The atmosphere in the academy had shifted. The debates, the ethical trials, and the clash of tradition and innovation had left many students questioning themselves in ways they never had before.
For the first time, the certainty that had driven them to their respective divisions felt… fragile.
Kalem sat at a long wooden table in one of the academy's many open study halls, his fingers idly tapping against the surface. Around him, students from different divisions murmured among themselves—some animated, others subdued. The debates and trials of the past weeks had taken a toll, but it was more than that. Something deeper had settled in.
A student from the Spell Division, a young man named Rheis, sighed as he stared at his open book, rubbing his temples. "I spent years training my control over mana, studying incantations, practicing spell theory." He exhaled sharply. "And now, I'm starting to wonder—was this really the right path for me?"
A Material Division student across from him, Ilwen, hesitated before nodding. "I feel the same. I joined because I wanted to build things—contribute something tangible. But half the time, I feel more like a scribe than a craftsman. I don't know if this is what I really want."
Kalem listened, resting his chin on his knuckles.
Doubt was spreading.
A heated discussion broke out between students from different divisions.
"So what do we do?" Rheis asked. "Should we just… quit?"
Ilwen frowned. "Quitting isn't an option for everyone. Some of us joined because this was the smart path. I can't just drop everything because I have doubts."
"Then what, stay miserable?" Rheis snapped.
Another student chimed in, "Maybe it's not about what makes you happy, but what you can actually do. Some of us have obligations."
"Obligations?" Rheis scoffed. "To whom?"
"To our families. To the academy. To society."
Kalem finally spoke. "And to ourselves."
The table went quiet.
Kalem leaned forward, looking between them. "I get it. It's easy to question yourself when you see others succeeding, or when you start wondering if you made the right choice. But the truth is, we're all here because we chose to be. Maybe out of passion. Maybe out of necessity. But a choice is a choice."
Ilwen frowned. "So you're saying we should just push through?"
"No," Kalem said simply. "I'm saying you should decide what matters to you—passion or practicality. And that's something only you can answer."
Later that evening, Kalem found himself in the forge with Onyx, his bull, rested. He absentmindedly ran a hand through the beast's coarse fur, lost in thought.
Why was he here?
It wasn't just for knowledge. It wasn't for status. He had come to the academy for something beyond simple skill development. He wanted to understand the world, to see how far he could push himself.
But where was this path leading?
Jhaeros, standing nearby with Velka, his dire wolf, seemed to have similar thoughts. "You're thinking too much again," the Ilvaar muttered.
Kalem smirked. "Can't help it."
Jhaeros exhaled, leaning against the stable door. "I overheard some of the debates earlier. A lot of people are doubting themselves now."
"You too?" Kalem asked.
Jhaeros shrugged. "No. I knew from the start this was a gamble. Learning here wasn't about fitting into a mold—it was about taking what I could and making my own path." He looked at Kalem. "That's what you're doing too, right?"
Kalem thought for a moment before nodding. "Yeah."
Jhaeros tilted his head. "Then stop worrying. The ones who are struggling are the ones who followed a path they never questioned to begin with."
Kalem considered that.
Confronting the Question
The next day, the discussion continued in the library, where more students had gathered.
A girl from the Alchemy Division, Seren, spoke up. "The academy is designed to create masters of their fields. But what if you're not meant to be a master? What if you're meant to do something different?"
A professor who had been quietly observing finally stepped in—Professor Elias Greaves from the Historical Division.
"I see many of you are struggling with conviction," he said, his voice calm but firm. "And I won't give you some comforting answer about 'following your heart' or 'sticking to what's practical.'"
The room fell silent.
He gestured to a collection of old tomes. "History is full of people who abandoned their fields for something else. Some thrived because they had a calling elsewhere. Others failed, not because they lacked skill, but because they gave up too soon."
A Spell Division student hesitated. "So… you're saying we shouldn't change paths?"
Professor Greaves gave a small smile. "I'm saying that whatever path you choose, you must commit. Passion fades. Practicality shifts. But if you don't believe in what you're doing, you'll fail either way."
His words lingered.
As the discussion ended, Kalem found himself walking beside Lyra.
"Are you ever afraid you made the wrong choice?" she asked.
Kalem thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No. But that doesn't mean I always know where this path leads."
Lyra sighed. "I just don't want to wake up one day and realize I wasted my time."
Kalem smirked. "Then don't waste it. Make sure whatever you do has meaning."
Lyra nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I guess that's the real challenge, isn't it?"
As students drifted off, some still uncertain, others reaffirmed, Kalem realized something—
It wasn't about finding the perfect path.
It was about choosing to walk it with purpose.