Page 113 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

The implications alone could fill volumes of magical theory texts.

But perhaps more intriguing is how natural it all seems, as if these impossible combinations of power have simply been waiting for the right catalyst to manifest.

I catch Cassius watching them, his silver eyes tracking every movement of Nikolai's hands through Gwenivere's hair. There's no jealousy in his gaze — only a sort of quiet understanding that makes me wonder just how deep this connection between the three of them truly runs.

The shadows around him pulse gently, matching the rhythm of Nikolai's golden light. Even Grim, hovering nearby in his newfound corporeal form, seems content with this arrangement — his usual protective stance relaxed as he observes the scene.

The academic portion of my mind races with questions, theories, and potential experiments that could help us understand this unprecedented situation. But the part of me that has spent centuries studying the darker aspects of magic, the portion that earned me a place among the Seven, recognizes something far more significant.

We're witnessing the birth of something that will be the catalyst for all beings in this wicked space.

I can already think of the secrets that will be forced to come to light with Gwenievere's —or Gabriel’s —attendance, and I encourage it, for we’d be forced to learn, and potentially unlearn, many things.

Something that could either reshape our understanding of magical bonds and cross-species relationships or tear apart the very fabric of our carefully ordered society.

And somehow, I suspect that's exactly what Nikolai intended.

"What did the Headmaster say?" Damien demands, gesturing at Nikolai's transformed appearance. "If you look like this, you must have spoken with them."

Nikolai's hands remain steady in their work as he answers.

"We had a brief conversation," he admits, his tone casual despite the weight of his words. "I affirmed our group's intention to proceed with our official studies at Wicked Academy."

He pauses, gathering the final strands of Gwenivere's hair between his fingers.

Golden threads of magic manifest at his touch, weaving through her silver locks like threads of living light. The strands begin to move of their own accord, braiding themselves into an intricate crown pattern that speaks of both beauty and practicality.

The style, when complete, forms a perfect crown braid with spaces deliberately left for future adornments — flowers or jewels could easily be woven into the elaborate pattern.

A protective style.

I can’t help but note, recognizing the subtle defensive magic he's working into each twist.

"Gwenivere will be joining us," he states simply as if discussing the weather rather than dropping another bombshell into our already complicated situation.

"So the Headmaster knows Gabriel is actually a woman?" I ask, unable to contain my curiosity.

"I'd assume so," Nikolai replies, adjusting one final strand of hair. "Though they didn't specify whether any of us would face penalties for this deception."

I nod slowly, but my mind races with possibilities.

There's more to this conversation than Nikolai's revealing — that much is certain. But this is Wicked Academy, where every word could be a weapon and every truth might hide a dozen lies.

In a place like this, who can truly say who's friend or foe?

"You're saying they know she's a woman and just…let it be?!" Damien's voice cracks with disbelief.

"They do, and they did," Nikolai confirms, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. "Why else would Gwenivere still be alive if that wasn't the case?"

When Damien fails to produce a counter-argument, Nikolai simply says.

"I rest my case." Turning his attention to Cassius, he carries on with, "Could Grim watch her back at our place while we get our schedules and such?"

Grim responds with a puff of smoke, already moving to take Nikolai's position behind Gwenivere.

Cassius nods.

"Sure."

---