After a few more minutes of walking, the forest path opened into a small clearing. At its center stood an arched stone frame, its interior swirling with shimmering energy. Two armed men flanked it, their uniforms bearing Valandias' crest, a silver wyvern coiled around a staff.
So, a portal.
Given Aegron's vast size, it made sense the school would use spatial magic to gather students. Efficient, if a bit impersonal.
I approached the guard on the left. "Greetings."
"Welcome," he replied, nodding. His partner eyed Jack's pistol but said nothing.
"I received an enrollment letter." I produced the parchment from my coat. "This is the entrance to Valandias, correct?"
"It is." The guard skimmed the document. "I'm tasked with verifying arrivals. Your name?"
"Eris Yuvathar."
He flipped through a ledger, then handed me a slip of paper. "Alright, you can proceed through the gateway."
I glanced at the portal. The hum of magic was unmistakable, Troven, a rather uncommon spell, which I happen to be very familiar with. It allows a mage to instantaneously translocate between two points in space.
Stepping forward, light engulfed my vision and dissolved into a panorama of towering spires and vaulted bridges. Valandias loomed ahead, a monolithic castle sprawling across the horizon, its walls threaded with glowing runes. The scale was staggering; this wasn't just a school. It was a fortress of knowledge.
"Impressive," Jack whistled beside me, holstering his pistol. "Heard they carved the foundations from a mountain."
"Mm." I started toward the entrance, my boots crunching on gravel. The air here was thicker, saturated with residual spells.
The grand doors swung open as we neared, revealing a cavernous lobby. Dozens of students milled about, their chatter echoing off marble floors. Overhead, floating signs pulsed with arrows and room numbers:
→ CLASS B-3
→ LIBRARY ANNEX
→ AGRICULTURAL GREENHOUSES
I checked my slip again. A-1.
"Well," Jack said, "I'm off to C-2. Guess this is where we split?"
"Seems so."
"Don't look so grim", he said while still maintaining a serious face, possibly making fun of me. "If fate wills it, we'll see each other again."
We then parted ways.
Locating A-1 took little effort, third corridor on the left, marked by a platinum plaque. Inside, rows of polished oak desks faced a chalkboard scrawled with today's agenda:
INTRODUCTION TO MANA THEORY
PRACTICAL CASTING: SAFETY PROTOCOLS
A handful of students had already claimed seats. I chose one near the back, close enough to observe, far enough to avoid attention.
The room smelled of ink and ozone. A girl with braided hair whispered to her neighbor; a boy in an oversized robe fumbled with a crystal orb. Ordinary, save for the undercurrent of tension.
I leaned back, waiting.
Class would begin soon.