Madame Everett led the trio through the Academy corridors with quick, precise steps. Her heels echoed against the polished marble floor, creating an almost hypnotic rhythm.
As they climbed the main staircases of the administrative building, Logan couldn't help but admire the imposing architecture around him.
The main building of Aldaria Academy of Magic was a majestic structure combining classical elements with clearly magical touches. White marble columns supported elaborate arches, while stained-glass windows filtered the sunlight, casting multicolored patterns on the walls.
Along the way, portraits of former headmasters and famous mages watched the passersby with attentive gazes that seemed to follow their movements.
Finally, they reached a wide corridor ending in an imposing double door, made of dark wood with complex carvings that seemed to subtly shift when observed for too long. A golden symbol—a quill and a sword crossed over an open book, the Academy emblem—shone in the center.
"We have arrived," Madame Everett announced, stopping before the door. She knocked three times and waited. The door opened silently, untouched by anyone. "Enter," the secretary instructed, remaining beside the entrance. Logan, Blake, and Kassia exchanged apprehensive glances before crossing the threshold.
Headmaster Gryphon's office was circular, with a vaulted ceiling that replicated the sky outside, but with additional constellations Logan didn't recognize. Bookshelves filled with ancient tomes lined the walls, interrupted only by tall windows offering a panoramic view of the Academy grounds.
In the center of the room, upon a circular rug bearing arcane symbols, stood an imposing dark oak desk, behind which Headmaster Kassius Gryphon was seated. The Headmaster was not alone. Standing before the desk, shoulders tense and face red with contained anger, was Marcus Steelheart.
"—…completely unacceptable behavior under any circumstances, but especially in a classroom," the Headmaster was saying, his deep voice laden with authority. Noticing the trio's arrival, he interrupted his reprimand. "Ah, Mister Black, Mister Frost, and Miss Grey. Thank you for answering my summons promptly."
Headmaster Gryphon was even more impressive up close. His golden eyes with vertical pupils examined each of them intently, as if he could see beyond their physical appearances.
"Please, approach," he instructed, indicating the space beside Marcus. The three moved forward, keeping their distance from the Eryndark student, who shot a look of pure hatred in their direction.
"As I was explaining to Mister Steelheart," the Headmaster continued, "I am deeply disappointed by the events that occurred in Professor Flameheart's class today. The Aldaria Academy of Magic has a thousand-year tradition of neutrality and mutual respect among students of all origins."
He stood up, his imposing figure seeming to fill the room. "I made it clear at the welcome ceremony that political rivalries and external conflicts have no place within these walls. Magic is too powerful a force to be treated irresponsibly."
Marcus stepped forward, his face contorted in indignation. "Headmaster, with all due respect, it was Black who started it. He was showing off, displaying…"
"That's a lie!" Kassia interrupted, stepping forward. "Logan was just practicing like everyone else when you threw a fireball at him!"
"I wouldn't aim at someone on purpose," Marcus retorted, his voice laced with disdain. "It was an accident. Besides, look how he reacted—with a perfectly formed water barrier. Clearly, he has advanced training he's hiding from everyone."
Blake stepped forward, fists clenched. "You're just angry because you were humiliated in front of the whole class."
"Enough!" Headmaster Gryphon's voice thundered through the room, making objects on the shelves tremble slightly. The four students fell silent immediately. "This is precisely the type of behavior I will not tolerate."
He looked at each of them, his golden eyes piercing. "Mister Steelheart, regardless of your intentions, casting magic against another student is a serious violation of Academy rules. You will serve one week of detention with Professor Nyrel."
Marcus opened his mouth to protest, but a stern look from the Headmaster silenced him.
"As for you three," Gryphon continued, turning to Logan, Blake, and Kassia. "Although you were provoked, responding to hostility with more hostility only perpetuates the cycle. I expect more maturity in the future."
He turned back to Marcus. "Mister Steelheart, you are dismissed. Reflect on your actions and make better choices moving forward."
Marcus shot one last furious glare at Logan before turning and leaving the room, closing the door with more force than necessary.
The Headmaster sighed, returning to his chair. "Sit down, please," he said, indicating three chairs Logan was sure hadn't been there a moment before.
They obeyed, still tense from the confrontation.
"I understand that the transition to the Academy can be challenging," the Headmaster began, his tone softer now. "Especially for students from kingdoms with… complicated histories. But that is precisely why Aldaria exists—to transcend these differences and focus on what truly matters: the responsible development of your magical abilities."
He looked directly at Logan. "Mister Black, Professor Flameheart informed me about your impressive response to Mister Steelheart's attack. Remarkable control for someone on their first day of formal classes."
Logan felt a chill down his spine. There was something in the Headmaster's gaze that suggested he knew more than he let on. "It was instinct, sir," he replied, trying to sound casual. "Luck, really."
"Hmm," the Headmaster murmured, a slight smile on his lips. "Luck, instinct, or perhaps something more. In any case, you three are dismissed. But before you leave…"
He stood up again, walking to the window. "Mister Black, I must clarify something. Although I know your parents and have great respect for King Rogan and Queen Gália, do not expect privileged treatment at the Academy. Here, you are judged solely on your own merits and actions."
Logan nodded, feeling strangely relieved. "I wouldn't want it any other way, sir. I want to be treated like any other student."
The Headmaster smiled, seeming pleased with the answer. "Very well. You are dismissed."
The trio descended the stairs in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Only when they reached the central courtyard, away from prying ears, did Blake finally speak. "Well, that was… intense."
Kassia huffed, still irritated. "Marcus is an idiot. He clearly attacked Logan on purpose."
"The important thing is that it's over," Logan said, though he wasn't entirely convinced. The look Marcus had shot him on leaving suggested the conflict was far from over.
They walked to a bench under a leafy tree, sitting in the refreshing shade. "So, what do we do now?" Blake asked, leaning back. "From what I understand, we have the afternoons free, right?"
"Yes," Kassia confirmed. "I heard some upperclassmen talking. First-year classes are always in the morning. The afternoons are for independent study, optional extra classes, training, or simply resting."
"Perfect," said Blake, stretching. "I want to practice that
Logan thought about the mysterious book Professor Nyrel had given him. He hadn't had time to examine it properly yet. "I think I'll head back to the dorm," he said. "I want to take a look at that book Professor Nyrel gave me. And maybe practice a bit too."
"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Kassia asked, looking slightly disappointed. "I'm sure," Logan replied. "But we can meet up for dinner later."
They agreed and separated, each going their own way.
The dormitory was practically empty at that hour, with most students enjoying their free time in the gardens or the library. Logan closed his room door, placed his bag on the bed, and took out the mysterious book. It was an ancient volume, bound in black leather that seemed to absorb the surrounding light. There was no title on the cover, only a subtle symbol engraved in the center—the silhouette of a wolf howling at the moon. Logan felt a shiver run down his spine as he recognized the symbol of Fenrir. How did Professor Nyrel know? And why give him this specific book?
Carefully, he opened the cover. On the first page, written in elegant, ancient script, was a title: 'Umbra Vinculum'—The Shadow Bond. Logan turned the page, eager to discover the contents, but to his surprise, the following pages were completely blank. He flipped through the entire book—nothing, just paper yellowed with age, without a single word or illustration.
Frustrated, Logan closed the book and placed it on the desk. Perhaps it was some kind of test? Or maybe Professor Nyrel was just messing with him? Deciding to leave the mystery of the book for later, Logan resolved to practice what he had learned in class.
Meanwhile, in the Academy gardens, Kassia diligently practiced
"That's impressive," commented Lyra Starfall, who was practicing beside her. "Are you sure you've never studied elemental magic before?" Kassia smiled, allowing the sphere to dance between her fingers like a liquid jewel. "Never formally. But I've always had a knack for elements. My mother says it's because of the Grey lineage." Some things were better kept secret, especially in a place where she didn't know who she could fully trust.
In another part of the gardens, Blake faced a different challenge. His natural affinity for ice, inherited from his elven lineage, kept interfering with
"You're forcing it too much," observed Nyx Moonshadow, the elf who had joined their group earlier. "Water and ice are different states of the same element. Don't fight your nature; adapt it." Blake frowned, concentrating again. "How so?"
"Instead of trying to prevent the freezing, control it," Nyx explained. "Allow only the surface to freeze, keeping the inside liquid. It's like creating a protective shell."
Blake followed the advice, visualizing exactly what Nyx had described. To his surprise, it worked. A sphere of water formed in his palm, with a thin layer of crystalline ice on the surface, like a glass bubble containing pure water. "Incredible!" he exclaimed, watching how the light refracted through the sphere, creating colorful patterns.
Nyx smiled, her blue eyes shining. "See? Sometimes, what seems like a limitation can become your greatest strength." Blake nodded thoughtfully. Perhaps there was a deeper lesson there, something that could help not only with his magic but also with how to handle the challenges that were sure to come.
Logan first concentrated on the
Next, he tried the
With more confidence now, Logan tried to control the sphere's movement, making it float a few centimeters above his hand. To his surprise, control came more easily this time. The sphere danced in the air according to his will, rising, falling, tracing circles and spirals.
As he practiced, intensely focused on manipulating the water, he didn't immediately notice the subtle glow emanating from the desk. When he finally noticed, he almost lost control of the water sphere. The book—Umbra Vinculum—was emitting a faint bluish glow.
Logan let the water sphere dissipate and approached the desk. The glow diminished as soon as he stopped practicing magic. Intrigued, he picked up the book again and examined it. It still looked normal, with blank pages.
"What if…" he thought, remembering how Professor Flameheart had explained that objects could also be imbued with mana. Holding the book with both hands, Logan closed his eyes and tried to channel his mana into the object. Nothing happened. He tried again, visualizing the energy flowing from within him into his hands and penetrating the book. Still nothing.
On the third attempt, Logan concentrated more deeply, reaching not just for his own mana, but also for that deeper, primitive connection he felt with Fenrir. Something within him responded—a spark of darker, older power.
The book trembled in his hands and began to glow intensely. The light was no longer bluish, but a deep gold reminiscent of a wolf's eyes in the darkness.
Suddenly, everything around Logan disappeared. The room, the Academy, the entire world—all swallowed by absolute darkness. Only the book remained, floating before him, emanating that golden light which seemed the only real thing in the void.
The pages began to turn on their own, rapidly, as if driven by an invisible wind. When they finally stopped, Logan saw they were no longer blank. Complex arcane symbols filled the pages, along with detailed illustrations of a black wolf with golden eyes—Fenrir.
A deep, ancient voice echoed in the darkness, seeming to come from all directions and none at the same time. "Finally, after a thousand years, another worthy bearer presents himself."