Saint High.
The most prestigious academy in the nation — a fortress of knowledge where the brightest minds and strongest mages gather. The massive campus sat on the side of a gleaming crystal lake, with marble towers that touched the clouds and banners fluttering proudly in the morning breeze. Every hallway, every courtyard, every blade of grass seemed to hum faintly with mana. This was a place where dreams turned into research papers and spells became legends.
And this year, among the new students stepping into this world of brilliance and rivalry... was Ragnar Wryd.
At the Wryd household, chaos reigned supreme.
"Merlin, you should've woken me up earlier! Now I'm late on my first day!" Ragnar shouted, tugging on his uniform jacket while hopping on one foot trying to get his boot on.
Merlin — half-dressed, hair a mess, and clearly running on zero sleep — shot him a glare that could kill a god.
"Don't test me, Ragnar. You do remember who stayed up all night calming your 'what-if-I-I'm-not-good enough-to-attend-there' panic attack?"
Ragnar froze mid-motion. "...Right, that might've been on me."
"Might've?" Merlin barked, tossing a spellbook into his bag.
After a beat, Ragnar blinked. "Wait... did you wake up Lilly?"
Merlin froze, eyes widening in pure horror.
"I—forgot!!!"
She bolted down the hallway, hair flying behind her, only to skid to a stop at Lilly's door.
Inside, the young girl was already dressed in a neat uniform, braids perfectly tied, calmly sipping tea at her desk.
"Oh—! You're ready?" Merlin gasped, panting.
Lilly smiled sweetly. "One of the maids woke me up, Miss Merlin. You looked tired last night, so I didn't want to bother you."
Merlin put a hand to her chest, relief flooding through her. "You're an angel, Lilly... a literal angel."
---
Not long after, Ragnar stood outside the grand gates of Saint High Academy, his heart pounding with excitement. The gates themselves were massive, engraved with runes that shimmered faintly, and beyond them lay a sprawling courtyard filled with students in polished uniforms and enchanted luggage floating behind them.
Some students whispered spells under their breath to levitate books. Others summoned familiars or flexed magical energy just to show off.
But Ragnar? He was just standing there, bag slung over his shoulder, a nervous smile tugging at his lips.
That's when a familiar voice called out.
"Hey! Ragnar!"
He turned to see Light sprinting toward him, waving wildly. His white coat flapped behind him, the faint glow of mana pulsing through the runes etched on his sleeves.
Ragnar grinned, raising a hand. "Light! You're early for once!"
Light skidded to a stop beside him, grinning. "Can't be late on the first day — that's your thing."
Ragnar rolled his eyes. "Ha-ha. Where are the Voldric twins?"
"They'll be here soon," Light said, glancing toward the path lined with blooming mana-lilies.
Sure enough, after a few minutes of chatting, Alys and Magna Voldric appeared — the twin prodigies of the south, walking side by side. Magna waved first, his grin wide as ever.
"Yo! Light! Yo Ragnar! Been a while!"
Alys followed behind, adjusting her gloves. "You two look like you're already up to no good."
Light crossed his arms, smirking. "What can I say? Great minds attract trouble."
Ragnar chuckled. "Or maybe trouble attracts us."
Magna laughed loudly. "That too!"
---
As the four stood together, a hush rippled through the nearby students. Whispers spread like wildfire.
"Wait… that's Ragnar Wryd, the one who scored perfect on the theoretical mana exam."
"And that's Light, the prince of the Excalibur bloodline…"
"The Voldric twins too? The heirs of the Lightning Spire?"
"Holy crap, the top four freshmen all know each other?!"
A group of second-years stared, jaws practically on the floor. Even a few upperclassmen watching from the balcony muttered among themselves.
"Talk about an overpowered friend group," one whispered.
"They're either gonna rewrite history… or blow up the campus."
Light, hearing the murmurs, leaned toward Ragnar with a smirk. "Looks like we're already famous."
Ragnar sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Great. First day and we're already a sideshow."
Alys folded her arms, eyes glinting. "Then let's give them a reason to keep watching."
The four of them turned toward the gates together as they slowly opened, bathed in golden light — the start of their new journey at Saint High.
The training grounds of Saint High shimmered faintly under a dome of blue mana. Rings of glowing sigils hovered above the field as students sat cross-legged, focusing on their breathing.
Lilia, the instructor — young, calm, and dangerously talented — stood at the center with a staff of polished whitewood. Her eyes glowed faintly, reflecting the flow of mana around the class.
"Alright, class," she began, voice soft yet commanding. "Today, we're working on mana control. Most of you can feel mana… but controlling it, guiding it through your body with precision, that's another level."
She glanced across the group — Light already radiating a faint golden aura, Magna accidentally making sparks fly from his fingertips, Alys with perfect posture and focus… and Ragnar, standing awkwardly at the back.
Lilia's gaze lingered on him. "Ragnar, you're sitting this one out."
Ragnar blinked. "Wait—what? Why?"
"Because your mana levels are already unstable. You have too much mana to safely practice control drills," she said plainly. "Instead, I want you focusing on output. You need to learn how to release your mana without causing a mana surge."
A few students turned their heads, whispering.
"Too much mana?"
"Is that even a thing?"
Ragnar scratched his head, embarrassed. "It's not like I'm trying to explode…"
Lilia smiled faintly. "Exactly why you're working alone today. Take that target dummy and try releasing mana gradually."
Ragnar sighed, moving to the far end of the field. He lifted his palm, letting blue energy swirl between his fingers — it crackled violently, causing the ground to tremble.
"Easy…" he muttered to himself. "Small output… small…"
A boom erupted, smoke filling the air.
Lilia pinched the bridge of her nose. "...Ragnar, I said gradually."
Light burst out laughing. "He just can't help it!"
"Shut it, Light!" Ragnar yelled through the smoke.
Lilia sighed. "At least he's consistent."
The next class was held in one of Saint High's oldest lecture halls — towering stone walls covered in ancient runes that pulsed faintly with blue light. Floating quills hovered above desks, scribbling notes as the students prepared for one of the more theory-heavy classes of the day.
At the front stood Professor Eidren, a tall, silver-haired man whose calm voice carried easily through the room. His eyes gleamed behind crystal lenses as he gestured to a floating orb of light.
"Welcome to Mana History 101. Today, we begin with the Origin of Flow — the birth of mana itself."
With a motion of his hand, the orb expanded, showing an ancient world consumed by chaotic streams of energy.
"Long before humans learned to cast spells, mana existed as pure chaos — wild and untamed. It flowed freely through every creature and stone. When the first Ancients learned to breathe mana, not resist it, they brought balance to the world. From them came the great bloodlines — Excalibur, Voldric, and many others who still carry their legacy."
Alys raised her hand, her voice clear. "Professor, is it true that some of those bloodlines still have the ability to channel mana more naturally than others?"
"Indeed," Eidren said, pacing slowly across the stage. "The Excalibur line, for instance, inherited light affinity. The Voldrics — lightning. Others specialized in unique traits, like mana absorption or amplification."
He paused, looking toward Ragnar. "Even those without pure lineage can develop extraordinary affinities through training… or, in rare cases, mutation."
Ragnar blinked. "Mutation?"
Eidren nodded. "Yes. When mana interacts with a vessel too strong or too unstable, it evolves the body to adapt. Your case, for example — your mana density far exceeds normal human limits. It's unusual, but not unheard of."
Ragnar rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "So… it's not because of my 'family'?"
The professor smiled faintly. "No, Mr. Wryd. Bloodlines give potential, not destiny. Your magic is your own — regardless of where you come from."
The class fell quiet for a moment. Some students whispered, others exchanged curious looks. Light leaned back in his chair, whispering,
"Guess that settles it — you're just built different, Ragnar."
Ragnar groaned. "Thanks, Light. Super helpful."
Eidren chuckled softly. "Remember, class — understanding mana's past helps shape its future. Whether you're born into power or forge it yourself, what matters most… is control."
With that, the lights dimmed and the holographic orb dispersed into glowing fragments of energy. The bell chimed softly — class dismissed.
As everyone began to pack up, Alys smiled at Ragnar. "See? You didn't need a noble bloodline to stand out."
Ragnar grinned. "Yeah, but it'd be nice if mine didn't almost blow up the training field every time I breathe."
Light laughed. "That's your charm, bro."
The outdoor combat arena buzzed with energy. Rows of students stood with training swords while the instructor, a tall, scarred man named Instructor Vael, barked orders.
"Listen up! Magic's useless if your body can't keep up! Today we're learning Spell Integration — how to weave your spells through your weapon without frying your hands!"
Ragnar stood next to Light, sword resting on his shoulder.
Light grinned. "Finally, something I'm good at."
"Cocky as always," Magna muttered, channeling lightning into his blade. Sparks danced across the metal.
Vael walked past, inspecting their forms. "Voldric twins — good synchronization. Excalibur — too flashy. Wryd…"
He stopped by Ragnar. "You're… leaking mana again."
Ragnar looked down to see his sword glowing way too bright. "Uh, that's bad, right?"
"Unless you want to vaporize your weapon — yes," Vael said flatly.
He moved aside. "Focus your mana along the edge, not the core. Think of it like sharpening a blade with energy."
Ragnar nodded, steadying his breath. Blue mana slowly wrapped around his sword — this time stable, calm, balanced. The aura shimmered faintly instead of flaring.
Light whistled. "Hey… not bad."
Ragnar smirked. "Guess I'm learning."
Vael crossed his arms, approving. "Good. Control isn't about how much power you have, but how well you use it. Remember that."
The bell rang soon after, signaling the end of class. The group sheathed their swords, sweat on their brows but smiles on their faces.
Magna stretched. "Man, first week and I already feel like I've aged ten years."
Alys rolled her eyes. "That's because you don't study."
Light laughed. "Nah, it's because we hang around Ragnar. The guy's a walking mana bomb."
Ragnar gave him a playful shove. "Keep talking, Light — I'll make sure you glow next time."
They all laughed as the sun began to set behind the academy's towers — their first week at Saint High just beginning, but already filled with lessons, chaos, and the spark of something far greater.