The morning sun streamed through the blue curtains of Logan's dormitory, creating golden patterns on the polished wooden floor. He opened his eyes slowly, feeling that familiar mix of anxiety and excitement that accompanied the first day of classes.
For a moment, he lay there observing the ceiling, where small magical constellations shone softly—a personalized touch his room had developed overnight, apparently responding to his fascination with the night sky.
"First day," he murmured to himself, running a hand through his disheveled red merle hair. "Let's see what Aldaria has to offer."
Logan got up and picked up his uniform, which was carefully folded on the chair—navy-blue trousers, a white long-sleeved shirt, and a blue vest with the Academy emblem embroidered in silver. He dressed quickly, adjusting the vest and fastening the brooch with the Black family symbol to his lapel—a small concession to his status, permitted by Academy protocol.
While arranging his materials in his leather bag, his fingers touched a small circular object. The ring the Ancestral Qilin had given him before he left Xian'Lin—a simple silver ring with ancient runes engraved on its surface. "To help with control," the Qilin had said. Logan placed it on the middle finger of his right hand, feeling the cold metal against his skin and the faint tingling of ancient magic.
After checking his materials one last time—books, scrolls, quills, and inkwells—Logan left the room, locking the door with the crystal key.
The dormitory corridor was bustling with other hurrying students, some looking as anxious as he felt, others with the confidence of upperclassmen.
At the main entrance of the dormitory, Kassia and Blake were waiting for him. Blake wore the same uniform as Logan, though his had ice-blue details representing his elven lineage. Kassia wore the female version—a knee-length navy-blue pleated skirt, white socks, and the same vest with the Academy emblem.
"Finally!" Blake exclaimed with a teasing smile. "I thought we'd have to drag you out of bed."
"Some of us actually need sleep, Blake," Logan replied, returning the smile. "Not all of us have infinite energy."
Kassia rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips. "If you two are finished, could we perhaps go to class?" she suggested, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "History of Magic is in the Ancestral Hall, on the other side of campus. And I'd rather not be late on the first day."
"Yes, ma'am," Logan replied, giving an exaggerated bow that drew a laugh from Blake.
The Aldaria Academy campus stretched out before them, a labyrinth of elegant buildings, well-kept gardens, and magical fountains. Students of all ages and races hurried past, some alone, others in groups, all wearing the blue Academy uniform, albeit with slight variations indicating their origins.
"So, History of Magic," Blake commented as they walked. "I hear Professor Nyrel is quite… eccentric." "Eccentric how?" Logan asked curiously. "They say he's lived in every known realm," Kassia replied. "And that he knows more dead languages than living ones. Some even whisper he's much older than he appears."
"Well, we'll find out soon," Logan said, as they approached the imposing Ancestral Hall, a majestic octagonal structure whose walls seemed made of ancient stone, each facet reflecting the sunlight in thousands of hypnotic patterns.
The Ancestral Hall was even more impressive inside. The vaulted ceiling was supported by columns that seemed to grow from the floor itself, carved to resemble ancient trees with glowing runes etched into their trunks. The walls, though plain on the outside, displayed moving images within—scenes of great historical moments in magic, epic battles between Arcane Beasts, revolutionary discoveries, and ancient pacts, all flowing smoothly from one image to another like living memories. The classroom proper was circular, with rows of desks and chairs arranged in ascending semicircles, like an amphitheater. In the center was an elevated platform with a table carved with the symbols of the Six Arcane Beasts and a floating magic board that pulsed softly, as if breathing with the very energy of the history about to be taught.
Logan, Blake, and Kassia found seats in the third row, close enough to see well, but not so close as to attract unnecessary attention. The room filled quickly with students from diverse backgrounds. Logan noticed a group of students with Eryndark brooches sitting on the opposite side of the room, deliberately keeping their distance from the Sky Reaper and Frostgard students.
When the clock struck exactly eight, the hall doors clicked softly shut, and an expectant silence fell over the students. Seconds later, a figure emerged from a side door, walking with deliberately slow steps to the central platform.
Professor Nyrel was an impressive sight—a centaur with a coat as black as night, his human torso covered in a dark blue tunic embroidered with constellations that seemed to move subtly. His face was angular, with prominent cheekbones and eyes of such an intense green they seemed to glow with their own light. Silver hair cascaded to his shoulders, partially held back in complex braids adorned with small crystals. His age was impossible to determine—he could have been forty or four hundred.
"Good morning, young minds," he said, his deep, melodious voice echoing through the hall. "I am Professor Nyrel, and for this year, I shall be your guide through the complexities of the History of Magic."
He paused, his green eyes scanning the room, seeming to assess each student individually. "Before we begin, allow me to clarify something: here, you are merely students—apprentices of arcane knowledge that transcends political borders and petty rivalries." His gaze paused momentarily on the Eryndark group, then on the students from Sky Reaper and Frostgard. "Understood?"
A murmur of assent went through the room.
"Excellent," he continued with a slight smile. "Now, let us go to the beginning of everything. Who can tell me how the world began?"
Silence reigned for a few seconds, until a hesitant hand was raised. It was a girl from Frostgard, with snow-white hair and ice-blue eyes. "Yes, Miss…?" "Lyra Frostwind, Professor," she replied. "In Frostgard, we learn that in the beginning, there was only the Void, until the Six Ancestral Arcane Beasts emerged and began to shape the world."
Professor Nyrel nodded encouragingly. "An interesting perspective. Please, continue."
"Each Arcane Beast contributed an aspect of creation," Lyra explained. "Leviathan created the oceans and all the world's water. Fenrir brought the night and shadows. Ignis forged the fire and the sun's heat. The Qilin brought light and harmony. The Phoenix created the air and winds. And the Griffin established the laws of nature and the balance between all things."
"Very good, Miss Frostwind," said Professor Nyrel. "An eloquent version of creation according to Frostgard." He looked at the class again. "Does anyone have a different version?"
Kassia raised her hand, and the professor nodded for her to speak. "Kassia Grey, from Sky Reaper, Professor," she introduced herself. "In our tradition, we believe that before the Six Arcane Beasts, there was the First Beast, the Mother of All. It was she who created the Six Beasts, and together, they shaped the world. But the First Beast eventually turned against her own creation, wishing to destroy everything to start over. The Six Beasts united to seal her in the Void between worlds, and then continued their work of creation and protection."
Professor Nyrel seemed genuinely interested. "A fascinating addition to the narrative. The First Beast… an element many cultures omit or modify."
Other hands rose around the room, and the professor allowed several students to share the versions from their home kingdoms. Each story had its peculiarities, but all revolved around the Arcane Beasts as creative or transformative forces.
Then, a hand rose from the Eryndark students' side. It belonged to a severe-looking young man with black hair cut close to the scalp and eyes as cold gray as steel. His posture was rigid, almost military. "Yes, Mister…?" "Marcus Steelheart, from Eryndark, Professor," he said, his voice clear and confident. "In our kingdom, the story is told quite differently. We believe the world was created perfect by divine forces beyond our comprehension. The so-called 'Arcane Beasts' were not creators, but invaders—primordial monsters that arrived from other planes of existence and brought chaos, destruction, and corruption to the perfect world."
A murmur of disapproval ran through the students from Sky Reaper and Frostgard.
"According to our historians," Marcus continued, ignoring the reaction, "it was humans, especially those with pure blood uncontaminated by bestial influences, who fought against these creatures and forced them to retreat. The Arcane Beasts are the source of all evil and corruption in the world, and those who worship them or seek their power are doomed to repeat their destructive mistakes."
Kassia couldn't contain her indignation. "That's absurd!" she exclaimed, standing up. "The Arcane Beasts are the guardians of cosmic balance! Without them, there would be no life, no magic, no…"
"Typical of someone from Sky Reaper," Marcus interrupted with a disdainful smile. "A kingdom that floats thanks to power stolen from creatures that should remain sealed. You are all so blinded by your own arrogance you can't see the corruption in your own veins."
The room erupted into heated voices, with students from various kingdoms defending their versions of history and attacking others. Logan, realizing the situation was getting out of control, placed a hand on Kassia's shoulder. "Kassia, it's not worth it," he said in a low voice. "Thank you for defending our tradition, but they aren't going to change their minds, just like we won't change ours."
Kassia looked at him, still furious, but nodded reluctantly and sat back down.
"SILENCE!" Professor Nyrel's voice thundered through the room, magically amplified, making the crystals on the walls vibrate. The effect was instantaneous—all students fell silent and returned to their seats.
"This is precisely why this class is so important," he said, his voice now normal but still carrying authority. "History is not an absolute truth, but a narrative constructed over generations, filtered through cultural, political, and religious perspectives."
He walked through the center of the room, his hooves making a rhythmic sound against the marble floor. "All the versions we heard today share common elements—the Arcane Beasts, the creation of the world, the primordial conflict. The differences lie in the interpretation of these elements, the role assigned to each figure, the moral values associated with their actions."
The professor made a sweeping gesture, and the magic board behind him lit up, showing images of the Six Arcane Beasts. "As historians and mages, our duty is not to determine which version is 'correct,' but to understand how these narratives shaped the societies that created them, and how they continue to influence the current magical world."
He looked directly at Kassia and Marcus. "Miss Grey, Mister Steelheart, you both defended your traditions with passion, and that is admirable. But true wisdom comes from the ability to listen to other perspectives without losing one's own."
Both students nodded, though they still exchanged hostile glances.
"Now," Professor Nyrel continued, changing his tone, "let us speak of something more tangible and less subject to interpretation: mana."
The professor walked to the center of the circular room lined with arcane crystals and began: "First survival lesson at Aldaria: everything you do with magic is born from mana."
He lifted a stone and made it levitate with a snap of his fingers. A bluish aura enveloped the object. "Mana is the world's vital essence. It is in you, in plants, in beasts, even in sunlight. And it can be used in two distinct ways: as Magic or as an Ability."
He traced a circle in the air with his fingertips, which transformed into a floating arcane diagram with two columns: "When we project mana, we are using Magic. This creates effects on the environment:
Saying no more, the professor continued the explanation. Logan, silently, discreetly brought a hand to the ring given by the Qilin, feeling the calm, steady presence of the object that helped him maintain control.
"With time, you will learn to master both. But remember: a warrior who only projects is weak up close. One who only channels is blind from afar."
The professor made another gesture, and the diagram changed, now showing a scale with letters from E to S. "Throughout history, mages developed systems to classify magical power. The most used today is the Arcane Scale, ranging from E to S. This classification, however, measures only raw magical power, not skill or combat effectiveness."
He pointed to each level of the scale, which lit up as it was mentioned. "Rank E represents common living beings, possessing just enough to manifest a basic ability after the Awakening—usually something useful for daily life, like lighting a fire or purifying water."
"Rank D encompasses common soldiers, warriors, and mercenaries—individuals with enough training to use magic in combat, but without major achievements."
"Rank C covers competent mages, high-ranking military officers, and specialists in specific magical fields. Most of the professors at this Academy are at this level."
"Rank B includes exceptional mages, elite commanders, and individuals with rare or unique talents. Many leaders of magical guilds and royal advisors fall into this category."
"Rank A is reserved for the truly extraordinary—archmages, generals, individuals whose names are known beyond their kingdom's borders. One in a thousand mages reaches this level."
The professor paused, his green eyes shining intensely. "And finally, Rank S. The transcendent ones. Those whose power defies common understanding. So rare we can count on our fingers how many currently exist on our continent. Kings and queens of great power, lesser Arcane Beasts, beings who have shaped history by their mere existence."
He closed the diagram with a smooth motion. "There are those who surpass even Rank S—like the Ancestral Arcane Beasts, primordial beings whose power is so vast it cannot be measured by our limited scales. But these are so rare and distant from our everyday reality they have become almost mythological."
The professor smiled slightly. "It is important to note that power does not determine destiny or purpose. A Rank S individual might choose to be a simple baker or farmer, avoiding conflict and living in peace. Such cases are rare, but they exist. Similarly, a Rank C warrior with superior strategy and determination can defeat a Rank B opponent who is arrogant or careless."
A murmur of interest went through the room. The students were clearly fascinated by the possibility of discovering their own levels and potential.
"During your time at Aldaria," Professor Nyrel continued, "you will be evaluated and ranked. But remember: a rank is just a number, an artificial measure. A mage's true worth lies in how they utilize their power, not in how much power they possess."
The professor glanced at the clock in the corner of the room. "Our time is nearly up for today. For the next class, I want each of you to research how magic was practiced in your home kingdom one hundred years ago, and how that has changed to the present day. Be prepared to share your findings."
When the clock marked the end of the class, the students began gathering their materials, excitedly discussing what they had learned. Logan, Blake, and Kassia remained seated for a moment, absorbing everything.
"That was… intense," Blake commented, putting away his notes. "Especially the part about the ranks," Kassia agreed. "I wonder what rank we'll be after training here."
Logan was about to reply when he noticed Professor Nyrel looking directly at him. For a brief moment, the centaur's green eyes seemed to shine with ancient knowledge, as if he could see past Logan's appearance, straight to the connection with Fenrir he tried to hide. "Mister Black," the professor called, gesturing for Logan to approach. "A moment, please."
Logan exchanged a quick glance with Blake and Kassia. "Go on ahead," he said. "I'll meet you in the dining hall." As his friends left with the other students, Logan approached the platform where Professor Nyrel was organizing some scrolls.
"Yes, Professor?"
The centaur studied him for a long moment before speaking, his voice too low for others to hear. "There are many kinds of power in this world, Mister Black. Some are gained through study and practice. Others are inherited, passed down through blood or…" he paused significantly, "…through deeper connections."
Logan felt a chill down his spine. Did the professor know about Fenrir? "I don't know what you're talking about, sir," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.
Professor Nyrel smiled, a smile that didn't reach his piercing eyes. "Of course you don't. But know that at Aldaria, secrets have a peculiar way of revealing themselves, sooner or later. And when yours comes to light, Mister Black, I hope you are prepared for the consequences." He handed Logan a small book bound in black leather, with no title or markings. "Supplementary reading. I believe you will find it… enlightening."
Logan took the book, feeling a faint tingling of ancient magic emanating from its pages. "Thank you, Professor," he said hesitantly.
"Don't thank me yet, Mister Black," Professor Nyrel replied, his tone enigmatic. "True gratitude comes with understanding, and that is yet to come."
With a nod, the professor dismissed Logan, who left the room with the mysterious book held securely in his hands and a thousand questions swirling in his mind.
As he walked through the Academy corridors, Logan couldn't stop thinking about the professor's words. How did he know? What else did he know? And what did that book contain, now weighing in his bag like a promise—or perhaps a threat? The first day of classes had barely begun, and Logan already felt that Aldaria held far more secrets and dangers than he could have imagined. With a determined sigh, he headed towards the dining hall, where Blake and Kassia awaited him, ready to share their impressions of the first class.