In Chapter 5, Desmond starts making connections with his classmates and finds himself more at ease. But

Desmond's first week at the Academy was both overwhelming and exciting. Amidst the sprawling halls, endless stacks of books, and lecture rooms filled with the hum of curious students, he found himself adjusting—however cautiously—to the life of a student.

He made friends with a few classmates: Lira, a quick-witted girl who had a knack for elemental alchemy and an infectious laugh; Jaren, a quiet but insightful boy who specialized in healing spells; and Corrin, a cheerful student from the countryside who was determined to master transmutation despite frequent mishaps. Together, they formed an unlikely group, each one helping the others with their studies and swapping stories about their hometowns and dreams.

One morning, they entered their Practical Alchemy class, buzzing with excitement and nervous energy. Today was the day for their first official demonstration, where each student would show their proficiency in basic alchemical spells. Desmond felt his stomach twist with a mix of anticipation and fear. He knew he had some natural talent, but he was also keenly aware of the pendant around his neck, hidden under his shirt.

As each student took turns displaying their abilities, Desmond noted the range of skills—Lira's ability to summon small flames, Jaren's control over healing energies, and Corrin's successful, if clumsy, transmutation of lead into a polished brass cup. The professor nodded approvingly at each demonstration, occasionally giving advice or a suggestion for improvement.

When it was Desmond's turn, he stepped forward, determined to keep things simple. He focused on a minor illumination spell—a soft, glowing orb of light that was a standard spell for any alchemist in training. He held his breath and began the incantation, feeling the familiar warmth of alchemical energy pulse through his hands.

But something was wrong.

As he concentrated, the pendant around his neck seemed to flare with a life of its own, feeding power into his spell. His simple orb of light grew brighter and brighter until it blazed with a blinding, unnatural energy. The entire class gasped, shielding their eyes from the brilliant display. Desmond felt his heart race as he realized he had no control over it—whatever power the pendant held was spilling out, wild and untamed.

With a final effort, he managed to cut off the spell, leaving the room in stunned silence. He looked around, expecting his friends' faces to show worry or awe, but what he saw was a mixture of fear, admiration, and something darker.

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Standing at the back of the room was Orin, a senior student known for his impressive command over elemental alchemy and a confident, sometimes arrogant, demeanor. Orin's gaze was fixed on Desmond, his expression unreadable. But as Desmond's eyes met his, he felt a chill. There was a challenge in Orin's stare, an unmistakable hostility that spoke volumes.

After class, Lira, Jaren, and Corrin pulled him aside, their faces a mix of amazement and concern.

"Desmond, that was… incredible," Lira said, her eyes wide. "But where did that power come from?"

Desmond hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "I'm… still figuring it out," he murmured, trying to brush off the incident as an accident. "I didn't mean for it to get that intense."

Corrin grinned, slapping him on the back. "Well, you definitely got everyone's attention. Did you see the look on Orin's face?"

Jaren looked worried, glancing back towards the classroom. "Orin didn't look pleased, though. He's not the type to take being overshadowed lightly."

As the days passed, Desmond could feel the weight of Orin's resentment growing. It started with subtle things—glares in the hallways, whispered comments from Orin's friends, even occasional "accidental" bumping into him during class. Orin was clearly a well-respected and skilled student, but Desmond's unexpected display of power had put a target on his back.

One evening, as Desmond sat alone in the library, going over his notes, Orin approached him, leaning against the edge of the table with a smirk.

"You put on quite a show in Practical Alchemy," Orin sneered, his voice low. "But don't think that makes you special. Real power takes discipline—something you clearly lack."

Desmond kept his gaze steady, refusing to let Orin's words get to him. "I'm just here to learn," he said calmly. "Whatever happened in class was an accident."

Orin scoffed. "An accident? That's convenient. Just remember, a flash of light doesn't make you a master alchemist. It just makes you a fool who doesn't know what he's dealing with." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And people who play with forces they don't understand don't last long around here."

With that, Orin turned and left, leaving Desmond alone with his thoughts. His hands trembled as he clutched his pendant, feeling its unnatural warmth. It was true—he didn't fully understand the power he wielded. But he also knew that he couldn't let fear or rivalry hold him back. If he was going to survive the Academy, he would need to learn everything he could about the pendant's curse and its powers, no matter what it cost him.

Desmond's friends found him soon after, and they sat together in the library, their voices hushed as they discussed the day's events. Lira and Corrin offered their support, while Jaren expressed his concern. As they laughed and whispered, Desmond felt a brief moment of relief—an escape from the dark path he was on. But even surrounded by his friends, he couldn't shake the feeling that Orin's threat was only the beginning.