Classes passed in a blur. First was elemental theory, then genetics, and lastly was Kalos League History. Wendel took notes, but his mind was elsewhere. His pen scribbled half-finished thoughts in the margins:
He doodled patterns for sparring formations and imagined hypothetical battles against Flying types, bulk tanks, and speed sweepers.
By the end of the day, he was bouncing with energy. He couldn’t wait any longer.
The library doors groaned open, and the scent of old paper and polished wood welcomed him like a hug. Wendel made a beeline to the martial arts section, eyes scanning shelves with laser focus.
After an hour of searching he had stacked three books in his arms:
- Applications of Drain Punch
- Shadow Claw: Darkness within
- The Hidden Weight of Gravity: Grounding Flight-Type Combatants
He turned—and nearly bumped into Annabelle.
Gretchen, who was perched on Wendel’s shoulder, gave a delicate hop and hovered for a moment before settling back. A clear telepathic thought reached Annabelle: “Please take care not to disturb my perch.”
Annabelle blinked, then laughed. “Oh! You’ve got perch privileges now, huh? And are you… willing to share?”
Gretchen’s response came instantly, precise and regal: “Master has two shoulders. I care not what he does with the other.”
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Wendel glanced at Gretchen, who dug her claws into the reinforced leather of his shoulder harness and gave a satisfied tilt of her head. “This perch is mine. I will not share.”
Wendel grinned. “Yeah, it was either this, or I’d be bleeding daily. Pointing to his shoulder pad, trust me the leather wins every time.”
Annabelle shook her head, still laughing.
Gretchen let out a small, triumphant chirp, clearly enjoying the attention.
“Day one back at school and you're already checking out half the strategy section?”
He smiled sheepishly. “I may have… a few ideas.”
“I can tell,” she said, raising an eyebrow as she glanced at the book on top. “Drain Punch? Seriously? That’s not exactly in Cecilia’s wheelhouse. Unless she’s hiding muscles under that dress.”
Wendel smirked and leaned closer, voice low. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”
She rolled her eyes. “You always have a plan.”
They found a quiet table by the window, sunlight stretching across the pages as they sat and chatted.
“So,” Wendel asked, “how’s your new dorm room? Roommate treating you alright?”
Annabelle leaned back, grinning. “She’s actually pretty cool. Her name’s Kaia—has this adorable little Skrelp with a major attitude problem. She’s from Ambrette. A little messy. But she makes really good tea.”
Wendel laughed. “Nice.”
“What about you?” she asked, sipping from a steaming mug. “How’s your new roommate?”
He leaned back, smug. “Don’t have one.”
Her eyes widened. “You got a single?”
“Yup. Third Wing, full suite. Kitchen. Couch. Even a Fireplace.”
“No fair!” she groaned, flicking his book lightly. “I’m going to start sneaking over just to nap on your couch.”
“I might start charging admission,” he said with a wink.
She rolled her eyes again but smiled. “You would.”
They stayed like that a while—talking, laughing, planning, just happy to be back.
As the sun sank behind the hills, Wendel looked down at the book on Drain Punch and gently rested his hand on the cover. This was going to be a year of change, challenge, and maybe… something extraordinary.