Night fell slowly, a thin layer of mist enveloping the ancient stone corridor. The sound of students' footsteps echoed, mingling with the cheerful laughter of the Phoenixes as they left the hall after dinner.
"Hurry up, it's getting cold!" Rissy urged, pulling Lena's arm.
Neval suddenly stopped, his face contorted in a grimace:
"Wait… I think I ate too much."
The group chuckled and continued walking. Juston glanced back, hesitated for a moment, then turned back to wait for his friend.
"Hurry up, or I'll leave you behind."
Neval hurried towards the restroom at the end of the corridor. The air suddenly fell silent, the magical candles on the wall flickered, the darkness seemed to stir.
A low growl echoed from the end of the corridor.
Juston turned around. The light from the candles flickered out one by one—pff… pff… pff…—until the entire corridor was plunged into thick darkness.
"Neval?" he called softly. There was no reply. Only the sound of something being dragged across the stone floor.
Then, suddenly! — a pair of silver-blue eyes flashed.
A magical wolf darted out from the dark corner, its silver fur shimmering with each breath. Juston instinctively recoiled, drawing his wand, and whispered:
"Protego!"
The magic shield bounced off, sparks flying. The impact numbed his hand, but the wolf was thrown back.
Just then, a shout rang out from behind:
"Juston! Get out of the way!"
Neval had returned, his face pale but still holding his wand:
"Lumos Maxima!"
A blinding white light flooded the corridor. In that light, two or three more wolves appeared, their eyes reflecting an eerie glow.
"What's wrong with them?!" —Neval gasped.
"I don't know! Keep your distance!" —Juston replied, his voice trembling but his wand still pointed straight ahead.
A wolf lunged, its teeth bared, but Juston was half a beat faster:
"Expulso!"
A burst of blue light exploded, forcing the beast back, leaving a faint trail of silver smoke on the wall. The remaining ones snarled, then suddenly vanished—as if they had never existed.
The hallway fell silent again. The two children stood there, their wands trembling slightly, their breaths ragged.
The candlelight flickered back on, illuminating three approaching figures: Professor Enrid, Vice Headmistress Annatrist, and Headmistress Lourie. Their cloaks swept across the floor, the faint glow of magic around their hems.
Annatrist said in a low voice:
"You two… what are you doing here at this hour?"
Juston stammered:
"Miss, we… we were just waiting for a friend. Then… something attacked."
Lourie frowned:
"No one was hurt, was anyone?"
"No," Neval replied, still breathless.
Enrid bent down, a flash of magic revealing faint, glowing wolf footprints that then faded away.
"Magical wolves… but how did they get past the protective barrier?"
Annatrist looked at the two boys, her gaze sharp yet warm:
"Whatever the reason, remain calm. That's the reflex of someone with talent."
Lourie smiled slightly:
"This year's Phoenixes Magic seems like it will be very interesting."
Phoenixes Dormitory
The wooden door swung open, the room brightening. Lena, Rissy, and their group of friends were waiting, their faces showing worry.
"Good heavens, where did you two go?!" – Rissy jumped up and ran in.
"Everyone thought you two were punished by the professor somewhere!" – Lena added.
Before Juston could speak, Neval interrupted, his voice half proud, half trembling:
"We were… attacked. Magical wolves. Three professors were there too." The room fell silent for a few seconds, then gasps erupted.
"Wolves?"
"Really?"
"What kind of spell was that? How did you escape?"
Juston chuckled, plopping down on the bed and rubbing his neck:
"I don't know… they left when we countered. Luckily, we learned a few defensive spells."
Scaffil – the leader of the Phoenixes – gently closed his book, his gaze becoming much more serious.
"You two did well. Stay calm, counter-spell perfectly – it's not easy, especially for freshmen."
Neval scratched his head, blushing:
"We just… got lucky."
Scaffil smirked:
"Lucky? That's fine. But tomorrow, after class, gather at the spell training ground. I'll teach you two – no, the whole team – some basic advanced defensive spells. Don't let luck decide next time."
The whole room cheered in unison:
"Understood!"
The atmosphere was once again full of life. Rissy pulled the blanket over Neval's shoulders, giving him a playful glare and a smile:
"The hero eats a lot, luckily he wasn't eaten by the wolf."
"Oh, come on!" Neval retorted, but his smile remained radiant.
The candlelight flickered on the wall, dancing like a dance. The story of "two freshmen chasing away a magical wolf" would surely spread throughout the dormitory before dawn.
Scaffil—who had been silently gazing out the window—narrowed his eyes slightly:
"A magical wolf… within the protected boundary? Something's not right."
The fire in the fireplace blazed, illuminating the eager faces of the young students. A night that began with unexpected events.
3. Training
The next morning, the Phoenixes' training hall was silent, light from the rows of windows falling onto the cold stone floor. No one spoke until the door opened—Scaffil entered, holding a thick notebook.
"I heard that two freshmen made the whole forest hold its breath last night?" – his voice was even, not loud, but enough to make the others look up.
Taren whistled softly, Kairo chuckled:
"The rumors say the wolves run faster than them."
Neval blushed, Juston shrugged:
"We just reacted. Luckily the spell didn't fail."
Scaffil set the notebook down on the table, crossed his arms, and looked at the group. His gaze was serious, but a smile still lingered on his lips:
"Luck isn't a strategy, Juston. But… I'm proud. You two did exactly what a Phoenix should do: not leave a friend behind."
Everyone was silent for a few seconds. Then Scaffil raised his wand, and five red spheres shot out, hovering in mid-air, swirling around each of them.
"From today, I'll be serious training. This year's Magic Regorts isn't easy — the first round is monster hunting, the second is all-out coordination. If you don't understand your teammates, no matter how powerful your spells are, they're meaningless."
Kairo raised his hand, grinning mischievously,
"So what if we understand each other but our spells are still weak?"
Scaffil glanced sideways, replying dryly,
"Then I'll make you run ten laps around the field."
The whole group burst into laughter, except for Juston — he was still intently watching the swirling spheres.
Scaffil waved his hand, and the spheres immediately rushed forward — a surprise reflex test.
Neval flinched, almost falling, but Taren quickly pulled him back, and a light-blocking spell was cast just in time.
Kairo countered quickly, the light exploding with a "pop" in mid-air.
Only Juston remained still, his eyes following the movement, then struck the second counter-attack with a neat spell.
The entire arena lit up and then went out.
Scaffil propped his wand up, nodding:
"Good. Now let's really begin. I don't want Phoenixes Magic this year to be famous only because of the rumors from last night."
Neval chuckled awkwardly, scratching his head:
"What rumors?"
"Rumors," Scaffil said, his voice deepening, "that two kids made wolves run away without knowing they were destined to join the team."
Round 1: The Black Forest Challenge
Three weeks later, the sound of trumpets echoed throughout the arena, a swirling light in mid-air splitting into four directions — the four academies preparing for their first round of competition.
The name Phoenixes Magic was called first.
"Phoenixes Magic – Formation: Scaffil, Taren, Kairo, Neval, Juston."
The entire arena erupted in cheers. On the elevated platform, Headmistress Lourie leaned forward, her voice warm and resonant:
"Round One – Mythical Creature: Night Forest Wolf. Mission: Destroy or neutralize all within ten minutes. Begin!"
The ground shook.
From within the black mist, golden eyes opened—magic wolves, as large as small horses, their mouths emitting white smoke.
"V-formation!" – Scaffil shouted, waving her wand.
A circle of orange fire blazed – the Phoenixes' defensive spell.
Taren added a faint barrier, Kairo charged forward, the light around him flashing like sparks.
A wolf leaped from the left.
"Neval, right!" – Juston yelled, blocking the spell.
The light struck the wolf, exploding and sending dust and rocks flying. Scaffil waved his wand, creating a swirling vortex of fire that locked the wolves' movements, his voice low but firm:
"Counterattack in threes. Juston – hold the center."
Juston nodded slightly, taking a deep breath.
The light spell in his hand transformed—into a stream of light like a phoenix's wings unfolding, enveloping the stands in a brilliant orange-red hue.
The wolves howled, then one by one they vanished into smoke.
The trumpet sounded.
"Phoenixes Magic – Mission accomplished in 7 minutes and 12 seconds!"
The stands erupted in cheers.
Neval slumped to the ground, breathless:
"You said ten minutes…"
"I said ten, I didn't say we had to use it all." – Scaffil raised an eyebrow, a slight smile on his face.
The whole team burst into laughter.
But as they left the arena, Juston saw – the Serpentis Magic team walking out to prepare for their turn. The man in the middle, with silver-gray hair, walked slowly but steadily – Detus.
Their eyes met briefly—no animosity, only mutual recognition of each other's strength.
Vice Headmistress Annatrist shouted:
"Serpentis Magic – begin!"
Unlike the Phoenixes, the Serpentis team didn't create a barrier.
Only Detus raised his wand. The ground cracked open, black smoke billowing out like a wave, engulfing the pack of wolves.
When the light faded, only dust remained—and Detus stood there, calm.
"Serpentis Magic – completed in 6 minutes and 04 seconds."
The stands fell silent for a moment.
Scaffil whistled softly, whispering:
"That kid is really dangerous."
Juston chuckled faintly:
"All the more worthy of a final round."
Round 2: Regorts Magic Finals
Three weeks flew by. After Round 1, the academy was always bustling—students from all four houses were constantly discussing the upcoming showdown.
"Phoenixes and Serpentis will be competing on the same field, for the first time in six years!" – everyone was excited, both fearful and hopeful.
Early in the morning, the magical clock chimed throughout the dormitory. Scaffil entered the room, wearing his shimmering red competition robe, his voice clear and resonant:
"Get up, kids. Today isn't just a competition—it's a show of how strong Phoenixes are."
Juston hastily stuffed his spellbook into his pocket, while Neval yawned as he walked, muttering:
"As long as nothing flies around, it's fine. I'm afraid of heights."
Scaffil chuckled softly, placing his hand on Neval's shoulder:
"Everything's on the ground. But there's no shortage of fire."
The central arena opened up under a transparent dome, where magical light converged like an artificial sky. In the middle of the arena—a gigantic dragon stood motionless, its eyes half-closed, its scales shimmering blue, occasionally exhaling wisps of smoke and fire like a breath.
Beneath the dragon's belly, the Regorts' Cup shone—the sole target.
In the distance, the magic gates opened. Four houses—Phoenixes, Serpentis, Eaglie, Foxly—emerged one after another, splitting into four directions.
Headmaster Lourie's deep, resonant voice echoed through the air:
"Round Two—Regorts Magic Finals!
Mission: Overcome obstacles, dodge attacks from the blue dragon, confront the remaining monsters, and claim the central trophy.
Direct attacks on opponents are not allowed. If one person touches the trophy – victory belongs to the entire team."
The light flickered out.
The bugle blared.
"Begin!"
Phoenixes charged first. Scaffil created a shield of fire for the entire team, while Neval fired a wave-scattering spell to clear a path.
A giant spider slithered out from the mist, its legs striking the ground and creating a wave of magic.
"Left – Juston!"
"I know!"
A white beam of light from Juston's wand slashed across, severing the spider's front legs, causing it to roar and then vanish into smoke.
From the opposite direction, the Serpentis team advanced — Detus leading the way, his dark blue cloak billowing in the black smoke. A magical wind swept through, kicking up dust.
Detus and Juston's eyes met — for a moment, they were no longer opponents but seemed to be reading each other's minds through the battle.
"Don't let it get ahead!" – Scaffil yelled.
"Neval, circle to the right! Juston, create a pillar of light to block the middle of the field!"
Both nodded. A beam of light shot up from Juston, blocking Serpentis's path for a few seconds—just enough time for Scaffil and Kairo to get closer to the cup.
But the blue dragon opened its eyes.
A stream of deep blue fire erupted, sweeping across the field.
Scaffil pushed back his shield, the entire team recoiled, smoke billowing.
Annatrist's voice rang out from the stands, worried but serious:
"Blue fire doesn't inflict injury, but if you're knocked down—you must wait two minutes before getting up! Remain calm and coordinate!"
On the other side, Detus waved his wand, black smoke transforming into a magical rope that hooked onto the cup's leg.
Scaffil gritted his teeth:
"No way!"
He unleashed a phoenix-shaped beam of light, hurtling straight into the center of the arena, shattering the spell.
The ground exploded, light and smoke mingling.
At that moment—Juston saw the trophy roll sideways, just steps away from him.
"Neval! Catch me!"
Neval nodded vigorously, waving his wand to lift the wind, propelling Juston off the ground.
He reached out, reaching through the blue smoke…
Touch.
The victory bell rang out.
"Phoenixes Magic – victory!"
The stands erupted. Scaffil laughed loudly, pulling his two teammates into a tight embrace.
"Well done, kids."
Juston gasped for breath, smiling in response:
"You taught us well."
In the stands, Annatrist smiled, Headmaster Lourie nodded.
On the Serpentis side, Detus merely smirked—not bitter, just coldly whispering to his teammates:
"Losing one match doesn't mean losing forever."
Then, turning away, his blue cloak faded into the swirling smoke.
That evening, Lourie stood on the stage of the Great Hall, his voice resonating, deep and powerful:
"The match that just ended brought both pride and disappointment to the Houses. Today, Regorts has concluded — but its spirit has never faded."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the four House tables, settling on the gently glowing golden trophy.
"I have seen you fight, stumble, rise, and protect your teammates. That is what this academy has always hoped for — courage, loyalty, and a fearless heart."
The space fell silent for a moment, then Lourie continued, his voice low but warm:
"The trophy may change hands every year, but the value you have created today — will live on in the memory of Regorts. Remember, magic is not just in the wand… but in how you choose to use it."
He smiled faintly:
"Tonight, let's celebrate. Tomorrow, the academy will resume—and new stories will begin."
That night, as darkness fell, the entire Phoenixes room was asleep. Only Lena tossed and turned restlessly.
Suddenly, the ash on Julier's hand flashed brightly. Startled, she sat up and looked out the window at the head of her bed. Outside, under the dim moonlight, a dragon soared in the distance, its majestic silhouette reflecting a silver light.
Lena quickly got out of bed and ran to get a better look. She frantically woke Rissy:
"Rissy! Wake up! The mother dragon is flying outside!"
Rissy rubbed her eyes, staring blankly in the direction her friend pointed. But the sky was only filled with the silent full moon.
"What is that? Why can't I see it?" Rissy's eyes widened, trying to see, but there was nothing but moonlight.
Lena couldn't believe her eyes. The baby dragon had been fluttering in the moonlight, but when she woke her friend up, it had vanished in a flash.
"A... there was clearly a dragon!"
"How do you know?" Rissy asked, her voice full of curiosity.
"I couldn't sleep and... the ash stain glowed brightly," Lena replied, her voice trembling.
"Anything else?" Rissy tried to ask for more details.
"This morning, during the occult biology class, I saw the mother dragon fly in to incubate the eggs... and it even looked back at me," Lena recounted, hoping her friend would believe her.
"Really?!" Rissy exclaimed, her face full of surprise.
"Shhh! If you say that loudly, the whole room will hear!" Lena quickly covered her friend's mouth.
Rissy pushed her hand away, sighing:
"Why didn't you tell us about something so big?" Lena lowered her head, her voice soft:
"I… I was afraid you wouldn't believe me."
Rissy smiled gently, taking her friend's hand:
"At least the story about the egg causing the ash on your hand has convinced us. Don't be afraid of anything, we're friends, nothing can make us lose trust in each other. Remember?"
Lena nodded slightly, a gentle smile on her lips:
"I know."
"Okay, let's go to sleep now. It's late, and we have to get up early for school tomorrow."
They returned to bed. Night enveloped the small room, but in Lena's heart, curiosity still smoldered—like a small flame that never went out.