Page 87 of Academy of the Wicked, Year Two

Yet there's something grounding about embracing such normal considerations, about playing the role of students despite extraordinary circumstances surrounding our presence here.

"Then we should finish breakfast," I decide, reaching for the plate Cassius slides toward me with silent understanding of my preferences.

The simple gesture —remembering I prefer fruit and protein in the mornings rather than heavier options— touches me more deeply than grand declarations might have.

As conversation shifts to more practical matters of navigating first day logistics, I allow myself momentary fantasyof normalcy — just students preparing for classes, sharing meal and casual conversation before facing academic challenges rather than life-threatening trials.

The illusion won't last, of course. Wicked Academy ensures no peace remains undisturbed for long. But for this brief interlude, surrounded by companions whose connections to me defy simple classification, I embrace temporary comfort of routine and shared purpose.

Mini Grim returns to my shoulder, tiny skull tilting against my neck in gesture that somehow conveys affection despite his fearsome origins.

Behind me, Cassius's Duskwalker being continues its gentle manipulation of my hair, shadows weaving silver strands into intricate patterns that likely carry meaning I don't yet understand.

I catch Cassius watching this interaction with expression I can't quite decipher — something between satisfaction and contemplation, as if witnessing confirmation of theories he's been developing.

When our eyes meet, he offers that rare smile that transforms his typically stoic features into something approaching warmth.

Before I can return the gesture, Nikki makes an exaggerated gagging sound that breaks the moment with adolescent precision.

"If you two are going to make eyes at each other across the table, at least wait until after I've finished eating," she protests with aristocratic distaste that doesn't quite hide underlying amusement.

"We weren't—" I begin automatically, only to be interrupted by Atticus's knowing chuckle.

"They absolutely were," he confirms with casual certainty that makes heat rise to my cheeks again. "Though you're hardlyone to criticize, considering how you've been watching Mortimer since breakfast began."

"I have not!" Nikki protests, golden eyes widening with genuine indignation that quickly transforms into embarrassment as everyone turns to assess her reaction. "I was merely noting the stylistic differences in upperclassmen uniforms for future reference."

"Of course," Mortimer agrees with scholarly neutrality that might be convincing if not for the subtle quirk at the corner of his mouth. "Purely academic observation."

The teasing exchange continues as we finish breakfast, normal dynamics of roommates preparing for our day ahead, temporarily overshadowing greater challenges looming in our futures.

For these precious minutes, we're simply students sharing a meal before classes, the bonds between us complicated but real, the connections growing despite —or perhaps because of—extraordinary circumstances that brought us together.

Soon enough I'll step through that warded threshold, Gabriel's form replacing Gwenivere’s with magical efficiency.

We'll face whatever trials Year Two has prepared for those deemed worthy of advancement and the search for Elena's chalice will resume with renewed urgency against temporal disadvantage.

But for now, in this pocket of ordinary routine amid extraordinary circumstances, I allow myself to simply be present — neither focused on past traumas nor future challenges, but experiencing this unexpected moment of connection with companions who've somehow become essential despite all logical reasons they shouldn't have.

Mini Grim hums his strange melody against my neck, the sound carrying notes of contentment that resonate with something long dormant within me.

Perhaps this is what hope feels like when surrounded by the right individuals who can lead you on a path that fulfils destiny.

The realization is both terrifying and precious in its fragility.

Blood Roses And Fabled Warnings

~GWENIVERE~

The classroom is structured in an ascending semicircle, each row of polished obsidian desks rising higher than the one before, creating an amphitheater-like arrangement that ensures perfect visibility no matter where students choose to sit.

The space blends aesthetic beauty with practical functionality in a way only Faerie architecture seems to manage — gold and silver inlays trace magical circuits throughout the obsidian surfaces, pulsing with subtle energy that enhances learning capacity while simultaneously reinforcing protective wards.

The ceiling deserves its own scholarly appreciation.

Rather than mundane plaster or even enchanted glass, it's comprised of what appears to be living night sky, constellations shifting in slow, deliberate patterns that correspond to magical classifications being discussed.

When Professor Eternalis mentioned blood magic, the stars rearranged into the ancient symbol for life essence, glittering crimson at their centers rather than the typical white-blue.

---