Hileya fussed with Vel's uniform at the lodging's iron gate, fixing the fabric with meticulous attention to detail. He stood perfectly still in his prepared Academy attire, watching several other students emerge from the same building—more than he'd realized lived there.
"There," Hileya said, stepping back to examine her work. "Now you look proper."
Before Vel could respond, he spotted Celia approaching. She wore her duelist uniform, the asymmetrical mantle flowing elegantly over her left shoulder. The uniform looked perfectly pressed, as if she'd spent considerable time preparing it.
"Did you sleep in that?" Vel asked as she neared, raising an eyebrow.
Celia rolled her eyes. "Of course not. I just... got up extra early." Her defensive tone suggested otherwise.
"You're practically glowing with excitement," Vel teased.
Celia's cheeks flushed slightly, but she lifted her chin defiantly. "Can you blame me? After everything we've been through since Elnor—this is our new beginning."
Vel's expression softened. "You're right. We should go," he said, adjusting his collar one final time. "Better early than late."
Celia nodded in agreement. They waved goodbye to Hileya and stepped through the gate, beginning their journey through the mist-dampened streets. As they walked, Celia pointed out various shops—an alchemist, a blacksmith, a restaurant with city views—clearly familiar with the area thanks to her roommate's guidance.
Vel glanced at her, surprised. "Since when did you get to know all this?"
"My roommate showed me," Celia replied with a casual shrug.
Almost as if summoned by her words, a young lady approached as Celia waved her over. She had vivid blue hair tied in a ponytail that bounced with each step.
"Konomi, this is Vel—my friend from Elnor that I mentioned," Celia continued.
Vel noticed her uniform had slight modifications compared to Celia's—longer sleeves and protective cuffs made of what appeared to be heat-resistant fabric.
Konomi bowed slightly in greeting. "A pleasure to meet you. Celia has spoken highly of your abilities."
"All exaggerations, I'm sure," Vel replied with a smile.
As they rounded the final turn, the Academy emerged from the morning mist—ivory towers rising against the sky, its grand façade gleaming in the early sunlight.
Vel noticed students from all directions converging toward the main gates, forming streams of uniforms that merged into a single flowing current. Some walked briskly while others ran, all funneling through the imposing entrance.
A stern-faced gatekeeper stood vigilant beside the gate, checking timepieces and observing the incoming students with practiced scrutiny. His weathered face barely moved as he tracked each person entering.
"Guess he'll be the one to give us trouble if we're ever late," Vel muttered, noting the man's unwavering attention.
Beside him, Celia adjusted her mantle. "This is where we part ways, I think. My homeroom is in the west wing."
Konomi nodded in agreement. "You should hurry. Instructor Caldwen doesn't appreciate tardiness."
"Yeah, better hurry," Vel said, scanning the crowd. "I don't want to stand around waiting for Thornwood to come over and give his typical comments."
Celia gave Vel a quick pat on the shoulder. "See you after class, then?"
"Definitely," Vel replied with a nod.
They exchanged brief smiles before Celia and Konomi merged into the stream of students heading toward the western buildings. Vel watched them for a moment before turning his way, suddenly aware that he was walking alone while most students moved in pairs or groups.
---
Vel navigated through the crowded main hallway, weaving between clusters of chattering students. As he turned down the pathway leading to the unstable attunement area, the crowd thinned dramatically.
He found himself walking alone across a gravel garden—no portraits on these walls, no ornate decorations. Functional, almost an afterthought, fitting for a class the Academy seemed reluctant to acknowledge.
Ahead, the classroom door stood open. Only five desks arranged in a semicircle, sunlight streaming through tall windows. The sparse room felt larger than it probably was.
Tomas, already seated at one of the desks, raised a hand in greeting. "Good morning!" he called out with unexpected enthusiasm.
Vel stepped inside, glancing around at the empty seats. "Morning. Where do I sit?"
Tomas gestured broadly at the remaining desks with a small grin. "Anywhere, I guess. No one would compete with the top student of our class."
The comment caught Vel off guard, and he couldn't help but smile. "Top student of the smallest class—not exactly a crowning achievement."
Vel took a seat beside Tomas, placing his bag on the desk. The polished wood surface was noticeably better quality than he had expected for the "unstable" section, making him wonder if Instructor Lyvenna had something to do with it.
Before he could ask Tomas about their schedule, the door creaked open again. Enya Lorrath walked in, her dark hair tied back in a practical braid. She looked more composed than she had during their entrance exams, though she stifled a small yawn as she surveyed the room.
"Did you hear about the betting pool?" she asked without preamble, dropping her satchel on a desk across from them.
Vel looked up, puzzled. "The what pool now?"
Enya's expression soured as she took her seat. "They're taking bets on which one of us will be the first to drop out."
"Who is?" Vel asked, feeling his mood darken.
"Everyone else," she replied, gesturing vaguely toward the main academy buildings. "Apparently the elite attunement students started it, but now even the standard classes are joining in."
Tomas nodded solemnly. "It's a tradition, my cousin said. Passing the entrance is one thing, keeping the grades is another."
Vel frowned, remembering how quickly the other students had dismissed their group during testing. "That's... lovely."
"You did hear the archmagister's speech," Tomas continued, his voice dropping slightly. "Who cannot keep up will be removed." He mimicked Elyssia's authoritative tone with surprising accuracy.
"So they're betting on our failure before we've even had our first class?" Vel asked, feeling a surge of indignation.
The classroom door swung open again as Rohen Delmar stepped inside, his slender frame silhouetted against the hallway light. His eyes darted around the room before settling on the remaining seats.
"Sorry," he mumbled, moving toward a desk on the opposite side from Vel. "Got lost twice on the way here."
Mira Telsin entered just behind him, her auburn hair neatly combed and pinned back with a simple bronze clip. She offered a small wave to the group before taking the last empty desk, completing their semicircle.
"Now we're all here," she said, arranging her notebooks carefully in front of her.
With all five seats filled, the classroom settled into comfortable silence. Thick stone walls muffled the Academy's distant bustle while sunlight streamed through tall windows.
Spacious. Quiet too. This would make a good reading room, Vel thought, appreciating the tranquility that seemed almost impossible to find in other parts of the Academy.
Vel looked around at his small group. Tomas fiddled with his quill, Enya reviewed notes, Mira lined up her notebooks and quills in neat rows, and Rohen stared out the window, lost in thought. Unstable, they called them. Inconspicuous among hundreds of other students.
The Academy had mislabeled them. Discarded them as flawed. Yet here Vel was, placed among them by his own choices.
He'd come to the Academy to understand this world, to uncover the mystery of his arrival here. Yet here he was, sitting with the Academy's discards instead of pursuing the elite classes where real answers might lie. Does being here actually help his true goals?
But as he looked at these mislabeled students, something familiar stirred. This was what he'd always done—found the bugs in the system, debugged what others couldn't see. Maybe this wasn't a detour from his mission. Maybe this was exactly where he belonged, doing what he'd always been meant to do: solving the problems everyone else had given up on.
The door opened with a soft click, and Instructor Lyvenna entered carrying a leather satchel and a small wooden case. Her brown hair was pulled back in its characteristic style, and she wore simple but well-tailored robes in deep blue. Despite her youthful appearance, something in her bearing commanded immediate attention.
"Good morning, class," she said, setting her belongings on the podium. Her voice carried clearly through the room without seeming raised.
The five students straightened in their seats, offering various forms of greeting in return.
Lyvenna opened the wooden case, revealing a collection of crystal prisms in different shapes and sizes. Each one caught the morning light differently, casting tiny rainbows across the classroom's stone walls.
"Today we begin with focus crystals," she announced, lifting one of the prisms. "Before you can cast spells effectively, you must understand the tools that will aid your development."
She held up a clear, hexagonal crystal about the length of her palm. "This is a basic training focus. It will help stabilize your mana flow while you learn proper techniques."
Lyvenna moved around the room, placing one crystal on each student's desk. When she reached Vel, she paused for just a moment, her eyes meeting his with what seemed like recognition.
"These particular focus crystals are attuned to work with unstable attunements," she continued, returning to the front. "They provide additional stabilization that standard foci cannot offer."
Vel picked up his crystal, feeling its smooth, cool surface. It was heavier than he'd expected, with a slight warmth that seemed to respond to his touch.
"However," Lyvenna added, "don't expect miracles. Even with these focus crystals, your spells may still fizzle or destabilize without proper practice. The crystal helps, but it doesn't solve the underlying issue."
Tomas raised his hand eagerly. "Instructor Lyvenna, if one focus crystal helps with stabilization, wouldn't using multiple ones strengthen the effect even more?"
Lyvenna smiled at the question, pulling out her own wand and positioning it next to the training crystal. "A logical thought, but let me show you why that doesn't work."
"They're called 'foci' for a reason," she explained. "Think about light passing through glass. When properly aligned, a focus sharpens and directs energy."
She arranged the two crystals in a line, allowing sunlight to pass through both. Instead of intensifying the beam as Vel had expected, the light scattered in unpredictable patterns.
"Do you need to focus after already focusing? Like light going through two layers of glass?" She moved the crystals slightly, demonstrating how the beam became increasingly distorted. "They simply become unfocused again. Using two defeats the entire purpose."
Vel nodded, understanding dawning. It was similar to programming principles—optimization required efficiency, not redundancy. Adding more code didn't necessarily improve function; it often created conflicts.
"So it's about quality, not quantity," Vel summarized.
"Precisely," Lyvenna replied with approval. "One properly attuned focus will serve you better than multiple competing ones. The resonance between your mana and the crystal should be harmonious, not chaotic."
Vel looked down at his prism with renewed appreciation. This wasn't just a tool—it was an extension of himself, something that would respond uniquely to his particular magical signature.
Lyvenna moved to the board and picked up chalk.
"Let's establish our foundation," she said. "What do you know about the elements?"
Tomas's hand shot up instantly. "There are six types of elements—Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Light, and Dark."
The chalk scratched against the board as Lyvenna wrote each element in a circular arrangement. "Good. Now, can you tell me about Fire?"
"Fire creates heat and light," Tomas answered eagerly. "It can burn things, melt metal, and spread if not controlled properly."
Lyvenna nodded and turned to Mira. "And Air?"
"Air moves things around," Mira said carefully. "It can push objects, carry sounds, and create wind. Some people can use it for lightning too."
"Enya, what about Water?"
"Water can change between ice, liquid, and steam," Enya replied. "It flows, it can cut through things over time, and it's essential for life."
Lyvenna's gaze moved to Rohen. "Earth?"
"Earth is... solid. Strong," Rohen said quietly. "It can be shaped into walls, weapons. Plants grow from it."
Vel listened carefully to each explanation, noting how his classmates understood the fundamental principles of the system he'd once designed. Their answers were practical, experiential—exactly how people in this world would think about magic.
Lyvenna's eyes settled on him. "Velarian, you've been unusually quiet. What are your thoughts on Light and Dark?"
Vel hesitated. Internally, his mind raced with concepts this world didn't have words for. Could entropy—a scientific principle from his old world—explain the nature of darkness magic? The gradual descent into disorder, energy spreading until it dissipates... But how could he explain that without sounding like he came from another world entirely?
The silence stretched. Lyvenna waited patiently, but Vel could feel the other students' curious gazes.
"Light illuminates and reveals," he finally said, choosing his words carefully. "It can heal, purify, and chase away shadows. Dark... absorbs and conceals. It can hide things, drain energy, and..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Maybe it's not just the absence of light. Maybe it's something that returns things to their... natural state."
Lyvenna's eyebrows rose slightly, clearly intrigued by his phrasing. "An interesting way to put it. 'Natural state'—what do you mean by that?"
Vel found himself caught between caution and the urge to explain. "Light needs energy, same as fire. But darkness just... is. All things return to darkness eventually."
"Life needs... mana, life force. But death comes without effort. The natural state of life is... death." He held up his focus crystal. "Everything's natural state is stillness. This crystal falls when nothing holds it up. Maybe dark magic manipulates that process—helping things return to where they naturally want to be."
"Which would mean..." Vel continued, almost to himself, "people attuned to darkness aren't necessarily... dark by nature. They just understand how things should be, even when it goes against what we might want."
The classroom had fallen completely silent. Tomas stared at him with wide eyes, his hand holding his quill frozen in place. Mira and Rohen exchanged bewildered glances, while Enya simply watched him with her mouth slightly open.
Suddenly, Vel realized he'd gone too far. He'd been explaining entropy theory disguised as magical philosophy, but to everyone else, it probably sounded like advanced theoretical concepts far beyond their level. Lyvenna's expression was particularly intense—a mixture of curiosity and something that looked almost like suspicion.
Vel cleared his throat, heat rising to his face. "I'm sorry, Instructor Lyvenna. I didn't mean to derail the class. Just... thinking out loud, I suppose."
Lyvenna studied him for a moment longer before a slight smile touched her lips. "No need to apologize for thinking, Mr. Novalance. Though I admit, your thoughts follow rather... unconventional paths."
"But let's continue with our foundations before we venture too deep into theory."
She erased parts of the magic circle, leaving only the framework. "Magic circles consist of three essential components—flow paths, sigils, and containment boundaries."
Her chalk traced the curved lines running through the circle. "Flow paths direct your mana, like rivers carrying water. The width and depth of these paths determines how much mana can pass through at once."
Vel studied the intricate patterns, fascinated by how the magic system had evolved. These detailed components—sigils, flow paths, containment boundaries—were far more sophisticated than anything in his original game design. The systematic approach made sense of the scattered knowledge he'd pieced together on his own.
"Sigils," Lyvenna continued, tapping various symbols, "are the functional components. Each represents a specific instruction or transformation. This one converts mana to heat, this one creates pressure, this one shapes the element."
The class diligently copied the diagrams into their notebooks. Vel noted how Tomas's pen moved quickly and confidently while Mira struggled to capture the intricate details.
"Finally, containment boundaries," Lyvenna indicated the outermost ring, "prevent mana leakage and stabilize the spell. Without proper containment, spells become unpredictable—exactly what happens with unstable attunement."
"Your focus crystal," Lyvenna held up her prism, "acts as an external stabilizer. It reinforces your containment boundaries, which is why we start with these before attempting direct casting."
Lyvenna demonstrated a simple combination on the board. "Change this sigil," she said, redrawing one symbol, "and a fireball becomes a wind blast. Simple in theory, but complicated by nature."
"Only a fire-attuned student can use fire as the main component of a spell. However, they may borrow functional sigils from other elements—such as making the fireball move through air. Sometimes we call this secondary attunement."
"Dual attunement students, however, can use two elements as their main components freely, which is why they can cast much stronger spells."
"Elite students..." Enya said quietly.
Vel watched the board as Lyvenna continued the lesson, following each element she outlined. But one thing had been nagging at his mind for a while now. One thing was missing from all this. Something that should exist if this world truly followed his design.
Vel tried not to interrupt the lesson, but as he was about to raise his hand, the bell rang.
"That concludes today's lesson," Lyvenna announced, setting down her chalk. "Tomorrow we'll begin practical applications. Please review the diagrams in your textbooks, pages twelve through twenty-seven."
Vel closed his notebook, frustration gnawing at him. He'd been so close to asking his question, but the timing had been wrong. No matter—he could research it later, or find the right moment to ask Lyvenna privately. For now, he had to admit that being placed in the unstable attunement class might be a blessing in disguise. Where else would he receive such detailed foundational knowledge?
Students shuffled out of the classroom, gathering their belongings as conversations about the lecture filled the air. Vel tucked his notes into his satchel, still processing the wealth of information Lyvenna had shared.
As he walked into the corridor, he spotted Tomas standing near a window—but he wasn't alone. Severin Thornwood loomed over him, his posture radiating arrogance. In his hand, Thornwood held Tomas's focus crystal, examining it with exaggerated scrutiny.
"I wonder," Thornwood mused, turning the crystal between his fingers, "how long before your foci shatter under the pressure? I've heard unstable students tend to break things."
Tomas reached for his crystal, but Thornwood shifted it just beyond his grasp. "I'm just examining it. Purely academic interest, you understand."
"Give it back," Tomas said, his voice wavering slightly.
"If you really believe in your magic theories, why don't you prove it?" Thornwood's lips curled into a smirk. "Show us all this unstable attunement isn't just a fancy term for incompetence."
A small crowd had begun to gather, drawn by the confrontation. Vel saw the flicker of panic in Tomas's eyes—the pressure of unwanted attention coupled with the threat to his focus.
Vel walked closer, keeping his expression neutral. "Hey, what's going on?"
Thornwood's head snapped toward him, recognition flickering across his face. For an instant, his eyes widened before his expression shifted.
"Just having a friendly discussion about magical theory," Thornwood said, his tone shifting to forced casualness. He handed the crystal back to Tomas with an affected shrug. "Another time, perhaps."
As Thornwood retreated down the hallway with his usual swagger, Vel turned to Tomas. "You alright?"
"Yeah... thanks." Tomas clutched his focus crystal protectively. "He's not worth the trouble anyway."
Outside the Academy's main building, Vel found Celia waiting by a flowering shrub in her duelist uniform.
"There you are!" she called. "How was class?"
"Fascinating actually. Lyvenna covered magic circle theory and—" Vel started enthusiastically before noticing Celia's glazed expression. "What about you? What did you learn?"
Celia brightened immediately. "Sword techniques! Practical combat applications and stance work. None of that basic theory stuff. We jumped straight into practice rings."
"No surprise there," Vel chuckled. "They know what they're doing with class divisions."
As they approached the Academy gates, Vel suddenly remembered his commitment for the afternoon. "I almost forgot—I promised Hileya I'd take her to the tailor after class."
"Not without me," Celia declared firmly, linking her arm through his. "I want to see what kind of clothes you pick for your 'servant'."
Vel felt a slight warmth rise to his cheeks. "I'm not picking anything. She just needs options beyond her maid uniform."
"Mmm-hmm," Celia hummed skeptically, a teasing smile playing at her lips. "Then you'll definitely need my help."
Together they passed beneath the Academy's grand archway, stepping into the late afternoon sunlight. The first day had brought challenges and insights in equal measure—new knowledge, new conflicts, and the first glimpses of what their Academy life would truly entail.
For now, though, he was simply a student finishing his first day of classes, walking arm in arm with a friend toward whatever adventures awaited beyond the Academy walls.