The First-year classes managed to each occupy different corners of the Academy as they prepared, from the campuses of the Academy or Southern Residency, they all found a place for themselves.
From the track fields, gymnasiums, training arenas and even workshops and laboratories, the students put their all into the development of their skills, with their sights firmly placed on victory.
In fact the First-year students' determination had reached a point wherein the majority of the upperclassmen started raising their own complaints about their seemingly unending passion that drove their practice making a disturbance that very few could sleep through. Leading the combat instructors, Colt and Yuria to enforce a temporary curfew around the Southern Residency and its facilities.
Ulrich was seen holding extra classes within the Configuration with his class, whereas Class 1B gained an extra helping of combat classes with their homeroom teacher, Yuria, who was determined to keep her students from falling behind.
"Ugh, you'd think that she would have her hands full working with the Holy Church, answering to the Headmistress and coaching her little goblins." Reiss said as he looked out one of the windows of the Medical Ward, watching Yuria push her exhausted class to run another lap around the campus.
"Shouldn't you be busy with your own class, Reiss? You know how I feel about your surprise visits to my Ward?" Dr. Arturion stepped out of his office towards the elven troublemaker, flipping through the latest report for the delivery that he had been waiting for.
"I'd like to think I bring a certain charm to this cold, sterile place." Winking at the nurse's prying gaze that was caught by the old doctor. Who with the snap of his finger, dispelled Reiss's charm and sent them away.
"Your so-called charm is disruptive to my staff, don't think that the Headmistress's decree for your abstinence towards the staff doesn't apply to those under me." The doctor waived the stack of pages towards the aloof figure.
"So did you bring me something useful, like the Mithridates supply? or are you just going to stand around looking pretty." The old man stepped out with Reiss following but not before teasing the snooping nurses with another wink.
"Who says it can't be both? And she didn't say anything about looking, only touching." Reiss answered.
Leaving the Medical Ward in his staff's care, the two of them made their way to the courtyard, where the sound of clashing steel and worn breaths echoed throughout the holds of the space. They came to sit on a nearby bench as they watched the two students matching one another in skill and strength with the swing of their blades.
"Things never change, the moment word of the Carnival reaches the students, the grounds of the Academy come alive with a symphony of passion and desire." The old man pulled out a box of cigarettes as he let out a sigh of disappointment in how fast he seemed to have picked up the habit.
"You always get worked up when the children and danger are in the same sentence." Reaching over the waiting doctor to light it for him with the snap of his finger.
"For someone that spends all his time patching them up, taking care of them and making sure they come back in one piece, have you ever considered having some of your own...you know old age isn't much of an issue for us, even when we want it to be." Reiss teased.
"I do what I do for anyone in need of help, besides, being a dedicated physician might offer a reasonable size of uld but expecting someone to deal with my long hours and less than ethical decisions wouldn't be fair." The doctor let out a sigh before returning the burning torchwork to his lips.
"Yes yes, still, even though you'll probably live longer than a normal human, you won't be young forever." He teased the doctor.
"You can mock my appearance, but it, like everything I do, serves its purpose. People find it comforting when the one caring for them looks old enough to be their grandparent."
"Come on now Reiss, you didn't pay me a visit just so you could ask me about my personal life. Did the Headmistress approve my request for the new shipment?" He asked, taking the intrigued elf's nod to mean she had.
"The notification should appear in your Notebook soon. So for now, how about we enjoy the nice fresh air."
"You're avoiding your teaching duties aren't you?" Arturion snuffed out the stub in his hand before tossing it into the nearby waste bin.
"Class F or no, it's still your job to teach them to your best ability."
"Ugh. I know. I already gave them something to help so they can't exactly say I didn't do anything to help."
"Besides, they seem to do a lot better when they have the space to work together. As long as I make sure none of them gets maimed or killed, I consider my job done." His wistful gleeful being replaced by an air of frustration as he spoke.
"...At times I wonder who is stuck with who in your class. How about we get something to eat, we can call it a lunch break?" The doctor dusted the ash from his coat as he stood.
"Even when you're the one in charge of your department, you still act as though you need to check-in. Let's go." Reiss joined him as they left the courtyard.
Located north of the educational buildings stood the Administrator's Building adorned with intricate spires and emblazoned steppes bearing the school crest. Inside sat the Teacher's Lounge and the Headmistress office.
As if the entire structure was constructed around the idea of this singular room, one that carries a strange characteristic whereby anyone can enter it with the Headmistress's permission, from any door in the campus. This also allowed her to travel the entire span of the campus with ease.
With one of these doors opening up in a derelict storeroom, catching the eye of a passing stranger and prompting them to enter.
Appearing different from the bright flash of light that accompanies every jump using a Teleportation Seal, passing the door was akin to stepping into a corridor, draped in endless curtains of darkness that were sown with a stellar shimmer.
A stranger appeared unbothered as they paced forward until the sensation of cold steel met their outstretched hand.
Pulling on the device, their sight was consumed by the wellspring of light flooding into the passage before the door vanished in its entirety, leaving them within the office.
"You have arrived, wonderful. We have so much to talk about. Please sit." The enchanting tones of an unseen figure echoed within the room, however, the stranger felt no compulsion to settle the nearby seat.
"Headmistress, I don't mind being yanked into your office when you need something, however, I prefer if we could speak face to face."
"Oh my dear, I only do so to protect your mind from invading eyes. In here, what is said and who can hear it is under my authority, but out there...the work you do is already far too dangerous, I do not wish to worsen it."
The stranger crossed their arms and held their tongue until a hazy specter began forming in front of him, evanescent in shape and form, as if made of smoke wrapped in golden light, the familiar voice would soon come from it.
"You don't have to worry about me. What's going on?"
Before the specter answered, the faint golden stardust flickered about with growing intensity, like fireworks bursting forth from the center of the room, the glow enveloped everything and forced the stranger to shield their eyes,
"Open your eyes, you need to see." Forcing his eyelids open under the strain of the blinding light, the sight of something strange came into view. Auburn and amber coloured plains stretching towards the horizon met the gray-stone towering mountains that were showered with snow, the sight of a sparkling city, one made of glass glimmered in the distance.
"L-Lynheare, did we just hop to another continent?"
"Not quite, this is just a live projection. Where the sun shines at this moment, we can see through these images, as if we were actually there, but we cannot get distracted."
"With the Holy Church of the Seven Branches concluding their investigation in Whitewater Port, it's been revealed that the Nycerii and Forsaken forces that orchestrated the event where indeed from Lynheare...or to be more specific, the singular mage that lead the operation, Alistair Khartsphere was Lynhearian." The specter shifted the images, moving them from the mountains towards the southern edge of the continent.
"Is there something important happening in Lynheare, aside from those working in the Dead Country?" The stranger identified the new location with ease.
"Yes. The Horologians of the Vale of Glainne were handed the remains of the Northern Calamity and by analyzing the notes and magical seals used, they were able to determine the source of the corrupt mage's knowledge."
"..."
"The Ageless! Powerful mages and scholars who established Mort Acysis. During the Unification of Lynheare under the banner of Aufruinen Empire and its ruler, Lord Nyrch Driss had sought the help of the scholars in his conquest. For their aid, they were granted the lands of Dead Country so they could continue their work undisturbed, even under his rule."
"Though a large number felt their contributions in the conquering of the barbaric continent deserved more of a reward, believing that only they had the power and wisdom to form the continent and soon the rest of the First World into a capable civilization."
"They were the Ageless?" The stranger asked.
"They would be, for while they had the knowledge and power to raze cities and tear down mountains, they knew that those that would remain loyal to the Aufruinen Empire had the strength of an entire continent behind them."
"So they gave up, just like that?"
"No one can say for sure, all that was known is that they desired the might to subjugate the First World, and left in search of it. Rumors and whispers had only existed of them after the initial spark of rebellion was quelled."
"To distance themselves from the ideas of rebellion against the Empire, the remaining Horologians bore a new name for their home. That's why it's called Mort Acysis."
"...This would have been a pretty interesting history, but I'm guessing there was a reason it stayed buried. What does an ancient order of mages have to do with the attack on the port?" The stranger ran his fingers across his chin as he asked.
"Considering Alistair utilized Necromancy of the level only heard of by the Horologians, it's not too hard to imagine that his predecessors were somehow related to those individuals...with one figure in particular."
"It's clear from the reports we gathered that while as impressive as the magic he was preparing to use is, it was still understood by a student."
"Shynerai Astrapordt was there for his Quest and encountered the mage...and to our surprise managed to bring him down with the aid of Meira Euryale and a mechanic by the name of Konnor."
"Details aside, if it was possible for a student to decipher the spell, then Alistair might not have had a proper grasp of the magic, needing to supplement the more complex parts of it with simpler structures."
"Them huh? So Alistair used a kind of magic only seen by the Horologians in an attempt to resurrect the Northern Calamity, but the spell was far too complex so he made up for it by filling in the blanks using much simpler spells?" The figure's eyes stared intently at the images.
"That's the hypothesis we are working with given the evidence."
"This still says nothing to confirm that these 'Ageless' are worth our time. The Horologians might find the magic used to be familiar, but that doesn't mean their ancestors were somehow involved. We can't afford to waste time chasing myths." The stranger voiced his frustration to the unmoving specter.
"Except they do know it's the result of their predecessors' work. Such magics have been deemed punishable and forbidden because they knew what they were capable of. Sometimes, a secret well kept becomes a myth."
"...You mentioned one figure in particular, was there someone else involved."
"What I say next isn't entirely confirmed, so you're going to have to remain calm. Can you do that?" The specter's voice fell into a somber tone.
"I..." The stranger was about to speak, but quickly relented with a nod at her words.
"Among the Forsaken mage's notes, we found a mark. The mark was probably used by the originator of the magic. Speaking to the Horologians, we were able to discover its meaning."
"Hmph–The initials: A.T is believed to belong to August Trismegistus..."
"Are you alr–"
"WHERE! WHERE ARE THEY NOW? The stranger's voice boomed with enough force to rattle the building beneath, dimming the shine of the stardust and causing the images to flicker."
"I can't have you tearing this building apart. Please calm down." The specter's own glow began to rise in accordance with the stranger's rumble, forcing them to stagger back as the intensity of the light began to burn.
"You must remain calm." Ending the luminous barrage in a brilliant flash, before knocking the stranger to the ground and pinning them against it. Now returning to the familiar office, the specter's voice continued to loom over him.
"When we find out more about the Ageless, you will be informed though for now, you need to focus. August is said to be among thirteen to bear the title of Ageless."
"If Alistair had gotten his hands on his knowledge, who knows how many other mages did too. Right now we are fortunate since nothing else of the sort has come up, so what we can do is focus on learning more about the Ageless with the information we have already confirmed. That could bring us closer to Alistair's true motives."
"Towards the Western Outskirts of Mort Acysis, that was the last known location of the source of magic linked to the spell that was to be used. As faint as was, it still managed to lead us somewhere."
"If this truly is them, we may discover what their plans are, and even where the rest of them lie. Honestly, the world is a dangerous place, the return of the Ageless would be a disaster I don't think we could manage."
Realizing that the stranger had stopped struggling, the specter released her hold over them,
"If you think August is there, then send me and if I find him, I'll make sure to–"
"Report back. That's an order. You may be stronger than most Guardians twice your age, but you're still just a child and the idea of sending you to face a threat this world has not seen in centuries...that is not something I can do wholeheartedly. If you can respect that, then I'll permit you to investigate under my authority–"
"I'll do it. If it gets me closer to him...I'll do anything." The stranger shook with a surprising sense of malice.
"Then can you do me a personal favor?" The specter spoke.
"Headmistress?"
"Tell them this time. The last thing you want them to remember of you is your corpse. The Carnival starts a week from now so they'll likely be busy handling the preparations."
The stranger had no words to provide the specter that would carry any truth, so he walked towards the back of the office and a different door appeared.
"I'll head out first thing in the morning." Speaking his last words before taking hold of the handle and stepping through the dark void.
Watching as the stranger left her office, the specter vanished leaving only the Headmistress, alone with a thought that had pestered her since she had learned of everything:
'They left the Vale of Glainne seeking the power to remake the world, would they truly have turned to the Nycerii? If so, then things are only going to get worse...'