The halls of Aetherion Academy bustled with movement as students gathered for the day's orientation. The main hall, grand and towering with its intricate enchanted chandeliers and glistening marble floors, had been transformed into a convergence point where hopefuls from every class mingled, waiting for instructions.
Elias, Kiran, and Hush moved toward the crowd, the weight of their morning lingering between them. Elias was still absently tugging at the mana-restricting armband on his arm, his fingers tracing the glowing sigils as if he could somehow make them fade away through sheer will.
"Stop that," Kiran muttered, nudging him in the ribs.
Elias grumbled, but relented. "It's weird," he complained. "Like wearing a coat that's too tight. I hate it."
"You set off the fire alarms on the first day," Kiran shot back. "Frankly, I'm surprised they didn't strap a muzzle on you too."
Elias opened his mouth to retort, but Hush cut in with a dry remark. "This is apparently normal for him," he said, looking at Kiran with mild exasperation. "You spent the entire time outside Dorne's office explaining how bad this was going to be."
Kiran nodded solemnly. "And that was just the short version."
Elias scowled. "I feel very unappreciated right now."
They rounded the final corner into the main hall, where the crowd had swelled considerably. The room was filled with excited murmurs, students exchanging stories of their trials, dorm arrangements, and first-day encounters. Some were still looking around in awe at the sheer scale of Aetherion, while others huddled together, discussing the coming school year.
It didn't take long for them to spot Martice and Kaelen standing off to the side, casually observing the growing crowd. Martice was leaned against a pillar, looking supremely relaxed, while Kaelen—still visibly exhausted from yesterday—stood with his arms crossed, watching the bustling activity with half-lidded eyes.
"There you two are," Kiran called as they approached. "How was your morning?"
Martice smirked. "Better than yours, by the look of it." His gaze flicked toward Elias's mana-restricting armband. "What'd you do?"
Elias sighed dramatically. "Got punished for experimentation."
Kiran rolled his eyes. "He set the room on fire."
"It was a small fire," Elias defended. "Very controlled."
Kaelen let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I am way too tired to hear the details of that right now."
Elias turned to Martice. "What about you?"
Martice shrugged. "Had a nice, quiet night. Got to chat with Kaelen a bit. No fire alarms, thankfully. Pretty peaceful, really."
Kaelen grunted in agreement. "Until I collapsed from overusing my mana," he muttered. "Yeah. Great night."
Before the conversation could continue, a sudden shift in the air drew their attention. The murmurs around the hall softened immediately as a commanding presence entered the room.
Rylan Dorne stepped forward, his crisp robes flowing behind him as he surveyed the gathered students with his ever-sharp gaze. Three figures followed in his wake, each exuding their own aura of authority.
"Good morning, students," Dorne greeted, his voice steady and composed. The room fell into complete silence, his presence alone enough to command attention.
"As of today, you are officially part of Aetherion Academy. You have passed the trials, earned your place within these halls, and now, you will begin the true journey of refining your craft."
He stepped aside, gesturing to the three individuals behind him.
"These are the instructors assigned to guide you through your first year here. Each of them is an expert in their respective fields and will oversee the development of your skills throughout your time in Foundation Tier."
He nodded to the first instructor, a tall woman with short, silver-streaked black hair, her expression sharp but not unkind. She was dressed in practical combat attire, a long coat over sleek dark robes, her boots well-worn from frequent use. A thin rapier rested at her hip, her fingers idly tapping against the hilt.
"This is Instructor Hallie Iren, the primary combat specialist for Foundation students."
Hallie's sharp gaze swept over the crowd, assessing each student in turn. "You'll be seeing a lot of me," she said, voice smooth but firm. "I don't tolerate slackers. If you're in my class, expect to be pushed to your limits—and beyond."
A few students shifted nervously.
Dorne moved to the second instructor, a lean, wiry man with dark, sun-kissed skin and bright, inquisitive green eyes. He wore a series of alchemical belts, vials of unknown liquids strapped across his torso, and had ink stains visible on his fingertips.
"This is Instructor Jorun Thalius, an expert in magical theory, research, and enchantment."
Jorun gave a lazy wave. "Try not to blow anything up," he said casually. "Or, well, at least warn me first."
A few students laughed at that, but others noted the sharpness in his otherwise relaxed demeanor—this was a man who expected precision.
Finally, Dorne turned to the third instructor. This one was a woman wrapped in heavy dark robes, her hood casting a slight shadow over her features. Despite this, her piercing violet eyes were clearly visible, calm and unwavering.
"This is Instructor Sienna Voss, who specializes in spellcasting refinement, control, and magical applications."
Sienna's voice was quiet but firm, carrying a weight that made it impossible to ignore. "Magic is fickle," she stated. "It does not bend to recklessness. Mastery is not about power alone—it is about control. Remember that."
Elias felt her gaze pass over him for just a fraction of a second. His fingers instinctively twitched toward his armband before he stopped himself.
With introductions complete, Dorne turned back to the gathered students.
"For the rest of the day, you will split into your respective classes and tour the academy's facilities. This will give you an opportunity to familiarize yourselves with where you'll be training, studying, and developing your craft. By the end of the day, you will be led to your assigned classrooms, where your official lessons will begin."
He let the weight of his words settle before continuing.
"However," Dorne said, pausing briefly, "before I leave you in the hands of your instructors, I will leave you with a parting question."
His sharp gaze passed over the crowd.
"Why are you here?"
The question hung in the air, as if it carried more weight than just a casual inquiry.
"Every single one of you passed the entrance examinations, but I wonder… how many of you have truly thought about what lies beyond that? Why are you standing here, wearing these uniforms, ready to dedicate yourselves to magic?"
A murmur passed through the students, some shifting uncomfortably.
Dorne let the silence stretch for a moment longer.
"Keep that question close," he said finally. "Because your answer will shape the kind of wizard you will become in the future."
With that, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving the students to their instructors.
The first day had officially begun.