chapter 10

Lessons in Power

The next morning, Elara woke up aching.

Every inch of her body throbbed from the previous night's duel. Even with the Academy's enchanted healing salves, she still felt like she had been trampled by a herd of magical beasts. But she wasn't about to let Lucien Duskbane be the reason she stayed in bed.

Her timetable was packed, but she welcomed the distraction. Today, she had:

Alchemy

Thaumaturgy & Ancient Runes

Bestiary Studies

Combat Magic

She quickly dressed in her uniform—black robes embroidered with silver and blue for her House, Noctis—before heading out.

The corridors buzzed with students hurrying to class, their voices overlapping in a chaotic hum. Floating candles flickered in the air, and enchanted staircases shifted unpredictably, forcing students to leap mid-step or risk tumbling into oblivion.

Elara dodged a first-year who had accidentally turned their entire bag into a swarm of moths, then barely avoided walking straight into a suit of armor that had begun arguing with itself about proper battle strategy.

Just another morning at Astralis Academy.

She was still shaking off the grogginess when someone fell into step beside her.

"Surprised you're still standing, Nightshade."

She glanced over to see Cassius. His uniform was crisp as always, and he walked with an effortless confidence that made it infuriatingly obvious he hadn't spent the night getting his spine nearly shattered.

Elara smirked. "Surprised you're awake before noon, Cassius."

He grinned. "Didn't want to miss watching you fail Alchemy."

"Bold of you to assume I'm the disaster here."

As if on cue, a loud BANG echoed down the hallway. A student stumbled out of a classroom, covered in green slime and looking thoroughly miserable.

Cassius chuckled. "I rest my case."

Elara rolled her eyes as they arrived at their first class.

Alchemy: The Delicate Art of Chaos

The Alchemy laboratory was an expansive room lined with rows of workstations, each equipped with bubbling cauldrons and shelves stocked with exotic ingredients. The air smelled of burnt herbs and something vaguely acidic—probably the result of an unfortunate student's experiment.

At the front of the room stood Professor Kaelthorn, an elf with piercing golden eyes and an aura of unsettling calm. He had a reputation for being a brilliant but ruthless instructor, and the numerous burn marks on the tables suggested his students had suffered for their craft.

"Alchemy is not merely science," he began, his voice smooth yet sharp. "It is transmutation—the ability to take the mundane and make it extraordinary. It is art, magic, and danger combined."

Elara took a seat beside a girl with fiery red hair and an exasperated expression.

"You look thrilled to be here," Elara muttered.

The girl snorted. "I'm Lysandra Valen. And I have precisely zero patience for Alchemy."

Elara grinned. "Great. That makes two of us."

Kaelthorn flicked his fingers, and instructions appeared in glowing script above the cauldrons.

Today's task: Brew a Lunar Enhancement Elixir—a potion that supposedly heightened magical awareness under the moon.

Simple enough.

Elara began gathering ingredients, carefully measuring powdered silver and crushed nightshade petals. But the moment she added a drop of moonlit essence, her potion exploded into thick violet smoke.

A familiar chuckle came from across the room.

Lucien Duskbane.

Of course, his potion was perfectly stable.

Elara gritted her teeth. Not this time.

Determined, she adjusted the ratios, focusing on the subtle magic in the mixture.

The potion shimmered.

Professor Kaelthorn raised an eyebrow in approval.

Elara smirked at Lucien. He didn't smirk back.

She'd won—this round, at least.

Thaumaturgy & Ancient Runes: The Language of Magic

The next class was in one of the oldest wings of the Academy. The stone walls were engraved with runes that pulsed faintly, remnants of spells woven centuries ago.

Professor Selene Vaelora, an ethereal-looking sorceress, swept into the room in robes that shimmered like the night sky. "Magic is a language," she said. "To wield it properly, one must understand it."

Elara loved this class.

They were tasked with deciphering an ancient rune carved into the classroom floor.

It was an intricate protection sigil, but something about it felt… off.

Lysandra frowned. "This isn't a protection spell."

Elara's stomach tightened. It was a seal.

A warning.

Before she could say anything, the rune flared to life.

The ground trembled. The air crackled with energy.

Then, a shadowy figure surged from the runes, its form shifting and flickering between worlds.

Students screamed.

Professor Vaelora reacted instantly, flinging a containment spell that trapped the entity in a glowing sphere of magic. "Who activated it?" she demanded.

Silence.

Elara swallowed hard. She had.

Vaelora's gaze flickered toward her, unreadable. "Stay after class, Nightshade."

Fantastic.

Bestiary Studies: Learning from Monsters

The class was held in an enchanted greenhouse, where rare magical creatures were kept in carefully controlled habitats.

Professor Orion Graves—a towering man with a grizzled demeanor—strode into the room, leading a creature that looked like a lion made of living flame.

"A Pyrelion," he said gruffly. "You will attempt to gain its trust."

Elara took a hesitant step forward. The Pyrelion snarled, flames licking along its mane.

Cassius, ever overconfident, went first.

The Pyrelion pounced immediately.

Cassius barely rolled out of the way in time.

Elara grinned. "Not as charming as you think, huh?"

Cassius scowled.

When it was her turn, she focused on its energy—not forcing submission, but understanding it. Slowly, the Pyrelion's flames dimmed, and it let out a low, pleased rumble.

Professor Graves nodded approvingly.

Cassius? Not pleased.

Combat Magic: A Test of Strength

The final class was held in an open training arena, where students practiced offensive and defensive spells.

The instructor, Master Kain, was a former war mage with a scarred face and an impatient attitude.

"Magic is power," he said. "And power is earned."

They were paired for sparring matches.

Elara's opponent?

Lucien Duskbane.

Again.

The tension was palpable.

Elara steadied her stance, refusing to be intimidated. Lucien twirled his wand lazily. "I hope you put up more of a fight this time."

Their battle was fierce. Sparks flew, spells collided midair, the very ground cracked beneath them.

Elara was faster this time, more precise.

But Lucien was still stronger.

She barely dodged his last attack when the bell rang, ending the match.

Lucien smirked, wiping nonexistent dust off his sleeve. "Getting better, Nightshade."

Elara clenched her jaw.

Next time—she would win.