When Adrien returned from Elemental Hall to the dorm, the sky had already turned into a pale violet.
The Academy's hallways were quieter at night — less noise, less magic, more shadows. He paced slowly, mind full, body coiled.
His fingers still buzzed lightly from the lightning thrown. He could sense it now — not merely the spell, but the drain. The limit. How close he'd gotten to draining his core with one simple use.
'If that was the entry test, I'm behind. No point pretending otherwise.'
He shut the door softly behind him in his room. The stillness inside was stifling but cozy.
Put his coat over the chair. Kicked his boots off. Collapsed onto the bed.
[Day One Status: Survived. Ego: Damaged. Reputation: Nonexistent.]
'I'm not here to impress anyone.'
[No. Just not dying. Which you're doing. well enough.]
Adrien groaned, rolling over onto his back, arms stretched above his head as he glared up at the ceiling.
Lightning affinity. Mid-range copper core. Mana capacity just enough for one good spell. No formal spellcrafting. No duel history. No friends.
'But here I am. And that's a beginning.'
Sleep carried him away sooner than anticipated.
No dreams. Just black.
⟢ The Next Morning ⟣
A soft, high bell rang out over the walls — pure and musical. Not a harsh alarm, but a bell that let everyone know the Academy wasn't going to start the day with students sleeping.
Adrien slowly sat up.
Outside, pale gray clouds covered the sky. The air at the window smelled of cold stone and faraway trees. His uniform was freshly pressed where he'd left it — the navy jacket still crisp, silver piping still sharp.
He quickly got dressed, tightly lacing his boots and grabbing his notes.
His very first academic subject: Mana Theory and Arcane Principles.
Not flashy. No sparring with the elements. Just the course most students attempted to sleep through.
But Adrien wasn't most students.
He was already behind. And he knew it.
The Academic Wing was distinct from the Academy itself.
Where the halls of training thundered and the fields of dueling snapped with power, this location lay quiet. Regulated. Dense with ancient knowledge.
Large glass windows allowed pale light to drop across patterned marble floors. Mysterious sigils floated above doorway arches. Background magic hummed more strongly here — less obvious, but richer.
Adrien found Lecture Room 3A and entered just as the second bell was ringing.
The room was cut in a gentle curve, broad steps curving half-rings around a lighted slate circle at the center. Dozens of students already sat. Some writing notes. Some talking. Some gazing straight ahead as if their titles were more vital than the lesson.
Adrien was settled near the edge, third row. Not too near. Not too far.
The doors opened softly a moment later.
In came a woman in gloves stained with ink and under one arm a scroll too many.
She wouldn't quit.
Did not greet.
She simply placed the scrolls on the lectern, touched the glowing slate briefly, and faced them.
"I am Instructor Mara Lennox," she announced. "This is Mana Theory and Arcane Principles. If you're in search of adventures, you're in the wrong building. If you're in search of survival skills, well, congratulations — you're still alive."
A few students giggled. Most were silent.
Adrien opened his notebook.
[She has a good sense of humor. This will be dangerous.]
Let us start with a question, Lennox continued. "What is mana?
Silence.
She arched an eyebrow.
Then, spontaneously, one of the students in the front row raised her hand.
"Mana is raw power drawn from the leylines of nature around us, shaped by will and inner affinity," the boy explained — pale, clean-cut, pin on his collar. Noble. Confident. Polished.
Lennox smiled weakly. "Cyril Auren. Of course.".
Adrien blinked.
'Of course it's him.'
"Textbook response," said Lennox. "Right. Also beside the point. Anyone else?"
She looked around. No hands.
"Mana," she said, pointing to her head, "is you. It's your instincts. Your anger. Your hope. Your fear. It's the way the world reacts to what you think you can do."
She hesitated.
"Your core doesn't hold energy. It responds to the state of your mind. Your concentration. Your self-control. That's why unstable emotions can slay a mage quicker than a blade."
That's… not the way they say it in the ones I remember.
[Because books don't like it when we talk about why their authors exploded.]
For the rest of the hour, Lennox moved from topic to topic: core saturation, channel resistance, and maintaining control through will, rather than force.
No flashy spells.
No glowing weapons.
Just raw, valuable truth.
Adrien wrote down notes until his fingers ached.
And still, he did not stop.
The moment class was over, Lennox yelled:
Tomorrow, we will be working on elemental alignment and resonance backlash. If you have absolutely no concept of what that is, wear a spare shirt.
Some students laughed.
Cyril didn't.
Adrien rose to go. Cyril glanced up at him for a moment — not unfriendly. Just noting his presence.
Don't want to fight. Good. Because I'm not ready. However.