Chp 8

Pearl

The elderly man with the long beard, who was in charge of the examination, suddenly made another announcement while still seated. I remained at my place, but different thoughts began to cloud my mind.

I clenched my fists under the table. Peanuts, wasn’t it? Ugh, I hate him. Why does he have to be so good at everything and act like he knows it all? And why did my heart do that weird flutter thing when he spoke? No, no, no—focus, Pearl. He's just another arrogant noble with a perfect brain, a perfect face, and a perfectly punchable smirk. You're not here to get distracted by perfect problems. You're here to survive.

“The ones who are done with the examination can leave the room,” the elderly man said in a stern voice.

I quietly gathered my belongings and walked out. There was a huge tree in the yard, and a bench right below it. I didn’t realize giving an examination would be so exhausting. I’m smart enough to crack any test, but giving an oral examination in front of a crowd is hectic!

I took a seat and began to sip some water. Then I placed the bottle back into my bag and looked around. The surroundings were peaceful. The courtyard was beautiful—more than I expected. It was surrounded by tall stone buildings, their walls covered in ivy like nature was trying to soften their seriousness. The ground beneath my boots was paved with smooth cobblestones, worn down in places, telling stories of how many students had walked here before me. Right in the center stood a massive tree, its branches stretched out wide like it was trying to shield us all. The shade it cast was cool and comforting, and there were stone benches nestled around its roots, perfect for tired scholars—like me—to collapse on.

Lining the walls were statues of old scholars, each one frozen mid-thought, holding books or scrolls, their faces carved with focus and wisdom. There was something comforting about them, like they were silently reminding us to do better, be better. A soft breeze blew through the courtyard, bringing with it the scent of grass and old paper—oddly calming, considering how tense I’d been all morning. For a moment, it didn’t feel like I was hiding or pretending. It felt like I belonged here.

I tilted my head upward to let the cool breeze brush against my face, closing my eyes.

Suddenly, I felt someone’s warm hands touch both my cheeks.

I quickly opened my eyes—and there he was. The guy who stole my bracelet. What was his name again? Right—Rowan Velhart.

I immediately shoved his hands off and moved away. He had that wicked smile on his face.

“What are you looking at? And I hate when someone touches me without my permission,” I said, crossing my arms in front of my chest. He always tried to touch me, and it was so annoying. I had never been close to guys. It’s weird how casually they interact with their so-called guy friends.

“I’m sorry. I know you were enjoying the cold breeze. I was bored, so I thought I’d come bother you,” he said casually, with a huge grin, running his hand through his hair.

“Please keep your hands to yourself,” I replied, turning my face away from him. I had no interest in talking to him right now. I hoped he’d take the hint and leave.

But no—this guy decided to sit right next to me. Not only that, he sat so close and casually draped one arm around my shoulder. My face turned red instantly. No guy had ever done that to me. I wanted to shove his hand off, but I stopped myself. If I did, he might suspect I was a girl. Maybe this is normal between boys… so I should carry on with the act.

I cleared my throat and looked at him. “Why are you sitting next to me? You first took the bracelet I liked, and now you’re acting all innocent like you’ve done nothing to annoy me,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

He laughed again. “Why are you so obsessed with that bracelet? Oh, don’t tell me you’re still a little child who cries when they don’t get what they want,” he teased with a loud laugh.

God, this man is getting on my nerves.

I angrily shoved his arm off and tried to get up so I could sit somewhere else. But just as I stood, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back down.

I quickly freed myself from his grip and glared at him. “What are you doing? I don’t want to sit next to you. Just go away,” I snapped, arms crossed again.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he said, lifting his hands in surrender. “I won’t laugh at you again. I actually came here to tell you that you were great out there. The way you answered the questions with confidence—I appreciate that. I doubted your skills at first, but after watching the examination, I can say you’re impressive.”

He smiled gently.

Whatever he just said melted my anger. A small smile appeared on my face. No one had ever complimented me on my skills before—but he just did. Maybe he’s arrogant, but he’s not all bad. I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

"I'll take my leave then and let you enjoy the scenery," he said before walking off in the opposite direction.

I smiled to myself, still thinking about what he had said. Suddenly, I saw the group of bullies heading my way—they must have finished their oral exams. As always, they moved like a pack. Gosh, they’re so annoying, and I'm really not in the mood to deal with them right now. But should I just leave? If I do, they’ll think I’m scared, and that’ll only encourage them to come after me more. No. It’s better to face them and be done with it once and for all.

They surrounded me, arms folded across their chests. Their leader stepped forward while the others stood behind like obedient pets.

"What do you want now?" I asked, keeping my tone serious.

“We’ve finished the examination, and guess what? It went great,” he said smugly. “So we’re not going to fail—but if we pass, we’ll make your life here miserable every single day.”

He leaned in close, his voice lowering. “Pretty boy, who’s going to save you from us? Better pray you fail, or we’ll make sure you leave this academy on your own.”

I clenched my fists, tempted to slap him across the face. Control yourself, Pearl. He wants you to react. If I fight him, I’ll be kicked out before I’ve even started. He’s trying to provoke me—but I won’t fall for it.

I leaned toward him and whispered back, “Bring it on,” with a confident smirk. They think strength is everything, but brains matter too—and that’s what I have. All they’ve got are muscles and pride. What a waste.

He looked at me, puzzled. I could tell he was trying to figure out why I wasn’t scared. Did he think I’d be unprepared? I’m not that naïve. I wouldn’t have come here if I wasn’t ready.

I brushed past him, bumping his shoulder, and walked away.

That’s when I noticed the rest of the students filing out of the hall. It looked like the exam was over—finally, it was time for the results. Excitement surged through me. I rushed forward to the front of the crowd so I wouldn’t miss anything, especially with my height disadvantage.

The elderly man stood before us, hands behind his back and eyes closed. Beside him stood a young assistant holding a scroll.

They were about to announce who passed and who failed. I knew I gave it my all—there’s no way I’m not passing. Nothing can stop me from entering this university.

The elderly man raised one hand, commanding silence. The courtyard grew still. Even the wind seemed to pause. Beside him stood a younger boy gripping a long scroll with both hands.

“We shall now announce the names of those who have successfully passed the entrance examination,” the man said, his deep voice echoing across the courtyard. “These individuals will begin their journey as scholars at the academy.”

I held my breath. My heart pounded in my chest. Around me, students leaned forward, eyes filled with either hope or dread.

The boy began reading names. One by one, students stepped forward, expressions ranging from joy to tears to quiet pride.

My legs trembled slightly. Then I heard it—

“Perin Dale.”

That was me.

I froze for a second before my feet moved. I stepped forward, trying not to show the overwhelming relief that rushed through me like a storm. I passed. I did it. Despite everything—my disguise, the fear, the pressure—I had made it through.

There were no cheers. No applause. But I didn’t need them.

I looked over my shoulder. The bullies were glaring, shocked. Good. Let them know I wasn't going anywhere.

The man continued reading names, but there was no mention of anyone being selected for any elite division—not yet. That was a small relief. Everyone would be starting on the same level. It meant I had time to grow. Time to rise.

I didn’t come here to be ordinary, though. I came to uncover the truth. To avenge my parents. And to survive. Passing the test was just step one. Now, the real challenge begins. As I stepped back into the crowd, trying to keep my expression neutral, I caught the flicker of movement to my left. The gang of bullies stood in a tight cluster, just behind a pillar. Their leader—broad-shouldered and always sneering—was glaring at me like I had just personally insulted his bloodline.

“He passed?” he muttered under his breath, as if the words themselves offended him.

One of his friends leaned in, whispering, “How? He’s just a pretty-faced runt.”

I tilted my head slightly, pretending not to hear—but I heard every word.

The leader clenched his jaw, fists tightening at his sides. “This isn’t over,” he hissed. “I don’t care how many tests he passes. That little brat’s not lasting long here.” I smirked to myself. Let them burn with jealousy. Let them wonder how a ‘weak little pretty boy’ outsmarted them because I wasn’t here to make friends. I was here to win.

“All those who have passed, please move to the other side. You will be provided with your uniforms, and we will inform you of the next steps,” the young boy announced in a loud voice while gesturing toward the other side of the courtyard.

We all began moving in that direction to collect our uniforms. As I entered the designated room, I noticed several men dressed in black outfits with their faces covered by black cloth. They were the ones distributing the uniforms. From what I’ve observed so far, the workers here wear black, and the instructors wear royal-colored robes. Apparently, the color of the robe also signifies their grade or rank. This is so fascinating! I think I'm going to love this place—I love challenges, and this academy feels like a never-ending one. I couldn't help but smile as I moved ahead in line.

Soon, I collected my uniform. The uniform was neatly folded and tied with a dark velvet ribbon. As I untied it and lifted the fabric, I felt a mix of awe and curiosity. The outer robe was a deep, earthy brown—plain yet dignified—signifying that we were new initiates, still unranked in the academy's hierarchy. The material was thick but soft, perfect for the colder weather in the highlands.

Beneath it was a cream-colored inner shirt made of breathable cotton, tailored close to the body but not too tight—ideal for long hours of study and training. The trousers were dark gray, straight-cut, and fastened with a simple leather belt that bore the academy’s emblem: a quill crossed over a sword.

There was also a badge sewn onto the robe’s chest—an embroidered sigil in silver thread. I wasn’t sure what it meant yet, but it looked like a crescent moon encircling a flame. Mysterious and elegant.

Even the boots provided were sturdy, polished, and made for long walks through the sprawling campus. Everything about the uniform screamed discipline and tradition.

I then moved towards the exit, at the exit, there was another worker standing by, giving instructions. I approached him, arms full, still smiling widely. He handed me a number tag—number 20.

I stared at the tag, trying to figure out what it was for. After a full minute of overthinking, I looked up at the man with a confused expression. Without speaking, he simply gestured for me to head toward another direction. I followed his cue and walked on.

That’s when I realized the number corresponded to the dormitory we were assigned to. There was a large board with dorm numbers and names listed beneath each. I quickly searched for dorm number 20 and found it. My name was written there... but so were three others. I read them aloud, almost in disbelief.

“Rowan, Demyan, Killian….”

What the hell?! Rowan? Are you serious?! Why is he in my dorm?!