Two months had passed since Logan last spent this long in the library.

The silence inside had been deep, almost oppressive but it was worth it.

Rows of tall shelves pressed in from all sides, their wood darkened from years of use and polished smooth by countless hands.

He had been there for hours, skimming indexes, cross-referencing spell notations, checking the Exchange catalog one final time before committing.

And now, finally, he stepped outside.

A few students passed by, the soft hum of conversation following them down the stone corridor.

Their footsteps echoed in the high-ceilinged space, bouncing off the arched beams overhead.

Walking with a steady pace, Logan ignored them.

The weight of two tightly bound scroll cases was under his arm.

The cases were marked in faint, embossed silver sigils that confirmed their authenticity.

One held the incantation and diagrams for Eclipsing Grasp, the other for Sovereign of Darkness. They were his new spells that had cost him a lot to finally get.

It hadn't been easy.

Two months of work, leaving the safety of the academy grounds, tracking beasts through dense undergrowth, through cold rains that soaked him to the bone, through stretches of silence where even the birds refused to make a sound.

The fights had been messy, exhausting. Some of the creatures he'd faced hadn't gone down quickly; some had pushed him to the edge, forcing him to ration mana and time each strike with precision. But he had kept going, returning each time with proof, collecting points one hunt at a time.

Now the points were all gone. Spent on the two spells.

He adjusted his grip on the scroll cases, holding them tighter as he walked.

When he reached his dormitory, the familiar creak of the old wooden door met him. He pushed it open.

He froze.

Someone was inside.

A young man sat at the foot of the second bed. The same bed that had been empty since Logan entered the second year of the academy.

He was in the middle of unpacking a small bag, methodically setting his tablet and some other things aside before reaching for another item.

He looked up the moment Logan entered.

Golden-green eyes met his, alert but friendly.

His hair was light brown, streaked with thin bands of orange that caught the sunlight streaming through the window.

They looked very beautiful. In fact, everything about this boy screamed perfection.

"You must be Logan," the young man said. His voice was steady, casual, and smooth.

"I'm Eric. Looks like we're roommates."

Logan said nothing.

Eric's expression didn't falter. If he noticed the silence, he didn't show it.

"I just got here a few hours ago. I'm a transfer from a private magical academy." He paused briefly, as though weighing whether to keep going.

"I thought I'd introduce myself before-" But he didn't have the chance to finish.

Logan stepped further into the room without slowing.

He moved past Eric without looking directly at him with the scroll cases still in his grip.

His desk sat against the far wall, clear except for a single small lamp and a closed notebook. He set the scrolls down carefully, the sound of wood meeting wood muffled by the thick air in the room.

Eric watched him for a moment, one hand resting on his half-unpacked bag.

"If you need me to move my things," Eric offered, "just let me know. I don't mind adjusting."

Logan didn't answer instead, he turned, crossed to the small storage cabinet in the corner, and pulled out a pen.

Eric's gaze followed him. "Are you heading out?"

Logan didn't acknowledge the question.

He reached the door and stepped out, closing it behind him with a quiet click.

The hallway outside was cool, the stone holding onto the day's chill despite the sun. His footsteps were the only sound as he made his way toward the training hall. He didn't look back.

The walk was a familiar one. He used the teleportation ring at the end of the hall to go to the lounge and headed outside.

He walked towards his destination at a steady pace.

The space between the academy's buildings had students walking about but Logan ignored and avoided all of them instead, going straight for the training hall at the far end.

Inside, the air was warmer, faintly smelling of dust and magic residue from past sessions. The hall's high windows let in strips of fading light, cutting across the stone floor in uneven bands. A few students were still there, practicing quietly, their focus elsewhere.

Logan ignored them.

He moved to one of the empty rooms present, away from the others, and entered before setting his satchel down.

He opened one of the scroll cases and unrolled the thick parchment inside.

The diagrams were precise, each line of the rune circles drawn with exact measurements. The casting instructions were concise, written in the academy's formal notation.

He traced the first sequence of Eclipsing Grasp with his eyes, committing the movement pattern to memory.

It wasn't the time to attempt a full cast as these spells would take control, precision. Mistakes could backfire, and he wasn't interested in wasting mana on carelessness.

But he could practice the structure, the shaping of the energy, until it felt natural.

He set the first scroll aside and opened the second.

Sovereign of Darkness.

The runes here were denser, layered.

It was a different kind of magic.

It was heavier, more commanding, meant to dominate rather than simply damage.

He had chosen this spell because it was part of the Sovereign series of spells. Aaron had used Sovereign of Fire the first time they had met.

He read the incantation twice, then rolled the scroll back up.

The hall had grown quieter while he studied.

While the hall was partly soundproofed, it still allowed enough sound through to determine if someone was still in the hall as a whole.

The other students had finished their practice and left, leaving the hall empty except for him. The fading light through the windows had turned a deeper orange, stretching the shadows longer across the floor.

Logan picked up the scroll cases, slid them back into his satchel, and stood.

The work would begin as early as possible tomorrow. Tonight, he just needed the familiarity of the training hall, the quiet focus of a space without conversation.

And away from Eric.