Three weeks.
Three weeks of spine-altering, dignity-erasing, brain-rattling travel had come to an end.
We reached the outer gates of the capital at dawn, the sky still painted with strokes of violet and indigo. The city walls rose before us like the ramparts of some forgotten titan's fortress—towering, imposing, lined with flickering magelight torches that bathed the gray stone in a pale golden hue.
And then I saw them.
My eyes locked on a pair of patrolling guards on strange vehicles—familiar and yet different. Sleek, humming ever so slightly as they glided across the cobblestones like regal insects.
"Mana-Ra—wait… those are my—!"
I smacked the window's edge, pointing furiously. Tolan didn't even flinch.
"Those prototypes were only blueprints when I left! They built them? Without asking?!"
He raised an eyebrow. "You gave the Association unrestricted patent use three years ago. You said, and I quote, 'If you're going to steal my ideas anyway, at least make it official.'"
I blinked. I did say that.
"Yes, well," I mumbled, crossing my arms, "they could've at least added my initials to the front or something. Like a plaque. Or a tiny statue. Or a shrine."
Sylv, sitting beside me, tilted her head with a mischievous smile. "Oh, so you're that Elara."
I turned to her. "That…?"
"Never mind."
I squinted suspiciously.
The carriage slowed as we neared the massive wooden gate reinforced with gleaming steel bands. A line of traders, nobles, and adventurers stretched along the path, but our ornate carriage got waved straight to the front.
As we rolled to a stop, a stern-looking guard in a polished breastplate approached, expression neutral. Tolan passed him a stack of documents without a word. The guard flipped through them… then caught sight of Sylv.
And went completely white.
"I-I didn't realize—"
"Princess—"
"Shhh," Sylv interrupted, placing a single finger to her lips. Her gaze was sharp, her smile faint.
"…Of course," the guard mumbled, backing away and nearly tripping over his own feet.
Before I could ask what that was all about, we passed through the gates, entering the capital proper—and Sylv leaned out the window.
"Well, this was fun," she said, already climbing out with the grace of a dancer. A moment later, a sleek black carriage, twice the size of ours and flanked by twelve armored knights on mana-bikes, pulled up behind us.
She waved once. "See you soon, Elara!"
Then she was gone, riding off like some mysterious noble ninja.
I stared.
"…She forgot her bag," I said finally.
Tolan rolled his eyes. "She didn't forget anything. Come on. We've got an orientation to attend."
The city was… overwhelming.
Towering stone buildings with pointed rooftops, bridges crisscrossing over canals, and open marketplaces that buzzed with activity. Colorful banners flapped above merchant stalls, and the air smelled like a confusing mix of spiced bread, engine grease, and burnt mana.
But what really got me—what really bothered me—were the devices.
Everywhere I looked, there they were.
My mana-ovens, turning raw heatless flow into cookfire. My self-watering pots, neatly placed along windowsills. My cooling runes etched into tavern doors, ensuring a perfect indoor breeze.
Everywhere. Everywhere.
One child even rode a miniature version of my mana-powered bicycle past us, laughing as he nearly crashed into a fruit vendor.
I turned to Tolan, mouth dry. "How much…?"
"Hmm?"
"How much do these sell for?"
He shrugged. "Depends on the item. The mana-ovens alone generate around 300,000 royals per quarter."
"Per—wait. Wait." I clutched the side of the carriage. "Per quarter?! That's… that's…"
He began listing numbers casually, like he was reading the weather.
"The scooters are licensed to two noble families for exclusive production—roughly 1.2 million royals in royalties this year. Cooling runes, about 900k. Glowglass street lamps, which you also invented, another 500k."
My mouth opened and closed like a dying fish.
Tolan frowned at my reaction. "You know all of this."
"I knew I had patents. I didn't know I was worth more than the treasury of a small country!"
He cleared his throat. "Technically, you're the fourth wealthiest individual in the kingdom."
Silence.
"What."
"Fifth, if you count Sylv."
I leaned back against the seat, staring blankly out the window.
The fourth richest person in the kingdom.
And here I was, wearing a soot-stained tunic, smuggling my only tools into the city under a pile of books because I thought I'd be poor.
My soul quietly left my body.
We arrived at the Academy gates shortly after.
Tall stone archways framed a path lined with statues of past headmasters and magical scholars, each immortalized in heroic poses. The buildings within resembled a cross between a fortress and a palace, with tall spires, buttressed halls, and ivy-covered walls.
Students bustled about in neatly tailored uniforms—robes and vests adorned with silver embroidery, some with house crests sewn onto their sleeves. Laughter and spellfire echoed in the background as young mages practiced illusions, summoned elemental familiars, or took part in early duels.
As the carriage came to a halt, Tolan stepped out first and turned to me with a knowing expression. "Well. Here we are."
I hesitated a moment, then followed. The air was cooler here, tinged with ozone and mana.
I glanced around, wide-eyed. "So this is it…?"
He nodded, then handed me a folded uniform packet. "This is yours. Orientation starts tomorrow morning."
"Wait, what about my stuff?"
"It'll be delivered to your dormitory room this evening," he replied. "You're in Crescent Hall, third floor. Room 318."
"Oh. Okay. And you?"
"I'll be around," he said with a smile. "Once the introduction days are over, we'll catch up properly."
He turned to leave, then stopped. "Elara… try not to scare your classmates too much."
"I make no promises," I replied dryly.
He shook his head, chuckling. "It is what it is… or something."
And with that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving me at the steps of my new life.