In the Shadow of the Academy

Foreword Dear reader, Thank you for staying with me and choosing to read the new version of this book. This past year has been a true challenge for me, and only after overcoming it was I able to return to writing. I wanted to create not just a story, but something truly memorable, and now I’m excited to share this revised version with you. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this new format. I’ll do my best to release the chapters as quickly as possible, though I can’t promise to keep up with a bi-weekly schedule — this is a meticulous and demanding process. As soon as each chapter is released in Russian, the English version will follow shortly after, ensuring that all readers can enjoy the story together. Thank you for your patience and support. I hope this journey will be unforgettable for both of us. Amelia What can change in a year? Everything. School changes, and your usual life crumbles in an instant. Just a week ago, I was carefree, hanging out with friends, and now I’m sitting in a car with my stepmother and stepsister. My entire reality turned upside down when that fateful letter from Valorian Academy arrived with a short note: “You have been admitted.” I still don’t understand why me? My father divorced my stepmother two years ago, and since then, our life became an endless struggle for survival. His business collapsed six months after the divorce, and we were barely making ends meet. I worked wherever I could, and he would disappear for weeks, even months, without explaining where he was. When he returned, chaos reigned in the house. I didn’t live up to his expectations, but in what way? I studied, tried hard, did everything to keep things in order, but nothing could satisfy him. All his outbursts were directed at me. And now this letter… Why did it come to me? I had applied to the music department—singing was always my passion. I thought I could finally move forward, that life would improve, but everything fell apart in one moment. My father was jumping with joy, while I was completely confused. I wasn’t even given a chance to say a word. He just told me to pack my things. And then my stepmother, whom I hadn’t heard from in two years, called and said that by the end of the week, I should be ready to leave. The documents, which I hadn’t even planned to send, somehow made their way to the academy. It was a low blow. I tried to figure out why they did this behind my back, but the principal of my school didn’t even bother to explain. He just kicked me out of his office as if he’d seen a ghost. What are they hiding? And here I am, sitting in this damn car, listening to my ex-stepmother lecture me about who I am and what my current situation is. As if I didn’t already know that my life no longer belongs to me. I dozed off as we drove to the academy, and I had a strange dream. I was standing on the edge of a cliff in a white dress, with a black dragon soaring in the sky above me. I softly hummed a melody that felt painfully familiar, but I couldn’t remember where it was from. The dragon flew closer, its wings stirred up a powerful wind that crashed over me. I covered my face with my hands so I wouldn’t be blown away. When the gusts subsided, a familiar figure stood before me—an enormous beast, dangerous yet majestic. Its gaze was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic. I opened my mouth to say something, but I was suddenly pulled out of the dream. I snapped my eyes open and began gasping for air, trying to calm down. My stepmother, Illona Bayer, noticing this, coughed coldly and, as always, addressed me in a displeased tone. – Amelia… – she began, with a disapproving grimace on her face. Her light hair, almost white, was neatly styled, giving her the look of a true lady, and her cold blue eyes looked at me with arrogance. – You need to understand one thing. “She’s going to tell me again what to do and how to behave,” ran through my mind. I was so tired of it. But she continued, unaware of my thoughts: – You were only admitted here thanks to your mother and me. She said this with such coldness that an unpleasant wave ran down my spine. A reminder of my mother—the one I never knew and who died during childbirth, not living to see her 25th birthday. Oh, if only I could say something to her, if I had the right… But all I could answer was a quiet: – Yes, ma’am. – Amelia Armstrong, behave properly. Study and stay out of my daughter’s way. Do you understand your place? – she continued with cold insistence. How I wished I could disappear right here in the car. But I had no choice but to answer: – Yes, ma’am. Illona Bayer looked at me triumphantly, seeing me obediently follow her instructions. Her next words were even sharper: – Bayer has invested a lot of money into this academy. His influence is great. If you become an outcast from day one—it might actually be better. She continued to speak with such indifference, as if my presence here meant nothing to her. I again wondered: why am I here? Why do they even need me? But before I could think about it further, Eva, my stepsister, broke into the conversation. Her light brown hair was neatly styled over her shoulders, and her brown eyes looked at me with undisguised contempt. Her slender figure was accentuated by the perfectly fitted academy uniform, and her appearance exuded confidence and superiority. – Don’t you dare, you hear me? Don’t you dare tell anyone that we’re stepsisters unless you want your life to become hell. Got it? – she said with contempt, almost poking me in the chest with her finger. Her words stung, but I didn’t let it show. My stepmother, smirking, sat back, clearly proud of her daughter. Glancing at her watch, she looked out the window and said: – We’re arriving, girls. We’ll leave the rest of the conversation for later. Adjusting her hair, she said: – It’s entrance day, after all. Eva dear, hold your head high when you step out. Amelia, do something about your appearance. This won’t do. Tie your hair back, at least make yourself look somewhat presentable. I looked out the window and saw my reflection. A tired face, deep circles under my eyes that no makeup could hide. My long, black-as-night hair was scattered over my shoulders. Oh, how I wished I could just disappear. Obeying the order, I gathered my hair into a ponytail to look somewhat neater. The dark circles under my eyes contrasted with my blue eyes, making me look like a ghost. When we finally arrived at the academy gates, I looked at my reflection again and felt a wave of sadness wash over me. My stepmother was the first to step out of the car, followed by my stepsister Eva. Of course, no one even thought to help me with the luggage, and with a sigh, I got out, dusting off my skirt. Looking around, I couldn’t help but admire the majestic beauty of Valorian Academy. Tall Renaissance-style buildings towered against the backdrop of mountain peaks. Behind them, cascading waterfalls framed the landscape like a painting, surrounded by forests. Snow-capped mountain peaks reflected in the mirror-like surface of the lake that stretched along the grounds. The stone towers of the academy, with their pointed roofs, gave the place an air of mystery and grandeur. The clicking of my stepmother’s heels echoed along the stone-paved path, pulling me out of my reverie. I quickly looked down at my feet, while she, with a radiant smile, extended her hands to someone approaching. — Sir Darin Drago, how happy I am to see you! When I was informed that my daughter, Eva Bayer, was admitted here, I thought we were the happiest people in the world, — she said with excessive enthusiasm. Darin Drago just hummed, gave us a quick, appraising glance, and forced a polite smile. He was dressed with perfect precision, as if he had just stepped off the cover of a magazine. An expensive suit, a perfectly groomed beard, and a stately posture. His black hair was tied back in a small ponytail, adding to his charisma. But what stood out the most were his eyes — dark green, which suddenly locked onto me, as if piercing through me. I froze for a moment and quickly looked away. My stepmother, sensing my reaction, began to simmer, and her irritation was palpable in the air. But Darin quickly interrupted her: — Madam, I appreciate your words, but let’s keep the emotions in check. The girls have been admitted, and that’s enough. He cut off her flattery so abruptly that I couldn’t help but smile. My stepmother, of course, was not thrilled by such a cold response, but she pressed on: — Oh, you know how much this opportunity means to our family... Darin interrupted her again, shifting his gaze from her to us: — I am the curator of their course. It is my duty to greet the students and escort them. You may say your goodbyes now. I will take them from here. His voice held no emotion. Eva blushed sweetly, as if the most charming man she had ever seen was standing before her. Though, knowing her habit of changing boyfriends like gloves, I wasn’t surprised. My stepmother, not hiding her displeasure, walked over to Eva, gave her a tight hug, and whispered something in her ear. The smile that played on Eva’s face was far too satisfied to be a good sign. Then, unexpectedly, she turned to me and hugged me as well. Her cold hands touched my shoulder, and she whispered: — Just try to mess up, and you’ll end up like your mother. Her words sent a chill through me, but I managed to force a polite smile. She let go of me, turning back to Eva, as if I no longer existed, and continued giving her advice. I grabbed my things from the chauffeur — no one intended to help me — and slung my bag over my shoulder. Glancing at the curator, I noticed a slight smirk on his face. Was he watching this spectacle with interest, or was I just imagining it? — It's time to go, — Darin said curtly and moved forward. I hurried to follow, though the weight on my shoulders, both physical and emotional, felt heavy. Eva glanced at me, but was quickly distracted by our stepmother, who handed her her luggage. Eva obediently followed us. As we entered, I couldn’t suppress a quiet gasp of admiration. The high ceilings were adorned with dark wood beams, and the walls were lined with paintings, each looking like a masterpiece from the Renaissance. Huge chandeliers, studded with crystals, reflected light, giving the hall a soft, warm glow. The floor was paved with marble tiles, polished so perfectly that you could see your reflection. The central hall resembled a palace — with luxurious carpets, golden statues, and a grand staircase leading to the second floor. The air was thick with a sense of grandeur and history, as if every corner breathed power and prestige. Eva walked beside me, pretending not to be impressed. She kept a stoic expression, as if she had been here countless times and all this beauty left her unmoved. The curator, Sir Darin Drago, moved faster than we could keep up, and it seemed to irritate him. The academy was buzzing with life: students hurried through the corridors, each on their own path, with their own business. It felt like we were the last ones to arrive. The glances cast in our direction didn’t escape my notice. The boys smiled and waved, while the girls sneered as if I had already done something to offend them. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and it made me uncomfortable. We arrived at the curator's office, where a plaque on the door read: "Darin Drago — Director of Valorian Academy." In the hall sat an elderly secretary, her gray hair tied in a strict bun, her fingers quickly tapping away at the computer keys. Seeing us, she cast a disapproving look in our direction, sighed, and addressed the curator with a scolding tone: — Ah, here are the latecomers. Couldn’t you arrive on time? Her words made my stomach clench. Late? But the acceptance letter had only arrived at the start of the school year, and to be honest, the journey had been long — first by plane, then driving across half the country. I wanted to explain, but Darin spoke first, coldly: — She came from far away. Are the rooms ready, Miss Nora? The secretary, hearing his cold voice, blushed slightly and changed her tone. She quickly scrolled through something on her screen, then clicked her tongue and, addressing him, said: — You see, Miss Eva Bayer’s room was prepared in advance, but we received no reminders about a second student... She glanced at me, a mix of surprise and disdain flickering in her eyes. “Here comes the fun,” I thought to myself, feeling Eva smirking beside me. Darin quietly chuckled, assessing the situation, and turned to the secretary. — Escort Miss Eva Bayer to the housekeeper, — his voice became even colder and more distant. — I will handle the room arrangements for the second student. The secretary instantly became flustered, noticeably nervous, and nodded quickly, apologizing for the "error," though she continued to shoot me angry looks as if I were the one responsible for the confusion. She then turned to Eva with a stern tone and said: — Follow me, Miss Bayer. I will show you where to go. She smiled politely but with a hint of sycophancy. Before leaving, the secretary addressed Darin with a smile that made her thin lips tremble slightly: — Director, I will take care of this situation with the student. I hope it will be resolved quickly. Darin gave a short nod and opened the door to his office, as if he had anticipated all of this. As Eva passed by me, she shot me a cold look and with a malicious smile whispered: — A loser then, a loser now. Those words cut deep, like a knife to the heart. Eva, satisfied that everything was going according to her plan, followed the secretary. I felt not only humiliated but lost. I wanted to run away from here, far from this place, from these people, from the entire situation. But running was impossible — I knew that without money or support, no one would take me in. Besides, my stepmother would destroy me if I didn’t live up to their “plans.” I remembered the recent bruises on my body, the marks from fights with my father when I tried to understand why he signed the documents for me. It was hell, and running back there made no sense. But there was no time to dwell on it. I stepped into the director’s office and couldn’t contain my surprise. It was a spacious room with high ceilings adorned with stucco depicting scenes from mythology. Huge windows covered almost the entire wall, offering a stunning view — mountains, forests, and a lake shimmering in the sunlight. Sunlight streamed onto a massive mahogany desk, carved with intricate designs. Behind it sat the academy’s director himself — Darin Drago. Neatly arranged documents lay on the desk, next to an ornate silver pen holder. The room was filled with books, ancient tomes lining the shelves from floor to ceiling. Above the marble fireplace hung a large portrait of a man in a robe — presumably one of the academy’s founders. The entire office exuded power, grandeur, and intellectual superiority. Darin Drago sat at the desk, his figure emphasizing the coldness and strictness of the setting. His black hair was tied back, and his green eyes watched me intently, almost emotionlessly. It seemed like he already knew everything about me. — How long are you going to stand in the doorway? — he asked coldly, not taking his eyes off me. — Come in and sit down. We have things to discuss. My insides twisted, fear gripped me. It felt like I was about to be sent back. Panic rose within me: how would I return without means? How would I explain things to my father and stepmother? But there was no choice. I took a deep breath, holding back the tears that were welling up. Entering the director’s office, I realized I still had my things with me, which I hadn’t left at the entrance, though I had planned to. In my haste, I had just set them down next to the secretary’s desk and followed Darin. Now, sitting in front of the director, I realized I had completely forgotten about my luggage. But there was no time to worry about that now — the atmosphere in the office made me feel like I was under a microscope. The director pulled out some papers and began sorting through them until he found the one he needed. Slowly studying it, he remained silent while I felt like I was on the brink of something terrible. Time dragged on endlessly. I kept glancing out the window at the breathtaking mountain view, then back at the director’s face, trying not to look too tense. No one would have thought that our curator would turn out to be the academy’s director himself. Luck was clearly not on my side. When he finally finished and set the papers aside, he sighed and began to speak: — Amelia Armstrong, is it? — he emphasized my last name, as if testing its sound. — To be honest, I assumed you were a Bayer. But now, looking at these documents, I see the whole picture. So, Illona Bayer is your stepmother, and your mother... I didn’t let him finish, immediately cutting him off: — Yes, stepmother. And I have my mother’s last name. If possible, I’d prefer not to discuss this any further. I didn’t expect to say it so sharply, but it came out automatically. Darin Drago, judging by his expression, was slightly surprised by my boldness, but he seemed to decide not to escalate the situation. He turned his gaze to the window and sighed. — Fine, as you wish, Miss Armstrong. But in the future, I advise you to watch how and with whom you speak, if you plan on staying here. His words, spoken with cold indifference, pierced me like an icy needle. Everything inside me clenched, but I mustered the courage to apologize: — I’m sorry, sir, I shouldn’t have spoken that way. — Sir Director, — the teacher began in a raised voice, — this is simply unacceptable! Hiro Fukushima is at it again! He’s just enrolled and has already made a scene! I watched the scene unfold, unsure of who this stern professor was, but his appearance and behavior left no doubt that he was a man of old-fashioned discipline. Darian sighed as if this situation was all too familiar to him. — Professor Graves, — he addressed the teacher with clear irritation, — you know what kind of students we have here. And as you can see, I was busy, — he gestured toward me, and I felt my cheeks flush, embarrassed to be used as an “excuse” again. Professor Graves, a grumpy old man, glared at me, but his irritation was clearly directed at Hiro, who stood beside him, still smirking to himself. — I understand, Director, — Graves continued, trying to control himself, — but how long are we going to allow him to get away with this? He’s just arrived and has already broken several rules! — Graves waved his arms dramatically, making his robe flare around him like an old cloak. — What rules? — Hiro asked lazily, casting a disinterested glance at the professor. — You’re just too hard on me, Professor. Give me some time to settle in. — Time? — Graves exploded. — Give you time, and you’ll destroy the academy! Darian smirked, clearly suppressing a laugh, and raised his hand to stop the argument from escalating. — Professor Graves, I’m sure you’re aware that our students are not exactly ordinary people. And Hiro is no exception. But let’s resolve this later. As you can see, I was in the middle of something important, — he nodded toward me again. — I have matters to attend to. Graves pursed his lips, clearly unhappy that his attempt to discipline Hiro was being interrupted. He shot me another angry look, as if I were somehow responsible for the situation, and then reluctantly addressed the director: — Very well, Director. As you said, we’ll deal with it later, — he replied with obvious reluctance. At that moment, the secretary, Nora, entered the office, frowning at everyone. — How many times have I told you not to burst into the office without knocking! — She glared at Graves and Hiro as if she had every right to reprimand them. — And especially not when I’m not at my desk! — Nora, — Darian interrupted her, — is the room ready? The secretary looked flustered and began explaining: — Yes, but the situation is that… — Excellent, — Darian cut her off. — Let’s let the poor student go, and to punish Hiro Fukushima, we’ll have him escort her to her room. Agreed? Professor Graves opened his mouth to protest, but Darian’s cold gaze silenced him. Hiro, giving me a brief glance, shrugged and smirked, accepting the task with a light grin. Nora, meanwhile, followed us like a shadow as we headed back to her desk in the hallway. Sitting down, she pulled out a folder and began flipping through documents, occasionally casting fleeting glances our way. Finally, she found the right page, pulled out a set of keys from a drawer, and handed them to Hiro. — Here’s your room, — she said dryly, giving a quick glance at the number, — 113. Hearing that, my heart sank. Room 113. Not exactly a lucky number. I sighed quietly, trying not to show my disappointment, but inside, everything seemed to drop. It felt like even the room itself was signaling that nothing good awaited me here. Hiro, noticing my sigh, remarked with a slight mockery: — Does the number bother you? I’m sure you’ll have a great room. — His tone was filled with both irritation and hidden amusement. I felt a wave of frustration rise within me, but I held back, not showing any emotion, simply raising my chin in pride. Silence — sometimes the best weapon. As we were about to leave, Hiro suddenly stopped at the door, looked at me, and, frowning irritably, asked: — Did you forget about your luggage? I froze, realizing that I had indeed forgotten my bag by the secretary’s desk. I blushed slightly, feeling awkward. — Oh, damn… — I muttered under my breath. Hiro rolled his eyes and waved his hand. — Wait here. I’ll grab it. He quickly returned, shaking his head, and headed toward my bag. I stood there, feeling the ground shift beneath me. A minute later, Hiro returned with my bag, giving me a brief glance with a barely noticeable smirk. — A bag? Seriously? You travel light, like you’re only here for a couple of months. His words stung my pride. I felt anger boil inside, but I kept it in check, not letting any emotion show. I just looked at him coldly, my pride intact as always. — Here, — he handed me the bag, — now let’s go. Let’s get this over with. I didn’t dare argue and, taking my bag, followed him, trying not to draw any more attention to myself. As we stepped into the bustling hall, the tension spiked. All eyes were on us — or rather, on Hiro. It seemed like every gaze followed his confident steps. He paid no attention to the onlookers, walking ahead as if this was routine for him. I, on the other hand, wished I could disappear. The attention from all sides burned, and I tried my best to remain invisible. As we walked, a few guys approached us. The first was Kaito — his light hair with dark roots gave him a refined yet slightly rebellious look. His hair was slightly tousled, creating an air of ease and freedom, but it didn’t make him any less put together. Kaito’s face radiated cold confidence, and his lips were slightly parted, as if he was about to throw out a sarcastic comment. His green eyes held a piercing arrogance, as if he could see right through you. His minimalist gray-black outfit emphasized his status and elite background. He looked like the kind of guy who ruled the world, and it was both impressive and envy-inducing. Kaito was the first to speak, squinting slightly: — Brother, are you a tour guide now? He gave me a fleeting, scrutinizing glance, which I managed to hold for only a couple of seconds before looking away. But that was enough — his expression showed that he enjoyed teasing more than engaging in actual conversation. The two guys with him sized me up, as if evaluating every inch of me, like I was on display in a store window. Their gazes were bold, making me feel uncomfortable, as if I was standing in front of them without any clothes on. Hiro, seemingly annoyed, sighed and waved them off. — Kaito, if that’s all you’ve got to say, maybe you should shut up. If it weren’t for your mess, I wouldn’t be here right now. Kaito smirked, a spark of amusement flickering in his eyes. — Professor Graves, — Hiro continued, rolling his eyes, though I noticed his face twitch slightly, as if the mention of the professor’s name brought back unpleasant memories. The guys patted Hiro on the shoulder, and one of them, a tan guy with short chestnut hair, loudly asked, licking his lips: — Hey, sweetheart, what’s your name? The question stirred a wave of disgust in me. I hunched my shoulders, trying to make myself as small as possible. The guy’s gaze was heavy and sticky, and I felt an unpleasant sensation wash over me, as if I was being looked at like an object rather than a person. Hiro abruptly interrupted him, clearly irritated: — Get to class. I’ll join you soon. But Kaito, not backing down, smirked and threw out: — Hiro, maybe I should escort the little one myself? She doesn’t seem to mind. His arrogance and insolence only worsened the situation. The entire exchange was too much for me — too much attention, too much tension. I felt my fingers instinctively tighten around the handle of my bag, and my gaze dropped to the floor. I wanted to disappear, but reality wasn’t giving me that chance. Hiro scowled, irritation flashing in his eyes, and he snapped back: — Think Selina will be happy about that? He instantly turned the moment into a tense standoff. Kaito tensed for a split second at the mention of Selina’s name, though he tried to play it off like it didn’t bother him. — She’s not my girlfriend, actually, — he retorted sharply, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. Hiro just scoffed and, cutting off Kaito’s last attempt, added irritably: — I said, go. See you in the lecture hall. The scene ended as quickly as it started, but it didn’t make me feel any better. I stood nearby, feeling the tension gradually fade, though the presence of those guys made me feel small and vulnerable. Hiro, however, took a measured step forward, gesturing for me to follow. I hurried after him, feeling all the attention shift back to Hiro, while I wanted nothing more than to get to my room as quickly as possible, away from those stares and the intense atmosphere. We walked through the long corridors of the academy, which felt more like a castle, climbed a few staircases, and finally arrived at the door marked 113. That number once again reminded me of my uncertain future and the uneasy feeling that nothing good awaited me here. Ever since my arrival, I hadn’t been able to shake the strange sense of foreboding. Hiro led the way confidently, and to my relief, the corridors were empty — all the students were in class, giving me a break from curious stares. But the thoughts of those guys who had sized me up earlier wouldn’t leave my mind. Were their looks really that judging, or had I imagined it? I was getting lost in my own thoughts, almost forgetting where I was, when Hiro suddenly coughed loudly, snapping me out of it. I flinched and realized I had been staring at the number on the door all this time. He waited until I looked at him, and with a slightly mocking expression, he opened the folder with my documents again. — Amelia Armstrong… so, the curator’s my uncle… I see, — he said, frowning slightly as if thinking something over. His tone and blatant mockery started to get on my nerves. Anger began to heat up inside me, and before I knew what I was doing, I snatched the folder and keys from his hands. Hiro, taken aback for a moment but still with a playful spark in his eyes, stepped back: — Careful there, little one, — he said with a sarcastic grin. — You don’t understand the nature of this academy yet. His words felt like an explosion inside me. Flushing with anger, I snapped back without holding anything in: — I didn’t want to be here! I didn’t come here by choice, but how would someone like you understand that?! I quickly turned to the door, fumbled with the lock, opened it, and slammed it shut before Hiro could say anything else. In that moment, I didn’t care what he thought — I was consumed by rage and hurt. Sliding down the door, I felt tears welling up. Everything that had happened in the last few hours hit me all over again. I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to stifle my sobs. Outside the door, I heard Hiro’s muffled voice: — What a fool... His footsteps faded down the corridor, and the sound of his retreating voice blended with my quiet sobs. I threw the folder aside in frustration and exhaled through my tears: — Damn it... A deep bitterness overwhelmed me. I had no idea what would happen next, but this scene, this place, this cursed academy — everything felt wrong. The tears I had tried so hard to hold back finally broke free. I didn’t know how much time passed or how long I cried, but when I looked out the window, I realized evening had already fallen. Soon, all the students would start returning to their rooms. I slowly took in my new surroundings. The room was modest: a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, a chair — typical student dorm furniture, without any frills. The only saving grace was the private bathroom right in the room. I was relieved that at least this space was my own. Getting up from the floor, I gathered my thoughts and walked over to my bag, throwing it onto the bed carelessly. The folder and keys were lying on the floor nearby, and I gritted my teeth as I picked them up. Reality was harsh. I walked over to the window and looked outside. In the courtyard below, students were running laps around the field, something between a sports practice and military drills. It made me uneasy — it looked more like a training ground than a sports field. “What kind of place is this?” — a troubling thought flashed through my mind. I caught sight of my reflection in the glass. The faint outline of my face, swollen from crying, with dark circles under my eyes, was a reminder of my recent emotions. I slapped my cheeks, trying to shake myself out of it, and took a deep breath. — Well, — I whispered under my breath, — time to survive. Letting my hair down, I ran my fingers through it, loosening the black strands that fell freely over my shoulders, making me smirk slightly. “This is better,” I thought. But I didn’t get a moment to myself. A knock on the door startled me, and I suddenly realized someone was there. Straightening my hair, I walked slowly to the door and opened it. Standing in front of me was a girl. Red shoulder-length hair, large brown eyes behind glasses, and a curvy figure. She looked at me intently, adjusting her glasses, then smiled warmly. — Hi! I’m Samantha, your neighbor from room 114. They told me someone moved into 113, and I thought you might need some help… like finding your way to the dining hall. I nodded, a bit taken aback by her sudden friendliness. — Hi... — I managed to mumble, not knowing what to say. Samantha seemed friendly, but I had no interest in making friends here. I wasn’t planning on staying long anyway, so what was the point? Samantha, sensing my mood, frowned slightly but didn’t stop. — Alright, — she sighed, — I don’t know what’s going on with you, but dinner is in ten minutes, and we need to hurry. So, come on, wash up. Trust me, you’ll understand why you need to. And change into something casual. No need to wear the uniform for dinner. I blinked in confusion. — What? But Samantha just waved her hand as if it was obvious and, surprisingly, walked right into the room like she owned the place. She breezed past me and sat down on the chair, crossing her legs and looking at me over the top of her glasses. — Well, — she said, pointing at my bag and the bathroom door, — you’ve got five minutes. Move it! Baffled by her determination, I reluctantly went over to the bed, pulled out a change of clothes — black jeans and a hoodie — and headed to the bathroom. The bathroom was small but functional. The walls were lined with white tiles, and the floor was gray, giving the space a cold, sterile feel. In the corner was a small shower, with a sink and mirror next to it. It was minimalist, without unnecessary details, but at least it was clean and neat. I immediately felt like staying in here for a while, in the quiet, away from all the chaos. As I washed my face, trying to freshen up, Samantha continued talking from the other side of the door as if it didn’t matter whether I could hear her or not: — So, you’re new here, huh? The school year’s already started, so you’ll need to catch up quickly. There are rules here. By the way, there’s a welcome speech tomorrow — a bit late this year, but you’ll still have time to settle in. Oh, and by the way, what clan are you from? I froze while washing up, pausing to think. Clan? What was she even talking about? After quickly freshening up and changing, I stepped out of the bathroom, still mulling over her words. — Clan? — I asked, looking at her in surprise. Samantha seemed speechless for a few seconds, then let out a loud “whoa!” and shook her head, looking at me with genuine surprise. — Girl, you’re gorgeous, swollen eyes aside, but... you’re not in a clan? — She looked me up and down, clearly stunned that she had encountered a “non-clan” student. — It’s gonna be tough for you here, Amelia. I tensed. She knew my name, but I didn’t give it much thought. It was the last thing on my mind at the moment. My thoughts were preoccupied with her strange comment about “clans.” More questions began to swirl in my head. — Anyway, if you’re ready, let’s get moving. We’re already five minutes late, and the dining hall fills up fast. It’s about a seven-minute walk, no more, — she got up from the chair and headed to the door, signaling that there was no time to waste. I nodded, feeling the weight of the day’s events still heavy inside, but I followed her nonetheless. Perhaps the day had been awful, but it seemed I had found someone reasonable. Fate had apparently decided to give me a chance — even if it came in the form of Samantha, my unexpected but possibly only ally. Entering the dining hall, I was immediately enveloped by the smell of fresh food, and the hunger I hadn’t felt due to all the day’s events suddenly hit me hard. Samantha didn’t say a word on the way there, and I was grateful for that — the silence felt like a relief. However, walking into the dining hall was another challenge. As soon as we stepped inside, all eyes turned toward us. It was so unexpected and uncomfortable that I felt nausea rising in my throat. It seemed as though everyone in the large room was staring right at me, like I was on display, and they all wanted to claim me as their prize. My legs turned to jelly, and I instinctively slowed my pace. Samantha, clearly sensing my discomfort, said nothing but firmly grabbed my arm and led me to where the students were picking up food. Her grip was the only thing keeping me from running out of the dining hall. — Sweetheart, relax, — Samantha said firmly, noticing my panicked expression. — No one cares about us, and even if they do, hold your head up high and walk with pride. Her words didn’t help. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention. All those unfamiliar eyes — they stared, scrutinized, evaluated. I wanted to disappear, but Samantha’s iron grip held me steady. Softening her voice, she added: — Amelia, hey, breathe. You’re about to faint. It was true — I had momentarily forgotten how to breathe. Taking a deep breath in and out, I looked at Samantha and even tried to smile. But my smile disappeared instantly when I noticed my stepsister, Eva, sitting at one of the tables. She was dressed casually: a skirt and a low-cut top that put her ample chest on display. At her table sat several other girls, who had clearly just whispered something to her. Eva, catching sight of me, threw a disdainful look my way — a look I knew all too well. She laughed, and that laugh sounded like a warning. Nothing good was going to come from her. Samantha, sensing my tense gaze, quickly assessed the situation, released my arm, and shoved a tray into my hands, forcing me to focus back on the food. — The cinnamon rolls here are amazing. If you’re not on a diet, you should definitely try one. I took my tray and, trying to distract myself from Eva, began choosing my food. Hunger had taken over, pushing thoughts of my sister and her mocking to the background. I picked up a coffee, a vegetable salad, a light stew, and, of course, a cinnamon roll as Samantha had recommended. She, on the other hand, piled up a ton of food, cheerfully heading toward a table far from where my sister sat. When we sat down, I finally took a deep breath and was just about to start on my salad when a painfully familiar figure approached our table — Kaito. He looked as flawless as ever: a stylish hoodie and perfectly fitting jeans. His light hair with dark roots was slightly tousled, giving him a look of refined carelessness. After giving me an appraising glance, he turned to Samantha but quickly shifted his attention back to me. In a smooth voice, he said: — Ladies… Or rather, little miss. May I ask your name? My eyes widened in surprise, like the cat from "Shrek." I hadn’t seen this coming. I glanced at Samantha, who froze in place, blushing, and then coughed, signaling that I should respond. Pulling myself together, I abruptly looked at Kaito and, without thinking, blurted out: — None of your business. Kaito clearly wasn’t expecting that reaction and laughed — his laughter immediately drew the attention of most of the students in the dining hall. It felt like everyone was ready to grab popcorn and watch this little spectacle unfold. — I’ve been turned down by girls before, — Kaito said, smiling at me, — but never quite like that. Amusing. Well then, “No One,” — he added, drawing out the words in a melodic tone that made my cheeks flush with embarrassment. — There are a lot of curious eyes on us right now, but I will get your name, miss. Now, if you’ll excuse me. He gave a slight bow with the same cocky smirk, turned, and headed back to his table where his friends were waiting, including Hiro. My fork almost slipped out of my hand — I hadn’t expected this at all. Samantha, noticing my reaction, waved a hand in front of my face, bringing me back to reality. — How do you know Kaito Fukushima? He’s a legend in our class! — Samantha said excitedly, her cheeks flushed. — He’s elite! I set my fork down and gave her a tired look. — Who? — I asked indifferently, still not understanding who she was talking about. Her laughter was loud and genuine. — Amelia, he’s a legend! Girls here dream of him just glancing their way, and in a matter of seconds, you’ve earned the hatred of the entire female population of the academy! — She waved her hand as if explaining the obvious. I rolled my eyes and picked my fork back up, deciding to focus on my food. — Samantha, I don’t care about Kaito or his “elite.” Let’s just eat, — I said indifferently and started digging into my dinner. But Samantha couldn’t calm down. — No, Amelia, you’re a mystery. You’ve caught the attention of a clan heir just by showing up. That’s something! Chewing my salad, I muttered: — You keep talking about these clans… What are clans anyway? — I looked at her, confused. Samantha laughed again, as if I were the most naïve girl at the academy. — I forgot you’re not from a clan. But don’t worry, you’ll figure it out in the lectures. They’ll explain everything. You’re rare, though. A non-clan student here is almost unheard of, but there have been cases. Her words sounded casual, but inside, my anxiety grew. The more I heard about these clans, heirs, and elites, the more questions I had. Where am I? What is this place? Why did my father send me here? And why did they choose me? Samantha didn’t elaborate any further, quietly finishing her dinner. I sipped my coffee and glanced over at Kaito’s table again. Hiro and the other guys were sitting with him, including the ones who had been in the hallway earlier. Realizing I’d been staring for too long, I tried to look away, but Kaito noticed me, waved, and smirked. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt like everything I’d just eaten might come back up. Instead of responding, I gulped down my coffee, not realizing it was still hot. I nearly choked, and my coughing drew even more attention. Kaito, seeing this, laughed, while Hiro frowned, following Kaito’s gaze. Samantha quickly patted my back: — What are you doing, Amelia? Who chugs hot coffee like that? You trying to kill yourself? — her words were a mix of scolding and concern. — Thanks, — I croaked, taking a more cautious sip and lowering my gaze, trying not to look in their direction again. When we finished dinner, Samantha unexpectedly took both trays and, without a word, carried them to the stand. I followed her, feeling a bit awkward — she clearly wasn’t planning to leave me without help. As we left the dining hall, I felt an overwhelming need to be alone, to process everything that had happened that day. — Where can I go outside? I really need some air, — I asked, feeling like I was suffocating and needed space to think. Samantha offered to come with me, but I quickly waved her off: — Thanks, but I’d like to be alone. She just shrugged but didn’t push. However, before I could leave, she asked: — Do you know how to get back to your room? I hesitated. The academy was huge, and after all the winding corridors, I could easily get lost. Samantha smiled and carefully explained how to get outside and back to the dorm, outlining the route as if she had a map in her head. — And don’t forget, — she added, — curfew is at 10 PM. You have to be in your room by then. If you get caught outside, you’ll be in trouble. Better not risk it. I nodded, thanked her for the help, and headed toward the exit. Luckily, I had my phone and headphones with me. All I needed now was some quiet and fresh air. As I stepped out of the academy building, the cool evening air wrapped around me. The academy, as always, looked majestic. The tall, ancient walls covered in ivy stretched upward, as if touching the sky. Stone towers loomed above, reminding me that this place felt more like a castle than a school. Around me were well-kept lawns and old trees whose branches swayed in the wind, creating a soft rustling sound. In the distance, I could see dark, towering mountains, standing like silent sentinels guarding the academy. Near the building, there was a small fountain, with water gently trickling down, adding to the soothing, peaceful atmosphere. I found a bench under one of the old oaks, standing away from the main path, and slowly sat down, exhaling with relief. I finally had some time to think. The whole day felt like one long, never-ending nightmare. There wasn’t a single moment to catch my breath, and it was starting to irritate me. The silence around me felt so unusual that, for a moment, I felt lonely. No one was around, as if the whole world had frozen, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I pulled out my phone and put one earbud in. The time read 8:30 PM. That meant I had about an hour to finally relax and try to figure myself out. Scrolling through my playlist, I stopped at the song "Night of the 31st" by Svyat and pressed play. The familiar chords filled my ears, and I felt the tension slowly start to fade. The wind gently brushed my face, pleasantly cooling my skin. It played with my hair, almost as if teasing, while the music drowned out all my worries and doubts, at least for a short while. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. Everything seemed so peaceful, even soothing, giving me a temporary sense of security. But inside, there was still a heavy feeling — about this academy, the people, and the unknown future ahead. The day had been tough, and even in this quiet moment, I couldn’t shake the thought: “What comes next?” As I sat on the bench, reflecting on everything that had happened, questions kept spinning in my mind. Why me? Why did my father decide to send me here, to this strange place with rules I didn’t know? Clans, heirs — it all felt like something from another world, and I couldn’t figure out how I fit into it. But at least here, under this tree, I could feel for a moment that things weren’t so bad. The music, the wind, the evening chill — it all created the illusion of calm. And in that moment, I decided to just be present, not to think about what would happen next. The music on repeat shifted to another song, but instead of calming me, I suddenly realized that if I kept listening to melancholic tunes, I’d sink into depression. The sadness was slowly creeping into my thoughts, pulling me deeper. “No, I can’t let this happen,” I thought. I needed something to lift my spirits, to shake me up and make me feel alive again. I unlocked my phone, scrolled through my playlist, and found the perfect song for my current state — “Mermaid’s Curse” by Green Apelsin. It was the kind of song that could pull me out of the pit of dark thoughts. Before hitting play, I took out the other earbud and put it in. As soon as the first chords played, I felt something inside me come to life, as if the song was filling me with new strength. The melody took over, pushing away all the worries and fears. I set my headphone case and phone down on the bench next to me. My voice softly began to follow the music, starting quietly, cautiously, as if I wasn’t sure if I could sing here, in this strange place. But slowly, the song enveloped me completely. A velvet voice escaped my lips, and I began singing along, forgetting everything around me. Every word, every note felt like home, like I was in my safe world. Here, under this tree, it seemed I could be myself — just singing, enjoying every note. The academy, the chaotic day, all the unfamiliar faces and judgmental looks, all of it disappeared in the shadow of the song. For a moment, I felt free. The music fully consumed me, pushing out everything unnecessary. I savored each moment, every wave of sound, as if it was my only way to release the tension that had built up throughout the day. My voice sounded free, confident, as if I wasn’t singing for anyone but myself. — It’s late, my dear, but don’t be afraid… — I sang in time with the song. — Surrender to the sea devil... Each word was full of strength and defiance, as if I wasn’t just singing lyrics but expressing my protest against the day, against everyone who had looked down on me. I sang because it was my way of letting go of all the anger and tension. I sang as if the song could erase all my fears and doubts, as if the music shielded me from the rest of the world. The wind played with my hair, tossing it around as if invisible fingers were weaving through it, matching the rhythm of the music. I closed my eyes, feeling how the sounds and the evening chill blended together. Everything around me seemed to freeze, leaving only the music and my breathing. In that moment, I was truly myself. Here, under this tree, I could be anyone I wanted to be. And no one could take that from me. The song’s words grew louder and more confident. They burst from me as if I had held them inside for too long, and now they were finally finding their way out. — The body sinks, give it time, I am your nightmare, the sea’s demon... The song seemed to reflect my own emotions. I felt its power and freedom, the kind I had been missing all day. I sang as if my life depended on it. Every verse held a challenge, as if I were throwing it at the day, at this place, at everything that had happened. For a brief moment, I felt truly free. The music continued to play, filling the air and my entire being. I lost myself in the rhythm as the world around me slowly faded away, leaving only the wind, the song, and my voice. When the music finally faded, I exhaled heavily, like I had just taken a deep breath of fresh air — exactly what I needed. The last chords still echoed in my head, but my soul craved something more, something forgotten. And suddenly, it hit me — the song from my dream, the one that played when I stood on the cliff. How could I have forgotten it? I grabbed my phone and frantically scrolled through my playlist, typing in the lyrics, trying to find it. But it wasn’t there, as if it only existed in my mind. Frustrated, I tossed the phone aside and looked up at the sky, starting to hum the melody I still remembered. The words, full of bitterness and sorrow, flowed naturally. Each note made my heart beat faster, and my voice rose higher, as if the very air was giving me strength. ("The song Amelia hums is ‘Starry Love’ (星汉灿烂) — a Chinese song full of longing and sorrow, telling a story of war, life, and love.) — The fire of war scatters frost... You stand with your back to the light... The words flowed smoothly, their rhythm and melody washing over me like waves, as if the song was coming straight from my heart. I sang, forgetting everything around me, completely absorbed in the music. The song mirrored all the pain and sorrow that had been building up inside me. It seemed to be my only connection to that strange dream, to that moment on the cliff. The melody filled the space around me as if it were a part of me. But as soon as the last notes faded into the air, I opened my eyes and felt reality catch up with me again. In front of me stood a guy, dressed in a black cloak, his hood obscuring most of his face, but his gray-blue eyes shone brightly in the darkness, piercing me like a blade. He looked grim, clearly irritated, and I froze in place, too stunned to even make a sound. His face was partially covered by a mask, but I could feel the tension radiating from him. — How do you know that song? — his voice was low, sharp, and full of restrained anger. I opened my mouth to respond, but my voice caught in my throat. The guy stepped closer, his eyes burning even brighter. — I’m asking, how do you know it? — he repeated, grabbing my arm and yanking me toward him. I cried out in pain, trying to pull away. — Let go! It hurts! But he only tightened his grip, his face cold and merciless. — You don’t understand... How the hell do you know it? I tried to break free again, but he wouldn’t let go. His iron grip held me so tightly that it felt like my arm was about to snap. — I heard it! I just heard it and repeated it! — I shouted angrily, still struggling to escape. — Satisfied?! He suddenly released me, but his eyes stayed locked on mine. The anger in them was almost tangible, like a darkness that surrounded his figure. — Heard it? From whom? That’s an ancient dragon song. Do you take me for a fool? — What? Dragons? Are you even listening to yourself? — I was in shock from his words, completely confused about what was happening. His gaze grew even colder, his face as if frozen in stone. — You’re coming with me. You’re going to tell me where you heard that song. There was a threat in his voice that made my blood boil inside. — Are you out of your mind? I’m not going anywhere with you! — I blurted out, feeling a surge of rage rising within me. My body was overtaken by a strange, unfamiliar sensation, as if something inside me was awakening. I shoved him sharply, and to my surprise, the guy stumbled back, momentarily losing his composure. That was all I needed to bolt. Panicking, I sprinted toward the academy building, not looking back, just desperate to get away from this crazy stranger. Reaching my room, I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, breathing heavily. My heart was pounding wildly, and my thoughts were a tangled mess, impossible to unravel. “What is going on here? Clans? Dragons? Is this some kind of insane show? When am I finally going to wake up?” — the unanswered questions buzzed in my head, making my headache worse. Inside, everything clenched with fear and confusion. It felt like I was sinking into a dark abyss where reality and fantasy blurred into something incomprehensible. Quickly stripping off my clothes, I changed, threw my bag on the floor, and collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The cold sheets seemed like the only real thing in this insane day. Hugging the pillow, I closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would bring me peace and that morning would bring answers. “Let all of this just be a nightmare. Just a dream I can wake up from...” — I whispered to myself, as if that could make my hopes come true. But deep down, I knew: nothing would be the same. This place, these people, they all held something far greater than I could understand. And that only made it scarier. My eyelids grew heavier, and finally, I drifted into sleep, leaving this restless day behind. But deep within, a growing sense of foreboding whispered to me that tomorrow, everything was only just beginning...