Arcanhelm Academy was nothing like Revinspire.
Its walls soared like castle towers, sculpted from white stone veined with faintly glowing magic. Floating platforms drifted between spires, carrying students across the campus with ease. Four massive banners hung proudly in the air, each marked with the sigil of one of the four great divisions: Knights, Healers, Casters, and Invokers.
Elira stood quietly in the central courtyard, her boots scuffing stone as she turned in place. A soft breeze fluttered her map—handwritten in old script she barely understood—as she tried to match one of the towers to its symbol.
It didn't help.
She squinted, frustrated.
"You look like you're about to duel the air," a voice drawled behind her.
Startled, she turned.
A tall student leaned casually against a nearby pillar. He had long, loosely tied black hair and deep violet eyes—unreadable, but not unkind. There was something calm about him, like he never rushed anything.
Without thinking, she blurted, "A bunny?"
He tilted his head. "Hm?"
"I—I mean—never mind." She straightened. "Just… very lost."
His lips curved slightly. "You're definitely a first-year."
She sighed. "Map's useless."
"Come on," he offered. "I'll walk you to orientation."
As they moved through the sprawling campus, he pointed out landmarks—the Healing Tower, the Combat Arena, the Spirit Hall, and the Training Grounds. His tone was relaxed, almost teasing, but never mocking.
"This school is huge," she muttered. "They expect us to walk everywhere? I wish we had something more… advanced."
He laughed. "You want technology in a place run by ancient mana? Cute."
She snorted. "Hey, I'm just being practical."
He stopped at the base of a massive domed building. Arched doors shimmered with enchantments, and a faint hum of energy vibrated in the air.
"This is it," he said.
She turned to him. "Thank you..mister..?"
"Lior, I'm Lior" he said, offering a faint smile. "Second-year. You'll be fine."
"Elira" she replied. "And… thanks again."
He gave a small wave. "Enjoy your first day at Arcanhelm."
She smiled softly, then walked through the great doors.
⸻
❖ Orientation Hall – The Grand Assembly Nexus
Inside, the hall stretched impossibly wide, the high ceiling enchanted with shifting starlight. Hundreds of first-year students filled the space, standing in neat formations beneath the glowing banners of the four divisions. Though each division hailed from a different country, today they stood under one roof—for the first time.
At the far end, a stage pulsed with light.
A robed instructor appeared atop it in a flicker of golden glow.
"Welcome to Arcanhelm Academy," their voice rang out, magically amplified. "You have been chosen from across the four nations to stand here—not as citizens of your countries, but as students of the sacred divisions."
Elira stood still, listening. Even if it was formal, there was power in the words.
The instructor continued, explaining the history of the academy, the division system, rank evaluations, and strict mana regulations. Elira half-listened, brain already spinning with questions she wouldn't dare ask.
"So many rules… Can't they just hand us a guidebook and move on? " she thought.
Then finally—
"You will now be given your room pairing number. This determines your dormmate for the year. One number. Two names. Find your match."
A wave of glowing light swept through the hall. In an instant, shimmering numbers appeared above each student's head—visible to everyone, floating gently in the air.
Elira's number: #421
"Once you've found your partner, proceed to your assigned dormitory. You will find a guidebook inside your room. Dismissed."
The instructor vanished in a blink.
⸻
❖ Elira's POV
What a pain. Couldn't they just assign names? Or teleport us to our rooms?
All around me, students were scanning the crowd, calling out numbers, comparing glances. Some were already cheering, others groaning. A few bumped into each other awkwardly.
I stayed still, hoping mine would just show up—
Tap.
Someone poked my back. I turned.
A tall girl stood behind me with long, flowing dark blue hair and cold, storm-colored eyes. Her voice was low and crisp.
"You are my pair."
Oh. Well… that was easy.
The first thing Elira did when she stepped inside their dorm was groan and throw herself onto the nearest couch.
"Yesss," she exhaled, arms dangling off the edge, "that was actually exhausting."
The dorm was nicer than she expected. The shared common area was lined with enchanted lanterns that glowed in warm tones. To the left and right were two separate doors—each leading to their own private bedroom. A small kitchen sat tucked in the corner, and bookshelves had already been stocked with starter materials and guides. Their belongings had been delivered in neat stacks beside their doors, ready for unpacking.
The room was quiet… too quiet.
Elira's roommate was already organizing her things, her movements efficient and silent. Her long, dark blue hair draped down her back like velvet. She hadn't said a single word since they left the orientation hall.
Elira cleared her throat as she knelt beside her own pile of supplies, pretending to arrange her boots.
"So… what's your name?"
The girl didn't even look up. "Sylvaine Caelis," she said curtly, lifting a trunk with ease.
Before Elira could respond, Sylvaine walked off toward her bedroom, disappearing behind the door without so much as a glance.
Elira blinked. Well… that was friendly.
She let out a sigh and thought, I guess it's going to take a while to melt all this ice.
But then—
Just as Sylvaine reached her door, she paused and turned slightly over her.
"And yours?"
Elira blinked, then gave a small smile. "Elira Althar."
Sylvaine gave a nod. "Pleasure to meet you. I hope we can get along well."
And with that, she stepped into her room and gently shut the door.
"Same here," Elira murmured, and grabbed her bag to head into her own room.
⸻
Her bedroom smelled faintly of cedar and parchment. A small window looked out toward the floating bridges of the academy, and soft clouds drifted lazily in the distance. She knelt down to open one of her bags—and paused.
There, tucked beneath her clothes, was a pale envelope marked in familiar handwriting.
Gavren.
She held it carefully, heart pinching slightly as she opened it. The paper was thick, the ink just slightly smudged—he must've written it in a hurry.
She read:
Elira,
Now that you're here at Arcanhelm, I know part of you is thinking only of what was taken from you. And I don't blame you. Revenge is a flame—it burns, and it drives us forward. But it can also consume.
I didn't send you here just to chase ghosts. I sent you here so you could live. So you could discover the world outside the shadows you were born into.
Study hard. Train well. But also… make mistakes. Make friends. Laugh. Find things that have nothing to do with vengeance.
You are not just a cursed legacy. You are a girl with a future.
So live as a student, Elira. Live as someone who deserves happiness.
—Gavren
Her chest tightened.
She folded the letter neatly and placed it in the drawer beside her bed.
"Yes, Father," she whispered, smiling faintly. "I will."
———