A New Beginning

I closed the book and glanced at the date—August 12th.

At first, it didn't seem important. Until I remembered.

The Academy of Aetherion stops accepting new students on the 15th.

If I didn't sign up now, I'd lose my chance. And once the deadline passed, there would be no exceptions. With so many students enrolling, they couldn't afford to accept anyone mid-year—it would throw everything off: class sizes, seating arrangements, even supplies. No one wanted to be the kid left standing in the back because they didn't have a damn desk.

The realization hit me like a slap to the face.

Without a second thought, I jumped up, barely managing a rushed "Bye, Mom!" before bolting out the door.

I was determined. Focused. Ready to make this life count.

And then—

"This body is so fucking weak!" I wheezed, barely a minute into running.

God, this was embarrassing.

Back in my old life, I could fight for hours without breaking a sweat, and now? Now I was panting like an old man after a single sprint.

Defeated, I gave up and took the bus.

Arriving at the Academy of Aetherion

The moment I stepped onto the academy grounds, the sheer size of the place hit me.

It was massive.

Students rushed past, teachers prepared for the new year, and the entire campus hummed with electric energy. It was the type of place that made you feel small, like you were on the edge of something monumental.

I didn't waste any time. Straight to the admissions office.

And that's when I saw his name.

Zepharion Vaelthorne – The Dean

The man. The myth. The legend.

I knew him. Not personally, but from my past life. He was a legend in his own right. In a few years, he'd retire, leaving behind a legacy that people would still whisper about long after he was gone.

Despite his age, he radiated power. His white hair was a testament to time's passing, but his posture, his presence—it was the unmistakable aura of a warrior who had seen countless battles.

The moment I stepped inside, he looked up from his desk.

"Are you here to sign up?" he asked, his voice calm yet firm.

"Yes," I replied quickly, "My name is… uh, Renatus Vale."

I surprised myself by recalling it so effortlessly.

"Sign here."

He handed me a form.

I hesitated. "Shouldn't a parent do this?"

He barely glanced at me as he responded, "It'll be sent to your mother for her to sign once you do."

I signed.

The second my pen left the paper, the document vanished—likely teleporting straight to my mother. But something didn't sit right with me.

"How do you know my mother?" I asked.

He looked at me, then smirked.

"There's only one Vale in this city—Sancia Vale."

The moment he said her name, my mind went into overdrive.

Magic bullshit. It had to be magic bullshit.

But before I could dwell on it too much, he suddenly chuckled.

"Watch your tone, kiddo. We don't take kindly to swearing on school grounds."

I jumped. "You read my mind?!"

"Of course," he said, as if it were no big deal. "I only do it to new students to get a feel for what kind of person they are. But you're not odd or anything, so I won't do it again."

Then his expression turned amused.

"But watch that mouth, kid."