Three days after the first lessons, Regort had lost its alien feel. In the Phoenixes dormitory, the morning sun streamed through the large glass window, illuminating the red banners hanging over each student's bed.
Rissy was the first to wake, sitting up to stretch and draw the curtains. Golden light spilled onto the vaulted ceiling etched with the symbol of the soaring phoenix.
"Neval, wake up. The school bell rings in five minutes."
The reply was a faint snore. Juston, across the room, mumbled, "Let him sleep a bit longer, he was reading a spellbook all night."
"I'd let him," Rissy smiled, "but if he wakes up late, he'll miss breakfast."
Immediately, Neval jolted awake as if startled by a charm.
In the dining hall, the atmosphere was lively. Phoenixes was known as the House with the most laughter, and Rissy—despite being a new student—quickly blended into the rhythm.
"Eating pumpkin porridge again, Juston?"
"It's good, though."
"I thought yesterday you said you'd turn into a pumpkin if you ate any more?"
"Well... I changed my mind."
Juston's calm answer made the whole table erupt in laughter. Even Rissy shook her head, her eyes gentle yet mischievous.
Scaffil—the eldest in the group—sat at the head of the table, his voice low: "Finish eating, then go to the practice grounds. We have internal tryouts in the next few days."
"Trials again..." Neval groaned softly.
"We need trials to be selected for the Phoenixes Magic team, stop complaining," Rissy propped her chin on her hand, smiling lightly. "If you make it, I bet you'd scream across the school."
"Well... maybe," Neval scratched his head, half shy, half excited.
"But do you even know anything about Regort Magic?" Lena asked, her tone both sarcastic and probing.
"Of course... I do," Neval replied loudly, yet unconvincingly.
"Then try telling us," Lena challenged him mockingly. Her eyes were certain, as she clearly knew the details of Regort Magic.
"It's a competition... um..." Neval hesitated, as he knew nothing about it.
"So you don't know. You're all talk," Lena said.
"Well, do you know?" Neval shot back. He figured the red-haired girl wouldn't know either.
"Regort Magic is a magic competition. It's like a wizarding exam but selects the five best students from each House to compete. It includes all students from every House and has no age restrictions. There will be four teams: Phoenixes Magic, Foxly Magic, Eaglie Magic, and Serpentis Magic. The competition has two rounds. Round one: each team competes separately. The Academy releases hideous-looking monsters for each House to fight. Although their magic is harmless, it typically causes a headache that lasts for half an hour. Therefore, team members must defend themselves and attack it. Round two: the finals. In this round, all four Houses compete on the same field. The objective is to fight the Round 1 monsters and simultaneously retrieve a cup beneath a dragon's feet. While retrieving the cup, everyone must dodge the dragon's fire. Its fire is not lethal but causes such disorientation that it takes over two minutes to return to normal. The House whose members retrieve the cup first wins. Usually, Round 1 takes place after two months, followed by Round 2."
Neval gaped, astonished that Lena knew the competition rules so thoroughly.
"How do you know all that?"
"It's in the book about the school's history. I borrowed it to read in my free time," Lena replied with a confident look.
"Looks like Neval lost this round," Juston laughed, teasing his orange-haired friend.
Afternoon at Regort
In the afternoon, Professor Roven's class began with a lecture on ancient magical treasures—stones containing the spiritual power of the four founding Houses.
When the Professor held up the Phoenixes stone, a red-orange light filled the classroom. Rissy squinted slightly from the glare, but Lena, sitting next to her, gently retracted her hand, hiding it beneath the desk.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine... just a slight eye strain."
Rissy looked closely—a faint gray ash flashed on the back of Lena's hand, but in the blink of an eye, the light vanished as if it had never been there.
In the evening
That evening, snow began to fall lightly around the school grounds. In the dorm, the group gathered by the fireplace. Rissy sat cross-legged, holding a hot cup of cocoa, listening to Neval recount his first spell that accidentally blew up a pot of porridge. The others burst into laughter.
"You are a magical disaster."
"At least I managed to cast a spell!" Neval retorted.
"Yeah, you managed to... blow things up."
Rissy said calmly, and the group laughed again.
"Let's play something," Juston suggested, changing the subject. He was getting bored sitting still.
Rissy propped her chin on her hand, her voice excited: "Let's play guess-the-spell! Losers get a penalty!"
Neval looked around: "What kind of penalty?"
Neval looked around, cautious:
"Whose question?"
"Lena's, of course."
She squinted, thinking, then asked in a gentle, joking voice:
"If you had to choose between extra study hours with Professor Enrid, or scrubbing the kitchen floor for a week—what would you choose?"
Neval burst out laughing:
"Easy. Scrubbing the kitchen is quicker than listening to Professor Enrid drone out every single word of the incantation."
The group roared with laughter, even Scaffil chuckled softly, his voice low:
"Well, Phoenixes, you certainly know how to keep your spirits up... both when playing and when being penalized."
"So you don't like Professor Enrid's class then?" Lena probed Neval.
"That's right! It's so boring, I could die of sleep in there," Neval responded, his mood dipping when mentioning it.
The whole room burst into laughter.
Just then, the sound of heavy, clomping footsteps echoed in the corridor outside, causing a strangely abrupt silence in the entire dormitory. Everyone looked toward the dorm door, their eyes unblinking and afraid to look away.
The footsteps sounded heavy and somewhat annoyed.
Lena lowered her voice:
"Who is walking out there?"
Neval grimaced and shook his head:
"I-I don't know."
Juston scratched his head:
"Isn't it too late now? What Professor would be coming here?"
The door opened. A figure with an icy expression walked in, their robe sweeping the floor. Professor Enrid. Wasn't it quite late? For someone who usually woke up early, he should have been asleep by now. The entire dormitory lowered their gazes.
He stood with his arms crossed, frowning:
"Do you students realize how late it is?"
Scaffil stepped forward:
"We apologize for this."
"The entire Phoenixes House laughing loudly in the middle of the night? Quite lively, and also very ignorant," Professor Enrid's voice, like sharp blades, rang out.
"We didn't mean to," Scaffil continued to explain to him.
"Then tell me, what kept you awake and laughing in the middle of the night like this?"
Professor Enrid's question left Scaffil unable to explain.
Neval saw this and spoke up:
"It was trivial matters, sir."
Enrid turned to look at Neval, his lip curling:
"Then can you explain those trivial matters yourself?"
Rissy whispered to Lena:
"Why is the Professor asking so many questions?"
Lena only shook her head slightly, and both secretly glanced back at the Professor.
"I will forgive you this time. Do not let this happen again," He glanced at the students, then strode away, his black robe vanishing down the cold corridor.
The whole Phoenixes dormitory let out a long sigh of relief. They looked at each other and chuckled.
"Oh man, my heart was pounding when the Professor walked in," Neval said.
Juston chimed in:
"I thought the Professor heard everything."
Scaffil said:
"Lucky he was a little forgiving. Next time anything happens, speak softly, don't make loud noises, understand?!"
"Understood!"
The entire dormitory shouted out loud, then laughed at each other again. Night fell, and they returned to their beds after a tiring day of studying.
Night descended, leaving only the moonlight shining through the windows, carried on the chilling gusts of wind blowing through the night air.