The Manaector, still humming faintly, slipped from Anton's grasp as he shoved it into his already overflowing backpack. His fingers twitched, itching to dismantle it, to unravel its secrets, but the clock on the wall, its hands slicing through the remaining minutes, mocked his scholarly desires. A wave of anguish, sharp as a physical blow, washed over him. He was going to be late. Late!
He sprinted in the hallways, darting to leave the building, towards the outside of the campus, where the Beast Taming class would be. It was a wonder to behold. A Gigantic Tree roared from the edge of the floating island with beautiful golden leaves, the glistening reflections bouncing inside the windows in the hallway.
Anton couldn't help but remember his History of Magic books, his brain racking up information, and of course...
(Ding!) Named the 'Earth's Staff', this was the only of its kind in Gaia - A tree that had so much mana flowing off it that just standing next to it gave you magical properties. The Earth's Staff name came from the fact that it was often used as a Mana Focus to cast spells that had continental scale.
The best example was when the biggest drought washed over the land of Gaia, ruining the mainland and causing the biggest war that the world had seen - a war in which his father was enlisted. And then the greatest mages from all nations joined together in an act of peace and cast a world spell that brought back rain to all corners of Gaia and-
He shook his head; it was no time to think! He was going to be late. He was already late. Anton was never late. He knew that proper wizards would arrive precisely when they meant to, but alas - he was late. It was part of Anton's Most Hated Things In The World Vol 1, Chapter 3: People who were late to important things. And this wasn't just any class; it was Beast Taming 101, a subject deeply intertwined with his mother's memory. He pictured her astride an Aeron, a majestic eagle imbued with lightning, and a pang of longing shot through him. What kind of impression would he make on the professor, arriving late and flustered?
His stomach tied itself in hundreds of knots, and the thought of being late was now too much for Anton to handle;
He halted abruptly in the corridor, forcing himself to take a deep breath. Panicking wouldn't help. He closed his eyes, focusing on the subtle currents of Mana that permeated the air. He gripped his staff, visualizing the flow of Air Mana, picturing it as a river coursing through the corridor.
"Beneath the moon and sun's bright light,
Feet as swift as the falcon's flight,
Through the whispering winds, take heed,
Grant me speed as my greatest need.
_Tachýs_, let my pace be gifted!"
A magic circle appeared around him, the sounds distorting and eventually vanishing. The circle grew bright with a yellow tint and spun and fluttered with his movements.
He opened his eyes again and dashed forward faster than he ever could by himself, as if air itself was pushing him forward, carrying his weight and momentum.
So fast he crashed through a window and flew outside the building.
He looked down at the ground, a dizzying twenty stories below. The distance was so vast that the ground itself was barely visible. A realization dawned on him. His calculations had been off, a consequence of his still-developing ability to sense Mana in this unfamiliar environment.
The Swift spell was still active, but in this case, it wasn't of much use - in fact, quite the opposite. The air around him pushed him faster forward and towards the ground. 'Think, I must think fast; how do I soften my fall? Another wind spell? Should I blast the ground as I fall? Oh Merlin, what have I done?'
While his thoughts raced, another problem appeared in front of him. A big problem, actually. Another building. That's a big problem, right? He was going to crash straight into the building and probably become a puddle of blood, books, and left-over air Mana.
He had no time left. Anton dissipated Swift and pointed his staff at the building's wall, beginning to cast one of his newest spells. It had to be fast, and it had to be strong enough to break magic-reinforced structures. If he broke the walls, he could crash through the rubble and break a bone or two instead of dying.
He desperately pointed his staff towards the building. "**Flamare**!" Magic circles spun in the air, and a huge swath of flames bellowed, slamming in the building's wall in a concentrated beam. The flames roared against the white marble of the Alchemical Studies classroom, cracking and charring it to a charcoal black.
"**Ruin**-" Anton was pulled back forcefully, a talon suddenly picking him up and dragging him back. He choked against his own cloak, interrupting his spell.
The spell was interrupted, but it still had been cast. The flames that had left his staff coiled in a sphere in the air, barely missing the building, and exploded into a massive ball of flames.
Much, much bigger than when he was practicing it.
The firepower was enough to cover a patch of the clear sky for a minute, and even though the structure was reinforced, students inside the Alchemical Studies classroom still felt a sudden temperature rise. Almost all the students on campus could clearly see or hear the massive fireball exploding.
The firepower was enough for the flames to nearly reach Anton, even though he was flying away from the blast. A bit of his hair got burnt, to say the least.
He looked back at the talon currently holding his cloak. And it was not just a mere talon.
It was the talon of an Ice Wyvern, one made out of Ice crystals. Those were said to be sharp enough to cut through diamonds, but somehow, his cloak seemed to bend around the claws. He tried to gasp but then remembered the strong pull was choking him. He waved his hands to dissipate the Swift spell.
"Hold on!" A girl's voice cut through the air. It was the rider of the Wyvern. Anton couldn't force his neck up enough to see her, but hearing a young voice made him feel both concerned and safe. "I'll land you safely, just uh- just try to breathe and hold on! Glace, Dive!"
The Wyvern suddenly retracted his wings and began to dive under the roaring fire. The force of the experience was so strong that Anton was pretty sure his neck would break. The air around the Ice Wyvern gave way, and the water and humidity turned into tiny snowflakes and ice crystals, pelting Anton. Several minor cuts formed in his skin as he held on for dear life.
The ground came closer, and closer, and closer, and just as Anton felt he was about to pass out, he heard the girl's voice again. "Glace, Hold!" The Wyvern spread open its wings, jerking him back. He almost broke his skinny neck, but once again, it seemed like Merlin decided he would live one more day.
The Wyvern opened its claws, letting Anton safely drop onto the floor. He gasped at the ground, desperate for air. The girl landed her Wyvern, and ran up to Anton.
"Are you okay? What happened?" She asked him while helping him get to his knees. "Oh, by Merlin's beard, you were flying through the air like a bullet!"
Anton tried to answer but instead coughed and wheezed.
"Oh God, mon chéri, just a second," She said as she ran towards her Wyvern. It had large pouches and bags in its saddle. She dug through the pouches, throwing many different scrolls, books, and trinkets into the ground. Finally, she got a small Wand. The wand was made out of a blue steel, and had several engravings on it, all of which glew a faint blue.
She ran over to him and pointed the wand at his throat. "Aeras" she lightly whispered. And suddenly, Anton felt like he could breathe again. He coughed once more just to check, and took a deep breath.
He looked at her. Somehow, this entire time, he hadn't caught the beauty of the girl. And oh, what a beautiful girl she was. Actually, calling her a girl was quite wrong - she was an Elf.
Why would it be wrong? Can't Elves be girls or young? Well, yes, but since Elves tend to live centuries and maintain the same appearance for dozens of decades at a time, and according to probability theory, the likelihood of her being actually young was slim.
But nevertheless, she looked young. And beautiful. Her braided hair, the color of a winter sky just after dawn, framed a face of startling beauty with soft features. Eyes like glacial pools, skin as pale and flawless as fresh snow, and a delicate, almost otherworldly, aura. She wore a long, flowing cloak, black as a raven's wing, embroidered with intricate golden runes that seemed to shimmer with a light of their own.
And she was reading 'Advanced Mana Biology in Beasts and Monsters, Vol 4.', one of Anton's favorite books. At least, he thinks she was reading it because the book landed near him as she threw it out of the bags.
"There, how are you feeling?" she asked him, helping him stand. "Sorry for the, uh, ride. Glace is still learning to be gentle."
"Confused and with neck pain, but alive, thanks to you." He thanked her as he patted his clothes and adjusted his cloak to cover him again.
"Don't worry!" The Elf girl said with a kind smile. "The Astra family has a duty to help those we can."
Anton's eyes widened.
"Astra? Sorry, I don't think I caught your name..." Anton asked, poking for information.
She chuckled. "It's considered rude to ask a lady to introduce herself before you've told her your own name. Specially in the Elf lands, mister...?"
"Ah, sorry! My name is Anton Kurona Voya. Thank you very much for saving me. And the Aquila building." He bowed nervously. He never was one for etiquette and manners. Although he remembered best practices precisely, he found himself never having quite enough brainpower to apply them.
Her eyes widened a bit. She nodded to herself, acknowledging an inner thought. "Lunee Astra Pagos, heir to the Astra bloodline. And don't worry. I'm sure the building's mana-reinforced walls would have held, although I don't think you were going to leave unscathed." She extended a hand, her fingers long and elegant, adorned with rings that shimmered with a faint, ethereal light.
Anton shook her hand, feeling a jolt of strange energy pass between them. It wasn't unpleasant nor pleasant - it was something else, a deja-vu that enveloped his entire body. He had felt something like this before, he was sure; But couldn't pinpoint quite where. The young man shook his head, his stomach knots returning as he remembered how the whole ordeal started.
"Oh! The Beast Taming Class! We must be very late!" Anton suddenly spouted.
Lunee frowned, her blue eyes darkening in tone, it seemed she also had momentarily forgot that she was late. "Beast Taming? Oh no, oh no, oh no, I completely forgot!" Lunee's eyes widened in panic, her elegant demeanor cracking for a moment. "My father is going to have my head! I'm supposed to be setting an example as an Astra!"
She dashed and collected everything she threw on the ground, and quickly started putting everything in the Wyvern's bags. With a swift movement, she gracefully jumped and mounted the beast.
The Ice Wyvern snarled, and slapped at the ground. The impact enough to almost knock Anton off his feet. The draconic beast was magnificent to behold. Long, sharp talons and fangs. Scales made out of beautiful ice crystals that started neat, and grew wild as the steam around it condensed into a natural armour. Long fangs, and a wingspan that seemed unecessarily large. And eyes deeper and colder than any frozen tundra in Gaia.
Once again, she extended her hands towards Anton. "Hop on. We can make it if we hurry."
Something clicked inside Anton. That Deja-Vu feeling was so intense it threatened to make him vomit.
The beautiful girl on top of the Ice Wyvern, the sun shining and reflecting against the ice particles around it. The cold breath that the beast expelled. The feeling of pain in his body, and a weird pull on his chest. The sight of her hair flowing in an unnatural manner, almost floating in the air. The gesture. The words.
It all lined up into a scene that Anton felt that he not had only lived it once in the past.
*But also one that he would live again.*
He dashed forward and took her hand, mounting the Wyvern with her assistance.
"Hold on tight." She said, pulling on the saddle's ropes. "Glace hasn't learned how to do soft takeoffs yet."
Anton gulped and tentatively wrapped his arms around Lunee's waist, feeling the intricate runes on her cloak beneath his fingers. They seemed to hum faintly with energy. He tried not to think about how close he was to the beautiful Elf, focusing instead on the powerful creature beneath them.
"Glace, Fly!" She ordered. The Wyvern, in one clunky but powerful motion, jumped and flapped it's wings, hurling itself through the air.
The ground shrunk beneath them, the campus buildings transforming into miniature models as they ascended. The wind, a roaring icy torrent, tore at Anton's clothes and whipped his hair across his face. He clung to Lunee, his knuckles white against the thick fabric of her cloak, feeling the raw power of the Wyvern in every beat of its massive wings. The air thrummed with the creature's glacial energy, a bone-deep cold that seeped into his very marrow. It was a terrifying, exhilarating symphony of motion and sound, a wild dance between ice and wind.
The Wyvern stabilized itself in the air, and then took off with a pull of the rope by Lunee. They flew above the entire campus, and Anton wish he could appreciate the view of the famous Astra Magic University from above. Rather, he was hugging Lunee as tight as he could, holding on to dear life as every movement from the beast threatened to launch him into another dreadful situation.
Lunee, for her part, seemed completely at ease, her body swaying in rhythm with the Wyvern's movements. She expertly guided the creature through the air, her voice calm and steady as she gave it commands. Anton couldn't help but be impressed by her skill, composure, posture, and everything else about her.
He could feel the cold seeping into his bones, but he didn't dare complain, not wanting to distract Lunee from her task.
Lunee began to slow the Wyvern down, guiding it towards a large, open field just outside the campus. The field was surrounded by a dense forest, and in the center stood a massive, ancient-looking tree, its branches reaching up towards the sky like gnarled fingers.
"Here we are," Lunee announced, her voice slightly breathless. "The Taming Grounds."
Suddenly, she yanked on the ropes. And they descended like a bullet. The Wyvern landed powerfully in the field, its powerful wings stirring up a cloud of dust and debris. Anton carefully dismounted, his legs shaking slightly from the adrenaline and the cold. He looked around in awe, taking in the sheer size and majesty of the Taming Grounds.
"It's... incredible," he breathed, his eyes wide with wonder.
Lunee smiled, a hint of pride in her eyes. "It is, isn't it? This is where students of Astra University come to learn the art of Beast Taming. It's a sacred place, filled with ancient magic and powerful creatures."
"You are late." A powerful voice boomed from behind them. The voice was deep and resonant, carrying the weight of authority and the subtle rustle of dry leaves.
Standing before them, framed by the golden light filtering through the colossal branches of the Earth's Staff, was Professor Astrid Yggsilva. Her lower body, the powerful and elegant form of a large deer, was planted firmly on the grassy ground, the deep brown fur catching the sunlight. Above the natural divide of her form, patches of the same fur dotted her back, leading up to a more human-like torso draped in practical, earth-toned robes.
But it was her head that commanded immediate attention. A magnificent pair of antlers, larger than any stag's, branched outwards like the gnarled limbs of an ancient tree, the glowing runes etched into their surface pulsing with a faint, emerald light. Her animated wooden hands, dark and intricately carved, rested patiently at her sides, the small runes on their knuckles flickering softly. Her fawn ears twitched almost imperceptibly as she regarded them with sharp, intelligent eyes. Although her appearance was quite exoyic, her face was that of an old woman.
"Miss Astra," Professor Yggsilva continued, her tone laced with a hint of dry formality, "one would expect the heir of such a respected lineage to understand the importance of punctuality. Setting a proper example is, after all, part of your inherited responsibilities." Her wooden hand twitched slightly, a gesture that somehow conveyed more disapproval than a shouted reprimand. "After all, how does that phrase go again? A wizard is never early, nor late; He arrives-"
"Precisely when he means to." Anton spouted, not able to control himself.
Her gaze then shifted to Anton, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "Mr. Voya. Your… unconventional arrival has certainly made an impression. Though perhaps not the one I typically encourage on the first day of class." There was a pause, a silent assessment that made the knots in Anton's stomach tighten further.
Both Anton and Lunee gulped, and bowed profusely in apology, without saying a word. The professor smiled.
"Consider this your first, and decidedly only, warning regarding tardiness. The Taming Grounds are not a stage for personal dramas, however explosive they may be." She straightened, her antlers seeming to rise even higher, casting long shadows across the field. "Now," she announced, her voice regaining its usual authoritative tone, "since you have both managed to… arrive, despite your best efforts to the contrary, shall we proceed with the lesson? Follow me."
She began to walk towards a hut close to the golden tree. Anton and Lunee exchanged a quick glance, and followed her into it.
The hut was larger inside than it seemed from the outside - courtesy of Arthas Gravitan and his spatial magic research. While the exterior was no bigger than a small shed, the interior expanded into a circular chamber that could easily hold a hundred students. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls, their leather covers worn with age. In the center of the room, a large, circular pit descended into darkness, its edges lined with glowing runes that pulsed with a soft, ethereal light. A faint scent of earth and wildflowers permeated the air, mingling with the sharp tang of... beast fur.
Around the pit, several other students were already seated on cushions, their eyes fixed on Professor Yggsilva. A tall, slender girl with skin like polished obsidian and pointed ears was meticulously sharpening a set of wickedly curved knives. Beside her, a burly boy with a shock of fiery red hair nervously adjusted the straps of a heavy-looking gauntlet. In the corner, a cloaked figure with shimmering, iridescent scales whispered to a small, winged creature perched on their shoulder. Murmurs rippled through the group as they noticed the latecomers, eyes lingering on the scorch marks on Anton's hair and the faint ice crystals clinging to Lunee's cloak.
"Now that we are all finally here," Professor Yggsilva said, her voice cutting through the murmurs, "let us begin."
She gestured to the center of the hut, where a large, ornately carved wooden cage sat. The creature inside was obscured by a thick, dark cloth.
"Beast Taming is not merely about bending creatures to your will. It is about understanding, empathy, and respect. It is about forging a connection, a bond that transcends words." She paused, her gaze sweeping over the students. "It is also dangerous. One moment of carelessness, one lapse in judgment, can have dire consequences."
Anton, despite the reprimand and the lingering ache in his neck, felt a thrill course through him. This was it. The first step towards understanding the bond his mother shared with her Aeron. He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the covered cage, trying to discern any hint of the creature within.
Beside him, Lunee was a picture of focused attention. Gone was the panicked, flustered girl from moments before. In her place sat the heir of the Astra family, her back straight, her expression serious. The faint ice crystals clinging to her cloak had melted away, leaving only a faint shimmer in the air around her. She was determined to prove that her tardiness was an anomaly, not a reflection of her character or her lineage.
All students were quiet, hanging on the thread spun from every word from Astrid Yggsilva.
Professor Yggsilva's gaze lingered on each student, her sharp eyes missing nothing. "Today," she continued, her voice taking on a more solemn tone, "we will begin with a creature of particular significance to these lands. A creature that embodies both the beauty and the danger of the untamed wild." She paused for dramatic effect. "A creature that, if approached with respect and understanding, can become a powerful ally. But if treated with arrogance or fear, can unleash a fury that few can withstand."
With a flourish, Professor Yggsilva gestured towards the cage. The heavy cloth that draped it shimmered, then dissolved into a cascade of glittering motes, revealing the creature within.
A collective gasp filled the room.
Inside the cage, curled around itself in a posture of tense alertness, was a young Moon Fang. A wolf-like magical beast. Its fur, the color of freshly fallen snow, shimmered with an ethereal, almost translucent quality. Its large, intelligent eyes, the shade of the deepest twilight, were fixed on the students, filled with a mixture of fear and defiance. Its most striking feature, however, was the pair of long, curved fangs that protruded from its upper jaw, each one tipped with a soft, pulsating glow. They looked like two small crescent moons hanging from its jaw.
Anton stared blankly at the beast, scouring his brain for information, until... (Ding!) The Moon Fang was a creature of legend, rarely seen outside the deepest forests of Gaia. It was said to possess a powerful connection to the lunar energies, drawing strength and agility from the moon's phases. They were notoriously difficult to tame, known for their fierce independence and their ability to manipulate shadows to their will.
"This," Professor Yggsilva declared, her voice ringing with authority, "is your first lesson. Observe. Learn. And above all, understand. The Moon Fang is not a pet. It is not a tool. It is a creature of immense power and dignity. And it deserves to be treated as such." She stepped back, her wooden hands clasped behind her back, her antlers casting long, dancing shadows across the room. "Now, who among you will be the first to step forward and begin the dance of understanding?"
The room fell silent. The students exchanged uneasy glances, the initial excitement replaced by a healthy dose of trepidation. Even Lunee, for all her apparent confidence, seemed hesitant to meet the Moon Fang's gaze.
Anton's heart pounded in his chest. He knew he should probably wait, observe the others, learn from their mistakes. But the creature's eyes, so full of wild, untamed energy, seemed to call to him. He remembered his mother's stories, the way she spoke of her Aeron with such reverence and affection. He wanted, more than anything, to understand that connection, to forge a bond of his own.
Before he could second-guess himself, Anton stood up, his legs trembling slightly. "P-P-Professor," he said, his voice a little louder than he intended, "I-I'll do it."