CHAPTER 4: “The Smile and the Flame”
(Journal of Veik, Third-Class Student — Day 22)
I thought I was being sneaky.
Same courtyard, different time. Afternoon break, nice weather. I told myself I wasn’t stalking—I was observing. That’s not creepy, right?
Towan sat alone under one of the courtyard trees, chewing on something and throwing breadcrumbs at a bird that was too afraid to come closer. Typical.
He looked… normal. Not glowing. Not growling. Just a dude eating his lunch.
And I thought: Okay. This time for real.
I took one step forward.
“You’ve been staring at him for like three days, you know.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
She was just—there. Leaning next to me like she’d been spawned from the breeze.
Alira. Crimson hair in a messy braid, casual smile, sleeves rolled up like she was about to bake a cake or blow up a castle. Could go either way.
“I—I wasn’t—”
“Totally were,” she said, grinning. “It’s okay. I do it too. But I’m hotter, so I get away with it.”
I stood there like an idiot, trying to form words that didn’t include “I’m not a stalker, I swear.”
She waved it off.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You wanna ask him for tips.”
I nodded. Slowly. Shamefully.
“But then you saw him bench press a boulder with one hand and decided maybe you liked breathing.”
How is she reading my entire soul.
We sat down on the stone bench.
She offered me a dried fruit stick. I took it like a starving dog.
“You know,” she said, “I get it.”
I blinked.
“First time I met Sylra? Thought she was gonna judge me into nonexistence. She’s all ‘precise movement’ and ‘noble posture’ and ‘here, your fire form is inefficient trash.’”
“I laughed so hard I coughed on my own flame.”
“So what’d you do?” I asked.
“Talked to her anyway. Didn’t take me four days, though,” she smirked.
“Thanks.”
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“I’m teasing,” she said. “Look, everyone in First Class? We all seem scary at first. Towan especially. Big heart. Bigger fists. But if he didn’t want people asking for help, he wouldn’t spar with Deyar like twenty times a week.”
“He always seems… like he’s on the edge of something. Y’know? Like, if you push him wrong—he’ll just snap.”
Alira’s expression changed. Just for a moment. Just long enough.
“You’re not wrong,” she said. “He is on the edge.”
She plucked a blade of grass and twirled it between her fingers.
“But he only snaps when someone hurts people he loves. So unless you punch Elliot in the face or insult Rellie’s hair... you’re fine.”
“And even if you did, he’d probably just break your ribs. Nothing fatal.”
We sat in silence a moment.
The bird finally approached Towan’s crumbs. Towan smiled and didn’t move.
“He’s not just strong,” I said. “He’s… safe. Until he’s not.”
Alira nodded.
“That’s exactly it,” she said. “He chooses to be gentle. That’s what makes him scary.”
As I got up to leave, Alira looked at me.
“Tomorrow,” she said. “Ask him. Worst case? He teaches you something and you cry a little.”
“Thanks, Alira.”
“No problem, Veik the Brave.”
“…That’s not my title.”
“It is now,” she grinned. “Claim it before someone else does.”
Note to self:
Bring snacks for Alira. She’s terrifying, but I think she’d share her death cookies with me if I asked nicely.
Also: Tomorrow. No more watching. Time to ask.
CHAPTER 5: “The Ask”
(Journal of Veik, Third-Class Student — Day 23)
I did it.
I actually did it.
No fainting. No retreating behind a tree. No pretending I was “just walking past” for the fifth time.
I asked Towan for help.
And I’m still alive.
Sort of.
It was early again. I didn’t mean for it to be—I just couldn’t sleep. Too much buzzing in my brain. Too many excuses lining up like little cowards.
But then I remembered what Alira said.
“He chooses to be gentle.”
And somehow, that helped.
So I grabbed my practice gloves, dragged my wobbly courage out the door, and walked straight to the First-Class training field like I belonged there.
Spoiler: I didn’t.
But I saw him. Towan. Alone this time. Shadowboxing shirtless under the morning light like a friendly war god.
I opened my mouth.
My throat tried to close.
But I forced it out:
“Hey! Uh—Towan?”
He paused mid-swing, turned.
And smiled.
“Yo. Veik, right?”
He knew my name.
My brain blue-screened for half a second. Then I nodded.
“Y-Yeah. I… I suck at hand-to-hand. My stance is all wrong and I—I was wondering if you could maybe…”
“You want some help?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome,” he said. “Let’s fix your feet first. Come on.”
Just like that.
No judgment. No condescension. Just… help.
He made me square up, had me throw a few punches, then stepped behind me and adjusted my elbow like he was guiding a younger brother.
He corrected gently. Patiently. Explained things in the dumb metaphors I actually understood.
“Imagine your legs are springs, yeah? Don’t lock them. If they’re stiff, you’re just asking to eat the floor.”
“Your hand’s trying to reach the punch. Let it follow the punch, not chase it.”
He even let me hit him.
Not hard—he told me, “Don’t worry, I’ll survive.” But when my fist landed against his arm, it felt like punching a slab of laughter-coated granite.
We trained for an hour.
He didn’t make fun of me when I messed up.
He didn’t hold back advice just because I was Third-Class.
He didn’t treat me like a student.
He treated me like a fighter.
At the end, I sat down, sweating, probably dying a little, and said:
“I thought you’d be scarier.”
He grinned, handed me his water bottle.
“Nah. I save that for people who hurt my friends.”
And that was it.
The monster I’d been avoiding? The one whose stare made Sevren shrink, whose power bent the air?
He taught me how to pivot better. And made me laugh while doing it.
Note to self:
Monsters aren’t always the ones roaring the loudest.
Sometimes they’re the ones who smile when they hit you with truth.
And sometimes… they’re the ones who train you like you matter.
“They called them First-Class like it was just a ranking.
But I’ve seen the way they move. The way they stand. The way they fight.
They’re not students. They’re warnings to the rest of us.”
“And the scariest one of all?
Is the one who’ll teach you how to fight.
And make you want to be better just to stand beside him.”