The forest shimmered with life.
Ares blinked as his vision steadied. The world around him stretched vast and unreal — a sea of people scattered between the ancient trees, their voices blending into a soft, restless hum. The forest canopy arched high above like a living cathedral, its branches glimmering faintly with mana.
There were beings of every kind here — some with translucent skin and veins of light, others with bark growing across their shoulders or vines twisting through their hair. A few had wings that shimmered like glass; others bore scales or horns or feathers. Some were clearly human, some not at all, and most were something in between.
He saw elves with silver irises, dwarves with gem-studded beards, orcs whose skin bore carved runes that pulsed faintly like molten veins. Even a few beings made entirely of shifting light or mist drifted at the edges of the gathering, their outlines fading in and out of view.
It was a gathering of magicians — every one of them radiating power in some form or another.
Ares could see that power clearly. His eyes, dark and depthless, seemed to draw in the light itself. Through them, the world shimmered with hidden structure — threads of mana layered through air, earth, and living flesh.
All around, invisible to most, drifted Freylings — soft, formless beings of raw mana. They floated like dust caught in sunlight, clinging briefly to those who radiated strong emotion before dissolving again into the air.
But among them, Ares caught sight of something else.Here and there, flashes of intent — intelligent mana beings, formless like the Freylings but far more aware. They darted through the crowd, twisting the air, tugging faintly at hair or cloth, playing harmless tricks on the magicians below. They reminded him of Astro, though these lacked shape or body, only glimmers of thought skitting around like kids
He blinked and drew in a slow breath. No one else seemed to notice them.
Around him, the crowd stirred — thousands of beings scattered across the clearing, their movements filling the air with a low, constant hum. Some looked lost and anxious, others calm and familiar with what was happening. Those who already knew each other had begun forming small groups, clinging to any sense of familiarity.
Ares drifted closer to a nearby cluster — mostly humans, with a few elves and dwarves mixed in.
The elf beside him — tall, pale-haired, with eyes like liquid gold — turned briefly his way. A faint glow hovered over his chest, shaping the letters of a name.Talan.
To his other side stood a broad-shouldered dwarf woman, her beard plaited neatly with golden rings, her amber eyes bright with curiosity. Her name flickered faintly before his eyes: Bruna.
"Is it the badge?" Ares looked down and found his name floating infront of him.
One of the humans, a sharp-eyed boy with sandy hair, gave a nervous grin and offered a quick nod.Gareth.
They exchanged brief greetings — awkward, uncertain — the kind of talk born from shared confusion. Some laughed softly, trying to shake off their nerves; others whispered theories about what was coming next.
Then, all at once, the forest began to hum.
The air thickened with power.
A voice echoed from somewhere unseen — deep, clear, and resonant enough to shake the leaves."Initiates of the First Moon, You will soon be teleported to your clasess. So brace yourself and ddon't resist the pull of the portal."
Before Ares could even turn toward the sound, the ground beneath him erupted in white light. The hum deepened, the air folding and twisting — and in a heartbeat, the forest vanished.
When Ares opened his eyes again, he was standing on a white stone platform high above the clouds.
The air around him shimmered faintly, held by a warm, invisible barrier. Outside it, the wind screamed — cold, furious, strong enough to rip the breath from his lungs — but inside, it was still and quiet.
He walked to the edge and looked down. Far below, the forest looked like moss spread over the earth. The pillar rose so high it almost hurt to look over.
"What kind of class is this? " Ares shivered at thought of falling down from here.
Other students stood nearby, some gasping, others staring wide-eyed at the endless sky. The platform itself was wide, smooth, and faintly glowing. Near the center, there were tables stacked with bread and fruit, water flasks, and a few crates that looked like sleeping quarters.
Ares heard murmurs around him — relief, confusion, and fear all tangled together. Then, the air rippled again, and a figure appeared at the center of the platform.
The being that materialized wasn't human.A Djinn He was made of fire that gave no light, his body flickering in and out of form, his eyes two dark orbs of flame. When he spoke, his voice was deep and steady, carrying easily across the platform.
"I will be leading your first class," he said. "You may call me Instructor Ra'f."
He lifted his hand, and a swirl of sand rose from the stone beneath him. "You are all familiar with the concept of mana," he said with a certainity that left little else to be discussed. "It is everything around us. For modern magicians, it rests within your mana center — your core. It is precious resources. Today you would be learning how to use it efefctivetly."
He pressed his fingers together, and the sand condensed into a thin, fragile thin line of stone. "Most of you waste it. Too much mana for something simple." The line cracked and fell apart.
"The first thing you need to learn," he continued, "is efficiency. This weave requires only ten motes of mana. It will give you a single, weak thread. But if you layer it again, and again—" He moved his hand, weaving the same pattern repeatedly. The threads merged, thickened, and formed a slab of stone about a meter wide jutting from the platform. "—you can create something far stronger. It is simple an efficent. Its the uitlity of how you use a certain weave makes a differnce"
He looked at the slab, then back at them. "This tower was built from that same weave. Your task is to replicate this weave, modify it, and make it your own. Then, scale down."
There was a pause before someone in the crowd snorted. A rune-covered orc raised his arm, grinning. "We can just teleport down, can't we?"
The instructor's black eyes didn't move. "You are free to do so."
The orc smirked and began muttering an incantation. The air shimmered faintly, then went still. He tried again, his voice louder. The same result — nothing.
The instructor ignored him and went on. "The best course would be using this weave. But you may do as you wish."
Another voice spoke — soft, like wind through reeds. It came from a being of light standing near the back. "How far is it to the bottom?"
"50 kilometers," the instructor said. "Your classes will begin when you reach the ground.."
A quiet murmur passed through the group.
The djinn turned his gaze upward, then snapped his fingers. The protective barrier around them vanished. The wind roared in, sharp and brutal. Ares stumbled back, nearly losing his footing. The cold bit into his skin like knives. Others screamed. Then, just as suddenly, the barrier returned, sealing them in silence once more.
"That," the instructor said, "is what awaits you outside this shield. Study the weave. Take your time. Be careful with the wind. No need to hurry. Food and lodging have been provided for you. There is no time limit"
His voice softened, almost fading. "Your task begins now."
The djinn's form blurred and vanished like smoke.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then the chaos began.
Students clustered together, whispering hurriedly. A group of dwarves started layering slabs to form a ramp, while others tried shaping ropes out of mana and stone. The moment they extended them beyond the barrier, the wind caught them — snapping them, slamming them against the pillar's edge.
Someone screamed as a rope broke, and a student fell. His voice echoed into the storm below — until, in a blink, he reappeared on the platform, gasping and trembling.
The laughter stopped. No one spoke.
Ares stood still, watching, his black eyes reflecting the endless clouds below.He finally understood — this was not a lesson in spellwork.It was a lesson in survival.