Chapter 10 10- Never Accept Study Help From Trouble
LEXI
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It takes me a moment to remember the name of the professor from this morning, Professor Layla Young. She doesn’t wait for the class to
settle or quiet down. Instead, she strides to her desk with brisk confidence, grabs something small and glassy from the surface, and tosses
it onto the floor. It shatters. Loudly. The crack of breaking glass slices through the chatter like a whip, and the room falls instantly silent.
Shards bounce across the tiles, catching the light in bright, dangerous flashes. Professor Young turns to a girl in the front row who looks
absolutely horrified, like she’s just watched someone drop an infant rather than a figurine.
“Put that back together for me,” The professor orders. The girl swallows, voice trembling.
“I… I can’t.” She answers nervously. Professor Young nods as if she expected that.
“Alright. Tell me, why can’t you put it back together?” She prompts.
“There are too many pieces!” The girl blurts out, cheeks flushing. Professor Young clicks her tongue.
“No, that’s not quite right. The pieces are all here. It shouldn’t matter how many there are.” She scans the room.
“Anyone else?” She asks. A guy in the back calls out.
“Because the pieces are too small?” He tries. Still wrong. She shakes her head again. I feel a strange spark of understanding, half intuition, half common sense, and raise my hand tentatively. She gestures toward me.
“Because…” I say slowly.
“We don’t know how the pieces are supposed to fit together?” I guess. Professor Young claps her hands sharply, smiling.
“Yes. Exactly right, Miss…?” She trails off.
“Alexis Elle.” I finish, sitting up a little straighter.
“Miss Elle.” Her smile widens.
“With enough patience, the number or size of the pieces doesn’t matter. What we lack is the understanding” She agrees. Then she waves a hand over the scattered shards. The air shimmers. Glass Fragments lift off the floor, swirling upward in a delicate dance before clicking together, piece by piece, until the original object reforms into a small glass dolphin. The class watches in awed silence. She sets it gently back on her desk.
“People are just like that figurine. There are many parts, and they can break in a million different ways. Magic is a useful tool, but to fix something, you must understand it first.” She explains. Her gaze sweeps across the room, sharp and assessing.
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Chapter 10 10- Never Accept Study Help From Trouble
45
“That’s where this class comes in. We will go over basic anatomy for as many creatures as we can manage, and you will be tested on your ability to determine what is wrong with someone and how to fix it.” She says. My heart gives a little flutter. This is fascinating. Difficult? Hell yes, but also exactly the kind of challenging puzzle I enjoy. Professor Young continues.
“Actually fixing something with magic is something I cannot teach you. Not every magical being has that ability. If you are in this class, it
is because you have the potential. By the end of this subject, we aim to determine whether that ability exists in you, and whether it is
strong enough to justify the many years of strenuous study required to become proficient in Medicinal Magic.” She pauses, letting the
weight of her words settle.
“This is considered one of the most difficult subjects the Academy offers.” She warns.
“But it is also one of the most rewarding. At the end of the first semester, I will make a recommendation about whether this path is right for you. From there, you may choose to continue or to transfer.” SHe says clearly. She looks each of us in the eye, one by one, as if measuring our resolve. I sit straighter under her gaze. This… This actually feels right. Like something I could genuinely excel at, whatever species I turn out to be. Another clue to pass on to Blake for his ongoing shifter guesswork I suppose. It’s interesting. I never would have guessed the cheerful professor who introduced herself this morning would be teaching such an intense and difficult subject.
“Okay, class.” She announces, clapping her hands once.
“We will begin with human biology. Humans are an excellent starting point, many magical beings have a human or near–human form. You might not know how to heal a wolf or a bird, but if you can heal a human, you can help a great many people. That is, if you can get them to return to a form you understand.” She clarifies. A ripple of nervous laughter moves through the class.
“In second year, for those who continue, there are lessons on how to force a shift on someone else if needed.” She adds. I swallow. That sounds… Intense. But also unbelievably cool. For the first time since I came here, I actually feel… A little bit confident. I studied nursing. This kind of stuff is what I like to learn. Maybe I’ll even have a slight advantage here? I’m not sure. But either way I am determined to do
well.
I spend the rest of the class hanging on Professor Young’s every word. She speaks quickly but clearly, her enthusiasm sharpening every concept until even the complex parts feel exciting instead of overwhelming. 1 scribble notes as fast as my hand can move, grateful to find a pad of paper and a pen tucked neatly in the drawer beneath my desk. The handwriting ends up a bit chaotic, but at least it’s legible. The class flies by. When she finally claps her hands to dismiss us, I actually feel a little disappointed.
“Leave your notes in your desks.” She calls as everyone begins packing up.
“You can access them from the desks in your rooms or from any classroom. I will see you all next class. Have a good evening, everyone” She says with an air of finality. I pause mid–movement, confused. Access my notes… From any desk? Magte is wild Still, I leave the notebook where it is, trusting the system even though I barely understand it. The rest of the class filters out quickly, but I linger, not ready for the lesson to be over. Something about this subject feels like a missing puzzle piece sliding into place. I take a breath, gather my courage, and walk up to the professor before she can leave.
“Hi, um…” I begin, hoping I don’t sound as awkward as I feel.
“I was wondering if there’s a textbook or something that I can read in my free time? I want to learn a bit more about this.” I tell her nervously. I immediately worry I sound like some kind of overachieving teacher’s pet trying to score points this early in the year. But it
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Chapter 10 10- Never Accept Study Help From Trouble
isn’t about that. I just… Want to know more. I liked nursing, but this feels even more alive, more magical, more me. Whatever ‘me‘ actually is. Professor Young beams at me, her whole face lighting up.
“Of course!” She says warmly.
“The Academy will take care of it. Make sure to check your bookshelf later. If you really want to know more, the library will provide
something for you.” She promises. I stare at her.
“Really? That’s just… Really awesome.” The words tumble out excitedly before I can stop them. Heat floods my cheeks. Great. Now I sound like a starstruck first–year who’s never seen a book before. Which… Technically is kind of true, at least when it comes to magical
textbooks. Professor Young chuckles, not unkindly.
“It is pretty awesome. Good luck, Miss Elle. I’ll see you next lesson. And don’t hesitate to seek me out if you have any questions.” She says kindly. I thank her, probably a little too enthusiastically, and head out of the room feeling lighter than I did walking in. If this is what magic school is like, maybe I’m not as unprepared as I thought.
I can’t resist. The second I’m out of the building, I head straight for my room, practically speed walking the entire way. My curiosity is buzzing under my skin, and by the time I reach my door I’m almost giddy. I beeline to my bookshelf the moment I’m inside. Three new books sit neatly on the middle shelf, as if they’ve always belonged there. I blink at them, impressed all over again by how casually magical this place is. The first book is about shifter regulations, the topic from my morning class. The second is titled ‘Stage One Medicinal Magic‘, thick and crisp and smelling faintly of paper and herbs. But it’s the third that pulls my attention the hardest. An older looking book, bound in worn leather and stamped with gold lettering. ‘Shifters: A Mostly Complete Record.‘ Mostly complete? So… Not complete? What a ridiculous, overly honest title. Who names a book like that? I roll my eyes but grab it off the shelf anyway. It feels sturdy in my hands, heavier than it looks. When I flip to the contents page, the categories span everything from common shifters to rare, obscure species I’ve never heard of. I run a finger down the list until I find dragons. Well… Why not learn a bit more about them? Blake has been pretty open so far, but it can’t hurt to get a second source. Page ninety–six… I flip through the pages quickly. Ninety… Ninety–three… Ninety–five… Then I turn the page and freeze. Page ninety–six is ripped out. Completely gone. Just a jagged row of torn paper clinging to the spine. Page ninety–seven is missing too. Seriously? I stare at the empty gap, incredulous. Of all the pages that could’ve been torn out, it had to be the one on dragons, and whatever came next. How unbelievably inconvenient. Well… That answers nothing. How annoying. I shut the book with a soft thump and slide it back onto the shelf. If I want to know more about dragons, I guess I’ll have to ask Blake directly, He’s been surprisingly forthcoming so far… And maybe I can convince him to talk about things he didn’t cover over lunch. I turn toward my desk, remembering what Professor Young said about the notes. I kneel beside the drawer and pull it open. Sure enough, there are my notes from class, sitting neatly inside as if I’d placed them there myself. The pages look crisp and untouched, not magically transported across the building. I grin to myself. This is pretty cool. No heavy textbooks. No folders to misplace. No panicking because I left something on my bed. My room desk connects to my classroom desk. That alone might make magic school worth it.
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loving it so far
7 days ago
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
