The room was large, circular, with dark wood paneling and high windows through which dull light fell. The windows were half covered by heavy blue curtains, on which the Academy's coat of arms was embroidered in silver, a stylized crown above a tower, flanked by two wings.
But it wasn't the architecture that interested Corin at that moment.
It was the presence.
Everyone present wore it like a cloak of authority, self-confidence and... Anticipation. The atmosphere was charged, like just before a storm, but instead of lightning and rain, there was political weight in the air. Power, captured in glances, in posture, in silent observation.
He recognized some faces immediately:
Ines, cool, calculating, her gaze like glass, penetrating and yet unapproachable.
Blues, leaning back casually, one leg crossed over the other, as if the entire committee had been waiting for him.
Serena, now in her function as Nomen's right hand, matter-of-fact and confident, quietly noted things down in a leather-bound book.
And, of course, Nomen of Valtror.
He stood at the head of the long table that formed the room like a taut arch. His voice was calm, firm and carried with that natural authority that seemed to need no effort.
"As many of you already know, we have a new addition to the Disciplinary Committee. Corin Denoir. In his first week he has shown more initiative, vision and commitment than many in their first month."
Some nodded, others continued to look neutral, some openly measured Corin with scrutinizing glances. It wasn't hostility, it was... Appraisal.
"He is not a noble," Nomen continued, "and yet he has become part of the structure. Let's not forget what the Disciplinary Committee actually is: an institution that not only keeps order, but is there to protect those who don't have the same privileges as many of us."
A quick sideways glance at Corin.
"That concludes the formalities. If you have any questions, ask them now, otherwise we'll get back to business as usual."
No questions. A brief moment of silence. Then eyes turned back to the files, quiet conversations began and the actual meeting took its course.
Corin felt Cearen stand next to him and whisper softly:
"You've just passed the first test. They've seen you. Now they're watching you."
Corin nodded slowly. He knew it. From here on, every movement, every word, every hesitation - would be weighed, interpreted and categorized. And the game had only just begun.
The transition from the official council meeting to the everyday academy routine was a strange break; like flipping a switch between two worlds. After the members of the Council had shaken his hand or given a curt nod, politely, distantly, with benevolent skepticism, Corin was dismissed. Not from responsibility, just from the room. His admission would be made public later that day. Soon everyone on campus would know that he was now one of them.
He couldn't quite shake the sinking feeling in his stomach.
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Blessings Studies.
A subject that promised more than dry theory, at least he hoped so.
The lecture hall was brighter than the rooms he had visited in the first week. Large, slightly semi-circular, with tiered seats made of dark wood that allowed a clear view of the central platform. Magical panels hovered on the walls, ready to fill with runes, diagrams or charts. Some students were already seated, whispering, exchanging notes or, as usual, staring curiously at Corin, who now quietly took a seat in the middle rows, his black and gold glasses perched on his nose. Then she entered the room.
Rheaa Maron.
Her presence was gentle, but not to be overlooked. Her clothes were simple, but with precise lines and elegantly placed symbols on the collar, signs of ancient paths, if Corin was not mistaken. She was young, barely older than the older students, with dark purple hair that fell in a loose cord over her shoulder. Her voice, however, calm, almost like a melody, immediately silenced everyone.
"Welcome. I'm Rheaa Maron, and today we're talking about Blessings."
No greetings, no pleasantries. Just focus. She let her gaze wander, nodding to a student in the front row who was already getting ready to write. Then she continued:
"Many of you have already climbed the first rank, some have already climbed the second, and only a few of the higher years have reached the third. But that alone does not make you strong. Path power is nothing without form. Blessings are the form."
She raised a hand. A slight shimmer appeared around her fingers before a fleeting hint of petals danced in the air, fleeting, beautiful, and quickly disappeared again.
"A distinction is made between basic and personal Blessings. Basic Blessings form the foundation, they are the echo of your path. As soon as you reach rank 1, the first resonance begins. A simple system."
She made a panel appear on which the structure lit up:
Path rank 1:
→ Path binding
→ First basic blessings
Path rank 2:
→ Beginning of ones own path manifestation
→ Personal Blessings become possible
"Personal Blessings, however..." she paused, her eyes sparkling for a moment "...cannot be controlled. They arise when your path recognizes you. They are mirrors of your being. Not everyone gets a powerful personal Blessing. And sometimes... they change you."
A murmured murmur went through the ranks.
Corin stared at the projection. So much of what he himself had been through, of what had happened to him, suddenly found words, concepts, systems here. It was irritating how sober everything sounded.
"And for both," Rheaa continued, "a constant connection to your path is necessary. Without it, no resonance, no manifestation. You all already carry your paths within you, but without a domain or a veil, you are just wanderers without a destination. Of course, this changes the higher your rank is."
She let the image fade.
"Today we'll start with the common basic blessings and what they allow you to do. We'll talk about amplification, projection, sense shifting, shapeshifting, stability, transition, flow, radiation, and... control."
He leaned back. Corin smiled, but only briefly.
Because deep down, he knew that the subject of Blessings was anything but theoretical for him.