The academy gates were far grander up close than Vane expected. A towering archway of white stone stood before them, etched with glowing runes that pulsed in time with the magic barrier surrounding the grounds. Two armored wardens flanked the entrance, their cloaks fluttering in the wind.
"State your names," one of them ordered.
Vane gave his, then stepped aside so the girl could register as well. Once their names were recorded on a floating crystal tablet, the gates glided open with a low hum.
A robed attendant appeared, bowing politely.
"Welcome, new students. Follow me."
The path led through a manicured courtyard, then into a long hallway lined with enchanted lamps. The attendant stopped before a tall, three-story building.
"This is Dormitory One. First-years will stay here until evaluations are complete. Rooms are assigned randomly."
The attendant handed them each a small bronze key.
"Your room numbers are engraved on the keys. Settle in. A bell will ring for lunch."
Vane glanced at his key.
"Room 32."
The girl checked hers.
"Oh... I'm Room 11. Looks like we're not close."
She gave him a small, shy smile before being led to the stairs.
Vane nodded. "See you later, then."
"[She seems harmless enough]" Oscar murmured.
[Although her survival instincts could use... development.]*
Vane rolled his eyes and headed to his room.
---
A Few Hours Later
A melodic chime echoed through the dorms.
Lunch.
Vane changed into the academy's temporary uniform—a simple dark tunic and cloak—and headed toward the dining hall.
The hall was enormous, easily large enough to fit hundreds. Floating chandeliers cast warm light across long wooden tables arranged in orderly rows. Students were already seated, chatting nervously or bragging about how they survived the forest.
"Vane!"
He turned to see the girl waving from a seat near the middle. He joined her, taking the open spot beside her.
"So," Vane said, "I never got your name."
"Oh—right!" She sat upright, brushing her hair back.
"My name is Lyra Ainsworth," she said with a small bow of her head. "I'm from Neiria."
"Neiria?" Vane repeated.
She brightened, clearly proud.
"Yep! It's a vassal town under the Aetherion Empire. We're famous for our metalwork—blacksmithing especially. Some of the best blades in the empire come from Neiria."
"[Ah, yes. Aetherion. A nation wealthy in natural resources and notoriously strict.]" Oscar commented.
Vane ignored the voice in his head.
"That's impressive. Never been there myself."
"What about you?" Lyra asked. "Where are you from?"
"A small town on the outskirts of Valeria," Vane said. "Near the capital."
Her eyes widened. "Wow... so you grew up close to the royal city? That's amazing!"
He shrugged. "It's quieter than people think."
Lyra hesitated, then bowed her head.
"Um... about earlier. In the forest."
Vane blinked. "...Yeah?"
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "If you hadn't shown up, I—I wouldn't be here. Not many people would keep their wits when faced with a Mythical beast."
Vane sighed. "It was nothing. Anyone would've—"
"No," she cut in gently. "Not anyone."
There was a pause before she asked, a bit cautiously,
"So... what type of magic do you use?"
His expression changed instantly—his face clouding over.
"I don't talk about my magic."
Lyra blinked, taken aback—but then she nodded.
"Oh. Sorry if that was too forward."
She let the subject drop and smiled again.
"Well... I use Spatial Magic. Mostly short-range distortion."
Oscar scoffed in Vane's mind.
"[Spatial? Hmph. Rare, but inefficient in untrained hands.]"
Vane kept his face neutral.
Behave, he thought.
Oscar clicked his mental tongue but went quiet.
Before Lyra could say anything else, a sharp *clank-clank-clank* rang across the dining hall—a spoon striking a glass cup.
All conversation died instantly.
In the center of the hall stood a tall man in elegant formal attire, red hair tied neatly behind his head with an undercut. His presence alone commanded silence.
"Good afternoon, students," he said, voice smooth and resonant. "I am Professor Caldan Rhel, the instructor in charge of all first-years."
Murmurs swept through the hall—some in awe, others in recognition.
Caldan smiled faintly.
"Congratulations on surviving the forest. Your journey through Valeria's Wildwood served as your unofficial entrance test. If you are seated here now... then you have already proven yourselves worthy."
His gaze swept the hall, pausing—just for a heartbeat—on Vane.
"Welcome," he said, "to the Valerian School of Magic."
The hall erupted into applause.
---