The lecture hall of the Mana Bureau Academy was nothing like the other classrooms. Its vaulted ceiling stretched high above, painted with swirling constellations that shimmered faintly under mage-light. Along the walls, carved murals depicted robed figures—twelve gods, each wreathed in their divine symbols: flame, shadow, light, wind, stone, water.
Alex trailed beside Kael and Riven, the three of them stepping inside with trays of parchment and quills. His eyes flicked immediately toward the second row, where Saphira and Edrin sat together. Both looked a little lost in the sea of new faces.
Without hesitation, Alex led the way. "Here looks good," he murmured, slipping into the seat beside Saphira. Riven dropped down next to him with his usual grin, while Kael settled with composed ease on Edrin's other side.
Saphira blinked, surprised. "You're… sitting with us?"
"Of course," Alex said simply, as if it were the most natural thing.
Edrin ducked his head, but there was a flicker of relief in his shy smile.
Whispers stirred behind them. Nobles glanced sideways, trading looks, but no one dared voice their judgment too loudly—not with the son of Duke Havana, heir of Skyrim, and scion of Rosetta choosing to sit with commoners.
The creak of the hall's doors silenced the room.
An elderly man swept inside, robes trailing like smoke, his long silver hair bound at the nape of his neck. His presence filled the hall—not with raw mana, but with weighty authority.
"Freshmen," his voice rang out, deep and measured, "I am Professor Orelan Netherbane of the Dukedom of Nether. My mana affinity is Earth." He raised a hand, and the stone floor beneath their feet pulsed faintly as if to affirm his words. "I will be guiding you through the histories of our gods, the keepers of mana, and the truths behind the elements you wield."
Alex leaned forward, captivated. Riven, however, leaned back lazily, whispering under his breath, "Hope you're ready, Cupcake. If he drones too long, you might need me to poke you awake."
Alex's lips curved into a small, amused smile. "I think I'll survive."
Saphira's eyes darted between them, startled at the ease of Riven's teasing—and even more so at Alex's unbothered response. Edrin muffled a laugh into his sleeve.
Professor Orelan's gaze swept the hall. For a moment, it lingered in their row, sharp and knowing. "In this hall, we show reverence. The gods gifted mana not for mockery, but for stewardship. Remember that."
The chuckles died quickly, replaced with a hum of tension. Alex straightened, feeling heat rise to his cheeks, though Riven only smirked, unrepentant.
Orelan moved to the mural of the gods at the front, staff tapping once against the stone. "Twelve gods. Six of mana, six of dominion. Flame, Air, Water, Earth, Dark, and Light—the six affinities you wield. Above them, the six of dominion: Order, Chaos, Life, Death, Time, and Fate. It is said that every mana is the breath of the first six, shaped through the will of the latter."
His voice wove through the room like a spell. "When you summon flame or light, you call not only upon elemental power but the memory of divinity itself. That is why respect is required. Without reverence, mana is hollow."
Alex felt the words sink into him, heavy but stirring. At his side, Kael was already scratching neat notes onto parchment. Saphira's eyes stayed fixed on the mural, her lips parted slightly in awe. Edrin fidgeted, overwhelmed but attentive.
And Riven—Riven leaned close to Alex again, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Reverence or not, you'll look good with fire dancing in your hands. Don't forget that."
Alex huffed softly, shaking his head, though the warmth in his chest betrayed him.
For the first time, he thought, this was starting to feel real—not just classes or lineage, but something greater.