Arcane Heir: History's Strongest Mage

"Well, here's your dorm room. You'll find your supplies for classes and brand-new uniforms inside," the violet sprite explained, hovering in front of the door with a faint buzz. "Remember, the feast begins in less than two hours—don't be late."

With that, she zipped away, leaving the three of them standing outside their new quarters.

Michael, being closest, stepped forward to open the door. He cast a brief glance at Melody, who stood beside him with an expression that could curdle milk. Ever since learning she'd be sharing a room—with two men, no less—her mood had sunk into unmistakable gloom.

The door swung open to reveal a spacious common area. A fireplace crackled to the right, radiating a welcoming warmth that painted the lounge and nearby chairs in a soft, golden glow.

A sturdy table stood nearby, surrounded by four high-backed chairs. Bookcases lined portions of the walls, while tasteful décor gave the place an almost aristocratic charm.

Three doors marked the far edges of the room—likely their separate bedrooms. Clearly, their examination results had earned them one of Arcadia's more luxurious accommodations. Talent and ability, it seemed, outweighed social standing here. Even so, both he and Rudy were still regarded as commoners, despite Michael's… complicated "engagement" to Melody.

"Whoa! Is that a fireplace?!" Rudy blurted, striding in like an excited child.

Michael turned to Melody and offered a small, polite smile. "After you," he said.

She gave a quiet harrumph but stepped inside first. Michael could tell, however, that her earlier irritation had softened.

He followed her in, letting his gaze wander over the inviting space. Rudy was already sprawled on the plush lounge near the fire, soaking in a luxury he'd probably never known.

Drawn by the soft drape of curtains, Michael crossed to a large window. Pulling them aside, he took in the view—rolling green hills that faded into a distant line of towering trees. Being on the first floor afforded a clear sight of the well-kept open fields below, likely used for classes that couldn't be contained within stone walls.

"Let's check out the rooms!" Rudy announced, already losing interest in the fireplace.

Michael raised a hand. "Hold on—let's allow the lady to choose her room first."

"Ah… yeah, I guess you're right," Rudy replied, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward laugh.

"Thanks," Melody said with a faint chirp of appreciation before heading toward the nearest door. She returned moments later, closing it with a snap and a faint flush in her cheeks.

"That's the bathroom," she muttered.

"Ah, good. I need to take a shit," Rudy said with a relieved grin, making a beeline for the door.

The moment it slammed shut, Melody shot Michael a glare sharp enough to pierce armor. Her meaning was clear.

Michael sighed, long and low. I'll have to teach him some manners sooner rather than later. He waved her off. "Just go pick your room—I'll deal with him."

Thankfully, she didn't argue. Without a word, she turned toward the next door, leaving Michael alone by the hearth.

So this is home for the next year? Michael thought, his gaze sweeping over the common area. The space was cozy—warm in a way that reminded him of home. Or rather, the Winterborne manor, where he had spent the past three years.

Of course, it wouldn't feel the same without Shirley. Still, with so many people nearby, perhaps he wouldn't be lonely.

I hope she's doing okay… His eyes lingered on the crackling fireplace, its orange tongues dancing lazily over blackened logs.

"Ah, much better," Rudy announced, emerging from the bathroom with a satisfied grin. "First time I've used a magic toilet. Makes things so much easier."

Michael arched a brow. "Did you wash your hands?"

Rudy froze mid-step. "Oh—whoops. I always forget." He spun back toward the bathroom.

Michael's expression darkened. He recalled shaking Rudy's callused hand only minutes ago. A flicker of heat flared around his hand as a small fire spell burned away any trace of contamination.

"I'll be taking this room," Melody said abruptly from a nearby doorway. "You two can bunk in the other one."

Before Michael could respond, she shut the door with a decisive click.

"Bunk?" he muttered under his breath.

The meaning became clear soon enough.

The last bedroom held two four-poster beds positioned on opposite sides of the room. Each was outfitted with rich purple drapes, providing a semblance of privacy.

"Aww, I was hoping for a bunk bed," Rudy lamented with a click of his tongue. "Oh well—can't complain, I guess."

He didn't wait for Michael's reply. With a whoop, he dashed across the room and launched himself onto a bed, disappearing into the soft folds of the blankets. His carefree laughter rang out, bright and unguarded.

But Michael didn't smile, his expression dark and weathered. It was far too tragic for a child of only thirteen.

Had I ever laughed like that? The question dug into him. Had I ever been so free of worry?

If he had, the memory was gone.

Even as a child, isolation had been his constant companion. He had been the hidden shame of the Aurelius family—the unwanted shadow his father kept out of sight. If not for his mother's insistence—his father, Lord Aurelius might never have let him leave his room, fearing the stain on his reputation.

And yet here was Rudy, a commoner, finding joy in something as simple as having his own bed. The contrast was almost bitterly amusing. Born a noble, Michael had endured a childhood emptier than this boy's.

And that was without even considering what had happened to his family after that fateful day three years ago. Just thinking about it brought him pain.

"Oh, sweet! We got uniforms!" Rudy's head popped out from between the bed's purple curtains, waving the garments in triumph.

Without another word, he peeled off his shirt and began undressing in a rush.

That's when Michael saw it.

His expression hardened instantly, a wave of sudden, cold repulsion tightening his chest.