Threads of wind slipped through the crystal glass, carrying with them the chill of the clouds below.
The Headmaster's Tower drifted quietly in the air — slowly revolving around Astra's radiant core, so high that the clouds seemed nothing more than silver mist clinging to its base.
Inside the domed chamber at the top, Headmaster Solomon stood with his back to a long obsidian table, hands clasped behind him.
Hundreds of floating Ether crystals glowed above, scattering moving streaks of gold across the marble floor — as if stars had chosen to rest here, just for a while.
His deep violet cloak shimmered at the edges, trimmed with silver thread that swayed gently in the air.
His voice resonated — calm and sonorous, like the toll of a distant bell.
"Are we all here?"
A woman near the end of the table inclined her head slightly.
Her voice was light, yet clear, the sound of metal brushing crystal.
"Yes, Headmaster. Everyone's present."
That was Professor Elara Vynn — her crimson hair catching the gold light in loose waves, her eyes a sharp, oceanic blue that hinted at both brilliance and danger.
Her silver-trimmed cloak shimmered faintly as she rested a pale hand on a staff of translucent crystal engraved with violet runes.
Solomon nodded and turned.
"Then let's begin."
He walked toward the table, each step echoing softly across the floor.
"Professor Vynn — you will take Basic Spellcraft. Teach the new students how to channel Ether… without setting their hair on fire."
Elara smiled — half graceful, half warning.
"Don't worry, Headmaster. If they refuse to learn, I'll make sure they do glow — quite literally."
A ripple of laughter moved around the table.
Across from her, Professor Halden Marr let out a raspy chuckle, his long silver beard trembling.
He wore a crooked, pointed hat and a dark indigo robe covered in rune dust. In front of him sat a pile of enormous books bound with worn leather — each one heavy enough to sink a small star.
Solomon turned to him with a faint smile.
"And you, Professor Marr — Introductory Cosmology, as always.
Let's hope your students this year stay awake past your opening lecture."
Halden grinned, his eyes twinkling.
"Last year I shortened it to eight minutes, Headmaster. Progress, wouldn't you say?"
Elara laughed behind her hand. Solomon only sighed, shaking his head in quiet amusement.
Beside them sat a young man — Professor Kael Drayen.
Short black hair, eyes the color of frozen steel, and a composure so still it seemed deliberate.
He wore a black cloak lined with blue runes and gloves of the same weave.
Before him floated a small sphere of condensed dark energy, humming faintly — like metal breathing.
"Professor Drayen," Solomon said with a raised brow, "Matter and Dark Energy Basics remain yours.
Just… try not to blow up the lower halls this time."
Kael's lips curved slightly — a cool, unreadable smirk.
"That minor explosion? I'd call it… an experiential demonstration."
Elara arched a brow.
"And the lingering ozone smell for two weeks?"
Kael replied evenly,
"True learning always leaves a scorch mark."
Solomon chuckled, a trace of resignation beneath his smile.
Then his eyes settled on the last figure seated quietly at the far end of the table.
The air itself seemed to soften around him.
Remiel, Archangel.
His silver hair fell to his shoulders, and a faint shimmer of folded light — wings, barely visible — traced behind him.
He wore a simple white robe, no ornament, no need.
When he turned his head slightly, the calm within his gaze silenced the entire room.
Solomon spoke more slowly now, his voice lowering.
"And you, Remiel…
An Archangel of the Radiant Court, choosing a post with low pay and tiresome hours…
I must admit, I'm curious — why?"
Remiel's lips curved in a quiet smile, gentle enough to bend the light toward him.
"Headmaster Solomon," he replied, his voice smooth as wind over glass,
"Everything that exists has its reason.
Even the smallest of things."
Solomon studied him for a moment — then returned the smile, faint and knowing.
"Then you'll be teaching Fundamentals of Soulcraft.
A fitting choice, I'd say."
"A privilege," Remiel murmured.
The room hushed.
The Ether crystals above flickered softly — as if agreeing.
Solomon leaned forward, his tone deepening.
"Three days from now, the new term begins.
Prepare well — for we are not merely teaching knowledge.
We are shaping those who will decide the future of the Light."
Elara nodded solemnly.
Halden began gathering his tomes.
Kael closed his palm, extinguishing the dark orb.
Remiel said nothing, eyes turned to the window — where the golden clouds coiled around Astra's radiant core.
Solomon gave a small gesture.
"You may all rest now. And please… try not to let the students blow off the ceiling this year."
Elara grinned.
"No promises, Headmaster."
Their footsteps echoed down the spiral stairway, fading into the silence.
When the doors closed, Solomon remained still, gazing at the glass beyond.
The Ether light reflected across his spectacles — one lens glowing gold, the other shadowed in black.
"What is your reason, Remiel?"
he whispered into the quiet.
"And can light truly remain pure…
if it exists only to conceal the dark?"
Far below, a flash of violet light streaked through the sky — fleeting, like a signal.
Solomon turned slightly, the faintest curve forming at the corner of his mouth.
The game in Astra, it seemed,
had just begun.