"It’s beautiful, isn’t it?"

  Arlen glanced at Elira, who was sitting next to him. Slowly, hesitantly, he put his hand on hers, their fingers intertwining.

  "...It is."

  Elira smiled, her face blushing slightly. From afar, the sun rose slowly, casting warm light on the flowers, the trees, and the two of them. The autumn leaves flew slowly with the wind.

  "What do you want to do after you graduate?" Elira asked, leaning on Arlen’s shoulder.

  "Me? Continue researching magic, probably. What about you?"

  "Then can I be your assistant?"

  Arlen chuckled. "Sure, but you need to study a lot, though."

  "You think I can’t? Do you think I’m stupid?" Elira pouted.

  "Pfft. Who just begged me to do their homework yesterday?"

  "Fine... Then I will be your bodyguard. If anyone dares to steal your work or bully you, I’ll kick their ass."

  Inside the classroom, the teacher kept droning on about mana theory.

  Elira understood some parts here and there, but her mind kept wandering, catching stray thoughts one after another.

  She lay on the desk, head resting on her arms. Elira stared sideways at Arlen. He was taking notes with all seriousness, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. The sunlight hit his glasses, making them sparkle.

  He looked peaceful.

  Elira smiled. For some reason, Marcelline had the decency not to bother them today. No glares. No paper balls thrown at their heads. Just silence.

  It felt like a normal life.

  I wish this would last forever.

  Elira closed her eyes, enjoying the warm sunlight washing over her.

  The bell rang.

  Class ended. The students packed their bags, chatting as they walked toward the door.

  A hand nudged Elira’s shoulder gently. She lifted her head, her eyes blinking slowly.

  "Hmm?"

  "Wake up, sleepyhead... The class already ended."

  Arlen smiled back at her, their bags already packed.

  "Mmmkay..."

  Elira stood up, stretching her back and yawning. "Where are we going?"

  "To the library, of course. I found this really interesting book."

  Elira picked up her bag. Together, they walked toward the door.

  But the door was blocked.

  "Not so fast, you two."

  Marcelline stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Rovan stood behind her, grinning like a hungry wolf. Three other lackeys flanked them, closing the exit.

  The other students, sensing trouble, hurried out of the room, keeping their heads down. Within seconds, the classroom was empty.

  Elira sighed. She wasn't scared. Not anymore.

  "What now, Princess?" Elira stepped forward, shielding Arlen. "Do you want the whole academy to watch your ass get kicked again? I can book the arena if you want."

  She expected Marcelline to scream. To rage. But she didn't.

  She smiled.

  "You really think you are special, don't you?" Marcelline reached into her bag. "You think because you learned a few tricks from this cripple, you are on my level?"

  She pulled out a black, jagged sphere. It pulsed with a sickening, purple light.

  Arlen’s face went pale.

  "Elira! Run!"

  Marcelline dropped the ball.

  Thud.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  A silent shockwave rippled through the room.

  Elira felt it immediately. The connection to mana... was gone. It felt like being submerged in water, her lungs suddenly empty.

  Elira gritted her teeth. She raised her hand, trying to summon the white shield.

  Nothing happened.

  "What? Can't use your little tricks now, can you?"

  Marcelline's mockery echoed in Elira's heart, and worry flooded over her.

  "Get them," Marcelline ordered.

  The lackeys rushed in.

  "Stay back!"

  Arlen threw his bag at Rovan and charged. He ran past Elira before she could react. He tried to throw a punch, desperate to buy Elira time.

  But he was a scholar. Rovan was a fighter.

  Crack.

  Rovan caught Arlen's fist and twisted. Arlen screamed as he was kicked in the stomach. He folded like a piece of paper, crashing to the floor.

  "Arlen!"

  Elira tried to reach him, but two lackeys grabbed her arms. She struggled, kicking them, trying to get out of their grasp but to no avail. Without magic, she was just a normal, helpless girl.

  "You think you’re some good shit? You think I’ll let you get away with what you done?!"

  Rovan stomped on Arlen's back, pinning him to the ground. Arlen wheezed, blood and saliva trickling from his mouth.

  "Pathetic," Marcelline sneered, walking up to Elira. She grabbed Elira’s chin, forcing her to look up. "Look at you. Helpless without your magic. Just a peasant. Just a rat."

  "Go to hell," Elira spat.

  Marcelline wiped the spit from her cheek. Her eyes darkened.

  "...You need to be reminded of your place."

  How long has it been...

  A heavy blow struck Arlen. He groaned in pain.

  Another blow. Arlen fell onto the floor. His body curled into a ball, twitching and shivering. But Rovan didn’t stop. He grabbed Arlen's hair, picking him up. There were no teachers here, no one to stop him if he went overboard.

  Rovan struck him again. And again.

  Elira could hear the crack of his bone. She saw him vomit blood. Tears ran down her eyes, but Elira could do nothing. She was pinned to a chair, forced to watch everything.

  "Have you learnt your lesson, peasant? Don’t worry, you will be next soon."

  "..."

  Elira knew she should stay silent. She knew retaliating right now would only bring more trouble. But she couldn't help it. The rage boiled inside her.

  Why? Why would this happen to her? Marcelline was the one who started it. Is it wrong to want to live a normal life?

  "FUCK. YOU."

  The words flew through Elira's gritted teeth, her eyes glaring at Marcelline.

  "..."

  Marcelline smiled back at her.

  "Rovan."

  "Yes, Princess?"

  "Strip her."

  Oh, no.

  Elira’s blood ran cold.

  "Make sure everyone sees what a dirty, scarred rat looks like underneath that uniform."

  "With pleasure."

  Rovan stepped off Arlen’s bruised, broken body. He walked toward Elira. Rovan paused, looking down. Arlen was biting his shoe, his eyes glaring with hate and rage.

  "Pfft." Rovan kicked Arlen's head. His body thrashed away like a broken doll.

  "What a lovely couple. Let’s make him watch," Marcelline chuckled, signaling her lackeys.

  Rovan continued, his hands reaching out.

  "No... No!" Elira struggled, kicking and thrashing. But the grip held her tight.

  Don't touch me.

  Rovan grabbed the collar of her uniform.

  Riiiip.

  The sound of tearing fabric echoed in the silence. Cold air hit her skin.

  "Stop!!" Elira screamed, tears blurring her vision.

  The classroom began to blur.

  "See?" Marcelline whispered, leaning into Elira's ear. "You are nothing. You have no hope. You have no future."

  No.

  The image of the past started to blend with the present.

  The face in front of her wasn't Rovan anymore. It was a soldier with a scarred lip. He was laughing. The smell of the classroom was gone, replaced by the stench of smoke, sweat, and copper.

  No.

  She was back in the village.

  She could feel the hands on her body.

  No.

  She could hear the screams of her neighbors. She could see the soldiers defecting from the front lines, turning into animals. They were raiding. Burning. Taking what they wanted.

  Just like Rovan was doing now.

  Don't touch me.

  Elira remembered the pain, the tears. And she remembered what happened next.

  I killed them all.

  The soldiers, her family, her friends.

  Something inside Elira snapped.

  The hope she had built... the tea with the therapist, the study sessions with Arlen, the dreams... it all shattered.

  She wasn't a student. She wasn't Arlen's friend.

  She was the catastrophe that destroyed her home.

  Kill.

  Kill them all.

  The sphere on the floor began to vibrate. Cracks appeared on its surface.

  "What..." Marcelline stepped back, her smile faltering. "What is that noise?"

  It sounded like wet meat slapping against stone.

  Squelch.

  Slither.

  Elira stopped screaming. Her head hung low, her hair covering her face.

  "Elira?" Rovan hesitated, his hand still gripping her torn shirt.

  Then, he looked at the walls.

  "Princess... look at the walls."

  Marcelline turned.

  Eyes.

  Thousands of eyes were on the classroom walls. On the ceiling.

  Red, bloodshot eyes, all staring at them.

  The air turned thick, smelling of iron and rot.

  The sphere shattered into dust.

  Elira slowly lifted her head.

  Her eyes were gone. In their place were two voids of swirling, endless black.

  Silence devoured the room.