We had been riding all day.

  The sound of the wheels started to hypnotize me.

  I lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying that moment over and over in my head.

  Alexia’s hand in my hair.

  It was… strange.

  Warm.

  I wanted to close my eyes and—honestly—purr like a satisfied cat.

  I wanted her not to stop.

  The thought sent a cold sweat down my spine.

  “Disgusting, Greg, get it together!” I mentally slapped myself. “You enjoy being petted like a house animal? Is that manipulation? Or… attachment? Ugh. Pathetic. Or not pathetic?”

  I got confused.

  Being a monster is easier — no feelings, just hunger and boredom.

  Being human is a constant headache.

  To distract myself, I started bothering the sisters.

  “Are we there yet?”

  “No.”

  “What about now?”

  “Greg, be quiet!”

  “How much longer?”

  “SOON, DAMN IT!” Lianelle finally snapped.

  “How soon is ‘soon’? Hours? Minutes? Seconds?”

  They growled.

  I figured I was about to get thrown out of the carriage mid-ride, so I decided to get some air.

  Clap.

  I teleported onto the roof of the carriage, breathed in the wind, then into a passing village, bought an apple—

  —and clap — back into the carriage, chewing.

  The sisters stared at me like I was a glitching ghost.

  They said nothing.

  The next morning I woke up to shaking.

  “Good morning, Greg,” Alexia said tiredly. “About three hours left. So fix yourself up bef—”

  She stopped.

  Her eyes widened.

  Lianelle stared at me in horror.

  “GREG! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR EYE?!”

  “What about it?” I scratched my eyelid. “Changed color again?”

  “Worse,” Alexia breathed. “It’s… split.”

  I grabbed a small mirror (confiscated from Alexia yesterday).

  Yeah.

  My right eye was divided by a clean vertical line.

  Left half — black abyss.

  Right half — white sclera.

  Like two different beings stitched together.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Stylish,” I evaluated. “Geometric.”

  “Can you hide that?!” Lianelle panicked. “Different colored eyes were bad enough. But THIS? This is terrifying! The Academy will send you straight to a lab for experiments! Hide it! We’re almost there!”

  I frowned.

  “If they don’t want me the way I am, why should I go at all? Forget it.”

  The sisters looked at me with a mixture of anger and pleading.

  I gave in.

  “Fine. Stop whining. I’ll fix it.”

  Clap.

  Forest.

  Dark. Damp. Pine scent.

  In front of me — a den.

  “Sorry, brother,” I said into the darkness. “I really need this.”

  A massive brown bear crawled out, blinking sleepily.

  “Rrr?”

  “I’ll be gentle,” I promised.

  Snap.

  Paralyzed.

  “Don’t move. I’m a doctor. Almost.”

  I pulled out a small fruit knife (borrowed from the dining table) and carefully sliced the thinnest layer from his cornea.

  The forest exploded with a roar of pain and confusion.

  The bear cried.

  “Done, done!” I finished quickly.

  Green light flared from my palm.

  The eye healed instantly.

  Vision restored.

  “See? You’re fine.”

  The bear crawled into the corner of the den, trembling, covering his face with his paws.

  Lifetime psychological trauma: secured.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  I shaped the thin layer into a lens, cleaned it, refined it.

  Clap.

  Back in the carriage.

  “WHOSE EYE DID YOU RIP OUT?!” Alexia shrieked, seeing the blood on my hands.

  “Just… some bear,” I waved it off. “Didn’t rip it out. Borrowed part of it. He’s alive.”

  I inserted the makeshift lens.

  The blackness dulled.

  Now the eye looked muddy brown. Almost normal.

  “Well?”

  The sisters stared.

  “Well…” Lianelle muttered. “The black is gone. But…”

  “What?”

  “Your eye… it’s crooked now,” Alexia sighed. “Very crooked. You look… simple.”

  “Fine!” I threw up my hands. “Your distant relative is like this. Cross-eyed but soulful. Accept it.”

  At that moment the carriage stopped.

  “We’ve arrived,” Lianelle said bleakly. “The Great Academy. And we… brought this.”

  SCENE: The Orb, Kindergarten Math, and Subtle Humor

  Carriages stopped.

  Doors opened.

  The princesses glided out under admiring gasps.

  I slipped out the other side, trying to blend into a wall.

  Didn’t work.

  With my crooked eye and this jacket, I attracted more attention than a circus bear.

  Walking through the courtyard, I felt dozens of eyes on me.

  Giggles. Whispers.

  At the entrance, a solid man in his forties with military posture blocked my way.

  “Young man, are you new?” he asked sternly.

  “Yeah,” I muttered, trying to step around him.

  He looked straight into my eyes.

  Both of them.

  “You’re a student? You look… suspicious.”

  “I said yes. What’s it to you? Move.”

  His face reddened.

  “How dare you?!”

  A short staff appeared in his hand.

  His magically amplified voice thundered across the courtyard:

  “I AM THE HEAD EXAMINER! AND YOU, PUPPY, ARE ABOUT TO BE THROWN OUT!”

  The echo still lingered while I lazily picked my ear.

  “Okay. Examiner. Tough job. Anyway, I’ve got things to do.”

  I stepped forward—

  —and the princesses rushed in.

  “WE’RE SORRY!” they shouted in unison.

  Lianelle stepped forward, noble mask activated.

  “He is our… distant relative. The King gave him a chance out of kindness. He… grew up in the forest. Lacks manners. Please don’t judge him harshly.”

  The examiner immediately bowed.

  “Oh, he’s with you?”

  “With them?” I protested. “They’re with m—”

  “SILENCE!” Lianelle hissed, stepping on my foot.

  “Understood,” the examiner said coldly. “A savage. Follow me.”

  We entered a large room.

  At the center stood a crystal sphere.

  Déjà vu hit hard.

  I’d seen this orb.

  Thousands of times.

  Different lives.

  Different places.

  But the memories slipped away.

  “Afraid of magic, savage?” the examiner smirked. “Pour mana into the artifact. It will show your level.”

  “What level are the princesses?” I asked.

  “Red,” he said proudly. “Elite.”

  I thought:

  So those weaklings got red. Fine. I’ll just match them.

  I placed my palm on the glass.

  Pushed mana.

  FLASH.

  Instant blood-red.

  No transition.

  No flicker.

  Just BAM.

  The examiner stepped back.

  “So… fast?”

  “Red means I pass, right?”

  “…Yes.”

  “Good.”

  “Name?”

  “Greg.”

  “Family name?”

  “Don’t have one.”

  He nearly exploded.

  “Second test.”

  “Oh come on! What now, dance?”

  He ignored me and handed me a paper.

  I glanced at it.

  140 + 140?

  500 ÷ 10?

  “Are you serious? Is this for mentally challenged goblins?”

  I scribbled answers in under a minute and shoved it back.

  “All correct,” he muttered.

  Outside, I grabbed his sleeve.

  “I need an elf. Very old. Where?”

  “Magister Elvindor?” he smirked. “Not so easy. Especially not for a first-year savage.”

  “Oh great. Bureaucracy.”

  We returned to the sisters.

  “Good,” they said in unison.

  “That’s it? Just ‘good’?”

  They stepped closer.

  “Why were you holding back?” Lianelle asked quietly.

  “Holding back?” I snorted. “I just matched you weaklings so I wouldn’t stand out.”

  “We saw the results of the intelligence test,” Alexia added seriously.

  “What about them?”

  “Strange.”

  “What’s strange?”

  “Strange that someone like you passed it.”

  “…Excuse me?”

  She burst out laughing.

  “Took you long enough to understand,” she giggled. “See? Slow reaction. The test was too easy.”

  “Oh, go away!” I crossed my arms. “I’m a genius. Just underappreciated.”

  She laughed harder.

  And I stood there sulking, realizing I’d lost the verbal duel again.

  “And my eye hurts,” I muttered. “Take me to my room. Or the basement. Wherever you’re dumping me.”