The infirmary door clicked softly behind him as Lucien stepped out, the cool hallway air brushing against his skin. The nurse had been curt but firm, "You're discharged. Head back to your dorm and rest. No more trouble today—or ever. Got it?"
He nodded quietly, adjusting the sleeves of his uniform as he moved down the corridor. His steps grew slower, the longer he walked, weighed down by the uncertainty gnawing at him.
Where the hell do I find the dorms again?
The soft echo of footsteps bounced off the corridor walls just as a tall figure rounded the corner, whistling lightly. The figure nearly collided with Lucien, who was leaning stiffly against the cold stone, his pace sluggish.
"Lucien? Man, you look like you've been through hell. You alright?" the figure asked — tall and broad-shouldered, with messy, spiked blue hair and warm amber eyes filled with genuine concern.
Lucien blinked, caught off guard by the familiarity in the voice. Who the hell is this guy?
But he somehow kept his face expressionless. "I'm fine," he said coolly.
The man's gaze searched his features, clearly unconvinced. "You don't look fine. I've been worried. I haven't seen you all day—not in class, not in the dorm. What happened?"
Lucien's eyes drifted to a cracked window overlooking the courtyard, where a handful of students practiced magic beneath the fading sun. Is this guy my roommate or something?
He kept his tone calm. "Just tired."
They walked side by side, the scent of wood smoke and roasting meat rising from the cafeteria ahead, mingling with the low murmur of students.
The man exhaled, trying to sound casual but failing. "You should've told me if something was wrong! If those jerks were giving you trouble again, I swear, I'd deal with them myself."
Lucien raised a brow but remained silent.
This guy seems to know something about the bullies who attacked me earlier...
As they neared the cafeteria, voices grew louder, warm light spilling out from open doors. The guy grabbed two trays, piling them with bread, stew, and fruit. "Here. Eat something. You need it."
Lucien accepted one of the tray's wordlessly, his mind racing briefly. Why is he so concerned? And why do I feel like I should know him? He pushed the thoughts aside, knowing it wasn't the right moment to ask questions.
They settled at a quiet corner table by the window, soft sunlight streaming over them.
The guy smiled, breaking the silence. "So, you gonna tell me what's going on, or am I stuck guessing all day?"
Lucien met his gaze for a moment. "Suit yourself. But…" he hesitated, a faint glint sparking behind his eyes, "how about a game instead?"
The guy's eyes widened for a moment before he chuckled, relief softening his features. "Wow, you never liked playing games before. What kind of game?"
Lucien let out a small, amused breath. "A question game. We take turns asking questions. Whoever guesses right the most wins—and the loser owes the winner a prize."
Silence settled, broken only by the faint clinking of utensils and distant laughter.
The guy smirked and suddenly slammed his fist on the table, drawing surprised looks from nearby students—he didn't care though.
"Sounds perfect! You start." He exclaimed loudly, clearly excited.
A knowing grin spread across Lucien's face as he set down his fork and folded his hands. "First question—what's your name?"