Dawn had just brushed the skies of the capital when a dark-colored carriage rolled down the main road toward the Imperial Thaumaturgical Academy. The seal of the Archon was finely etched into its side prompting anyone who saw it to quickly step aside and bow deeply.
Inside, Soren Voltaire Duval sat in silence, flanked by two of his Four Horsemen: Balthazar Draeven, composed and steadfast, and Aldric Noirvale, who gazed wordlessly out the window, unreadable.
The journey was quiet, yet heavy with purpose. Soren did not arrive as a mentor, nor as a mere observer. He came as the voice of the Empire the tongue of the Emperor, bearing the will of the highest council from the Palace.
Upon arrival at the academy, instructors and administrative staff had already gathered in the eastern council hall a sealed chamber reserved only for matters of weight. At its center stood High Rector Caerwyn Haldeir, accompanied by key division heads from the three great branches: Arcana, Militaris, and Dominus.
Soren walked with measured steps never rushed, never inviting small talk. He halted a few paces from the central table and summoned a scroll from the void, its seal marked in the red wax of the Empire.
"A direct message from His Majesty the Emperor," he said, voice calm as stone.
Rektor Caerwyn received it with both hands. He opened it slowly, reading in silence. Around him, the division heads held their breath, waiting.
After a moment, the rector gave a subtle nod and met Soren's gaze.
"We have received the contents. The message is clear... the tensions at the border are no small matter."
Soren replied coolly,
"His Majesty expects every pillar of the Empire to prepare including the Academy. If conflict becomes inevitable, this generation will serve as both shield and spear."
From the Dominus Division, Magister Ternwald raised an eyebrow.
"They're still young. They should not be involved in politics… not yet."
Aldric let out a quiet, grim laugh.
"The world doesn't wait for them to come of age. It drags in anyone who breathes."
Rector Caerwyn responded,
"Then it is our duty to ensure that when they are dragged, they do not break."
Balthazar stepped forward, voice heavy yet respectful.
"That is why we are here. Not only to deliver the scroll but to assess this academy's resolve in shaping the Empire's final wall."
Soren stared directly at the rector.
"This academy is not merely a place of learning. It is a factory of fate. Forge them to survive. Not to believe the world will ever be fair."
The rector offered a deep nod.
"We understand."
With the message delivered, there were no feasts, no pleasantries. Soren handed an additional copy to the Arcana Division's head and turned to leave.
But just before exiting the chamber, he paused. His voice was low but sharp as a blade:
"Pay close attention to those who will change the world.
Because the world will not wait for them to be ready."
The footsteps of the Archon and his two shadows echoed through the chamber as they departed leaving behind the Emperor's will engraved into the minds of every educator. Outside, the sun was already high. But the shadow of authority still stretched long over the academy walls.