I walked through the corridors of Armarillis, running my hand along the wall with pleasure, as if greeting the castle. And, by the way, feeling a slight vibration in response, as if the walls were happy to see me too.

  It sounds strange, but the academy building is saturated through and through with particularly dense magic, and I think it’s not for nothing that people say the castle has some kind of living spirit. I wouldn’t be surprised.

  Armarillis was a special closed academy that was impossible to enter just like that. You couldn’t get in through connections, through bribes, and so on. And even outstanding magical abilities wouldn’t help you get into this academy, because only Fortemins could study at Armarillis.

  Fortemins are soldiers of balance, standing on the edge between light and darkness and maintaining the equilibrium of worlds in the Universe.

  Tough, sometimes cruel warriors. Neither bad nor evil — forced to be what they are.

  Let’s put it this way… it’s a special race of superhumans, wizards endowed with certain magical qualities. We are a thousand times more resilient than any ordinary supreme mage. We learn quickly, we’ve been trained since childhood to handle dozens of types of weapons and know how to destroy demons.

  We live very long lives, and in dire need can go weeks without food or water. We are also first-class fighters against dark creatures. No one was better than us in battles against any dark creature.

  A single Fortemin could easily replace several dozen powerful mages in magical combat.

  This, in fact, was the main purpose of the academy — to raise an entire army that would protect worlds from dark creatures, from dark magic.

  Darkness, unfortunately, is greedy; it tends to parasitize and spread at colossal speed.

  And human stupidity of powerful mages also tends to parasitize, and it’s unclear which is scarier. Because mindless dark creatures are simple enough to find, knock out, and destroy if you know certain methods, spells, and can masterfully handle cold weapons. But when powerful mages lose their minds and start doing all kinds of crazy things…

  Those can make entire worlds tremble, and virtuosic techniques alone won’t be enough.

  And the worst is when human stupidity joins forces with fearless dark creatures. In Armarillis’s practice, such cases have been the most common over the past couple of centuries.

  We were still very far from a full-fledged army: so far there were barely about five hundred Fortemins in the world, and that included all children and infants. But then again, each such mage was worth their weight in gold.

  And every Fortemin has their own special gift — some completely unique ability that no one else in the entire Universe possesses. Some special magical ability given only to them. And I had big, very big problems with this gift…

  Because with my gift, with just one touch, I could either heal a dying person with a fading magical Spark, or just as easily extinguish anyone’s Spark, thereby killing them.

  The only problem was that I couldn’t control it yet — the outcome of any potential ‘healing touch’ was a complete lottery.

  Once in my childhood, I accidentally healed a dying mage who had been attacked by dark creatures. His magical Spark was fading before our eyes, healers threw up their hands, necromancers were also powerless… And just one touch from me, without any spells even, reignited the Spark in mere seconds, fully restoring the mage’s ability to function as if he hadn’t just been at death’s door.

  Oh, how much happiness I felt then!! It overflowed within me, I thought I had found my calling and would bring light to people, help them, when I grew up I would become a truly first-class healer, the likes of which the world had never seen!

  Well, what can I say… The world indeed had never seen such “first-class healers,” because the more my magic developed, the more dangerous my touch became.

  It didn’t always produce positive results — sometimes my touch was deadly. And while some people were simply knocked out or experienced nausea and dizziness, others had their magical Spark extinguished right before their eyes.

  I will probably remember for the rest of my life the horror that gripped me when such a “glitch” happened for the first time.

  When I simply hugged my friend after classes at the academy, and she just went limp in my arms within seconds. I didn’t understand what was happening, I shook my lifeless friend by the shoulders, cried, and looked at the Mentor’s face, white as chalk, hoping he could help, that he would figure something out…

  Unfortunately, the Mentor wasn’t all-powerful and had encountered such a manifestation of aggressive dark magic for the first time.

  I was still a child, devoutly believing in my wonderful magical gift and not knowing what awaited me ahead, so my hysteria was monumental… And no amount of reassurance from the Mentor and my parents trying to calm me down could free me from the feeling of guilt.

  No logic in all of this had been found yet, hence there was no understanding of how to solve my problem of “dangerous hands.” Therefore, I was strictly forbidden to touch people without the protective gloves developed especially for me.

  And they began to teach me individually, essentially locking me in the house. No, I should note here that we have a gorgeous country estate with large grounds and all that… But it’s still not the same, you understand? Still a cage, just a large cage. A sort of enclosure for a particularly unruly girl in the form of me, yeah.

  Why was I transferred to homeschooling at all? Because the inquisitors from the General Staff, who witnessed one such “glitch” of mine, were extremely concerned about the potential magical threat I posed and actually demanded to lock me behind bars.

  Well, okay, I’m exaggerating a bit here: not behind bars, of course, but simply in an individual ward of the General Staff infirmary, pending investigation. But how is that any better than bars, huh? That’s what I think too — it’s not.

  My father and the Mentor insisted then that I be locked up not in the General Staff infirmary but left at home, under strict supervision. Thanks to them for that, of course.

  I think I would have quickly lost my mind in the infirmary, but this way… This way I retained some illusion of freedom.

  Although several times I still freaked out and tried to escape somewhere into the city alone, just to get some relief from the constant strict control. And a year ago I actually managed to do it, ye-e-eah.

  I involuntarily broke into a dreamy smile at the memories of that spectacular day.

  But then I shook my head and mentally slapped myself. Calm down, Lora, don’t get all mushy. Now is not the time or place. And anyway, your very existence is still in question, so put aside all the romantic nonsense for now.

  The dining hall was almost empty at such a late hour. In the spacious room with towering ceilings and long narrow stained-glass windows, about five people sat, no more. They had settled at distant tables in the shadows and were cheerfully discussing something while drinking tea.

  I headed toward the serving tables but discovered they were empty. Hmm… only now did I realize that, actually, it was already too late — dinner was long over. Only tea sets remained for those who liked to sit up at night with a cup of tea and a cookie in hand.

  I hadn’t been to the academy dining hall in so long that I had forgotten about this detail… So why did Calypso send me to the dining hall? Did he want to mess with me or something?

  “Oh no, no, dear, everything’s already set out for you!” Vordzhania rushed over to me, a pretty red-haired woman of short stature.”

  She was the head of our dining hall, our local goddess of food. And why not?

  She truly cooked divinely. As good as our cook at home was, I still fondly remembered the exquisite meat dishes and berry desserts prepared by Vordzhania. In the culinary arts, she had true talent — the kind you can only be born with.

  She waved her hand toward one table by the window and said:

  “Mr. Brandt ordered a hearty dinner prepared for you. I’ve already set the table for you.”

  “Oh, that’s so kind of the Mentor,” I beamed, walking over to a table literally piled with food.

  Lots of vegetables, aromatic meat with various sauces — mmm, just what I needed to satisfy my hunger after that insane “training battle” and replenish my strength. Plus a fruit platter, presumably so I’d roll away from the table afterward. Not that I minded — I had actually begun to feel hungry now.

  I was ready to melt into a happy little puddle.

  No, really, it was so sweet of the Mentor! We had just did a number on his academy, and he still made sure everything was prepared for me. I adore him.

  “I mean Mr. Brandt Junior,” Vordzhania smiled even wider, pushing a pitcher of cranberry juice toward me.

  “Calypso stopped by, told me to prepare food for you. We happened to have a large portion left from dinner, just waiting for you. Mr. Brandt Junior listed the foods that would be most beneficial for you right now, then rushed off somewhere with the Mentor they were arguing quite emotionally the whole way.”

  The blissful smile on my face turned to surprise. Calypso? Took care of my dinner?

  That was, hmm, rather unexpected, considering Calypso’s character.

  And… pleasant, no point hiding it.

  “Hi! You’re Lora, right?” came a clear girl’s voice nearby.

  A girl and a guy sat down next to me, both about my age, also dressed in the black uniform of Armarillis adepts. The girl had long light-brown hair gathered in a high ponytail, with expressive light-brown eyes. She looked rather strict but good-natured.

  “My name is Patricia Windsor,” she introduced herself.

  “I’m a fire mage from Sharenhol. I don’t think we’ve crossed paths at the academy before.”

  I nodded. I had only seen Patricia a couple of times but hadn’t really talked to her — she had entered the academy right around the time I was taken away for homeschooling.

  “I’ve heard some pretty wild stories about you,” Patricia added, sizing me up.

  “We knew you’d be joining our ranks soon, but we didn’t know the exact date. People talk about you a lot, Lora. You know, some people at the academy are scared of you.”

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  I tensed up. The last thing I needed right now was some drama and problems. If this girl had sat down to get on my nerves, I swear I’d stab her with my fork and pelt her with bones from the meat I’d eaten.

  “So… So what?” I asked tensely.

  “What do you mean, so what? I want to get to know you right away! If everyone’s talking about you and already scared, that means you’re wicked cool and interesting,” Patricia laughed.

  I exhaled with relief. Judging by her open laugh, Patricia wasn’t being dishonest — she was quite genuine.

  Her laughter was echoed by the guy who had come with Patricia.

  “Grey Lavaz,” he introduced himself curtly, nodding at me in a friendly way.

  Now the guy, unlike Patricia, was her polar opposite — his short red hair alone was something. And his eyes… His eyes were bright yellow with vertical pupils. Combined with a short pointed beard and massive rings on his fingers, the guy made quite an impression.

  “I’m from Dragland,” he said, also pouring himself some cranberry juice into a glass.

  “A dragon?” I asked with respect.

  “Fire dragon,” Grey puffed out his chest importantly.

  He was clearly proud of it. But Patricia found it quite amusing and burst out laughing under Grey’s reproachful gaze.

  I smiled. Well, so far these guys were giving me positive vibes. Though I must admit, unpleasant wizards are rare among Fortemins. And if they do appear, the nonsense is usually knocked out of them pretty quickly. After all, the strict upbringing from childhood, the rigid discipline, and working together toward a common goal all played a part.

  “We’ll be studying in the same group,” said Patricia. “It’s number five right now.”

  “Are there many others in our group?” I asked, stuffing my face with vegetables in cream sauce.

  “With you and Calypso, there’ll be eight of us. He used to be in group six, with the di Vern-Rodingers, then went on an individual program. He’s being assigned to our group starting tomorrow as your warden.”

  I nodded, listening with interest to Patricia and her brief stories about the other adepts in the group, all of whom were somehow connected to fire magic. At Armarillis, adepts are divided into small groups of six to eight people, formed not by age but by level of magical development and area of focus. Like, for example, our fifth group was connected to fire magic.

  Professors mainly worked with these small groups, but of course we also had numerous joint classes with other groups. Mostly training — lectures were rarely given at Armarillis. We received most of our knowledge directly through practice, so even our lectures were usually combined with training.

  In short, the composition of study groups changed periodically, and sometimes there was a significant age difference between adepts in one group. For example, Patricia surprised me by saying that Polly Levington, who was only twelve years old, was also studying with us.

  “Among ourselves we call her little Po, but don’t you dare accidentally call her that to her face, or you’ll find out firsthand what the wrath of a little angry salamander looks like in action,” Patricia warned with a smile.

  Grey nodded very eagerly, rubbing his neck, which bore a residual scar that looked like a burn. Apparently, he was familiar with little Po’s wrath not just from hearsay.

  For a while we chatted pleasantly about everything and nothing. The guys told me what they had been doing the past week and that starting tomorrow, we had a week of solid combat practice announced.

  “You two really tore it up with Calypso out there,” Grey said at one point.

  “Patricia and I were watching from the window here. The noise was so loud the whole academy was probably glued to their windows. When I saw the Breath of Death flying at you, my heart dropped! I thought well, that’s it, Calypso’s completely lost it, and his opponent, meaning you, is about to be toast. But you deflected it! And so spectacularly too, wow! I’m impressed, Lora, it looked really cool. By the way, we didn’t realize right away that it was you dancing in that death match with Calypso. We were very surprised when we found out the truth.”

  I gave a crooked smile. Yeah, Lora, you sure made an entrance, no doubt about it.

  “He annoys me, that Brandt Junior,” Patricia grimaced. “Too arrogant and self-assured.”

  I quietly chuckled, absorbed in my thoughts and picked at the fruit platter.

  Ye-e-eah, Calypso is like that. Arrogant, self-assured, impossibly obnoxious. Absolutely shameless, as they say.

  I just adore him.

  “Of course he annoys you,” Grey readily agreed.

  “He keeps ignoring you no matter how much you show off in front of him or how low-cut a dress you wear, right?”

  His sly smirk quickly turned into furious muttering because Patricia conjured a miniature storm cloud above him that poured rain mixed with small hail onto Grey.

  I watched with a smile as these two — now my classmates — playfully fought. I watched and couldn’t shake off the pleasant warm feeling spreading in my chest.

  Oh, how happy I was to be back at Armarillis, if only anyone knew!..

  After the hearty dinner, I headed to my new quarters. I hadn’t been in this room yet — Eric had only told me where he’d drop off my things, in the dormitory wing, on the fourth floor.

  As it happened, Calypso and I approached the quarters almost simultaneously, from opposite ends of the corridor. He was walking toward me, extremely pleased with himself. Judging by his triumphant look, he had won the argument with his father and couldn’t wait to brag about it.

  And sure enough:

  “I got permission from the Mentor for you to participate in all group classes,” he said, throwing open the door to the room for me, letting me in and brazenly following behind.

  “Strictly under my supervision and my responsibility, of course. Father was against it at first, but I managed to convince him.”

  This was amazing news. No, really! Just this morning I wouldn’t have even dared to dream of this!

  Only right now I couldn’t properly appreciate it, because my attention was occupied by something else.

  I tensely surveyed the room I found myself in. I thought they would just give me a standard bedroom, but I was now standing in a small cozy living room with a fireplace, with two doors on either side.

  And judging by what was visible through those slightly open doors, they led to different bedrooms. In the left room I could see my blue suitcase: apparently that bedroom was meant for me. And the right one?…

  I swallowed nervously when I saw how confidently Calypso opened that very right door to a room where a heap of clearly not my clothes lay on the bed.

  I asked:

  “Wait… Did they give us shared quarters?”

  “Adjoining,” Calypso nodded.

  He didn’t even bat an eye, while I started nervously twitching both of mine. What do you mean?!

  “But… why?” I asked stupidly, stepping onto the threshold of the bedroom meant for Calypso and looking at him with alarm.

  “In all of gigantic Armarillis, they couldn’t find any other bedrooms or what?”

  Calypso laughed and looked at me with a playful smile.

  “Sca-a-ared of me, Lo-o-ori?” he sang.

  “Stop calling me that,” I grumbled, wanting to steer the conversation elsewhere.

  “My name is Lora.”

  “I won’t stop. I like it better. And you didn’t answer the question, which means you’re scared.”

  I pursed my lips and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “How do I know what’s going on in your head? Maybe you’ll start sneaking into my room at night.”

  “Of course I will,” Calypso readily agreed.

  “If it’s necessary.”

  “And if it’s not necessary?…”

  “I’ll still do it. What, you’re just going to sleep sweetly right next door to me, without me?”

  My face fell, and Calypso laughed again.

  “You react to me so amusingly… It’s simply impossible to resist teasing you. But seriously, we were given adjoining quarters because of your possible episodes. I was warned that sometimes right in the middle of the night you might have these, hmm, “darkness episodes”, let’s call them so. And in that case I must always be nearby.”

  “They rarely happen,” I grumbled with displeasure.

  “But they do happen, Lori. You know that perfectly well yourself. And then I’ll need to get to you as quickly as possible to either handle the problem myself or call one of the seniors for help in time. So it’s adjoining quarters only, Lori, hardcore mode,” Calypso chuckled, watching my contorted face with pleasure.

  “By the way, there are no locks on the doors. Neither in your room nor in mine.”

  “What do you mean, no locks?” I protested, gripping the door frame tightly and only now seeing that there really were no locks on the doors.

  “There are no latches in the bathroom either,” Calypso delivered the final blow with a charming smile.

  “And you can’t put locking charms on any doors. Everything here is covered by an anti-blocker so that if something happens, I can quickly and unobstructedly reach you if I sense trouble.”

  My eye twitched nervously.

  Well, this is just great…

  “And how can you sense that something’s wrong with me?” I squinted skeptically.

  “I’ll just know.”

  “What do you mean?!!”

  “Exactly what I said.”

  I think I need tape for my twitching eye.

  Calypso broke into a wide smile, looking at the ruffled me, and added in a more serious voice:

  “Very easily, it’s no trouble for me. When the darkness hits you from inside, you emit a specific vibration that can’t be mistaken for anything else. Someone who knows what they’re looking for can easily detect such things.”

  “Right. Maybe you’ll be bursting in on me every day, at the most inconvenient moment for me, just because, under the convenient pretext of“I thought something was wrong with you?”

  “Is that what you want, Lori?” Calypso whispered.

  He looked into my eyes in su-u-uch a way that my heart skipped a beat.

  Calypso was unbuttoning his shirt cuffs, taking off his white gloves, and I froze, staring at his long elegant fingers.

  Everything about him was somehow… elegant and magnetic. Damn it, he even managed to take off his gloves in a way that took my breath away. Why does he even wear gloves? Ah, although, maybe precisely so people won’t admire them too much? Heh…

  “You keep forgetting to breathe,” Calypso said quietly, continuing to bore into me with that searching gaze.

  I loudly inhaled through my nose, remembering how to breathe.

  What the hell is this with these adjoining quarters… I didn’t like this idea. And it really made me nervous.

  “But yes, the lack of locks on the doors and the ban on blocking charms here is a serious problem, of course,” Calypso said thoughtfully in a different tone.

  “A problem, yes… And how am I supposed to bring girls here if you can burst in at any moment and interfere? Oh well, you’ll just have to leave the room and go for a walk somewhere when I ask you to,” he finished snidely.

  Trying to embarrass me? You picked the wrong girl.

  “Ye-e-es, agreed,” I nodded willingly.

  “You’ll also leave and go for a walk when I ask you to leave me alone with some guy, deal?”

  “What, you’d kick me out?” Calypso gasped theatrically.

  “And you won’t consult me about what lingerie to choose? And you won’t even let me chaperone you two?”

  I couldn’t help but burst out laughing, imagining that picture.

  “Please don’t, I couldn’t handle it.”

  “But you could handle me?”

  “Is that a trick question?”

  Calypso smirked in a somehow bad, very cunning way, and that wicked smile of his made me think exclusively about indecent things.

  On top of everything, he continued unbuttoning his scarlet shirt, button by button, and I couldn’t help thinking that to complete the picture I was only missing some appropriate music…

  Oh wait, why missing? Not missing at all! I didn’t notice when Calypso had turned on the music — or had it been playing since we first entered the room and I just hadn’t noticed because I was so emotional? — but soft music was indeed playing in the bedroom, coming from somewhere near the windowsill. Languid, beckoning. Seductive, I’d say. Devilishly enchanting, just like Calypso himself.

  My gaze traced Calypso’s sharp cheekbones, his collarbones, and got stuck somewhere below, where my view was currently obstructed by the shirt hiding his tanned athletic body.

  Why was this piece of red fabric getting in the way and hiding all that beauty, huh? It was just annoying, honestly. And not letting me see Calypso’s other piercings… I knew he had more than just his ears and eyebrow pierced.

  “You’re still here?” Calypso’s sweet voice pulled me out of my unbridled fantasies.

  “I need to change, get to the bath, but I, hmm… wouldn’t mind your company. Are you going to your room or staying with me? If it’s the second option, then stop hovering in the doorway and come in and close the door behind you.”

  “Y-yes…” I whispered incoherently, watching as if hypnotized as the last button on his shirt came undone.

  “Yes?”

  “Ye-e-es…”

  “Yes, what exactly?”

  “Yes, I’m leaving now,” I said in a firmer voice, shaking my head.

  I bolted into the living room as if a predator was chasing me. And Calypso, though he wasn’t chasing me, was perfectly suited for the role of predator.

  Closing the door behind me, I couldn’t resist peeking through the crack, casting one last glance at Calypso. Now he was standing facing the window, he had already taken off his shirt, dimmed the bright light, and I could clearly see his back and muscular broad shoulders. My hands were itching to run my nails along those shoulders…

  “So who’s the one sneaking peeks now?…” Calypso sang in a honeyed little voice without turning around.

  I slammed the door shut, startled and shot like a bullet to my bedroom. I propped the door from inside with a chair. Not much of a barrier for a real predator, but my inner drama queen calmed down a little.