Lucien realized halfway through Mana Theory that he’d forgotten to submit the resonance report from last week.
Professor Aldric was already collecting papers from the front row, his usual brisk efficiency on full display.
The realization hit like a misplaced delivery—too late to fix easily, too obvious to ignore.
He dug through his satchel anyway, hoping the pages had simply slipped to the bottom.
They hadn’t.
Just a crumpled note from Theo about practice times and a half-eaten pastry wrapped in cloth.
Lucien sat back, the chair creaking under him.
Aldric’s gaze swept the room.
“Last call.
Missing submissions lose half credit.
No exceptions this term.”
A few students groaned.
Lucien stayed quiet.
He’d have to explain it after class.
The thought sat heavy in his stomach.
Not the lost points exactly.
More the idea of standing there admitting he’d let something slip.
Small failures still stung more than they should.
Class ended in the usual shuffle of chairs and conversations.
Lucien waited until most had left before approaching the desk.
Aldric looked up, glasses perched on the end of his nose.
“Nightshade.
Problem?”
“Forgot the report,” Lucien said.
Straight to it.
No excuses that would sound like excuses.
“I can have it by tomorrow if that helps.”
Aldric stared at him for a long moment.
The man never wasted words.
“Tomorrow.
Full credit lost.
Don’t make it a habit.” He turned back to his notes without waiting for a response.
Typical.
Lucien left the lecture hall feeling the familiar mix of irritation and resolve.
The corridors were busy, students rushing between classes or lingering in groups to complain about assignments.
He spotted Theo near the east stairs, arguing with Lira about something involving wind patterns.
They waved him over but he shook his head and kept moving.
The report needed finishing.
The library was quieter than usual.
He claimed a corner table and spread his notes out, the pages still slightly crumpled from the satchel.
Writing the report took longer than it should have.
His handwriting grew messier toward the end as frustration crept in.
The words felt clumsy.
Too simple in places.
Overcomplicated in others.
He kept at it anyway, crossing out lines and rewriting until the afternoon light shifted across the table.
A shadow fell over his work at one point.
Cecilia, carrying her usual stack of notes and a small potted plant that looked recently repotted.
She set the plant down carefully, then hovered for a second.
“Bad day?”
“Missed a deadline,” Lucien said, not looking up immediately.
“Stupid mistake.”
She sat across from him without being asked, fidgeting with the edge of one page.
“I’ve done that.
More times than I’d like to admit.
Professor Lirien always says the best way to remember is to make the mistake hurt a little first.” She paused.
“Not that I’m saying you should feel bad.
Just… it happens.”
Lucien finally looked up.
Her expression was earnest, a little uncertain.
The potted plant sat between them like a small green barrier.
“Thanks.
I’ll get it done tonight.”
They worked in companionable silence for a while after that.
Cecilia hummed softly while reviewing her own notes, the sound barely audible.
Lucien finished the report, read it through once, and set it aside.
The satisfaction was small but real.
No grand victory.
Just a task completed.
Cecilia glanced over at one point.
“The grafting practice.
Did you want to try that sometime?
I have a free slot tomorrow afternoon if you’re not busy with… whatever Nightshades do on Tuesdays.”
Lucien considered it.
The invitation felt genuine.
No hidden expectations he could detect.
Sounds good.
The east greenhouse?”
She brightened.
“Perfect.
I’ll bring extra neutralizer.
Just in case.”
The conversation drifted after that.
She rambled a bit about a new hybrid strain she was testing, the words coming faster when she got excited.
Lucien listened, asked questions when it felt natural.
No pressure.
No performance.
Just two students talking about plants and magic and the general chaos of academy life.
When they finally packed up, the library had grown dimmer.
Cecilia gathered her things with her usual slight awkwardness, nearly dropping one of her notebooks.
“See you tomorrow then.
And good luck with the report.
Aldric’s strict but he’s fair.
Mostly.”
Lucien nodded.
“Thanks for the company.”
She left with a small wave, the potted plant balanced carefully in her arms.
Lucien stayed at the table a moment longer, staring at the finished report.
The day had been a series of small corrections.
Missed deadlines.
Forgotten details.
Ordinary setbacks.
He gathered his things and headed out.
In the corridor outside, a group of third-years celebrated someone’s tournament placement with loud cheers.
One of them clapped Lucien on the shoulder as he passed.
“Good luck in your own matches, Nightshade.
Try not to burn the place down.”
Lucien managed a half-smile and kept walking.
The weight of the report in his satchel felt lighter than it had earlier.
Tomorrow would bring the greenhouse session.
More small steps.
More ordinary days stacking up into something that almost felt like belonging.
He turned the corner toward the dorms, the finished report tucked safely away.