[Day One · Evening]
The first day's theory lessons hadn't been overly complex. Though Ellis had only caught the afternoon session, the core concepts were starting to settle in her mind.
She flipped open her notebook, the ink still damp on the page, outlining the key points:
Magic Users (Magi): The overarching term for all wielders of magic.
Major Magi Disciplines:
Elementalist: Manipulate fundamental elements (Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth) for combat or spells. Those with rare affinities like Light, Sand, Ice, or Wind are often considered prodigies.
Conduitist: Act as 'relays,' channeling mana from source to target. Includes mana transmitters, incantation specialists, and artisans who repair or enhance magitech devices.
Enhancist: Specialize in enhancing other Magi or objects. They boost weapon potency, accelerate mana flow, or amplify physical abilities, senses, or magical resistance.
Peculiarist: A catch-all for wielders of bizarre, unique, and uncategorizable abilities.
Dimensionalist: Manipulate spatial laws, capable of dimensional travel, creating storage pockets, or telekinesis.
Tabooist: Their names are often spoken in whispers. Their powers delve into perilous realms—soul manipulation, temporal distortion... Often considered anathema.
Symbiotist: Form 'symbiotic' pacts with specific entities (magical beasts, sentient flora, spirits, extradimensional beings, or psychic resonances) to gain power or amplification. The symbiont can be a focus for magic or even a form of magitech armor.
Blackist: ...Unknown.
Ellis's pen hovered over "Blackist"... Unknown? This cryptic entry... did it mean someone like her?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Sharp knocks shattered her concentration.
"Come in," Ellis called, snapping the notebook shut.
The door cracked open, revealing a gleaming bald head. "So? Survived day one alright?" Professor Miro beamed.
"Yeah. Though the campus is huge. Still finding my bearings," Ellis admitted with a small smile.
"Ha! Consider it initiation! You haven't truly joined Noren until you've gotten properly lost around Fountain Plaza at least three times!" Professor Miro leaned through the doorway, a few silver strands of hair rebelliously defying the evening breeze.
"Lucky I'm bunking near the library, right next to the lecture halls," Ellis quipped.
"Speaking of which," Professor Miro stepped fully inside, "given any thought to your specialization?"
"Well, since I'm supposedly the 'Envoy of Primal Shadow,' combat seems logical?"
"Perfect! The school board practically wanted to stamp 'APPROVED' on your forehead!" He produced a gilt-edged timetable from his robes, its pages shimmering faintly.
"Combat specialization, main track! As for electives? Take your pick—perks of being a prodigy!"
"And the actual combat training?" Ellis asked, her voice a mix of anticipation and underlying unease. "When does that start?"
"Given your... unconventional magical background, and our limited grasp of Shadow Weavers? Sooner the better—but only when you feel ready," Professor Miro replied, his smile warm and reassuring.
"Tomorrow," Ellis stated, the memory of Barry's sneer lending her voice unexpected steel.
"Excellent! Gutsy! Knew I picked the right 'Chosen One'!" Professor Miro chuckled.
"Sneak peek: your combat instructor is rumored to be the continent's top Dimensionalist!"
"A Dimensionalist? Am I learning spatial magic right away?"
"Gotta crawl before you sprint," Professor Miro waved a dismissive hand. "Besides—" He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice, "In a real scrap, magic's only part of the equation! Close-quarters combat, mana control, battlefield awareness... miss one, and you're lunchmeat!"
He tapped the crystal orb on her nightstand, startling the tiny starry-scaled lizard inside. "Don't forget to feed the little tyke. Slot's at the top. He'll eat anything, but he'd sell his soul for gummy worms."
Ellis leaned closer. The creature instantly pressed tiny paws against the glass, its damp nose leaving a foggy print, breath misting the inner surface.
"Doesn't it... get lonely? Trapped in there?" The question slipped out, unbidden.
"Delicate breed, this one. Immune system's practically non-existent." Professor Miro's voice dropped, his whiskers seeming to droop.
"Hatched? Nearly choked on his own scale dust!" His fingertip glowed faintly, causing intricate, luminous patterns to flare across the orb's surface. The startled lizard recoiled, blowing a rainbow-tinted snot bubble.
"See that? Living containment field! Without those runes? A sneeze could turn him into a firecracker!"
"Rejected by the world..." Ellis murmured, her fingertip resting on the cool glass. Her reflection in the crystal superimposed her jade-green eyes over the lizard's molten gold gaze. "...Sounds familiar."
"Don't you worry!" Professor Miro thrust a determined thumb towards the ceiling. "Took one look at you and knew—steady hands, kind heart! This little fellow? Couldn't be in better hands!"
"Just... kindred spirits, I suppose." Ellis withdrew her hand, watching the lizard bat at the light patterns dancing on her pillow. Her tone was casual, but her fingertip traced slow, unconscious circles on the bedsheet, betraying a hidden softness.
"Right! Off I go! Get some rest!" Professor Miro backed towards the door with energetic hops. "And bolt that window! Last semester, some poor sod forgot—got rudely awakened by a sleepwalking broomstick poking his backside!"
The lock clicked. Ellis flopped back onto the bed. The crystal orb on her pillow cast a soft, shifting constellation of light onto the ceiling. She watched the shimmering patterns, like countless unwritten futures dancing in the dark.
[The Next Day]
Ellis's second day of classes felt as effortless as watching a historical documentary. The instructor unfurled shimmering scroll after scroll, weaving light and shadow into tapestries that laid bare the world's past, present, and potential futures before her eyes, like recounting an ancient legend.
She sat in the classroom, gazing at the luminous illusions suspended in the air. Each seemed a world unto itself, depicting stars, mountains, raging battles, miracles, and countless strange, mysterious names.
She listened as the instructor narrated the world's birth from chaos, how seven continents fostered wildly divergent civilizations, weathered centuries of rise and fall, and finally, in this present era, reached a new turning point.
"The continent you stand upon," the instructor's voice was calm yet imbued with a certain solemnity, "is named Aerie. Once a cradle of magical civilization, it flows with the oldest bloodlines and bears the heaviest burdens of the past."
Ellis listened, enthralled. Those ancient names and legends seemed to whisper within her heart. Yet, as the final luminous image faded, her thoughts snapped back to reality.
Her gaze dropped to the course schedule etched on the parchment in her hand. A slight tension gripped her. After class, she still had to report to the training chamber.
Ellis walked slowly down the deserted corridor. Sunlight slanted through the windows, but failed to lift the weight settling in her chest.
She couldn't shake the feeling that the training chamber's pure white floor was like a cold mirror, reflecting her still-unformed self. And she wasn't ready to face what she might see there.
Starting today, after every class, she would step into this place: beneath a ceiling as cold and metallic as forged steel, its surface flawlessly smooth, as if repeatedly tempered by magic, utterly unblemished, as if the entire space were cast from an immortal material.
Beneath her feet lay an expanse of unblemished white, smooth as glass. It reflected everything around her with perfect clarity, yet held a depth that felt capable of piercing through to the soul, revealing its deepest secrets.
"This," Professor Miro explained, tapping the floor lightly with his foot, "is a massive magic circle crafted from powdered dragon bone. It creates hyper-realistic illusionary spaces, simulating all manner of elemental attributes and terrains."
He gestured broadly. "It stores countless environmental templates. Want endless grasslands? A frozen glacier? Just say the word."
Professor Miro's words hadn't fully faded when the air beside him rippled, like a pond disturbed by a pebble. From the subtle disturbance, a tall figure coalesced soundlessly, as if he had always been standing there, merely hidden within the play of light and shadow.
It was a man with white hair. Not the dull white of age, but the pristine fluff of first snow, or clouds clinging to a mountain peak – untouched and clean. His most arresting feature was his eyes – a deep, silver-grey, swirling with the light of distant stars. Their gaze was inscrutable, yet compelling. Too compelling, Ellis thought, catching herself.
"First meeting," the man said, a faint, almost imperceptible curve touching his lips.
His voice was clear, like jade striking jade, yet he deliberately drew out the vowels, infusing his words with a subtle, teasing lilt that landed precisely in Ellis's ears: "I'm your combat instructor, Silas Vance. But you can call me 'Sil'."
He gave a slight, casual nod that carried an effortless grace. As he did, his shock of white hair shifted gently.
"Theoretically," Sil's gaze rested briefly on Ellis, that silver-grey stare seeming to assess her, "you possess the aptitude to learn all forms of magic. Your potential is… fathomless."
He paused, his tone suddenly as casual as discussing dinner plans. "So, why not start with the most fundamental, and the most… fiery? Elemental magic – Pyromancy."
Professor Miro, standing by, quietly depressed a control on the device in his hand.