Transmigrated as My Support Mage Avatar

After all the teasing and laughter had finally faded, the two of them settled down. The night breeze whispered softly through the slightly open window, and the dim lamp beside the bed glowed with a warm tone.

Fran curled up beside Dila, her tail wrapping around her like a ribbon, while Dila lay on her side facing her. Despite Fran's usual playfulness, she was gentle now—resting her head against Dila's shoulder. Dila, still a little flustered from earlier, eventually gave up trying to push her away.

"Just… don't drool again this time," Dila murmured quietly.

Fran chuckled sleepily. "No promises, sister…" she mumbled, already half-asleep.

Dila sighed, a faint smile tugging her lips. "Hopeless cat…" she whispered softly before closing her eyes.

...

...

...

By the time morning arrived, sunlight streamed through the curtains, golden and warm. The academy bells rang faintly from afar, signaling a new day.

The maids soon entered the dorm, gently calling their names as they began preparing the room. Dila stirred first, her silver hair shining in the light, while Fran yawned and stretched like a cat beside her, tail flicking lazily.

After washing and changing into their academy uniforms, they left their dorm together, walking side by side in the hallway.

Eventually, they reached the main hall where students started to scatter toward their designated training school room areas. Fran gave Dila a grin and waved.

"See you later, sister! Try not to faint this time, okay?"

Dila rolled her eyes, smirking faintly. "Lol I'll try…."

Fran laughed, her voice echoing down the hall as she ran off to her assassin branch training, while Dila turned toward the mage division's corridor—ready to begin another day.

After Dila has settled to her classroom.

The classroom was filled with the soft hum of chatter as sunlight poured through the tall arched windows, scattering faint golden light across the desks. The faint scent of parchment and old ink lingered in the air.

Dila sat quietly near the back as usual, her silver hair softly gleaming under the light, staff resting beside her chair. Professor Galahad Turing had just entered, and everyone had respectfully greeted him—but the murmurs never stopped.

Her classmates, all nobles with their polished uniforms and proud composure, whispered from every corner. Some glanced her way with envy, others with awe and fear. Dila didn't react much. She was used to the murmurs. Her calm blue eyes simply followed the professor's movements, though her heart felt that familiar, quiet weight again.

Then—out of nowhere—Canopy leaned closer from the seat beside her, resting his chin on one hand with the most exaggerated sigh imaginable.

"Don't mind them, high princess," he said dramatically, loud enough that a few nearby students turned to look. "They're just jealous of your incredible magical power! You literally almost blew half the practice field last time—though… you also kind of blew yourself into unconsciousness and bloody mess."

Dila blinked, then slowly turned to him. "That's… not something to be proud of."

Canopy grinned, still half-whispering, half-bragging on her behalf. "Are you kidding? You went boom, sparkles everywhere, then collapsed like a majestic swan! Everyone was like 'oh no, the princess fainted,' and I was like—'behold, true art!'" although it's not the true reaction.

A few students snorted trying to hide their laughter.

Dila couldn't help but chuckle softly, covering her mouth. "You're hopeless…"

"Hopelessly Royal!" he corrected proudly, puffing his chest. "Also hopelessly afraid you'll do it again and take us with you next time!"

Dila shook her head, her smile faint but genuine. For a moment, the whispers around her faded away—the room felt lighter.

Even in the world of nobles and endless expectations, somehow, Canopy's ridiculousness always managed to make her feel a little more… normal.

Professor Galahad cleared his throat softly, tapping the edge of his staff against the wooden floor.

"Alright… hmm… students, focus on me now," he said in his calm, steady tone.

The room instantly shifted. The playful murmurs and small chuckles faded one by one as every student straightened up in their seats. Some quickly adjusted their collars, others pretended they weren't just gossiping a few seconds ago. The faint creak of chairs echoed across the marble floor as all eyes turned toward the front.

Dila straightened a little too, her fingers lightly brushing her staff as she looked ahead. Canopy leaned back, whispering just loud enough for her to hear, "Uh oh, the calm-before-the-storm voice. He's gonna start the hard stuff."

Dila gave him a tiny elbow on the arm, whispering, "Quiet."

Professor Galahad's lips curved into a small, knowing smile, as if he'd caught every single whisper in the room. He nodded once in approval, the faint light from the hanging crystal lamp above reflecting on his silver-rimmed glasses.

"Good," he said softly. "Now that everyone's awake… let's begin."

The quiet weight of discipline filled the air again, but somehow… it carried warmth. It wasn't fear—it was respect.

Professor Galahad cleared his throat again—this time slower, heavier, like something important was about to follow.

"Ahh… haaa… haaarmm." His voice echoed gently across the room as he straightened his papers. "Alright. Before our lesson begins… there's something I need to address."

The air shifted. Every student fell silent, their posture subtly tightening. Even the floating orbs of light above seemed to hum quieter, glowing dimmer as if listening too.

Galahad's eyes swept across the room before settling on Dila. His tone turned steady, but kind. "As you all know… Dila's father has personally contacted me. He reported that her magical power is… rather special."

A low murmur stirred among the students—some whispering behind their hands, others still simply glancing in awe or envy. Dila's fingers tensed around her staff as her eyes lowered slightly. Her heart beat faster… unease flickering behind her calm face.

Professor Galahad continued, raising his hand gently to quiet the room. "Now… I don't want any of you to harbor hate, jealousy, or doubt toward her. Her power is unique, yes—but it's also unstable and maybe difficult to control. Her father himself admitted that much."

Dila's lips pressed into a thin line. He knew. The thought struck her like ice. Her gaze wavered, a faint tremble running through her fingers. That old man must've known everything by now. Zeon… it must be him who reported to him that my magical power has restored.

Her chest tightened with irritation, but she stayed still, her expression faint and unreadable.

Professor Galahad's voice softened as he added, "Her father also said that she was sent here… to Twilight Academy… for a reason. To reignite her magical potential and rediscover her strength. And according to the message I received recently—" he paused, scanning his scroll, "—it seems her power has now fully returned."

The words struck Dila hard. A chill ran through her back, goosebumps rising as if the world around her had frozen for a moment. He really knows... she thought bitterly.

Galahad gave her a brief, thoughtful glance before continuing. "However… there's something else. The King of Eldor has expressed his intent to retrieve his daughter soon—once her magical power condition stabilizes."

The quiet in the classroom deepened.

Dila's eyes widened. Her breath hitched as she gripped the edge of her desk, knuckles paling. For a brief second, she almost stood up from her chair. Retrieve me...? No… not again...

Her pulse pounded in her ears as the professor's voice faded into background noise.

Then—his next words steadied her heartbeat again.

"However," Galahad said, adjusting his spectacles with a faint smile, "the King also stated he will allow her to stay for a while longer—to make friends, experience peace, and perhaps… finish her training. Whether it's just this semester or all four years, we cannot be certain. But for now, she remains one of us."

The tension in Dila's shoulders slowly melted. Her breath came back in small, quiet waves. She sat down properly again, exhaling softly.

That old bastard... she thought, eyes narrowing slightly. Persistent as ever. Always trying to pull the strings, aren't you?

But even so… the weight on her chest lightened a little. She wasn't being dragged away—at least, not yet.

Professor Galahad rolled back the scroll carefully, setting it aside with a faint click. "That's all the announcement I have," he said, his tone returning to its usual warmth. "Now then… shall we begin?"

The class slowly breathed again.

But Dila… sat quietly at the back, fingers tracing the smooth handle of her staff, her blue eyes flickering with a mixture of calm and quiet defiance.

You'll have to try harder than that, Father, she thought faintly. I'm not leaving… not yet until I prepared my plan.

Dila sat quietly, her gaze fixed on nothing in particular. Her fingers brushed the side of her chin as she leaned forward slightly, lost in thought.

Maybe I should plan my escape… she murmured inwardly, her eyes narrowing faintly. The flicker of light on the desk trembled along her silver lashes. Before the semester ends... before he comes for me. I won't let that old man... no, that so-called father—claim me again.

Her thoughts deepened, heavy and determined. All I care about is freedom. I don't care if he sends his knights or his spies, even if he searches to the edge of the earth… I'll avoid him. I'll run if I must.

The voices of her classmates blurred into soft, meaningless noise. The faint scratching of quills and the distant chime of magic crystals filled the room. But for Dila, it was like she was somewhere else entirely—already tracing invisible paths of escape in her mind.

Then a gentle voice rang inside her thoughts, light and familiar.

☆ Are you sure about that, master? ☆

Dila blinked slightly. Her eyes softened, lowering toward her desk. She didn't move her lips—just answered silently.

Are you not listening last night, Nari? she said inwardly, her tone calm but weary. As I told you… I'll try not to encounter him anymore. Not now. Not ever.

For a moment, there was only silence. The kind that lingered like a soft echo in her chest.

Then Nari's voice faded quietly, her tone unusually gentle, almost hesitant.

☆ ...I see. ☆

After that, she said nothing more.

And Dila, staring out the tall glass window beside her, watched the clouds drift over the academy courtyard—her expression calm on the surface, yet beneath it, her heart burned with a quiet storm of resolve.