District 7 Academy

The common room of District 7's castle is a cavern of worn leather armchairs and flickering candlelight, the stone walls draped with tapestries that have seen better centuries. You've claimed your usual spot—a sagging couch near the fireplace, boots propped up on a battered trunk that serves as a coffee table. The flames cast dancing shad...

The common room of District 7's castle is a cavern of worn leather armchairs and flickering candlelight, the stone walls draped with tapestries that have seen better centuries. You've claimed your usual spot—a sagging couch near the fireplace, boots propped up on a battered trunk that serves as a coffee table. The flames cast dancing shadows across your face as you flip through a dog-eared paperback, one finger hooked lazily between the pages. The heavy oak door groans open, and you don't need to look up to know who it is. The bootfalls are unmistakable—heavy, purposeful, accompanied by the familiar jingle of Remi's keychain, a collection of bottle openers and tiny skulls she's accumulated over the years. "Still reading that trash?" Remi's voice cuts through the quiet, rough around the edges but warm underneath. She drops onto the couch beside you, the cushions sagging under her weight. A fresh tattoo peeks out from her rolled-up sleeve—a dagger wrapped in thorny vines, still pink at the edges. "It's called literature, you heathen." You turn a page without looking up. "Not that you'd know anything about that." "Literature my ass." She snatches the book from your hands, holding it out of reach when you lunge for it. "'The Lusty Arcanist's Guide to Forbidden Rituals'? Real highbrow stuff, Raven." You snatch it back, but the smirk's already tugging at your lips. "Some of us like to expand our horizons." "Some of us like to look at pictures of naked people doing weird shit with candles." Before you can fire back, the door swings open again, and Skyler strides in like she owns the place—which, given her attitude, she might as well. Her pink pixie cut catches the firelight like a warning flare, and her steampunk goggles are pushed up on her forehead, brass fittings glinting. "Heads up," she says, dropping into the armchair across from you. "New student just arrived. They're assigning them to this district." You raise an eyebrow. "And I care because...?" Skyler's grin is sharp. "Because he's got that look. The one that says he's either gonna be trouble or interesting." You exchange a glance with Remi. The corner of her mouth curls up. "Well," you say, closing your book with a deliberate snap. "Let's go see which one."

You swing your legs off the trunk and stand, the paperback tucked under your arm out of habit. The fire crackles behind you as Remi rises with a groan, stretching her arms above her head until her spine pops. "About time something happened around here," she says, cracking her neck. "I was starting to think this district had forgotten how...

You swing your legs off the trunk and stand, the paperback tucked under your arm out of habit. The fire crackles behind you as Remi rises with a groan, stretching her arms above her head until her spine pops. "About time something happened around here," she says, cracking her neck. "I was starting to think this district had forgotten how to get new blood." Skyler's already at the door, one hand on the iron handle, her goggles catching the light as she glances back at you both. "Word is he came in through the main gate about twenty minutes ago. They're processing him in the administration wing." "Processing." You snort. "Makes him sound like a side of beef." "Maybe he is." Remi grins, falling into step beside you as you cross the common room. "Could be a werecow or something." "Pretty sure that's not a thing." "Don't ruin my fun with facts." The three of you step out into the corridor, and the air shifts—cooler here, carrying the faint scent of stone and old incense that permeates every hallway in District 7. Torches flicker in iron sconces along the walls, casting long shadows that stretch and shrink as you move. The castle creaks around you, settling into its bones the way old buildings do, like it's breathing. Skyler leads the way, her boots clicking against the worn stone floor. She's got that bounce in her step, the one that means she's already spinning theories about who this new guy is and what kind of chaos he might bring. You've seen that bounce before. It usually ends with someone getting detention. "Administration wing's through the east courtyard," she says over her shoulder. "Figured we'd catch him on the way to his dorm assignment." "You figured we'd get a look at him before anyone else does," you correct. She doesn't deny it. Remi nudges your elbow as you round a corner, the corridor opening into a narrow passage lined with stained glass windows. Moonlight filters through in colored patches, painting the floor in blues and reds and golds. "You think he'll last a week?" "Depends," you say. "If he's smart, he'll keep his head down. If he's stupid—" "He'll fit right in with us," Remi finishes, and the both of you share a look that's half challenge, half amusement. The east courtyard opens before you, a rectangular space open to the night sky, surrounded by arched cloisters. A fountain sits in the center, its water catching the starlight, and on the far side, a figure emerges from the administration wing's doorway. Tall. Dark hair. Shoulders set like he's bracing for a fight. Skyler slows her pace, and you feel Remi tense beside you. The new student hasn't noticed you yet. He's looking down at a piece of paper in his hands—probably his dorm assignment—and there's something about the way he holds himself that makes you stop walking. Not nervous. Not cocky. Just... watchful. He looks up. His eyes find yours across the courtyard. And the night air goes still.

The moment stretches, thin as glass, and you feel Remi's elbow dig into your ribs before she mutters, "Well, he saw us. So much for the stealth approach." Skyler's already moving forward, because of course she is. She's got no concept of subtlety when there's a new variable to poke at. Her boots echo off the cloister stones as she crosse...

The moment stretches, thin as glass, and you feel Remi's elbow dig into your ribs before she mutters, "Well, he saw us. So much for the stealth approach." Skyler's already moving forward, because of course she is. She's got no concept of subtlety when there's a new variable to poke at. Her boots echo off the cloister stones as she crosses into the open courtyard, and you have no choice but to follow, Remi falling in beside you with that lazy, rolling gait she gets when she's sizing someone up. The new guy doesn't flinch as you approach. He just stands there, one hand holding the paper, the other resting loose at his side. Up close, you can make out more details—sharp jaw, dark eyes that don't seem to blink enough, a scar cutting through his left eyebrow. He's wearing the standard academy uniform, but it sits on him like he's not used to it, the collar slightly undone, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Skyler stops about ten feet away, hands on her hips. "You're the new one." It's not a question. His gaze slides from Skyler to you, then to Remi, taking all three of you in with a single, unhurried sweep. When he speaks, his voice is low, with an accent you can't quite place. "That obvious?" "Kind of." You step forward, letting the paperback drop onto a nearby bench. No point carrying it around anymore. "You've got that fresh-off-the-train look. Confused but trying not to show it." The corner of his mouth twitches. Not quite a smile, but close. "Noted." Remi crosses her arms, tilting her head. "What's your name, new blood?" He holds up the paper. "According to this, I'm Erlantz. According to me, I'm still deciding if that's a good thing." You snort. That's a decent answer. Better than some nervous stammer or an overconfident flex. Skyler circles him like a cat examining a new piece of furniture, her goggles glinting under the starlight. "Where you from? You don't sound local." "Basque Country," he says. "But I've been moved around enough that the accent's gone weird." "Basque." Remi whistles low. "That's a hike. What'd you do to end up here?" Erlantz's eyes flick to her, and something in his expression shifts—guarded, but not hostile. "Same thing everyone here did, I imagine. Got noticed by the wrong people for the right reasons." That answer hangs in the air, carrying more weight than you expected. You exchange a glance with Remi, and you can tell she's thinking the same thing: there's a story there, and it's probably not a simple one. The fountain trickles behind him, and somewhere in the distance, a bell tolls the hour. Skyler breaks the silence first, clapping her hands together. "Well, Erlantz-from-the-Basque-Country, welcome to District 7. I'm Skyler. This is Remi. And the one with the resting bitch face is Raven." "Charming," you deadpan. Erlantz looks at you again, and this time, the almost-smile reaches his eyes. "Good to know the welcome committee has teeth."