Moonveil Academy: Trapped With The Five Kings

Elara:

Whatever reaction I had expected from Kairo after my answer, it certainly wasn’t the one I received.

Instead of laughing, teasing me, or immediately defending his friend, he looked almost confused. His head tilted slightly to one side as his gray eyes studied my face, as though he was trying to determine whether I hand misunderstood something.

”You are talking about Alaric?” he finally asked as if to confirm he wasn’t mistaken.

I stared at him. ”Obviously.”

His eyebrows lifted. ”You mean Ravenshade?”

”Yes, Kairo. I’m talking about the one and only Alaric Ravenshade.” I couldn’t help the slight irritation creeping into my voice.

How many people named Alaric did he know?

Kairo remained quiet for another second before leaning back in his chair. ”Interesting.”

”What’s interesting?”

”You.”

I almost rolled my eyes. Truth was, Alaric was indeed my reason for studying illusion. I’d already learned enough about the people around me to understand exactly how dangerous they could be.

Reign had earth elemental magic and beast dominion. Liliana apparently possessed wind magic and transformation. Alaric had fire as his elemental magic and transformation as his magic efficiency. But there was something else about him that I’d only discovered after my second encounter with him - he was also proficient in illusion. Which made perfect sense.

The first time he used it against me had been during Professor Fenrith’s elemental class when he created the illusion of setting my book on fire. I’d screamed, jumped to my feet, and humiliated myself in front of the entire class while everyone laughed.

And the second incident had been even worse. The floating objects. The panic. Everyone believing I’d lost control of some nonexistent magical power. The entire corridor had been manipulated through illusion, making it appear as though I was the source of the chaos.

I’d only learned the truth afterward. Alaric had been behind that one too. He hadn’t received any points for it, but neither had he been punished.

I remembered sitting across from Professor Fenrith, struggling to keep my voice calm while he explained it, because arguing with him again would have accomplished nothing.

I had finally understood the reality of this place. The professors weren’t going to protect me. The Headmaster wasn’t going to protect me. And apparently, neither would anyone else. If I wanted to survive here, I had to protect myself.

Which was exactly why I was now sitting in a library with one of Reign and Alaric’s closest friends, listening to him offer to teach me illusion magic.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

Did I trust Kairo? Not even slightly.

Did I believe he was suddenly interested in helping me because of some hidden kindness? Absolutely not.

But did I know that he probably understood illusion magic better than anyone else I could currently access? Yes.

And that mattered more.

If I was going to survive these people, then perhaps the smartest thing I could do was learn from them. Maybe I could even use their own knowledge against them someday.

So instead of telling Kairo to get lost, I simply watched him carefully, waiting to see what he actually intended to do.

His signature smirk slowly returned once he realized I wasn’t throwing him out. ”You are right to ask me,” he said confidently. ”I’m at least a hundred times better than Alaric.”

”I didn’t ask you,” I immediately corrected. ”You offered.”

His smile widened. ”Fine. You didn’t ask. I generously offered.”

”Better.”

”You are going to be a difficult student.” He almost said teasingly.

”What? Regretting it already?”

He chuckled quietly before leaning forward and resting his elbows against the table. For once, he actually looked serious. ”Then let’s start with the basics.”

He explained that illusion wasn’t simply about making someone see something that didn’t exist. At its most basic level, illusion magic manipulated perception. A skilled illusionist could alter what someone saw, heard, smelled, touched, and in some advanced cases, even what they believed they were experiencing.

An illusion could make an empty room appear crowded, turn a harmless stick into a sword in someone’s perception, hide an entire building, create false copies of people, distort distances, or make an opponent believe they were standing somewhere completely different from where they actually were.

More advanced illusionists could create layered illusions that reacted to the target’s movements, making them incredibly difficult to distinguish from reality. The most dangerous forms could interfere with memories and thoughts, although Kairo emphasized that such abilities required extraordinary skill and were heavily restricted within the academy.

”The important thing,” he told me, ”is that illusion doesn’t need to change reality. It only needs to convince the target that reality has changed.”

I stared at him. ”So you don’t actually create anything?”

”Not necessarily.” He lifted one hand. ”I could make you believe I’m holding a knife without actually holding one.”

His fingers moved slightly, and suddenly, there was a silver dagger between them.

I stared at it for a moment, then I blinked. The dagger remained as it was.

”That’s an illusion?” I asked.

”Obviously.” He looked offended by my doubt. ”Touch it.”

I hesitated before extending one finger. My fingertip met cold metal. I immediately pulled my hand back. ”It feels real.”

”Your brain believes it is real. That’s enough.” He snapped his fingers and the dagger disappeared.

I frowned at the empty space. ”That’s...” I searched for the right word. ”Terrifying.”

”Exactly.” His expression became serious. ”And that’s why you should learn it.”

I nodded slowly. For someone whose powers were currently sealed, illusion suddenly seemed like one of the most useful things I could possibly study. I might not be able to cast it yet, but understanding how it worked could help me recognize when someone else was using it against me. If Alaric tried something similar again, I wouldn’t be standing there screaming while everyone laughed.

Kairo continued teaching, and I quickly realized he wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was good. He explained how illusionists needed to understand the target’s senses, how the stronger the target’s mental defenses, the more complicated the illusion needed to become, and how experienced users could create illusions that existed only for a fraction of a second - just long enough to make someone hesitate.

He even explained that illusion could be used defensively, not simply offensively. A skilled user could hide their presence, create decoys, disguise their appearance, alter the perception of distance, or make an attacker believe they had successfully landed a strike when they hadn’t. The possibilities seemed endless.

I listened carefully, asking questions whenever something confused me, and Kairo answered most of them without his usual teasing. I wasn’t about to admit it aloud, but I was impressed.

Then, unfortunately, his teaching style changed.

At some point, he demonstrated how an illusionist could make a person believe something was moving closer even when it wasn’t. Then he leaned toward me, his face suddenly far too close to mine, and whispered, ”Like this.”

I instinctively leaned back.

He laughed. ”That wasn’t an illusion.”

”I know.”

”Good. You are learning.”

Another time, he made an illusion of a silver butterfly flutter between us, only for it to land on my shoulder. ”Pretty,” he murmured. ”You look better with it.”

I immediately brushed at my shoulder. The butterfly disappeared beneath my fingers before asking, ”Was that necessary?”

”No.” He smiled. ”But you reacted.”

”You are impossible.”

”And yet you are still here.”

I had no answer to that. Eventually, he seemed satisfied with whatever game he was playing and finally returned to actual teaching.

Before leaving, he pulled out a small piece of parchment and wrote down a simple spell for me. I stared at the words for a moment before speaking, ”This sounds ridiculous.”

”It isn’t.” He countered.

”It literally sounds like something a child would say while playing wizard.”

He laughed as if everything I was saying seemed to amuse him. ”The words don’t matter as much as you think. Magic isn’t a language exam. The arrangement of words can vary. What matters is intent and understanding. Your power needs to understand what you are asking it to do.”

He tapped the parchment before adding, ”Say the spell exactly as written the first few times. Once you understand what you are trying to achieve, you can change the words. Your magic doesn’t care whether you say it beautifully. It cares whether you understand what you are commanding.”

I looked down at the strange words again.

For the first time, I found myself wondering what would happen if I actually managed to cast an illusion.

My powers were still sealed. But there was already a crack. And if Kairo was right, perhaps I didn’t need to wait until the seal completely broke before I started learning.

I folded the parchment carefully and slipped it into my notebook.

”Practice this until we meet again,” he said.

I looked up. ”Again?”

His smirk returned. ”You’ll see me again. I’m your teacher now.”

I sighed. Of course I would. Apparently, learning magic came with an unavoidable side effect called Kairo Greymark.