"Let's go."
The old man tapped his cane against the surface of the carpet.
And in the blink of an eye, a flash.
Reality twisted.
Max barely had time to react before everything around him dissolved like ink in water. A sudden, disorienting jolt ripped through his body, like his insides were caught in Washing machine (tho he doesn't know what that is).
His knees almost gave way slightly.
"What the?" he muttered, gripping his stomach as nausea bubbled up. The world spun. Or maybe he was spinning.
He closed is mouth hard fighting the urge to vomit.
One second, they were on a flying carpet surrounded by endless sky. The next, he was standing on solid ground well, sort of.
Wooden floorboards creaked beneath his boots. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the sudden shift in light and atmosphere. The air smelled like pine and old parchment warm and musty. Walls made of polished oak stretched around him, lined with shelves, runes, and strange glowing artifacts. and faint hum pulsed through the floor, like the room itself was alive.
"What just… happened?" Max said, more to himself than anyone else.
His head was still spinning like crazy.
It felt like his body had twisted inside out, then been reassembled slightly up side down totally wrong. Not painful just wrong. Like someone had shaken him in a snow globe and left him standing in a completely different scene.
He turned slowly, still dizzy, still trying to catch up with reality.
"Lumivox," the green haired man said calmly, already dusting off his blue shirt as if this was a daily commute. "A teleporting high level skill You'll get used to it. Well... Eventually i guess."
Max didn't reply.
All of his attention was locked onto the room around him.
The space looked like what a principal's office should look like in a school of magic if the principal also happened to be a bureaucratic storm trapped inside a wizard's tower.
Papers floated midair, gently flapping as they circled above the desk like they were waiting in line for an audience. Some would drop down in front of the old man, hover politely, and then once marked with a flick of his pen swoop themselves into neatly arranged piles.
Old Man Magnus moved with practiced ease, settling into a broad, high backed chair that creaked under his weight and age. He didn't even glance at the papers(from max prospective). His hand moved lazily, casually, yet never missed a mark.
To Max it was nothing short of sorcery.
He didn't know what teleportation was. He didn't understand how a piece of paper could fly. But he knew one thing everything in this place was magic.
"Professor Endeved," Magnus said not even looking up, "would you kindly call Professor Lysira for me?"
Julius turned toward him, Little hesitated. Their eyes met for a brief second. There was something unspoken exchanged in that glance something layered, complicated, and just a little sharp around the edges.
Then Julius looked toward Max. There was a flicker of something in his expression. Sympathy, maybe? Or caution? max doesn't know.
Without a word, he turned and walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him with a quiet, final thud.
And just like that now Max was now alone.
Alone with the old man. Alone in the room where paper moved on its own and time seemed to hum softly in the corners.
Magnus didn't speak.
He simply continued signing documents, one after another, his expression unreadable, eyes occasionally flicking toward Max without much really looking at him.
Max stood there, frozen.
Uhh So What now?
Was this an interrogation? An interview or something? Maybe a trap?
What was he suppose to do now?...wait? He guess so!
He had a thousand questions clawing at the back of his throat, but none of them dared to come out.
Instead, he watched.
Watched the old man work. Watched the magic dance through the air like it was the most normal thing in the world.
For the first time in a long while, Max felt small.
Not in the bad way. Not weak its Just… like a single page in a massive, enchanted book he hadn't even started to read yet.
And this continued for don't onow how long.
Time stretched like taffy thick and silent as Max stood there, unmoving.
No one spoke. Not him. Not the old man.
Minutes passed, or maybe it was longer. The silence was loud. Not just quiet but loud. The kind that wraps around your ears and makes your heartbeat sound like a war drum. Max didn't dare shift his weight. It felt like even breathing wrong would break something.
Across the room, the old man sat with his head down, eyes scanning the papers in front of him as if Max didn't exist like the boy wasn't even there. As if he'd forgotten entirely.
Max sighed hard.
The pressure sat on his shoulders like wet and cold snow. This wasn't boredom. This was torture.
And then finally, the old man's voice cut through the silence soft, casual, like they'd been having a conversation the whole time.
"Do you have a silver-colored pendant?"
Max blinked. "Huh?"
His hand moved instinctively, reaching into his pants pocket before his mind could catch up.
How the hell did he know?
Before he could ask, the old man continued, voice still calm very calm and gentle actually.
"Don't stress, Mister Stormhart. I don't want it. I'm just asking… if you have it."
Max froze.
The name. He said the name.
He wont lie he felt weird being called by his new unfamiliar name.
And for the first time, Magnus raised his head, locking eyes with Max.
That stare felt like standing in front of an avalanche moments before it dropped.
Slowly, Max pulled the pendant from his pocket, hesitating slightly as the light caught it.
"Is it this?"
He held it up, the delicate chain draped over his fingers. The silver pendant dangled in the air, shaped like a subtle "T" with a tiny red ruby nestled in its hilt small, easily overlooked, yet oddly weighty in presence.
Magnus didn't speak. For a brief second barely noticeable his expression shifted. A pause. A small twitching of old man left eye.
But Max missed it. Too caught up in his own curiosity.
The headmaster gave a casual short nod, like it was nothing at all. Just a trinket. Just another day.
But his eyes never left the pendant. Not for a second.
"Is it something important?" Max asked, voice low but pressing. "I Mean Why do you know about it… sir?"
For once, he didn't call them "old coins." No jokes. Inside his head its alright but outside that'll be problematic. Just instinctive respect afterall he's not that stupid.
"You can call me Headmaster," the man replied. "Headmaster Fledrock. And as for that necklace"
He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together.
"I don't know. No one does. But I'll say this take care of it."
"Just make sure you never drop it or let it get robbed."
His tone was light, but the warning behind the words was sharp.
"Don't lose it, kid."
He said Same thing three times
Max didn't need to be told twice. He slipped the chain over his neck and tucked the pendant under his shirt, where it always rested. Cold against his skin. Familiar. Like it had always been there, even before he was born.
There was something the old man wasn't saying. Max could tell. The way his eyes never left the pendant. The way his voice tried too hard to sound casual.
Is it something important? he thought
He's hiding something dont he, Max thought. This pendant means something. Maybe wait is this the reason I got invited here? he clenched the pendent.
He didn't voice it well ofcourse because he doesn't trust these people yet. like everything seems so sus.
Instead, he glanced around the office.
"So… what do I do now? How does someone study magic... Headmaster?"
The question was honest. Max knew magic existed hell, he'd been living among it for the last day. But no one ever explained how it worked. How to start. How to learn. It wasn't like picking up a sword or reading a book.
He was genuinely curious.
Magnus chuckled, deep and gravelly.
"You'll learn, don't worry. Looking at you… I'd say you've never been used magic before. No exposure. No spells. Probably never even seen a proper wand, have you?"
Max shook his head.
He doesn't even know what wand is in the first place.
The old man grinned.
"Well, lucky you. Your classes start tomorrow morning."
"Lucky?" Max raised an eyebrow.
He didn't feel particularly lucky. Cursed, maybe. Confused? Absolutely. But lucky?
Magnus chuckled again, a twinkle of something unreadable in his eyes.
"Very lucky, if you ask me."
Knock knock
Before Max could press further, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Magnus called.
"You called, Headmaster Fledrock?"
The voice that slipped into the room was smooth, smoky, and completely unapologetic in tone. The door creaked open as a woman stepped inside, robes of dark green draped around her like living vines. They clung to her in places, flowed in others like the forest itself had dressed her.
Julius followed in behind her, saying nothing, closing the door behind with a soft thud looking little burned out to max.
but that wasn't where max focus was. Not at all.
Max turned to look and froze.
His breath almost stuck in his throat.
She was… breathtaking. And not in the polite, 'wow-she's-pretty' way. No, this woman was on an entirely different plane of beauty. She moved like water and poison, all at once. Dangerous, beautiful, untouchable. Her dark green hair tumbled down her back in silky waves, swaying with every step, stopping just at the curve of her hips.
Her figure was impossible to ignore elegant and sharp, every movement coiled with power. And yet, she was modestly covered in thick robes, only her head and sharp, sculpted face visible. tho It didn't matter. Just one glance made Max feel like he was staring at the living embodiment of magic itself.
He'd seen magical things. Fought off bizarre emotions. Been flung onto flying carpets and had skills shoved into his system screen. But this… this woman… she was different.
Max thought, wide eyed. Not just using it. She is it.
It was like she is magic? Like her body is made out of magic itself.
He hadn't felt this way with Headmaster Fledrock. Not even with that green haird man. This was something else entirely. Her presence lit up the room and darkened it at the same time.
Her eyes, sharp as green rose petals, immediately zeroed in on Magnus behind his desk.
"Ahh Professor Lysira, you're here," Magnus said with a soft nod, setting aside a stack of papers.
Her expression didn't change not a flicker of pleasantry. Her gaze was stone cold and irritated, and her voice held the edge of someone permanently two seconds from losing their patience.
Any important work Headmaster? Be quick. I'm extremely busy." She didn't ask but it was like she grabbed words and throw them at old man with powerful hand Swing.
Straight to the point. No sugar, no sweet. Her annoyance didn't hide behind her words it marched proudly alongside them. Max could almost see her thoughts trailing all over her face. She didn't even try to contain them.
"Ohh right," Magnus replied calmly trying to ignore the bander. "How are preparations going for the start of term? All smooth, I hope?"
Lysira crossed her arms. "Naturally. Everything's going perfectly. Though… it would be even better if certain headmasters and some professors actually committed to their duties instead of vanishing without a word."
Max blinked.
She wasn't pulling punches at all.
"I'd love an explanation," she continued, her eyes narrowing. "But I don't have time to dig it out of you. Unfortunately I'm busy doing my job."
Max glanced sideways at Endever, who was standing next to him. The green-haired man took two careful steps backward, expression locked in a perfect poker face. Trying to be invisible.
Max's eyes flicked from Endever back to the woman. Damn. Even he's scared of her.
Lysira wasn't finished.
"And it's extremely fortunate (sadly) we kept this from Professor Bianca. If she'd found out… there might've been casualties."
In simple words saying she would love it.
Max couldn't tell if she was joking.
Magnus chuckled, low and unbothered masked. "Ah, well I had important reasons."
He gave a light cough, as if that excused anything.
"Of course you did," Lysira said flatly, tone making it clear she didn't buy that for a second.
Max stood in the middle of it all quiet, awkward, and very aware that he might have just met the most intimidating person alive.
And somehow, this was still just the start of his first day.
"So what is it?" Lysira asked coolly, one brow arched as her gaze slid toward Max with razor-sharp precision. "And if I may ask… whose child is this? Definitely not yours just by the looks of it."
Max's spine straightened. Her eyes were on him now. Staring right through him.
"Hello Miss… me Maximum I mean, I'm, uh… well, umm… you're beautiful… No! That's not what I meant!"
He could hear the words tumbling out of his mouth like water from a broken jug.
"I mean you're not no, I mean you are, but… sorry what am I saying ahh well…"
His soul practically Escaped from his body from nipples specifically.
Yup. I fucked up. Hard.
Why did I even open my mouth?
She hadn't even asked him to speak. She was talking to the Headmaster. All he had to do was stand there and not ruin his existence. But no, here he was declaring accidental insults and compliments in the same breath.
I literally just told the most dangerous-looking beauty in the world that she's not beautiful.
Max's entire brain was short-circuiting.
If his mother saw this, she'd have disowned him on the spot. "That's not my son," she'd say. "My son would never be that stupid."
What the hell is even happening to me? he thought. I've seen girls. I've even accidentally ofcourse seen girls bathing by the rivers in the village didn't feel like this then... but.
Her gaze stayed locked on him. Cold. Unreadable. Not even blinking. Max could feel heat spreading up his neck into his cheeks.
His face was burning red.
He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
Seconds dragged on in silence. Her eyes still on him, his mind still collapsing.
And then finally, like the last drop of water from a stone, she said:
"Pleasure."
One word. Smooth as silk. Delivered with a blank expression. And then her attention shifted back to Magnus without another glance at Max.
Max just stood there, feeling like a soggy sock in a kingdom of swords.
Magnus cleared his throat, a slight cough covering the grin tugging at his lips.
"Professor Lysira," he began, his tone now a touch more formal, "meet Mr. Maximum Stormhart. He'll be joining us as a first-year student of Solador's Division, starting tomorrow."
He gestured to Max with one hand like presenting an antique at an auction.
"And Max, meet your future professor Professor Lysira. She'll be teaching you Spellweaving and Emotioncraft."
Max could barely look up. His cheeks were still hot. His heartbeat louder than his thoughts. It felt exactly like being caught stammering in front of a crush and then realizing your crush might also be a deadly serpent goddess disguised in mortal skin.
Before Max could embarrass himself further, Lysira's eyes cut back to Magnus.
"Blue eyes and a Stormhart," she murmured. "Now that requires a long explanation, Headmaster Fledrock."
It's for sure not so hygienic for your health, headmaster, if I may comment.
She folded her arms, one brow arching with skeptical authority.
"And," she added crisply, "you might also want to explain why you're saying 'new first-year student' when, last I checked, admissions were finalized and assigned three months ago."
Her words dropped like icy daggers.
"Tomorrow is the welcome ceremony. Presumably."
Max had never seen someone politely accuse a headmaster of breaching the natural order of things with such surgical precision.
Magnus just gave a tired, almost playful sigh, rubbing his temple.
"Yes, yes, I know. I'll explain everything. And no this was not a mistake. Consider it… a special case."
"A very Special case of that."
Lysira didn't blink. "Special tends to mean problematic when it comes from your mouth."
She turned back to Max, eyeing him once more. This time with less coldness. More calculation. Like she was studying a puzzle she hadn't expected to see today.
Max, still recovering, managed a weak smile that looked more like he was trying not to choke on air.