The morning light painted the city in hues of gold and soft blue as I stepped out of the inn with a big bag on my back. Despite the early hour, Aldenholm's streets were already alive with activity. Vendors were setting up their stalls, their voices calling out greetings to early customers. Children darted through the crowd, laughing as they chased each other, and the occasional clatter of hooves and wheels on cobblestones punctuated the air.
I walked along the bustling streets, the cool morning air invigorating despite the hum of life around me. The city seemed to glow in the dawn's light, its polished marble buildings reflecting the sun's rays in soft, warm tones.
As I wove through the throng of people, my destination came into view—the Archatian Academy.
The building stood apart from the surrounding structures, its architecture marked by both elegance and purpose. It was large but not ostentatious, its smooth stone walls a light gray that gleamed faintly in the sun. Columns flanked the wide front doors, their surfaces carved with intricate runes and symbols that seemed to shimmer faintly when the light hit them just right. The roof was crowned with an elegant dome, its surface inlaid with golden patterns that gave it a touch of grandeur without overpowering the structure's modesty.
The grounds surrounding the Academy were well-kept, with manicured hedges and a small fountain at the center of a paved courtyard. The fountain's water sparkled as it flowed, the soft sound adding a layer of calm to the busy streets just beyond.
Standing near the front doors were Nessa and Clara. Even from a distance, I could see Nessa bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, her excitement unmistakable. Clara stood beside her, more composed but no less present, her gaze scanning the courtyard until it landed on me. She raised a hand in greeting, a small smile lighting her face.
I quickened my pace, the sight of them drawing me forward.
"So, how was it?" I asked Nessa as I approached, unable to keep the amusement out of my voice.
Her face lit up, and she practically bounced on the balls of her feet. "It's amazing!" she said, her voice bursting with excitement. "The building's so big, and Clara says there's magic everywhere—even the windows!"
Clara laughed softly, shaking her head. "I said the windows are enchanted to clean themselves, Nessa. Not that they're magic all the time."
Nessa waved her hand dismissively. "Same thing!"
I chuckled, her enthusiasm warming the morning air. "Well, I'm glad you like it," I said, giving her a nod. "Let's see what it's like inside, shall we?"
We turned toward the Academy's large rune-etched doors, and I stepped forward to push one open. But just as I did, the door swung sharply outward, almost hitting me square in the face. I stumbled back, blinking in surprise, as a young boy stepped out with a swagger that seemed comically at odds with his size.
The boy was small, just a little taller than Nessa, with a wiry frame and sharp features. His hair was messy, as if he'd barely given it a second thought, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. His posture screamed confidence—his chin raised, his arms crossed—but his expression carried an unmistakable cockiness, as though the world itself owed him something.
He looked at me briefly, his gaze flitting over Clara, but then his attention locked onto Nessa. He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a slight smirk. "Do you want to enroll here?" he asked, his tone dripping with mockery.
His eyes darted over Nessa, clearly assessing her.
Nessa didn't flinch. Instead, she raised her chin, her eyes narrowing as she stared him down. "And what is it to you?" she shot back, her voice firm and unyielding.
The boy's smirk faltered for a moment, as though he hadn't expected her to respond at all, let alone challenge him. He stared at her in silence, his confidence wavering. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stomped off, his small frame disappearing down the steps in a flurry of exaggerated dignity.
We watched him go, Clara shaking her head in bemusement. "Well, that was... something," she said, glancing down at Nessa.
I couldn't help but grin, pride swelling in my chest. "You handled that well," I said.
Nessa shrugged, though a small, satisfied smile tugged at her lips. "You taught me to stand up for myself, Mr. Harith."
Before I could reply, the sound of hurried footsteps drew our attention. An older man, his gray robes fluttering and his face flushed with exertion, came rushing toward the doors, panting as he climbed the steps.
"Breon!" the man called out, his voice sharp despite his clear exhaustion. "Breon, get back here right this instant!"
The boy—Breon, I assumed—paused for just a moment at the base of the stairs, glancing back at the man with a grin that was more mischief than apology. Then, without a word, he darted into the crowd, vanishing as quickly as he'd appeared.
The older man groaned, bracing himself against the doorframe as he caught his breath. He glanced at us briefly, offering a tired but polite nod before muttering, "That boy will be the end of me," and hurrying off after him.
I shook my head, chuckling softly as I turned back to Nessa and Clara. "Let's hope you don't give your teachers that much trouble, Nessa."
Nessa grinned up at me, her confidence unwavering. "Not a chance," she said.
"Good," I said, motioning toward the now-clear doorway. "Come on, then. Let's get you inside."
The room we stepped into was grand, almost intimidating in its size, with towering bookshelves lining the walls and magical artifacts displayed in glass cases. The air felt different here, charged with a faint hum that made my skin tingle. My eyes were still adjusting to the faint glow of runes that seemed to float across the ceiling when a sudden burst of blinking light erupted behind a massive desk at the center of the room.
I stumbled back instinctively, my heart pounding. The light wasn't harsh or blinding, but it shimmered and pulsed, forming an array of colors that twisted and swirled like smoke caught in a beam of sunlight. It gathered in a single spot, flickering and folding in on itself, until with a faint pop, the light dissipated, leaving a figure standing where there had been none before.
I blinked, my breath catching as I tried to make sense of what I'd just seen. To a humble man like me, it was nothing short of a miracle—or perhaps a trick.
"Welcome," the figure said, their voice smooth and authoritative, breaking through my confusion. "To the Archatian Academy, the finest institution of magical learning on this continent. What can I help you with today?"
The figure was a tall woman with a commanding presence. Her flowing robes shimmered faintly, shifting colors like an oil slick as she moved. In her hand was a long, slender wand that seemed to pulse faintly with a light of its own. Her eyes, sharp and piercing, flicked over each of us, as if she could see straight into our minds.
I cleared my throat, suddenly acutely aware of how out of place I felt. "Uh, good morning," I began, feeling the weight of her gaze. "I... I'm here to enroll this young lady." I gestured toward Nessa, who stood a little taller under the attention. "She's, uh, got potential. Great potential, I think."
The woman raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a faint smile. "Potential, you say?" she said, her tone both amused and curious. "Well, Mr...?"
"Harith," I supplied quickly.
"Mr. Harith," she continued, "at the Archatian Academy, we only accept the very best. And to prove one's worth, a test is required."
I glanced at Nessa, who was already looking up at the woman with unwavering confidence.
The woman lifted her wand, and with a graceful motion, she pointed it at the far wall. The runes there shimmered and began to shift, rearranging themselves until they formed the outline of a door. A moment later, the door solidified, its edges glowing faintly as if it were both real and not at the same time.
She gestured toward it with a slight incline of her head. "The student will need to enter that room. Inside, she will be tested. It is her test alone, and no one else may intervene."
Without waiting for any encouragement, Nessa stepped forward. Her small frame seemed impossibly steady as she walked up to the door, placed her hand on the handle, and pushed it open. She glanced back at us briefly, her expression determined, before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.
The room fell silent.
"What's the test?" Clara asked, her voice breaking the stillness.
The woman didn't respond immediately. Her sharp gaze lingered on the closed door for a moment before she turned back to us, her expression unreadable. "That," she said finally, "is for the student to discover."
The quiet weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the hum of the magical energy around us seemed to grow louder. I found myself holding my breath, wondering what awaited Nessa on the other side of that door.
The silence of the room was broken by the faint creak of the door as it opened again. All of us turned in unison, our breaths catching as Nessa stepped out.
Her face was radiant, her chin held high with quiet confidence. Her small frame seemed to carry an unshakable strength, and though she didn't say a word, her expression said it all—she had completed the test.
Clara blinked, her hand moving instinctively to cover her mouth. "Nessa?" she whispered, her voice a mix of disbelief and awe.
The woman at the desk didn't move, her sharp eyes fixed on Nessa with an intensity that seemed to pierce the air itself. For a moment, she said nothing, her expression flickering between surprise and something else—something almost reverent.
"You," she said finally, her voice softer but no less commanding, "must be a prodigy."
Nessa's gaze didn't waver, her chin lifting slightly higher at the word.
The woman continued, shaking her head as if trying to process what she was seeing. "No one finishes the test that fast," she said, almost to herself. "Not even our most recent prodigy."
Clara turned to the woman, her eyes wide. "What does that mean?" she asked, her voice tight with concern.
But the woman didn't look at Clara. Her focus remained entirely on Nessa, her expression unreadable. "It means," she said slowly, "that your sister has a gift—a rare one."
The weight of her words settled over the room, and I found myself staring at Nessa, marveling at the sheer determination that had carried her through this moment. Whatever she'd faced in that room, she had faced it alone—and come out triumphant.
"Well," I said finally, breaking the silence with a small smile. "What did I tell you, Nessa? I knew you could do it."
Her serious expression softened, a small, triumphant grin tugging at her lips. "Told you I'd be fine, Mr. Harith."
The woman at the desk straightened, her composure returning as she turned to me. "Mr. Harith," she said, her voice once again smooth and professional, "it seems your companion has more than earned her place here. She will be enrolled immediately."
Clara exhaled a shaky breath, her hand resting on Nessa's shoulder. "I always knew you were special," she said softly, her voice brimming with pride.
Nessa just smiled, her confidence shining as brightly as the runes that glowed faintly on the walls around us.
The woman at the desk straightened, her gaze sharpening as she clasped her hands together. "But," she said, her tone firm, "even the most special student still needs to pay. The entrance fee is 2,000 gold. Being a special case, Nessa will not pay anything else until she graduates."
The words hung in the air like a weight, and I could feel Clara tense beside me.
"I'll pay it now," I said quickly, reaching for my coin pouch. But before I could move further, Clara grabbed my hand, her grip firm.
"2,000 gold is a lot," she said, her voice low and cautious.
She wasn't wrong. It was a fortune for someone like me. My years as a merchant had been profitable, and I'd saved what I could, but this amount would eat into my reserves deeply. Still, I was okay with it. Nessa deserved this chance, and I had always believed that gold was worth nothing if it couldn't be used for something meaningful.
"It is a lot," I thought to myself, the weight of the pouch suddenly heavier in my hand. "But for her, it's worth it."
Clara, ever resourceful, looked at the woman. "Is there any discount or something like that?" she asked, her tone firm but polite. "You said it yourself—my sister has a rare gift. Surely your Academy will benefit from having her enrolled here."
The woman tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful but unreadable. She didn't respond immediately, her eyes instead flicking past us, focusing on something—or someone—behind us.
I turned, and my breath caught.
A figure emerged from the same door Nessa had entered for her test. He wasn't particularly tall, but there was something about him—an aura of quiet authority that seemed to fill the room. His dark robes were adorned with faintly glowing sigils that seemed to pulse with life, and his eyes, sharp and piercing, seemed to see straight through me.
Even as a man who knew nothing of magic, I could tell this was someone powerful. His very presence seemed to hum with restrained energy, a reminder that while he looked calm, he was likely capable of things I couldn't begin to comprehend.
"Nessa has a special ability indeed," he said, his voice deep and resonant, carrying a weight that demanded attention. "But even if the Mage of the Heroes of the Realm enrolled here, she would still need to pay. It is not cheap to keep this Academy running."
Clara opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand, his eyes never leaving Nessa. "However," he continued, his tone softening slightly, "for her, I can give you one last special price: 1,000 gold. That is it. She is indeed... a special one."
"Deal," I said without hesitation, pulling the pouch of coins from my bag and handing it to him.
Clara's eyes widened, her grip on my arm tightening briefly before she let go. Nessa's face lit up with gratitude, her wide eyes shimmering as she looked up at me.
"Thank you," Clara said softly, her voice carrying a mix of astonishment and relief.
"Thank you, Mr. Harith," Nessa echoed, her words filled with sincerity.
I smiled, ruffling Nessa's hair lightly. "Don't thank me just yet. You've got a lot of work ahead of you now, Nessa. Make it count."
She nodded, her determination as bright as the runes glowing softly around the room.
"Very well then," the man said, his voice steady and commanding. "Welcome to the Archatian Academy, Miss Nessa." He paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on her with a mix of curiosity and approval before continuing. "However, you'll be learning directly from the very best in this continent."
He snapped his fingers, and the air beside him shimmered with a faint golden light. In an instant, someone appeared, as though stepping effortlessly from another world.
I couldn't help but stare.
She was striking, with hair that seemed almost alive—a cascade of rich red that glowed like molten fire under the soft light of the room, flowing down her back in perfect waves. Her bright blue eyes, sharp and crystalline, seemed to pierce straight through you, their intensity softened only slightly by the kindness that lingered in her gaze.
Her pale skin was flawless, her features balanced with a kind of natural elegance that made it hard to look away. There was something almost ethereal about her, as though she carried the touch of the divine, a beauty that felt both extraordinary and entirely unattainable.
And yet, for all her striking appearance, it wasn't her beauty that left the strongest impression. It was the way she stood—with a quiet confidence that commanded respect, her posture tall and poised, as if she carried the weight of something far greater than herself with effortless grace.
"This," the man said, gesturing toward the shimmering space beside him, "is Sihir, the very best mage on the continent and the one who struck down Astoroth."
At the sound of the name, the air seemed to shift, growing heavier as the shimmering light beside the man coalesced into a figure.
Sihir.
She stood tall and commanding, a presence that demanded attention without a single word. Her crimson hair, rich and vibrant, fell in cascading waves that caught the light, as though each strand carried a piece of the sun itself. Her bright blue eyes were sharp, crystalline, and alive with an intensity that seemed to cut through the room.
Her features were flawless, her pale skin unblemished, but her beauty wasn't what truly defined her. It was the sheer weight of her presence—the way she stood, like a warrior who had faced the abyss and come out victorious. She exuded a calm, quiet power that made the air hum faintly around her, as if the magic she wielded was a natural extension of her very being.
For a moment, I could only stare. Even a man like me, who knew nothing of magic or battle, could feel it—the force of her achievements, the stories that surrounded her name, the kind of history that shaped legends.
Her gaze flicked toward Nessa, her expression unreadable but piercing all the same. "If you are to study under me," she said, her voice smooth but carrying a weight that silenced the room, "you will need to prove yourself worthy. I do not accept anything less than excellence."
Nessa stood straighter, her chin lifting, her small frame seeming to draw strength from the moment. "I'll give you my best," she said, her voice steady.
A faint smile tugged at Sihir's lips, though it didn't soften her sharp gaze. "See that you do," she said simply.
I glanced at Clara, who was staring wide-eyed at Sihir, her hand resting lightly on Nessa's shoulder as if anchoring herself to reality.
As for me, I felt a quiet awe. Sihir wasn't just the best mage on the continent—she was the kind of figure who could fill the world with her presence alone. And now, somehow, Nessa was standing before her, ready to embark on a journey I could scarcely comprehend.
I allowed myself a small smile, pride swelling in my chest. If anyone could rise to meet Sihir's expectations, it was Nessa.
Sihir's gaze lingered on Nessa for a brief moment longer before she snapped her fingers. In an instant, the air shimmered with a faint ripple of energy, and then—just like that—Sihir, Nessa, and the man were gone.
They vanished so quickly that it left me stunned. I hadn't even said goodbye, but perhaps there was no need. Nessa had made it this far, and I knew she'd handle herself well here. Still, a pang of longing tugged at me. She'd been by my side for days, and now she was suddenly gone, embarking on a path I could only hope would lead her to greatness.
The woman at the desk cleared her throat, drawing my attention back to the room. "Now, as the guardian of the student," she said, her tone professional and unwavering, "you are permitted to visit her once per week. No more than that. Since Miss Nessa is a special student, she will reside here at the Academy, with no cost to her or her family."
I glanced at Clara, who exhaled deeply, her shoulders relaxing as relief washed over her. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice soft but sincere.
The woman nodded curtly. "You may bring her clothes or any personal belongings she might need tomorrow. The Academy will handle everything else from this point forward."
I inclined my head in gratitude. "Thank you," I said simply.
The woman's sharp eyes softened slightly, and with a faint smile, she said, "Thank you for visiting the Archatian Academy. I'll see you on your next visit."
Then, with the same shimmer of light that had heralded Sihir's arrival, she too vanished, leaving Clara and me alone in the now-quiet room.
For a moment, I stood there, staring at the spot where Nessa and the others had disappeared. A part of me still couldn't believe everything that had just happened. But I let the thought settle, a quiet pride filling the space they'd left behind.
"She'll be alright," Clara said softly, her hand resting on my arm.
I nodded, a faint smile touching my lips. "Yeah," I said, my voice steady. "She will."
We walked toward the exit together in silence, the air heavy with unspoken words. The weight of the bag on my back seemed to grow heavier with every step, as if the burden of this moment had made the straps dig deeper into my shoulders.
At the door, Clara stopped and turned to me. Her voice was soft but steady, though her eyes shimmered with emotion. "Once again, Mr. Harith... thank you. You've literally changed her life."
Before I could respond, she stepped forward and hugged me tightly. Her small frame pressed against mine, and despite everything she had endured, she felt warm, resilient.
"I will take care of her," she said, her voice muffled against my chest. "Just like you take care of Ellara. You've given us another chance at life, and we'll remember that."
I reached out and patted her head gently, the gesture as much for me as it was for her. "I'm sorry to add more to your burden," I said softly, my voice calm but heavy with understanding. "But I know you, Clara. I knew you when you were just a child. You'll manage this. You're stronger than you realize."
Her grip tightened for a moment, and then I felt it—the dampness on my shoulder. She was crying, her quiet sobs muffled, but they reached deep into me. I held her a little closer, knowing all too well the weight she carried and how few people could truly understand it.
"Thank you," she said through her sobs. "Thank you."
"Anytime, Clara," I replied gently, my voice steady despite the tightness in my throat. I slowly let go of her hug, taking a moment to wipe the tears from her face with my handkerchief.
"My daughter is waiting for me," I said, forcing a small smile. "You take care of yourself too, alright? And buy yourself some new clothes while you're at it. You deserve it."
She nodded, though the tears still lingered in her eyes. "Take care," she whispered.
I turned and began to walk away, the sound of my boots on the marble floor echoing in the quiet hallway. I could feel her gaze on my back, and I knew she didn't want me to go. Poor kid. For all her strength, she still looked like the girl I used to know—the one who needed guidance, who needed someone to stand by her.
I wanted to stay. She needed me. But I had my own responsibilities waiting for me. My daughter's wedding wasn't just a destination; it was a promise I had made, a path I couldn't abandon.
And so, I kept walking, my steps steady but heavy. I didn't look back. If I did, I might not have been able to leave.
To be continued...