Professor Thorne's lecture droned on.

I took notes anyway, my hand moving on autopilot while my mind wandered.

The bell rang, cutting through my thoughts.

"That's all for today," Thorne said, gathering his papers. "Read chapters five and six. There will be a quiz next class."

Groans echoed through the room.

Thorne ignored them and left.

Students began packing up, the usual post-class chaos filling the air, conversations resuming, chairs scraping, the shuffle of feet heading for the door.

Kyle stood, stretching his arms overhead. "Finally. I thought that was never gonna end."

I closed my notebook and stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

Kyle grinned. "Wanna grab food? Or hit the training grounds?"

"Neither. Library."

"Again? You're gonna turn into a book."

"Better than turning into you."

"Rude." He laughed anyway.

"Alright, I'm heading to the armory. Gotta practice with the new gear."

"Don't break anything."

"I'll try!"

We stepped out into the hallway, the flow of students carrying us toward the main exit.

At the plaza, we split, Kyle heading east toward the training grounds, me turning south toward the library.

As I reached there, I noticed library was quieter than usual.

Mid-afternoon meant most students were either in class, training, or napping. Only the dedicated remained, heads bent over books, quills scratching softly against parchment.

I scanned the room, looking for an empty table.

Then I saw her.

Emma.

She sat at the same table as last time, near the back by the tall bookshelves. But this time, she wasn't reading.

She was just... sitting there.

Waiting.

Her hands rested in her lap, fingers fidgeting slightly. Her gaze moved across the room, searching.

Then it landed on me.

Her face lit up immediately, and she waved.

I blinked.

She's waiting for me.

Why?

I walked over, weaving between tables, and stopped in front of her.

"So," I said, pulling out the chair across from her and sitting down. "You're waiting for me?"

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she nodded. "I thought... maybe you'd come by again. You did the last two times, so..."

She's tracking my schedule?

I set my bag down. "And if I didn't?"

"Then I'd look really stupid sitting here alone with no books." She laughed nervously, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "But you're here, so it worked out."

I leaned back in the chair. "You could've just brought a book. Pretended you were studying."

"I did!" She gestured at the stack beside her, clearly untouched. "But I wasn't really reading. I kept looking up every time someone walked by."

That's... oddly honest.

"Why?"

She hesitated, her fingers twisting together in her lap. "Because it's nice. Talking to you. Unlike others..."

"Most people here suck," I said bluntly.

She laughed. "Yeah. They really do."

"So you're here because I'm marginally less terrible?"

"Basically." She grinned, relaxing slightly. "Is that okay?"

I shrugged. "Sure. I was coming here anyway."

"Good." She pulled one of her books toward her, flipping it open. "So what are you working on today?"

"Logistics. Supply chains."

"Sounds boring."

"It is."

"Then why are you doing it?"

"Because Thorne's quizzing us next class and I'd rather not fail."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Fair. I've been putting off my elemental theory assignment because it's just... so much reading. Like, how many ways can you describe fire? It's hot. It burns things. Done."

I smirked. "Pretty sure there's more to it than that."

"I know, I know." She sighed dramatically.

We settled into a rhythm after that, Emma working on her assignment, me reviewing my notes. Every so often, she'd mutter something under her breath about, and I'd glance up to see her scribbling furiously in the margins.

At one point, she looked up. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you... ever get nervous? About the practical exam?"

"Yeah."

She blinked, like she'd expected me to brush it off. "Really?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh." She looked down at her hands. "I thought maybe you weren't worried because you're... I don't know. You always seem calm."

"I'm not calm. I'm just too tired to panic."

She laughed, then stopped, realizing I wasn't joking. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah."

She smiled, softer this time. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you'll be fine. You're smart. And you think fast. That counts for a lot."

"You think so?"

"Yeah." She hesitated, then added quietly, "And if we end up in the same group, I'd be really happy about that."

I looked at her.

She was staring at her book now, her cheeks slightly pink.

"Same," I said.

She looked up, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. You're competent. And you don't talk too much."

"Wow. High praise."

"It is, actually."

She laughed, shaking her head.

We went back to our work, but this time, Emma looked happy.

Like sitting here, in a quiet library, working on boring assignments with someone who didn't care about rankings or bloodlines, was exactly where she wanted to be.

Huh.

Guess I'm not the only one who feels that way.

I turned a page in my notebook, jotting down another note.

We worked in silence for a while, the library quiet around us except for the occasional rustle of pages and distant footsteps.

Then Emma looked up, chewing her lip. "Can I ask you something again?"

"Sure."

She turned her notebook toward me, revealing a diagram covered in arrows and annotations. "I'm trying to map out elemental interaction chains. Like, how fire weakens ice, but ice can suppress lightning under certain conditions. But the logic keeps breaking down when I add environmental modifiers."

I leaned forward, studying the diagram.

And explained, in simple words.

Her eyes widened. "Oh. That makes so much sense. Why don't the textbooks explain it like that?"

"Because they're written by people who already understand it and forgot what it's like not to."

She laughed, grabbing her quill and starting to redraw the diagram. "You're really good at this. Breaking things down, I mean."

"It's just logic."

"Maybe for you. "

She tilted her head, studying me. "You're smart, even being a combatant."

Is this a praise or sarcasm?

Then she added, "Though I've been me meaning to ask you... what's your affinity?"

"I don't have one."

She froze, her quill hovering above the page. "What?"

"No affinity. I tested during the entrance exam, the crystal barely glowed."

Her mouth opened slightly, then closed. She stared at me like I'd just told her I was secretly a dragon.

"But... how did you pass the magic trial?"

"Barely. I can't cast spells like normal people. The instructor passed me on a technicality because I demonstrated 'magical application.'"

"What?"

"Long story."

She set her quill down, still processing. "So you're F-rank, no affinity, and you can't cast standard spells."

"Yep."

She stared at me for a long moment. Then her expression shifted, not pity, not judgment. Something else.

"Show me."

I blinked. "What?"

"Try casting something. Right now. I want to see what happens."

"Emma, I can't—"

"Just try. Please?"

I sighed, rubbing my temple. "It's not going to work."

"Humor me."

Fine.

I held out my hand, palm up, and tried to do what Instructor Kael had taught us during the magic trial.

Gather mana. Compress. Release.

I focused, pulling at the mana inside me, the faint, sluggish reservoir that barely responded.

A flicker of raw energy appeared above my palm. Unstable. Formless. It wavered for maybe three seconds before sputtering out like a dying candle.

Emma watched intently, her eyes tracking every movement.

"See?" I said, lowering my hand. "Nothing."

"No, not nothing." She leaned forward, excited. "There was something. It's just... blocked. Like your mana pathways are clogged."

"I'm serious!" She stood up suddenly, moving around the table to sit beside me. "Try again."

"Emma—"

"Just trust me."

Before I could argue, she reached out and took my hand.

Her fingers were warm, her grip light but steady.

I narrowed my eyes. "What are you—?"

"Shh. Focus."

She closed her eyes, and I felt it, a gentle flow of mana. Like warm water seeping through cracks.

Her mana mixed with mine, smoothing out the jagged, stuttering flow I was used to.

"Now try," she said quietly.

I focused again, gathering mana the same way as before.

This time, it moved smoother. Less resistance. The energy above my palm formed faster, held longer before finally dissipating.

What?

Emma opened her eyes, grinning. "See? You can do it. You just need help stabilizing your mana flow."

I stared at my hand, then at her. "How did you—?"

"Your pathways aren't broken. They're just narrow. Like trying to pour water through a clogged pipe. If someone helps smooth the flow at first, it gets easier." She squeezed my hand lightly, still smiling. "It's not permanent, but with practice, your body will learn to do it on its own."

She let go of my hand, her expression bright and determined. "I can teach you. Every day, here in the library. We'll work on mana control, basic casting. You'll be able to use your affinity spells in no time."

"I don't have an affinity."

"You have something. Everyone does. We just need to figure out what yours is."

I looked at her, sitting there, so earnest and convinced that she could fix what the entire Academy testing system said was unfixable.

"Okay," I said quietly.

Her face lit up.

"Yeah. But if this doesn't work, you owe me an apology for wasting my time."

She laughed, practically bouncing in her seat. "Deal! But it's going to work. I know it will."

We'll see.

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