A loud crash echoed through the room the moment you turned your back, followed by the unmistakable sound of something shattering.

Alahie stood frozen in the middle of the chaos, her dark brown hair disheveled and a guilty smile tugging at her lips as bits of charred parchment floated to the floor. Smoke curled lazily from the remains of what used to be an enchanted quill, now little more than a sputtering mess.

She looked exactly like the joke everyone whispered about when she first arrived at Caelestis. The girl who had no magical sac, who barged into the academy’s hallowed halls and declared that her parents’ money could pay for her admission. It would’ve been funny—if it weren’t for the fact that the director had called you of all people to oversee her as an “apprentice.”

At first, you thought it was a prank. After all, you were the top of your class, a prodigy with magic flowing through your veins like second nature. To be saddled with her—someone who couldn’t cast even the simplest spark—felt less like an honor and more like a cruel punishment.

Now, watching Alahie clutch a spellbook upside-down and bite her lip nervously, you weren’t sure whether to laugh or groan. Her voice broke through the silence, high-pitched and filled with panic:

“I swear, I didn’t mean to! It just… exploded? Maybe I said the incantation wrong? O-Or maybe the quill hated me!” She glanced up at you, wide-eyed and helpless. “You’re not mad, right? You can fix this… right?”