Chapter Text
There were certain observations Jorn made as a kid in his second life.
Colorful hair, colorful eyes. People with ears of animals and characteristics of sea creatures. Oblivious adults ignorant of the abuse they’re putting their children under. His classmates suddenly fading into the background when the quiet kid and popular class president stare into each other's eyes. Personalities so flat you would believe they were made to be characters in a book.
Given his circumstances, it took him a while to find out exactly what world he was living in, because it certainly wasn’t his prior one.
He remembered an early memory of his where he desperately searched through his local city library, looking through books about geography in the teens’ section. Despite each book spewing the same exact information, it wasn’t the information that aligned with what he knew.
The world map was a lot more different than the one he remembered. There was no such thing as Europe or Asia, let alone a picture of the same continental format he thought he knew.
And magic.
Magic was a thing apparently.
But that was a whole other can of worms he wasn’t willing to get into.
When he entered middle school, he gave up on finding clues that could potentially lead him to his answer once his grades started dropping. Obviously his mother gave him an hour long scolding when she found out his mathematics grade fell to a D, arguing that he should focus on his other subjects rather than only fixating on social studies.
In his defense, he knew that historical artifacts and manuscripts were the only thing that could help him piece together his answer. But there was no way he could go up to his parents and say, “Hey! This is actually my second life and this place is totally different from my previous one. It’s totally messing with my head, so I’m actively researching any obscure topics about this world as a trauma response. Hope you don’t think I’m some crazy freak!”
If he did, then that was just a one way ticket to the nearest hospital.
Currently he was nearing the end of his year, successfully working his grades back up to solid A’s and some B’s. As a result, he had a pretty good ranking in his school. Of course, he was nowhere near the top ten, but after receiving a smile and a pat on the back meant that his grades were more than enough to be invited to a decent academy.
Unfortunately, however, grades weren’t the only thing that Jorn had to focus on.
“Guys, he’s doing the thing again.”
“L-O-L I’m taking a photo.”
“You good, Jorn?” He felt a familiar pat on his shoulder. It belonged to the captain of the school’s Spelldrive captain, Quentin, who stared at him with worry in his eyes. “I get that you’re nervous and all, but this is our final game! The last thing we should think about is our performance when we should be having fun instead. We gotta make the most of it!”
Jorn stared at him and glanced down at his captain’s shaky arms that anxiously gripped onto his broom, the ends fried from the previous games that their team had played in. Between the both of them, it was obvious who the nervous person actually was, but in favor of the captain, he only chose to nod in response.
There were certain perks when it came to studying in a specialized middle school for magic. Yes, the tuition was steep and the competition was unbelievably cutthroat. It took Jorn sacrificed sleep, prescribed stimulants and a couple of tutoring sessions for him to catch up to the rest of his peers. Nonetheless, he had to admit that the curriculum was phenomenal.
If the six digit tuition fee didn’t show it, then the classes certainly did. Unlike other middle schools that brushed upon the studies of practical magic, the school he attended allowed students to take the extra step ahead and practice magic itself. Thus, the school birthed extracurriculars that would’ve only been available in high school, like Poison Making club, or in this case— Spelldrive club.
Jorn was pretty thankful for being born into a well-off family this time around.
When the sound of blaring trumpets from the school’s band went off, everyone knew it was time to get into the field. He could hear the nervous sighs from his other teammates, with one tightening his ponytail and the other spitting away her gum.
To be honest, he was also nervous like the others, but it was often hidden under an impassive face. Exhibiting confidence in the field was seen as a good thing according to his teammates, yet from his experience, it only brought him into more hot water when opposing members saw his deadpan expression as a sign of belittlement.
(“The fuck are you staring at punk?” One member cursed from across the arena. She looked like she was just a second from blowing a fuse once a teammate beside her tried calming her down, telling her that he wasn’t worth her anger.
Okay, ouch.
“Oh, so what? I’m sure that guy thinks he’s hot shit for being in a little preppy school full of nerdy ass kids!” She spat out. Jorn felt a shiver down his spine once she began to stomp towards him, her figure overwhelming him once she got closer and closer. He couldn’t lie, she was pretty, however his appreciation for her beauty was outweighed by the fear he felt from the pit of his stomach. “You know what you are, punk? A fuckwad twat who doesn’t know a thing about the real world. How about you go lift some weights before you—”
Her words immediately got cut off by a punch sent by one of his teammates, ending their first game in a disqualification.)
He shook his head from the memory, cleansing himself from negative thoughts. He could do this, he told himself, I can do this .
To the wisp of delicate leaves to the stadium overpowered by cheers, Jorn’s lips almost itched into a subtle smile from the exhilarating sensation. The feeling he had from before once he first started Spelldrive was a completely different feeling once he realized he genuinely found a sense of appreciation for the sport.
“Hey.” His teammate, Varian, nudged him from the side. She pointed over towards the opposing team, then to the people in the crowd. “Squint and look closer. See the guys in suits?”
Jorn hesitantly nodded, unsure where she was going with this.
“They’re our one way ticket to Noble Bell.” She grinned, almost reminiscing at the thought. He couldn’t blame her. Noble Bell College was a prestigious academy that was conveniently located in the same area as their current school, making it a popular choice for students in the Shaftlands, Jorn included.
“I know cap’ gave that whole speech about having fun and stuff, and like— I totally agree, don't get me wrong.” She rambled, scratching her cheek. “But like, y’know our future and stuff. Not to put pressure on you or anything, but I like you. I like our team. Like a lot. And uh— I, er.”
“...Go on?"
“Um, I guess I just never had friends like you guys. I really, really like you guys. I just want to spend more time with you all next year. I know I have my own stuff going on, like everyone else, but I want to do that stuff with you guys. And… I feel like all of our interests point towards Noble Bell, don’t you think?”
Feedback from the PA system in the stadium halted everyone from their cheers, causing Jorn and the others to stay steady within their positions. The voice behind the speakers cleared their throat, “Welcome, one and all, to Oak Grove Institution’s final Spelldrive tournament against Saint Rose Charter School!”
Cheers immediately pulsated in the stadium with people cheering for different sides. Everyone looked at each other and nodded, signifying that everybody knew their position and roles for this game. Jorn glanced back at Varian and sent her a small smile.
“Hold that thought.”
—
“And in a shocking turn of events, SWEYNSSON TOOK CONTROL OF THE DISC AND SECURED THEIR FINAL WIN, ABSOLUTELY MIRACULOUS, VICTORY GOES TO OAAKK GROVVEEEE!!”
Sweat dribbled from the top of his forehead to the ends of his lips, making him to lick the salty taste from his skin. His heart pounded as the adrenaline that carried him throughout the game slowly waned, before he could hear the audible noise of his teammates running over and throwing him into a tight hug.
It was excruciatingly loud. The crowd was loud, the speakers were loud, even the big screen that recorded him was loud, yet the noise was quickly drowned out by the relieved noises of his teammates who huddled into a tight circle with one another. He could feel their laughter and tears, their voices laced with joy.
“W- We did it.” Quentin sobbed, squeezing everyone with one arm while trying to rub out the tears with his other. “Oh my sevens. We really did it.”
“Shut up, cap!” Another cried, “O- Of course we… WAHHHHH!”
“Jorn you were amazing. You carried this whole game!”
“Shut up, he's not even listening!” Varian laughed weakly, her eyes wet with tears. “He’s spacing out as if he didn’t just score a touchdown!”
Touchdown?
Right.
He did just score a touchdown.
The sheer thought that he made the final win didn’t go through his brain. Truth to be told, the whole game felt like a fever dream. Like an out of body experience. Now, everything from his limbs down felt weak from each step. He honestly doubted that the tingling feeling he had was something other than the lack of magic that was seeping out from his skin.
But he liked it. He learned to enjoy the weakness his muscles felt when he knew it accomplished something unimaginable.
The grin that itched his lips from the beginning of the game returned by the end.