Clara shook my shoulder gently.
"Breakfast's ready. You need to eat — I can't have you starving on the way to the academy."
I blinked at the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The weight of yesterday's talk still lingered, quiet but heavy.
She smiled warmly, brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead.
"Big day today. You have to be ready."
I nodded and stood, stretching my arms over my head until my shoulders popped.
"Thanks, Mom."
We headed down the narrow hallway together, the wooden floor creaking beneath our feet. The kitchen smelled of fresh bread and brewing tea — simple comforts that steadied my nerves.
Clara had laid out a modest breakfast: eggs, warm bread, and honey from the hives out back.
"Eat up," she said. "You'll need your strength."
I sank into the chair, feeling the weight of the day settle on my shoulders. But for now, there was just the quiet morning, the taste of food, and Clara's steady presence.
I took a bite of the warm bread, chewing slowly as Clara watched me from across the table.
"So," she began, pouring more tea into my cup, "are you excited about today?"
I hesitated, glancing down at my hands.
"Excited?" I repeated. "I guess... nervous, mostly."
She smiled. "You've been ready for this moment for a long time."
I looked up, meeting her eyes.
"I didn't even meet my mother once," I said quietly. "I'm not saying she left me or anything, but you're more of a mother to me."
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
"That means a lot, baby. You're all I've ever wanted."
Her words settled around me like a warm blanket. I swallowed and nodded, feeling a little lighter.
"Now finish your breakfast. We've got a long day ahead."
I finished the last of my bread, then stood to rinse my plate. Clara was already by the door, wrapping a scarf loosely around her shoulders.
"You've got everything?" she asked, eyeing the small satchel by the table.
I nodded. "Yeah. I triple-checked."
She smiled but didn't say anything for a moment. Just looked at me — that same look she used to give when I scraped my knee as a kid and tried to act like it didn't hurt.
Outside, the distant sound of hooves crunching gravel broke the silence.
"That's the carriage," she said quietly.
I slung the satchel over my shoulder and followed her out to the porch. The carriage was pulling up, painted in Grace Academy's deep navy and silver, drawn by two horses. The driver didn't say a word — just waited.
Clara turned to me, brushing a bit of lint from my shoulder. "Remember what I told you?"
I nodded.
She took a breath, her voice soft. "Be kind, but don't let anyone walk over you. Learn fast. Listen even faster. And if anyone makes you feel small... just remember who raised you."
I tried to smile. It came out a little crooked. "You gonna be okay without me?"
"I'll survive," she said with a crooked smile, swatting my arm.
I hugged her — tight, and longer than I meant to. She didn't let go either, not for a while.
When we finally pulled back, she gave me a wink. "Go. Before I start crying and embarrass both of us."
I climbed into the carriage and looked back one last time. She waved from the porch, standing alone in front of the house.
The carriage wheels had rolled over the ground, I sat back, arms folded, watching familiar streets slide past the window — only now, everything felt... different.
Same empire. Same capital. But I wasn't seeing it the same way anymore.
We passed through the merchant district, and I caught glimpses of the usual chaos — shouting vendors, drawn weapons, bursts of Essentia light flashing in quick haggles. A group of nobles rode by on mounts bred for show, not speed. A Beastfolk courier blurred past us in mid-shift, his legs still half-animal as he leapt a market stall.
I'd seen all this before. But never on my own. Never as someone leaving home to become something more than a quiet village boy with a wooden practice sword.
The coachman didn't say a word as we passed into the upper ring— clean roads, polished signs, guards at every corner.
And then — Grace Academy came into view. Proud banners, and the weight of a future I hadn't chosen, but would claim.
Towers of grey-blue stone were in view, banners flowing in the wind.. Runes pulsed faintly along the edge of the main gate — defensive enchantments, probably. Or worse.
Students filled the courtyard. Some were practicing forms. Others just talked. All of them looked like they belonged.
The carriage slowed, coming to a full stop just beyond the main steps. The coachman knocked twice on the front wall.
"You're up."
I adjusted the strap on my satchel and stepped down. The air was cooler here. This academy screams prestigious..
I glanced once over my shoulder — not looking for Clara. Just... grounding myself.
Then I turned toward the gates.
This was it.
No more warm breakfasts. No more small-town anonymity. Just me and whatever waited behind those walls.
The gates stood tall and imposing, wrought iron twisting into intricate patterns that caught the morning light. Beyond them lay the grounds of Grace Academy — my new home, or at least, where I'll become something great.
A handful of students around me... They wore uniforms polished to a shine, their eyes bright with hope or maybe excitement. I felt like an outsider already.
My heart thudded in my chest as I took a step forward. Every step felt heavier, weighted by the expectations I couldn't yet name. Would I even be strong enough? Would I?
The stone path crunched beneath my boots, and with each footfall, the voices in my mind whispered doubts and dreams alike.
Ahead, the headmaster's towering silhouette came into view. His stern and strict gaze swept over the newcomers, but when it settled on me, I felt an odd flicker of recognition—as if he could see the fire burning quietly beneath my skin.
"Welcome to Grace Academy." His voice—deep and commanding. "Your journey begins here."
I swallowed hard, nodded, and took a deep breath. The future was waiting — unknown, daunting, but mine to claim. I looked down at the paper in my hand, eyes scanning for the next step.
Class assigned: B-2.
The halls were even greater than I expected. My boots echoed off polished stone floors, the occasional passing student offering a curious glance but saying nothing. Each classroom door I passed was marked with embossed lettering and a small sigil — I found mine near the end of the eastern wing.
Class B-2.
I paused for a breath, adjusted the strap on my satchel, then pushed open the door.
Conversations halted.
A dozen pairs of eyes turned toward me — some curious, some dismissive, one or two immediately judging. I kept my expression steady, and scanned for an empty seat.
"You may take seat number 6," came a sharp voice from the front.
The instructor didn't bother looking up from the roster in his hand. Middle-aged, had a neatly styled hair, lean, and dressed in the same navy blue robes I'd glimpsed on other faculty. He had the air of someone who had seen thousands of students and expected little from any of them.
I slipped into a seat by the window, placing my satchel quietly beneath the desk.
The murmurs resumed, softer now. I kept my gaze forward.
"Welcome to Grace Academy," the instructor said, finally setting the roster aside. "This is not a place for mediocrity. You will be tested, broken down, and reforged. If that doesn't appeal to you—leave now."
No one moved.
He gave a curt nod. "Good. Then we begin."
The murmurs quieted as Instructor Vance paced slowly along the front of the room, eyes sharp and steady.
"Before we do get to the lessons, I want to introduce someone you'll be seeing a lot of." He paused, then gestured to a boy near the center of the room—tall, with dark hair and a confident expression. "Yulien Lahde. A Specialist-ranked student who's shown remarkable skill already. He's here not just to learn but to lead. He's known for his talent with swordsmanship and is considered capable of becoming a Vetras in the near future."
Yulien gave a small nod in greeting. Our eyes met for a brief moment—a quiet gesture that seemed to hold more meaning than just politeness.
Vance turned back to the board and picked up a piece of chalk.
"Now, about these ranks..." He began writing words on the blackboard: Initiate, Specialist, Blade, Sorcerer, Vetras.
"Each one marks a step on your journey. Most of you are Initiates, which is where the path begins. It's not about where you start, but where you aim to go. Specialist means your control of Essentia is refined enough to focus on a chosen path."
He underlined the next words: Blade, Sorcerer, Vetras.
"Blade is for those who master the martial arts. Sorcerer is for those who embrace sorcery. Vetras—hybrid warriors who combine both. Each path is tough, but each holds its own power."
I felt a surge of determination. This was more than school—it was the first step to becoming something greater.
Instructor Vance's chalk screeched to a stop at the final tier.
"Warlord. Valeon. Arch-mage. Thalrune."
He turned to face the class, eyes sharp beneath the flickering glow of the overhead crystals.
"These aren't just titles."
His voice was calm, but it pressed against the silence in the room like weight. "They are at the summit of power — reserved for the rare few born with something more than talent. Genius among geniuses."
He tapped the board. "Warlords. Arch-mages. Valeon."
"Well, most of you know people at this level are considered masters — respected, feared."
His gaze drifted toward the window, eyes distant. "But the Thalrune… they're different."
A quiet pause fell, heavy as the truth beneath it.
"They're on another level entirely. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call them walking calamities."
The words lingered, but his face showed no awe. Like he'd seen it firsthand.
"Can I sit now?" Yulien's voice cut through the silence. "Kinda been standing here since you started yapping."
The class laughed — a sudden break in tension.
"Oh—ah. Yes." Vance blinked, glancing down at the roster in his hands.
"You can sit down at seat number seven."
Yulien slung his bag over his shoulder and moved down the aisle, his footsteps easy, almost lazy.
He dropped into the seat beside mine with a grin.
"Guess we're neighbors," he said, tossing a quick glance my way.
I nodded, unsure what to say.
He didn't press. Just leaned back in his seat like he'd already decided to be comfortable here.
Something about him felt… out of place, like he already knew how this place worked and didn't care to follow its rules.
Yulien dropped into the seat beside me, settling in like he'd been there for weeks already.
Instructor Vance finally seemed to relax.
"Well, since it's the first day," he said, glancing around the room, "why don't you all get to know each other? But don't get too comfortable—tomorrow the academy will assess all of you. In other words, you'll all spar in the arena."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the classroom.
"Any questions?" Vance asked.
I hesitated, then raised my hand.
"Yes?" Vance pointed to me.
"Shouldn't we have done that today?"
Vance smiled faintly, shaking his head.
"Yeah, you're right. But the headmaster felt it was better if you all got used to your environment first. Besides, all of you were put into random classes. Tomorrow's sparring will decide which class you really belong in."
Instructor Vance leaned back in his chair, a faint smile crossing his lips. He pulled a fancy book from his satchel and set it on his desk, then lifted a cup of tea to his lips.
"Any more questions?" he asked, eyes scanning the room.
No hands went up. The students seemed ready.
"Alright then," Vance said, settling deeper into his seat. "I'll be here reading, so feel free to stand up or just hang out and relax."
The classroom gradually grew a little louder as conversations started up among the students. But I just sat quietly in my own seat, my mind wandering as I thought about what to do next, feeling both anticipation and uncertainty settle over me.
Yulien glanced over at me, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "You know anybody in this academy?"
I shook my head with a chuckle. "Not even one."
He smiled "Me neither. I have a cousin here, but we rarely talk… I doubt she even knows I exist."
I returned the smile. "Well, you wanna be friends?"
His grin grew wider. "Sure!"
"So, where are you from? You from Valemon too?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm from Kel'thyr—the Cyrthal Empire."
"Hm… that's the place with a lot of vampire and elven people, right?"
Yulien chuckled softly. "Yeah. It's… complicated."
Yulien glanced over at me with a curious look. "So, what family are you from? You a noble around here?"
I shook my head. "Not a noble at all. I'm from the Aluden family."
He smirked slightly. "Don't sweat it. Being a noble can be pretty rough—lots of them are brats with more pride than sense."
I chuckled. "What about you? You a noble then?"
"Yeah," Yulien said with a nod. "I'm from the Lahde family."
I shook my head. "Haven't really heard of it. I don't know much about noble families, honestly."
Yulien shrugged. "That's normal. I'm from Cyrthal — a different place altogether.
The classroom gradually grew louder as conversations sparked among the students. Instructor Vance raised his hand, tapping sharply on his desk to draw their attention.
"Everybody quiet down, I have something to say to you all." The room fell silent almost instantly.
"The headmaster has given permission to let you all go out and explore the campus." He glanced around the room, watching the subtle shift in energy. "You've got plenty of time, and this will last until lunch break."
A few students exchanged excited glances, some whispering about where they might go first. I stayed in my seat for a moment, weighing my options.
I stood slowly, the quiet chatter swelling around me. The campus was a new world—a place I could learn its secrets, maybe even find some allies. Yulien was already gathering his things, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Wanna check out the training grounds?" he asked, nodding toward the open courtyard visible through the windows.
I hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds good."
Together, we stepped out of the classroom. Around us, students scattered in all directions—some heading toward the gardens or the library. The cafeteria was still closed off for now, so no one was going there yet. I felt a strange mix of excitement and unease, but mostly determination. Tomorrow's assessments were coming, and I wasn't going to be caught off guard.
Yulien fell into step beside me. "We'll figure this place out. You're not alone."
I glanced at him, grateful for the unexpected company. Maybe this place wouldn't feel so foreign after all.