The very next day, early in the morning, the shimmer of bells echoed through the entire castle. These bells signaled the start of the school day.
James jumped out of bed, startled. He glanced at the clock—it said there were still two hours until class. A small thrill of nervous excitement fluttered in his chest. Today was the day he really started.
He stretched, yawned, and began getting ready. He wore his green and black robe, and pinned to his chest was the raven emblem—the guardian animal of their house. He paused briefly to smooth the fabric, steadying himself.
James made his way out of the dorm and into the common room, where he found Johnny already up and ready to leave.
"James! Class is about to start—let's make haste and go eat breakfast!" said Johnny.
Johnny was an ordinary-looking boy with blond hair and brown eyes. He was slightly taller and broader than James. His most noticeable feature, though, was how he wore his uniform—his tie hung nearly to his knees, and his robe was slightly oversized.
The two boys quickly ran to the Great Hall, where a few students were already seated and enjoying their breakfast.
On the menu: oats, toast with eggs, and sausages.
Across from James sat Naftali, stuffing his face with everything on the table. James felt a pang of hunger but also a tightening in his stomach—the pressure of the day ahead.
After a quick meal, James finally headed to his first class: Intricate Dealings of Alchemy.
The corridors were packed with students rushing to class, books in hand, robes swishing behind them. James squeezed through the crowd until he reached the Alchemy classroom.
It was pitch dark inside.
The only source of light came from a few dimly glowing crystals set into the ceiling. Strange odors lingered in the air—earthy, metallic, and oddly sweet. On each table sat a neat arrangement of glass vials, filled with liquids in hues James had never seen before.
He took a seat, heart pounding—not just from nerves, but a strange anticipation. This was his chance to prove himself.
James and Johnny settled into the middle of the classroom. One half of the room was filled with Valkyrie students, the other half with Pelgrin students.
Annie was sitting at the table directly in front of James. He noticed her calm composure and tried to draw strength from it.
The room buzzed with low murmurs as the students chatted among themselves.
Suddenly, the door opened and the professor entered.
He waved his Sigrod that was tied to his hand like jewelry, and the glowing crystals above flared brighter, illuminating the classroom in an eerie bluish hue.
"Silence!" he snapped.
The chattering stopped instantly. The students froze, eyes locked on the figure at the front of the room.
"I shall be teaching you Alchemy this year," he began, pacing slowly.
"Rules are as follows:You speak only when spoken to.You will address me only as Professor Newton.Those who perform well shall be rewarded.Those who fail… punished."
He paused.
Professor Newton had a sharp voice, a cold stare, and a presence that made the air feel heavier. His robe was deep grey, and the veins on his hands looked like stone.
"Miss Turner," he barked suddenly.
A girl had been waving her Sigrod around playfully.
"The use of a Sigrod is strictly prohibited in my classroom."
With a flick of his own, a feather-like object attached to gold chains flared from his hand with a sharp clap. The chains pulsed faintly as an invisible force yanked her Sigrod to the table.
She swallowed with a loud gulp, eyes wide.
Gasps rippled through the class.
"That's it, Miss Turner. Next time you do that, I'll be taking points," Newton said coldly, not even glancing at her again.
"What points is he talking about?" James whispered to Johnny.
"Dunno," Johnny mumbled, eyes still wide from the incident.
A soft voice from the table in front of them spoke up—it was Annie, whispering just low enough not to draw attention.
"The points are for ranking—both personal and for your Clan. No house wants their offspring known as failures," she said quietly.
"It's said that the student with the highest number of points by the end of their schooling can make one wish to the school—and it will be granted. It's official stuff. Even the Council is involved."
James and Johnny listened closely.
"Each year, the person with the most points earns the honor of receiving official credits. At the end of their studies, the top student can trade those credits for a wish," Annie continued. "Teachers can add or subtract points. You earn them by answering questions, performing well, or doing something worthy. Like last year—Dorian earned over fifty points saving a girl from being crushed during a dragon attack at the gates."
She leaned in a little closer.
"And yeah… if you lose points, it hurts your grades too."
"Thanks, Annie," whispered James gratefully. He felt a mixture of pressure and hope settle over him.
Johnny raised an eyebrow. "How do you know her?" he whispered to James.
"We shared the same cabin on the ship ride here," James replied a bit too quickly, wondering if he sounded suspicious.
"What is Alchemy?" Professor Newton asked, his voice slicing through the silence.
A few hands shot up, including James's.
"Yes… Mister Arcturus," Newton said, with a faintly mocking smile. "Please enlighten us."
James took a breath and stood.
"Alchemy is the study of the magical process of transmuting matter into other forms," he said proudly. "There are three main aspects: transformation, creation, and combination—all used to discover universal elixirs."
A moment of silence.
Then the professor gave the slightest nod.
"Yes, yes, very good, Arcturus. Textbook answer," said Professor Newton, raising an eyebrow. "But… an astonishing attempt nevertheless. For that, I award three points to James."
The class turned to look at James in awe.
It was his first day, and already he was showing strong knowledge. A wave of applause spread through the room.
"Bloody hell, mate—who knew you were brilliant?" whispered Johnny, grinning.
James smiled briefly, but his mind raced with questions—was he ready to live up to the expectations now placed on him?
"In today's class," Newton continued, "we will be learning to identify various alchemic materials. Then, I'll demonstrate how to brew the Lunar Elixir, a formula created by—yours truly."
He gave a small smirk.
Newton's skin was pale and gray, clearly caused by experimentation. His face was sharp and bony, his eyes dark and baggy, giving him a ghostlike appearance. Each time he moved, his robe swayed unnaturally—as if caught in a wind only it could feel.
"Now then," he said, "form groups of three. Clan affiliation does not matter. Once you're grouped, please collect a pair of goggles from my desk."
The students bustled around, forming groups and retrieving goggles—strange, brass-rimmed lenses that shimmered faintly with runes.
Once settled, the professor began his lesson on identifying herbs commonly used in alchemy. He walked through names, smells, and magical properties, holding up samples as he spoke.
"Loviec bugs found in the Icey mountains of Riv" he held giant beetles that were the size of his hand.
Then he paused.
"For the final part of today's lesson," he announced, "I will demonstrate how to brew the Lunar Elixir. Pay attention."
He moved to the center table and began his process:
"First, grind five Luna flowers into a fine paste," he said, demonstrating.
"Next, strain the paste to extract its liquid.Then, add exactly five grams of crystalline powder to the mixture and pour it into a vial.Now, shake it—vigorously."
He paused, holding the vial up as the mixture began to glow with a soft blue hue.
"Now for the most important step," he said slowly, as the room leaned in.
"Add one drop—only one—of slime from a Magundo jelly. No more."
He added the drop.
The vial flashed, glowing brightly, casting white light across the walls.
"Now," he said, setting the vial down carefully, "who will be our test subject for today?"
He looked over the class.
"Do not raise your hand… unless you volunteer."
Immediately, everyone's hands shot up—except one.
Sitting in the back, staring off in confusion, was Noord Jones—a clumsy boy with short black hair, big ears, and a round face. He was Devo a half human, half dwarf.
"Ah, perfect," said Newton. "Mister… eh… oh yes. Jones. Please come up here."
Noord blinked. He hadn't heard the question.
He just stared.
"Come now! We don't have the whole day."
"Y-yes, Professor," Noord mumbled, reluctantly rising from his seat.
He walked stiffly to the front as Newton handed him protective gloves.
"Now, Mister Jones," said the professor, "you'll pour this elixir onto this rock here. Slowly. Carefully. And do not spill even a single drop on yourself."
Noord nodded, gulped, and picked up the vial with shaking hands.
The class watched with bated breath.
He tilted the vial.
Crash—bang—psssshhh!
The rock hissed, cracked—and began to crystallize, glowing silver-blue.
Gasps and awe followed.
Even Newton looked slightly impressed.
The rock shimmered brightly as Noord continued pouring.
"That is enough now, Noord," Professor Newton said sharply.
Startled, Noord jerked—and the rest of the elixir splashed all over his robe.
His robe immediately began to glow white-hot.
"Oooh—ahhh!" the class gasped.
A moment later—BOOM!
The robe burst apart, the blast sending smoke and torn cloth flying. Noord stood in shock, his uniform tattered and slightly singed. He looked exactly like a burnt chicken.
Laughter exploded around the room.
Even Lucas Cox began clucking like a hen, slapping the table with glee.
"Should've basted him first!" Newton jeered.
James laughed along, though the sting of embarrassment lingered.
"Well... I did warn you," Professor Newton said dryly. "That's all for today. Your next class is Seals and Wards. Mister Jones, I suggest changing before you cause a second explosion."
James and Johnny left the classroom, still chuckling as they made their way across the school.
Their next class was in a far brighter place.
The Seals classroom had high windows, floral-scented air, and a gorgeous crystal chandelier that sparkled above a polished marble floor.
A graceful woman stood at the front, her flowing sky-blue robes billowing slightly. She wore a floral hat adorned with a silver and gold, and her hair was pulled into a loose braid of shining gold.
On the board, written in elegant cursive:Professor R. Vine
"Please make your way in, but don't sit," she said, turning to face the class. "Today's lesson will be conducted outside."
Her voice was soft, but it carried authority.
"You may call me Professor Vine," she added. "Now follow me."
Outside on the field, the grass stirred with subtle movement. Shapes shifted in the distance, not yet clear.
"Today, you'll learn the basics of taming your Familiar," said Professor Vine. "Most of the noble families donated the beasts you'll be learning to contract. So be thankful, commoners, that you even have the chance."
A cruel smile curved over her lips.
"It stands to reason that those from noble bloodlines know their clan beast. If that applies to you—step forward toward it now."
Her tone was sharp and commanding.
In front of the children stood beasts of all kinds—hippogriffs, Veltheras, ganglions—creatures clearly bred for riding and combat. Some were majestic, others terrifying, but all radiated purity.
The children hesitated at first, then slowly began approaching the creatures.
One stood out—a magnificent horse-like beast with great wings whose feather tips glowed faintly with amber light.
James took a step forward—but WHAM!
He hit the ground hard.
"Move, Arcturus. That one's mine," sneered Lucas, standing over him, smug as ever.
James looked up, fists clenched, but said nothing. He swallowed his frustration.
He got up, brushed himself off, and turned away.
"What's his deal?" Johnny asked, scowling at Lucas.
James sighed. "Apparently our families hate each other—something about being Aristocrats and old feuds."
"You know what they say Family drama. Old blood, old grudges."
Johnny shook his head. "I heard the teachers let him get away with everything. Rich family perks. Good thing you didn't start a fight."
"Now," called Professor Vine, "for those contracting a beast for the first time—take out your Sigrods, place it on your left hand, then touch the beast with your right and say, 'I am [Your Name] from the House of [Your Clan], and I would like to make a contract. Be my steed, and I will be your protector!' You must speak clearly and with intent."
She paused, then added, "If the beast accepts you, there will be a sign. If not—well, we'll deal with it."
Children began stepping forward, performing the ritual one by one. Cheers erupted when a contract succeeded; groans and gasps followed when beasts rejected students—either by roaring, stomping off, or simply turning their backs.
James looked around, but none of the creatures resonated with him.
Then, at the edge of the field, he saw one—a dark hippogriff, standing alone. No one approached it. Its feathers shimmered with oily shadow, and its eyes burned with wariness. It was known to be foul-tempered.
But with all other creatures already claimed, James had no choice.
He stepped forward slowly.
The hippogriff flared its wings, startling nearby students. They backed away nervously, whispering.
James didn't stop. His gaze locked with the beast's.
He raised his hand—and the hippogriff stopped flaring.
It stepped toward him.
Its beak touched James's hand.
James felt a strange warmth flow through him, a calm settling over his nerves.
He whispered the ritual words clearly:
"I am James of the House of Arcturus, and I ask to make a contract. Be my steed, and I will be your protector."
The creature knelt—one powerful leg bent.
An audible gasp swept across the field.
"Excellent," said Professor Vine, her tone unreadable. "Now mount your contracts and prepare to lift off."
One by one, the students climbed onto their familiars.
The air filled with excitement and nervous laughter as the beasts took flight. Some children remained grounded, their failed attempts leaving them gazing up in envy—but even they smiled in awe.
James gripped the reins tightly as wind whipped through his hair.
It was his first real flight—alone, untethered—and it felt incredible.
The hippogriff soared high, wings slicing through the sky. James leaned with its motion, learning its rhythm quickly.
The freedom, the speed—it was intoxicating.
But then—
CRACK!
A sudden burst of dark smoke erupted from beyond the forest line near the school grounds.
The sky rippled, and the wind shifted.
Professor Vine's head snapped up.
She froze.
All the familiars dipped midair, uneasy.
"Everyone—land. Now." Her voice was sharp, urgent.
A low rumble echoed in the distance… and for just a moment, James thought he saw something in the smoke:
A hooded figure.
Unmoving.
Watching.