The Grand Arcanum Institute
In the heart of the kingdom's central region stood the famed Grand Arcanum Institute, the most prestigious educational institution in the realm—its very name synonymous with excellence, power, and history. Founded nearly two centuries ago, the academy was responsible for shaping many of the greatest heroes and leaders of the land. Even the current King and Queen were among its celebrated alumni.
The academy's architecture sprawled across a massive hilltop like a small city: stone towers wrapped in silver vines, sprawling gardens blessed by spirit magic, libraries that held ancient secrets, and coliseums where a thousand battles had been reenacted in training.
Its headmaster was none other than Headmaster Zephran Caelum, a man of quiet command and fierce grace. He was Knight Rank 10 and Wind Mage Rank 10, once hailed as the Whirlwind Blade in his youth. Under his leadership, the Arcanum remained both a sanctuary of learning and a crucible of elite warriors and scholars.
The academy was home to a dazzling roster of instructors:
Sir Darek Halston, Knight Rank 9, swordsmanship mentor and former Royal Guard Commander.
Arvina Solen, Knight Rank 8 and Fire Mage Rank 3, fiery spearmaster of noble blood.
Varn Drex, Knight Rank 8, Water Mage Rank 2, a shield wall of a man from the Northern ranks.
Faelyn Veyranth, Knight Rank 7 and Nature Mage Rank 4, elf archer from the western duchy.
Magus Elaryn Vael, Mage Rank 9 in Light and Fire, head of the Magic Division and former senior priestess.
Summoner Jareth Orel, Summoner Rank 8, known for taming a high-rank stone serpent and a blazing hawk spirit.
To train at the Grand Arcanum was not merely an honor—it was a destiny. And for Alaric Durnhart, that destiny was finally within reach.
Alaric stood at the towering gates, wide-eyed and silent.
The sun had only begun to crest over the eastern mountains, yet dozens of carriages lined the long, enchanted road that led into the Arcanum's front courtyard. Students, nobles, adventurers, and instructors milled about like waves of color and chatter.
Tall spires gleamed under protective enchantments. Floating orbs of light lit the cobblestone paths. The air smelled of ink, steel, and faint spirit energy.
Alaric's fingers tightened around the strap of his travel satchel. It was the most beautiful place he had ever seen.
"Alaric!" a familiar voice called.
He turned.
Running toward him were Malric and Lira, the twins of the North Duchy, with Jorin just a step behind.
Lira beamed. "You finally made it!"
Malric stepped forward, clapping him on the shoulder. "Took you long enough."
Jorin smirked. "Told you he wouldn't miss it."
The four stood together—reunited.
They began walking together through the central garden path as Alaric took in the sights. Shops lined the paths, from bookstores to weapon forges, enchanted tailoring services to potion cafes. It was a city within a city.
"Welcome to Arcanum," Malric said proudly. "You'll never be bored again."
Over a meal in one of the campus cafés, they updated one another.
"So, what rank are you now?" Malric asked first, his grin half-cocky.
"Knight Rank 4," he added before Alaric could answer. "And Water Mage Rank 4."
Lira flicked her fork playfully at him. "Show-off. I'm Water and Earth Magic Rank 4."
Jorin smirked. "Knight Rank 2, Wind Mage Rank 1."
Alaric smiled modestly. "Knight Rank 3. Dark Magic Rank 2."
The table quieted for a second—until Jorin nudged him. "Dark magic, huh? Figures. You've always been mysterious."
They laughed.
As they walked around campus later, Lira pointed out various training arenas, lecture towers, and the dormitory halls.
"Entrance exam's in two days," Malric reminded. "Written and practical. You ready?"
Alaric nodded. "I've been preparing since the moment I got the letter."
The high-rank bronze monster let out a guttural snort as it pawed at the stone floor, the sound of its hoof scraping echoing through the open arena. The Direfang Boar stood over six feet tall at the shoulder, its hide thick with coarse armor-like fur, tusks glowing faintly with elemental energy.
Alaric stood still, calm, his breathing even. His left hand hovered over his blade.
From the viewing stand above, four instructors watched from behind a glass-like barrier laced with enchantments. Leading them was Sir Elric Vorn, Knight Rank 8 and Earth Mage Rank 4, a veteran with a square jaw and eyes like chiseled granite.
"Another bronze monster?" Elric said with a grunt. "Let's see if this one at least makes it interesting."
The signal was given.
The Direfang charged.
Alaric sidestepped with elegant precision, his footwork flowing as if rehearsed a thousand times. With a single breath, his aura flared—brilliant and shadow-bound. The instructors stiffened.
"That's not just aura," murmured Instructor Halden, a tall elven spearman. "He's coating it... with dark magic."
"Shadow magic, at that," said Magus Arlen, a light mage. "You don't see that every year."
Alaric pivoted, his sword gleaming with deep black tendrils as he activated Shadow Step, vanishing and reappearing in a blink. The crowd watching from behind the outer barrier gasped.
With a sharp cry, he slashed across the monster's hind legs. It bucked and turned—but Alaric was already moving. His blade rose in a clean arc.
"Shadow Fang: Sever."
A burst of dark energy exploded with the strike. The boar howled once—then fell to the ground, motionless.
The silence was deafening.
The instructors exchanged glances.
"That was far beyond standard bronze-level capability," Arlen said, lowering his clipboard.
"His form was refined. Calm under pressure," Halden added.
"And precise with both aura and magic enhancement," said Instructor Velia, the ranking mage overseeing knight applicants. "For a thirteen-year-old…"
Sir Elric nodded, scratching his beard. "Knight Rank 3... Dark Magic Rank 2... And that movement skill—he's got potential. More than that, he has experience."
Elric closed the ledger. "He passes. Easily."
There was a pause before the next examinee's name was called.
That evening, the four friends gathered at a quieter balcony garden, sitting under the enchanted glow of floating orbs.
Jorin leaned back on his hands. "So… Silver-ranked already, huh?"
Alaric nodded. "After the dungeon exploration two months ago."
Lira's eyes widened. "You didn't mention that earlier!"
Alaric told them the story—about Rusk, Teren, Kaela. The monster ambush. The Abyss Wyrm. The deaths.
His voice was steady, but the sorrow lingered beneath.
"You've seen more than most students your age," Malric said quietly.
"I don't want to forget any of it," Alaric said. "It's why I'll keep growing stronger."
They nodded.
In return, the others spoke about academy life—the challenges, rivalries, and current top students.
"The son of the Duke of the South, Drevyn Duskryn," Malric said. "He's a menace. Already Knight Rank 5 and arrogant about it."
Lireya added, "Thalara Meredyn's daughter—Sirela—is a magical prodigy. Wind and Fire Magic Rank 5."
"Then there's the Crown Princess, Seraphina. She's fourth year now—Knight Rank 5, Light Mage Rank 4," Malric said.
"And her brother, the Crown Prince, is a second-year. Knight Rank 3, Light Mage Rank 2," Lira added.
"The West Duke's son?" Alaric asked. "Second-year like the prince," Lira confirmed. "Knight Rank 3. Solid, quiet type."
Alaric took it all in, filing away each name.
Jorin nudged him. "You'll surpass them all one day, won't you?"
Alaric smiled faintly. "If I can protect the people I care about, that's enough for me."
They sat together in peaceful silence, watching the lights of the academy city flicker into the night.