The amphitheater buzzed as the crowd of students began to disperse, uniforms fluttering and boots clacking against the polished stone. Ajax lingered for a moment near the top row, watching the others trickle out into their respective lines.
Lyssa had already declared that she had "absolutely no idea where she was going," and so—naturally—decided to follow Ajax instead.
The path from the orientation dome to the dormitories wound through a high archway cut into the cliffside, flanked by luminescent vines which would shimmer with pale light. The corridor opened into a tiered residential plaza, where the various class towers rose like fingers from the stone. Ajax spotted the scout wing in the distance—sleek, straight architecture, spartan in detail compared to the ceremonial flair of the dueling halls.
Room 3-C was located in a narrow vertical spire near the outer ridge. They climbed in silence, Ajax leading the way with even steps, Lyssa behind him narrating her ascent with dramatic huffs.
"This school has so many stairs. Why are there so many stairs? Did someone design this place with legs as a personal vendetta?"
Ajax just laughed and continued walking.
She scampered after him.
The path curved sharply and opened into a narrow stone bridge suspended between ridges. Below, the lights of the lower campus flickered like a sea of stars. Ajax stopped briefly, hand resting on the railing, taking in the view.
"Pretty, huh?" Lyssa said, coming up beside him. "Kind of makes you forget we're here to be shaped into obedient instruments of the realm."
Ajax side-eyed her.
"I mean… politely shaped," she amended, grinning.
Their assigned dorm—Room 3-C—sat near the end of the topmost hall in the east tower. The door was engraved with a plain brass numberplate and opened with the soft click of Ajax's mana signature.
The room beyond was modest but clean. Two beds. Two wardrobes. One window with a slanted view of the upper ward banners. Faint red light spilled through it, casting angled shadows across the dark-stone floor.
"Oh, I like this," Lyssa declared instantly. "It's so dramatic. I feel like a tragic protagonist already."
She immediately dropped her bag on the bed nearest the window.
Ajax set his gear down more carefully and began arranging his notebooks on the desk between them.
Lyssa opened one of her drawers, found a single sock inside, and muttered, "Strange start, but I accept this challenge."
She flopped backward onto the mattress.
"Ajax, be honest—do you think I'm the 'model student' type or the 'accidentally sets something on fire' type?"
"You haven't set anything on fire yet," he said.
"Exactly. I'm breaking expectations already."
By midmorning, the academy's halls pulsed with the quiet murmur of new classes. Ajax found his way to the eastern wing, where a lecture room shaped like pentagon opened up before him. High on the rear wall, a massive etched map of the continent loomed—labeled with regions, cities, and border lines that shimmered faintly under mana-light.
The room slowly filled with students—some chatting, others staring ahead with academic intensity. A few wore robes of lineage colors—deep reds or greens—marking noble houses or gifted backgrounds.
Then came Lyssa.
She tripped through the doorway, caught herself, and marched to the desk beside Ajax like nothing had happened.
"Is this the map class? Please tell me this is the map class. Because if I'm in alchemy accidentally again, someone's getting a potion to the face. Probably mine."
"It's geography," Ajax said.
"Oh good. I love maps. I'm terrible at reading them, but I love them. They're like magic you can fold up. One time I read one upside down for a whole month and thought the world was shaped like a chicken wing."
Ajax looked ahead, genuinely surprised she made it into the academy.
The instructor—a woman in her sixties with silver-streaked hair and a robe marked with eight thin bands of merit—entered without announcement. She raised a single hand, and the noise ceased.
"Good. You're not completely undisciplined."
She tapped her staff once on the floor. The floor slates shimmered.
"I am Scholar-Tactician Elaira. This course will familiarize you with the geography, cities, leyline structure, and strategic regions of Cairn. You will not pass if you do not understand what Valern borders. Or what threatens it."
She gestured toward the shifting mural on the wall.
"This is Cairn. Not a myth. Not a battlefield. A land of consequence. You will learn the fault lines and strongholds. The mana plains and border threats. The trade rivers. The forgotten roads."
The image zoomed, focusing in on Vorthryn and its surrounding valleys. Ajax leaned forward slightly, absorbing it.
Elaira continued. "In war, a mile can mean a hundred lives. In peace, a road can feed ten cities. You will know these truths. You will memorize them."
A faint spark of admiration tugged at Ajax's focus. She wasn't wasting time.
Lyssa raised her hand.
"Will there be a test on rivers? Because I can never remember which way they flow."
Elaira blinked once. "They flow downhill."
"Oh. Right. Obviously."
Ajax scribbled a note in his notebook. Names. Locations. Distance markers. Rivers. Roads.
But one detail caught his eye—and held it.
Kaelridge. Mountain city. Trade hub. Center of the continent, part of the region that was Swartha. Once solely held by humanity. Now opened to all races besides demons.
He underlined it once.
To its south-east, and bordering Swartha, was Ajax's new home, Valern. This region covered less than ten percent of the continent, whereas Swartha covered a third, and had numerous cities throughout it. Back in Valern, Vorthyn was carved into Mount Vael'Zareth, which ran alongside the coast of the continent.
Ajax wrote this new information down.
Then the bell rang—soft, chiming.
Class dismissed.
The mess hall of Verathis was vast and echoing—rows of steelwood tables arranged beneath vaulted ceilings, where soft violet mana-braziers cast flickering light across the dusk-filled windows. Students clustered by affinity: red for conjurers, blue for augmenters, a few purple uniforms for the hybrid casters, black for scouts, and gray for theory.
Ajax moved through the room without ceremony, tray in hand. He scanned the crowd once, then made for a quiet table near the far wall.
He'd just started on his meal when—
Clatter.
A tray slammed down across from him, followed by Lyssa flopping into the bench with dramatic exhaustion.
"Dinner," she gasped. "Finally. I almost perished on the walk over. If I had to listen to one more first-year explain their bloodline affinity, I was going to fake a seizure."
Ajax gave her a sideways glance, unimpressed, then sighed deeply.
She didn't miss it. "Oh come on. You missed me. Admit it."
"I didn't."
"That's fine," she said, stabbing a potato like it had personally wronged her. "I'll carry the emotional weight of our friendship."
He took a slow bite, then replied dryly, "Friendship?"
"Don't act like we're not in the same boat. Roommates. Classmates. Life-mates—academically speaking."
He paused mid-chew, debating whether or not to respond to that.
She beamed anyway, already plowing ahead. "Besides, I've decided we have a dynamic. You're the broody, mysterious prodigy with secrets and dangerous eyes. I'm the lovable, chaos-fueled social glue that keeps you from brooding into oblivion."
Ajax finally gave the smallest of smiles. "Dangerous eyes?"
"Yes. Very haunted. Very 'I have nightmares and a tragic past.' Very marketable."
"You're insane."
"Debatable. You think anyone would notice if I ate a second tray of food and pretended it was for a ghost twin?"
Ajax shook his head—but the smile didn't fade.
They ate for a few moments in relative quiet, Lyssa humming some tune Ajax didn't recognize.
Then she leaned forward, eyeing him with mock suspicion. "So. What were you scribbling in class?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You were watching?"
"Please. You draw like you're fighting the paper. What were those spirals?"
"Nothing."
"Mysterious," she said, wagging her fork. "Which, by the way, is only making my theories more unhinged. I now have three potential explanations, and two involve curses."
Ajax didn't answer—but her ridiculousness was harder to tune out this time.
She sat back with a satisfied sigh. "You know… this school's not so bad with you around. You give it an air of smoldering drama. Like we're about to uncover a conspiracy."
He finished his food and stood, grabbing his tray.
She hopped up to follow. "Wait up—room 3-C, remember? I have zero sense of direction and the last time I walked alone I ended up in a storage closet. With a broom. His name is Greg now."
Ajax stopped just short of laughing.
But a short breath left him, light.
He held the door open.
Lyssa blinked. "Chivalry. I'm swooning."
"Let's just go," Ajax replied—but this time, there was warmth in his voice. "You just remind me of someone I used to know, that's all."