THE CHOOSEN ONES

The morning arrived slower than a sloth on vacation. I pried my eyes open, only to be greeted by sunlight that felt like it was personally attacking me.

Blinking away the glare, I took in the familiar sight of my room—or, as I liked to call it, my "luxury cell." My body ached like I'd been used as a training dummy for a particularly enthusiastic troll. Yep, no doubt about it. I was definitely back in the past.

I sat up, clutching my head like it might roll away if I didn't hold it in place. A bandage was wrapped around my skull, which was throbbing like it had its own heartbeat. Ugh, this weak body of mine couldn't even heal a stubbed toe, let alone whatever mess I'd gotten myself into last night.

"What a terrible student!" 

A deep, velvety voice yanked me out of my pity party. I turned my head—ouch, bad idea—to see none other than Edwin Ronald, my so-called mentor, leaning against the wall by my window like he owned the place.

"What are you doing here, Master?" I gasped, my voice cracking like a teenager's. Seriously, breaking into the Duke's daughter's room? Not cool.

"You call me master, yet on the first day of your class, you're both half-cooked and late," he drawled, narrowing his eyes like a disappointed parent. I glanced at the clock. 11 a.m. Oops.

"Something... happened," I said, offering a nervous laugh that sounded more like a hiccup. "But still, what are you doing here?" I eyed him suspiciously. 

He looked like he'd stepped out of a fashion catalog for eccentric mages. His mid-length black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he was rocking a sky-blue shirt, white pants, and an imperial blue robe with silver embroidery. The sleeves were rolled up, because apparently even mages need to show off their forearms. Hard to believe this man was a 40-year-old lunatic. 

"I know I'm handsome, Foxy," he said with a grin that could charm the scales off a dragon. 

I rolled my eyes so hard I almost gave myself a headache. "Why are you here?" 

He sauntered over and pinched my cheeks like I was a five-year-old. "You're my student, Foxy. So, I'm going to drop by from time to time." 

I narrowed my eyes. "Since when do you take such good care of your students, Master?" 

He looked at me like I'd just asked why the sky was blue. "Today?" he said, tilting his head like a confused puppy. 

I couldn't help but laugh. This man was as unpredictable as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. It reminded me of Claude, the guy I'd met on the battlefield. Same chaotic energy, same knack for giving me heart palpitations. They are father-son for a reason.

"What's so funny?" he asked, stepping back and crossing his arms. "I've never taken a disciple before, so consider yourself lucky to have a master like me, Foxy." 

I nodded, still grinning. "Lucky me," I said, though my gut was still screaming at me to be cautious. My instincts had saved me more times than I could count, and right now, they were whispering that something about Edwin wasn't adding up. 

"So, who did this half-baked healing?" He asked, gesturing to my bandaged head. 

I winced at the memory. Last night, Ezekian had tried to heal me with his limited divine power. It was sweet, really, but about as effective as using a band-aid to fix a broken leg. 

"Someone," I said, a soft smile tugging at my lips. 

"Your lover?" Edwin asked, his tone dripping with mischief. 

I looked down at my lap, my cheeks heating up. "My temporary fiancé, you could say," I mumbled. 

Edwin didn't miss a beat. He grabbed my head, and I froze like a deer in torchlight. "What are you doing?" I squeaked.

"Stay still, Foxy, or you'll snap your neck," he warned, his voice calm but laced with menace. 

My heart raced. Oh no, was he about to perform some weird mind magic? AHHH—NOOOOO— 

I clenched my eyes shut, bracing for the worst. But instead of feeling my brain turn to mush, I felt a warm, golden light envelop me. The pain in my head vanished, and the bandages around my knees and arms unraveled themselves. Even the ache in my ribs and waist disappeared. 

I opened my eyes, staring at Edwin like he'd just pulled a rabbit out of a hat. "You can heal?" 

He looked almost embarrassed. "I'm not hailed as the greatest mage of my time for no reason, Foxy." 

I giggled and jumped out of bed, feeling lighter than a feather. "Wait a minute," I said, freezing mid-bounce. My eyes widened. "You can use divine power?" 

Edwin nodded like it was no big deal. My heart sank. 

"It might not be common knowledge, but..." He snapped his fingers, and suddenly the room was filled with tiny golden orbs of light. They floated around like fireflies, and when one landed on my shoulder, I felt my aura grow stronger. 

"I can wield divine power," he said casually. 

My blood ran cold. This changed everything. 

In this world, demonic power could mimic any magical form—except divine power. Those who worshipped demons could never use it. And Edwin's divine energy was so strong, it practically glowed. 

The man standing before me was never involved with demons. 

I felt a mix of relief and anger. Relief because my gut had been right all along. Anger because, well, this man had just turned my entire world upside down—again. 

Still, I can't say it's an entirely bad thing. At least I have got myself a mentor.