Noah sat quietly in his dorm room, staring at the pale light leaking through the curtains.
The window was half open.
A breeze pushed through lazily, making the pages of a book on his desk flip gently.
It was peaceful. Oddly so.
But inside his head, everything felt like a storm that hadn’t passed.
It had been a few days since he’d returned to his room.
That’s how long he had been unconscious.
He leaned back into the hard wooden chair beside his desk.
Fingers twitching slightly as he remembered how they trembled when he first tried to sit up in that bed.
The healers had looked at him like a miracle.
Whispered to themselves when they thought he wasn’t listening.
One of them had cried when they realized he wasn’t dying anymore.
But that wasn’t what was important.
The mid-term exams had been cancelled.
Well, postponed, at first.
But eventually cancelled in the form they were meant to take. Google seaʀᴄh 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩~𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢~𝔫𝔢𝔱
The academy’s announcement came only a day after he was moved out of the infirmary and back into his dorm.
Noah still remembered how it was worded:
"Due to an unexpected and deeply unfortunate incident involving a high-ranking student and external parties tied to a noble household, the originally scheduled mid-term assessments have been altered. A revised sit-in paper examination has been conducted for first and second years jointly. Practical exams have been waived temporarily."
Right. A high-ranking student.
An instructor attacked by Black Vassals from the Ashbourne House.
The very family that had funded entire wings of the academy library, d rare tomes, and secured elite-level instructors from across the continent.
There was no need to name him.
Everyone already knew.
The dormitory whispers were endless.
Most of the students still hadn’t seen him since his return.
He didn’t leave his room unless absolutely necessary.
Food was brought to him by a few silent staff who didn’t ask questions.
For a day or two he wondered what happened to his personal maid Mari.
Had the Ashbournes removed her of all duties from him since he was no longer a member of that household?
Not even the instructors stopped by anymore.
But what haunted him more than the silence was the official letter that arrived two days ago.
It was from the Academy Council.
"To Mister Noah Ashbourne,
After due consideration regarding your physical and mental condition, and due to the nature of the incident involving you and external threats tied to your family, the Council has decided to release you from your temporary instructional duties assigned to the first-year cohort.
Please understand this decision is not one of punishment, but of concern for your long-term recovery. You will receive all due recognition for your contributions during the period in which you taught—including teaching credits, merit points applicable to your academic ranking, and priority placement in future internships with partnered guilds and magic associations.
Additionally, a financial compensation has been added to your record in accordance with Clause 14-B, Protection of Faculty-in-Training.
Your formal instructor status has been closed, and your name has been removed from the active board. A new instructor, Professor Mira Velryn, has been appointed for the first-year cohort effective immediately."
Noah exhaled slowly, leaning forward and running a hand through his hair.
It had all been wrapped up so cleanly.
Dismissed, but politely.
Rewarded, but quietly removed.
The truth was simple: they didn’t want someone with his "baggage" teaching anymore.
The compensation was decent.
Instructor credit meant he’d gain merits equivalent to three top-ranking exams, plus additional points depending on his class’s previous performance.
It also meant access to higher-level coursework and research material before others his age.
The internship benefits weren’t bad either.
Priority invites to guild programs, early access to magical contract simulations, a few name drops into association-led expeditions.
He stood from his chair slowly and walked to the edge of the room, staring down at the students training in the distant courtyard.
Even from the fifth floor, he could hear the faint cries of spellcasters in practice.
Life at Ravenwood hadn’t stopped.
He turned to the mirror near his bed, taking in his appearance.
Dark bags still shadowed his eyes.
His skin, though no longer deathly pale, had lost its former glow.
He still couldn’t use mana.
Not in the way he used to.
Every attempt fizzled out.
Every spell, no matter how basic, refused to take root.
His system interface hadn’t appeared once since he woke up.
It was like someone had unplugged him from the network of reality he’d once been bound to.
He clenched his fist.
The last month had been a blur.
Waking up in that bed, seeing the tear-streaked face of Professor Scarlett leaning over him.
She hadn’t said much, only something about the world needing him still.
He didn’t believe that.
The dorm room felt colder than usual tonight.
He wasn’t sure if it was the weather or just him.
He pulled a folded parchment from the desk drawer and looked at the notes he’d scribbled in the early hours when sleep wouldn’t come.
Disowned. Official. Papers signed in front of the Imperial Court.
Monetary share received. Transferred to personal storage at Bronzegate Vault.
Family ties: Severed.
Runes on body (still active). Possible residual code from game route?
Curse status: inactive? (Possibly reset after Witch encounter)
Academy: Still enrolled. Merits intact. Rank unaffected.
Mid-Term: Passed by proxy. Contributions as instructor credited.
No longer instructor.
No active status. No obligations.
He stared at the last line for a while.
But it felt... hollow.
He placed the parchment back into the drawer and sat on the bed.
The letter from the Academy Council was still neatly placed on the nightstand.
He could have burned it.
Could have tossed it out the window.
His mind drifted to the exam.
He hadn’t sat for it and didn’t need to.
His contributions as an instructor had been enough.
Class performance metrics
Participation in field testing and expedition training
Contributions during monster extermination in Section C
Assisting in formation design and spell theory correction
All of it had stacked nicely into a formal exemption.
He wasn’t sure if students resented him for it or pitied him.
Either way, no one had come to speak to him yet.
Not even Professor Scarlett since she walked him back to his dorm.
The only person who had sent a letter was Draven.
"I’m glad you’re alive...We’ll talk when you’re ready."
Noah turned his eyes to the ceiling.
A minute later the door to his dorm room opened and a figure stepped inside.
Who he saw made his insides churn, it was a feeling akin to a single light match lit up in a completely dark room.