Chapter 8 - Morning Chaos
The first official morning of academy life began with absolute disaster.
"Lyra."
Silence.
"Lyra."
Nothing.
"...Lyra, if we get expelled on the first day because we overslept, I'm haunting you."
A pillow flew across the room.
It hit absolutely nothing before sliding dramatically onto the floor.
Several seconds later, a blanket shifted slightly as Lyra slowly opened one eye with the expression of someone whose soul had not fully returned to reality yet.
Across the dorm room, Amy looked equally dead from her own bed.
Sunlight already poured through the tall academy windows.
Far too much sunlight.
The silence lasted exactly three seconds.
Then both of them froze.
"...What time is it?" Amy asked carefully.
Lyra turned toward the clock hanging near the wall.
And immediately sat upright.
"8:55?!"
Chaos exploded instantly afterward.
Amy nearly rolled off the bed trying to stand.
"Did you set the alarm or not?!"
"I did!"
"Then why didn't it wake us up?!"
"It rang!"
Amy paused.
"...Don't tell me you turned it off."
Lyra looked deeply offended for half a second.
Then slowly less confident.
"...Possibly."
"You said you wake up early naturally!"
"I usually do!"
"Well your natural instincts have betrayed us!"
The room descended into complete destruction afterward.
Books hit the floor.
A chair nearly collapsed.
Amy somehow attempted to brush her hair, put on shoes, and complain about institutional cruelty all at the same time.
Meanwhile, Lyra looked only slightly more functional.
Only slightly...
"You look weirdly calm for someone who's catastrophically late," Amy accused while fixing her collar.
Lyra shoved random papers into her bag.
"I already accepted death."
"That is NOT a normal response!"
Several painful minutes later, both of them finally escaped the dormitory tower and sprinted into the academy halls.
Freshmen filled nearly every corridor now.
Some looked nervous.
Some excited.
Some already looked emotionally broken despite classes barely beginning.
Amy checked the academy schedule again while speed-walking beside Lyra.
"Okay, orientation hall should be inside the eastern magic division building."
Lyra frowned.
"...At the same time as combat orientation."
Amy slowed slightly.
Both of them looked at the schedule again.
Then at each other.
"...That feels like trouble somehow," Amy admitted.
"A little."
Unfortunately—
they were already late enough that standing around questioning reality would only make things worse.
Amy immediately grabbed Lyra's sleeve.
"Magic division first."
Before Lyra could argue, Amy dragged her directly toward the eastern academy halls.
Compared to the combat division, the magic section felt completely different.
Brighter.
Elegant.
Silver-blue crystal lamps floated near the ceilings while glowing runic patterns shifted faintly along the walls themselves. Circular classrooms stretched throughout the towers while students carrying books, staffs, and enchanted papers moved constantly between halls.
"It feels expensive," Amy whispered.
"It felt expensive the moment we entered this academy."
"That's fair."
By the time they entered the orientation chamber, the lecture had already begun.
A middle-aged professor stood near a massive rune board at the front while several late students awkwardly attempted to sneak inside unnoticed.
Unfortunately—
the professor noticed immediately.
"You're late."
The room became quiet.
Amy smiled nervously.
"The academy is extremely large, professor."
"That sounds like an excuse."
"It's also true."
Surprisingly, the professor only sighed afterward.
"Sit down before you become even more disruptive."
Amy immediately stole two empty seats before further disaster could occur.
The orientation itself passed relatively smoothly afterward.
Mostly introductions.
Magic theory structures.
Element specialization systems.
Laboratory regulations.
Safety warnings that somehow became more terrifying the longer they continued.
But throughout the lecture—
Lyra's attention continuously drifted toward the clock.
Combat orientation.
The overlap remained impossible.
The moment the lecture ended, Lyra stood immediately.
"I need to go."
Amy blinked.
"Right now?"
"The combat orientation started thirty minutes ago."
"...Oh."
Amy looked toward the massive academy map near the entrance.
Then slowly back toward Lyra with visible sympathy.
"...That building is literally on the other side of campus."
Lyra already knew that.
The next twenty minutes became pure suffering.
Valmere Academy somehow felt even larger while running through it.
Lyra crossed crowded hallways, massive courtyards, endless staircases, and accidentally entered the alchemy wing after taking a wrong turn.
Twice.
One second-year student looked genuinely disturbed after hearing where she needed to go.
"You're trying to reach the western combat arena from HERE?"
"Yes."
"...Good luck."
That was deeply unhelpful.
By the time Lyra finally reached the combat grounds—
she was really late.
The western division arena stretched beneath the open sky, surrounded by enormous stone platforms and elevated observation balconies already crowded with students.
At the center stood Mrs. Bradmore.
And unfortunately—
she noticed Lyra immediately.
The entire arena turned toward her afterward.
Wonderful.
Lyra quietly approached the training platform while pretending she could no longer feel embarrassment.
Mrs. Bradmore crossed her arms.
"You're late."
"Yes, ma'am."
"The orientation began fifty minutes ago."
Lyra hesitated briefly before answering honestly.
"My magic division orientation overlapped with this one."
Murmurs spread almost instantly through the crowd.
"Seriously?"
"She's attending both divisions?"
"That's unfair."
"Why does she get special treatment?"
The whispers weren't even subtle.
Lyra could feel dozens of eyes on her now.
Curiosity.
Annoyance.
Jealousy.
Mrs. Bradmore remained silent for several moments while studying her carefully.
"You attended the magic orientation first?"
"Yes."
"And then ran here immediately afterward."
"Yes."
The older woman looked completely unsurprised somehow.
Eventually she sighed.
"The administration handled this poorly."
Several students looked visibly dissatisfied hearing that.
One male student near the back immediately spoke up.
"So she still gets excused for being late?"
Mrs. Bradmore's gaze shifted toward him instantly.
The pressure in the arena changed almost immediately afterward.
"You are welcome to attend two separate divisions simultaneously as well," she replied calmly. "If you possess both the ability and the willingness to survive the schedule."
Silence.
The student shut up immediately.
Mrs. Bradmore looked back toward Lyra.
"Take your seat."
Lyra paused slightly.
"...Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," Mrs. Bradmore replied dryly. "You'll regret this arrangement within a week."
Several students laughed quietly afterward.
Honestly—
Lyra almost agreed.
The remaining orientation focused mostly on combat structure.
Weapon specializations.
Field survival exercises.
Training rotations.
Combat rankings.
Unlike the magic division, the atmosphere here felt harsher.
Less refined.
More direct.
By the time the session finally ended, Lyra already felt mentally destroyed.
And unfortunately—
she still had another lecture afterward.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur.
Running between buildings.
Confusing schedules.
Half-understood directions.
Infinite staircases.
At one point, Lyra genuinely considered whether dual affinity was simply a professionally designed punishment system.
By lunchtime—
she looked spiritually deceased.
Amy noticed immediately the moment Lyra collapsed into the cafeteria seat across from her.
"...You look like you survived a war."
"I did."
"That bad?"
Lyra rested her forehead briefly against the table.
"The classes overlap. The buildings are impossibly far apart. I accidentally entered a restricted hallway. Someone yelled at me. I think I crossed half the continent today."
Amy tried very hard not to laugh.
Unfortunately—
she failed.
"This isn't funny."
"It's a little funny."
Lyra looked deeply betrayed.
"I genuinely don't understand how I'm supposed to manage both divisions."
Amy's expression softened slightly afterward.
For the first time since Lyra sat down, she looked genuinely thoughtful.
"...Actually," she said slowly, "I might know someone who can help."
Lyra looked up slightly.
"A professor?"
"...Not exactly."
That answer sounded immediately suspicious.
Still—
Lyra no longer possessed enough remaining energy to question anything properly.
Later that afternoon, Amy guided her toward one of the upper administrative buildings connected to the student council halls.
Compared to the rest of the academy, this section felt quieter.
More organized.
Far less chaotic.
Amy stopped outside one of the offices before knocking lightly.
A familiar voice answered from inside.
"Enter."
The moment they stepped inside, Lyra immediately recognized the senior sitting behind the desk.
Cedric Arthen looked up from several stacks of documents before blinking once in recognition.
"...You two."
Amy smiled brightly.
"Good afternoon, senior."
Cedric leaned back slightly afterward.
"I assume this is not a social visit."
"That depends," Amy replied seriously. "Do you enjoy listening to academic suffering?"
"...Moderately."
Lyra almost respected that answer.
Amy quickly explained the situation afterward.
The overlapping schedules.
The impossible distances.
The dual division attendance.
Cedric listened quietly throughout the entire explanation without interrupting once.
Eventually, he nodded.
"I was wondering when this problem would appear."
Lyra frowned.
"You already knew?"
"You are the first dual-affinity student attending both divisions in years," Cedric replied calmly. "The administration focused more on admitting you than preparing for the consequences afterward."
That sounded alarmingly believable.
"So what should I do?" Lyra asked.
Cedric thought quietly for a moment before answering.
"...There is someone better suited to handling this."
Amy immediately smiled knowingly.
Lyra suddenly disliked where this was going.
Cedric calmly continued.
"If anyone can solve this scheduling disaster properly," he said, "it's Kaelen."
Silence.
Amy looked entirely unsurprised.
Meanwhile, Lyra stared at Cedric in complete disbelief.
Of all possible people—
unfortunately—
it had to be someone from Black Crest.
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