With the new morning, someone had become famous in the whole academy.
Every corridor he walked through buzzed with stifled laughter and mocking glances.
His freshly shaven scalp gleamed under the light, each snicker slicing into him like a blade.
Ugly—that was the word written on every whisper.
He tried to laugh it off and say he wanted to trim his hair, but it didn't go well, and he decided to shave it all off.
It was a silly excuse, but that was his only way to stay safe.
An illusory safety.
No one believed such a lie.
Sitting together at lunch, they ate quietly as whispers filled the place.
If not for the fact that he was with Aramith and Mozrael, the two strongest students in the academy, they would have been bold with their comments.
"I wish I had nice hair like you two," Aris said nervously.
Aramith didn't respond, but Mozrael frowned.
"If you want hair, then why do you cut it?"
Aris hesitated.
"I...didn't do it intentionally," he replied.
