"Prince Lysander!" The exclamation followed him as he took his seat among the Arcanum faction members. The speaker, a tall young woman with amber eyes and dark hair streaked with silver, studied him with undisguised curiosity. "Elara Silverwind. I didn't expect to find an Aurelian in our ranks."
"The Discerner has its reasons," Lysander replied with practiced humility. Around them, other Arcanum students watched the exchange with interest—some suspicious, others calculating.
"The Discerner doesn't make mistakes," said a broad-shouldered young man to his left. "But it can be... influenced by those with the right connections."
"Suggesting the prince manipulated the sorting, Darien?" Elara raised an eyebrow.
"I'm simply noting possibilities," Darien replied with a thin smile. "After all, everyone knows Prince Lysander's magical abilities are... modest at best."
Before Lysander could respond, the hall quieted as the next name was called.
"Thornwood, Marcus."
Lysander watched as his roommate approached the Discerner. In his previous life, Marcus had been sorted into Terravian, as expected of someone with Terra magic from House Thornwood. But Lysander had since learned that Marcus possessed untapped potential in multiple magical disciplines—potential hidden by his own set of magical restrictions.
The sphere glowed with deep green Terra energy at first, but then flickered with unexpected red Ignis traces—a hint of his secret Drakos heritage. After a moment's hesitation, the banner of Terravian illuminated.
As the ceremony concluded, students were directed to faction orientation meetings. Lysander made his way through the thinning crowd, intending to catch Marcus before they separated, but found his path blocked by Professor Thorne.
"Prince Lysander," the professor said, his voice low and measured. "A moment of your time."
Up close, Thorne was exactly as Lysander remembered—approximately fifty, with silver-streaked black hair and penetrating gray eyes that seemed to look through rather than at you. He wore the midnight blue robes of an Umbra specialist, with subtle silver embroidery marking his rank as a senior faculty member.
"Professor Thorne, I presume?" Lysander asked, though he knew the answer.
"Indeed." Thorne studied him with unsettling intensity. "Your sorting was... unexpected."
"I confess I was surprised myself."
"Were you?" Thorne's expression remained unreadable. "The Discerner revealed unusual magical signatures in you, Prince Lysander. Particularly the white radiance at the end—characteristic of Anima magic, the rarest affinity."
Lysander maintained a neutral expression. "I was unaware."
"Your court tutors never identified such potential?"
"They focused primarily on Lumina magic, appropriate for my station," Lysander replied carefully. "With limited success."
Thorne nodded slowly. "I would be interested in evaluating your abilities more thoroughly. Perhaps private sessions, in addition to your regular coursework."
In his previous life, this offer had come months later, after Lysander had struggled visibly in his classes. The acceleration was both promising and concerning.
"I'd be honored, Professor," Lysander said. "Though I shouldn't keep you from the orientation—"
"One more thing," Thorne interrupted, his voice dropping further. "Your father sent a specific request that I oversee your magical education personally."
Lysander stilled. Another deviation. In his previous timeline, the Emperor had shown no interest in his Academy progress.
"That's... surprising," Lysander admitted truthfully.
"Indeed." Thorne's eyes narrowed slightly. "We'll begin tomorrow evening. My office, after dinner." With a curt nod, he departed.
The Arcanum orientation took place in a circular chamber at the top of their tower. Seventeen students—the smallest faction by far—gathered around a table where senior student Valerian Reed outlined expectations.
"Arcanum accepts only the most magically gifted," Reed explained. "You're here because you've demonstrated exceptional potential across multiple magical disciplines or extraordinary strength in a single affinity. With that privilege comes responsibility."
Lysander took measure of his faction mates. Unlike his previous experience in Concordia, where students had largely ignored him, here he was the center of attention—some gazes curious, others openly hostile.
Elara Silverwind positioned herself beside him. "Don't mind Darien," she murmured. "House Valerian has always been jealous of imperial attention."
"You seem well-informed about court politics for someone from the newest High House," Lysander observed quietly.
Elara smiled. "We compensate for our recent elevation with thorough intelligence. House Silverwind may lack ancient bloodlines, but we understand power."
"A valuable perspective," Lysander acknowledged, recognizing a potential ally.
After orientation, students were given an hour to prepare for the Welcome Feast. Lysander returned to his room to find Marcus already there, arranging books on his desk.
"Congratulations on Arcanum," Marcus said, clearly impressed despite himself. "I didn't realize you had such magical potential."
"Neither did I," Lysander replied with calculated sheepishness. "The Discerner sees something my tutors missed, apparently."
Marcus nodded. "Professor Thorne seemed very interested in you."
"You noticed that?"
"It was hard to miss. Thorne rarely takes interest in first-year students." Marcus hesitated. "Be careful with him. There are rumors..."
"What kind of rumors?"
"That he belongs to something called The Archive. A secret organization that preserves magical knowledge outside noble control." Marcus looked uncomfortable. "My father—uncle, I mean—warned me about them."
Lysander filed away the slip about Marcus's parentage. "Thank you for the warning. I'll be cautious."
As they prepared for the feast, Lysander considered his next moves. Professor Thorne's accelerated interest provided an opportunity to address his magical blockage sooner. Elara Silverwind offered connection to technological innovations that would prove crucial later. And Marcus's slip revealed his internal conflict about his true heritage.
The Welcome Feast passed in a blur of introductions and political maneuvering disguised as socializing. Lysander navigated it with the practiced ease of someone who had done it before, carefully balancing between appearing improved but not threatening.
Retiring to his room that night, Lysander added notes to his hidden journal while Marcus slept. His first day had yielded significant deviations from his previous timeline—all potentially advantageous. His sorting into Arcanum would provide access to advanced magical knowledge. Professor Thorne's early interest might accelerate the removal of his magical blocks. And the Emperor's direct involvement suggested his father knew more than he had revealed.
Tomorrow would bring his first classes and his private session with Thorne. Lysander closed his journal with satisfaction. The board was set, and his pieces were moving into position more rapidly than he had dared hope.
The game was changing, and this time, he would win.