The New Year
George awoke to a symphony of birdsong filtering through the stone arches of the dormitory. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew and ancient dust. He tumbled out of bed with a newfound energy, dressing in his dark third-year uniform with practiced speed. After months of survival in the industrial shadows of the warehouse district, the familiar weight of the academy cloth felt like a shield of normalcy. He rushed through the corridors, his boots echoing against the polished floors, until he reached the courtyard fountain. Nana, Kayn, and Faust were already there, a sight that warmed George's chest. Nana Ravenspear stood tall, her vibrant purple braids caught in the morning light, her posture more rigid and purposeful than ever before. Beside her, Kayn Alabaster leaned against the stone basin, his messy black hair absorbing the sun's rays. The jagged scar that traced a permanent line across his eye was visible in the light—a trophy of the violence they had survived during the break. Faust Fangula was already buried in a text, adjusting his spectacles as he looked up with a small, rare smile. The group shared a hearty laugh, the sound ringing out over the splashing water as they held conversation about the past year and the new adventures they would have this year. They huddled close, sharing notes on spells and ideas they had refined in secret.
Faust spoke with a glow of academic pride about his summer. "My parents and I visited the Grand National Museum in Elysium," he said, his face practically beaming. "The artifacts were wonderful—actual relics from the Age of Creation. I spent hours just tracing the runes on the tapestries."
"My mother and I spent our break enjoying our travels, visiting some of Larrisa's national sites," Nana added, her expression softening with genuine affection for her homeland. "I never knew how much our home truly had to offer. We are truly blessed to live here."
Kayn shifted, his gaze momentarily distant. "I spent my break with my older cousin Orlando. We practiced new spells together until my hands bled. He's tough, but I feel sharper."
George smiled, thinking of his own quiet reprieve. "I stayed with my grandfather. We traveled to different fishing sites and spent the rest of the time doing masonry work. There's something grounding about stone and sweat."
General Studies The Lecture of Draconia
As the morning progressed, the halls and courtyard became flooded with students. The quartet joined the flow toward General Studies as the bell rang. Welcoming the students was Professor Log, who urged them to take their seats. He started by breaking down this year's curriculum, his chalk clicking rhythmically against the board, before explaining that before the mid-year break, the students would be taking a field trip to the East Blue Facility.
Faust's eyes lit up like stars. "East Blue Facility!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with excitement.
George couldn't help but smile at his friend's enthusiasm. The rest of the students erupted into cheers, a rare moment of shared joy in the rigorous academy schedule. Professor Log calmed them down as he began his lecture, delving into the geopolitics of their world. He tapped his Tele-stone ring, and magical projections painted a vivid picture of the nations beyond Larrisa. His knowledge of historical anecdotes seemed endless.
"Consider Draconia," Log began, "a bordering mountainous country to the east, shrouded in ancient legends. It is home to an impenetrable alpine citadel city, Sparta, governed by the Drago lineage—currently King Agis Drago II. Draconia is comprised primarily of a complex system of mountain ranges that cover ninety percent of the country, with ranges as wide as three thousand miles and reaching elevations of fifteen thousand to fifty thousand feet. Mount Sparticus's peak is the highest altitude at fifty-eight thousand feet."
The students marveled at the projection. "Draconia is the only country that inhabits dragons," Log continued. "With a population of sixty million humans and sixty million dragons. The River Lacedaemon provides the majority of the water, while the small Laconian plain enables them to grow some food. Because of their limited food and water supply, they have historically raided other countries."
Faust was both terrified and fascinated, scribbling notes so fast his quill blurred. George couldn't look away, thinking about the adventure that might await him there. Nana and Kayn looked visibly uneasy at the thought of dragons. Professor Log continued his lecture until the bell rang, expressing to the students that they must study hard for the many quizzes and tests ahead.
The Survival Statistics
The students then made their way to lunch. George, Nana, Kayn, Faust, Elvina, and Ren all sat together; Onyx joined them after a while. They discussed the dragons, the East Blue Laboratory, and the Harvest Festival.
"The East Blue Laboratory is amazing," Faust shouted, causing the entire cafeteria to stare. "I've been there a few times, and every time I'm there, there's always something new."
"The Harvest Festival sounds scary," George uttered, the term feeling heavy in his mouth.
"Yeah," Kayn said, his voice dropping. "They held the last one a few years ago in Hyperion, and I heard none of the students made it back."
"I'll definitely pass the Harvest," Ren said confidently, adjusting his red-tinted glasses. Onyx nodded in agreement. "Yeah, how hard could it be?"
"It sounds way too scary," Elvina added, her voice trembling slightly. "I've heard stories of some of the past trials."
Faust pushed his glasses up. "Yeah, I've done some research. Apparently, there's only a thirty percent chance of us surviving."
The group went cold. George pondered the idea of he and his friends not surviving the trial.
Nana suddenly stood up, slapping the table with a sharp crack. "As long as we stand together, we can get through anything!" she said.
George stood beside her, the fear washing away. He slapped the table and raised his fist. "Exactly! Look at what we got through this past year. We survived so much, and we were able to get through it because we were together."
The table cheered, "Yeah!"
Conjuration Studies Flow, Not Force
As the bell rang, the group made their way to Aura Conjuration. Suddenly, a blue and silver blur streaked through the corridor, accompanied by a melodic laugh. Professor Jinx Starwind skidded to a graceful halt at the classroom door, balancing perfectly on her wind-woven broom. She was illuminatingly beautiful, her eyes swirling with colors that looked like magic itself, and she greeted the students with a playful, infectious smile. "Welcome back, my little sparks!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. "My dear students, ive messed tou all! Are you ready for anothwr magical year? Im excites to watch how much you all will grow this year."
As they took their seats, she transitioned seamlessly into her role as a widely recognized prodigy. "Today, we revisit aura volume," she said, her tone becoming slightly more perceptive as she scanned each student individually, noting their progress. She conjured a small fireball in her palm, her eyes glowing with intensity. "An individual has a limited, specific amount of Aura available. Training allows you to increase your 'output'—the energy you can push out at once." She flowed her aura into the fireball, making it grow larger with perfect, effortless control. "Overloading can give a massive boost, but it drains your reserve instantly." She manipulated the flame, making it shrink and grow before leading them to the training field with a skip in her step. "Remember, flow not force!" she cheered, darting between students to offer high-speed corrections.
Nana, Davina, and Nora managed massive fireballs, while Ren's lost control. Flynn Nightwing, however, was not only conjuring a massive fireball, he managed to conjure two simultaneously.
Jinx zipped over to him, her eyes wide with delight. "Ooooh, how wonderful, Flynn! Double the flames! Double the fun!"
Combat Studies The Empty Reserves
At Combat Studies, Professor Ironheart directed them to the track. They ran ten laps, followed by grueling endurance, strength, and agility exercises. "To control aura, you must prepare the body," he barked. "If you force aura through a weak frame, you will destroy yourself."
By the end, George's arms felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. Kayn, Faust, and Freda were barely able to walk. Even Flynn moved sluggishly.
Aura Control Studies Visualization
Nearly unconscious, they arrived at Aura Control. Professor Zorro Diego awaited them, leaning against a stone pillar with the languid, effortless grace of a true hidalgo. He looked at the panting students and offered a courtly, slightly mocking bow, his long, messy black hair framed a face that seemed perpetually amused by a secret joke. "Ah, the valiant warriors return," Zorro said, his voice a smooth, melodic tenor with a playful edge. He let out a hardy, whimsical laugh. "You arrive empty, battered, and perhaps a bit humbled. No worries; like a well-tended vineyard, you must be pruned to grow. I shall help you dig deep into your reserves."
He adjusted his cuffs with a flourish, his eyes gleaming with a philosophical calm. "Aura visualization," he declared, his movements fluid and precise. "It is the art of seeing beyond the physical mask. I want you to visualize the energy force that surrounds an object. For today, I shall be that object."
Zorro's posture shifted, becoming intensely focused despite his relaxed air. He channeled a portion of his aura into his form. George watched in awe as Zorro manifested a swirling, majestic violet aura that pulsated like a royal cloak. "Concentrate your energy into your eyes," Zorro commanded, his tone sharp yet encouraging. "See the truth beneath the surface."
For hours, the students tried but failed. The air was thick with frustration and the scent of ozone as they strained their vision, trying to grasp a reality that remained stubbornly invisible. Their eyes burned from the effort, and more than a few students sat back with low groans, rubbing their temples. Then, finally, Flynn managed to succeed. A small gasp escaped him as his eyes widened, tracking the ebb and flow of Zorro's energy. Following his lead, Nana focused with a fierce intensity until she too nodded, her gaze locked onto the shimmering light. One by one, the others began to break through—Nora, then Davina, then the rest of the class as the collective effort seemed to thin the veil. George took a deep breath, pushing past the overwhelming exhaustion that threatened to pull him into sleep. He refused to be the one left in the dark. He gathered his remaining sparks of energy, funneling them upward through his meridians and into his vision with a quiet, desperate focus. Suddenly, the world shifted. The physical courtyard and the stone pillars didn't disappear, but they were overlaid by a vibrant tapestry of energy. The air was no longer empty; it was alive with humming currents and drifting motes of power. At the center of it all stood Zorro, glowing with a brilliance that made George's heart skip a beat.
When Zorro asked for the color, the class declared in unison, "Purple, like the rarest gem!"
Drained but bonded, they spent the night hanging out by the river. George, Nana, Kayn, Faust, Ren, Davina, Claudius, and Elvina talked about class and the adventures ahead. George relished the thought of the friends he had made, a world away from his quiet life with his grandfather.