Chapter 2
During the new‑student forest practical for class 1‑C at the Merlin Institute Academy – the MIA – the students were out among the trees, practising their magic.
Most of the noble kids were only slightly above average: they could manage a very slow pellet of fire, or whatever element they specialised in.
But not Okama.
His light magic focused into a razor‑thin beam that sliced straight through the stone dummy they were using, like it was made of butter.
“Way to go, Okama!” said Mai, stroking the yowling Puss.
It was her turn next. Her water magic wasn’t as destructive, but her spell still blasted the dummy apart. After the lesson, the class split off toward their common rooms. Okama and Mai headed to the same house together.
“I wonder what our classmates are doing right now…” sighed Mai.
“Don’t worry, Mai,” said Okama, trying to sound calm. “We’ll find them. All of them. Maybe not some of the nastier ones, though.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” she tittered, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
The next day, Okama didn’t speak at all.
He stayed quiet for the two days after that as well, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched. Even in class, he sat there staring at his desk.
“Hey, Okama?” asked Mai softly, gripping Puss a little too tightly.
“Yes,” he replied through his fingers, sounding furious and deeply hurt.
She asked how he was doing.
“Of course I’m not doing okay,” he snapped. “My brother, the hero, was killed in that new high‑level dungeon.”
“I—”
Mai froze, unsure what to say, then backed out of the room.
In the corridor, she almost ran into the slightly loony girl from their class, Yuki Asara. Yuki was staring out of a window at the storm as if it were mildly boring.
“Um…”
Mai tried to walk past without drawing attention.
“Hello… Mai,” whispered the girl serenely. “I was wondering when you’d come out of Okama’s room. Is he okay?”
“No, I don’t think so…” sighed Mai.
Yuki – or Luna, as some called her – looked Mai up and down, taking in her strikingly green eyes, her dark hair in a plait, her smooth skin, and her very fancy clothes. Mai really was beautiful.
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Yuki thought briefly of Okama: the boy with red hair and a single blue streak, green eyes, lightly tanned skin, and the habit of wearing warrior gear and carrying a sword almost everywhere he went.
Yuki turned away, looking as bored as ever, and left Mai more confused than before.
In the next class, Okama still didn’t speak.
Even while they practised spells, he stayed silent. He barely reacted when Mai tried to cheer him on.
After Yuki finished an unsuccessful spell, a distant roar cut through the classroom chatter. A heartbeat later, a burst of red flame erupted from the trees at the forest’s edge, in exactly the direction the roar had come from.
A black wyvern burst into view.
The creature was all wings and tail: a lean, snake‑like body balanced on two powerful, clawed hind legs, with a pair of vast, batlike wings instead of forearms. Its scales were so dark they seemed to drink in the light, and a barbed tail whipped behind it as it swooped over the class in tight circles, spitting red flame.
“Everyone run! It’s a black wyvern!” yelled Okama – his first real shout in days.
Black wyverns were the strongest kind of wyvern – and wyverns were already the weakest of the recognised dragon species, way below true dragons, greater wyrms, wyrms, and drakes. They were only about five times as strong as a pixie wyrm.
But this one still radiated killing intent.
The dragon language powered this monster’s magic. It spoke in harsh, clipped consonants, a growling code none of the students understood.
“Pny hmns r n mtch fr m!” hissed the wyvern.
It was obviously Draconian, but none of the students knew that.
“Okama, you need to attack with your sword while I defend with magic and the teacher attacks with magic!” Mai shouted, relief flickering through her that he was finally talking again. (This wasn’t their original teacher, obviously.)
Okama rushed in.
His blade bit into the wyvern’s thick black hide, leaving shallow cuts. When it dove, he rolled under a sweep of its barbed tail and slashed upward, finally tearing into the thin skin of its wing. The membrane ripped with a wet crack, and the wyvern lurched, its next pass wobbling as it fought to keep its balance on two legs and damaged wings.
“Y nslnt wrms!” hissed the gigantic black wyvern, a lesser cousin to true dragons. “Yll gt y yt!”
It beat its wings hard, kicking up a gale of wind and dust. Short, vicious bursts of flame sprayed from its jaws, searing the ground in jagged lines as it circled lower. With a heavy thud, it dropped to the ground, furling its wings close to protect the torn membrane and lowering itself onto its smooth, scaled belly like a coiled serpent ready to strike.
The battle truly began.
Okama attacked up close alongside Mr Alve, darting in at the gaps between its wing joints and hind legs, while Mai poured her energy into advanced healing and defence magic, keeping them on their feet. The wyvern lunged and twisted with frightening speed, lashing out with its tail like a whip and raking the air with its talons whenever they came too close. Each time it inhaled, Okama and Mr Alve had to dive aside from another cone of burning breath.
It felt like hours before the beast’s movements finally began to slow. One wing hung limp and tattered. Its tail lashes grew sluggish. With a final, defiant hiss in Draconian and a desperate swipe of its claws, the black wyvern collapsed, its long body slamming into the scorched earth.
Afterward, the three of them were scolded for being reckless – and praised just as much for their bravery and magical prowess.
Back in class, they were congratulated by almost everyone.
Even Yuki managed a faint “Well done,” though she still looked bored.
By evening, the students were drifting back to their dorms again, as if it were just another day at the MIA.
But for Okama, Mai, and the others, nothing felt quite as normal as before.
In a small ice‑elf settlement, a young woman with blue hair, long drooping ears, and bright yellow eyes that stood out against her pale complexion sat alone, reading… a history book.
She seemed to be looking for a specific detail – and then found it.
“Aha!” she said with glee, her composure cracking into sudden elation.