A faint mist still floated above the rooftops when Naye and Vaelir climbed the steps of the Eastern Amphitheater — where their very first theoretical magic lessons would be held.
The building looked like a silent hall of worship: tall vaults, rows of curved benches, a platform in dark polished wood.The stained-glass windows filtered in a bluish light, giving the place an atmosphere both solemn and unreal.
— It looks like a temple, whispered Naye.— It was, replied Vaelir, yawning.Well… it was, centuries ago. The Academy reclaimed it when the local cult died of old age.
They sat on the side, halfway up, hoping not to attract attention.
Eleanor, meanwhile, was in the other amphitheater — the one reserved for Exploration students.
The room quickly filled up.
Some tables were already trembling with the excitement of dozens of students leaning across them. Many were talking about energy, spells, rumors… as if magic would simply appear before them in the first minute.
Naye, for his part, could only feel his heart beating a little too fast.
Then a man entered: tall, lean, dressed in a grey coat with blue trim, white hair falling to his shoulders.
Nothing extravagant — yet his presence silenced the room instantly.
— Master Oren Valceïde, whispered a student in front of them.
— The one? murmured Vaelir.
— The one who set an entire river on fire last year.
— Impressive, commented Vaelir, laying his head down on the desk.
Naye stared at him, disbelieving.
The professor stepped to the center. His voice was clear, perfectly controlled:
— Welcome to Introduction to Magic.I will be your instructor for the year.Our goal is simple: to guide you to your awakening, and to your first contact with mana.
A shiver ran through the amphitheater.
— Magic is not a toy, nor a talent.It is a threshold. And only those who understand what they handle ever truly cross it.
This year, you will study theory, breathing, perception, discipline of body and mind.We will not cast any spells before at least three months.
A groan ran through the room.
Vaelir, half asleep, did not react.
Naye could not believe it.
— To begin, I want each of you to understand the basics.What is mana?
He paused.
Then he made a small bluish spark appear between his fingers — pulsing like a tiny heartbeat.
— Mana is the substance that allows reality to be shaped.Not created — shaped.The difference is crucial.
But before we go further…
He snapped his fingers. An assistant unfurled a large canvas behind him.
— I will give you the foundational principles.In a few minutes, I will ask one of you to explain it back, in your own words.
Naye felt a cold bead of sweat run down his spine.
Vaelir turned his head, without opening his eyes.
— Don't panic, he murmured.They always pick the first student on the list — and you're never first in anything.
— That's not reassuring! whispered Naye.
Vaelir shrugged, already dozing off.
— Mana is a form of energy that composes our world, said Master Oren, his voice echoing under the vaults like a metallic note.Naturally, it flows without affecting anything… or almost.
He traced a circular motion in the air; a soft blue ripple followed his hand.
— The mage's goal is first to feel this energy — in both body and mind.That is the first step: awakening.
He paused, observing the attentive — or terrified — faces.
— Each of you is predisposed to manipulate mana in a particular way.For some, this might be limited to reinforcing reflexes or strength.For others, it may be producing an element: fire, ice, or something else.
A wave of excitement rippled through the hall.
— But this is not an absolute rule.Your body holds an innate understanding of mana.And it is that understanding which will manifest first when you awaken.
The tiny spark pulsed again, like a heartbeat.
— However, by studying the laws of this world, incantations, runes, ancient structures — you can learn to manipulate other forms of mana.To varying degrees.
With a sharp flick, the spark vanished.
— But be warned: mana does not break the laws of this world.You can move earth — not create it.You can call water — but it will disappear the moment you stop sustaining it.
Behind Naye, someone visibly deflated.
— Moreover, said Maître Oren, mana bears a major risk.To use it, you will have to form a core within you.This is the process of awakening.It will allow you to store mana… and to wield it.
A thick silence fell.
— If you ever drain that core completely… or strain it too violently…You will permanently lose the ability to use mana.
A cold shiver spread through the amphitheater.
A girl in the front row pressed a hand to her chest — checking that her imaginary core was still intact.
Maître Oren continued, emotionless:
— Likewise, mana can do much… including harm.Remember — power never justifies anything.Only its use speaks for the one who wields it.
His words lingered in the air.
Naye felt strange.
He did not yet know what he would become.But something in this lecture had resonated — deeply.
Instinctively.
As if an invisible string had been plucked somewhere inside his chest.
Beside him, Vaelir was asleep again, face buried in his arms.
— He heard none of that, thought Naye, half amused, half fascinated.
Then the professor snapped his book closed.
— Very well. Let's summarize.
You two — the pair in the middle.
Naye nearly fell off his chair.
— Us?!
— Yes, you, repeated the professor, eyebrow raised.
Vaelir straightened up slowly, hair disheveled from his micro-nap.
— Well… at least we'll die with flair, he muttered.
He stood up gracefully.
Naye, much less gracefully.
Yet without the slightest shame — as if totally unaware that hundreds of eyes were now fixed on him.
Climbing the steps, he tripped on the second one, recovered with an improbable movement… then continued walking, as if it were completely natural.
Vaelir gave him a baffled, amused look.
— You're really not afraid of anything, are you?
— Why would I be?
— Fair question.
They reached the platform. Vaelir gave a small, polite bow — not too theatrical, just enough to make two students laugh in the front row.
Then he spoke, voice calm:
— Mana is…
He pretended to think deeply.
— …something you shouldn't handle without thinking.I think.
Soft laughter rippled.
Maître Oren pinched his lips.
— Not entirely untrue.But not an answer.
He turned to Naye.
— Your turn.
Naye inhaled deeply.
He glanced at the class.
Then, with a seriousness almost too large for his small face, he said:
— Mana… is like a tension in the air.A force waiting for someone to give it direction.If you listen long enough… you can tell it where to go.
The room froze for a second.
Several students exchanged surprised looks.
Vaelir slowly blinked — impressed despite himself.
Maître Oren raised a finger to his temple.
— It is… poetic.Not entirely false, either.
He closed his journal.
— You may return to your seats.It was not brilliant, but it was sincere.And sincerity is a beginning.
They descended the steps.
Vaelir dropped back into his seat at once.
— You said that spontaneously? he asked, head resting on his arm.
— Yes. It was true, wasn't it?
— Hm. Maybe not stupid… but very strange.
He closed his eyes.
— Wake me when we do something practical.
— But it was interesting! protested Naye.
Vaelir opened one lazy eye.
— What is truly interesting… does not begin in a lecture hall.
Then he fell asleep again — leaving Naye perplexed, thoughtful.