"You're lucky you didn't light yourself on fire."
That was the first thing Nurse Vivianne said as she guided me back to my dorm after the cult incident. Her arms were crossed. Her lips were tight. Her glare could've cracked glass.
"I mean," I mumbled, limping slightly, "at least then I'd be warm?"
"Don't joke. This is serious."
I flopped onto my bed like a sack of magical disappointment.
Vivianne stood over me. "When did you learn to do that?"
"I didn't learn it," I said. "I just... flamed. Instinctively. Like magical indigestion."
She didn't laugh.
"You shouldn't have that kind of power. It doesn't exist."
"Then I guess I don't either."
Vivianne pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're skipping the rest of the week. I'll clear it with the headmaster."
"No problem."
A few days later.
The start of a new week. Clear skies, fresh parchment, and just enough lingering trauma to qualify as a "minor mental event."
Students buzzed around the courtyard, some stealing glances at me. Whispers trailed my footsteps.
Because even if no one knew what really happened, word of the "sickly Drakopoulos surviving a cult attack and walking back like nothing happened" had spread.
What they didn't know was today — this specific Monday — was the day Noah Drakopoulos was supposed to die.
According to the book? I collapse during combat class. Quiet. Off-screen. Discarded.
But this time?
I'm here.
And I'm not dying today.
---
"Boo."
I flinched so hard I nearly dropped my notebook.
Liora grinned, walking beside me. "Still jumpy?"
"You're the worst."
"I know." She smirked. "First day back. You nervous?"
"Nope," I lied. "Excited to duel someone with a wooden stick while I can barely stand."
"That's the spirit."
Class: Magical Combat – Arena 3B
Master Halwin stood like a stone wall, arms crossed, surveying the students like we were all about to disappoint him. Which, to be fair, we were.
"Pair up. Light contact. Controlled mana only. No grandstanding."
"Define grandstanding," I muttered.
"You're partnered with Koren Velmouth," Liora said, reading the match list.
"Who?"
She pointed. A tall guy with too much jawline and a bandana. Classic background noble with main character delusions.
He swaggered over, spinning his wooden blade like it owed him money.
"Didn't think you'd show, ghost-boy," he said.
"I wanted to give you someone to feel superior to," I replied sweetly.
He grinned. "I'm gonna enjoy this."
I barely blocked his first strike.
Second one clipped my shoulder.
Third knocked me down to one knee.
It was happening.
This was it.
The moment I was supposed to die.
But I didn't feel like dying.
I felt angry.
Exhausted.
Defiant.
Koren raised his sword.
I raised my hand.
Mana surged. My soul screamed. I reached deep — too deep — and whispered:
"Black flames."
A dark pulse surged from my palm.
The fire wasn't red or gold — it was deep violet, nearly black, with smoky edges that twisted unnaturally.
It slammed into the ground near Koren's feet, knocking him flat on his back with a yelp.
Silence fell across the arena.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
"What kind of fire was that?" someone whispered.
"It didn't feel right."
"It wasn't even hot — it felt… cold."
Up on the observation deck, a student council member snapped their fingers.
"Who is that?"
Another flipped open a file scroll.
"Noah Drakopoulos. Third son. House Drakopoulos. Listed as magically unstable. No recorded affinities. No fire type registered."
The first narrowed his eyes. "Then what the hell was that?"
After class, Vivianne dragged me straight to the infirmary.
She didn't speak. Just checked my pulse, eyes, mana flow.
Then finally whispered, "Did anyone know what it was?"
"No," I said. "They just called it weird."
She nodded, relieved. "Keep it that way."
At lunch, Liora sat beside me. Bennett joined too, practically bouncing.
"Okay, spill," Bennett said. "That spell wasn't normal. People are saying you tapped a forbidden affinity."
"They can say what they want," I muttered, poking at my food.
Liora sipped her drink. "You know, for someone so mysterious, you really like being obvious."
"I'm complicated."
"You're dramatic."
Bennett grinned. "Hey, if you ever wanna duel again, I promise not to run away screaming."
"Thanks, that's the nicest threat I've had today."
Around us, the whispers continued.
Some voices were curious.
Some jealous.
Some afraid.
But the important thing?
I lived.
Today was the day I was supposed to die.
But I didn't.
And now the story — my story — was off script.