I blinked awake, the infirmary coming into view around me as my vision unblurred. 

Above me, a massive chandelier shaped like a phoenix dangled from the ceiling, its form blazing with fire that would never go out. The flames danced and flickered with soft, rhythmic hisses and pops, warming the air and casting an orange-red glow across the room. 

The comforting aroma of a campfire filled my lungs, the scent soothing and nostalgic, like being wrapped in a blanket on a chilly night. Which was kinda ironic, because I had only been around a campfire once when my dad had dragged me kicking and screaming into the woods for a camping trip. I’d spent the whole weekend practically bathing in bug spray and developing more back problems from sleeping on the ground than the actual middle-aged man who’d come with me. So, yeah, in summary—this campfire smell was considerably more relaxing than that one.  

Shelves shaped like outstretched wings jutted from the infirmary walls, packed with a colorful array of potions, herbs, and elixirs, all sealed in glass jars that glistened under the fire’s light. The beds beneath them resembled enormous nests, their round forms sculpted from golden twigs. Lined with heavy, luxurious blankets and plush pillows, the bedding was covered in shimmering feathers of orange and red. Said feathers rustled beneath me as I sat up. 

“So you’re finally awake,” a familiar voice drawled. “I was getting worried I’d be stuck here all night.”

I looked up to find Lucian standing beside the bed, his arms crossed. 

“How long was I out for?” I mumbled, rolling out a crick in my neck. 

“About forty-five minutes,” Lucian replied, shoving a bowl of soup in front of my face. “The feast is pretty much over already, and the head nurse Madame Neeps said she didn’t think it was a good idea for you to go back, so I brought you something to eat.”

The soup sloshed in its wooden bowl as he handed it over, a watery orange concoction with little yellow chunks floating in it. 

“You couldn’t have gotten me like… cake or something?” I said. 

Lucian shrugged. “You fainted so I didn’t know if you’d have an appetite.”

“I’m a growing young man,” I said, pounding on my chest with one hand like Tarzan. “Of course I have an appetite!”

Lucian smirked. “Well I wouldn’t have guessed since you’re scrawnier than a gnome who was struck by lightning and split into two tiny gnomes—”

My leg shot out from the blankets, kicking him in the shin. “First off, stop with the nonsensical gnome metaphors, I literally have no idea what they mean. Second, from what I was able to decipher from that gnome metaphor, you were being really rude and a total dickhead.”

Lucian blinked. “Dickhead?” Then his face lit up and he clapped his hands together. “Ah, I see! Another nickname! Once again, I’m overjoyed that our friendship is so strong that we can joke insult each other.”

“I wasn’t…” I groaned, leaning back against the feathery pillows. “Whatever, forget it.”

“We need to get your strength back up. I can’t have a henchma—err… a friend with low energy. And soup is great. I mean, who doesn’t love soup?” He grabbed a spoon and scooped up the orange liquid. “C’mon try!”

My lips parted to protest, but Luican took it as an invitation and shoved the spoon into my mouth.  

Great. So now I was literally getting spoon-fed by the villain of the Owen Thorn series. God, this was something right out of a Y/N fanfiction. Except I would rather die than read self-insert x Lucian, let alone actually experience it. 

The soup was warm on my tongue. I wondered if Lucian had cast a spell to heat it up. It had a rich, earthy flavor, with the sweet hint of carrots perfectly balanced by a surprising dash of cinnamon. Despite all odds, even I had to admit—it was pretty damn good. 

I glanced up at Lucian, who was staring at me intently, his eyes never leaving my face.

“So?” he said. “Do you like it?”

I sighed. “Yeah.” I shifted in the feathery blankets, fingers curling against them. “And thanks for bringing me the soup. It was a nice sentiment.”

Even if it was just to further his own evil agenda. 

“What exactly happened to make you faint?” Lucian asked. “Are you sick?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I just didn’t expect him to be so attractive.”

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“Owen Thorn of course.”

I didn’t know it was possible for a person to experience twenty different emotions in the span of only five seconds, but somehow Lucian did it. His brows shot up to his hairline one moment, then his mouth dropped open like a cartoon character the next. His face cycled through a series of exaggerated expressions, from shock to confusion to horror to outright bewilderment.

Finally he settled on a long, judgmental stare. “You fainted… because you thought Owen Thorn… was hot?”

I sank down in the plush, feathered blankets. “Well, it sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

“It sounds stupid no matter how you say it!” Lucian roared. “Honestly, I am at a loss for words.” 

But clearly, he wasn’t because he immediately launched into a rant. 

“And seriously, Owen Thorn of all people?” Lucian began to pace back and forth, throwing his hands in the air. “Didn’t you just see how he makes everything about him all the time? He could have just walked in like a normal person, but no, nooooooooo, he rides in on a fucking serpent! And what was with walking across the table? Even you can’t deny that he only did it to be dramatic. We eat on that table! Do you know how unsanitary that is? The bloody self-centered son of a—”

“Look wha' we hae here.” The words were nearly impossible to distinguish through the thick Scottish accent of Madame Neeps, the Draconia Nurse. She was an elf with fiery red hair, done up in two ponytails that seemed to explode out from her head. She wore a purple dress, marking her as an Alchemancer, an apron covered in frills draped over it. “It’s no' every day a student gets sent here afore classes even start.”

“I’ll try not to make a habit of it,” I said, flashing her a smile. 

I tried to climb out of bed, but Madame Neeps surged forward, pushing me back down with an arm strength that put most WWE wrestlers to shame.

“Nah-ah-ah. No sae fast, young'un. Ye’re stayin’ in bed until we figure oot what made ye faint so sudden-like.”

“It was a hot guy,” Lucian stated bluntly.

My face went bright red. 

Madame Neeps squinted, cocking her head like a bird. “Whit d’ye mean?”

“I-I think what Lucian is trying to say is that this is actually a pretty nuanced situation—”

“What I mean is that Nemo literally just looked at a hot guy and then got so thirsty he fainted.” Lucian said, meeting her with a blank stare. 

Cheeks burning, I braced myself for judgment.

But to my surprise, Madame Neeps just snorted. “Ah, I see. Weel, if it mak's ye feel any better, young fella, ye’re no' the first this hae happened tae.”

I blinked in surprise. “Really? 

“I’ve worked here a lang time,” Madame Neeps said with a sage-like nod. “Aye, the last case I had like this was tae do wi' a young Headmaster Banecliff. He was quite the looker when he was young and attended school here.” She grinned, offering me a cheeky wink. “Still is, mind ye.”

Lucian pulled a face. “Ew, okay I do not need to hear about people lusting after our headmaster.” He nodded toward the door. “You ready to go, Nemo?”

“For the last time,” I said, swinging myself off the bed, “it’s Niko.”

“Yeah, yeah, Nibo, I got it,” Lucian said, making his way to the door. “I’ll remember it this time.”

Madame Neeps laughed, waving as I chased after him. “Goodbye! And wee Niko, please dinnae make a habit o’ faintin’ at every handsome lad ye see.”

My face heated once more, “I won’t, Miss!”

And with that, I bolted out the door. 

I caught up to Lucian on the winding steps leading up the clock tower that housed the dormitories.

As we ascended, the rhythmic ticking of the clock grew louder, a steady, comforting beat that accompanied our climb. The air was tinged with the faint scent of aged wood and stone, a millennium of history contained within these very walls. 

We soon neared the top, where Lucian’s room was located (I knew exactly where it was, thanks to Owen’s visit in book five). As we approached, my gaze was drawn to the open window beside the door.

Unable to resist the temptation, I stuck my head out. 

The view was nothing short of breathtaking. Draconia Academy lay sprawled out beneath me, illuminated by the shimmering lights from the three Schools of Magic. Students made their way across the courtyard below, the sound of their laughter carrying through the night. All the while, colorful swirls of magic danced through the surrounding darkness. 

The wind picked up, sending my hair dancing around my face as a massive grin spread across it. 

“Hey,” Lucian barked, waiting beside the open door to our room, “You coming or what, Nibo?”

I was so happy that I didn’t even bother to correct him as I charged inside, ready to start my life as an actual student of Draconia Academy.