The following morning arrived with unsettling punctuality. My newly blue hair, courtesy of last night's magical mishap, refused to be tamed, glowing faintly in the mirror as I attempted to make myself presentable. Finn had somehow managed to style his into an elaborate coif that made the magical mutation look intentional, while Gavril had simply tied his back, the sapphire strands contrasting sharply against his dark uniform.
"You know," Finn said, examining his reflection with obvious satisfaction, "I think this color actually suits me. Maybe your luck did us a favor for once."
I grunted noncommittally, still trying to flatten a particularly rebellious tuft that insisted on standing straight up like a luminescent exclamation point.
"Don't get your hopes up," I muttered. "My luck doesn't do favors. It's probably just setting us up for something worse."
Gavril, already dressed and waiting by the door, checked the timepiece. "We should go. Professor Gravitas is known for locking the doors precisely at the scheduled start time. I've heard he once left the Archmage of the Western Reach standing in the hallway for arriving thirty seconds late."
With one last futile attempt to tame my glowing hair, I grabbed my satchel and followed them into the corridor. Students streamed toward the central spire, all wearing the same deep blue uniforms but distinguished by a variety of magical accessories and, in our case, matching blue hair. I noticed several older students glancing at us, whispering behind their hands.
"Well, if your goal was to remain anonymous," Finn said cheerfully, "I'd say that ship has sailed, caught fire, sunk, and been claimed by merfolk."
"Thanks for the reminder," I grumbled.
We entered the Lecture Hall, and I stopped dead in my tracks, causing a minor pile-up of students behind me. Unlike the Great Hall with its cosmic ceiling, this room bent reality in a different direction. The chamber was spherical, with no apparent floor or ceiling, just continuous curved walls covered in arcane writings that shifted and rearranged themselves constantly. Seats were arranged in concentric rings that somehow always appeared to be level despite the curvature. Students simply walked to any point on the sphere and sat down, gravity adjusting accordingly so that "down" was always relative to their position.
"Stop gawking, Ardent," Gavril murmured, nudging me forward. "You're making us look like country bumpkins."
"But we are country bumpkins," I whispered back, still trying to process the room's impossible geometry.
"Speak for yourself," he replied with a smirk, but I noticed his eyes were just as wide as mine.
We found spots about halfway up (or across, depending on your perspective) the sphere. As I settled into my seat, I felt a momentary vertigo as gravity shifted to anchor me in place. The sensation was disconcerting but not entirely unpleasant, like the moment before falling, stretched into stability.
"Is that…" I began, pointing to a spot that appeared to be directly "above" us, where a large desk seemed to be anchored to nothing.
"Professor Gravitas's podium? Yes," Finn confirmed. "He likes to make an entrance."
As if on cue, the arcane writings on the walls froze, then began flowing toward a single point on the sphere opposite the podium. The symbols condensed, darkened, and then collapsed inward like water down a drain. He was tall and imposing, with skin the color of burnished bronze and hair that seemed to be made of dark matter itself, absorbing light rather than reflecting it. His robes, deep purple with silver geometric patterns, hung perfectly despite the fact that he was, from my perspective, standing on what should have been a wall. As he moved toward his podium, I noticed that he didn't so much walk as proceed, each step measured with mathematical precision.
"Welcome," he said, his voice resonating throughout the sphere without seeming to raise its volume, "to Fundamental Arcane Theory."
He reached his podium and surveyed the class, his eyes lingering briefly on our blue-haired contingent. I could have sworn I saw the ghost of a smile, though it vanished so quickly I might have imagined it.
"For those who survived the trials," he continued, "congratulations. You have earned the right to be confused at a much higher level."
The air around him seemed to bend slightly, light curving as if drawn toward him. I realized with a start that this wasn't just a visual effect, the man was literally warping the space around himself.
"I am Professor Gravitas, the Personification of Gravity and Weight."
He waved a hand casually, and a three-dimensional model of the Academy materialized above the platform, rotating slowly.
"Before we begin, it is necessary to understand the structure of this institution. The Academy of Arcanis stands at the intersection of multiple realities, which allows for certain... unique staffing arrangements."
The model zoomed in on different sections as he spoke.
"Several key positions within the Academy are held by Personifications, embodiments of natural forces, concepts, or elements. I am one such being. Professor Zephyr, whom you've already met, is the Personification of Air and Chaos, heading the Faculty of Elemental Manipulation. Lady Althea oversees the Infirmary as the Personification of Vitality and Healing."
An image of the woman who had treated me appeared briefly, her hands glowing with restorative light.
"And of course, Headmistress Astra, the Personification of Celestial Order and Cosmic Balance, oversees us all."
The model shifted again, displaying various faculties.
"Not all positions are held by Personifications. Many of your instructors will be conventional mages of exceptional talent. We Personifications are tasked with maintaining the foundational aspects of the Academy, those areas where reality must be regularly negotiated."
He paused, his expression becoming even more serious, if that were possible.
"It is worth noting that this year is somewhat exceptional. For the first time in seventy-three years, we have admitted a student who is also a Personification."
A murmur rippled through the hall. I sat up straighter, suddenly very interested.
"As is tradition, this student was exempt from the entrance trials. After all, testing a Personification on magical aptitude would be redundant."
The murmur grew louder, taking on an edge of indignation. Next to me, Finn whispered, "Seriously? Someone got a free pass while we were fighting for our lives?"
Professor Gravitas raised a hand, and the weight of his gesture literally pushed the sound of our voices down, compressing the air until silence returned.
"Before you indulge in righteous outrage, remember that Personifications are not human mages who have achieved some elevated status. We are manifestations of fundamental aspects of reality. The trials would be meaningless for us, just as it would be meaningless to test whether water is wet."
He allowed that to sink in before continuing.
"The student in question is Liora, Personification of Fortune and Probability."
My heart stopped. Luck. The Personification of Luck was a student here. My mind raced with implications even as Professor Gravitas continued.
"Her presence here is... significant. Patterns suggest we are entering a period of flux, where probability itself may become unstable. Hence, her education has become a priority."
I felt a strange tingling sensation at the base of my skull, as if the mere mention of this Liora had somehow activated my own cursed luck.
"Now, to business."
The model of the Academy disappeared, replaced by complex formulae that began to orbit the professor.
"Today we begin with the fundamental principle of weight, not just physical mass, but the weight of intention, the gravity of will that allows magic to manifest from thou….."