Morning sunlight streamed through the tall arched windows of Classroom Theta, scattering across rows of polished desks and shelves lined with shimmering tomes. The faint hum of enchantments lingered in the air—old, steady magic that made the room feel alive.
Anna stepped inside, clutching her satchel a little too tightly. The space buzzed with quiet excitement as first-year students took their seats. Quills floated above parchment, enchanted chalk scrawled notes across the blackboard on its own, and crystal lanterns flickered with soft color.
At the front of the room stood Professor Halden Mire, a stout man with silvery hair and a robe embroidered with concentric circles of gold thread. His sharp eyes swept across the class like a hawk's.
"Welcome to Introduction to Magic," he said, voice calm but firm. "If you're here, it means you've taken your first steps into understanding the most fundamental force that shapes our world—mana itself."
Anna slid into an empty seat near the middle, still trying to blend in. First day. Don't mess up, she reminded herself.
Across the aisle, a few students whispered. "Isn't that the princess from yesterday?" "The one from the Obsidian Circle rumor?" "She's… actually here?"
Anna pretended not to hear, focusing on the professor as he continued.
"Magic," Professor Mire went on, tapping the board with a rune-carved staff, "is the art of shaping intent into form. It begins not with power, but with control. Today, you'll learn to sense your inner flow—your mana current."
With a wave of his staff, glowing runes appeared in the air—gentle spirals of light that pulsed in time with his words. "Place your hands over your heart and close your eyes. Feel the rhythm beneath your skin. That pulse—that warmth—is the spark of your being."
Anna did as instructed, drawing a slow breath. She felt the soft hum beneath her palms, faint at first, then stronger—steady and familiar, like the heartbeat of something vast and ancient.
Professor Mire's brow furrowed slightly. "Good… very good. But remember—magic is balance, not dominance. Your mana must flow with you, not through you."
As the class continued, students took turns practicing their focus exercises. Small sparks of mana flickered over desks, some forming harmless little flames or dancing lights.
Anna opened her eyes as the others began to test their control. One by one, little bursts of color illuminated the room—threads of wind, flickers of light, tiny orbs of water hovering above eager hands.
She swallowed hard, turning her gaze back to her own palms. Okay… you can do this, she thought. Just like the others. Focus… feel the current.
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes again. The hum was still there—deep, powerful—but when she tried to bring it forward, it felt distant, unreachable. Like trying to cup sunlight in her hands.
Nothing happened.
A few students nearby gasped as their spells bloomed successfully. A girl at the next desk conjured a shimmering butterfly of light, earning soft praise from Professor Mire.
Anna tried again, furrowing her brow. She imagined the mana flowing up from her chest to her fingertips, imagined the light forming, dancing, shining—
Still nothing. Not even a spark.
A faint heat flushed her cheeks as she glanced around. No one seemed to notice yet, but that almost made it worse. Her heart thudded faster, and she pressed her hands together tightly. Come on. You've lifted two thousand pounds, but you can't make a candle flicker?
She inhaled again and pushed. For a split second, the hum inside her flared—but instead of rising to her palms, it sank deeper, retreating, like a heartbeat pulling back from the surface.
Her shoulders slumped.
Across the room, Professor Mire was moving between students, offering quiet corrections. When his gaze brushed past Anna, she quickly pretended to be adjusting her posture, hoping he wouldn't notice that her desk was conspicuously free of any magical light.
But his expression softened as he approached. "Having trouble focusing, Princess?"
Anna hesitated, her voice small. "I… I can feel it. But it won't come out."
Mire nodded thoughtfully, tapping his staff against the floor. "Not unusual. Sometimes the strongest mana isn't eager to be called—it needs trust before it obeys. You'll find your rhythm in time."
He smiled kindly before moving on, leaving Anna with a strange mixture of relief and frustration.
She looked down at her hands once more, flexing her fingers. The faint hum was still there—steady, patient, almost as if it were waiting for something.
As Anna sat quietly, trying to coax her mana forward, a shadow fell across her desk. She looked up to see a tall boy with sharp features leaning casually against the edge of her table, a smug grin tugging at his lips. His uniform was impeccable, his posture effortless, and the faint shimmer of residual magic still clung to his hands from the exercise.
"Well, well," he said, voice dripping with amusement. "So the rumors were true. The princess with the Obsidian Circle invite… and no magic at all."
Anna's stomach twisted, and her fingers clenched under the desk. "I-I… that's not true," she stammered, though her voice lacked confidence.
The boy's grin widened, eyes gleaming with superiority. "Really? Because I watched you the whole class. Not a spark, not a flicker, nothing. Everyone else is lighting candles, moving water, floating feathers—and you? You're… invisible to mana."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a mocking whisper. "It must be nice, huh? Being royalty. You get the prestige, the title, the fancy invite to the elite circle… without even doing the work. Magicless, yet celebrated. Lucky."
Anna flushed crimson, her hands gripping the edge of the desk. She wanted to shout, to show him she could do it—but every time she tried, the hum inside her seemed to recoil, keeping the power locked away.
A few students nearby had begun to glance over, curiosity piqued by the confrontation. The boy straightened, tossing a glance around the room, as if daring someone to defend the "magicless princess."
Anna's jaw tightened, determination flickering in her eyes. "You… you don't know what's going on," she said, her voice shaking but firm. "Just because you see what's on the surface doesn't mean you understand it."
The boy laughed lightly, dismissing her words. "Oh, I understand just fine. You're a princess who can't do magic. That's all the understanding I need."
Anna's heart raced, but deep inside, the faint hum persisted—patient, waiting, like a hidden reservoir of strength that hadn't yet revealed itself.
Anna opened her mouth, a surge of indignation ready to burst out. "You don't know anything! I—" she began, her eyes narrowing, hands curling into fists.
But then she froze mid-sentence. Her father's words echoed in her mind: "Anna, your condition must remain a secret. No one outside this room—no one—can know about the dragon egg. Not yet. Not until we understand the consequences."
Her chest tightened as the weight of that secret pressed down on her. The truth, the incredible power inside her, could not be revealed—not to this smug boy, not to anyone in this classroom.
Anna swallowed hard, forcing the words back down. She straightened slightly, letting a polite, controlled expression take its place.
Before the smug boy could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.
"Careful there Baxter," Kaelan said, stepping forward with a calm but sharp edge to his tone. His eyes, normally warm and easygoing, now held a quiet fire as they fixed on the boy. "You might want to think twice before mocking someone you clearly don't understand."
The boy scoffed, leaning back slightly, attempting to maintain his bravado. "And you are…?"
Kaelan's grin was faint, but it carried the weight of challenge. "Someone who knows enough not to underestimate people. Especially someone who saved me at the Entrance Ceremony. You might want to remember that before calling her 'magicless.'"
Anna blinked, surprised and grateful, her hands unclenching slightly. She hadn't realized how tense she'd become until Kaelan's presence steadied her.
The boy's jaw tightened, but Kaelan didn't let him respond. "Honestly? You're lucky she didn't lose her patience with you. Most people wouldn't be this… merciful. Maybe consider that before spouting nonsense again."
The classroom had gone quiet, students glancing back and forth between Kaelan and the boy, whispers starting to ripple through the rows. Even Professor Mire's eyes flicked up from a desk, noticing the subtle but firm defense.
Anna felt a surge of warmth—relief, pride, and something else she couldn't name—flow through her. Kaelan had her back, and for the first time since she'd entered the room, the weight of being watched and judged didn't feel quite so heavy.
Professor Mire finally stepped forward, his staff lightly tapping the floor. His voice was calm but carried the subtle authority that silenced the murmurs in the room.
"Enough," he said softly, yet firmly, directing his gaze first at Kaelan, then the other boy. "Both of you—back to your seats. Now."
Kaelan gave Anna a brief, reassuring nod before returning to his own desk, sliding into his chair with practiced ease. The other boy scowled but reluctantly obeyed, muttering under his breath as he moved back to his place.
Anna exhaled quietly, her shoulders finally relaxing. She glanced at Kaelan, who gave her a small, almost imperceptible smile—a silent acknowledgment that everything was okay.
Professor Mire turned his attention back to the class, his voice regaining its usual cadence. "Now, let us continue. Focus on your own connection to mana, and remember: comparison breeds distraction. Magic responds to intent and balance, not envy or arrogance."
The faint hum of activity resumed in the classroom as students bent their focus back to their exercises. Anna, hands hovering lightly over her desk, felt the hum within her pulse a little steadier.
The minutes stretched, the soft glow of mana threads dancing around the students' hands, until finally Professor Mire clapped his staff against the floor.
"All right," he said, his voice carrying across the now-quiet room. "Time's up. Remember what you've learned today: your mana is yours to guide, not to force. Class dismissed."
Students began packing their things, murmuring to each other about their progress—or in some cases, their mistakes. Anna gathered her books and scrolls, carefully stacking them on her desk before hoisting her satchel over her shoulder. The faint pulse beneath her skin throbbed softly, a reassuring reminder that she was still connected, even if the world hadn't seen it yet.
She made her way to the door, joining Kaelan and a few others as they exited the classroom. The hallways of Celestara were already bustling with students moving between classes, laughter and chatter echoing against the polished stone walls.
Anna's next class awaited—Taming and Bonding, where students were paired with magical creatures, learning the delicate art of forming a bond with a companion. Her stomach twisted nervously; unlike her peers, she didn't have a creature yet.
Talia and Elara were waiting at the door to the Taming Hall, their expressions bright and encouraging.
Professor Harken stood at the front of the Taming Hall, his tall figure casting a long shadow across the polished floor. His voice boomed, carrying easily over the excited chatter of first-years and the occasional roar or chirp from the creatures housed in the training pens.
"Welcome, students," he began, raising a hand for silence. The murmurs slowly died down, leaving only the low hum of magical energy and the occasional squeak or growl of a nearby creature. "Today, you will begin the foundation of what it means to be a tamer and a bonded mage. Magic alone is only half the skill—your empathy, your patience, and your understanding of the beings you work with will define your success."
He gestured broadly toward the hall. "Each of you will eventually pair with a creature. Most of you already have. You will learn to sense its mood, its needs, and its rhythm. Only then can a true bond form. And to demonstrate what a proper bond looks like, I have invited two exemplary students of Celestara to show you firsthand."
All eyes in the room shifted as Talia and Elara stepped forward, moving confidently toward the center of the hall. A ripple of whispers ran through the first-years.
Professor Harken's gaze swept the room once more, lingering briefly on Anna. "Students, I present your senior mentors for this session: Talia Crestwood and Elara Crestwood."
Talia gave a small wave, her posture calm and composed, while Elara's grin was wide and confident. The students' whispers grew louder, a mixture of awe and curiosity filling the air.
Anna's heart leapt in her chest. She had seen her sisters' strength before, but watching them in this context, demonstrating mastery and control over creatures, made her pulse quicken with excitement—and a spark of nerves.
Professor Harken's voice brought the room back to attention. "Observe closely. Notice the synchronization, the respect, and the communication between mage and creature. Later, you will attempt your first exercises—but first, watch and learn."
Talia and Elara exchanged a quick glance, a silent agreement passing between them. Then, in a practiced motion they summon their bonds.
Talia stepped forward first, her hand rising gracefully as she whispered a soft, melodic incantation. The air shimmered, and a ripple of energy pulsed outward. From the shadowed corners of the hall, a sleek, silver-furred gryphon emerged, wings folding elegantly as it trotted toward her, eyes bright with intelligence and recognition. Its talons clicked softly against the polished floor, but it moved with a fluid grace, every step in perfect harmony with Talia's motions.
Elara followed quickly, her call sharper, more commanding, yet infused with a playful energy. From a nearby pen, a crimson-scaled drake unfurled its wings, sending a ripple of wind through the hall. It landed lightly beside her, nudging her shoulder with its snout in a familiar greeting, smoke curling lazily from its nostrils.
The first-years gasped in unison. Whispers filled the air, some in awe, some tinged with disbelief.
Anna's eyes widened, her pulse quickening. The resonance inside her throbbed softly, a fluttering echo of her dragon egg, as if responding to the creatures before her...