Chapter 25
Stasia and I walked down the long corridor behind Mr. Shiford.
In his hands was a sheet listing the students' room assignments.
I was nervous.
Even if I tried not to show it.
Stasia, on the other hand, looked far too calm.
As though she already knew the outcome.
I glanced at her.
She smirked.
I knew it.
And if she was calm...
Maybe I should follow her example.
“There are several rules in the dormitory,” Eugene said as he walked behind us.
It almost felt as though they were boxing us in.
Whether because they didn’t trust us...
Or because they feared us.
Or because they still suspected us of working with Moss.
“First rule: curfew,” Eugene continued.
“The dormitory doors lock at eleven p.m. After that, you won’t be able to pass through the barrier gates.”
“Well,” Stasia sighed dramatically, “I guess I’ll just have to spend the night with my mentor.”
“Miss Lang, I suggest you take this more seriously.”
“What a shame you’re not in my position, then.”
What exactly was she trying to accomplish?
“Second rule,” Eugene continued through clenched teeth, “any trip beyond the borders of Isthmond must be approved by the administration.”
“Third rule,” Mr. Shiford added in a gentler tone, “students are not permitted to change rooms or roommates on their own.”
“Afraid we might accidentally become allies?” Stasia asked immediately.
“Room assignments are not random,” Eugene replied stiffly.
“Magic type, abilities, and current development levels all factor into them.”
“And what if roommates start fighting?” Stasia tilted her head slightly.
“What if they use their abilities against each other during an argument?”
“The use of magic or abilities inside the dormitory is strictly forbidden,” Eugene said darkly.
“And if I formed a Sisterhood Bond with someone, would we be assigned to the same room?” Stasia asked innocently.
“Maybe try meeting your assigned roommates before asking ridiculous questions,” Eugene snapped.
“And who exactly is the head supervisor?” Stasia asked immediately, clearly trying to provoke him further.
“This is your studio,” Mr. Shiford interrupted smoothly, ignoring her question.
“Our studio?” I asked.
“So we ended up together?”
“If we did, I’m not planning on fighting anyone,” Stasia added.
“You’ll be living in the same studio,” Eugene clarified, “but in separate rooms.”
Mr. Shiford knocked on the door.
A few seconds later, a young woman peeked outside.
Her eyes were almost completely black, matching the long braids woven tightly against her head.
Her gaze immediately landed on me—
Then shifted to Stasia.
“So which one is it?” the girl asked in a rather rough voice.
“Joelle, you could at least try to sound a little more welcoming,” Mr. Shiford said with a gentle smile.
It had absolutely no effect on her.
“You’ll be living with Stasia,” Eugene answered for him, nodding toward Joelle.
“Illariana will be sharing a studio with Gianna.”
“Why am I the one stuck living with three first-years?” Joelle frowned.
She didn’t even try to hide her irritation.
Meanwhile, I was dying to know what kind of magic she possessed.
Something about her felt destructive.
Powerful.
And fiercely independent.
“You spent the last three years living alone because we couldn’t find anyone compatible with your magic,” Eugene replied.
“It’s time you learned to share your space.”
With a flick of his hand, the half-open door Joelle had been holding swung fully open, revealing a bright, spacious studio beyond.
“Go on in,” Mr. Shiford said warmly.
“Get settled,” Eugene added impatiently, shooting Mr. Shiford an irritated glance.
“We still have ten more students to place.”
“We need to keep moving.”
“Wait, what?” Joelle asked immediately, leaning farther into the hallway.
“Ten more?”
“For the Strongest Class?”
She didn’t even try to hide her surprise.
“There will be two Strongest Classes this year,” Mr. Shiford said with a smile.
“And now we really should get going.”
“Try being nice, if possible,” Eugene muttered before the two men disappeared down the corridor.
******
Since my roommate still hadn’t arrived, I decided to take advantage of the situation and claimed the left side of the room for myself—closer to the bathroom and tucked beneath the deepest shadows.
The right side felt far too bright.
Besides the two beds and the bathroom door, the room also had a large window with a wide windowsill that someone could easily curl up on.
There were two small wardrobes.
Two dressers.
But despite all the space, the room didn’t feel comfortable.
The bare white walls felt oppressive, and the atmosphere reminded me of a hospital room.
Or worse—
The psychiatric clinic I’d once visited.
This was supposed to be a new chapter of my life.
But right now, it didn’t draw me in at all.
Was I really that dependent on warmth and familiarity if a spacious but half-empty room could make me feel this hollow?
A sudden shout erupted from the living room.
I rushed toward the sound immediately.
In the middle of the large, sunlit common area stood an enraged Stasia and Joelle, facing each other.
A shattered flowerpot lay between them, dirt scattered across the spotless floor.
“And that’s what’ll happen to every plant you bring in here,” Joelle said coldly.
Her black eyes looked seconds away from burning a hole straight through Stasia.
But Stasia wasn’t the type to back down.
“And every single time, you’ll choke on the toxins I release into that smug face of yours,” she snarled, raising an open hand—
As though she fully intended to follow through on the threat.
My entire body tensed.
“Both of you, calm down,” I said sharply.
“Can’t this be settled without screaming at each other?”
Joelle’s glare snapped toward me instantly.
But Stasia kept staring at her.
Trying to burn her alive.
Thankfully only metaphorically.
“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?” Joelle hissed.
“You’re nothing here.”
“You showed up from God knows where and already think you’re entitled to tell people what to do.”
“I haven’t even started yet,” I replied, realizing I wouldn’t mind setting this bitch on fire myself.
“And who exactly are you to call us nobodies?” Stasia cut in.
“What kind of magic do you even have that they decided to make us roommates?”
“The kind that could kill you in seconds.”
Joelle stepped toward Stasia.
I immediately moved between them, raising an arm to block her path.
Let her try touching either of us.
I knew perfectly well I was taking the wrong side.
I should’ve been trying to calm both of them down.
But damn it—
I wasn’t about to let anyone threaten me or the people I cared about.
And somehow...
Stasia had already become one of those people.
That realization had come far sooner than I wanted to admit.
“Try it,” Stasia said, stepping forward as well.
And I froze.
Having absolutely no idea what to expect from Joelle’s magic.
The sharp creak of the opening door suddenly shattered the tension in the room.
I turned around.
Eugene and Mr. Shiford stood in the doorway looking thoroughly unimpressed.
Beside them stood an unfamiliar girl.
“And what exactly is going on here?” Mr. Shiford frowned.
“You moved two insane, uncontrollable girls into my studio,” Joelle scoffed.
“Looks like similar people attract each other,” I shot back, meeting her gaze.
“Enough,” Mr. Shiford said firmly.
His eyes shifted toward Joelle.
“What caused the conflict?” Eugene asked coldly.
“Their existence,” Joelle snapped.
“This psycho smashed my flowerpot before I even had a chance to set it down,” Stasia said, pointing angrily at the shattered pot.
“Be grateful I didn’t smash your face too,” Joelle fired back immediately.
Yeah.
She was absolutely insane.
“Then try it,” Stasia answered without hesitation.
“Enough,” Mr. Shiford repeated, his voice sharper this time.
“None of you are getting reassigned, even if you try poisoning each other with your magic.”
My gaze drifted back to Joelle.
Did she and Stasia have similar abilities?
Then my attention shifted to the unfamiliar girl standing beside the professors.
She looked...
Harmless.
Too harmless.
Big eyes.
Freckled cheeks.
Straight red hair.
A softer, curvier build.
If she was supposed to be my roommate...
Then what kind of magic did she have?
Lightning?
What else could possibly coexist with my fire?
“And no,” Eugene said calmly, “you won’t be poisoning each other.”
He was terrifyingly composed.
He snapped his fingers.
Thick silver bracelets appeared around the girls’ wrists.
And around mine.
What the hell were these?
“You have no right!” Joelle snapped immediately.
“Oh, we have plenty of reasons,” Eugene replied coldly.
“And you wouldn’t like a single one of them.”