The headmaster Alastair Cavendish nodded slowly after listening to Augustus, his expression unreadable. He popped a small piece of candy into his mouth, chewing it absentmindedly as if weighing every word Augustus had spoken.
"Tell me, then… what drives you to want to teach at Eldoria Academy?" Cavendish asked. His tone was calm but commanding, each word deliberate. "With your abilities, your achievements, and the recognition you've earned, opportunities abound. You could serve the noble families, command influence, devote your life to research, or simply live in comfort. And yet… you wish to teach. Why?"
Augustus Breakspeare, ever composed, took a slow sip of tea before answering. His grey-blue eyes met Cavendish's gaze with serene clarity, unflinching under the weight of scrutiny.
"Headmaster… I have always found it… frustrating, almost insulting, to be measured against legends," Augustus said, his voice quiet but firm. "As though every step I take must echo someone else's shadow. As if I am constantly being prepared to become something dark, something dangerous."
The room fell silent. The portraits of previous headmasters seemed to lean slightly from their frames, intrigued. Some, like the late Phineas Wynthorne, bore expressions of curiosity and quiet amusement. Cavendish, however, remained impassive, still chewing his candy.
"You cannot blame me, Augustus," the headmaster finally said, voice steady. "Your talent has been apparent from the very beginning. The similarities with certain historical figures of Eldoria's past are undeniable. I do not mean to label you as they were, but it is natural to study the potential inherent in someone like you."
"I understand," Augustus replied calmly. "But I seek knowledge, not power. Power is merely a consequence of understanding, not the goal itself."
Cavendish's piercing gaze did not waver. "Perhaps. Yet even as a child, you were already considered a master of complex magic. And the Dark Arts… they are never simple to practice safely."
Augustus shook his head. "I do not approach them with fear, nor do I avoid them. I seek to understand their origins, their essence, and their effects. Dark magic exists as much as white magic does, and it is an intrinsic part of Eldoria. With discipline, its dangers can be managed without succumbing to them."
The headmaster exhaled lightly, a mixture of weariness and admiration in his voice. "It is presumptuous to believe one can command such power without being changed by it."
"And it is equally foolish to ignore it," Augustus countered. "We cannot close our eyes to what exists. Dark magic shapes our world as much as light magic does, and understanding it is essential if we wish to wield it responsibly and teach others to do the same."
On the desk beside Cavendish, a black cat named Nyx slept, undisturbed by the conversation, a silent presence that lent the room a sense of calm and normalcy. Its slumbering form was oblivious to the intensity of the discussion, yet somehow it grounded the space around it.
A deep silence fell. Here were not ordinary students or teachers, but two of Eldoria's most brilliant minds. They were conversing in a society existing in a dimension separate from the mundane world—a realm with its own rules, its own magic, and a civilization unseen and unknowable to the "mundanes" who believed themselves to comprehend the cosmos.
Augustus tilted his head toward the ethereal lights of Eldoria visible through the window. A faint, almost ironic smile touched his lips.
"It is… almost humorous, you know," he began, speaking more to himself than to Cavendish, "how the mundanes talk of parallel worlds and other dimensions as though they are distant impossibilities. And yet, we live in one. Eldoria exists, fully realized, while they debate what they cannot see or touch. Everything they speculate about… we witness every day, yet it is inconceivable to them."
Cavendish inclined his head, acknowledging the point without speaking. The truth was clear to both of them: Eldoria was a separate reality, a dimension layered over but removed from the ordinary world, its laws, societies, and magics self-contained and potent.
After a few moments, Augustus let his gaze linger on the sprawling cityscape. "As a child, I was ambitious—perhaps even more so than some legendary figures of history. I dreamed of creating a true wizard civilization: gathering all the knowledge, all the resources, and guiding our society toward a luminous future."
"And then?" Cavendish prompted, curious.
"Then," Augustus continued, voice calm but resolute, "we would explore the stars. The mundanes have already measured the cosmos and know how vast it is, how small their world is. They speculate endlessly about life elsewhere, imagining civilizations beyond their comprehension. I asked myself the same question: if there are other wizards in different worlds, in other dimensions, what knowledge do they possess? What kind of magic do they wield?"
"The goal," he said, lifting his teacup and watching the steam rise, "would have been to guide the wizards of Eldoria to reach outward—to explore, to meet these civilizations, to exchange knowledge and resources. Imagine how prosperous our society could become through such contact: new spells, new alchemy, discoveries of unknown creatures, plants, phenomena… studying the very fabric of time, space, life, and consciousness."
"And yet," Augustus added, a faint irony creeping into his voice, "the mundanes theorize about infinite universes and parallel worlds as though it were some distant fantasy. We, however, reside already in one. We navigate its intricacies daily, while they squabble over what they cannot perceive."
Cavendish studied Augustus, measuring the combination of intellect, ambition, and subtle humor. "And you intend to guide Eldoria through this… era of exploration?"
"Precisely," Augustus said. "We would expand our understanding of the cosmos, of magic itself, across realms and realities. Our civilization would leave an imprint not just among the stars, but across dimensions—stretching Eldoria's influence and understanding far beyond what any mundane eye could detect."
Cavendish remained silent for a long moment, absorbing the weight of Augustus' vision. Here was a young man whose intellect, foresight, and ambition were rare even among Eldoria's greatest wizards. His goals were vast, his understanding nuanced, and his awareness of Eldoria's dimensional reality complete.
Augustus lowered his gaze, watching the city's glowing spires twinkle in the twilight. The sleeping Nyx shifted slightly but remained curled on the desk, unconcerned with the magnitude of the conversation.
"This," Augustus said softly, almost rhetorically, "is why I wish to teach. Knowledge is not simply to be hoarded. It is to be cultivated, shared, and expanded. To educate is to seed the next generation, to guide them in the careful stewardship of magic—not just for Eldoria, but for all who may exist beyond its borders. Even if those boundaries are invisible to the rest of the universe, they are very real to us."
Cavendish finally spoke, his voice steady and approving. "Then it seems, Augustus, you are ready. Not merely to teach, but to think beyond Eldoria itself. Few have the vision—or the courage—to comprehend the responsibility that comes with such awareness."
Augustus nodded slightly, a quiet determination settling into his posture. The city below shimmered, a nexus of energy and civilization in a dimension untouched by the mundane. The cat, still asleep, seemed to underscore the paradox: life here was extraordinary and yet ordinary, complex and yet simple.
The interview continued, but the purpose had already crystallized: Augustus Breakspeare, with his mind sharpened by the memory of his past life and the boundless potential of Eldoria, was not merely a candidate. He was the embodiment of Eldoria's future—its ambition, its intellect, and its bridge to the unknown realms beyond.