I Am The Greatest Femboy Mage

"So you’re telling me that your staff is actually a humanoid high dragon that’s been dormant for two centuries until you finally managed to awaken it, and that it is not an ’it’, but a ’her’ and that her name is Kaveri."

A pause.

"I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a name before, sounds like something someone from Meruvarsha might have."

Elian gave him a nod, still working through the bite of bread he had chewed out a minute ago.

Bellamy let out a long, really long, sigh.

"Yeah I think i might need to go see the registrar about this after all."

This got a chuckle out of him, Elian almost choking on his bread as he pulled himself together.

"Have them add it to the paperwork properly," Elian said, playing along once he’d finally swallowed.

"Your roommate is required to do occasional briefing on dragon-related developments." Bellamy said, doing his best registrar impression.

"I’m sure Colm has a form for it." Elian added.

"Colm has a form for everything. I respect that about him."

Bellamy stole the last piece of bread off Elian’s plate without asking, who had apparently fully recovered in his eyes.

Which was technically not wrong.

"Okay, but seriously." He looked at him. "Does she look like a dragon? Scales, wings, the whole thing? Or is it more of a ’’technically immortal ancient being who just happens to look like a very intimidating woman’’ situation?"

"The second one. Mostly."

Elian thought about it, about the horns and claw-tipped fingers and old scars that didn’t look decorative.

"There’s... hints." He added. "If you look close enough. But she mostly just looks like someone who’s been through something and came out the other side of it really really angry about it."

"That’s extremely hot, honestly, even if its a completely unhinged way."

Bellamy said it with total sincerity, which somehow made it funnier, making Elian more likely to choke on his food.

"Wren’s not gonna like hearing about that." Elian pointed out, which made his roommate flinch.

Then Bellamy leaned in, entirely serious all of a sudden.

"No really, you’re telling me you’ve got a possibly devastatingly gorgeous ancient dragon woman living in your walking stick and your first instinct was to listen to her rant about circle theory instead of asking her out."

"She’s several hundred years old, Bellamy."

"Doesn’t mean she isn’t hot."

"She’s also, again, my staff."

He raised the Everbloom which was still in his left hand.

"This staff."

Bellamy waved this off entirely, the same gesture he used for most inconvenient facts.

"I’m just saying, most people would lead with something like"

He cleared his throat, mimicking Elian’s voice.

"My magic item turned out to be an incredibly attractive woman!? "

Another throat clearing to switch back to normal voice, continuing.

"And you led with mana circles. This is why I worry about you."

Elian huffed something close to a laugh, some of the morning’s heaviness finally settling into something lighter, more manageable.

"I’ll be sure to mention your concerns to her."

"Please do. Tell her I said hello, and that she has excellent taste in vessels."

Bellamy grinned, delighted with himself, before glancing at the time and grimacing.

"Alright, we need to actually move, we’re going to be late, and I refuse to let today’s hefty start come with a price of Mister Grieves docking my grades."

They separated after that, Bellamy going to continental history and ELian going to his own class.

He actually felt the glances he caught as he went to his class today, suddenly aware of how conversations dropped a level of volume when he walked past, how his fellow students only seemed to stare at his back after he had passed along.

The Everbloom stayed in his right hand, and Elian now carried a bag with a few leather bound notebooks in it. His new addition to his school routine now that he understood just how seriously he had to take his class.

He had a completely new set of classes today which included; Restorative Arts, Familiar Training and Physical Combat. His fourth class for the day always being Rowan Vale’s so he didn’t really need to keep track of it anymore.

The Restorative Arts lecture hall was on the far west side of the academy, Elian had to go through a full ten minutes of walking from the east wing cafeteria to reach the classroom.

A saddening amount of time to walk inside of a building, he noted as he approached the two sets of door leading in to the lecture hall.

The hall itself was smaller than most of the others he’d been in—dimmer too, lit by soft, warm lanternlight rather than the tall windows the theory classrooms favored, rows of low cots lining one wall in place of desks.

Elian found Darrow of all people, already seated near the front, boots up on the cot beside him with the easy unconcern of someone who’d never once worried about being early or late to anything.

"Hello there," Darrow said, mimicking an extremely posh accent for some reason.

"Fancy seeing you here lord Valcourt."

Elian hesitated, wondering what was the deal with everyone’s deal with making voices.

"You can drop the accent."

Darrow chuckled, sitting up properly.

"Come sit, you’re early by three minutes. Ten actually, if you consider the punctuality of Miss Petra."

Elian hummed in answer, pulling out his new notebooks to keep himself busy.

"Anyways," Darrow went on. "You look exhausted, had a long night?"

"You could say that." Elian didn’t look up from his notebook as he jotted the date down for today. "Long few days, really."

"Yeah, I heard something happened."

Elian could feel Darrow’s grin sharpening from just his voice, easy and entirely unrepentant as always he guessed.

"You have bags under your eyes, staff clutched a little tighter than usual, dead on your feet by first period."

He tilted his head, mock-thoughtful.

"Careful, Sir Valcourt, most people at least wait until second term before they start sneaking their secret relationships up to the east wing at odd hours."

Elian’s pen stopped moving entirely.

"That is not what happened."

Unfortunately, his vocal cords betrayed him at exactly that moment with an embarrassing voice crack.

"I’m not judging."

Darrow held up both hands, the picture of innocence undercut completely by the grin.

"I’m just saying that word travels fast in this school, and ’Valcourt’s spare heir looking thoroughly wrecked the morning after’ is exactly the kind of headline people around here live for, trust me I’d know."

Elian turned to him, shooting him a glare.

"Because you’re one of them?"

The guy tried his best to look hurt, the attempt completely wasted by the fact that a stupid grin was still stretched on his face.

"Those are unfair accusations! I would never make an assumption like someone as high held as you"

Darrow said, shaking his head, looking entirely too satisfied with himself.

"I’m simply saying, some of us appreciate a properly chaotic night when we hear about one. Professional courtesy, if you know what I mean."