When Ms. Sinclair finally entered the classroom, a hush fell over the room. The air shifted, the usual murmurs of students dying down as she stepped inside with a presence that was impossible to ignore. There was something in the way she carried herself today—a quiet authority, a sharp intensity—that made even the most inattentive students straighten up in their seats.
Her usual composed demeanor hadn't changed, but there was a certain weight in her expression, a glint in her eyes that suggested whatever she was about to say wouldn't be something we could afford to brush off.
And then, there was that—the way her pristine uniform fit her just right, the dark academic aesthetic that somehow made her seem even more intimidating and… unfairly attractive.
Her round glasses, balanced delicately at the tip of her nose, only added to the effect. It gave her an almost effortless elegance, a sharp contrast between scholar and enforcer, intelligence and discipline. The kind of look that made you want to listen—to really listen—just in case she caught you slacking and fixed you with that piercing stare over the rim of her glasses.
I heard Camille exhale next to me, barely above a whisper.
"…Is it just me, or is she even more attractive today?"
I elbowed her sharply, heat creeping up my face. "Shut up!"
Camille simply grinned, but before she could push her luck, Ms. Sinclair's voice cut through the room, even and authoritative.
"Settle down. Today's lesson will be different from what you're used to. There are urgent matters that take precedence, and as such, your training will be adjusted accordingly."
A ripple of curiosity and unease passed through the students. Adjusted? Urgent matters? I exchanged a glance with Camille.
Yeah. Something was definitely not normal about today.
Ms. Sinclair's gaze swept across the room, assessing each of us with a quiet intensity before she continued.
"As I'm sure you're all aware, security around the academy has increased. The recent events at the North Gate have raised concerns that cannot be ignored. From now on, your training will no longer be limited to structured classroom exercises. You will be preparing for real combat scenarios."
A murmur rippled through the students. Some looked nervous. Others, intrigued. And then there were the few who were way too excited—people like Claire, who practically leaned forward in her seat, eyes gleaming with the anticipation of a challenge.
I, however, felt my stomach sink.
"Combat scenarios?" Camille murmured beside me, voice low. "They're really escalating things this much already?"
I swallowed, gripping my hands together beneath my desk. It wasn't surprising—not after everything we'd been hearing about the increasing monster activity—but it still felt like a shift we weren't entirely prepared for.
Ms. Sinclair continued, unfazed by the tension settling in the room. "Your coursework will be divided into two primary areas: defensive strategy and offensive engagement. You will be expected to train outside of regular class hours. This is no longer just about refining technique—it's about survival. Consider this your first and only warning: If you're not willing to take this seriously, you should walk out now."
A heavy silence followed. No one moved.
Of course, they didn't.
Leaving now would be an admission of weakness, a surrender before the battle had even begun.
Ms. Sinclair nodded slightly, as if she had expected nothing less. "Very well. We'll begin with an assessment. I need to see exactly where each of you stand."
I felt Camille shift beside me. "This is gonna be rough, huh?"
"You think?" I muttered back.
And as Ms. Sinclair's sharp eyes settled on me—on me, specifically—I suddenly had the distinct feeling that I was about to be thrown straight into the fire.
"Vandren," Ms. Sinclair called out, her piercing gaze locking onto mine. "You're first."
Of course I was.
I exhaled slowly, rising from my seat as a wave of quiet murmurs filled the classroom. Stepping into the center, I could already feel the weight of everyone's stares—some curious, some expectant, and others, amused. Camille shot me an encouraging grin, while Claire gave me an exaggerated thumbs-up, which wasn't exactly reassuring.
Ms. Sinclair adjusted her glasses and gestured to the open space before her. "We'll start simple. Show me what you're capable of. No restrictions."
I paused for a second. No restrictions? That meant she wanted me to go all out, not just my basic spells, not just the trained techniques, but everything I had.
Even… even that?
I clenched my fists. The memories of Sera Vandren's magic were still fresh in my mind, but I had barely tested them. There was a risk—if I overextended, if I pushed too far, I could—
Ms. Sinclair raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "Vandren, are you hesitating?"
I snapped back to reality, ignoring the tight knot forming in my chest. "No."
"Then show me."
I inhaled, centering myself. If she wanted to see what I could do, then fine.
I raised my hand, and the temperature in the room shifted.
A sharp gust of wind swept through, sending a chill crawling down my spine as frost curled at my fingertips. I summoned the ice first, shaping it into delicate shards that hovered in the air around me, twinkling like frozen stars.
Then, with a flick of my wrist, fire ignited in my other palm, the flames licking hungrily at the cold air, casting long shadows along the walls.
The duality of the elements danced at my fingertips—two forces that should have been incompatible, yet coexisted within me.
I could feel it, deep in my bones—this wasn't just my power.
This was hers.
I caught a flicker of movement from Ms. Sinclair—her sharp eyes watching my every move, assessing, calculating. And I knew.
She knew.
"Good," she murmured, stepping forward. "But how well can you control it?"
Without warning, she flicked her wrist—and a sudden burst of wind slammed into me.
I barely had time to react, throwing up a barrier of ice to absorb the impact. The gust shattered against the frozen wall, sending shards scattering across the floor.
Ms. Sinclair smirked.
I didn't have time to breathe before she attacked again.
This time, fire.
I twisted my body, instinct kicking in as I dodged, countering with a sharp wave of flame that spiraled toward her. She deflected it with ease, her own magic swallowing mine like it was nothing.
I gritted my teeth. She was testing me, pushing me to see how far I could go. How well I could balance the elements I wielded.
Fine.
If that was what she wanted—then I'd give her a fight.
I lunged forward, ice forming at my feet, giving me momentum as I closed the distance between us. At the last second, I shifted my stance, twisting mid-air as I unleashed a sharp arc of flame straight at her.
She dodged effortlessly.
But I wasn't done.
I followed up with a precise Frostbeam, forcing her to finally react, summoning a shield of wind to disperse the attack.
Our gazes locked.
She smiled.
Then suddenly—her magic disappeared.
No more attacks. No more counters.
She lowered her hands, tilting her head slightly. "That's enough."
I skidded to a stop, breathing hard, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. My body was alive with magic, still humming with the energy I had unleashed.
For a long moment, she just studied me.
Then she nodded. "Your control has improved."
A breath of relief escaped me, though I tried not to show it.
"But," she continued, eyes narrowing slightly, "you're still holding back."
I stiffened.
The murmurs around the classroom grew louder, but I barely heard them over the ringing in my ears.
Holding back?
Was I?
Ms. Sinclair pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Class dismissed. We'll continue evaluations tomorrow."
The classroom buzzed with quiet murmurs as students gathered their things, but I remained seated, still gripping my notebook as I replayed the battle in my mind. Holding back? Had I really been? It didn't feel like I was—if anything, I'd pushed myself harder than I had in a long time. But something about the way Evelyn—Ms. Sinclair—had said it made me question everything.
I sighed, rubbing my temple before I resumed packing my things. Most of the students had already left by now, their excitement about the evaluations carrying them out the door in a wave of chatter.
And then, just as I slung my bag over my shoulder, I felt a presence behind me.
"Sera."
I turned instinctively, already recognizing the voice. My breath hitched slightly when I found Evelyn Sinclair standing close, her piercing gaze watching me with an unreadable expression.
"Ms. Sinclair," I greeted automatically, though my voice came out a little more hesitant than I intended.
She tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I told you to call me Evelyn when it's just us two."
I felt my face warm as I glanced away. "Evelyn."
She chuckled softly, the sound warm and slightly amused. "How cute." Her voice lowered just slightly, like she was savoring the way my name rolled off her tongue. "You've improved a lot, truly. It seems some of the things I taught you before weren't wasted after all."
I nodded, gripping the strap of my bag a little tighter. "Well… I couldn't really forget that, you know."
Her gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, then she took a step closer, her tone shifting—softer now, almost contemplative. "You're still doubting yourself."
I opened my mouth to protest but hesitated. Was I? I thought I had come far. I thought I had finally started to own my place in this world. But Evelyn had always been perceptive. And maybe… maybe she saw something I wasn't ready to admit.
She reached out, her fingers just barely brushing my wrist before retreating, as if debating whether to close the distance or not. "You have power, Sera. You know that. But strength isn't just about wielding magic. It's about understanding yourself. Trusting yourself." Her blue eyes softened just a fraction. "Are you ready to do that?"
My breath caught in my throat. There was something about the way she spoke—so confident, so unwavering—that made me want to believe her. That made me wonder if I really was the only thing holding myself back.
"I—" I stopped myself, unsure of how to answer. My grip tightened, my mind racing through the implications of her words.
Evelyn's smile was knowing, as if she expected that response. "You don't have to answer now. Just think about it." She turned slightly, but before she walked away, she paused, glancing back at me. "And, Sera?"
"…Yeah?"
Her lips curled into something unreadable. "Next time, don't hesitate."
With that, she walked away, her figure disappearing through the doorway, leaving me staring after her—heart pounding, mind spinning, and a strange, restless energy settling in my chest.
Don't hesitate, huh?
Easier said than done.