Life Vivas Et Prosperaris

The new day began with a surge of life rippling through the academy as the grand halls filled with the murmurs of students stirring from their slumber. Footsteps echoed against the polished floors, voices overlapping in excitement and grogginess alike. The Houses buzzed with morning routines—some students hurriedly dressing, others still struggling to shake off the remnants of sleep. In the midst of this awakening, three figures converged in the main hall—Teryl, Odessa, and Caspian.

Caspian, looking noticeably exhausted, rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he approached the two, his voice carrying a bored tone. "Teryl, Odessa, how are you two doing?" he asked, his words sluggish, his posture betraying his lack of rest.

Teryl, on the other hand, let out a loud yawn, stretching his arms above his head before grinning. "Ah, I had a decent sleep, to be honest. But damn, it was a rough night with Orion as my roommate. That guy is full of energy. He talks in his sleep. He moves in his sleep. I swear he even snores in a rhythm." He let out a chuckle before yawning again, shaking his head.

Odessa, however, seemed completely unbothered by the grogginess of her peers. She practically radiated warmth, her smile as bright as the morning sun. "I'm doing just fine," she said sweetly, her voice carrying a soothing melody to it. Without hesitation, she looped her arm around Teryl's, pressing herself against him as if claiming her personal source of warmth for the morning. Her modest chest pressed against his arm, making him momentarily tense before sighing in defeat, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

As they continued toward their first class of the day, a sudden, powerful gust of wind swept through the corridor ahead of them, ruffling clothes and making loose papers flutter into the air. The three instinctively halted, exchanging glances before rushing toward the source of the disturbance.

The scene they stumbled upon was tense—Orion and Kairos stood in the middle of the hallway, locked in confrontation. Orion's stance was firm, his hands raised slightly, glowing faintly with swirling wind magic, while Kairos—his face twisted in anger—was pushing forward, trying to break through the invisible force restraining him. His body trembled with frustration, his usual composed demeanor shattered as his eyes burned with unrestrained fury.

"How dare you stop me?!" Kairos snarled, his voice echoing down the corridor. "I have unfinished business with that little shit!" His noble heir presence was undeniable, but at this moment, it was overshadowed by pure, unfiltered rage.

Orion, though visibly struggling to hold him back, didn't falter. "You're being irrational, Kairos," he said, his voice steady despite the strain. "If you keep pushing forward, you'll regret it. Think."

But Kairos wasn't listening. His sights were locked onto Ladon, who sat leisurely just a few feet away, his leg crossed over his knee, one fist propped against his cheek as if the entire spectacle was nothing more than a mild source of entertainment. His expression was one of utter boredom, yet his eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched Kairos thrash against Orion's restraint.

Finally, Ladon spoke, his voice calm yet dripping with condescension. "Kairos…" he drawled, tilting his head slightly. "You should think before doing something stupid. After all, you wouldn't want to end up in the infirmary again, would you?"

As if to punctuate his words, Ladon lifted his free hand, lazily cracking his knuckles, his smirk widening. The sound alone made something in Kairos snap. His body tensed, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, but for a brief moment—just a moment—hesitation flickered in his eyes. The memory of being sent flying with a single punch, the humiliation of waking up in the infirmary, the whispers of the other students… all of it came rushing back.

And Ladon knew it.

His smirk never wavered as he leaned back slightly, his presence exuding an unshakable confidence. "Come on then, heir of Varelius," he taunted. "Show me what you've got."

The tension in the air was suffocating, the surrounding students too afraid to intervene, too eager to see what would unfold. But in the end, the question remained—would Kairos strike, or would he falter?

Teryl, who had been watching the tension build with an ever-growing sense of unease, rushed between them without hesitation. He threw his arms out to separate them, his voice firm and commanding.

"Kairos, Orion—knock it off! This is neutral ground! We shouldn't be fighting in the academy corridors like a bunch of reckless fools. If you two want to settle things, then do it properly—at the training grounds. Not here, not now."

Then, his sharp gaze turned to Ladon, who was still lounging in his seat, entirely unbothered by the situation.

"And you, Ladon… Cut it out already. We get it. You're strong. You don't need to keep rubbing it in everyone's face." His tone carried an edge of frustration, though it was clear he wasn't looking for a fight—just an end to this pointless standoff.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, Orion suddenly grinned, finally releasing his control over the gust of wind that had been pinning Kairos in place. He stretched his arms above his head, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Aaaah! Finally, someone did something!" he said, hopping from one foot to the other with restless energy. Then, as if to push his luck, he stuck his tongue out at Kairos playfully.

Kairos, still visibly seething, didn't react immediately. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he glared daggers at Ladon, but after a few tense moments, he exhaled sharply, clicking his tongue in irritation before turning away. He wasn't done with Ladon—but today was not the day.

Just then, Elias arrived, casually strolling toward the group as he rubbed the back of his head. His expression fell into a disappointed sigh as he glanced around at the aftermath.

"Damn… I missed it." He muttered, shaking his head as he walked past Teryl, Odessa, and the other gathered students.

However, something about him was… different.

Teryl, who was still recovering from the chaos, blinked in confusion as he noticed something strange—Elias looked taller than he had yesterday. Not by much, but just enough to be noticeable.

Odessa caught it too, tilting her head slightly. "Wait… Elias, did you always—"

Before she could finish, Elias had already passed them, heading off as if nothing had changed. But something had changed.

And none of them could quite put their finger on it.

Caspian narrowed his eyes slightly, watching Elias walk away before turning his attention to Odessa.

"Hm? Was something off about Elias?" he asked, his voice carrying mild curiosity.

Odessa, still staring after Elias, turned her head to Caspian and nodded. "You didn't notice? He's slightly taller than he was yesterday. Don't you see it?"

Caspian raised an eyebrow before looking at Elias again. The tall young man wasn't hard to spot in a crowd, already standing out with his naturally broad build. Caspian squinted, trying to discern any difference, but after a few moments, he simply shrugged.

"I don't think so… I don't really see much of a difference." He admitted, tilting his head slightly as if trying to make sense of Odessa's observation. He even leaned forward a little, as if that would help him notice whatever she was seeing.

But no matter how hard he looked, Elias seemed the same to him.

Teryl, who had been lost in thought after the previous confrontation, finally turned back to Odessa and Caspian, rolling his shoulders as he let out a small sigh. "Whatever it is, we can worry about it later. We should get moving before we're late."

With that, the three of them resumed their walk through the academy halls, heading toward their first class of the day—History.

As they walked, Odessa occasionally glanced back, her mind still lingering on Elias.

Something about him had changed.

And she wasn't sure why… But she intended to find out.

The first classroom was nothing short of breathtaking. The walls were adorned with ancient tapestries depicting key moments in history, while tall bookshelves lined the sides, filled with old tomes and scrolls that seemed to whisper forgotten stories. A massive map of the known world stretched across the farthest wall, illuminated by soft, enchanted lanterns that gave the room a warm, golden glow. It was a space designed to make students feel the weight of history itself.

At the front of the room, sitting comfortably in a luxurious leather chair, was Octavia Rook—a woman of composed elegance, with piercing eyes that seemed to hold centuries' worth of knowledge. She crossed one leg over the other and clapped her hands together with a welcoming smile.

"Welcome, students." Her voice was calm yet commanding, instantly drawing the room's attention. "I trust you remember who I am. For those who don't, I am your history instructor, Octavia Rook. It's a pleasure to meet you all properly."

The students murmured their greetings before Octavia gestured for them to introduce themselves one by one. Each name carried a different weight in the air as they spoke.

"Kairos Varelius." His voice was sharp, edged with the lingering frustration from earlier.

"Teryl Volcaryn." A casual grin played on his lips as he spoke, hands shoved into his pockets.

"Odessa Stephyn." She smiled sweetly, maintaining her usual poise.

"Caspian Harkin." His tone was smooth yet unreadable, as if he were analyzing everyone in the room.

"Ladon Roselei." His introduction was brief, his voice laced with boredom.

"Orion Faelan!" Orion practically beamed, his energy infectious.

And lastly, "Elias Thornhart." His voice was steady, though there was something different about him today—something subtle yet undeniable.

With introductions finished, Octavia gave a small nod before lifting a sleek, ornate wand with effortless grace.

"Please, watch closely," she instructed, flicking her wrist in a fluid motion. "Flux Formula #2—Loated Levia."

At once, the bookshelves trembled as heavy, dust-covered tomes began to float from their places. The books glided smoothly through the air before landing in front of each student with gentle precision.

"These are your history texts," Octavia continued, placing her wand down on the desk. "They are to remain in this classroom so that no one conveniently 'forgets' to bring them."

She clapped her hands again, signaling the start of the lesson.

"Now, let us begin."

The atmosphere in the room shifted as she spoke, her words weaving a narrative that felt almost tangible.

"As many of you know, the world, its magic, and all that binds it together stem from one divine entity—our most beloved goddess, Eveliriana. It was she who granted us knowledge, understanding, and most importantly… magic."

A hushed reverence fell over the room as she continued.

"She shaped magic to fit us, gifting each of us with power she deemed suitable. But she is not alone. There are other deities who have influenced the flow of magic throughout time."

With elegant precision, she turned to the massive blackboard and began writing names in flawless script.

"Yoerier the God of Weather.

Cerbecks the God of the Underworld.

Oziaayah the God of Strength and Willpower."

She tapped the board with her finger, underlining the last name before turning back to the class.

"Now, can anyone tell me what the first ever recorded historical event was?"

A few students hesitated before raising their hands. Octavia scanned the room before selecting a young woman near the front.

"The… War of Deucalion?" the student answered hesitantly.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Octavia's lips.

"Yes, exactly."

The room grew even quieter as she turned back toward the board, ready to delve into the brutal war that shaped the foundations of their world.

Octavia's eyes gleamed with interest as she turned back to the class, stepping away from the blackboard and folding her hands behind her back.

"The War of Deucalion," she began, her voice steady and composed, "was the most catastrophic conflict in our recorded history. A war so great, so destructive, that it reshaped existence itself—dividing reality into three distinct realms: Eatheris, Shea'Therar, and the Material World."

A soft murmur rippled through the students. Even those who had heard of the war before leaned in, eager to hear more. Octavia smiled knowingly, allowing a moment of silence before continuing.

"This war was waged between two powerful races: the Saintkin and the Fiendkin. On one side, the Saintkin—beings of divine essence, blessed by the goddess Eveliriana herself. They were the guardians of order, the champions of light, and the first to harness the sacred energies of the cosmos. At the head of their armies stood the Archangels, celestial warriors of unimaginable strength, and the Saints, mortals who had ascended to near-godhood through unwavering devotion."

She flicked her wand again, and the enchanted blackboard behind her shifted, forming an elegant illustration of radiant beings adorned in golden armor, wielding weapons forged from pure light.

"Opposing them were the Fiendkin—the cursed children of Shea'Therar, born of chaos, ambition, and hunger. Demons, warlords, and dark sorcerers who sought dominion over creation itself. They were led by the Abyssal Lords, ancient entities of unfathomable power, and the Fallen, those who had once walked in the light but had turned against it, seeking forbidden knowledge and strength."

The illustration shifted, now depicting monstrous figures cloaked in shadows, their jagged weapons dripping with corrupted energy. Flames flickered at their feet, and above them loomed a vast, horned figure—perhaps a depiction of the first Fiendlord himself.

"For centuries, the war raged across the Primordial World, a time when all realms were still one. Entire continents crumbled beneath the clashing forces. Cities of gold and ivory were reduced to dust, and oceans boiled with the power unleashed upon them. The Saintkin, believing themselves righteous, sought to purge all darkness. The Fiendkin, in their defiance, wished to cast down the gods and claim dominion over creation."

Her voice grew softer, almost somber. "It was not a war of mortals, but of ideals—of purity against corruption, order against chaos. And neither side was willing to yield."

The classroom remained deathly silent, captivated by the weight of her words.

Then, the illustrations changed once more.

"In the final days of the war, the fabric of reality itself could no longer withstand the destruction. The gods, fearing that all of existence would be lost, intervened. And so, the world was ruptured."

With a single stroke of her wand, the image of the Primordial World split apart.

"Eatheris—the Realm of Light—was born from the remnants of the Saintkin's victories. It became the dwelling place of gods, angels, and those who had earned their place in the heavens. A land of eternal radiance, untouched by darkness."

The golden cities reappeared, now floating above the shattered world, bathed in divine light.

"Shea'Therar—the Abyss—was forged from the hatred and ambition of the defeated Fiendkin. A cursed realm of fire, darkness, and endless war. Here, the Lords of the Abyss rule, plotting their vengeance upon the world that cast them out."

The image shifted again, depicting a land of molten rock and swirling shadows, where colossal fortresses loomed over rivers of blood and flame.

"And finally…" She tapped the board once more, and an image of a familiar world appeared.

"…the Material Realm was created. A fragile balance between light and darkness. The world as we know it. Here, the remnants of both Saintkin and Fiendkin linger, their bloodlines carried through generations, their magic still woven into the very fabric of our existence."

She lowered her wand, letting the image linger before turning to face the class once more.

"This… is the legacy of the War of Deucalion."

A heavy silence followed. For a moment, the weight of history pressed upon them all. Then, finally, Octavia smiled.

"Now… let's see how much of that you actually understood."

Groans echoed across the room as books flipped open, and the lesson continued.

Caspian raised his hand, his expression thoughtful yet troubled. "Professor Rook, if the Fiendkin and demons reside in Shea'Therar, and the Saintkin and gods rule over Eatheris… does that mean our world was never meant to exist as its own? Are we merely the remnants of a battlefield, the ashes left behind after the corpses of saints and fiends fell?"

The room remained silent, the weight of Octavia's words settling over the students like a heavy fog. Caspian furrowed his brow, processing the implications. The idea that their very existence was built upon the remnants of a war beyond comprehension—that they were, in essence, children of both light and darkness—was both unsettling and profound.

Teryl leaned back slightly in his chair, arms crossed. "So, what you're saying is… we're all just echoes of something much greater? That our world is just… leftovers?"

Octavia gave a knowing smile. "'Leftovers' is a crude way to put it, but in a sense, yes. The Material Realm was born from the ashes of that ancient war, from the fallen bodies of divine and infernal beings alike. It is why humans—and all mortal creatures—are capable of both great kindness and great cruelty. You carry within you the essence of both Saintkin and Fiendkin, even if it's diluted over millennia. That is what makes this world unique."

Odessa shifted uncomfortably, glancing at her hands as if expecting to see traces of celestial or demonic power lingering there. "But… does that mean we're just tools in some greater conflict?"

Octavia tilted her head. "Only if you choose to be." She tapped the chalk against the blackboard absentmindedly before continuing. "Some believe that history is doomed to repeat itself, that one day, the War of Deucalion will reignite, and the realms will once again collide. Others believe that mortals—because of their unique nature—have the power to forge a new path, separate from the battles of gods and devils. The question, my dear students, is this: will you be shackled by the past, or will you carve out your own destiny?"

A hushed murmur spread through the class. Even those who had seemed uninterested before now sat with expressions of deep thought.

Kairos, who had been sitting in silence up until now, clenched his jaw. The idea that he, a noble heir of Varelius, shared the same fragmented origins as everyone else in the room—commoners, dormants, and so-called prodigies alike—did not sit well with him. "Hmph." He scoffed, leaning back with his arms crossed, but he said nothing more.

Ladon, on the other hand, simply smirked, tapping his fingers against the desk. "Sounds like a load of philosophy to me. At the end of the day, power is power. Whether it's Saintkin, Fiendkin, or mortal-born, those who can take it will."

Octavia gave him a sharp look. "And yet, history is filled with those who thought the same… and fell."

Ladon's smirk widened. "Then I guess I'll just have to make sure I'm not one of them."

The tension in the room was thick, a mixture of awe, unease, and intrigue. Octavia let it settle before she finally turned back to the board, gracefully moving past the charged atmosphere she had created.

"Well then, let's move on. Since we've touched on the War of Deucalion, let's discuss the founding of the Great Kingdoms and how the remnants of that war shaped the world we live in today."

Despite the shift in topic, the weight of her earlier words lingered, buried in the minds of every student present. The lesson continued, but something unspoken had changed. A new awareness had taken root in them—a realization that their world, their magic, and even their very souls were forged from something far older and far more dangerous than they had ever imagined.

"The last thing we will talk about today are the Great Kingdoms. Their history will be a topic for our next lesson, but just to settle it, can anyone tell me what the Great Kingdoms are?" Octavia asked, looking around the classroom with a glint of curiosity.

Odessa raised her hand eagerly, her voice clear as she spoke. "The Great Kingdom of Leafora, the Kingdom of Elves. The Great Kingdom of Rochavon, the Kingdom of Giants. The Great Kingdom of Oroboros, the Kingdom of Turthlkin. The Great Kingdom of Morvindar, the Kingdom of Dwarfs… And a few more..."

Octavia nodded, encouraging Odessa's response. "Yes, exactly. There are many more, but let me briefly explain some of the more significant ones." She gestured to the board, where the names of the kingdoms appeared one by one, glowing in bold letters.

"First, we have Leafora, the Kingdom of Elves. It was founded by Elaris Starwind, an Elven queen known for her wisdom and mastery of magic. Under her leadership, the once fractured Elven tribes united, forging a kingdom that flourished in the heart of ancient forests. Known for their longevity and deep connection to nature, the Elves of Leafora believe in harmony and wisdom. Their capital, Elenor, is said to be the most beautiful city in the world, with towering trees and shimmering waterfalls."

"Next," Octavia continued, "is Rochavon, the Kingdom of Giants. This kingdom was founded by Galdor the Mighty, a colossal warrior who brought together the fractured clans of Giants after a long period of warfare. The Giants, known for their incredible strength and endurance, built their kingdom high in the mountains, where their fortresses and halls are carved into the very rock itself. The kingdom is a land of towering stone castles and vast battlegrounds, where the Giants train to keep their ancient traditions alive."

Octavia paused, allowing the students to absorb the information before moving on to the next kingdom.

"Then we have Oroboros, the Kingdom of the Turthlkin. The Turthlkin are a race of turtle-like beings—tortles—known for their incredible longevity and profound connection to magic. The kingdom was founded by Tyros Stonefist, a legendary Turthlkin hero who led his people to establish their society after they were scattered and pursued by dangerous forces. The Turthlkin have a unique affinity with the arcane, often regarded as the most powerful magicians, capable of drawing on the natural world's energies with ease. Their capital, Orogar, lies on a massive, ancient island surrounded by mystic seas, with massive crystal temples devoted to their studies of magic. The Turthlkin value wisdom, peace, and the preservation of the natural world."

"Another significant kingdom," Octavia said, moving on, "is Morvindar, the Kingdom of Dwarfs. This kingdom was founded by Haldir Ironsoul, a Dwarven king who united the scattered clans during the Great Forge Wars. Morvindar is a kingdom built deep within the mountains, known for its vast mines, forges, and impressive architecture. The Dwarfs are renowned for their craftsmanship, creating weapons and armor of unparalleled quality. The capital, Ironhall, is a city carved from the heart of the mountains, and it is said that the Dwarfs have never known defeat in battle."

Odessa, still eager to share more, added, "There are also Nazzaria, the great Kingdom of Leone, and Vexis, the Kingdom of Humankind."

Octavia smiled at Odessa's input. "Yes, indeed. Nazzaria is the kingdom of the Leone people, a proud feline race made up of lions, tigers, panthers, and various other cat-like beings. Nazzaria was founded by Emperor Fenix Leone, a legendary warrior who united the scattered tribes of the Leone after the fall of the First Empire. Known for their agility, strength, and pride, the Leone people are fierce warriors and protectors of their land. Nazzaria itself is a kingdom of endless savannas, deserts, and towering stone cities, and the Leone capital of Nazzar is a magnificent example of their royal prowess. The Leone people are known for their noble lineage and a society built on honor, strength, and courage."

"And then we have Vexis, the Kingdom of Humankind, founded by Queen Aleris Vex. Vexis is a kingdom built on knowledge and magic, where scholars, mages, and philosophers gather to study and uncover the mysteries of the world. Queen Aleris, a brilliant mage in her own right, established Vexis as a center of learning and magical study. The capital city of Vexis Prime is home to some of the greatest minds in the world, and the kingdom is known for its contributions to both magic and technology."

"These are just a few of the Great Kingdoms that shape the world we live in," Octavia concluded. "Each of them has its own history, its own traditions, and its own role to play in the ongoing balance of power. We will dive deeper into their histories next time, but for now, remember these names and their founders—they will play a significant part in your understanding of our world."

The classroom fell into a quiet murmur as students reflected on the stories of the great kingdoms, each one a piece of the intricate puzzle that shaped their world. Octavia gave them a knowing smile before continuing with the lesson.

The history class had ended, and as the students walked out of the room, the halls buzzed with a strange mix of energy. Some felt inspired, eager to learn more about the intricate web of the world's past. Others, however, were left with a lingering sense of unease, the weight of learning that they were, in essence, the remnants of something far greater. The idea that they, and their world, were built upon the bones of ancient gods and long-dead civilizations was a sobering thought. It was a reminder that even the mightiest of forces, the ones who shaped history, eventually crumbled to dust.

As the students filtered out, their minds heavy with the lesson, the atmosphere shifted to something more pressing.

---

In the Principal's office, the air was thick with a sense of urgency. Eryx sat behind his grand desk, the polished surface gleaming under the soft light. His gaze was intense, focused, as he looked across the table at Marfiera, who had placed an array of chestplate pieces in front of him. The armor seemed unremarkable at first glance, but the faint aura of magic surrounding it told a different story.

"What is this, Marfiera?" Eryx's voice was low, his brow furrowing as he studied the pieces. The chestplate had intricate designs, with faint symbols of protection etched into its surface.

"The armor of one of our knights," Marfiera replied, her tone unwavering. She carefully ran her fingers over the pieces, as if to gauge their weight, their potential. "These armors were enchanted with powerful defense magic, specifically designed to be immune to any physical damage dealt by 4th-level mages and above."

Eryx leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing in thought. The significance of the armor was clear, but something about this didn't sit right with him. He was used to seeing strange and powerful artifacts, but there was something unsettling in Marfiera's demeanor. "So?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. "What's so special about this? Armor like this is rare, but not impossible."

Marfiera paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts before meeting Eryx's gaze. "It was shattered by a mage," she said softly, her voice almost reluctant. "A student—Ladon Roselei."

The revelation caught Eryx off guard, though he masked his surprise well. "Shattered? By a student?" he repeated, his tone flat. "That shouldn't be possible. Even the most skilled of mages can't simply shatter enchanted armor with a single blow."

Marfiera nodded gravely. "Yes, that's what makes this unusual. The armor wasn't weakened in any way, and yet, it was destroyed—by a single strike."

Eryx leaned forward, his eyes now focused on the pieces before him. "Are you sure about this? Could there be any explanation? A flaw in the enchantments, perhaps?"

Marfiera shook her head, her voice unwavering. "I checked. Everything was intact. This wasn't just a mishap, Eryx. This... this shouldn't have happened."

A long silence followed, the weight of her words settling over the room. Eryx stared at the pieces of armor, his mind racing with possibilities. If a student, particularly someone untested like Ladon, had shattered such a powerful artifact... then there was more at play here than just a simple accident.

"If a student can do something like this, what does it mean for us?" Eryx muttered to himself, more to his thoughts than to Marfiera.

Marfiera's gaze was steady. "We may be dealing with something we don't fully understand yet. This student—Ladon Roselei—he has potential. But what kind of potential? That's what we need to find out."

Eryx stood up, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked out the window, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Keep an eye on him, Marfiera. And on all the students. We can't afford to overlook anything—especially now."

The break was a welcome relief, a brief half-hour of free time after the intensity of history class. Odessa, Teryl, and Caspian sat together near the courtyard, the sunlight warming their faces as they exchanged thoughts on the day's lesson. The tension from the history class still lingered, but at least they had this moment to breathe.

As they chatted, the calm was abruptly interrupted by two figures walking past them. Ladon and Orion. Ladon, as usual, had his nonchalant air about him, while Orion's usual energetic vibe seemed to fill the air like an electric current.

"Hey," Ladon said casually, his eyes locking on Teryl. His tone was light, but there was a hint of something more behind it. Teryl, instinctively, met his gaze with a sharp, unyielding stare, the tension between them still palpable. He didn't appreciate the casualness in Ladon's voice, not after what had happened during the test.

"Calm down," Ladon continued, his voice more relaxed now. "I'm not here to pick a fight. Not like you could do anything about it anyway." He gave a brief smirk before continuing, "But hey, just thought I'd let you know. We've got a change in the schedule. Instead of wand formula practice, we'll be doing combat training today with some guy named Donovan."

Teryl's expression hardened, but he said nothing. Caspian, who had been quietly observing, raised an eyebrow, but before he could speak, Orion, who had been walking beside Ladon, couldn't contain his excitement any longer.

"Isn't it great?!" Orion chimed in, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "We're gonna fight each other! Heh!" He threw his hands in the air, practically bouncing on his heels as if the mere thought of combat thrilled him.

Odessa, who had been watching the exchange, glanced at Teryl, then back at Ladon and Orion. There was no doubt in her mind that this was going to be one intense training session. But what stood out to her most was how, despite all the chaos brewing around them, Orion seemed almost too excited. His energy was contagious, but there was a strange edge to it that made her wonder just how far he'd be willing to go to prove himself.

Ladon shot Teryl one last glance, almost like a dare, before he and Orion moved on, their voices fading as they walked further down the hall.

"Looks like things are about to get real," Caspian muttered, his grin returning as he stood up. "Let's see how you all handle this Donovan guy. Sounds like he might be worth watching."

Odessa nodded in agreement, her mind already shifting toward the upcoming combat training. It was one thing to learn theory, but this... this was different. The reality of what was to come hung heavy in the air.

"Fight among us? Man, this is great! I really wanted to do this!" Caspian exclaimed, his voice filled with a rush of excitement. His eyes scanned the area, watching as students bustled around, each one seemingly more interesting than the last. "There are so many good mages here..."

Odessa chuckled and smiled, giving Caspian a reassuring glance. "Don't worry. These spars won't be anything more than just... well, sparring. Nothing will happen," she said, her tone light but confident. She stood up, stretching as she glanced toward the training grounds where they would be meeting soon.

Teryl, still seated, let out a sigh. He wasn't nearly as enthusiastic as Caspian. "Well, we can hope for that... But Ladon isn't really, how do I put it... a kind guy—"

Before he could finish, Odessa raised a hand, cutting him off. "But wait," she said, her brow furrowed in thought, "Sidius Donovan is teaching us Magic Combat, and with that, I think Ladon should be allowed to use physical attacks. Unless his magic is bound to strength, of course."

Her explanation hung in the air for a moment. Teryl nodded slowly, understanding now. He had only assumed that Ladon's strength had something to do with his connection to magic, given his impressive form and demeanor. But if Donovan was teaching them, there might be exceptions made for certain forms of combat.

As they spoke, Ladon and Orion continued walking ahead, their voices carrying lightly in the quiet hallways.

"So, what will you do?" Orion asked, an almost playful glint in his eye as he looked over at Ladon. "You're a dormant mage, right? I've never seen you carry a grimoire. Let me ask you, do you actually—"

Before Orion could finish his sentence, Ladon's hand shot up, gently flicking his forehead in a swift motion. "Tsk... If I have a grimoire? Of course, I do. I might be a dormant mage, but that doesn't mean I don't have one." His voice was casual, but there was a subtle edge to it, a note of pride that Orion couldn't ignore.

Orion's eyes went wide, his face lighting up in awe. "Uwaaa! A dormant mage with a grimoire? That's really rare! I've never seen that before! Show me, show me?" His excitement was palpable as he bounced around like a child who had just discovered a treasure.

Ladon sighed deeply, clearly amused but not bothered. "Soon, you'll see it," he said, his voice carrying a slight smirk. There was something almost dangerous about the way he spoke, as if he was preparing for something even greater than anyone could anticipate.

Meanwhile, in another corner of the academy, Kairos paced back and forth, his expression darkening as he muttered to himself. "Magic combat practice," he said under his breath, his grin spreading wide across his face. "Finally, I'll show him... That dipshit will soon know who he's messing with."

There was an almost predatory glint in his eyes, a mix of anger and excitement as he thought about the coming combat session. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this, a chance to prove himself, to put his strength to the test. There was a burning determination in his chest, one that had been building ever since his defeat at the hands of Ladon. He wasn't going to be outshined again.

As the clock ticked closer to the beginning of the combat session, the tension in the air grew thicker. Each of them, whether they realized it or not, was preparing for something more than just a simple training exercise.

The students were about to experience something that would push them to their limits. And for some, it would be the beginning of a rivalry that would define their time at the academy. The line between friend and foe would soon blur, and what started as innocent sparring would evolve into something far more personal.

Ladon, Orion, Teryl, Odessa, Kairos... their paths were about to cross in ways none of them could have predicted, and their true abilities, their deepest desires, would be tested.

It was only a matter of time before the battle for dominance began.

The students gathered on the vast training grounds, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the expansive field. They were lined up according to their houses, from the fiery red banners of House Ignis to the mysterious and shadowed banners of House Umbra, each house's colors and crests proudly displayed. The air buzzed with anticipation as the students whispered amongst themselves, unsure of what to expect.

At the front of the gathering stood the four headmasters, each representing the strength and ideals of their respective houses. The first to catch the eye was Reynard Roctorn, House Ignis' Housemaster. His tall frame exuded confidence and authority, his crimson-red cloak catching the breeze as he scanned the crowd. Beside him, the ever-composed and serene Seraphina Nova, House Lumen's Housemistress, stood with her calm demeanor, her silvery-white hair glowing almost ethereally in the light. On her right, the stout and grounded Brogk Hillor, House Terra's Housemaster, crossed his thick arms, his solid stance radiating strength and a deep-rooted connection to the earth. Finally, the enigmatic and sharp-eyed Vayne Ji Rozé, House Umbra's Housemistress, stood apart from the rest, her dark attire contrasting with the golden embroidery that symbolized her house. There was a quiet intensity about her, as if she were always one step ahead, her dark eyes scanning every student with keen interest.

Standing alongside them was Sidius Donovan, the instructor for today's battle training. His presence was undeniable, a man who had seen countless battles and had the scars to prove it. His deep voice cut through the chatter as he spoke to the students.

"Welcome, students," Sidius began, his voice commanding attention. "Today, you will be tested not only on your magical prowess but on your ability to think on your feet in the heat of combat. This training is designed to push you, to make you better—both as mages and as warriors. Whether you fight with spells or with the raw strength of your will, today you will learn how to wield your abilities with precision and purpose."

He paused, letting the words sink in before continuing, "I know that many of you have never faced a real battle before, but I assure you, you will find that there is no better way to learn than through experience. Fear is your enemy, but we will teach you how to face it head-on. Each of you has the potential to become something great, but only if you push beyond your limits."

A faint smile curled on his lips as he added, "With the guidance of your Housemasters, some of you will be selected to participate in one-on-one combat. Don't be afraid to step forward—this is about growth, not just winning. If at any point you feel you're outmatched, it's okay to give up, but remember, it will impact your progress. No one is judging you—except for yourself."

At this, the four Housemasters exchanged glances, each of them seemingly taking the role of mentor and observer in their own unique way.

"Let the trials begin," Sidius said, stepping aside, his hand gesturing toward the wide training grounds where a series of marked-out battle zones awaited.

Reynard, Seraphina, Brogk, and Vayne stood behind the students, each Housemaster silently evaluating who would step forward. The moment of truth was near

the trials had begun.