Elara woke up with a groan.
Not because she was physically tired — her body felt fine, surprisingly well-rested even — but because she knew what was coming.
Uniforms.
Orientation.
Social interaction.
And worst of all... smiling.
"Ugh," she muttered, dragging herself up in bed. Her shared dorm room was filled with the soft golden light of morning sun, filtering in through sheer curtains. Lyria was already awake, somehow cheerful and humming while brushing her hair in front of the mirror.
"Good morning!" Lyria beamed at her, eyes wide and awake like a puppy expecting a treat.
Elara blinked. "You're... entirely too functional for this hour."
"Breakfast is in twenty minutes! Come on, you don't want to miss the first day, do you?"
Elara mumbled something about skipping straight to retirement and flopped back down on her pillow.
The uniform still felt like a personal insult.
Every movement made her hyper-aware of the way the fabric clung, shifted, emphasized. She didn't need a mirror to know she stood out — she could feel the stares already, even if they hadn't started yet.
Lyria whistled. "Wow. You clean up real nice."
Elara tugged at the hem of the skirt, cheeks burning. "I look like a themed waitress in a creepy nobles-only cafe."
"You look like someone who's about to ace all her classes and then invent something that changes the world," Lyria countered.
Elara groaned. "That is not helping."
The entrance hall was already swarming with students when they arrived. The crowd was a churning mix of uniforms, chatter, and the occasional magical spark that drifted through the air like a wayward firefly.
Elara did her best to stay near the edge, using Lyria as a buffer — a strategy that failed instantly.
The moment she stepped into the open, a group of boys approached. They were smiling, trying to look casual, but their eyes kept darting to her.
"Uh, hi," said one of them, taller than the rest. "You're new, right? I'm Kalven."
Elara blinked. "Yes. I'm... new."
"Do you maybe want to—"
Whatever he wanted was lost to the sudden arrival of three girls who seemingly materialized out of thin air.
"Aww, look at her, she's so tiny!" one of them cooed, grabbing Elara's arm.
"Are you in the magic track or the tech track? Or both?"
"You have the softest hair. Is that natural?"
Elara was momentarily paralyzed. What is happening? She'd prepared for mockery, disdain, even rivalry — not... whatever this was.
Lyria laughed beside her. "Told you. You're a walking mystery in a cute package."
Somehow, by what Elara could only assume was divine punishment for past sins, she made it to the auditorium late.
She had three minutes to cross a wide courtyard filled with chatting students.
She wasn't going to make it. Not without—
"No. No way," she muttered.
But she did it anyway.
With an awkward toss of her hair (that she immediately regretted), and a nervous smile that felt like it had been stapled to her face, she waved slightly and moved through the crowd.
The effect was instantaneous.
Students parted like butter before a hot knife. Smiles bloomed. Doors were held open. She didn't so much arrive as glide.
Inside, she collapsed into a seat, face burning, internally screaming.
I cannot believe I just used feminine charm. What have I become?
The Headmaster took the stage moments later. He was an older man with a long white beard, piercing eyes, and the kind of voice that could silence a hurricane.
"Welcome, students. Today you begin a new chapter in your lives."
His speech was formal, inspirational, and carefully non-specific — until it wasn't.
"Innovation is the soul of progress. We stand here today, in a time of unparalleled discovery, because of brilliant minds who dared to question the old ways. One such mind, our very own Master Tolan, and his remarkable disciple..."
Elara froze.
"...a young prodigy whose name has been whispered across kingdoms. Through their work, the field of magitech has advanced more in the last three years than in the last thirty."
No one turned. No heads swiveled. Elara remained just another face in the crowd — and that was a mercy.
The Headmaster smiled. "To whomever this brilliant student may be — you are always welcome here."
Elara slouched even deeper into her seat, cheeks burning for reasons no one could guess.
The rest of the day was worse.
They were split into groups for a guided tour. Elara was grouped with Lyria and a handful of others. Their guide — a chipper upperclassman with too much energy and an enchanted name tag that read "TESSA" — clapped her hands to get their attention.
"Alright, newbies! Follow me, and try not to wander off unless you want to get hexed by the Library Warden. That was a joke. Mostly."
Despite the Academy being a hub of modern magitech research, the majority of its structure was surprisingly traditional. There were few actual enchantments — aside from safety wards and comfort runes — and most classrooms, buildings, and halls resembled those of a classic medieval institution. Stone corridors, wooden benches, old iron lamps. If one ignored the occasional crystal-powered lantern or mana-inscribed slate, it could have been a noble's academy from centuries ago.
In fact, the only real signs of modern magitech were familiar: small conveniences that Elara herself had introduced to the world. A self-scribing board here. A rune-powered fan there. Her inventions — subtly integrated — but clearly standing out against the otherwise archaic backdrop.
First stop: Training Grounds.
The open field sprawled wider than Elara had expected, covered in finely trimmed grass, padded sparring zones, and obstacle courses. A few groups were already training — running drills, lifting weights, practicing formations. It was all very... physical.
"Here's where we build those muscles and learn not to trip over our own feet," Tessa announced. "And yes, magic users are expected to sweat too."
Elara winced at the idea of mandatory cardio.
Second: Weapon Arena.
They entered a round building with an open-air roof and stone seating all around. The arena itself was hard-packed dirt, bordered by wooden rails and a few battered dummies.
"This is where we practice with actual weapons. Yes, we have healers on standby. No, you can't challenge your roommate on day one."
Tessa shot Lyria a meaningful glance for no reason Elara could identify. Lyria grinned like it had been a suggestion.
Third: Archery and Projectile Range.
This was split between wooden targets on straw stands and a small field cleared for spell casting. There were a few bullseye boards with scorch marks, and what looked suspiciously like a broken fence from a misfired bolt.
"Accuracy matters," Tessa chirped. "And so does responsibility. Please don't set the hedges on fire. Again."
Elara briefly imagined installing adjustable-range auto-targeting golems — and then forced the thought away.
Fourth: Lecture Halls.
They entered one of the stone buildings and stepped into a wide, sloped room with long benches, a raised dais, and a slate board mounted at the front.
No glowing crystals. No levitating pens. Just chalk. And dust.
"We take notes the old-fashioned way here," Tessa said proudly. "Except in the labs. There you're allowed to bring your own tech — if it's stable."
Elara sighed. That's a big if.
Fifth: Magical Laboratories.
Now this was more promising.
The labs were structured like workshops, filled with wooden tables, storage cabinets, and the occasional magically shielded experiment alcove. But the tools were basic. Very basic.
"This is where you'll conduct magical experiments and rune research. Most equipment has to be signed out. Any accidents must be logged. If you blow a hole in the floor, expect paperwork."
Elara perked up slightly when she noticed a modified engraving arm she recognized — one of her own early prototypes.
"Some of this equipment is recent donation," Tessa added, almost offhandedly.
Donation, huh? Elara raised an eyebrow.
Sixth: Cafeteria.
They reached the mess hall, a large open space with stone flooring, long tables, and an open hearth where a few large pots bubbled. Students were already lining up for lunch.
"Meals are provided. If you have special dietary needs, you'll need to inform the kitchen clerks. And yes, seconds are allowed."
Elara picked up a modest serving — vegetable soup, a slice of bread, and a cup of tea. Lyria, predictably, had a mountain of food and zero shame.
Seventh: Administrative Building.
They didn't go inside — just stood outside the heavy double doors.
"This is where you go when things go wrong, or when you want to file a formal request. Don't get lost. It's worse than the library."
Eighth: Library.
They entered a tall, narrow building filled with wooden shelves, old scrolls, and thick volumes. A single enchanted lantern hung from the ceiling, casting golden light.
The air smelled of parchment, dust, and quiet expectation.
"This is the Archive. Books may not leave the premises. Some shelves are restricted — ask before touching anything glowing or locked."
Elara could've stayed there forever.
Ninth: Meditation Gardens.
A small enclosed courtyard with gravel paths, carefully arranged stones, and a few benches. A tiny fountain bubbled softly in the center.
No magic, just silence.
Tessa let them sit for five minutes, then clapped again. "Reflection time is over. Back to being productive!"
Tenth: Dormitories.
They returned to the dormitory towers, and Tessa pointed to the numbered sections.
"Each of you should already know your assignment. Rooms are shared unless you filed for private quarters. Don't try to switch without paperwork."
By the time the tour ended, Elara was exhausted.
Her feet ached. Her cheeks hurt from forced politeness. Her mind was a storm of confusion, impressions, and unprocessed embarrassment.
Back in their room, she dropped face-first onto her bed.
"That was... a lot."
Lyria flopped down next to her. "You think? I counted six people who tried to flirt with you, and at least ten girls who tried to figure out your skincare routine."
"I don't even have a skincare routine."
"Exactly! That's why it's so powerful!"
Elara groaned. "How am I going to survive this place?"
Lyria grinned. "One awkward day at a time."
And for once, Elara wasn't sure if that was a threat or a promise.