The carriage jolted to a halt, the abruptness of the motion stirring Layzal from his thoughts. The journey had been long and uneventful, the silence inside the carriage broken only by the occasional creak of the wheels and the soft rustle of the wind outside. As the horses snorted and stamped their hooves, eager to be free of their burden, Layzal glanced out the window, taking in the sight of their destination.
They had arrived at Alveus.
The Academy loomed before them, its stone walls stark and imposing against the pale morning sky. The structure was built like a fortress, all harsh lines and cold angles, with towers that rose into the air like jagged teeth. A low mist clung to the ground, swirling around the base of the walls as if trying to escape the suffocating presence of the academy. There was no grandeur here, no attempt to impress or inspire. Alveus was a place of purpose, stripped of any pretence. It's only promise was that of hardship.
The door to the carriage creaked open, and the knight who had led them here stepped out first, his boots crunching on the gravel path. Without a word, he gestured for the others to follow. Layzal stood, his movements as controlled as ever, and exited the carriage, his boots meeting the ground with a soft thud. The others followed suit, their expressions a mix of apprehension and quiet resignation.
They stood in a small courtyard, surrounded by the high walls of the academy. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and cold stone, and the only sound was the distant clang of metal on metal—faint echoes of the training that had already begun within Alveus's walls. Layzal scanned the area, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. There were no banners here, no signs of glory or honour. Just bare stone and the knowledge that this place existed for one purpose only: to forge soldiers.
The knight who had accompanied them on the journey stepped forward, his face as impassive as ever. "Welcome to Alveus," he said, his voice cutting through the stillness. "This is where you will awaken your mana and begin your training. The next two weeks will determine whether you survive this war or become another forgotten name."
He paused, letting his words sink in, before gesturing toward a heavy wooden door set into the far wall. "Inside, you will be assigned quarters and given further instructions. Do not expect comfort or kindness here. You are no longer children of the villages you came from. You are recruits, and your lives belong to the academy now."
Without waiting for a response, the knight turned and led the way toward the door. Layzal followed, his face a mask of calm indifference. He could feel the weight of the other recruits' gazes on him, some filled with fear, others with a determination to prove themselves. But Layzal knew that the academy didn't care about such things. Alveus was a crucible, designed to burn away weakness and leave only the strongest standing.
As they stepped through the door, the cold air of the courtyard was replaced by the even colder embrace of the academy's interior. The walls here were the same rough stone, dimly lit by flickering torches that cast long shadows across the floor. The air smelled of sweat and iron, a scent that Layzal knew would soon become all too familiar.
They were led down a narrow corridor, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the confined space. Layzal's mind was clear, focused. He had no illusions about what lay ahead. The academy would test them, push them to their limits and beyond. But no matter what trials awaited, he would face them with the same unflinching resolve that had carried him this far.
The corridor ended at another door, this one heavier, reinforced with iron bands. The knight pushed it open, revealing a large room filled with rows of simple cots, each with a rough woollen blanket folded at the foot. "These are your quarters," he said, his tone as emotionless as ever. "Choose a bed. Your training begins at dawn."
With that, the knight turned and left, leaving the recruits to find their places in the room. Layzal chose a cot near the back, away from the door, where he could observe the others without being easily noticed. He sat down, his back straight, his eyes calm and steady as he watched the others settle in.
The academy had begun its work, and so had he.
Layzal sat on the edge of his cot, his gaze steady as he observed the others. A few recruits, like him, remained silent, their faces set in grim determination or blank indifference. Others, however, were less composed. A pair of recruits bickered over something trivial—a bed too close to the door, perhaps—while a small group tried to lighten the oppressive atmosphere with forced laughter and half-hearted jokes. It was a pitiful attempt to mask their fear, but Layzal could see right through it.
He shook his head, the faintest hint of disdain crossing his otherwise calm features. To survive this war, one needed more than just bravado or an eagerness to please. Strength alone wasn't enough; it had to be tempered with intelligence and sharpened by cunning. These recruits, with their nervous chatter and desperate attempts at camaraderie, lacked all three. They were children, untested and unprepared for the reality that awaited them. The academy would eat them alive.
Layzal sighed quietly, pushing himself back onto the cot. There was no use in wasting energy observing them any longer. Their weakness was apparent, and it would only distract him from the real task at hand. He needed to conserve his strength, to prepare for what was coming. The mana awakening was no simple ritual. It was a process that demanded every ounce of focus and resilience. It would draw from the deepest parts of him, pulling at the very essence of his being. If he wasn't ready, if he allowed himself to be distracted by the pathetic displays around him, he could easily fail—and failure here meant death.
Closing his eyes, Layzal let the noise of the room fade into the background. He focused on his breathing, slowing it, controlling it, until each breath was a steady, deliberate act. The tension in his muscles eased, his mind clearing as he sank into a state of calm readiness. The cots creaked as the others moved about, their footsteps echoing off the cold stone floor, but Layzal was already slipping away from it all, shutting out the world around him.
In the darkness behind his closed eyes, he visualised the mana awakening, the moment when the dormant power within him would be forced to the surface. He had heard the stories—of the pain, the fire that coursed through one's veins as the mana took hold, reshaping and remaking from within. But he had also heard of the clarity that followed, the heightened senses, the sharpened mind. It was a trial by fire, but one that would forge him into something more, something capable of surviving the academy and the war beyond.
Layzal's thoughts drifted, settling into a rhythm that matched his breathing. He let go of the day's events, of the recruits around him, of everything that wasn't essential. This was his time to recharge, to prepare himself for the next test. The academy could throw whatever it wanted at him. He would be ready.
As the sounds of the room continued to fade, Layzal felt the first tendrils of sleep pulling at him. But this was no ordinary sleep. It was the calm before the storm, the silence before the awakening. And when the time came, he would rise, stronger, smarter, and more cunning than any of the others.
The academy would try to break him, but Layzal Regula had no intention of being broken.
Waking up just before dawn, Layzal sat up observing the people around him, realising they were all still sleeping. He looked to the table next to his bed, there was a uniform folded neatly. He picked it up and started getting dressed. The uniform was simple and consisted of simple linen grey trousers and a cream white wool shirt, with some plain black boots. However, it also came with a short black cape that hugged the shoulders.
As he finished dressing, the door to the quarters opened revealing one of the knights. He noticed Layzal and nodded before smirking."Everyone get up and get ready in 5 minutes to awaken!" people shot up in shock before he continued "I don't appreciate tardiness" after talking he stood there leaning against the wall indifferently.
Layzal made his way over calmly and stood punctually in front of him as others got ready around him, the place filled with panic and worry. The other people scrambled and finally lined up, as the knight began to lead the way.
The knight led them through a maze of corridors, each one colder and darker than the last. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and something else—something faintly metallic, like blood. The sound of their footsteps echoed ominously, the silence between them growing heavier with each step. Layzal kept his gaze forward, his mind still, blocking out the growing tension among the others. This was the moment he had prepared for, and he would not let the fear of those around him seep into his own resolve.
They reached a large, unadorned door at the end of a narrow corridor. The knight pushed it open with a heavy creak, revealing a simple room beyond. The walls were bare stone, unyielding and cold, with no windows to let in the light. The room was dimly lit by a few torches set into the walls, their flickering flames casting eerie shadows across the floor. In the centre of the room stood a raised stone stage, and on it, a small pedestal.
Atop the pedestal rested a single object: a small, unassuming grey cube.
"This is where you will awaken your mana," the knight said, his voice echoing slightly in the enclosed space. He stepped aside, allowing the recruits to enter the room fully. "Each of you will approach the pedestal when called. The cube will draw out your dormant mana, forcing it to the surface. The process is… intense. You must endure it, or you will not survive."
The recruits shifted uneasily, glancing at one another, but Layzal's eyes were fixed on the cube. It was a simple object, unremarkable in appearance, yet it radiated a subtle power that he could almost feel from where he stood. This was the key to the next stage of their training, the gateway to the power they would need to survive the academy and the war beyond.
The knight began to call names, one by one, and the first recruit stepped forward, their footsteps hesitant as they approached the pedestal. Layzal watched closely, his gaze sharp and analytical. The recruit placed their hand on the cube, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, the air around them seemed to ripple, the torches flickering as a faint hum filled the room.
The recruit's body tensed, their face contorting in pain as the mana awakening began. A faint glow emanated from the cube, spreading through the recruit's hand and up their arm, the light pulsing in time with their ragged breaths. Layzal could see the strain, the way their muscles clenched and their eyes squeezed shut, fighting against the overwhelming force coursing through them.
Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last, until finally, the glow subsided, and the recruit stumbled back, breathing heavily. They had survived, but the experience had clearly taken its toll. The knight merely nodded and gestured for the next recruit to step forward.
The next recruit didn't quite have the same luck. A minute into the awakening process crimson red liquid seemed to pour from every orifice. His screams echoed in the small empty room as people cried out in shock and fear. His body continued to contort until he couldn't continue and died with a face full of agony.
The knight looked at the body contorted on the floor with indifference and picked his corpse up and threw it in the corner like it was nothing. The blood still pooled on the stage next to the cube as if nothing happened.
The knight looked at the crowd and his eyes flashed with something indiscernible. "Next, Layzal Regula". His cold voice echoed into the crowd.