Chapter 6
The Academy of Magic sends out an announcement that hits campus like a spark in dry grass. The Academy tournament will begin soon with fights starting in seven days and matchup drawing happening in five. Everywhere across campus people are talking brackets, matchups, and who is going to embarrass who. The notice is simple. Sixty four students enter the Academy of Magic tournament. The top sixty ranked students receive automatic entry. Eight more are selected by faculty and fight for the final four spots. The top eight finishers earn a place in the national intercollegiate tournament, the one every guild recruiter and Bronze Corps scout watches closely.
The Academy of Magic used to be a force in the intercollegiate tournament, but in recent years it has failed to live up to expectations. This intercollegiate tournament is the school’s chance to remind everyone it still matters.
In the next class period, the professor does not even bother pretending students care about the lecture.
He clears his throat and points at the board. "Listen up." He taps the chalk once. "Matchups are not seeded. You do not get an easy path just because you are ranked high. A faculty committee assigns the bracket. If you want a clean road, you picked the wrong school."
The room buzzes with nervous laughter. Reya, who is ranked 58th, sits beside Sonny, twisting a pencil between her fingers. She glances at him, then looks away, then glances again as if she is building courage.
"Sonny," she says softly, "will you watch my fights. I mean, if you have time. I’d appreciate your feedback on my battles."
Sonny keeps his eyes on his notebook. "No promises. I will try."
Reya exhales, relieved anyway. "That’s all I’m asking."
Across the room, Ellie hears the exchange and feels a strange mix of pride and annoyance. She tells herself it is nothing. Still, her foot taps under the desk.
Ellie’s own rank gives her a real shot to make intercollegiate. She sits at nineteenth, strong enough that people expect her to reach the top eight if she does not get a nightmare matchup. The idea makes her excited and nervous at the same time.
Later that day, Ellie finds Sonny on campus between classes. He looks the same as always, quiet, distant and gloomy, like he is only half present. "I expect you are going to watch my fights in the tournament," Ellie says, trying to sound casual.
Sonny inclines his head. "Yes."
She narrows her eyes. "That was easy."
"You asked," he replies. Ellie walks alongside him.
"Are you going to fight in the tournament?" She politely asks. Since he is ranked dead last, she does not believe he has a chance.
Sonny answers immediately. "If it is my choice, no."
Ellie stops short. "Why not?"
Sonny looks ahead. "I do not want to be remembered."
Ellie’s brows lift. "That makes zero sense. This is how you get noticed. This is how you get recruited. Guilds. Bronze Corps. They watch this stuff."
"I am an ether user," Sonny says. "They do not want me."
Ellie folds her arms. "You keep saying that like it is true. But you beat me. You beat Bull. People want winners."
Sonny’s expression does not shift. "I still prefer to remain unnoticed."
Ellie stares at him. "Fine. Then show me something. You have talked about ether like it is this big secret weapon, but I have never actually seen you use it. Not really."
Sonny looks at her as if she asks a strange question. "I am using ether right now."
Ellie does not believe him. "No you are not."
"Yes," Sonny says. "You just do not notice. I am always cultivating ether."
Ellie opens her mouth, closes it, then tries again. "How is that even possible?"
"Hard training over many years," Sonny says, like it explains everything.
Ellie exhales through her nose. "I meant using ether in a match." Sonny only shrugs. The conversation ends because he makes it end.
Five days later, the entire student body packs into the assembly hall for the bracket drawing. Attendance is mandatory, and the faculty stands in a line near the front like judges.
The air tastes like nerves. Names appear one by one. Ellie watches the board as matchups fill in. When her name lands, she gets paired with the thirty seventh ranked student, a matchup that favors her element and her style. Ellie lets out a breath she does not realize she is holding.
Then the bracket pauses. Four slots remain open. Dean steps forward with a small smile. "Now," he says, "we select the eight faculty picks. They will fight for the final four positions." He starts reading names. Each one draws a reaction. Excitement. Groans. A few angry mutters.
Then he says the last name. "Sonny Hendricks."
For a heartbeat, the room goes silent. Then it explodes.
"That’s a joke."
"He is dead last."
"He cannot even use magic."
"This is a waste of a spot."
Ellie turns toward Sonny. Reya does too, both of them lit up for different reasons. Bull, standing a few rows away, watches with a hard look like he is trying to solve a problem. Sonny stands completely still. No reaction. No pride. No fear. Nothing.
Dean lets the noise run for a moment, then raises a hand. "Enough," he says.
"Do not let preconceived notions decide outcomes for you. The world does not care what you think you know." With that, the assembly ends.
Students pour out, still complaining, still debating. Bull pushes through the crowd and finds Sonny. "Are you going to make the top eight?" Bull asks, not bothering with small talk.
Sonny looks away. "We will see."
Bull scowls. "You better. I know you can. Hell, you beat me."
Sonny glances back at him, almost curious. "Thank you for believing that." Bull looks like he does not know what to do with a sincere response.
A moment later, Reya approaches, hands clasped in front of her. "Congratulations on being selected," she says. "And good luck. I know you will do great."
Sonny gives a small nod. "Thank you. I will see you in class."
He starts to walk away, but Ellie steps into his path. "Reya is really obsessed with you," Ellie says, trying to make it sound like a joke and failing. Sonny considers her words. "She is nice to me."
Ellie’s mouth tightens. Then she exhales and forces herself to nod. "I must agree. She is kind."
She points a finger at his chest and asks a question. "Are you going to talk to Dean and tell him you do not want the nomination?"
Sonny’s voice stays level. "I cannot refuse him."
Ellie stares at him, puzzled, and for a split second she remembers the snowy forest all those years ago. Not the memory itself, but the feeling. A quiet boy who does not explain himself. The memory feels like it came out of nowhere.
Sonny walks away before she finds another argument. The bracket is set. The tournament clock starts counting down.
