Chapter 2 – The Gates of Arcana
The mists thinned by midday, and when Karl crested the final hill, the world before him stole the breath from his chest.
Arcana Academy did not rise like any ordinary fortress or castle. It soared, carved into the side of a mountain whose peak pierced the clouds. Towers spiraled upward, each topped with glowing orbs that pulsed like stars, casting down light even in daylight. Bridges of glass and gold arched between them, impossibly suspended, while vast banners fluttered against the cliffs, their fabric shimmering with constellations that shifted as though alive.
Karl's boots rooted to the dirt path. For a long while, he just stared.
"I thought it'd be… smaller," he muttered to himself, half in awe, half in dread. "Guess that's what happens when you build a school for people who bend reality for fun."
As if to answer, a roar split the sky. Karl jerked his head upward just in time to see a wyvern swoop past one of the towers, its wings the size of sails, a rider cloaked in azure robes gripping its back. The wyvern let loose a stream of crackling frost that scattered across the air like shattered diamonds before banking away into the clouds.
Karl swallowed hard. His arms were strong, his body hard as iron from years of work—but what was muscle against that?
The path thickened with travelers the closer he got to the gates. Dozens of students walked, flew, or floated toward the academy. Some rode creatures with scales and wings, others lounged in carriages driven by enchanted wheels that spun without touching the ground. Sparks of magic trailed behind their cloaks, every gesture casual but deliberate, as though the air itself bent to their whims.
Karl tugged his coat tighter around his shoulders, clutching the parchment hidden inside. He kept his eyes low. Already he could feel their stares.
"Is that one walking?" a boy whispered as Karl passed. His robes were trimmed in silver, his voice dripping with disdain. "How… provincial."
Karl gritted his teeth but said nothing.
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The academy's gates were unlike any he had seen: towering archways forged of obsidian shot through with veins of molten gold. Ancient runes glowed along the frame, shifting when stared at too long. Beyond them, the courtyard stretched wide and glittering, lined with fountains that sprayed liquid light instead of water.
Two guards stood watch, clad in armor so polished it mirrored the sky. But they weren't ordinary guards. Their eyes glowed faintly blue, their movements precise and inhuman. Golems, Karl realized. Living statues.
One stepped forward as Karl approached, hand raised. "Letter," it said, voice deep as stone grinding against stone.
Karl fumbled inside his coat, producing the parchment. The golem took it carefully in its massive hands, scanned the seal, then pressed the paper against its chest. The runes carved into its armor flared, reading the magic Karl couldn't see.
After a long silence, the golem stepped aside. "Admitted."
Karl released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He stepped through the gates.
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The courtyard bustled with students—hundreds, maybe thousands. Cloaks swirled in every color, some embroidered with family crests, others glowing faintly as though woven from light itself. Spells crackled in the air: one boy levitated his trunk effortlessly, a girl conjured a bird made of flame that perched on her shoulder, and two older students dueled in a corner, their wands slicing through the air as sparks ricocheted across the stone.
Karl tried not to stare, but it was like walking through a dream painted in fire and starlight.
A voice rang out, clear and commanding.
"First-years! Gather by the fountain!"
Karl followed the sound, weaving through the crowd. At the base of the largest fountain—its waters rising in impossible spirals, freezing midair into crystalline shapes—stood a woman in emerald robes. Her hair was black as raven feathers, her eyes sharp enough to cut glass.
"I am Mistress Elowen," she announced. "Professor of Elemental Binding and your guide through your first trial at Arcana Academy. Yes—trial. You will find no hand-holding here. If you thought acceptance was your victory, you are mistaken. It is only the beginning."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Karl shifted uncomfortably, his satchel heavy on his shoulder.
"You will each present your spark," Elowen continued. "Your first act as students of Arcana is to reveal the magic within you. Those without the will… or the gift… will not remain long."
Karl's heart slammed against his ribs. Spark? Reveal magic? His throat dried.
One by one, the students stepped forward. A boy summoned lightning that danced between his fingertips. A girl spun water into ribbons that coiled gracefully around her arms. Another student raised a hand and called forth vines from the cracks in the stone, blooming with