I woke up to the soft chime of the Tower's morning bell, the sound resonating through the stone walls of my dormitory. Today was the day. The orientation was over, and now the real work began.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My body felt surprisingly rested, likely due to the high-quality mana-infused mattress provided to students. I stood and walked to the wardrobe, pulling out the designated uniform for the first day of classes.
The curriculum for the first year was standardized, a foundation upon which the next eighty years of study would be built. There were only three core classes: Physical Conditioning, Mana Sensitivity, and Theoretical Knowledge. It sounded simple, but the depth was staggering.
After the first year, students would begin to diversify, branching into specialized fields like Elementalism, Necromancy, Summoning, or Alchemy. But to graduate as a true mage, one had to achieve Expert rank.
I recalled the ranking system of the Tower, a hierarchy that dictated power and prestige:
1. Initiate: The entry-level for all new students.
2. Acolyte: One who has mastered the basics of mana control.
3. Journeyman: Capable of casting intermediate spells without incantations.
4. Expert: A recognized mage with specialized knowledge.
5. Master: A formidable force, capable of shaping the battlefield.
6. Grandmaster: A rarity, possessing deep understanding of magical laws.
7. Archmage: The pinnacle of magical society, often serving as advisors to the King or were dukes.
8. Great Mage: There was only one in the entire kingdom. The King.
I wanted to be a Great Mage. It was a lofty goal, but I was certain if i tried hard enough I will achieve it.
I dressed quickly. The white top and white skirt were simple but elegant, the fabric breathable and flexible. I tied my pink hair back into a high ponytail, keeping it away from my face. I looked at myself in the mirror. I still looked fragile, but my eyes held a determination that hadn't been there yesterday.
Time for the first class: Physical Conditioning.
I headed to the gymnasium, a massive hall located on the lower levels of the Tower. The air inside was warm and smelled of sweat and ozone. Students were already filing in, changing into their fitness attire.
I found a locker and changed into the provided gym clothes. They were... revealing. A tight, sleeveless top that hugged my chest and a pair of shorts that were shorter than I liked. My pale skin and slender limbs were on full display. I felt exposed, but I steeled my resolve. I needed to improve and not be distracted by minor things.
I stepped out into the main training floor, my sneakers squeaking on the polished wood. The room was vast, filled with training dummies, weights, and open spaces for sparring.
"Bell!"
I turned to see Elara waving at me from near the entrance. I walked over, my eyes widening as I took her in.
Elara was wearing a similar outfit, but on her, it looked completely different. She had swapped her usual oversized robes for a fitted tank top and compression shorts. And she was... ripped.
Her arms were toned, with defined biceps and triceps. Her shoulders were broad and capped with muscle. As she stretched, her top rode up slightly, revealing a set of abs that were nothing short of a six-pack. Her thighs were thick with powerful muscle.
No wonder she's a Futa, I thought, a flush rising to my cheeks.
"Bell," she said, smiling as I approached. "You look ready."
Before I could respond, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. It was a friendly gesture, but her strength was immense. She lifted me clean off the ground as if I weighed nothing.
"Whoa!" I yelped, my feet dangling in the air.
Elara set me down gently, her grey eyes crinkling with amusement. "You're light. Like a feather."
"I'm... working on it," I muttered, smoothing down my top.
"Good morning, class!"
The booming voice of Professor Onlnor cut through the chatter. The elderly elf stood at the front of the room, his blue robes traded for a practical tracksuit. He held a clipboard in one hand.
"Today marks the beginning of your physical conditioning," Onlnor announced, his eyes scanning the room. "Magic is a mental exercise, but your body is the vessel. A weak vessel shatters under the pressure of high-tier mana. You will run, you will lift, and you will spar."
He paused, tapping the clipboard. "For the first year, you will be assigned a permanent training partner. This person will be your spotter, your rival, and your support. I will call out the pairs."
I held my breath, my eyes darting to Elara. She met my gaze and gave a small, confident nod. Please let it be her, I prayed. I need someone who won't crush me.
Onlnor showed brought a board which held the pairing names. The class read in silence looking for their names. Then, I found my pair but it made my blood run cold.
"Kaelen Virenth and Bell Ashford."
The air left my lungs. I felt like a truck had hit me, the impact leaving me numb and dizzy. I turned my head slowly toward the other side of the room.
Kaelen Virenth stood there, his silver hair tied back in a ponytail, his emerald eyes scanning the crowd until they locked onto mine. He was massive, his broad shoulders straining against his tight black tank top. He looked like a statue carved from marble, every muscle defined and powerful.
I stood frozen as he began to walk toward me. The students parted for him, their whispers following in his wake. He stopped a few feet away, looking down at me with an expression that was hard to read.
I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to work.
"Kaelen Virenth," I said, my voice trembling slightly.
"Bell Ashford," he replied, his voice deep and resonant, sharper than intended.
I flinched, my ears drooping.
[POV: Kaelen Virenth]
I scanned the list of names on the board, my eyes searching for one in particular. Valerius Thorne. I wanted him as my partner. I wanted to prove to the entire school that even if the prince had taken the exam, I was still superior in raw physical power. I wanted to feel his resistance, to push against that monstrous strength and see where I stood.
But the name next to mine wasn't Valerius. It was Bell Ashford.
I grumbled under my breath, a low sound of irritation. Who was Bell Ashford? I didn't recall seeing that name among the top physical scorers. In fact, I didn't recall seeing it at all.
I looked up, scanning the room for this person. My eyes swept over the clusters of students until they landed on a splash of pink.
There she was.
She looked... wrong. In a room full of toned, athletic elves, she stood out like a wilted flower. She was petite, with limbs that looked like they would snap under the slightest pressure. Her skin was pale and unmarred by muscle definition. She looked fragile, as if I touched her slightly, she would break.
But then she turned, and I caught a glimpse of her face.
My breath hitched.
She was... cute. Undeniably so. Her pink hair framed a delicate face with large, expressive eyes. Her figure, while slender, had soft curves that my eyes lingered on a moment too long. I shook my head, clearing the thought.
Focus, Kaelen. She's your training partner, nothing more.
She walked over, her steps hesitant. When she stood before me, she looked up with wide eyes.
"H-hello?" she stammered.
I replied, my tone sharper than intended, "Bell Ashford?"
She nodded nervously, clutching the hem of her shorts.
"Kaelen Virenth," I introduced myself curtly.
Professor Onlnor clapped his hands, signaling the start of the session. "Begin with basic calisthenics! Partner A demonstrates, Partner B mimics. Then switch!"
I let out a sigh. This was going to be a bore. The esteemed Magic Tower's curriculum was supposed to be rigorous, but this felt elementary.
I dropped into a push-up position, my body moving fluidly. "Watch," I commanded.
I cranked out twenty push-ups without breaking a sweat, my breathing steady. Then I stood up and gestured for her to take my place.
"Your turn."
Bell hesitated, then lowered herself to the floor. She positioned her arms and legs, her form shaky from the start.
"Go," I said.
She pushed up, her arms trembling violently. She managed one, then a second. On the third, her elbows buckled, and she collapsed face-first onto the mat with a soft oof.
She groaned, pushing herself up, her face flushed a deep red.
"I... I can do this," she muttered, resetting her position.
She tried again. One rep. Two reps. On the third, she wobbled, her arms giving out. This time, she let out a frustrated noise, a mix of a grunt and a whimper.
Pathetic, I thought, but the word lacked its usual bite.
I watched her try again, her face scrunched in concentration. She was cursing under her breath, tiny whispered words that would have shocked a proper lady. "Stupid... weak... arms..."
There was something oddly entertaining about it. She wasn't giving up. She kept failing, but she kept trying.
"Your elbows are flaring out," I said suddenly.
Bell paused, looking up at me from the floor, sweat dripping from her nose. "What?"
"Your elbows," I repeated, crouching beside her. I reached out, my large hand gripping her slender upper arm. Her skin was soft and warm. I adjusted her position, forcing her elbow closer to her body. "Keep them tucked. You're using your shoulders, not your chest."
"Oh," she breathed, her eyes wide. "Thank you."
She tried again with the corrected form. It was still difficult, her arms shook like leaves in a storm, but she managed four reps before collapsing.
"Better," I said.
She looked up at me, her pink hair sticking to her forehead, her ears tinged a bright pink. "Really?"
I nodded, standing up. "Again."
We switched roles, but I found my attention drifting back to her more often than I liked. During the squats, she struggled to keep her balance, wobbling dangerously. I stood behind her, my hands hovering near her waist, ready to catch her if she fell.
During the lunges, she stumbled, and I reached out, steadying her by the shoulder. Her bones felt small under my grip.
And every time she looked at me, those large pink eyes filled with determination, staring directly at me as she pushed through the pain, my heart did something strange.
Thump-thump.
It wasn't the steady rhythm of a warrior's heart. It was erratic. Unsteady.
I paused, pressing a hand to my chest.
What is this?
I had felt adrenaline in battle, the rush of mana during combat, but this was different. It was a flutter, a sudden heat that spread through my chest whenever she smiled at me after completing a rep.
I shook my head, trying to focus. It's just the heat of the workout, I told myself. Nothing more.
But as the session continued, I found myself correcting her form more than necessary, just to have an excuse to touch her arm or stand close to her.
"Your core is tight," I said, my voice low as I stood behind her during a plank. "Don't let your hips sag."
"I'm trying," she gasped, her arms trembling.
"You're doing well," I said, the words surprising me. I didn't usually offer praise.
She looked back over her shoulder, a smile breaking through her exhaustion. "Thanks, Kaelen."
Thump-thump.
There it was again. That erratic beat.
By the time Professor Onlnor called time, the gymnasium was filled with the sound of heavy breathing. I felt clean, hadn't broken a sweat, but Bell was a mess.
She lay on her back on the mat, her chest heaving, her skin glistening with sweat. Her white top was damp, clinging to her curves. Her face was flushed, her pink hair fanned out around her head like a halo.
I stood over her, looking down.
"Get up," I said, though my voice was softer than before. "You can't lie here all day."
She groaned, raising a hand. "I can't feel my legs."
I hesitated, then reached down and grabbed her hand. My large hand engulfed hers. I pulled her up effortlessly, her body light as a feather. She stumbled against me, her forehead bumping against my chest.
"Oof," she mumbled, stepping back quickly. "Sorry."
"It's fine," I said, crossing my arms to hide the sudden warmth in my own hand. "You need to clean up before the next class."
She nodded, swaying slightly. "Right. Mana Sensitivity next."
I watched her turn to leave, her steps unsteady. Without thinking, I moved to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder to steady her.
"I'll walk you to your dorm," I said. "You look like you'll collapse before you make it to the stairs."
She looked up at me, surprise flashing in her eyes. "You don't have to do that."
"I know," I replied. "But I am."
We walked in silence through the corridors of the Tower. Students gave us a wide berth, their eyes widening as they saw the school's top physical scorer walking alongside the pink-haired anomaly. I ignored them, focusing on the girl beside me.
"You have potential," I said suddenly.
Bell looked up, blinking. "What?"
"Your form," I clarified. "It's terrible, but you have good mana control. I can feel it when you focus. If you build the muscle to support it, you could be dangerous."
A genuine smile spread across her face, lighting up her features. "Really? You think so?"
"I don't lie," I said, looking away. "Just... don't slack off. I expect you to keep up tomorrow."
"I will," she promised.
We arrived at her dorm room, number 204. She leaned against the doorframe, still breathing heavily.
"Thanks for the help, Kaelen. And for walking me back."
I nodded, turning to leave. But my feet didn't move. I stood there, my hand reaching into my pocket, my mind racing.
Hey, since we're going to be training partners for the rest of the year, we should have each other's contact right?
The thought came out of nowhere, but once it was there, it felt right.
I turned back to her.
"Hey," I said, my voice rougher than I intended.
She paused, her hand on the doorknob. "Yes?"
"Since we're going to be training partners for the rest of the year," I said, pulling out my Manacomm, "we should have each other's contact."
Her eyes widened, then softened. "Oh. Of course."
She took the device, her fingers brushing mine again. She typed in her number, her movements quick and precise. When she handed it back, she looked up at me, a faint blush still on her cheeks.
"Done," she said. "I'll see you in class, Kaelen."
"Yes," I replied. "See you."
She slipped inside her room, closing the door softly.
I stood in the hallway for a long moment, staring at the closed door. Then I looked down at my Manacomm. Her name was already saved: Bell Ashford.
A strange feeling settled in my chest, not the erratic flutter from before, but a steady warmth. I turned and walked away, my steps lighter than they had been in years.