I've been having this strange nightmare for a few weeks that no longer lets me sleep peacefully. This hooded figure wandering alone through an endless sea of snow.

Do I sound crazy when I say that sometimes it seems way too real. As if it wasn't a nightmare but a locked memory.

I... I don't really know myself. Maybe someone cursed me. It could be possible, especially since I've already made enough enemies who would be capable of something like that.

"Dean."

Since then, every night has been like hell for me and during the day I feel so incredibly empty. What's wrong with me? What is that supposed to tell me?!

Am I slowly losing my mind? I have no idea... and the more I think about it, the more my head is hurting. Maybe I should just see a doctor, or a goddamn wizard.

"Dean van Dehlen!"

"Um, yeah?"

"This may be the last lesson of this school year, but I ask you to give it your fullest attention."

"Of course," I say as my face turns red.

"Then we can continue now."

Professor Lucas Gregory, an elitist fatso with receding black hair, a well-groomed mustache and a monocle, which he treats like the holy grail. If you were to look for the definition of a cocky prick, Professor Gregory would be the answer.

In the academy he has gained a reputation of an educated and highly respected professor of literature, but anyone who has to spend any time with him will quickly realize that he is just a leech that tries to stick it's slimy body to the nobility.

As a commoner you have poor chances with him, but as a noble he will kiss your hand. Anyone who studies at the Laventa Academy as a commoner has a tough time ahead of them anyway.

Not only because the academy is the best and most professional in the empire, but also because the student body and teaching corps consists mainly of nobles who place far too much importance on the bloodline.

And there stands one of them. Instead of a scholar, he looks more like a fat rat standing on two legs. As my head wanders to the clock in thought, I realize that class is almost over.

Only ten more minutes, to be exact. Professor Gregory still seems engrossed in his lesson, his rambling interrupted only now and then by the squeaking of the chalk on the blackboard, where he scribbles word after word like a possessed man.

Sometimes I wonder how one can even keep up with it.

I stare longingly at the clock. There are moments when time sprints ahead and then there are moments when time doesn't dare to budge. It's probably the latter right now, or I was cast with a time delay spell. If such a thing even exists.

My gaze continues to wander around the classroom. All around me are my classmates who are obsessively trying to put Professor Gregory's monologue down on paper.

In the front row, however, sits a skinny boy whose narrow frame reminds me more of a tree branch than a seventeen-year-old boy. He wears glasses with round lenses and his brown, curly hair resembles a little puppy that you would just love to pet.

In contrast to the other students, he almost seems panicked. His gaze changes every second from the board to his notes, as if they were competing for his attention.

It's almost as if he needs to make sure the professor's scribbles haven't magically changed before he puts them to paper. His name is Moris, a commoner and possibly my only friend in the entire academy, although I'm probably the only one who thinks so.

Not that I approached him in any harming way, at least I think so, but because of my reputation.

Dean van Dehlen, the tyrant, the monster and the womanizer. A few years ago rumors spread about me and since then things have only gone downhill for me, although I have probably already reached my absolute lowest point.

Since then, every attempt to explain myself and free myself from these accusations has fallen on deaf ears. It's like a cruel conspiracy, but I've long since come to terms with it.

Instead of fighting a losing battle, I devote my time to other things. I'm disinherited, hated and women think I'm a wild, disgusting good-for-nothing who jumps into the box with any girl, but at least I'm still myself...right?

While I'm still wallowing in my self-pity, Professor Gregory seems to have ended the lesson, as some of my classmates have already put away their utensils, exhausted, and others are talking to each other.

Judging by the grins on their faces, they're talking about the upcoming vacation, but I'm not sure.

ˋI wish I had friends too...'

Somehow I'm a little ashamed of it, even though I can't help it.

Sometimes I sound as if I should be pushed into the next best therapy group as quickly as possible.

Well, I'm only human, at least that's how I see it. As I get up, I hope to exchange at least a few words with Moris, so that I can at least briefly feel like I have friends before I hide behind some door for the next three months or even get swallowed whole by the earth.

Not that anyone would notice. But as I walk towards his place, hope fades away with every step. The cold looks from my classmates suggest that they would tear me apart at the first opportunity.

Like I was trash...or worse, a sopping pile of mushy shit! My fist starts to itch excessively, but I have to pull myself together. I'm used to it and my list of "misdeeds that Dean regrets a little bit" didn't need to get any longer.

When I finally get to Moris's place, he doesn't seem to have noticed me yet. The urge to ruffle his curls is really hard to suppress. He reminds me of the little wolf beast child that I took care of for a short period of time in my childhood.

If you didn't know that Moris was seventeen years old, you would have mistaken him for a boy who got lost in the academy.

Now I only have one challenge ahead. How do I overcome my awkwardness and talk to him in the best way without making it uncomfortable for both of us?

ˋHey, Moris, my one and only best friend!'

I would like to punch myself in the face right now. Who would think of addressing a friend like that? Ah, that's right... me. What am I even thinking about, I just have to sound nice and friendly.

"Hey, Moris, my a-" but before I could finish speaking, my mouth closes.

Ah, fuck.

*************************

The Laventa Academy was a painting spanned through approximately one hundred years of history and was also the crown jewel of the Agnus Empire. Graduates of the academy not only enjoyed a special reputation within the empire, but also gained the attention of other nations.

For many of them, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make a name for themselves. It wasn't empty talk, that the Laventa Academy boasted of having produced dozens of talents over the decades.

It therefore served as a springboard, an opportunity to rise through the ranks of society. To become a true "hero". But not everyone knew how take advantage of it. Many people despaired, didn't know how to use their opportunity and gave up.

When the academy was built, it was intended to serve as an educational institute for future generations of the nobility, a place to learn and the making of beneficial contacts.

But over the years it continued to grow into something bigger, attracted talented people who took care of it and became what it was today. The maturation institute for all talents on the continent who dared to face this challenge.

It was no longer only open to the nobility, but also welcomed those who were not blessed with the best background, but with outstanding skills. And today a new year began in the academy. That meant new students and therefore new potential talents.

The boy still couldn't believe it. Yesterday he was sitting on his wooden chair in the middle of his room and looking dreamily out of the small window. It was already midday and people were bustling about on the streets in front of his small home.

It was a vibrant and idyllic sight. The loud laughter of the children, the traders screaming to sell their wares and the carriages carefully squeezing through the streets.

The boy wished it would stay like this forever, but the near future foreshadowed evil. For several years now, concern has been spreading throughout the nations due to increasing disasters and mysterious occurrences.

Additionally, demonic activity had increased dramatically on the northern borders of the Agnus Empire and the Carnifex Alliance. There was a part of the continent called the Empty Valley.

Not because it was particularly bare and inconspicuous, but because no human being has ever managed to survive in this land for more than a few days before succumbing to an unknown illness.

Only the demons seemed to be able to live there without a care in the world, but as long as they didn't go near the borders, they posed no danger. But something seemed to be slowly changing.

There were more and more frequent confrontations between the soldiers and the seemingly inconspicuous demons. In addition, it seemed as if the demons were becoming strangely fiercer and more powerful.

The boy shook his head sobering and placed it on his desk. Instead of wasting his time on such thoughts, he could continue to observe and admire the idyllic city life in silence.

But the boy didn't have much time to dream because a brutal knock on his bedroom door dragged him back to reality. Startled, he looked at the door, but before he could say anything, it had already been pushed open.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

A man with a well-groomed, nut-brown beard and a full head of hair in which individual gray strands were already hidden came storming in. His turquoise eyes gave his appearance an almost majestic touch.

It was the boy's father. He was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a marathon. He was holding a white envelope in his right hand. He looked at his son with trembling eyes.

"You..."

His voice was shaking and it was visibly difficult for him to speak, as if the next sentence would seal the fate of his life. He slowly raised his hand and held the white envelope towards his son.

"You... you were accepted..." he sniffed raggedly.

Without saying a word, the boy reached for the envelope and pulled out the piece of paper that was carefully folded inside. With concentrated eyes he read what was written there again and again. His heart rate increased equally irregularly.

[With this letter we hereby officially confirm that your son, Moris Armand, has the necessary talent to assert himself at our academy. In order to become a part of the Laventa family alumni, your son still has to prove himself worthy of this opportunity. We expect him tomorrow at the seventh hour.

Semper Apertus

Dean Ambria Crosswood]

Moris still found it difficult to fully understand the situation. He fought back tears with an effort. He hadn't expected it at all.

"Maybe he just wasn't good enough," he thought, but he didn't have time for such self-doubt anymore. Like lightning, he jumped up from his chair and hugged his father, who was still in shock. Then he started packing, because he couldn't show up there without preparation.

The night had been a complete roller coaster ride for him. Joy and fear prevented him from getting much sleep. The morning was even harder for Moris. The dark circles under his eyes marked him in the mirror.

He slapped his cheeks with his palms. Being sleepy and exhausted didn't get him anywhere. Something like that had never helped anyone. There was only one thing that worried him.

"What's the best way to say goodbye to Dad?". Mori's father was the exact opposite of him. He was muscular, open-minded and the image of a true adventurer.

He was Moris's hero. But even heroes sometimes got stuck in holes from which they couldn't free themselves. Since the death of Moris's mother, his father has been in a permanent downward spiral.

He didn't eat regularly, spoke less, and worked only to escape the pain and the reality that his beloved counterpart no longer walked this earth. The only ray of hope left to him was his son Moris, the greatest gift his wife left to him.

Only through him did he find his way back to life. Moris knew all of this. It was even harder for him.

"Can he cope without me?". Such thoughts plagued him. When his father stormed into his room to wake him up, his worries faded. He had forgotten that his father was no longer the same as he had been a few years ago. He had made the jump and left the gorge behind him.

"Do I have something on my face?" Moris's father asked his son, who stared at him with a grin on his lips.

Moris just stormed up to him without any comment and hugged him as tightly as he could. His father was confused by the sudden situation, but soon understood what his son was trying to convey to him.

"I'll take care of myself. You just chase your dream so I can brag about my son being a student at the super cool Laventa Academy." he said with a laugh as he stroked Moris's head with his right hand.

The rest of the farewell actually went without any problems. It was only at the Continental Transportation Institute complex that his father suddenly began to cry.

"Get in touch more often!" he called after his son in tears before Moris entered the complex.

Moris didn't turn back. He would probably have cried too if he had seen his father's face.

The complex was buzzing with people. Many of them appeared to be traveling, judging by their clothing, while others wore uniforms similar to Moris's. Maybe they were his new classmates, he thought.

With wide eyes, he looked for the board that told him which room he had to go to to get to Redwoodsten. He found what he was looking for relatively quickly. Moris skilfully dodged through the masses of people until he arrived at the door where [Redwoodsten] was written above it.

"Stop!" a man in a red uniform stopped him as Moris wanted to go through the door.

"Your papers please!" he called out in an autonomous tone, without looking Moris in the eyes.

Moris dug out the pass that had come with the invitation the previous day. The man hurriedly took the note, read it and stepped aside.

"You can come in!"

He seemed like a robot because his facial expressions and tone didn't change a bit. Moris shrugged his shoulders and entered the room. It was filled with people and it was hard to even find an empty spot, let alone an empty seat.

Moris sighed. With an effort he forced himself between them. Suddenly a voice began counting down from ten. Everything would happen very quickly. When the voice reached zero, the surroundings suddenly lost all of their color and became a deep black.

Moris closed his eyes. He waited a few moments and then opened them again. Everything stayed the same, the same people and the same room. The complex also looked similar, although there were slight differences.

It wasn't until he stepped out into the fresh air that he truly realized what really happened in the room. Hundreds and hundreds of people roamed the huge square in front of Moris's eyes. He was hypnotized.

He gently slapped his cheeks with his palms. He also had the chance to explore at another time. He rummaged in his pocket for a small piece of paper his father had given him. [Brown, Blue and Blonde Hair] was written on it.

Moris scratched his head in confusion. His eyes frantically searched the surrounding area for what his father was trying to describe to him. After a few minutes he finally found what he was looking for.

A brown carriage with shimmering blue wheels stood on the side of the road in front of the Continental Transportation Institute. Standing in front of it was a middle-aged man with blonde hair who seemed to be looking for something.

"Excuse me?" Moris asked after he approached the man.

"Ah, Moris, right!" the man replied with a broad smile.

"Um, right."

"I knew it! I've been looking for you. My name is Cassidy, a good friend of your father."

"You know my father?"

"Didn't he tell you anything? About our adventures?"

"Not that I know of, no," Moris answered him.

"Then I'll tell you about it while we drive, haha! Get in, we're in a hurry. You can't be late on your first day."

Moris nodded enthusiastically. Cassidy had been absolutely right. Especially on the first day he couldn't be late. How else would he meet new friends. With one big step he jumped into the carriage.

"Let's go then!" Cassidy shouted, laughing.

*************************

A cool breeze swept through the nearby treetops and the sun had not yet fully risen. Moris straightened his uniform, which was a little askew from running to much.

He breathed exhaustedly. If the carriage had dropped him any further, he would probably have fallen over on the way without any energy left.

"..."

He was speechless. The castle-like structure in front of his eyes, the legendary Laventa Academy, looked as if it were from a fairy tale and had strayed into the real world. The waterfalls cascading from its sides and the flying island to its right made it seem like a place out of this world.

When Moris finally decided to walk through the big, old wooden gate, he was immediately greeted by a younger lady.

"You must be... Moris Armand, right."

"Um, yeah," he said confused.

"Then follow me," she replied to him and walked forward with quick steps without losing her smile.

The lady stopped in front of a huge door at the end of the corridor and touched it with her fingers while Moris watched her with interest.

She mumbled something quietly.

Moris didn't understand a word of what she whispered, but that didn't matter to him at the moment. Rather, he looked at the spectacle that was unfolding before his eyes.

After the lady removed her fingers from the door and took a few steps back, the door magically opened by itself. All that was visible behind the door was a bare wall, but that quickly changed too.

A pulsating white substance slowly spread into the doorframe, filling it till it overflowed.

"Now go in, otherwise you'll be late," said the lady in a friendly tone and pointed to the glowing door.

Moris just nodded tightly, swallowed the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth, and walked cautiously towards the door. The lady wore a uniform with the Laventa Academy's coat of arms, a bare tree with a sword sticking through it.

From this, Moris concluded that she was at least part of the academy, whether teacher or student. This boosted his confidence, but he wasn't completely convinced yet. '

"What's going to happen?"he thought, his mind filled with displeasure. As he pushed his hand into the white mass, it pulled him in with tremendous force. It happened so quickly that Moris could barely realize it because when he came to, he was in a different place.

"A portal..." said Moris, as if he had just deciphered the world's greatest secret.

The sounds sounded familiar to him anyway. "So it was runic language earlier, hmm" he thought, amazed. "I knew the sound sounded familiar." He looked at his surroundings carefully.

It was like a meeting hall filled to the brim with people. Judging by their faces, they appeared to be his age.

"New students, like me," he whispered to himself.

Moris was quite a bookworm, so he never really connected with his peers. Not to mention friends. This time it would be different, he decided and placed his fist triumphantly on his chest.

"Please sit down," it echoed through the hall.

Moris tried to identify the source of the voice. It seemed to come from the podium in the middle of the hall, but he couldn't see anyone there. Meanwhile, the seemingly new students sat down, almost in sync, and all noises stopped.

Only one boy was still standing and that was Moris. He turned his head back and forth to find another empty spot, but it looked impossible. How much he wanted to sink into the ground now. As he desperately pushed his way through the ranks of students, his cry for help must have been heard.

There were still empty seats in the right corner of the stands. With tears of joy in his eyes, he walked towards them and noticed that there was another boy sitting there.

He had forest green hair and pale, soft skin, which gave him an almost androgynous appearance. His dark blue eyes were like gates that led to the depths of the sea. He had an athletic figure, not too muscular and not too thin.

His clothes also seemed to have been chosen expensively and precisely. But one thing really surprised Moris. It seemed like the other students were avoiding him.

He was probably just imagining it.

"Hey!" Moris said in a friendly tone.

"..."

"Are you new here too?"

"..."

"Judging by your clothes, you must be of nobility. Unlike you, I look like I crawled out of some alley, haha!"

"..."

Moris got no reaction, no matter what he said.

"Maybe he doesn't understand me," Moris thought and gently tapped him on the shoulder. But that was a mistake. This time he got a reaction, but it was one he hadn't expected.

"Touch me again and I'll break your arm, you runt."

"..."

Mori's heart sank into his feet and his body began to tremble. The dark blue eyes staring at him suddenly seemed so incredibly menacing. A cold sweat formed on Mori's back.

There was probably a reason why the boy was sitting isolated from the others. If it had been up to him, he would have changed seats immediately, but everyone was sitting and he didn't want to be the only one standing out again. Besides, something else caught his attention.

"Everyone seems to be present," said the voice from the podium.

"You've all proven your talent, that's why you're here," she continued.

"The next four years will not be easy. Many of you will give up, fail and fall. Only a few of you will make it to the end of the fourth year. Still, I know that you can all do it if you put in enough effort."

The voice continued, but Moris's mind was filled with other thoughts. He hoped he wouldn't see this boy again after the induction ceremony, but he was sorely mistaken.

They were in the same class. A class that consisted only of commoners and the so-called "failures" of the nobility. Well, and this boy had been part of that group. Dean van Dehlen was his name.

A notorious monster who had only bad things said about him. And he had to share his school life with someone like that. If it wasn't already bad enough that he was limited by the prejudices of the nobility, now he was also being terrorized by this bastard.

And like that it went all year long, a hellish year for Moris. Somehow he became Dean's slave. He took notes for him, he did homework for him and in return Dean made fun of him.

Professor Gregory finally ended the lesson. Exhausted, Moris put his head on the table to rest briefly. His eyes burned from the exertion and if it were up to him, he would have thrown his glasses against the wall long ago.

"Hey, are you okay?"

A student placed his hand on Moris's back in pity. His name was Armin Desmond, a commoner and someone Moris could call a true friend.

"Yeah, it's okay."

"You sure? You don't look like it."

"I'll survive."

"If you say so," Armin said casually, while his eyes wandered to the second piece of paper on Moris's table.

"For Dean, huh?"

"..."

"How much longer do you want to do this, huh?"

"..."

"You should just tell him he can eat your ass, you know? I mean, he's treated worse than us, so what's going to happen."

It might have been easy for Armin, but definitely not for Moris. He was still thinking about the look Dean gave him at the induction ceremony and every time a cold sweat would form on his back. He couldn't forget it.

"Change of subject, what are you doing on vacation? We could-" but before Armin said the last words, his expression turned stiff and he fell silent.

Moris immediately knew why. He cursed Armin in his head for summoning the devil. His hands began to shake erratically.

"Hey, Moris, my a-" said the voice behind Moris, but when he turned around, the voice stopped.

It was the same face. The same face he had nightmares about for a long time.