Your first stop: the Literature Club.
As you and your group approached, you spotted two figures already deep in discussion. One stood with a calm, commanding presence, his long dreadlocks framing a thoughtful expression as he listened. The other, noticeably more reserved, shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the conversation, his white feathered wings twitching with unease.
Madhi Alclaris was the first to notice you. The dorm leader of Obsidianspire turned with an easy smile, his sharp brown eyes taking in each of you as though weighing the truth of your presence.
“Welcome,” he greeted. His voice was smooth, measured—like someone who thought carefully before he spoke. “Interested in the Literature Club?”
You barely had time to respond before he gestured to the space behind him. The club’s booth was simple yet inviting. A display of handwritten manuscripts sat beside a stack of books, some familiar, some worn with time. Neatly placed cards invited students to submit their own works for upcoming writing contests.
Madhi continued, his passion evident, “Here, we explore written worlds. We analyze literature, write our own, and occasionally debate the impact of words. We host contests for poetry, short stories, and even scriptwriting.” He folded his arms, his gaze steady. “Honesty is important here. Every piece deserves genuine critique, not empty praise.”
Cygnus Downwood, standing slightly behind him, seemed less certain about addressing you. The swan beastman cast a quick glance at Rune before lowering his eyes. His fingers tightened around the edge of his sleeve.
“W-We also have a reading circle…” he offered quietly, his voice barely above the murmurs of the courtyard. “For people who, um, prefer not to write but still love stories.”
Elric took a moment to scan the books before shaking his head. “I do like to read, but I want to see the other clubs first.”
Rune, polite as ever, gave a small nod. “I prefer drawing over writing, but it’s an impressive setup.”
Fibble, perched on your shoulder, gave a theatrical sigh. “We already have to read so much for class. Why would anyone do it voluntarily?”
Madhi smirked slightly but didn’t argue. Instead, he inclined his head as you moved on.
The Gardening Club’s booth was surrounded by potted plants and fragrant herbs. Some students knelt in the soil, demonstrating proper techniques for newcomers. The air smelled of damp earth and fresh greenery.
“Tsuki!”
The greeting came from a short, chubby beastman with pinkish skin and an enthusiastic wave. Porcus Huffsbrick beamed at the sight of your companion, his round ears twitching.
Rune blinked in mild surprise. “Huh. You know each other?”
Porcus laughed. “Of course! Tsuki is one of the first years of my dorm! As the vice-dormleader I must know all the new faces.”
Fibble, from his spot on your shoulder, hummed. “You know, Tsuki’s so quiet, I almost forgot he was here.”
Elric winced slightly, then coughed. “Ah… yeah. Sorry about that.”
Rune rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, Tsuki.”
Tsuki only offered a small, apologetic nod of his own from behind you three. “I… should have spoken up more.” His voice was soft, as always. “I should have defended Rune back there, but I didn’t.”
Rune waved him off with a smile. “It’s fine.”
Porcus took a moment to glance between them before launching into an enthusiastic explanation of the club. “We do regular gardening in the greenhouse, work on projects, and sometimes help with the school’s farm. No payment—just a club activity, but it’s rewarding.”
Tsuki nodded, interested. “I really love gardening.”
After some thought, he made his decision. “I’ll join. I’ll stay at the booth and talk with the others.”
With a quick goodbye, you, Rune, and Elric left him to his plants.
The Music & Dance Club was next. Here, Lyricis Farahdein stood near a violin case, chatting with another student.
At your approach, the small first-year jolted in surprise, nearly knocking over his instrument. “Ah!”
Immediately, he turned red and bowed his head. “S-Sorry! I didn’t see you there. I get startled easily…”
Rune chuckled. “Yeah, I remember you from the Resonance Ceremony. You resonate with Little Brother, right?”
At the mention of his Resonance, Lyricis stiffened. His gaze flicked toward Rune’s tail. The way his expression faltered made it clear he was staring at it—not with curiosity, but with unease.
Rune’s laughter faded. He understood immediately.
Elric bristled, but Rune stopped him with a subtle shake of his head. He smiled, but it was a different kind of smile—one that acknowledged what Lyricis was thinking without needing to say it aloud.
A small, embarrassed silence stretched between them before Lyricis found his voice. “S-Sorry.”
Rune simply nodded. “It’s fine.”
None of you had an interest in the club after that, so you bid a quick farewell.
The Cooking Club’s stall was more than just a table—it was a fully operational station, complete with freshly made crepes being served.
At the center of the operation stood Ambrosine Forrant, vice-dormleader of Obsidianspire. His golden skin gleamed in the sunlight, his four arms working with mechanical efficiency as he prepared food while simultaneously handling recruitment.
Elric hesitated, torn between curiosity and politeness. “It’s my first time meeting an insectoid beastfolk. I’d like to ask questions, but… I don’t want to be rude.”
Ambrosine barely spared him a glance, too focused on his work. “If you were rude, you wouldn’t be worried about it.” He plated another crepe with practiced ease. “If you’re truly curious, ask later. Right now, I’m talking about the club.”
His demeanor was sharp, methodical—overly serious, even.
Fibble whispered, "Does he measure his life in crepe efficiency? Because this is the most intense cooking I’ve ever seen."
Rune, attempting to ease the tension, added with a grin, "Do you ever take a break, or is the spatula an extension of your arm at this point?"
It did not go over well.
Ambrosine’s sharp glare was enough to make you all decide to move on.
The Chess Club was a disaster before you even reached it.
Heated voices clashed over the board, with Khamari Duneshade standing with his arms crossed, his posture exuding smug control, while Archer Verdain looked ready to flip the table.
“You’re just mad because my strategy works.”
“Your strategy is nonsense.”
“Then why are you losing?”
Elric whispered. “Let’s skip this one.”
None of you argued.
Your next stop was the Science Club.
Hatterick Marchhare, who was first to receive his Resonance this year, was in the middle of an animated ramble, waving his hands wildly as he spoke to the club leder, who looked utterly lost in the whirlwind of words.
"—and you see, if you mix a little bit of star essence with the right amount of condensed cloud vapor, you technically create the basis for theoretical flying ink, which would, of course, be ideal for self-writing books! But the problem is the ink might also gain sentience, and then you'd have books that argue with you when you try to read them. Which is why—oh! Hey new friends!"
Hatterick Marchhare was happily babbling nonsense to Noel D’Orveil, who looked lost in the whirlwind of words and almost relieved he finally turned to someone else.
When your little group greeted him, Hatterick immediately looked towad Rune. Without hesitation, he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Rune’s tail as if it were an old friend. "Ah, a most excellent tail! So fluffy! So full of character! It must have opinions on things, does it not?"
The tail, delighted, hugged back, while Rune was staring, surprised.
"He" he murmured.
Noel, who had been watching with an expression of pure delight, clapped his hands together. "Oh! That fur looks so soft! Can I—?"
With a nod from Rune, Noel eagerly stepped forward and gently ran his fingers through the soft fur. The tail purred in satisfaction, curling happily around his arm.
Fibble rolled his eyes. "Great. Now we’re forming a fan club for the tail. Should I start taking membership applications?"
That, at least, was a warm continuity to your tour, even if it was accompanied by Hatterick's continuing musings about sentient ink and Noel’s fascination with tail grooming.
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