The grand hall of Astralis Institute was carved from moonstone and obsidian, rising into arching spires like frozen lightning bolts. Ancient constellations gleamed along the domed ceiling—twelve signs for twelve powers, each pulsing faintly with magic.
Celeste stood at the back of the gathering crowd, tucked into the shadow of a pillar, eyes half-lidded, ears sharp.
Hundreds of students from all seven empires had gathered. They filled the marble floor with a low hum of chatter, whispers, and wide-eyed awe.
Then the lights dimmed.
A figure floated down from the ceiling in a swirl of starlight and energy. The air quieted in reverence.
"Welcome, first-years," spoke the voice—smooth, clear, commanding. "I am Headmaster Solren Astralis, descendant of the First Mage and Keeper of the Astral Flame."
He landed softly on the circular stage in the center of the room. White robes shimmered around him, and his beard trailed constellations as he moved.
"You have come from across the empires, from bloodlines noble and unknown. But here, none of that matters. Astralis recognizes only three things: discipline, growth, and purpose. Never forget why we've gathered—to rise above what we were and face the darkness that still shadows our world."
He raised a hand, and a three-pointed star appeared above his palm.
"You will train in three disciplines. Physical: to strengthen the vessel. Magical: to command the arcane. Literary: to understand the world and wield your knowledge."
Around the hall, shimmering projections appeared—students sparring, casting spells, debating over maps of the seven empires.
"You will be tested, pushed, broken, and rebuilt. Because Elarion is changing. And only those who adapt… survive."
There was a beat of silence. Some students swallowed. Others stood straighter.
Celeste didn't flinch.
She'd already been broken long ago. There was little left to lose.
The Headmaster flicked his wrist, and glowing cards appeared in the air, hovering down to the students.
"These are your dorm assignments. You will live in pairs, two per room, unless noted otherwise."
Celeste caught her card as it floated toward her, heart pounding.
She wasn't afraid of combat, or magic, or even the institute's brutal training.
She was afraid of proximity.
Of someone getting too close.
She unfolded the card.
Room 73-B. Shared with: Lyra Ellenvale.
She glanced around the hall, wondering who Lyra Ellenvale might be, but quickly reminded herself not to get entangled with anyone.
Across the hall, Auren Drakaris whooped as he slapped his dorm card against Kael's shoulder. "Room 49-A, Shadow boy. Looks like you're stuck with me."
Kael rolled his eyes. "Wonderful. I'll be dead from your snoring before week's end."
Nearby, Valric Drakaris wordlessly passed his card to Rhydan Valehart. The two nodded in silent understanding. Room 49-B.
As the students began to disperse toward the dorm wings, the Headmaster's voice echoed once more:
"Orientation begins tomorrow. Rest well. You'll need it."