If Elior had known the alchemy lab required actual fire, he would've asked to be excused.
"Today," Professor Elric boomed, "you will be crafting a mood-triggered elixir. Each potion will reflect your emotional state. Be warned—unstable feelings create unstable results."
Elior quietly scooted his cauldron farther from the group.
Kael plopped down beside him. "Aw, are you scared of a little boiling brew?"
"No," Elior lied.
"You've got that wide-eyed 'I might faint' look again."
"I do not faint. I gracefully withdraw under duress."
Kael snorted and started unpacking ingredients: crushed star-berries, root dust, and something that looked suspiciously like eyeballs.
"You know what this reminds me of?" Kael said casually, tossing dried mint into his pot.
"A terrible mistake?"
"No. My aunt's cooking."
Elior laughed before he could stop himself.
He dropped a pinch of heartbloom petals into his potion.
It immediately turned gold—and then, with a fizz, shot a stream of glitter ten feet in the air.
The entire class paused.
Kael blinked. "You're feeling… sparkly?"
"No!" Elior squeaked. "It's a misfire! It's not supposed to be glittery!"
"Sure, Flower Boy. You're just naturally fabulous."
Professor Elric gave him a long, slow look. "Mr. Elior, please attempt not to bedazzle the ceiling."
Kael was shaking from silent laughter.
---
By the time the bell rang, Elior's potion had shifted from gold to pink to lime green and was giving off a gentle purring noise.
Kael patted the cauldron. "You've made an emotional cat."
"I hate this class."
"I love this class."
They walked back toward the dorms, the afternoon sun casting golden lines across the marble path.
Elior peeked at Kael. "You didn't laugh that hard when Jasper melted his eyebrows."
"That's because I expected Jasper to melt something. You? I didn't see the glitter attack coming."
Elior rolled his eyes. "You're enjoying this too much."
"I find you entertaining."
"Like a jester?"
"No," Kael said, a little too easily. "Like a puzzle."
Elior blinked. "I'm not sure if that's better."
---
Later that evening, in the dining hall, things escalated.
Someone—probably Jasper—charmed the dessert table to switch every sweet item with something painfully sour. The lemon tarts exploded. The sugar cream pies turned into salted vinegar clouds.
Kael bit into a cupcake and nearly choked.
"Stars above—this tastes like regret and battery acid."
Elior, already suspicious of the glowing frosting, simply sipped his tea.
Kael glared. "Did you know?"
"No. But your pain is oddly satisfying."
"Betrayal from my own teammate."
"You'll survive."
Just then, Headmaster Verin walked by, raising a graying brow at Kael's frosting-smeared expression.
"Creative flavor testing, Mr. Draven?"
"Yes, sir. Emotional resilience practice."
Verin blinked, sighed, and kept walking.
Kael leaned closer. "That man has no soul."
"He has tenure."
---
That night, Kael flopped onto Elior's bed without asking.
"I'm dying," he declared.
"You had a sour cupcake. Not a fatal curse."
"It felt like a fatal curse."
Elior, reading a book on rune-channeling, didn't even look up. "What do you want, Kael?"
"Company. You're the least terrible person I know."
"Touching."
Kael rolled onto his side, staring at the ceiling. "You're not like the others here. You're not… trying to prove anything."
"I am," Elior said. "I'm just quieter about it."
Kael glanced at him. "What are you trying to prove?"
"That I belong."
Silence.
Then Kael said, softer, "You do."
Elior didn't reply. But a tiny flower bloomed on the spine of his book.
Kael noticed.
He didn't mention it.
Instead, he said, "If you tell anyone I'm being decent to you, I'll deny everything."
"Duly noted."