Finally, the long lunch break.

  Orla was still peacefully snoozing on her desk, her nose buried in the teleportation textbook. Oh well. Sleep never hurt anyone, especially such an annoying organism.

  I trudged to the cafeteria accompanied by Alexia and Lianel. Alastia and Kael immediately joined our modest little circle of the "chosen ones." Even my scaly dragonkin roommate, who usually preferred meditating on a red-hot rock, deigned to sit nearby.

  "You're drawing too much attention, Greg," Lianel grumbled, scanning the hall. "We look like a traveling freak show."

  "Oh, come on," Kael smirked. "Greg is just lucky. He's like a magnet for..."

  The dragonkin nodded silently, agreeing with the elf. I, on the other hand, felt like I was sitting in the center of a bullseye. Hundreds of gazes from every table bored into me. The whispers swelled like the roar of the surf.

  "Look... it's him... the one..."

  Alastia suddenly stood up behind my back. I heard the distinct rustle of a glove being pulled off.

  "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Kael nearly flipped the table, jumping up from his seat.

  But Alastia wasn't listening to him. Her bare palm dropped onto the top of my head. Kael froze with his mouth hanging open, apparently ready to sweep my ashes into a dustpan.

  "Greg... are you alright? You... you haven't vaporized yet?"

  "Seems like I'm still here," I replied lazily, feeling that familiar, viscous warmth spreading through my body. "Just getting a bit sleepy..."

  "Look," Lianel pointed a finger. "His hair... it turns white right where she touches it."

  "See, brother?" Alastia winked cheerfully at Kael. "I told you. He's special."

  The whispering in the cafeteria intensified, turning into a buzz. It looked like this scene was the smash hit of the season.

  "Alastia... this is... incredible," Kael's voice trembled with genuine relief. "I'm so happy for you. You can finally feel warmth... or, well, whatever it is that radiates from him. The thing you've been deprived of your entire life."

  The dragonkin, who had remained calm until now, frowned. "What's the big deal, Kael? So she's petting him, so what."

  Kael looked at my roommate with poorly concealed pity. "It's just that Alastia harbors the true curse of Destruction. Everything her bare skin touches dies. Instantly. Crumbles to dust or evaporates."

  The dragonkin sat bolt upright, the scales on his cheekbones standing on end. "WHAT?!"

  "Oh, it's no big deal," Alastia continued to enthusiastically run her fingers through my hair, gently massaging my scalp. "The main thing is I found someone who doesn't croak when I touch him."

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  "Listen, Alexia..." the dragonkin suddenly decided to change the subject, apparently unwilling to discuss the prospect of turning into a pile of ash. "What are you and Lianel doing after classes? Maybe we could... uh... train together?"

  I listened to this nonsense, finally slipping away into a sleepy fog. The dragonkin trying to hit on Alexia? Kael crying tears of joy? Alastia using me as a lightning rod for her curse?

  The walk back to the dorm turned into an obstacle course. Dozens of eyes tracked my every step. One girl worked up the courage, ran up, and in a single breath asked me to be her boyfriend. I politely declined—my head-scratching schedule was already booked solid for a week in advance. Why she burst into tears and ran away after that, I never figured out. Apparently, in this country, a rejection from the "man from the fairy tales" is equivalent to a national tragedy.

  Even the perpetually grumpy guard at the entrance looked at me with some strange reverence. I slipped into my room and collapsed onto the sofa.

  "It's nice to have close ones around," I thought, examining a crack in the ceiling. "But this? This is getting a bit much."

  The dragonkin returned that night. He strolled into the room with a light step, whistling a little tune, and carefully closed the door. He looked as if he had just won a lifetime supply of raw meat in the lottery.

  "Why so cheerful?" I asked without opening my eyes. "Looks like I've met the girl of my destiny," my roommate replied dreamily, settling into his red-hot corner. "Happy for you," I said, rolling onto my side. "Just don't incinerate her in a fit of passion."

  The morning started with a Magical Concepts class. Those very same elf and dwarf specializing in poisons were looking particularly bloodthirsty today. Alastia plopped down next to me.

  While the teachers droned through the introduction, we entertained ourselves as best we could: tossing tiny lightning bolts at each other under the desk, staging battles with water golems the size of a fingernail.

  "Today," the dwarf slammed a vial onto the desk, "we will study the 'Ancient Resistance' method. Legend says that a mad king drank poison every day. Drop by drop. By old age, his body became so resilient that mercenaries simply couldn't poison him. They had to stick a knife in his back the old-fashioned way."

  The dwarf bared his teeth. "Your task is to teach your bodies to fight it. We take a minimal dose, dilute it with water, and drink. And do this every day. In a week, the concentration will increase. Begin."

  We were handed glasses. Without hesitating, I knocked the sludge back. "HA!" I slammed the empty container down. "I'm first!"

  Alastia frowned. Her competitive spirit flared instantly. She grabbed the bottle right off the teacher's desk and splashed another portion for both of us. "Drink!" We drank.

  "Raising the stakes?" I smirked predatorily. "Bring it on!" Alastia was already pouring pure concentrate into the glasses.

  Bottoms up. Everything burned inside, as if I had swallowed a handful of molten metal. "Bwa-ha-ha! Not enough! Hit me again!"

  We drank a third. A fourth. My stomach twisted as if someone tied a sailor's knot in there. I was just reaching out with my fingers to snap and reset my status, but I saw Alastia's triumphant smile. She was clearly suffering just as much as I was, but she was holding out.

  "Oh, so that's how it is?" I thought. "Well, brace yourself."

  "ONE LAST ROUND!" I barked.

  We poured the fifth dose of the lethal cocktail down our throats. For a second, we stared at each other, trying to save face.

  And then the dam broke. Synchronously.

  It was the most spectacular duet in the history of the Academy. We puked our guts out right onto the floor, right at the feet of the paralyzed teachers.

  For about five minutes we just cracked up laughing, squatting in the middle of this disaster. It was painful, disgusting, but for some reason incredibly fun.

  The fun ended quickly, however. The sadistic teachers, instead of calling for a healer, simply shoved a mop into each of our hands.

  "Since you're having so much fun," the dwarf growled, "clean it up yourselves. Make it shine!"

  And so we cleaned. And continued to roast each other as we scrubbed the stone floor.