The dormitory kitchen was glowing with soft lantern light, the scent of melted chocolate and roasted nuts filling the air. Lior stood at the counter in a flowing blue dress, her hair tied loosely, cheeks flushed from laughter. Around her, Keal, Jex, Thorne, and Kira were elbow-deep in bowls, spoons, and flour—each one contributing to what was supposed to be a simple dessert.
But nothing about this moment was simple.
"Thorne, that's not whipped cream—that's butter!" Kira cried, half-laughing, half-panicking as Thorne proudly plopped a thick lump onto the cake.
Thorne blinked. "Wait… it's not the same?"
Lior burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "You were so confident! You even winked at the butter!"
Keal, holding a piping bag, smirked. "I think the cake's cursed now. Should we call the Archsage?" Keal joke
Jex leaned over the counter, inspecting the mess. "This dessert looks like it survived a battle in Lithzaruun." he joke
Lior laughed harder, nearly dropping the bowl she was stirring. "Stop! I can't breathe!"
From the couch nearby, four girls—Asha, Nira, Solen, and Veyra—watched the chaos unfold. They were roommates of Lior and Kira, and their expressions ranged from amused to bewildered.
Asha raised an eyebrow. "Is this what black magic users do on their day off?"
Nira giggled. "I thought they summoned shadows, not sugar storms."
Solen, sipping tea, smiled. "Honestly, I've never seen Lior laugh this much. It's kind of beautiful."
Veyra nodded, eyes soft. "She looks… free."
Back at the counter, Kira tried to salvage the frosting, while Keal sneakily added sprinkles shaped like tiny stars.
"Keal, those are for potion decoration!" Kira scolded.
"They're magical. Maybe they'll fix the taste," he replied with a wink.
Lior leaned against the counter, still laughing, her blue dress swaying as she moved. "This is the worst dessert I've ever seen—and I love it."
Thorne held up the final product: a lopsided cake with uneven layers, glittering sprinkles, and a mysterious green swirl in the middle.
"Behold," he declared. "The Elemental Disaster Cake."
Everyone burst into laughter again, even the girls on the couch.
Jex raised a spoon like a sword. "For honor and sugar!"
Lior wiped tears from her eyes, smiling widely. "I needed this. Thank you."
The room glowed—not just from lanterns, but from the warmth of shared joy. The cake may have been a disaster, but the moment was perfect.
The cake stood proudly on the counter—if "proudly" meant leaning slightly to the left, dripping with mismatched frosting, and sparkling with potion-grade sprinkles. The green swirl in the center pulsed faintly, as if it had a heartbeat.
Thorne squinted at it. "Is it… breathing?"
Keal leaned in dramatically. "If it starts talking, I'm naming it Crumble."
Jex poked the side with a spoon. "It's soft. But also… suspiciously firm. Like it's hiding secrets."
Kira sighed, wiping flour from her cheek. "This cake has more personality than half the students in Elemental Theory."
Lior laughed so hard she had to sit down. "I swear, if it casts a spell when we cut it, I'm retiring from magic."
Asha, still watching from the couch, called out, "You should name it 'Cake of Shadows.' It looks like it came from a prophecy."
Nira added, "Or 'The Forbidden Frosting.' Only the brave may taste."
Solen raised her teacup. "To the dessert that defies logic."
Veyra giggled. "I think it's staring at me."
Thorne held up a fork like a wand. "I summon thee, Cake of Chaos! Reveal thy flavor!"
Keal snorted. "Flavor? It's probably betrayal."
Jex nodded solemnly. "I bet it tastes like regret and glitter."
Lior wiped tears from her eyes, still laughing. "Okay, okay—before we eat it, we need to prepare emotionally."
Kira held up a spoon. "I've prepared a healing spell. Just in case."
Thorne took a deep breath. "If I disappear after one bite, tell my plants I loved them."
Keal grinned. "If I gain elemental powers from this cake, I'm naming myself Sprinklelord."
Jex raised an eyebrow. "If you grow a second head, I'm not sharing my bed."
Lior stood again, cheeks glowing, her blue dress catching the light. "This cake may be cursed, chaotic, and possibly sentient—but it was made with love. And butter. Lots of butter."
Everyone laughed again—uncontrollably, joyfully, the kind of laughter that echoed through the dormitory like music.
"Okay," Lior said, giggling, "who's brave enough to take the first bite?"
Thorne raised his hand dramatically. "If I perish, tell the Archsage it was for dessert diplomacy."
Everyone laughed.
Just as Kira sliced the first piece, a knock echoed through the room.
Just as Kira sliced the first piece, a knock echoed through the room.
They froze. Looking at each other as if to ask if they were expecting anyone.
Lior turned toward the door, still smiling from the joke. But when she opened it, her expression shifted—her joy vanished, replaced by quiet shock.
Standing outside were the five royalties.
Yrion, Terren, Glacielle, Quirel, and Thalmyra. No magic. No anger. Just solemn eyes and hesitant postures.
But their solemnity faltered.
Lior, cheeks dusted with flour and a streak of icing across her brow, blinked at them. Behind her, Keal's hair was spiked with whipped cream, Jex had a frosting mustache, and Kira's aura shimmered through a veil of powdered sugar.
The royalties stared.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Yrion's brows lifted, his fire dimmed not just by intention but by sheer disbelief. Terren's lips twitched. Glacielle pressed a hand to her mouth. Quirel looked away, biting the inside of his cheek. Thalmyra blinked rapidly, her voice catching in her throat.
They were trying—valiantly—not to laugh.
Lior's voice was flat. "What are you doing here?"
Yrion stepped forward, clearing his throat. "We came to talk. No spells. No accusations."
Behind Lior, her friends stood like frosting-splattered guardians. Keal crossed his arms, sending a puff of flour into the air. Jex narrowed his eyes, the icing dripping from his chin. Kira's aura flickered, ready to shield, her sugar-dusted hands clenched.
The royalties blinked again, visibly shaken—not by magic, but by the surreal tableau before them.
"We're not here to fight," Thalmyra said softly. "We…" She paused, her lips twitching. "We were wrong."
Her voice cracked slightly, not from emotion, but from the effort of suppressing a laugh.
Lior didn't respond. Her eyes scanned each of them, unreadable.
Terren lowered his head. "We let fear speak louder than truth."
Glacielle stepped forward, her voice quiet. "We judged you for your magic. Not your actions."
Quirel added, "We forgot what trust looks like."
Still, Lior said nothing. Her friends remained silent too, unsure whether to believe them.
Minutes passed. The royalties didn't leave. They stood there, awkward and sincere, letting the silence speak—while trying not to snort at the frosting slowly sliding down Jex's nose.
Finally, Solen whispered from behind, "Lior… they're trying."
Lior's gaze softened, just slightly. She looked at Yrion, who had always been the loudest in his anger. Now, he looked tired. Honest.
"You hurt us," Lior said, voice low. "You accused us. You attacked us."
Yrion nodded. "And we're sorry."
Lior's fingers curled around the edge of the door. Her shadows didn't rise. Her magic stayed still.
"You didn't believe us," Keal said, stepping beside her. "Why should we believe you now?"
"Because we're here," Terren said. "Not as royalties. Just… people who made a mistake."
Lior looked at her friends. Kira gave a small nod. Jex shrugged. Thorne sighed. Keal stayed quiet.
Then, slowly, Lior stepped aside.
"Come in," she said.
The royalties entered, unsure, glancing around the cozy dorm. The cake still sat on the table, untouched.
Lior returned to her seat, her blue dress flowing behind her. She looked at the cake, then at the guests.
"Sit," she said. "If you're sincere… then share this disaster cake with us."
Yrion blinked. "Disaster cake?"
Thorne grinned. "It's cursed. But in a good way."
Everyone laughed—softly at first, then louder. Even Glacielle smiled.
As they sat together, the tension melted like sugar in tea. Lior's laughter returned, bright and real. Her friends relaxed. The four girls watched with quiet joy.
The laughter came slowly at first—awkward, uncertain. But then it bloomed.
Yrion chuckled at Jex's frosting mustache. Glacielle teased Keal about his whipped cream crown. Even Thalmyra, usually composed, giggled when Kira flicked a puff of flour her way.
The room, once tense with silence, now pulsed with shared breath and softened edges. The air smelled of sugar and healing.
Lior watched them, arms crossed, but her stance had shifted—less defense, more curiosity. Her friends, still dusted in chaos, began to smile. Not because they trusted yet, but because something had cracked open.
The royalties had come with solemn eyes and heavy words. But now they saw the truth not in speeches, but in the mess. In the icing. In the laughter. In the way Keal nudged Jex, and Kira's aura shimmered like a protective wing.
They had judged Lior by her power, her defiance, her difference. But now they saw her people. Their softness. Their joy. Their loyalty.
And in the corner, one royalty never looked away.
Terren's gaze lingered—not on the room, not on the laughter, but on Kira. Her light, even dulled by sugar and surprise, was radiant. She laughed with her whole body, eyes bright, aura flickering like starlight.
To him, she was the only person in the room.
Lior caught the glance. Said nothing. But her lips curved, just slightly.
Meanwhile, Yrion's eyes never left Lior.
He didn't laugh. Not fully. His lips curved, but his gaze was sharp—not hostile, but searching. Suspicious. Familiar.
As if he'd seen her before. Not just in battle, but in somewhere. In flame. In the quiet places where truth hides.
Lior met his stare, steady and unreadable. She didn't flinch. Didn't smile. But something passed between them—a flicker of knowing, like two stars recognizing each other across a dark sky.
The others kept laughing. The cake was passed. The night stretched on.
But beneath the jokes and crumbs, something else had begun.
Terren's quiet awe. Yrion's silent question. Lior's guarded grace. Kira's unknowing glow.
And for the first time since the fight, the room didn't just feel whole.
It felt like the beginning of something mythic.
And for the first time since the fight, the room felt whole.