CHAPTER 271: CHANGES

The morning light slipped through the tall glass panes, fractured by the curtains into soft ribbons of gold.

Merlin woke slowly, not to noise or alarm, but to warmth. The air felt gentler somehow, the kind of morning where even the wind outside the dorms seemed half-asleep. He blinked once, eyes adjusting to the sunlight that pooled lazily across the floor.

The academy courtyard below was already stirring. Students moved in pairs and trios, some yawning, some laughing, all with that strange, unsteady energy that came after exams and before the next storm of lessons began.

Merlin stretched, rubbing the back of his neck, and caught his reflection in the window. His hair was a mess, and there were faint shadows under his eyes. But... he didn’t look exhausted.

He looked alive.

He smiled faintly. "Guess that’s new."

The small, metallic hum of his wristband drew his attention, the academy’s internal network flashing across the display.

[Notice: Mandatory second-year placement announcement — 11:00 a.m. Main Hall.]

[Attendance Required.]

Merlin read it once, twice, then leaned back in his chair. "So it begins again."

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Merlin? You awake?"

The voice was familiar, melodic, slightly teasing.

He didn’t even need to ask who it was.

"Door’s open, Elara."

The handle turned, and Elara stepped in, light catching on her hair. She wasn’t wearing her uniform yet, just casual clothes, loose cream sleeves, soft fabric that gave her an oddly unguarded look.

"You’re dressed early," Merlin said, leaning back.

She smiled faintly. "I don’t sleep much before announcements. You should’ve seen the group chat. Everyone’s losing their minds."

"I can imagine."

"I’m surprised you weren’t in it."

"I was," he said, "until I muted it."

Elara laughed softly, shaking her head. "Of course you did."

She crossed the room to the window, glancing down at the courtyard below. "You can feel it, can’t you? The nerves."

"Hard not to."

Her eyes stayed on the students outside. "Every year they reshuffle the classes, the dorm groups, the missions. Everyone pretends it’s just procedure, but... it decides a lot. Who gets noticed. Who gets forgotten."

"Sounds political."

"It always is."

Merlin tilted his head. "You worried?"

Elara’s violet eyes flicked to him. "For me? No."

He smirked. "Confident."

"For the others," she corrected softly. "Yes."

He studied her for a moment, noticing the faint crease in her brow, the one that appeared when she was thinking too hard about other people.

"You care too much," he said quietly.

Elara turned toward him. "Someone has to."

He smiled faintly. "That’s the most Elara thing you could’ve said."

"Don’t start."

"I wasn’t mocking you."

"Yes, you were."

"Maybe a little."

She exhaled through her nose, half amusement, half exasperation. "You’re lucky you can get away with that tone."

"Maybe it’s the eyes."

She blinked. "What?"

He smiled, lazy and deliberate. "You always look away when I make eye contact too long."

"I do not."

"You do."

"I don’t."

He stood, closing the short distance between them. The sunlight hit his face, catching the faint amber glow in his irises. "You’re doing it right now."

Elara’s breath hitched ever so slightly, but her expression didn’t break. "You’re insufferable."

"And yet," he murmured, "you came here first thing in the morning."

Her mouth opened, probably to deny it, but no words came. Instead, she turned abruptly toward the window again, her voice lower now. "...You’re getting too good at this."

Merlin chuckled, stepping back to give her space. "You make it easy."

Elara shook her head, but a small, reluctant smile curved at the edge of her lips. "If you flirt like that around the other students, you’ll cause riots."

"I only do it when it matters."

"That’s even worse."

"Maybe."

She rolled her eyes, but her ears, betraying her completely, twitched just once, the faintest sign of color dusting their tips.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, stretched between them like sunlight.

Finally, Elara broke it. "I heard they’re announcing field assignments too."

Merlin looked over. "Already?"

"Mhm." She folded her arms, her posture shifting back to its usual composed self. "Top percentile students get first pick. The rest... well, we’ll see."

He smirked faintly. "You think they’ll make me go last to be ’fair’?"

"I think they’ll try. You’ll still end up first."

"Confidence again."

"Observation," she corrected.

He gave a small laugh. "Fair."

They left the dorms together not long after, walking down the open hallway overlooking the training fields. The morning breeze caught the edges of Elara’s hair, and she turned her face toward it briefly, eyes half-closed.

Merlin slowed a little, letting her walk just ahead. It was easy to forget sometimes that she wasn’t just calm, she embodied calm. A presence that made everything else feel less heavy.

When she noticed he’d fallen behind, she glanced over her shoulder. "You’re quiet."

"Just thinking."

"Dangerous habit."

"Coming from you?"

She smiled softly. "Touché."

They reached the main hall just before the crowd thickened. The massive silver archway gleamed under the morning light, banners of deep crimson and gold hanging from its pillars. The hum of mana through the walls gave the entire place a faint, living pulse.

Students filled the space, hundreds of them, clustered by class, chatting nervously or pretending not to be. A few waved to Elara as she entered; others simply looked at her the way most people did: with the faint awe reserved for someone untouchable.

Merlin noticed it, as he always did, but said nothing. He just walked beside her like it was natural.

They found the rest of the group near the center: Nathan, still chewing on a piece of bread he’d clearly stolen from the cafeteria; Lira, scrolling through something on her holowatch; and Seris, somehow half asleep while standing upright.

Nathan looked up first. "There he is! The academy’s golden boy, fresh from his mysterious night disappearance."

Merlin sighed. "Morning to you too."

Elara raised an eyebrow. "Mysterious night disappearance?"

Nathan grinned. "You vanished after the banquet. Everyone thought you teleported to another realm or something."

"Or," Lira said dryly, "he just went for a walk."

Nathan ignored her, smirking. "A walk with someone maybe?"

Elara’s expression didn’t change, but Merlin could feel her glance at him, faint but sharp.

He shot Nathan a look. "Careful."

"Oh-ho, defensive now?"

Lira sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You’re going to get fried one day, Nathan."

"Probably worth it."

Elara turned to the others, voice calm. "If you’re done teasing, you might want to pay attention. The announcement’s starting."

Right on cue, the vast mana-crystal array at the front of the hall flared to life. The crowd’s noise dimmed instantly as Morgana’s voice filled the chamber, not shouted, not loud, but carrying a quiet authority that settled like gravity.

"Students of Starpower Academy,"

"Your first year has concluded. Many of you have risen. Some of you have fallen. All of you have changed."

Her image appeared above the stage, arms folded, silver hair cascading down like threads of moonlight.

"Second-year placement is not a reward. It is a recalibration. The academy will test not who you were, but who you’ve become."

Her eyes seemed to glance through the projection, through time and space, and linger just a moment longer than necessary on Merlin’s section of the hall.

"Prepare yourselves."

The light dimmed. The murmurs began immediately.

Nathan leaned forward. "Recalibration, huh? That sounds like we’re about to get thrown into something awful."

Lira muttered, "When has it ever not been?"

Elara crossed her arms. "It won’t be easy."

Merlin, though, didn’t respond. His gaze stayed fixed on where Morgana’s image had been moments before.

Something in her expression, the brief flicker of it, felt deliberate. Directed.

He wasn’t sure if it was a warning... or an invitation.