S1 Chapter 11- True Beginning

Three months passed in what felt like the blink of an eye.

For Kyle, it was a quiet, necessary blur of adjustment and study—one he welcomed more than he thought he would.

While most of his peers spent their first months exploring the sprawling markets, vibrant theaters, and glittering mage quarters of Ardenhall, Kyle found himself drawn to the silent, towering walls of the Runemark Archives.

It became his sanctuary.

He spent hours among dust-laden tomes and floating crystal records, piecing together the fragmented, sprawling narrative of the world—how it had been reshaped when mana bled into nature itself two centuries ago. The history was dense, often contradictory, but Kyle absorbed it all with a hunger few could match.

He didn't speak much about what he read, not even to Orin or Mirai. Part of him needed time to process it before dragging the knowledge out into the light.

Besides, the new academic year was approaching fast, and the energy around the academy had shifted.

The air grew sharper, heavy with both excitement and the quiet dread of real expectations.

The day of the official Welcome Ceremony arrived on a crisp morning, the sky stretched wide and pale over Sanctum Magna's marble towers.

Students gathered in the Grand Assembly Hall—a vast, circular structure built at the academy's center, with an open roof that allowed the sky itself to bear witness.

House banners hung along the walls: crimson for Vermillion, silver for Boreal, gold for Aurora, and deep violet for Noctis.

Kyle found his assigned seating easily enough—House Noctis students were grouped together on the western side, their section quieter and more observant than the others.

Across the hall, Orin waved frantically, mouthing exaggerated words Kyle couldn't quite make out. Kyle gave a small nod in return but otherwise stayed where he was.

He had other things on his mind.

On the central platform stood a few professors and deans—although Kyle immediately noticed the absence of several. Not every professor chose to attend the ceremony, he recalled overhearing.

Predictably, Professor Iskra was nowhere to be seen.

Typical. The rumours seemed to have held themselves true.

A tall woman in indigo robes stepped forward. Her presence demanded attention—sharp and measured.

"Welcome," she said, her voice carrying easily across the massive hall without the aid of amplification magic. "I am Dean Seraphine Eldevar of the College of Arcane Theory. Today marks the beginning of your true education within the halls of Sanctum Magna."

She swept a hand toward the gathered professors.

"Some of your instructors have joined us today. Others believe their time is better spent preparing for your instruction—or safeguarding their own studies. Do not take offense. Here, learning is not bound by ceremony, but by will."

Kyle respected that sentiment more than he thought he would.

Dean Seraphine continued, "You have been ranked. You have been assigned to Houses. Now, you will be shaped."

With a flick of her wrist, hundreds of small crystal slates floated from behind her, dispersing neatly into the crowd. Each hovered in front of a first-year student until the faint glow of recognition from the sigil on their hand allowed them to grasp it.

Kyle caught his without trouble.

The slate was thin and light, yet when he brushed his thumb over its surface, pages of information unfurled like liquid ink.

"This," the Dean said, "is your curriculum for the next three years. Treat it as both map and measure. It will show you what is required—and hint at what is possible."

Looks like it's using a form of projection magic, and the form is similar to communication devices from two centuries ago, phones I think. Kyle mused as he observed the device before activating it and skimming the first page.

Sanctum Magna Curriculum Overview

Years of Study: Three

Core Objectives: Mastery of Fundamental Magical Application, Scholarly Development, and Specialization.

Year One Focus:

-Magical Foundations

-Spellcraft and Control

-Magical Theory and History

-Elemental Dynamics

Year Two Focus:

-Advanced Application

-Specialized Studies

-Field Trials

-Scholarly Research Project (Mandatory)

Year Three Focus:

-Mastery Trials

-Guild and Academic Placement Preparation

-Optional Thesis Defense for Magna Distinction

Beneath the structure of the years lay a list of available courses—dozens of them, ranging from practical combat magic to alchemical theory, divination practices, ancient language studies, and rare fields like Voidcraft and Spirit Negotiation.

Kyle's eyes narrowed at the note near the bottom of the list:

Mandatory Course Enrolment:

Students must select a minimum of two Core Classes.

Additional elective courses are encouraged, but overcommitment is discouraged.

He let out a slow breath, considering.

It was clear: they were being given the freedom to shape their education, but the structure around it was no less demanding. Freedom, at a price.

Dean Seraphine spoke again, her voice lighter now.

"Choose wisely. The paths you walk here will forge the shape of your futures. But remember—foundations must be strong before towers can be built."

Another professor—a bearded man with thick spectacles—stepped forward and mumbled something about library privileges, research access times, and cafeteria schedules, but Kyle's attention was already drifting.

He tapped through the electives list, making mental notes:

Course Offers:

Combat Arts: Practical Magic Application

Runes and Enchantments

Mana Ecology

Ancient Languages and Cryptography

World Magic History

And far below, less popular courses:

Void Studies

Forbidden Thaumaturgy (Restricted Entry)

No point biting off more than I can chew, Kyle thought. Still, a part of him itched to explore the less-travelled paths. 

I'll need to research a bit on these afterwards. Kyle thought.

The ceremony wound down quickly after that. There were no grand speeches, no flashy magical displays—not here at least. Most at Sanctum Magna had little interest in spectacle when the real work lay ahead.

As students began filtering out in clusters and pairs, Kyle lingered, rereading parts of the curriculum slate.

"You're seriously gonna stand there reading all day?" a familiar voice teased.

Kyle glanced up to see Mirai, arms crossed under her chest and smirking.

"You could at least pretend to be overwhelmed like the others," she said, nodding toward the dozens of stunned, wide-eyed students slowly realizing just how much work awaited them.

Kyle shrugged. "Better to know what you're facing. And last I checked, I figured you'd already graduated. I half expected to never see you again."

Mirai laughed. "That hurts my heart. Second-year at the end of the term, third-year at the start of the next—basically the same thing."

"You sound like Professor Iskra," Mirai added said dryly. "Except she'd probably remind you that she doesn't get paid enough to care what you do."

"Wise words. I like her already," Kyle added.

"Don't go falling for teachers now, Kyle," Orin called out as he walked up to them.

Mirai chuckled. "Anyway, what classes are you thinking about?"

"Haven't decided yet," Kyle lied, slipping the slate into his pocket.

Mirai gave him a suspicious look but didn't push. "And you, Orin?"

"I'm thinking Ancient Languages and Cryptography... and maybe Runes and Enchantments," Orin said thoughtfully.

"Well," she said with a mock bow, backing away, "best of luck, Housemate and his 'girly' friend. Try not to explode yourself during Spellcraft lessons. I hear it's a nasty cleanup."

Kyle cracked a small smile. "Same to you."

As he walked back through the marble corridors toward the House Noctis dormitory, slate still humming faintly against his palm, Kyle felt it:

The real beginning.

Not the messy entrance exams. Not the chaotic trials. This—this—was where the true journey would start.

Three years.

Three years to forge himself into something stronger. Three years to carve out a place in a world where magic shaped everything.

Kyle's gaze hardened as he strode forward.

If power is used to rule the weak, then why seek it out? Three months ago, I had no reason. But now? I refuse to be weak.

Time to get to work.