Page 6 of Heartflame

She paused, letting her gaze sweep across the room. When it landed on me, there was a flicker of something in her expression, though I couldn’t quite place it.

“I know this has been a difficult year for all of us,” she continued, her voice steady and measured. “The attacks, the loss of life, the uncertainty about whether this school would even reopen. But we’re here now, and we’re going to move forward. That means we’re going to focus on what matters. And that is understanding the fundamental principles of how magic works in our world, whether it be for self-defense or creation.”

She turned to write something on the blackboard behind her, her chalk moving in sharp, decisive strokes. “This senior-level class is not going to be easy. I don’t care if you’re a dragon, a fae, a shifter, or a witch. Everyone in this room is going to work equally hard, and everyone in this room is going to be held to the same standard.”

I felt a small smile tug at the corner of my mouth. Was she talking about me? Because if she was, she was going to be disappointed. I was a dragon. Standards didn’t really apply to me in the same way they applied to everyone else. I had more magic in my pinky toe than she had in her entire body.

“Now then,” Professor Blackwood said, turning back to face the class. “Can anyone tell me the three fundamental pillars of magical theory?”

Hands shot up around the room. A few of the eager students in the front row practically vibrated with the need to answer. I didn’t bother raising my hand. I’d skimmed that chapter, but I wasn’t entirely sure about the answer. Besides, letting someone else answer first gave me the advantage of hearing the question posed a different way if I got called on later.

“Miss Harkins?” Professor Blackwood called on a witch with dark hair and glasses in the front row.

“Intent, energy, and will,” the girl answered confidently.

“Correct. And can you elaborate on what each of those means?”

The girl launched into an explanation that was thorough enough to make me actually pay attention. Okay, so maybe I needed to have skimmed a little harder. It was a long time since I’d looked at the basics and even longer since I’d thought about using them.

Professor Blackwood nodded along as the student spoke, occasionally interjecting with follow-up questions or points of clarification. It became clear pretty quickly that she actually cared about whether people understood the material, not just whether they could regurgitate facts. That was... different from my private tutors, most of whom had seemed more interested in getting through the curriculum than in actual comprehension. It was all flash cards and practical exams with them without any real understanding.

By the time class ended an hour later, I had to admit that I was actually engaged. Professor Blackwood had assigned us a reading for next class, chapters four through seven of our textbook, and I found myself genuinely curious about what came next. Maybe I’d crack a book open. If I could find the time.

As students filed out of the classroom, I stood up and stretched, my tail unfurling slightly before I wrapped it back against my legs. Several people gave me a wide berth as they passed, still clearly intimidated by my presence. That was fine with me. Let them be a little scared. It only added to the mystique.

“Mr. Pyre,” Professor Blackwood called out as I was heading for the door. “A word?”

I turned back, curious. She was standing beside her desk, arms crossed over her chest, that same assessing expression on her face.

“Yes, professor?” I asked, walking back toward her.

“I want to be clear about something,” she said without preamble. “I understand that you’re here for a reason. That your grandfather wants to send a message. I respect that. But in my classroom, you’re not the grandson of the Elder Council leader. You’re a student. And that means you follow the same rules as everyone else.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m confused, professor. Did I break any rules?”

“Not yet,” she said, and there was something in her tone that suggested she expected me to go hog wild at any moment. “But just so we’re on the same page, I grade based on merit. Not on lineage, not on species, and certainly not by how many connections you have in high places. You do the work, you understand the material, and you’ll get a good grade. You don’t, and you’ll fail. Simple as that.”

I felt a flash of irritation at her tone, but I kept my expression neutral. “Of course, professor. I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Good,” she said, turning back to her desk. “I’ll see you next class.”

“I have one question, professor.”

“Yes?”

“Have you given this speech to all of your other students?”

She stared at me for a long moment, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“I only ask because I believe they might benefit from it,” I said, keeping my tone carefully neutral. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think that you’re singling me out or giving me special treatment just because of who I am.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying⁠—”

“Nothing. Of course,” I smiled. “Just that you should follow your own advice and treat all your students equally, regardless of their connections.”

Professor Blackwood opened her mouth, her brows furrowed, but before she could speak, a man stepped forward. “Professor? Can I ask you a question about the reading?”

She paused, shaking her head slightly. “Of course, Mr. Aster.” She glanced back at me. “We’re done here, Mr. Pyre. Please head to your next class.”