The Green Eyed Immortal.

The heavy wooden doors at the front of the hall groaned as they swung open, silencing the chatter instantly. Students straightened in their seats, and Mirielle lifted her gaze to the figure stepping inside.

At first, she thought she had misheard when they said Professor Donovan would be teaching this class. But as soon as she saw him, there was no mistaking it, Donovan, the same elder who had always been full of mischief and dramatic storytelling, was now walking into the room with absolute authority.

Gone was the familiar twinkle of amusement in his blue eyes. Gone was the easy-going grin or the exaggerated gestures.

Instead, this Donovan looked intimidating. He was clad in formal dark robes, embroidered with golden symbols of the university. His silver hair, which was usually tied loosely, was neatly combed back. His expression was unreadable, his gaze sharp and calculating as he observed the class.

Arian visibly tensed beside her. He leaned toward Mirielle and whispered, "Okay, I take it back. Maybe I should've been late."

Before Mirielle could respond, Donovan's voice rang out, measured, crisp, and devoid of his usual playful lilt.

"This is the History of Serenith," he began, stepping forward with the controlled precision of a seasoned lecturer. "A subject that will test not only your ability to memorize names and dates but your understanding of the foundation of the world you live in."

The room was utterly silent.

Mirielle had heard Donovan speak many times before, but never like this. She knew him as the eccentric elder who would dramatically fling himself onto the nearest chair when he was tired or the man who would teasingly call Arian 'little sprout' just to get a reaction out of him.

But this Donovan was entirely different.

His tone was firm, his posture unyielding, and there was not even the slightest hint of his usual playful antics.

"You may think of history as something to be passively learned," Donovan continued, his piercing gaze sweeping across the hall. "But history is not simply a collection of stories. It is a weapon. It is a warning. And if you fail to understand it, you will be doomed to repeat the mistakes of those who came before you."

A chill ran down Mirielle's spine.

Arian, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, muttered under his breath, "I liked him better when he was talking about the best places to buy pastries."

Donovan's sharp gaze flickered in their direction, and Arian instantly straightened, clamping his mouth shut.

Mirielle, though usually unreadable, felt the corner of her lips twitch ever so slightly.

"Since this is your first day," Donovan continued, ignoring the interruption, "I will keep it simple. You will learn about Serenith's founding, its wars, its rulers, and the forces that have shaped our world, both the seen and the unseen."

A few students exchanged nervous glances at the mention of unseen forces, a clear reference to the ancient powers that once roamed these lands, some of which still lingered in the shadows.

Donovan strode over to the grand blackboard behind him, picking up a piece of chalk. With fluid, practised movements, he began writing a name in elegant script: Serenith – The Birth of a Nation

"The story of Serenith is not one of peace," he said, setting the chalk down. "It is one of survival."

The class listened in complete attention as Donovan began his lecture, his voice steady and commanding.

Mirielle took notes quietly, but she couldn't help glancing at Donovan every so often, still adjusting to this completely different version of the man who had once ruffled Arian's hair and insisted that 'history was best told over a warm cup of tea.'

Even Arian, who had been prepared to doze off, was sitting up straight, paying attention.

As soon as Donovan exited the classroom, the heavy tension he had left in his wake seemed to dissipate. The moment the doors shut behind him, Arian let out a dramatic shudder, running a hand through his dark curls.

"That was terrifying," he muttered, slumping in his seat. "Who was that man, and what did he do to Donovan?"

Mirielle glanced at him but didn't respond. She had to admit, the change in Donovan's demeanour had been startling.

"I swear, I thought he was going to turn me into dust with just his stare," Arian continued, shivering exaggeratedly. "Why didn't you warn me he'd be like this?"

Mirielle merely blinked at him. How could she have known? Donovan had never shown this side of himself before.

Arian groaned, stretching his arms. "Alright, enough of this. Time to relax."

And just like that, the tension in him disappeared as a group of girls approached, eager to strike up a conversation.

"Hey, Arian, right?" One of them, a pretty fae girl with shimmering wings, leaned against his desk, twirling a strand of her blonde hair. "That was such an intense class. You must be exhausted."

Arian, ever the social butterfly, immediately turned his attention to her. "Oh, completely," he said with a charming grin. "I might need someone to help me recover."

Another girl, a siren with ocean-blue hair, giggled as she leaned closer. "Maybe we can study together sometime? History is so much easier when there's company."

"Absolutely," Arian agreed, flashing a winning smile. "I'm always up for—"

Mirielle tuned them out.

She wasn't surprised in the least. He loved attention, and people were naturally drawn to him.

The classroom slowly filled with idle chatter, as students discussed the intensity of the lesson, made plans, and got to know each other.

Mirielle, however, simply sat with her thoughts.

It had always been like this. Arian was the light in every room, and she was the shadow at the edges. It didn't bother her, if anything, she found comfort in solitude. There was something peaceful about it.

No expectations, no forced conversations—just quiet.

She let the voices around her fade into background noise, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the wooden desk.

Her moment of stillness, however, was soon interrupted.

The doors swung open once more, and the murmuring in the classroom came to a sudden halt.

A woman stepped in—tall, elegant, and utterly striking.

Her robes, though formal, clung to her figure in a way that made it clear they were tailored to highlight every curve. Her movements were fluid, almost hypnotic, and her deep red lips curled into an amused smile as she glanced around the room.

The reaction was immediate.

The boys in the class straightened in their seats, suddenly alert and attentive. Some of them elbowed each other, exchanging impressed looks.

Arian, in particular, let out a low whistle. "Now this," he muttered under his breath, "is going to be an interesting class."

The woman walked to the front of the room, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement as she took in the eager stares directed at her.

She let the silence stretch for a few seconds before she finally spoke, her voice smooth and commanding.

"I am Raven," she said, her gaze sweeping over the students. "And I will be teaching you Mind Manipulation."

A hushed murmur ran through the room. The subject's name alone excited curiosity. Mind Manipulation is one of the most fascinating and controversial branches of magic.

The ability to influence thoughts, perceptions, and even actions.

Some students straightened eagerly, while others shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

Before anyone could get too carried away, Raven's eyes narrowed slightly, and her smirk widened.

"Before you all get too excited," she continued smoothly, "this can only be used on humans and rogue creatures."

The moment the words left her lips, a collective groan filled the room.

A few students slumped back in their seats, clearly disappointed.

"No manipulating friends?" A boy in the back muttered.

"No charming professors?" Another lamented.

Raven let out a low, amused chuckle. "You may attempt to charm me," she said, tilting her head, "but I assure you, you will fail."

A few students laughed nervously, though the weight behind her words made it clear she wasn't joking.

Mirielle simply observed quietly.

Raven intrigued her.

She wasn't like any professor Mirielle had encountered before. Her presence was powerful, almost intoxicating as if just being near her made people want to listen. She didn't need mind magic to command attention, she already had it.