Perspective: Eleanor Whitmore
Eleanor's first impression of the University of Healers wasn't exactly the best.
When she accepted Alessio's suggestion to spend some time there, she expected something entirely different — something practical, straightforward, something that would help her become a more efficient part of the group.
She had enrolled in the Mana Division, imagining it meant learning new recovery or reinforcement spells.
With two or three new abilities at her disposal, she could expand her role in missions and lessen the team's dependence on potions and energy items.
But, to her disappointment, reality was far less exciting.
The University of Healers wasn't a place for adventurers.
It was an institution devoted to pure study — a kind of academic temple that treated magic not as a tool of combat, but as a field of philosophical and physiological research.
They didn't teach spells — they taught understanding.
Eleanor only truly realized this when she attended her first class.
The instructor, an elderly mage with a gentle voice, spent almost an entire hour talking about "the subtle currents of the soul" and the way mana flow realigns itself after overuse.
The word "spell" was never even mentioned.
The theories were fascinating — but distant.
At one point, the old mage began tracing glowing diagrams in the air — golden lines representing what he called the invisible vital energy, the element that connected mana, body, and spirit.
The entire class watched in reverence.
Eleanor, however, couldn't stop wondering how any of that would help her in the field when she was trying to keep Matteo or Cassandra alive in the middle of a storm of attacks.
That afternoon, she resigned herself to studying alone in the Mana Wing library.
The shelves stretched endlessly, filled with grimoires and floating notes that seemed to breathe softly, as if the books themselves were alive.
Each volume was a work of art — bound in leather, engraved with runes, and protected by faint energy seals.
She turned the pages carefully, and the texts reacted to her touch, displaying visual projections of mana circuits and diagrams of the spiritual body.
The topics repeated themselves:
"Natural Regeneration Rates of Vital Energy."
"Cycles of Mana Replenishment Through Sleep."
"Emotional Resonance and the Flow of Arcane Power."
All impressive — none particularly useful.
Eleanor sighed.
As much as her mind acknowledged the value of those ideas, her instinct as an adventurer — the very one Alessio often praised — told her that none of it would help when the team needed someone to heal a deep wound or restore energy mid-battle.
She spent the rest of the day among the shelves and lecture halls, trying to absorb as much as she could, even if she didn't quite understand how to apply any of it.
And yet, despite everything, there was something comforting about that quiet environment — the sense of being surrounded by pure knowledge.
Maybe, she thought, learning came in ways she couldn't yet see.
But for now, all she had were theories — and a small, uneasy weight in her chest:
Would theory be enough when the group truly needed her?
The fourth day began like any other inside the Black Tower.
That familiar digital awakening — the moment when the senses realigned and the mind remembered where the body was — brought Eleanor the same strange comfort as always.
For a few seconds, she remained still, watching the silent dormitory of the Healers' Wing, the stained glass casting golden rays across the smooth white walls.
Her first thought was simple: Today I'll pick up where I left off.
She had already set aside three books the night before and planned another visit to the Mana Research Wing.
The idea of spending a few more peaceful hours studying spiritual regeneration sounded almost therapeutic.
The plan didn't last long.
A soft metallic chime filled the air —
a message notification.
The translucent window materialized before her, the text projected in perfect clarity:
[Alessio Leone — First Pioneers]
"Meet at Eldenwall's main portal.
We have a new mission cycle ahead."
For a moment, she just stared at the words.
Her heart tightened — not from fear of danger, but from doubt.
It was too soon.
She knew it.
She didn't feel ready yet.
Eleanor took a deep breath.
Her theoretical training had been intense, yes — but nothing that could prepare her for what waited beyond those halls.
She hadn't mastered any new abilities, hadn't learned any advanced healing spells, and barely understood how to apply the techniques she had studied in practice.
And now Alessio was summoning the group —
the First Pioneers.
A beautiful title, heavy with meaning… and sometimes heavier than she could carry.
Fear crept into her chest — not the fear of danger, but the fear of disappointing.
What if I fail?
What if I'm not good enough when they need me most?
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to silence the thoughts.
But the Black Tower was not a place where hesitation survived long.
With a deep sigh, she rose from her bed.
There was no choice.
If the group was gathering, she couldn't pretend nothing was happening.
She couldn't hide among books while the others faced the unknown alone.
After all, that was why she was there —
to grow, to prove to herself that she could be useful.
She took her staff, adjusted her pale cloak, and walked through the silent corridors of the university.
Each step echoed softly between marble pillars, accompanied by the faint blue glow of mana spheres hovering along the walls.
As she passed through the main gates, the light outside blinded her for a moment — the contrast between the sacred interior and the living city always hit hard.
The city was alive — teeming with players and NPCs.
The streets overflowed with merchants, soldiers, adventurers, all moving quickly, preparing for what seemed like another great event.
Eleanor tried to focus on her path, keeping her gaze ahead, but she hadn't taken ten steps outside before hearing an unmistakable voice.
"Heeey! Look who finally showed up!"
Cassandra.
The red-haired mage leaned against one of the square's pillars, arms crossed and a satisfied grin on her face.
Her long fiery hair fell in soft waves, and her amber eyes shone with that untamable enthusiasm that seemed to define her very existence.
Beside her, Matteo waited patiently, calm as ever, holding a small magical device that spun slowly in his hand.
The two looked like they'd come from opposite worlds: Cassandra radiating energy and provocation, Matteo exuding quiet curiosity, always observing everything with restrained focus.
"I was just about to come drag you out myself," Cassandra said with a laugh, before Eleanor even had the chance to greet them.
Eleanor smiled, still trying to hide her nerves.
Seeing them there brought a wave of comfort — that old feeling of familiarity that made fear lose some of its weight.
She straightened her shoulders, drew a steady breath, and walked toward them, already knowing that from that moment on… there was no turning back.