The trials were no longer the center of Nalia's attention. While the rest of the stands held their breath at the explosion of power, she had her nose buried in the Codex of Beasts and Entities of the Ethereal Plane, Revised Edition, flipping pages with a speed that threatened to tear the paper.
"Index... High-Rank Familiars... Mammals..." she muttered to herself, isolated in her own academic self-absorption. Her gloved finger descended the list of creatures with obsessive attention. "Lesser Cerberus... no. Cosmic Capyba—"
Her finger paused for a millisecond over the incomplete entry for "Cosmic Capybara." Nalia raised an eyebrow, making a mental note to investigate what kind of sorcerer would want to summon a giant rodent with spatial powers, but the urgency of the moment forced her to keep scrolling.
"Here. Astral Lynx."
She adjusted her glasses and read the description in a low voice, absorbing every word.
"The Astral Lynx is an entity of insatiable curiosity. Due to its sensory nature, it is impossible for it to remain static after summoning. Its primary instinct drives it to orbit its summoner, explore the surroundings, mark territory with its mana, and hunt ambient energy flows. Furthermore, they are extremely restrained when attacking, preferring deterrence over destruction. They are haughty, but hyperactive by nature."
Nalia looked up from the book and fixed her eyes on the arena. Below, Veridia was trembling. Beside her, the supposed "hyperactive beast" walked with the parsimony of an old man who had lived far too long. When Veridia stopped in front of the professor, the lynx didn't sniff the air, didn't look at the stands, nor did he chase the specks of magical dust. He simply sat on his haunches, staring into the void with total disinterest in everything around him.
"Still. Indifferent. Static," Nalia whispered, snapping the codex shut with a sharp thud. "That is not a lynx. Either he's sick... or he's pretending to be a pet."
The roar of the exploding fire hoop shook the stadium a second later, confirming her suspicions. While the others screamed in amazement, Nalia put her book away. She already had a hypothesis. Now she needed field tests.
◆◆◆
Minutes later, the heat of the sun outside the Coliseum still burned the back of Veridia's neck—a phantom reminder of the hundreds of eyes that had judged her. She walked fast, leaving the imposing white stone structure behind as if the building itself were a beast about to devour her. Her steps weren't a run—that would imply guilt—but they had the urgency of someone waiting for the ground to open beneath their feet.
Beside her, the contrast was ridiculous to the point of absurdity. The silver lynx advanced with that same calm and dominance that had aroused Nalia's suspicions. While Veridia shrank, avoided gazes, and muttered apologies to the empty air, Kaelen walked with his head held high. His tail moved with a smooth, almost hypnotic rhythm. He didn't look like a pet following his master; he looked like an emperor walking his nervous human pet.
"I told you to jump through the hoop," Veridia hissed under her breath, looking at the lynx with a mix of desperation and reproach. "Not to erase the hoop, the dummy, and the professor's self-esteem from the face of the earth."
Kaelen didn't even twitch his ears. He kept walking, ignoring her complaints as easily as one ignores the flapping of a butterfly's wings.
"Veridia!"
A gloved hand clamped onto her shoulder like a predator's claw. Veridia gave a small jump and spun on her heels to find Nalia's impassive face. Her friend wasn't sweating, despite having had to run to catch up, but there was an unusual tension pulling at the corners of her lips. The look she gave the lynx wasn't one of admiration, but that of a researcher close to a life-changing discovery.
"Nalia..." Veridia released her breath, feeling her shoulders weigh a ton. "Please tell me I haven't been expelled."
"You haven't been expelled. Yet," Nalia replied, adjusting her glasses with a sharp gesture. The sun's reflection hid her eyes for a second. "But the situation has turned... clinical. Professor Horo collapsed two minutes after you left."
Veridia felt the blood drain from her face, leaving her chilled.
"Collapsed? Did I cause him physical harm?"
"Physically, he's intact. Psychologically... the healers say he suffered an 'existential intimidation shock.' He's in the infirmary, in the fetal position, babbling something about 'golden eyes in the void'." Nalia shifted her gaze to the lynx, who had sat down to wait, licking a paw with absolute indifference. "But that's not the main problem, Veri."
Nalia gestured discreetly with her chin toward the central courtyard. Several groups of students were gathered, whispering and casting resentment-filled glances toward them.
"They've suspended the rest of the practical exams. No one else could present. The rumor is that, due to Horo's incapacity, Ren will personally supervise the remaining evaluations tomorrow."
Veridia groaned, burying her face in her hands.
"Oh, no... not Ren."
"Exactly. Everyone knows Ren's exams are sadistic. They're furious, Veri. They think your 'defective familiar' ruined their chance at an easy exam, and now they have to deal with the Director's whims. They blame you."
The pressure of the stares became physical, suffocating, like trying to breathe underwater.
"Let's go," Veridia pleaded, wanting to vanish. "I need to lock myself in my room until they graduate. Or until they forget I exist. Whichever comes first."
"On the contrary," Nalia said, her eyes gleaming behind the lenses with that calculating light that was sometimes frightening. "If you hide now, you accept defeat. Act normal. Let's go to the dining hall."
"The dining hall? Nalia, I have no appetite..."
"Today is Tuesday," Nalia interrupted, checking her pocket watch. "They're serving Star Meat Pastries. They must be almost sold out; you know how popular they are."
Without waiting for a response, Nalia set off. Veridia followed naturally, her light strides—accustomed to constant physical activity—adapting to the frantic pace Nalia was trying to set.
◆◆◆
They left the open area and entered the paths toward the Dining Hall. The change in atmosphere was drastic. They left behind the blinding whiteness of the Coliseum to enter a natural tunnel of shadows. Centenary oaks blocked the sky, filtering the light into cold green patches. It was the perfect place for secrets... and tests.
As they stepped into the gloom, Nalia's breathing was already labored; her academic lungs protested the effort. Veridia, by contrast, had barely warmed up. Nalia, aware she was reaching her physical limit and that the lynx was following them with a bored, confident trot, made a quick movement with her right hand at waist height. A dull snap of her fingers, and two fingers pointing forward.
Forward. Maximum speed.
Veridia caught the signal instantly. She didn't ask. Her muscles, used to high demands and constant flights, tensed like compressed springs. In a burst of movement that kicked up the dry leaves on the path, Veridia vanished from Nalia's sight. She didn't just run; she launched forward with almost inhuman acceleration.
The lynx, walking with his guard down, believing he knew the pace of these girls, blinked. For a fraction of a second, genuine surprise crossed his golden eyes at the girl's sudden explosiveness.
One, two, three meters... Nalia counted mentally, stopping to catch her breath while watching from a distance. The exact moment Veridia brushed the four-meter barrier, Kaelen seemed to react to something. His eyes flashed with recognition and annoyance. The Lynx didn't simply "accelerate." He left a silver trail, a blur of pure speed almost like short-range teleportation, instantly materializing within his "owner's" radius with a controlled skid. It was a conscious and swift correction to avoid exceeding the 4-meter limit.
Nalia smiled slightly, though she was out of breath.
"Got... (gasp)... you."
◆◆◆
The Zenith Academy Dining Hall was not a mere refectory; it was a symphony of domestic magic in constant motion. The high ceiling, vaulted with dark wooden beams, resonated with the clinking of a thousand pieces of cutlery, but the truly hypnotic part happened in the air.
There were no cleaning carts or staff clearing tables here. When a student finished, they simply placed their tray on the "Transit Platforms" at the end of each row of tables. Instantly, the trays rose smoothly, joining an invisible aerial current. They floated in single file above the diners' heads, navigating with the elegance of schools of silver fish toward the kitchen hatches, where steam and the aroma of spices escaped in gusts. Below, juice pitchers tilted of their own accord to refill empty glasses, and small enchanted napkins glided like skaters over the wooden tables, erasing crumbs and stains as soon as the students stood up.
It was a perfect cycle of supernatural order. However, at the corner table where they sat, the magic seemed grey. A bubble of social isolation surrounded them. Veridia had the famous "Star Meat Pastry" in front of her, but she stared at it as if it were a moon rock. Her appetite had vanished under the weight of the surrounding stares. Kaelen lay under the table, motionless, save for his tail which thudded against the floor with a slow, heavy rhythm: Thump... thump... thump...
"At least you were saved," Veridia muttered, poking her fork into the pastry without enthusiasm. "You managed to take your exam before I turned the testing grounds into a circus."
Nalia didn't respond immediately. Her eyes, behind the reflection of her glasses, followed the path of a solitary tray navigating the air currents just above their heads, loaded with a pitcher of pumpkin juice and leftover stew.
One more test. Just to be sure, Nalia thought.
With an imperceptible flick of her hand, activating a small paper talisman hidden under the table, Nalia fired a micro-bullet of compressed mana. The spell struck the base of the floating tray, destabilizing its magical gyroscope. The tray tilted violently and plummeted, heading straight for Nalia's head.
Nalia didn't move. She didn't even blink. She had calculated the trajectory; the impact would be painful, but she had total confidence in Veridia's reaction.
"Watch out!" a student from the neighboring table shouted.
But Veridia didn't need the warning. Feeling that her friend was in imminent danger, her instincts flared before her brain even processed the physics of the fall. With an explosive leap, she kicked her chair back and lunged into the air with a tremendously dramatic pirouette to intercept the projectile. Her body crossed the space over the table, her right hand extended like a claw, and she caught the tray millimeters from Nalia's head. The momentum of the jump carried her further, making her roll across the floor and land in a three-point pose nearly five meters from the table.
The pumpkin juice didn't even spill. It was a perfect save, worthy of an acrobat. However, the sound that followed wasn't applause.
WHISH!
Under the table Veridia had just abandoned, the air ripped open. Kaelen, who seconds before was dozing peacefully, suddenly materialized beside Veridia's knee in her new location. He hadn't walked. He had been forced to use a lightning-step, triggered by the sudden distance Veridia had put between them by saving Nalia, appearing with his fur standing on end and an expression of pure indignation.
The lynx shook his head slightly, instantly regaining his composure, and shot Veridia an icy glare.
What a vulgar human, his voice resonated in her mind, cold and with barely contained annoyance.
Nalia, from the table, pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her heart was racing from the scare, but a smile of satisfaction curved her lips.
"That lynx is not a familiar," she whispered.
Veridia stood up, red with shame, holding the tray like an unwanted trophy while the entire dining hall stared at her.
"W-what...?" she stammered, looking at the lynx that had magically appeared by her side. "Kaelen? Weren't you under the table?"
Nalia put down her cutlery and stared at her friend, grateful but stern.
"Come here, Veri. Sit down. We need to talk."
◆◆◆
Veridia returned, dragging her feet and the indignant lynx.
"I performed two experiments," Nalia began, relentless. "First, I made you run on the path. Second, I sabotaged that tray to fall on me, knowing you would jump to save me."
"You did what?!" Veridia exclaimed, indignation replacing confusion. "You could have been hurt!"
"It was necessary. That lynx never separates more than four meters from you," Nalia continued, totally ignoring the complaint, though her hands were trembling slightly. "Not by a single millimeter. Both times, he had to accelerate almost desperately to stay within your radius. It's as if he has an invisible leash."
Kaelen's golden eyes narrowed. This brat... the demon thought. Being analyzed and decoded by a human who had barely left her diapers was a new and unpleasant sensation. Her curiosity is impertinent.
"Why?" Nalia insisted. "For a beast of that power to be tied to such a short radius is an absurd tactical disadvantage... unless it's a vital necessity. A wounded predator tied to a fragile prey. A dangerous combination, Veri. If he depends on you to exist, he will protect you with relentless violence. You have a short-fused time bomb. And you are the detonator."
Veridia swallowed hard. Nalia was too close to the truth. Veridia couldn't answer. She faltered, and the pressure of the stares became so intense it felt like they were pushing directly against her skin. Nalia's words bounced in her head, joining the murmurs of the other students and the memories of the arena. She stood up abruptly, still reeling, barely grabbing her backpack, and rushed straight to her room without a word.
Nalia was left with her fork in the air, but this time there were no calculations in her gaze as she watched her friend disappear among the floating tables. The "Detonator" wasn't a research subject; she was her best friend, and she had just broken her.
"Dammit..." she whispered, adjusting her glasses with a nervous movement. "I went too far."
She looked at Veridia's untouched tray. Idiot, she reproached herself. She hasn't eaten anything. If she collapses from exhaustion, it'll be my fault. Nalia grabbed an apple and Veridia's pastry and ran after her, breaking—for the first time—the protocol of not running in the dining hall.
◆◆◆
The path to the dormitories should have been her refuge, but fate had other plans. As she rounded the corner of the east hallway, a shadow blocked the light. It was a wall of muscle encased in a uniform that seemed ready to burst. Professor Galt, the head of discipline, was standing there like a siege tower, arms crossed and a vein throbbing violently in his temple.
"Stop right there, Aethel!" Galt roared. His voice sounded like gravel being crushed in a blender.
Veridia skidded to a halt, her heart pounding in her throat. Galt advanced, invading the entire space of the hallway. He smelled of cheap tobacco and a pretentious cologne trying to hide the scent of sweat.
"I heard what happened on the field," he growled, planting himself firmly. "A disgrace. A lack of respect for the institution. And you..." He looked down at the lynx with disgust. "You bring a wild beast into my hallways."
Kaelen didn't even blink. He kept walking with his regal, bored stride, ignoring the shout as if it were the buzzing of an irrelevant mosquito.
"I'm talking to you!" Galt screamed, red with rage. He took a side step, physically interposing himself in the animal's path to block it. "Stop right now, beast!"
Veridia wanted to scream, to warn him, but the air wouldn't reach her lungs. Nalia appeared around the corner at that instant, skidding with the food clutched to her chest. She froze upon seeing the scene.
Kaelen didn't slow down. He didn't lift his head. He didn't growl. He simply kept walking in a straight line, as if the two-meter-tall, hundred-kilo-of-muscle professor didn't even exist in his same plane of reality. When the professor tried to close his path, time seemed to stop for a fraction of a second.
What a nuisance, Kaelen's voice resonated, icy and bored.
He didn't touch him. He didn't even make an attacking gesture. Simply, upon taking the next step, the air around Galt compressed.
BOOM!
It was a sharp, brutal explosion. Professor Galt didn't fall; he was launched. It was as if an invisible train had hit him head-on. He flew three meters through the air in a perfect arc and slammed violently into the hallway wall. The plaster exploded, and the masonry cracked in a spiderweb pattern around his body, leaving him trapped in the crater of his own silhouette.
Kaelen kept walking. He hadn't deviated a single centimeter from his original trajectory. He passed beneath the man embedded in the wall without even deigning to lift his eyes to see his work. The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the sound of plaster dust falling to the floor. Galt groaned, his eyes rolling back, and slid slowly toward the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Nalia dropped the apple. It rolled across the floor until it stopped near Veridia's boots. Her logical mind tried to process what she had just seen, but the equation had no solution. Pure projection of force without contact.
Veridia looked at the unconscious professor, then at Nalia, and finally at her "cat." Kaelen stopped a few steps ahead. He sat elegantly, licked his chest to fix a hair out of place, and looked at her over his shoulder with those glowing amber eyes.
Walk, human, he ordered in her mind. I don't have all day.
Veridia felt her knees go weak. Nalia, pale as paper, approached slowly. She was right. She didn't have a pet. She had a tyrant king. And he had just declared war on the faculty without even lifting a paw.