Chapter 2: Staying Invisible
The massive doors groaned as he pushed them open, the sound echoing through the entrance.
He stepped into the Orientation Hall and froze.
The place was enormous. High stone arches curved overhead, covered with faint glowing runes that cast cool blue light across everything. Rows of tiered stone benches rose up on both sides, already packed with hundreds of students in dark academy robes.
A wide central aisle cut straight down the middle, leading to a raised platform at the front. The air felt thick and heavy—charged with something he couldn't name. Like standing outside right before a thunderstorm.
He stood just inside the doorway, one hand still gripping the door frame.
A few heads turned toward him. Not many—just here and there. Some conversations dipped quiet for a second, then picked back up again.
Nobody stood.
No dramatic silence fell over the room.
It was just... normal. Busy. Students talking with friends, laughing, some scrolling through small glowing tablets.
He let out a slow breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Good. No announcement. No big scene.
The long purple hair fell forward as he started moving, brushing against his face.
He tucked it behind one ear awkwardly he still wasn't used to having long hair and walked down the aisle, eyes scanning for an empty seat.
Most benches were completely full, students squeezed shoulder to shoulder.
Then he spotted a narrow space near the very back, half-hidden in the shadows where the blue light barely reached.
Perfect.
He slipped into the spot quickly, keeping his head down and his movements small.
From here, he had a clear view of the platform without being too visible himself.
The same sharp-faced woman from before stood at the front, silver threads running through her dark hair catching the light.
Several other instructors sat in chairs behind her, all wearing the same serious expressions. Above them floated a massive glowing screen displaying the ranking list in bright letters.
Rank 01 – his new name, written in shining gold.
He stared at it for just a second, then forced himself to look away.
The woman began speaking, her voice carrying easily across the huge hall.
"Welcome to the new term. We'll begin with a brief review of the top ranks from the Final Trials, as tradition requires."
The list started scrolling slowly. A few students clapped politely when Rank 10 appeared. More scattered applause for Rank 05. By the time Rank 03 showed up, the hall was buzzing with excited whispers.
When Rank 01 flashed larger across the entire screen, the noise swelled—excited murmurs rippling through the crowd, a couple of loud cheers from students sitting up front.
He sank lower in his seat, trying to disappear into the shadows.
The woman glanced around the hall, her eyes sweeping across the sea of faces.
"Our top student appears to be running late," she said calmly. "Not to worry—we'll continue with the rest of orientation."
Laughter rippled through the crowd. Someone near the front—a boy with a carrying voice—shouted, "Probably still knocked out from the trials!"
More laughter echoed off the stone walls.
His face burned hot. He ducked his head lower, letting the purple hair fall forward like a curtain.
Running late was way better than being noticed. Way, way better.
The woman continued smoothly, covering all the important details. Rules and schedules. Combat Theory every morning in the East Wing.
Elemental Practice every afternoon in the training grounds. Ranking duels held on weekends—participation mandatory if you wanted to keep your position. Curfew at midnight sharp. No magic allowed in the residential dorms except designated practice areas.
He listened carefully this time, trying to memorize everything.
His old life hadn't prepared him for any of this, but at least he could learn the rules. Figure out what to avoid.
When she finally dismissed everyone, students stood in waves, filing out in noisy groups—friends calling to each other, making plans, complaining about the early morning classes.
He stayed in his seat, waiting.
The crowd thinned slowly. When only a handful of stragglers remained near the exits, he stood and slipped out with them—just another anonymous figure in dark robes.
No one approached him.
No one bowed or tried to talk to him.
No one even glanced at him twice.
Just another face lost in the sea of academy students.
He walked back toward his assigned quarters, purple hair falling forward again with each step. He pushed it back absently and let himself smile—tiny and shaky, but real.
Day one, and he'd managed to stay completely invisible.
Maybe he could actually keep this up.
Maybe he wouldn't get caught and exposed on his very first morning.
He reached his door, slipped inside quickly, and closed it firmly behind him. For a long moment, he just leaned against the wood with his eyes closed, heart still beating too fast.
The glowing tablet on his desk blinked with a new message.
He crossed the room and picked it up carefully.
CLASS SCHEDULE — FIRST DAY TOMORROW
Combat Theory • Elemental Foundations • History of Affinity
He stared at the glowing words until they blurred together.
Tomorrow he'd have to sit in actual classrooms. Surrounded by people who could use magic without even thinking about it. People who'd been training since they were children.
Tomorrow someone might ask him to demonstrate something basic. Something simple that any first-year student should know.
Tomorrow the real problems would begin.
But today?
Today he'd survived orientation without a single person actually speaking to him.
He sat on the edge of the narrow bed, running one hand through the unfamiliar purple strands, and let out a long, shaky breath.
One day down.
He still couldn't feel even a tiny spark of power inside this stolen body.
But at least nobody else knew that yet.
For now, that would have to be enough.