"Very," she replied with a smile. "And don’t come back too late, alright? You’ll have plenty of time to stress about the academy once you’re actually there."

A reluctant smile tugged at Adrian’s lips. "Fine, but if I don’t find anything interesting, I’m blaming you."

Selena chuckled, returning to her seat on the bed. "Blame me all you want, as long as you try."

***

The streets of Oakshield.

The golden glow of lanterns spilled across the narrow alleys, as Adrian walked under the night sky. He passed shuttered shops and quiet homes, the town’s bustle reduced to murmurs and the occasional bark of a stray dog.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

His eyes scanned the surroundings, looking for anything that might catch his interest. A vendor closing up his stall. A street musician plucking the last melancholic notes on a lute. Doesn't seem like there's anything too interesting.

Yet, when he turned down another quiet street, a faint prickling sensation crept up his neck. He slowed his steps, glancing casually over his shoulder. The street was empty behind him, save for the faint outlines of buildings and the distant flicker of another lantern. Maybe I’m imagining things…

He picked up his pace, his boots striking the stones a little harder, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet night. But the feeling didn’t leave him. That subtle, nagging awareness lingered at the edge of his senses, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach.

When he glanced back again, his heart thudded faster. The street was still empty. No figures lurking in the shadows, no footsteps behind him. Yet the unease burrowed deeper into his chest. What if I’m not imagining it?

To shake the feeling, Adrian veered toward the busier part of town, where the streets still buzzed with life. Here, people bustled about, their laughter and chatter filling the air. He wove through the crowd, keeping his head low. His steps became hurried, as if the crowd itself could shield him from whoever might be following.

He wasn’t paying attention when he collided with someone. Damn it!

The impact sent him stumbling back, and he barely caught himself from falling. The other man, less fortunate, hit the cobblestones with a dull thud, his fine boots scuffing against the stone.

“I’m so sorry,” Adrian blurted, stepping forward to help. But the man waved him off, brushing dirt from his tailored coat with a dramatic huff.

"Watch where you’re going, boy," the man snapped. "Typical. Just another commoner with no manners."

Adrian froze, his hand still outstretched as he looked up at the man. What is this guy's deal?

The stranger had short brown hair, neatly combed, and sharp green eyes that gleamed in the lantern light. His outfit was refined, a deep burgundy coat with gold trim and polished boots, giving him an air of wealth and authority.

"I didn’t do it on purpose, it was an honest mistake." Adrian said.

The man scoffed, lip curling as if Adrian’s words offended him further. "Honest mistake? If you paid attention to where you were going, we wouldn’t be having this conversation."

Adrian’s jaw clenched. He was about to retort when the man’s expression shifted. His green eyes widened slightly, recognition flickering across his face.

"Wait," the man said, straightening his coat. "You’re Adrian, aren’t you?"

Adrian blinked, the anger in his chest faltering for a moment. "Yes… but how do you know that?"

The man’s lips twisted into a smirk. "I’m Professor Damien. I teach at Mistral Royal Academy and I’ve been reviewing the profiles of the incoming students, including yours."

For a brief moment, Adrian’s irritation gave way to excitement. He relaxed slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Oh, that’s great! I’m looking forward to meeting you again at the academy."

Damien’s smirk deepened, but there was no warmth in it. "Looking forward to it, are you? I have no idea how you managed to get accepted. If it were up to me, I’d have rejected your application outright."

"What’s that supposed to mean? Are you just going to stand here insulting me all day, or do you actually have a point?"

"Listen, I have better things to do than argue with a child," Damien said. Turning on his heel, he walked away, his boots clicking sharply against the cobblestones.

Adrian watched him go, his chest tight with anger. And here I thought the faculty might have been less snobbish than the students, seems I was wrong. He wanted to shout something after Damien, to demand an apology or at least an explanation, but the words stuck in his throat.

As the crowd swirled around him again, Adrian forced himself to take a deep breath. It doesn’t matter. Let him think whatever he wants.

But then, suddenly, the prickling sensation from earlier returned, sharper this time, crawling along his spine like icy fingers. Adrian slowed his pace, his heart thudding harder with each step. I’m not imagining it. Someone is following me.

He glanced over his shoulder to take a look. The crowd behind him appeared ordinary—merchants packing up their stalls, townsfolk walking arm in arm, children chasing each other in laughter. Yet, the unease refused to fade.

Adrian’s eyes darted to the darker alleys branching off the main street, their shadows deep and uninviting. No. Not there. He stayed among the people, quickening his steps as he threaded through the crowd. The sensation pressed down harder, like a weight on his chest.

Turning sharply, Adrian moved without thinking, colliding into a solid figure. "Watch it!" he barked reflexively, startled by the sudden impact.

But when he looked up, there was no harsh scolding this time. No professor. Only a wide-eyed woman clutching a basket of bread. Adrian muttered an apology and pushed past her, ignoring her confused glare. I can’t keep running. If someone’s following me, I need to face them.

The decision settled uneasily in his stomach, but Adrian forced himself to act. He turned down a quieter street, leading toward the park he had passed earlier. It wasn’t far, and he remembered its winding paths and open spaces well enough to pick the right spot.

The park was quiet at this time, with only a few lanterns darting the landscape. The rustling of leaves overhead filled the air, a soft, constant whisper that made his skin prickle. Adrian moved deeper into the park, drawing whoever was following him away from the crowded streets.

He stopped at a small clearing where the trees thickened, their branches arching overhead like skeletal fingers. Turning sharply, he planted his feet and called out, "I know you’re following me, best to show yourself now."