Morning at Regort
The inner courtyard of Regort Academy was veiled in a thin layer of morning mist. The copper bell resonated across the towers, drawing a stream of students rushing from their dormitories.
On the damp, paved paths, the colors of the uniforms blended into a lively tapestry—each House sporting a distinct tone, reflecting their unique character and spirit.
Phoenixes were the most vibrant. Their scarlet robes, trimmed with gold, shimmered in the early sunlight like dancing flames. The buttons bore the image of a phoenix spreading its wings, symbolizing the power of rebirth. Their robes were slightly shorter for ease of movement, and most wore matching scarves or armbands—a clear sign of their unity.
Eaglie chose deep blue mixed with silver. Their robes were straight, with high, neat collars, matching their serious demeanor. Students from this House walked with measured steps; their emblem was a silver-winged eagle reflecting the morning light.
Foxly was softer, favoring earthen orange mixed with bronze. Their soft fabric coats featured hoods embroidered with fox fur around the edges. They always looked as if they were suppressing a gentle laugh, a bit mischievous yet warm, especially since their sleeves always held small pockets for tucking away various odd items (most of which no one knew what they were).
Serpentis was the complete opposite—ankle-length black robes, lined with jade green. The edges were embroidered with sharp, scale-like patterns that, when viewed from an angle, seemed to move. Their buttons were cold and polished silver. They walked slowly, spoke little, but their presence spread like an encircling cold mist.
All wore the Regort crest—a round badge etched with the image of the castle at night, bordered by the four symbols of the four Houses. As the morning light shone down, every student in the courtyard looked like a moving part of the long story that was just beginning.
Lena adjusted her robe, the red flashing under the sun; Neval pulled up his collar, feeling a slight chill; and Juston, still smiling when he saw a few Foxly students hiding something in their sleeves.
"Our first lesson looks like a magical parade, doesn't it?" he muttered, and Rissy simply smiled: "Yes, it truly does."
The second bell rang. All four Houses began to separate into the paths leading to their respective academic sectors, carrying their colors that blended into the dissolving mist.
The First Lesson
Dawn cast a layer of light, pale as honey, upon the glass tower of Regort Academy. The gray stone walls absorbed the night dew, and the tall arched windows glittered with a thin, golden hue. The distant clang of the bell awoke the entire Phoenixes dormitory.
Rissy rubbed her eyes, her hair a messy bird's nest. Beside her bed, Lena had already neatly folded her blanket and adjusted the House crest on her robe.
"Hurry up, Rissy. We might miss breakfast!"
"I'm awake... I think," Rissy sluggishly sat up, her eyes still closed.
On the adjacent beds, Neval and Juston were arguing over a necktie.
"It needs to be tied like this, watch me!" Neval wildly waved his hands, tangling the tie into a knot.
"Ah, the 'Chaos Knot,' is it? Perfectly done," Juston chuckled, tying a neat one for his friend.
"Shut up, at least I tried!"
Outside the window, a small phoenix feather bird perched on the railing, shaking its wings and shedding small particles of light. The air was fresh yet unfamiliar, filling everyone with excitement.
When the group stepped down to the dining hall for breakfast, the room was filled with the smell of buttered toast, hot milk, and lively chatter. Hundreds of candles floated in the air, reflecting off the long wooden tables.
Neval immediately grabbed two slices of toast. "What's our first subject today?"
"Basic Charms," Lena replied, looking at the glowing notice board on the wall. "Professor Cline is teaching."
"I heard he's very easygoing," Rissy smiled, a little nervous. "But also strict if anyone blows up a desk."
"Good, then it won't be me," Juston shrugged, his voice calm.
The Basic Charms classroom was on the third floor of the South Tower, with a high ceiling and arched windows. Light streamed through the amber-colored glass panes, illuminating the polished wooden desks. On each desk lay an unlit candle and a scroll of parchment.
In the Classroom
Professor Cline walked in—tall, with a flowing white beard and a kind smile.
"Good morning, Phoenixes students. Today, we learn how to control the flow of energy. Not by strength, but by focus."
He placed his hand on a candle and whispered softly:
"Luminara."
The candle flared, then gently swayed as if dancing to invisible music. The whole class let out a collective "ooh."
"Now, let's try one by one. No need for power, just precision."
Rissy took a deep breath and extended her hand.
"Luminara!"
Her candle flashed brightly, then sputtered out. A thin wisp of smoke went up her nose, making her cough. Lena leaned over:
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine... I think."
It was Neval's turn. He raised his wand, straining his face.
"Luminara!"
A blinding flash shot out, making the whole row of seats scramble. Smoke billowed up; Rissy burst out laughing while Lena frowned, fanning the smoke away.
Professor Cline cleared his throat slightly:
"Excellent, very powerful energy. But Neval, next time try not to... burn down the desk."
"Yes, Professor..." Neval pulled a long face, giving a sheepish smile.
Juston tried last. He didn't speak loudly, only whispered:
"Luminara."
The candle lit evenly, glowing perfectly.
"Precisely done," the Professor nodded. "Controlling energy like this requires patience and intuition."
Rissy looked at the candlelight from Juston's desk, something twinkling in her eyes. That feeling of being small—both nervous and eager to try harder. Lena saw this and smiled softly:
"Let's practice together next time."
"Okay," Rissy nodded.
The class ended with the long chime of the bell. Some candles were still flickering, having been warped by the heat, and a few had burned through the twine holding the scrolls. Neval looked at the scene, scratching his head:
"If the Professor let me practice more, this room would really catch fire."
"Yeah, it'd catch fire and we'd roll right into Defense Against the Dark Arts. Convenient," Juston replied matter-of-factly.
The group burst into laughter, their voices echoing in the long stone corridor, blending with the sound of footsteps bouncing off the ancient walls.
That Afternoon
In the afternoon, the scent of damp earth spread through the Herbology sector. The wide greenhouse had a curved, moss-covered roof, and sunlight streaming through the panes created shimmering streaks on the planting tables. The potted plants made soft "rustling" sounds when someone approached.
Professor Hennel—a short woman with frizzy gray hair and huge spectacles—spoke in a high-pitched voice:
"Today, we plant the Lunaria herb. Whoever can make its flower shine will pass the first lesson. Be careful; it likes compliments and hates complaints!"
Detus looked at the flower in the pot; they looked very strange to him. Perhaps he had never seen one before.
"Professor. What is that thing?"
Hennel gently stroked the pot and replied to his naive question:
"The Lunaria plant is a magical herb sensitive to emotion. It glows purple when complimented and dims when scolded.
It is used to train soft energy control—spells based on gentle emotion, patience, not force.
Its petals can later be an ingredient for healing potions or magic power enhancers."
Neval looked at his potted plant—the green leaves seemed to be... glaring back at him.
"Teacher... I mean, Professor, why is it looking at me like it's about to bite?"
"It's sensitive to whining," the Professor replied calmly. "Smile at it."
Neval forced a smile:
"H-hi... you're so beautiful..."
The plant trembled, then poof! tiny purple flowers bloomed.
"Oh my! It actually worked!" Rissy laughed.
Lena gently placed her hand on the soil and softly spoke an energy-nurturing incantation. The flowers bloomed instantly, their white petals reflecting a warm light in her eyes.
Juston tried to imitate them, but his flower... folded down.
"It seems it doesn't like calculation," Lena said.
"It hates people who are too serious," Neval chimed in. "Just compliment it, dude!"
"Uh... You are very, hmm... beautiful," Juston said quickly, his voice stiff.
The flower sprang up and burst into bloom, as if complimented exactly right.
The group burst into laughter, their voices mixing with the smell of earth and the shining light.
At the end of the hour, Professor Hennel walked around to check.
"Excellent work. Phoenixes seem compatible with Lunaria. Knowing how to care, knowing patience—that is the first step of a magic student."
Back at the dorm that evening, the room glowed gold from the hearth. The group sat around a small round table, steam rising from their teacups.
Neval recounted his shield incident, exaggerating it so much that Juston nearly choked on his tea.
"And then I unleashed a magnificent counter-attack, which brightened up the whole courtyard!"
"Counter-attack? I only saw you lying flat on the ground," Lena smiled.
"Minor details!" Neval waved his hand.
Rissy leaned back in her chair, watching the firelight dance.
"Today was truly fun. I thought studying magic would be drier."
"It is fun," Juston said calmly. "If every day is like this, I think I'll learn a lot."
"Exactly," Lena nodded. "Tomorrow is Transfiguration. I heard it's the hardest subject in the first year."
Neval swallowed hard. "I hope it doesn't explode like today, right?"
"You just wait and see," Juston replied, with a face so serious that the whole room erupted in laughter.
Outside the window, the moon shone through the glass, falling onto the study table in a soft streak of light. The ancient clock ticked, and in the small room, five students—still clumsy, still eager—began to dream their first dreams of Regort.