The academy grounds had always been a place of movement and noise, but now, it felt different. The air was charged with an almost tangible sense of change, a shifting tide that pulled each student toward their respective paths. The results of the exams had been finalized, and for the hundred students who remained, the final year was a challenge unlike any before—a test of mastery, conviction, and personal philosophy.
For the first time, the group found themselves walking separate roads.
Material Division – Precision vs. Possibility
Kalem stood inside the workshop of the Material Division, hands brushing over the surface of a half-formed rune circuit. The room was filled with the quiet hum of machinery, the scent of burning metal and arcane residue mixing in the air.
The instructor, an older man with silver-streaked hair, observed the students. "This year, you will either dedicate yourselves to synthetic material synthesis—understanding the laws governing new substances—or you will craft a research paper on material properties. Choose wisely."
Kalem weighed the choice carefully. Theoretical work provided insight, but direct experimentation revealed the unknown. Some students had already made their decision.
"I'm going with theory," a peer declared. "If we don't understand the fundamental properties, we're just guessing when we craft."
Another student scoffed. "That's exactly why practical synthesis matters more. You don't learn by thinking alone—you learn by creating."
Kalem watched the debate unfold. He understood both sides, but ultimately, innovation came from both deep study and bold experimentation. The question was, how much could tradition accommodate progress?
Beast Study Division – Mastery vs. Connection
Jhaeros stood before Velka and Noir, his two bonded companions, as the head of the Beast Study Division paced before them. The challenge this year was simple: train one's beast to act as a hunting hound—silent, obedient, and precise.
For Jhaeros, this presented a challenge. Velka was a dire wolf—loyal, intelligent, but too independent for the rigid obedience they required. Noir, his shadow panther, was even more of a free spirit.
A student next to him smirked. "You're at a disadvantage. Training two beasts at once? Foolish."
Jhaeros met his gaze. "Two are stronger than one."
"That depends on whether they listen," the other student replied. "Control matters more than trust. A true beast master dominates."
Jhaeros disagreed but said nothing. He believed in a bond based on understanding, not subjugation. But would that method stand against those who forced their creatures into submission?
Spell Division – The Weight of Knowledge
The Spell Division's library was dimly lit, lined with ancient tomes and arcane texts. Isolde ran her fingers along the spine of a book filled with rare spell forms. As a sponsored student, she had access to spells that most only dreamed of.
"Are you going to hoard all that knowledge?" a voice behind her asked.
She turned to see another student, arms crossed. "What do you mean?"
"You have access to techniques we'll never see unless you share them. But you've kept them to yourself."
Isolde hesitated. It wasn't as if she refused to teach others—but was it her responsibility? Some knowledge was dangerous, requiring careful study. But was withholding it any better than restricting knowledge for personal gain?
The division's philosophy had always been about discipline and control, but now she wondered—was mastery only for those who proved worthy, or did knowledge belong to all?
Elementalism Division – Instinct vs. Structure
Nara sat cross-legged in the training grounds of the Elementalism Division, fire flickering around her arms in a controlled dance. The instructor watched, unimpressed.
"Too wild," he commented. "Elemental mastery requires discipline. You are not taming fire—you are becoming it."
Nara exhaled slowly. "But fire isn't disciplined. It moves, it changes—it adapts."
A nearby student smirked. "That's exactly why you don't get it. Without form, your power is wasted."
She clenched her fists. The raw strength of elementalism was in its freedom. Yet, to stand among the greats, she had to control that freedom. Was compromise necessary, or was her approach simply not enough?
Alchemy Division – Science vs. Art
Lyra had spent the past hour carefully measuring out ingredients for a transmutation. The reaction was stable—too stable. Something felt off.
"Alchemy is about exact ratios," one of her classmates said, shaking his head. "Instinct doesn't belong here."
She frowned. "That's not true. Some of the best alchemists work by feeling, not just numbers."
A professor approached. "Is alchemy a science or an art? You must decide. Precise measurements will lead to reliable results. Intuition may uncover new ones. But only one method will guide your path."
She looked down at the shimmering mixture, wondering—was innovation about following strict rules, or did breakthroughs come from those willing to experiment beyond them?
History Division – Truth vs. Narrative
Garrick sat in the history archives, surrounded by scrolls detailing the Forgotten Wars. The problem wasn't finding information—it was that the records contradicted each other.
"You're chasing ghosts," a senior student remarked. "Some parts of history are meant to be forgotten."
"But why?" Garrick asked. "If the truth exists, we should seek it."
The student sighed. "What matters more? Truth, or the lessons people take from history?"
Garrick frowned. That was the core of his struggle—history was written by those who survived. Did the past belong to those who studied it, or those who shaped it?
Paths Diverge, but Purpose Remains
That evening, as they all gathered in the tavern once more, the weight of their experiences lingered in their minds.
Each of them had stepped into a world of conflicting ideas, where the lines between right and wrong, progress and tradition, control and freedom blurred.
Jhaeros spoke first. "We're being pushed in different directions."
Nara scoffed. "Isn't that the point?"
Kalem leaned back. "But does one method have to be right? Can't multiple paths lead to mastery?"
Isolde, staring at her untouched drink, murmured, "Maybe that's what we're meant to figure out."
Lyra sighed. "Then we better do it fast. The year's only getting harder."
As the conversation faded, they each silently wondered—was there ever truly one right way? Or were they simply meant to find their own?