Year XX16, July 03rd – Ashram City.
Tuesday, 6:34 PM
"Look, I told you, kid, the headmaster is away from his mansion." Two guards crossed their spears precisely, their polished armor gleaming in the afternoon sun as they blocked the ornate entrance to the massive, luxurious estate. The huge ironwood doors behind them were carved with intricate magical sigils that seemed to pulse with a faint blue light.
"And he won't be back for who knows…maybe weeks." The other guard scratched his head.
"B-But sir, I have come from a faraway place on his personal invitation—you see this scroll?" The young man thrust forward a yellowed parchment, its edges frayed from travel and bearing an official wax seal that had seen better days. The document trembled slightly in his rough and muscular hands.
A boy stood before the guards, his black hair disheveled from days of travel, his brown traveling cloak stained with mud and dust from the road. At such a young age, he had the lean build of someone accustomed to hardship, though his eyes held a sharp intelligence that his rough appearance might disguise. The guards, however, saw the seventh vagrant of the day trying to con his way into the prestigious grounds.
The first guard barely glanced at the scroll. "Fake documents are a copper a dozen around these days, boy. Move along before we have to make you move."
Boy's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice level. "This isn't fake. Please check the seal—it bears the headmaster's personal mark."
"I said, move along." The guard's grip shifted on his spear as he squinted his eyes, a clear threat.
For a moment, Karma's eyes flashed with something dangerous; his hand instinctively moved under his robe. Then he caught himself and forced his shoulders to relax. Getting arrested now wouldn't solve anything. "Fine. But when your precious headmaster returns, tell him that Karma was here..." He blew out a tired sigh as he turned away, tucking the scroll back into his cloak with deliberate care.
The guards exchanged uncertain glances as he walked away, but their pride kept them from calling him back.
Well, that went about as expected, Karma thought, making his way down the cobblestone street that led from the mansion district into the city of Ashram. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows between the towering spires and elaborate architecture that marked this as one of the world's most prosperous centers.
( My name is Karma. I'm somewhere around eighteen or...nineteen years old—well, I stopped counting after the orphanage burned down. Yeah!! I am an orphan. My childhood was not so great, or you can say it couldn't have been any worse. 4 years ago, I started living with two elderly people in a border town. But two months ago, I met an old mage, A Sham, who claimed he knows about my past and is a friend of my parents; he said he could get me into the most prestigious academy in the known world. Arcane Academy, which has produced more heroes and rulers than any other institution. It's where dreams come true... if you can afford the entry fee that costs more than most people see in a lifetime.
"After all, money is life, and life is money." An annoyed expression spread on his brown and tired face.
Karma, strolling around aimlessly, found himself near the merchant quarter as the sun began to set, the smell of roasted meats and exotic spices making his empty stomach clench painfully. He'd eaten nothing but stale bread and stream water for the past three days.
He slumped against a stone fountain carved in the shape of a phoenix, its crystal-clear water bubbling up from the creature's beak. Around him, wealthy merchants and academy students in fine robes moved through the evening crowd, none sparing a glance for another travel-worn vagrant.
"Ahh!!!" "Should've known better than to trust some random mage offering 'opportunities,'" he muttered, running a hand through his hair. But even as he said it, he couldn't quite bring himself to regret the journey. Staying in that dead-end village would have meant a lifetime of scraping by as a farmhand or laborer. At least here, in this city of magic and learning, there might be... possibilities.
Grrrr… His stomach growled loudly enough to echo off the fountain's stone base.
"Right. First priority: food. Everything else can wait." He pushed himself to his feet and began methodically checking his pockets and travel pack. A few copper buttons that might be worth something… Maybe a spare shirt that was more holes than fabric, and... dirt. Lots of dirt.
"Fantastic, f*ck," he said flatly, not bothering with self-pity. He'd been poor before; he'd figure something out.
"Oh stars and spirits!! Mercy!" He rubbed his hands and cried while raising his hands towards the sky. He is a religious person who believes in miracles
Clink!! Clink…clink.
As if summoned by his thoughts, two copper coins came clattering across the cobblestones.
"Huh?!" He himself was shocked; his eyes widened with surprise. Karma snatched up the coins without hesitation—maybe stars are too benevolent with him. As much as even he never imagined.
Two coppers wouldn't buy much, but it would buy something. So he leapt towards the nearest store.
A fish vendor's stall was wedged between a spice merchant and a bookbinder, the owner just beginning to pack up for the evening. What remained of his stock looked like it had seen many days, but Karma's standards weren't high.
"What can I get for two coppers?" he asked.
The vendor looked him up and down, taking in the travel-stained clothes and lean face.
"Salt-cured mackerel. Day-old, but still good. Comes with lemon and pepper sauce." vendor offered.
"Deal," he agreed…instantly. Karma becomes stupid when he is hungry.
"It hooks, sho Delhisus, slurp."
The fish was smaller than Karma would have preferred, a smoked, salty fish dipped in lemon juice and hot sauce, marinated and smoked with utmost care. Its aroma was enough to double his hunger.
He found a quiet spot on the steps of a closed shop and settled down to enjoy what might be his only real meal in the coming days.
Gulp… The first bite was heaven—salty, smoky, with just enough spice to warm his throat. His eyes closed down, savoring the taste and the feeling of actual food in his stomach.
But when he opened them, the fish was gone.
For a moment, Karma just stared at his empty hands, his brain struggling to process what had happened. Then he caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye—a small, sleek shape darting between the market stalls with something hanging from its mouth.
"A cat!!" he said slowly. Then, louder: "A DAMN CAT!"
The black feline paused at the mouth of an alley, dual-colored eyes glinting in the lamplight as it looked back at him. For just a moment, Karma could swear the creature looked smug. Then it turned and vanished into the shadows.
Karma was on his feet and running before conscious thought caught up with action.
The cat was fast, but Karma didn't just spend his childhood chasing chickens.
The feline darted between market stalls, under vendor carts, and around the legs of startled pedestrians. Karma followed, vaulting over a low fence, sliding under a merchant's display table, and spinning around a lamppost without losing momentum.
"Get back here, you furry thief!" he shouted, drawing curious stares from evening shoppers.
The cat reached the end of the market square and leaped onto a low rooftop with fluid grace. For a moment, Karma thought he'd lost it—then he spotted a wooden crate stacked against the building's wall.
He hit the crate at a run, using it as a springboard to launch himself upward. His fingers caught the roof's edge, and he hauled himself up with the strength born of years of manual labor.
The cat was already moving but sped up as it felt a tail behind it, racing across the terracotta tiles with surefooted confidence.
Roof to roof they ran, the city spreading out below them in a maze of glowing windows and narrow streets. The cat leaped between buildings with effortless grace, but Karma matched it jump for jump, his longer legs giving him an advantage on the straight runs.
They raced across the peaked roof of what looked like a guild hall, slid down the curved dome of a temple to some foreign god, and bounded across the flat roof of a warehouse where dockworkers were still loading cargo by lamplight.
The cat tried every trick—doubling back, changing direction mid-leap, even running straight up a bell tower's side using some supernatural grip. But Karma stayed with it, driven by a combination of hunger, stubbornness, and the simple refusal to be beaten by a house cat. It's a fish-or-death situation now.
Finally, after what felt like hours of pursuit, that poor little kitty is now tired of running, losing its breath, and its heart is beating like a train engine; its body has finally lost the steam.
And when it reached the sloped glass roof, it stumbled on the landing and rolled; the stolen fish slipped from its jaw and now barely hangs at the edge of the roof.
Huff…Huff…huff
The cat struggled to its feet, sides heaving with exhaustion. Raising its head, it looked at the still fish lying a few steps away from it. It stretched a paw to reach it, but still, it needs to drag itself to reach there. It pushed its small, broken body, leaving a trail of sweat. Like a snail.
This is tonight's dinner for her and her babies, who are waiting at home, starving and calling for her. It gathered a little bit of strength and pushed itself towards the edge.
Fuss…step…tap.
"Finally," Karma Landed said, pulling himself up onto the glass roof with shaking arms. His own chest was burning from the extended chase, sweat stinging his eyes despite the cool night air. "Thought... you could outrun me... did you, little twerp?"
The cat backed away as he approached, but there was nowhere to go—behind her was a sheer drop to the street below.
Karma reached for the fish, then paused. The moonlight caught the cat's eyes, and he saw something there that made him hesitate. Not just fear, but... resignation. The look of someone—something—that had fought as hard as it could and knew it was over.
Reminds me of myself, he thought, and immediately pushed the sentiment away. Sentiment didn't fill empty stomachs.
"Look, nothing personal," he said, stretching toward the fish. "But I paid for this, and I—"
Crack.
The sound was soft but unmistakably ominous. Karma looked down and saw a spiderweb of fractures spreading across the glass beneath his feet.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
The cat's eyes seemed to glitter with what might have been amusement.
CRACKLE.
The world exploded into falling glass and rushing air. Karma had just enough time to think. That damn cat planned this before he hit the floor of the glass structure below in a shower of crystal shards and tropical plant debris.
Cat: 1, Karma: 0.
And somewhere in the darkness above, a small black shape delicately picked up a slightly battered fish and disappeared into the night.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Year XX16, July 03rd, Ashram City.
Tuesday, 02:47 PM
The classroom stretched like a theater of learning, rows of wooden auditorium seats climbing toward high windows where afternoon light filtered through flowing curtains. The hallway beyond remained silent—peak hours meant every young soul was trapped in their respective lessons, the only sounds being the steady drone of Professor Patterik's voice and the rhythmic click-clack of chalk against blackboard.
"As we know of the Sundering Wars, which ended four centuries ago..." Professor Patterik's voice carried no emotion, worn smooth by countless repetitions of the same lecture. His hand moved mechanically across the board, white dust settling on his dark robes. "Our ancestors turned against one another. People fought people, one element against another element."
He paused, not bothering to turn toward his audience. "The war was cruel and chaotic. People died. People killed. A conflict that raged for one hundred and forty years, consuming entire generations, spilling rivers of blood daily." His voice grew quieter, more tired. "Those people lost their humanity and descended into unspeakable deeds."
The professor's chalk stopped moving. "Eventually, there came a day when every nation lost all men over the age of twelve. Urza's density declined from the use of world-shaking elemental weapons, and then war ground to a halt. Power fell to the wiser and kinder queens, and so the world chose coexistence." He let out a long sigh, finally turning to survey his classroom. "Queens of each nation forged a pact, though peace proved temporary. New wars were brewing, and the anger in each heart had not yet cooled." Patterik continued the storytelling.
His students had already surrendered to boredom's embrace. Some slumped half-asleep in their seats; others had quietly slipped away entirely. A red-haired girl with twin braids snored softly against her desk, unsuited to a lady. Near the window, one student attempted an escape, only to lose his nerve and tumble back inside with a muffled thud.
Professor Patterik's half-lidded eyes showed no reaction—he'd grown accustomed to such disinterest in history. His gaze swept across the sea of lazy, unengaged faces until it found a pair of topaz-blue eyes fixed intently on him. A girl with azure hair and delicate spectacles, her attention unwavering.
A rare smile creased the professor's weary features. He continued with renewed energy.
"To maintain this peace, an Equilibrium Council was established. A governing body with authority to manage and administer every force across all nations and empires, comprised of high nobles and elected representatives from each realm—individuals with genuine influence in their homelands. This council provides a stage for dialogue while preventing direct violent action."
He gestured toward the elaborate emblem hanging behind him—the seal of the Arcane Academy. Pride, or perhaps excitement, flickered across his weathered face.
"Two centuries ago, this council devised a program to reduce hostilities by gathering all future rulers and administrators from every nation on this continent, educating them within the same institution. They would live, eat, sleep, and grow under one roof. Thus was born the Arcane Academy." His arms raised high and wide with a sudden burst of dopamine.
Cough, cough. He cleared his throat and returned to his usual demeanor.
"This academy draws students and instructors from across the continent, combining knowledge and skills from every civilization, evolving and revolutionizing wisdom itself. The academy operates under three inviolable principles:
Rule One: Every offspring of royal blood, aristocracy, and government officials will and must attend the Arcane Academy.
Rule Two: No influence or privileges related to any nation hold weight within academy walls.
Rule Three: Students and staff must accept and follow each rule without defiance. Hostilities on academy grounds are intolerable.
"Now, let us discuss the academy's historical executives and their—"
RIIIIING!
The bell's shrill cry brought the half-dead students back to life. Some literally leaped from their seats, shouting prayers of freedom. The wind of life has passed through the cemetery
THUD…THUD… "Tomorrow brings examinations," Professor Patterik petted the table with Duster and announced, closing his book and gathering his materials. The proclamation landed like a bomb on the briefly liberated students.
Students poured from classrooms as the sun hung low, painting the sky in deep crimson hues. The academy's silence shattered beneath youthful chatter and excited shouts about evening plans. Some mentioned a newly opened noodle shop near the train station; others headed for their dormitories to rest before dinner. A few made their way toward the gymnasium or training grounds, determined to sculpt their bodies into peak condition.
"Ahhhh!" A red-haired student with disheveled twin braids stretched her arms wide, yawning dramatically. Her uniform looked like she'd rolled out of bed, her eyes puffy from sleep. "That Snorlax nearly drained my life force."
"Snorlax?" A black-haired beauty walked beside her, curiosity lighting her features as she smoothed her bangs. Her generous curves swayed with each step, drawing appreciative glances from passing students. "You mean Professor Patterik? Is that really his nickname?"
"Yeah, Professor Patterik," the redhead—Mona—confirmed, dragging her feet. "His lessons are soul-crushing. He's like a vampire, sucking away my will to live." She pulled her lips back with her fingers, baring her teeth like fangs, and lunged at Neena's chest. "Neena, give me your blood!"
"Ahhh! Mona, stop!" Neena giggled as her friend's playful assault tickled her sensitive spots. "What are you doing? Stop it!"
"Muhahhah… Blood!! Blood!!"
The two beauties tumbled to the ground, Neena struggling to push away Mona, who was gleefully groping her chest out of jealousy and mischief. Their impromptu wrestling match drew an audience of satisfied, aroused male students.
Step... step.
A pair of elegant feet stopped beside the tussling girls. "Mona, Neena... what are you doing in the middle of the street?" The voice was soft yet dignified, accompanied by the sharp tap of heels seeking attention.
Neena, lying on her back, raised her head to examine the newcomer from heel to face. Her eyes widened, and she froze for a moment. "Whoa! Mona, stop—STOP!" She kicked the frenzied Mona in the stomach, launching her skyward, then instantly dropped to her knees in a formal bow, one hand pressed to her chest.
"Princess, you honor us with your presence. I was... waiting for you here. Forgive me that you must witness such vulgarity." Her fair cheeks flushed crimson with shame.
The Tomboy Mona, who had been airborne moments before, crashed face-first into the ground. "Aargh…ouchhh, it hurts—it hurts!" She writhed in the dust like a wounded worm.
"Mona, are you hurt?" The princess—Liana—in genuine worry instantly ran towards the fallen wor-m-ona and bent to tend her. "Are you alright—"
"NO! Princess Liana, don't go near that fool, she's—" Neena's warning came too late.
Mona's eyes glinted with mischief. Perfect.
"Hehe... now it's your turn, Lia!" She grabbed the princess and pulled her down, attempting the same chest-groping assault she'd inflicted on Neena.
Liana Mia Frozenite found herself pinned to the dusty ground, unprepared for such a sudden attack. In moments like these, when the mind blanks and reflexes take over, the body uses any means necessary for protection.
"No—get away!" Her guard dropped completely. She swung her arm in pure reflex, releasing a vast circulation of Urza energy. A tremendous gust of wind erupted from her position, striking the lecherous beast with extreme force and launching Mona across the courtyard. She bounced, spun, and skidded through a nearby puddle fifteen times like a skipping stone before finally coming to rest.
The dispersing gust pushed back the gathered crowd and lifted many nearby skirts in its wake.
Liana lay on the ground, arms raised toward the sky, her sky-blue hair now matted with mud and dust. Her clothes were ruined, but even covered in grime, she maintained an ethereal beauty—like a lotus blooming in a swamp. Her fair skin remained pure as snow, almost translucent.
Neena, having been pushed back by the wind, rushed to her side immediately. "Princess, are you injured? Oh no, you're covered in mud! What should we do?" She helped Liana to her feet, her usual composure completely shattered by worry.
"Neena, calm yourself," Liana steadied herself against her friend's shoulder. "I'm fine. We need to check on Mona first."
"R-right." Neena glanced toward the mud-marinated Mona, who lay half-conscious and moaning in the puddle. Neena gave a signal to nearby classmates
Several students Pulled Mona out and rushed toward the infirmary. Liana follows behind them in grave worry.
Before following, Neena paused to carefully examine the area where Liana's Urza had manifested.
The weather was already chilled from earlier rain, made cooler by the wind, but this particular spot felt frigid. Tiny raindrops on the garden grass had frozen solid, and close inspection revealed the wet ground bore a skin of powdery ice.
"Phew..." Neena breathed in relief. "It could have been much worse." She muttered before dashing after the others.
After Mona's treatment, the trio finally left the infirmary as the sun settled behind distant mountains.
"Hooooo! I'm alive again!" Mona bounced like a rabbit as they passed through the academy gates.
Behind her, Liana and Neena looked exhausted and slumped.
"How do you still have so much energy after two healing sessions?" Liana complained.
"Exactly!" Neena glared at the airheaded Mona. "Healing Urza accelerates recovery by consuming the body's stamina. These earth-type barbarians..." She decided to be blunt. "She should have at least two broken ribs, but look at her—not even a scratch."
As an Earth Mage, Mona possessed the ability to mimic the properties of any sand or rock and apply them to her body. She could become as hard as titanium or as soft as clay at will.
"Mona, I—I must apologize," Liana said, her voice heavy with guilt. "I lost control again and attacked you. Please, allow me to make amends."
Liana understood the intensity her attack had carried. Had it been anyone other than Mona, the injuries could have been critical.
The Mon-a-bbit jumped towards the apologetic pearl beauty, whose expression of remorse was something she'd never seen before—though Liana remained dazzling even in distress. Mona embraced her warmly. "Aww, Lia, no problem! It was my fault. I'm sorry too."
The two stood hand-in-hand, their bond strengthened by forgiveness.
Neena stood apart, watching. Her eyes betrayed the jealousy she felt toward their easy friendship.
She inserted herself between them, dragging Mona by the collar. "Now then, enough bonding for today. We have a more pressing issue to address."
"Pressing issue?" both girls asked.
"Yes, Princess Liana. We're completely disheveled, our uniforms ruined thanks to someone's prank." Neena's pointed glance fell on Mona.
"Hehehe..."
"We need to wash and change, or it won't reflect well on your reputation."
"Hmm..." Liana examined her clothes; her clothes and hair were full of mud and soot, and she smelled like a gutter. "You are right, Neena. We cannot return to the dormitory in this condition."
"Then I have a suggestion." Neena pointed toward a glass-roofed building illuminated by warm yellow lights, a large chimney releasing aromatic steam. "Let's visit the new sauna down the street."
"Sau-nah?!" The word was foreign to Liana. "What is that?"
"Well," Neena explained, "merchants from Aquatica have introduced a healthy bathing technique using hot water and steam from underground springs, mixed with various potions and herbs. It's become quite popular with women nowadays—it heals and warms the body. And also softens the skin. That's what I heard..."
"We absolutely must try it!" Mona's excitement was infectious, and both friends knew it was unstoppable.
She dragged Liana by the hand while pushing Neena from behind as they headed down the street toward the double-story structure of tinted glass. The large chimney released streams of aromatic smoke, and despite the dark emissions, the air filled with a variety of pleasant scents and burning lumber.
As the glass doors opened, waves of heat and flowery medicinal fragrances burst forth.
Neena took the lead, guiding them inside with the confidence of someone familiar with the establishment. She might have visited secretly before.
Inside, a pair of attendants greeted them at the reception—tall figures in elegant three-piece suits of sheer, dew-like silk. Their faces remained hidden behind sophisticated glass masks that seemed to shape the steam around them, leaving their voices honeyed and echoing.
The attendants guided the ladies to shower areas where they could wash away the mud from their bodies. Afterward, the three entered the communal pools, surrounded by other women receiving medicinal oil massages and washing their hair with scented soaps.
Mona was in absolute bliss while Neena relaxed, immersing herself completely in the warm water. Mona's petite, curvy body showed a healthy tan with fair ceramic patches where the sun couldn't reach. Neena's seasoned, hardworking physique bore blade scars, her muscles toned and firm despite maintaining feminine curves.
Mona stared with wide eyes at Neena's chest while rubbing her own modest—
"Hmm? (Annoyed growl)"
—developing chest.
For Liana, A once-in-a-lifetime moment. She soaked her tired bones in the warm water, cupping some in her soft pink palms, closing her eyes, and letting it drip over her face.
CRACK.
"Huh?"
"What was that sound?" several women responded to the distinctive noise.
"Hmm... it sounded like—" A brown-haired woman receiving an oil massage raised her head.
CRACK... CRACKLE...
"Like glass breaking," Mona added, lifting her gaze toward the glass ceiling.
Following her lead, Neena instinctively looked up. Her eyes widened as she spotted the source—directly above where Liana was soaking.
CRACKLE—
Glass shattered in a cascade of deadly shards.
Along with the broken pieces fell a black figure.
Liana opened her eyes at the commotion, only to see a man with black hair and grey eyes plummeting toward her. A sharp glass fragment scratched her cheek.
"UWAAAAAHHHHH!" (Male scream)
"AHHHHHHH!" (Female screams)
"Princess Liana—" Neena leaped toward her friend, but the water slowed her movements.
SPLASH.
He fell directly onto her, pushing her beneath the surface as they rolled together in the pool.
Liana opened her eyes underwater to find herself pinned by a heavy man with black hair and a brown robe. Confusion clouded her thoughts—she couldn't comprehend her situation.
The man raised his head, seeking to understand his soft landing, only to become mesmerized. His ash-grey eyes locked onto the blue pearls staring directly at him. Her azure hair floated in the water, touching his cheeks and lips. Her smooth white skin and pink lips appeared transparent as ice.
Candlelight distorted through the water created an aurora effect. A fairy had descended before him.
"When strangers meet beneath the will of stars,
it is not chance, but fate that seals the scars.
The script is inked on leaves time cannot fray,
and none may know the price they're bound to pay."