The words of the headteacher drifted through the grand hall, their weighty significance blunted by the distance and the muffling effect of high, arching ceilings. Nalkul, sitting amongst his fellow graduates, let his gaze wander, knowing that this moment would never come again.
He sat in the Academy's heart's grand hall, a magnificent chamber that radiated a long history. The high, vaulted ceiling, adorned with intricate frescoes of celestial bodies, glimmered in the soft light filtering through the stained-glass windows. The panes displayed lifelike and noble faces of ancient gods; their art crafted over years to immortalize them in vibrant colors that danced with sunlight. The ceiling seemed to stretch infinitely above him, a vast expanse of artistry and legend that had saw countless generations pass through this very ritual.
Nalkul's eyes trailed downward, passing the ceiling's grandeur, to the assembly of nobles seated in the lower tiers draped in silks of deep crimson, gold, and midnight blue, sitting with an air of restrained opulence. Despite their polite interest, their faces showed the distinct features of lineage and privilege, Jewelry of all colors flashed with every subtle movement—a hand raised to adjust a collar; a whisper exchanged behind a gloved hand. Their eyes, cold and calculating, were like the gems they wore: vague, but hard, reflecting everything while revealing nothing.
Above him, in the elevated seats, the higher-ranking nobles reclined with a languid grace. Their garments were even more elaborate, stitched with threads of jedrine, a fabric of dark orchid color threaded with platinum that caught the light and shimmered like the stars. These were the true rulers of society, their every glance a command, their every gesture a decree. They looked down upon the proceedings with some distant detachment, as if this ceremony was a mere formality in the grand tapestry of their lives. Their eyes passed over the graduates like one might appraise a field of crops—looking for potential, for yield, for value.
Nalkul felt a rush of emotions as he saw his classmates sitting confidently next to him, all clad in the ceremonial robes of the Academy, a deep indigo that marked them as newly forged scholars and mages, ready to take on the world. Despite their simple design, the robes were enchanted and symbolized special privilege, representing honor, prestige, and exclusivity. The emerald trim along the edges seemed to glow in the ambient light, a symbol of the knowledge and discipline they had gained. Each student bore the same expression—a mix of pride, relief, and a touch of sadness—yet the subtleties varied across different races: the Aori's maintained a calm indifference, the humans displayed fidgety eye movements and nervous tics, while the Minotaur's took deep, deliberate breaths, their heads gently swaying side to side. The bonds formed here, in the crucible of their shared struggles, would be hard to replicate outside these walls.
Nalkul tried to absorb every detail, etching it into his memory. The way the sunlight refracted through the stained glass, casting rainbow patterns on the polished marble floor. The scent of incense and old parchment that lingered in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of the flowers that adorned the hall. The quiet rustle of his classmates' robes, the low hum of whispered conversations among the nobles, all blended into a symphony that filled him with a sense of completeness.
This was beauty, he thought. A beauty born not only of wealth and power but of tradition, of the countless lives that had passed through this place, leaving their mark on its stones and stories. He belonged to this now, a thread in the vast tapestry that stretched back to the dawn of the Academy. For a moment, he felt a sense of peace, a rare clarity that this was where he was, and that this moment was his to cherish.
As the headteacher's voice rose to its final crescendo, echoing off the stone walls, Nalkul allowed himself a small release of mana. This was his moment, their moment, and he would carry it with him into the uncertain future that lay beyond the Academy's gates. For now, though, he simply wanted to savor it—to let the beauty of the scene wash over him, to be present in this time and place, just once more before it became another memory.
"And so, with the power of knowledge and the strength of will, you stand ready to shape the world beyond these walls." The deep purple eyes of the headteacher survey the room looking up to the royalty and sweeping from left to right at each student. "Now, let us honor the finest among you, beginning with the top five from the Field of Abjuration, masters of protective magic." As the headteacher concluded his speech, he continued:
"In Fifth place: Gabesha Fang Cutter specializing in the Essential Historical Abjuration."
The room drenched in a deafening and oppressive silence, a near perfect silence meant to convey a point, observing each step of the red skin Oni with a broken horn, as she walked down the steps approaching the headteacher, stopping in front of him, she addressed him looking up and down sole focused on the headteacher; she bowed her head in a customary sign of respect, holding it for a couple seconds before raising her head. Turning back to the crowed of student, nobility and royalty, she walked back towards her seat indifferently as Indifference eyes stared firmly on her.
"In Fourth place: Cedric Thorn specializing in Comparative Hermetic Philosophy."
The room of nobles gave a round of snaps, as a dark teal-green human male walked towards the steps as he stepped before the headteacher and gave him a handshake, his head and face obscured by a stylized traditional Thyra and returning to his seat.
"In Third place: Jaxon Blackwood specializing in Theoretical Necromantic Writings."
Snapping echoed through the hall as the Sucho student walked towards the headteacher. A deep silence fell upon the crowded as her long platinum white hair swayed from side to side, face adorned with permanent marks and face paint, slashing scars peppered both her arms as high as one look, neck filled with many circular scars and her heels touching the ground.
"In Second place: Seraphina Dawn light specializing in Advanced Temporal Science."
The snapping increase to a crescendo, reverberating through the chamber. An unblemished Jehec walked on air, elegantly stepping on a lass floating inches of the ground, careful as to not come in contact with the ground as he approached the headteacher standing in front of him, he stood there reaching into his coat as to pull out a gift in a box and handed it to the headteacher.
"And finally, the top student, first place in the Field of Abjuration: Aelua Xilra specializing in the Chronology of High-Energy Abjuration."
To Nalkul left he could sense the waves of mana being released from two rows down. A dull emerald green cube appeared in the open palm of Aelua, expanding to encompass the entire room. Standing, she teleported beside the headteacher handing him as a pendent as a gift. The crowd erupts into applause, the sound of clapping hands filling the room. The headteacher bowed to her, as she teleported back to her seat.
As The ceremony continued, Nalkul sat motionless and attentive, captivated by everything, hearing the names of each student and the subsequent reaction both positive and negative. As the headteacher listed each field of magic, naming the top five students in each, along with their specialties and a brief of note appreciation, before moving on to the next. Starting with the field of Abjuration, next Conjuration, then Divination and so on
As the applause for rank one Necromancy gradually subsided, the headteacher stepped forward once more, his voice commanding the attention of all present.
"And now," he continued, a slight pause adding weight to his words, "we turn to the next field, where the very fabric of matter is shaped and altered—the Field of Transmutation."
A clam and a reserved round of snaps echoed through the room. As the sound slowly faded, the headteacher announced "in fifth place: Renell Carr, specializing in High-Energy Alteration"
The nobles acknowledged the achievement with a polite snap of their fingers as a human male walked down the steps towards the headteacher receiving his award before walking back to his seat.
"'In Fourth place: Elnia Brightkind, specializing in Higher Dimensional Evolution."
Nobles snapped their fingers in approval as a dwarven woman walked up the steps, embracing the headteacher as a sign of respect before standing beside him look into the crowed, finally turning to leave.
"In Third place: NPC #2 specializing in Meta Physical Transformation"
Snapping echoes through the hall around, as a Sucho walked towards the headteacher receiving their award and returning to thier seat.
"In Second place: ylmiern chorzeh specializing in Cross species cellular Transfiguration"
With each step, the Sucho elegantly walked on air, as if he had studied to do so, floating inches off the ground. Approaching the headteacher, he made sure not to touch the ground as the hall fell into a reverent silence as he approached the headteacher, his unblemished face marked only by a scar and faint needle marks near his collarbone. In the silence, he returned to his seat, head held high.
"And finally, the top student, first place in the Field of Transmutation: nulkul, specializing in the Theoretical High Magic."
Upon hearing his name, nulkul rose, adjusting his robe and smoothing down a nervous tangle of hair. He walked up to the headteacher, head held high, the silence deafening as all eyes followed him, judging him, questioning his right to be there. Arriving on the stage, he brought up both his hands and faced his palms up. A brilliant pink light shone from the crystallized magic core. The headteacher placed his hands on top of nalkul hands facing down, touching hands they looked at each other for a couple of seconds before letting go, nalkul returned to his seat.
As Nalkul turned to face the crowd, a sense of accomplishment washed over him—one step closer to his goal. The faces staring back were unreadable or filled with disgust, particularly among the Aori, and that only fueled his resolve.
Walking up steps back to his seat, he could still feel the eyes on him as the headteacher continued his announcement moving on to the field of emissions. His friend had already been called up so all he had to do was wait until the rest of the fields had been called.
Nulkul thought to himself absentmindedly, reflecting on the past five years. They hadn't been bad—some of the best years of his life, in fact, filled with research, travel, and the friendships he'd forged along the way. Despite that, his goal remained out of reach. Sitting back, he closed his eyes, detaching from the world around him as he delved deeper into his thoughts. I think I'll have to become a specialized mage; he mused. Conjuration might be the way forward, but that would require mastering higher-dimensional math and a lot of dimensional classes. Evocation could work too; I already have the mana for it, but I'll have to learn about fundamental ritualistic techniques, history, and even some beginner martial arts.
A soft vibration on his geometric antler interrupted his thoughts. He could feel a spell being cast, likely signaling the end of the ceremony. Opening his eyes, he looked toward the headteacher, who was just finishing his speech.
"By the power vested in me, I declare this ceremony concluded. Rise, graduates, and take your place in history," the headteacher announced, striking the ground twice with his staff. Mana surged from the surroundings, and a golden circle with intricate words and layers appeared above the staff. It seemed to be a conjuration spell, likely to summon an item from subspace.
A small, shiny lapis-blue stone materialized before Nulkul and his classmates, radiating with potent mana.
Without hesitation, Nulkul opened his personal subspace and tossed the stone inside instinctually as a safety reaction. He then accompanied the others as they entered the grand hall where the graduation celebration would take place. As his classmate interacted with one another and other nobles freed from societal expectations and biases, nalkul quickly became very Disinterested with the even. Walking until he left the building, making his way down the endless hallways with their perfectly identical patterns.
He soon found himself in the garden beside the building, navigating a short maze of hedges until he reached a small outdoor seating area perched on a cliff overlooking the capital city. Far in the distance, he could make out the faint outlines of boats leaving the port, crossing the horizon.
As he gazed into the sunset, Nulkul's thoughts wandered to the idea of the perfect spell. What would it look like?