Everywhere Dominic looked, advertisements floated. Softly glowing images and words drifting in the open air, shifting now and then. They hung between buildings, across streets, even above fountains, bright, but not blinding.
Dominic pressed himself closer to a pillar, ducking slightly as he muttered under his breath, "Okay...don't freak out...just…blend in." His fingers twitched, brushing against the smooth stone as he leaned forward to get a better look.
Parts of it looked straight out of those old clickbait history documentaries: carved stone walls, domed roofs, and archways that had clearly been built by hand. He flinched when a carriage passed overhead, its glass panels glinting in the light, and instinctively crouched lower.
People moved through it with a calm rhythm, dressed in loose robes layered over wide, baggy trousers. The fabric looked heavy but flowed easily. Some garments seemed to have pockets—at least, the way hands slipped into them suggested as much. A few garments carried faint stitched patterns near the cuffs or belts, nothing loud, just small details that felt intentional.
Dominic's eyes darted from one passerby to the next. He shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, tucking his hands closer to his chest. "I'll…just keep looking…maybe I'll spot him," he whispered, scanning the streets for any sign of the grey jumpsuit.
He tried to catch snippets of conversation, bending his ears toward passing groups, but all he heard was a chorus of sounds that seemed almost musical. Words twisted and bent like wind threading through chimes—there were consonants and vowels, but they didn't form anything he recognized.
Then, by either luck or some strange twist of fate, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The grey jumpsuit, slipping past a corner and into a nearby building, disappearing behind heavy wooden doors. Dominic's pulse spiked, he sprinted towards him.
Bursting into the building, eyes widening as the interior sprawled out in unexpected chaos. People wandered in even stranger outfits than the ones outside: shimmering fabrics, layers of vibrant cloth, boots that seemed impractical yet stylish, belts strung with tiny, glowing trinkets.
He walked slowly, scanning the hall. There was a mix of smells, heavy and pungent at times, but beneath it all was something faint, familiar—his family's mandrake plant. A twist of green, earthy scent, sharp and unmistakable. He followed it instinctively, weaving through the crowd, until a massive gathering blocked his path.
Everyone seemed to be around his age. Sixteen. Or at least all Teens. No one looked twice at him. That was good. Really good.
Then, as he squinted through the crowd, a light appeared. Not from any fixture, but in midair: a radiant, focused beam, like a stage light, hovering above the crowd on a floating hexagonal platform.
A man appeared on the platform. Snow-white hair framed his stern, angular face. Broad shoulders filled the robe he wore, which was white with golden metallic accents that shimmered even in the bright light. In his hand, he held something like a microphone, tapping it three times. On the third tap, a surge of energy rippled outward, and Dominic felt it—a vibration that threaded through the entire assembly, connecting him momentarily to every person in the room.
The man began to speak. Dominic froze. The words were English, clear and precise, yet laced with a subtle cadence, almost Nigerian, though unmistakably proper.
"I believe you've all been briefed on what you're getting into," the man said, voice strong and calm. "Briefed?", Dominic blurted before quickly clamping his mouth shut, hoping no one heard.
The man continued, "The academy will show no sympathy when it comes to ejections. Assortment's starting now. Good luck."
Before Dominic could react, the ground beneath them vanished. Once again he could feel himself plummeting, the man's voice echoed from above: "…and try not to die."
Stomach lurching and eyes wide Dominic glimpsed the students—Some floated downward serenely, eyes closed, feet crossed, hands relaxed. Others clutched at their robes, anxiety written across their faces. A few mirrored Dominic's own panic, wide-eyed and gasping. The sensation of falling was brief but brutal, ending abruptly as he felt a halt in midair, suspended by some unseen force.
A scanner glided over him, running a smooth, humming green light over his form, and then a solid passageway materialized beneath his feet, revealing a bright light at the end. He stepped through, the light shifting from harsh white to a softer, welcoming glow.
He emerged into a wider space, calm yet bright. Other students milled around, curiosity etched on their faces. In midair, thin and open, a huge screen materialized, showing the same man from before.
"You've been assigned to your schools based on attributes and special connections. Make good use of your time here. It's something you can't get back."
Dominic moved through the crowd, scanning, breathing in the mixture of scents. Then it hit him again—mandrake. That sharp, distinctive tang. He followed it, eyes narrowing.
But when he looked, he froze. This wasn't the thief. No grey jumpsuit. No shadowy, tense figure running past corners. This person looked…human. Normal, even. Standing there, casual, yet carrying that unmistakable scent of his family's plant.
Dominic knew his turmoils were far from over.
Suddenly, a wave of light rippled across the courtyard. Dominic flinched, his eyes darting around as glowing colors began to bloom on the palms of everyone nearby. Some were blue, others green, pink, red—each one bright enough to stand out even in the daylight. When Dominic lifted his own hand, an orange glow pulsed faintly from his palm, warm and steady, like embers under skin.
"What the hell…" he muttered under his breath, half in awe, half in disbelief.
Before he could think much about it, the ground began to shimmer. All across the open square, circular spots of color formed, each matching one of the glowing hues on people's hands. The massive screen in the air flickered, showing the same white-haired man from before. His voice came through clearly, calm but firm.
> "Proceed to the circle that matches your assigned color. Do not linger."
Around Dominic, students started moving, some excited, others clearly panicking. Not wanting to stick out, Dominic quickly scanned the glowing spots until he found one glowing orange. He exhaled sharply and started walking toward it, trying his best to look like he knew exactly what he was doing.
The orange circle wasn't far—just near a low stone platform. As he stepped onto it, he immediately froze. There he was. The guy with the faint mandrake scent, the one Dominic had been following earlier. The same sharp, earthy smell cut through the air again, confirming it beyond doubt.
Dominic didn't say anything. He just gave a small glance, pretending not to notice, while quietly taking in the rest of the group.
There were four others in total—including him—and one of them made Dominic's jaw nearly drop.
Standing just a few feet away was a tall, jacked, talking frog. Well, frog-man, technically. His build was almost completely human. Broad shoulders, thick arms, solid chest—but his skin was a smooth, vibrant green, and his head… yeah, that was pure cartoon amphibian. Big eyes, flat nose, wide mouth. The guy looked like he'd walked straight out of an animated fever dream.
Dominic tried not to stare, but the frog—who looked just as awkward as Dominic felt—glanced back and gave a small nod, like, yeah, I know how weird this looks.
The rest of the group were two girls.
Just as Dominic was still trying to wrap his head around the bizarre lineup, the glowing circles on the ground suddenly dimmed, their colors fading until the courtyard returned to its usual light. Then, from the direction of the academy's entrance, several figures began walking toward each color group. One of them—a tall man with a calm gait—approached the orange circle.
He looked older than most around, maybe late forties or early fifties. His black hair gradually faded into a deep, dark blue as it reached the tips, and a beard—long enough to reach his chest—hung in neat strands, tied with small black bead loops like bracelets. His robe hung loosely, but the way it settled made it clear he was still in solid shape for his age. It was a warm, creamy yellow—the kind of shade you'd compare to heated milk, but not in a bad way.
Dominic noticed immediately how similar his attire was to the man on the screen's, though a bit less flashy.
The man stopped in front of them, a small, genuine smile creasing his face.
"Welcome," he said. "My name is Aroven, though you can just call me Master Aro. I'll be the one looking after you from now on."
His voice was steady, with a hint of humor in it that instantly eased the group's tension. "Let's start with introductions," he added, folding his hands behind his back. "Names, first impressions, and all that."
The girl standing to Dominic's right stepped forward first. She was tall—taller than most girls Dominic knew, though still shorter than him and the mandrake guy. She had a caramel skin tone similar to Dominic's, which glowed warmly under the light, and her dark brown hair was braided neatly down her back. Her expression was calm, poised.
"My name's Oravi," she said evenly. Her tone carried quiet confidence, the kind that didn't need to shout to be noticed.
Next was the pale guy—the one Dominic had been tailing. He stepped forward with easy grace. He looked about 6'2, just an inch shorter than Dominic, with dark hair that fell slightly over his forehead. His clothes were simple but dark, almost monochrome. Despite his pale complexion, he looked healthy, sharp-eyed, and grounded.
"Faylune," he said, voice steady. "But you can call me Lune."
Dominic caught a faint smile tugging at the edge of his lips, and once again that faint mandrake scent drifted in the air. It was subtle but impossible to miss.
Then the second girl stepped forward. She was noticeably shorter than Oravi, with very light brown skin that was almost pale, and her hair bounced slightly as she moved. She had a spark in her eyes, the kind that screamed energy and attitude.
"Embrel, but call me Emby," she said with a small smirk, hands on her hips.
Then came the frog man. His shirt looked like it had lost a battle against his muscles—the white button-up was stretched to its absolute limit, every seam begging for mercy. The black pants and shoes were no better, but somehow, he still managed to look tidy.
He gave a small, awkward cough before speaking.
"Uh, name's Rhojen, but...everyone calls me Rhoj."
His voice was surprisingly deep—friendly, too. He scratched the back of his neck as he spoke, clearly self-conscious.
Dominic had to fight the urge to laugh—not at him, but at the sheer randomness of it all. Man, people here really like shortening their names, he thought. Then again, we do that back home too.
Now it was his turn.
Dominic cleared his throat, forcing his nerves down. "My name's Dominic. Dominic Kanu," he said simply.
Master Aro gave a nod of approval. "Good. Glad to have all of you here. You'll be spending a lot of time together, so get used to each other's faces," he said, smiling again. "Now, let's get you settled. Follow me—I'll escort you to your quarters."
"Quarters?" Dominic thought, raising an eyebrow.
Master Aro turned toward a nearby wall—just a blank, polished surface of stone—and raised one hand. With a smooth wave, the entire section of the wall shifted, glowing faintly before transforming into a massive doorway that opened on its own.
Dominic blinked. "Okay," he muttered under his breath. "That would've been impressive…about an hour ago."
The others chuckled softly as they followed Master Aro through the opening.
Inside, the passage led into a long hall lined with warm lights and soft textures. It opened into a wide, luxurious space filled with clean furniture, hanging lanterns, and soft rugs that looked way too fancy for a "school dorm."
Master Aro turned toward them, gesturing with both hands like a proud craftsman showing off his work. "Your living quarters," he said warmly. "Built specifically for your group. Just finished them, actually."
Dominic blinked again. "You just made all this?"
Master Aro smiled. "SoulCraft makes for fine construction."
Dominic's head tilted slightly. "SoulCraft?" he repeated under his breath. He wanted to ask—badly—but decided against it. Whatever that meant, he probably wasn't ready for the explanation anyway.
He exhaled and shrugged it off.
Dominic let out a low whistle, scratching the back of his head as he stepped inside. The air even smelled nice—fresh, like the scent after a good rain. "Well," he thought, looking around, "maybe staying here for a day or two won't be that bad."
Oravi walked past him, already scanning the place like she was mapping it out. Emby dropped her bag on a couch and flopped down dramatically. Rhoj carefully sat on the edge of a chair, trying not to break it. Lune stood by the window, quiet but thoughtful.
Dominic took one last look around, exhaling slowly.
For a moment, he let himself breathe. The air was nice, the light softer here, and he allowed a bit of calm to settle in—just enough to think that maybe he could handle this.
But beneath that calm, unease lingered. He was still in a world he didn't understand, surrounded by people who didn't even speak his language a few hours ago. He still hadn't figured out what connection there was between Lune—the guy with the mandrake scent—and the figure who'd stolen the plant in the first place. And every second he spent here was another minute closer to his mum realizing he never made it to boarding school.
Dominic rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the others settling in.
Yeah. Relief or not, he wasn't staying here forever. He had to find a way back.