I woke up in my room at the Academy.

  First—the ceiling. Familiar. White, with a faint crack in the corner.

  Then—a heaviness in my chest. Not pain. More like… pressure. As if something lay over my heart and wouldn’t let me breathe deeply.

  I lay there, remembering.

  The coliseum.

  The blows.

  The black vortex.

  Mira’s voice.

  Elinia…

  Was she alive? Was she okay?

  Thoughts clung to one another, but one kept returning again and again:

  If Mira hadn’t been there…

  I am dangerous.

  Not to enemies.

  To everyone.

  I lay there without moving for almost an hour. The room was quiet—too quiet for the Academy. No footsteps in the corridor, no laughter, no voices. As if the entire floor was being carefully avoided.

  Knock.

  Knock.

  I didn’t have time to answer.

  The door opened, and Mira walked in.

  She wasn’t wearing armor, no fire in her eyes. Just my sister. Tired. Alive.

  — So, little brother… — she said lightly, as if we’d met after an ordinary training session. — How are you? Arms and legs still in place? After yesterday.

  — Fine, — I answered.

  It was a lie, but she didn’t argue.

  Mira walked farther in, sat down on the edge of a chair, and looked at me closely—too closely for jokes.

  — After yesterday… — she hesitated. — People are genuinely afraid of you.

  I stayed silent.

  — Zenhald… — she continued more quietly. — It hurts me to say this, but even the crown is afraid of you now. After what happened.

  The words landed heavily. Not like a blow—like a verdict passed without trial.

  She straightened and added firmly:

  — But remember one thing. I’m with you.

  I always will be.

  Maybe not always nearby…

  but if you need my help, I’ll come.

  She smiled. Slightly crooked. Real.

  — Can you imagine? My little brother… and the whole kingdom is afraid of him.

  Should I laugh or cry?

  Probably… that’s an achievement.

  I didn’t have time to answer.

  Knock.

  Knock.

  This time—confident. Official.

  A servant of the Academy appeared in the doorway. He avoided looking me in the eyes.

  — Mister Zenhald, — he said with a small bow. — They want to speak with you.

  I sat up.

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  — Who?

  He swallowed.

  — The Director of the Academy.

  The Council.

  And… His Majesty the King.

  Mira slowly stood and looked at me.

  — Well, — she said quietly. — Looks like you’ve become too noticeable.

  I exhaled.

  That’s it.

  Now they’ll decide what I am.

  A person…

  or a threat.

  They led me through the corridors of the Academy.

  Our footsteps sounded dull, as if the walls were absorbing every sound.

  Mira walked beside me—calm, but I could feel the tension boiling inside her.

  The doors to the council hall opened on their own.

  A large room. A long table.

  People.

  Merchants—with cold eyes and golden rings.

  Judges—with faces accustomed to delivering sentences.

  The finest war mages—calm, dangerous.

  The King—straight, motionless, like a statue.

  The Director of the Academy—tired, but resolute.

  And at the very end…

  Merlin.

  Old. Very old.

  It felt as though what kept him in this world wasn’t his body, but sheer will. He looked at me as if he already knew how this would end.

  When I entered, everyone fell silent.

  The Director stood first.

  — Zenhald Helvard, — he said. — Do you understand why you’re here?

  I shrugged.

  — Uh… no. But judging by your faces, you’re all having a very important meeting.

  No one smiled.

  — Yesterday, — the Director continued, — you showed the entire nation how dangerous you are.

  — You’re just cowards! — Mira snapped sharply. — Weak! You’re afraid of what you can’t control!

  He acted as if he hadn’t heard her.

  — By order of His Majesty, — the Director inclined his head slightly toward the King, — you, Zenhald Helvard… are expelled from the Academy.

  Silence.

  Mira stepped forward.

  — Cowards, — she repeated louder. — They don’t fear monsters—they fear those stronger than themselves.

  I… exhaled.

  Honestly.

  And here I thought…

  They’d declare me an enemy of the people.

  Or burn me in the square.

  I looked at them and smiled. Calmly. Even lightly.

  — Huh… — I said. — So when can I go? Is now fine?

  For a moment, surprise hung in the hall.

  — …Yes, — the Director replied dryly. — You may go.

  I turned.

  Merlin had remained silent the whole time.

  Just watching.

  With sadness.

  Like someone who couldn’t protect another.

  Mira and I left.

  The corridors welcomed us again with silence.

  When the doors closed behind us, Mira finally spoke:

  — Well… what are your plans?

  I thought for a moment.

  — First I’ll go to the elves. Maybe they need my help.

  Then… I don’t know. Travel. See the world.

  I said it calmly. Honestly.

  Mira stopped and smiled.

  — My little brother… — she said softly. — Setting off on his own.

  She sighed.

  — Just this morning I swore I’d protect you…

  and now I can’t.

  I looked at her.

  — You already did, — I replied. — More than you think.

  She nodded.

  And in her eyes there was no weakness.

  Only farewell.

  I stood in the Academy courtyard.

  The stone beneath my feet was warm—still holding the day’s sun.

  Everything around looked… too ordinary. Towers. Arches. Flags.

  As if I hadn’t just been erased from this place.

  Mira was silent for a few seconds. Then she simply stepped forward and hugged me.

  Tightly. Truly.

  — During the holidays… — she said dully, pressing her face into my shoulder. — We’ll spend time together. Got it, Zen?

  I nodded.

  She suddenly sniffled.

  — Please… don’t disappear.

  If you do—I’ll turn this whole world upside down. I swear.

  I gently squeezed her shoulders.

  — I won’t disappear, — I said calmly. — I promise.

  She pulled back, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and tried to smile—boldly, as always.

  — Then go. Before I change my mind and start a revolution.

  I turned away.

  Noxus was waiting by the gate.

  My mount—black, tall, with intelligent eyes and a character every stablehand at the Academy knew. I swung into the saddle, patted his neck, and we set off.

  Once we passed the gates, Noxus snorted.

  — Listen… why do you even ride me?

  I blinked.

  — What do you mean?

  — Literally. You could make yourself a flying creature.

  A dragon. A manticore. Even a cloud with teeth.

  And here I am, working as transportation.

  I smirked.

  — Noxus, you know… I appreciate the classics.

  — Yeah, — he huffed. — Appreciates them. Until he gets bored.

  I sighed.

  — Fine.

  I raised my hand.

  Mana answered—not as a storm or a flash, but as a steady, confident flow. The air in front of us thickened, curled, took shape.

  Wings.

  Scales.

  A head with a lazy, intelligent gaze.

  — Oh, — Noxus drawled. — Of course. A dragon.

  I grabbed the reins, pulled Noxus closer—and in one motion transferred us both.

  — Hey! — he protested. — You could warn me!

  The dragon beat its wings.

  The ground fell away.

  The Academy remained behind—towers shrinking, the courtyard turning into a geometric pattern, then vanishing entirely.

  Ahead stretched the forest.

  Deep. Green. Alive.

  The elves’ trees.

  I looked forward and thought:

  The kingdom fears me.

  I was expelled from the Academy.

  And for the first time in a long while…

  I feel free.

  The dragon set course for the forest.

  And a new chapter of my life—began.