The atmosphere at the Academy had changed.
Ever since the first Awakenings had begun, a tension lingered in the halls—an impatience, a yearning to become next. The initiation classes were no longer purely theoretical; some students were now invited to participate in demonstrations, watched with curiosity tinged with admiration—sometimes envy.
That day, Eleanor was heading to her first Magical Creatures Studies class. It had been delayed because the professor was absent, said to be on a mission somewhere in the East.
He entered. A man in his prime with the discipline of old soldiers. One glance at his impeccably pressed uniform and short-cut hair was enough to know—there would be no joking around here.
The moment he stepped into the room, silence settled. As if his mere presence was enough to command it. He wrote on the board.
"My name is Master Arven. I will be your professor for Magical Creature Studies," he said in a strong voice.
Without waiting for a response, he continued.
"For most of you, magical creatures only exist in books and the tales told by soldiers. But while the cities are well defended against their attacks, those of you from smaller villages should know they are not just stories."
Several students nodded in agreement.
While writing on the board, he added:
"Those of you who have joined the Exploration Section will face them soon enough, and my role is to prepare you as best as possible for that encounter.
We categorize magical creatures based on several criteria, but the most important is the danger they represent."
On the board, he had listed:
F — Mana pests — Danger: Low, a non-mage can defeat themE — Minor creatures — Danger if unpreparedD — Local Threat — Moderate danger, militia or experienced adventurersC — Regional Threat — High danger, experienced mage requiredB — National Threat — Very high danger, military intervention requiredA — Cataclysm — Continental threat, call on temples and other nationsS — Divine Descent — Pray your god will come help you
He pointed at the board and resumed.
"Most of you will face monsters—because that's the common term—of class C or B at best by the end of your studies and during your future lives.
Don't be scared just yet; I intend to teach you everything necessary to survive such encounters."
With that, Master Arven gestured toward the training grounds adjacent to the classroom.
Once all the students had gathered, he continued the lesson.
"To truly understand, nothing beats practice. And we are fortunate to have so many already Awakened mages among us. Who would like to volunteer to start?"
As he said this, he stretched out his arm and opened a door—leading somewhere distant, impossible to tell where. From it emerged a twisted humanoid creature. It looked like something between a goblin and a sick dog. Its grayish-green skin was translucent in places, revealing bones beneath.
Its arms were too short, ending in two long, yellowish claws. Its back was hunched, and its mouth far too wide, stretching all the way to its ears. In its eyes flickered the unmistakable madness of monsters.
A Grinveil, a subspecies of goblin found occasionally in the kingdom's forests. Though weak, it could easily prove deadly to the unprepared.
Master Arven resumed, a satisfied smile on his face.
"So, who is willing to rid us of this horror? Don't worry—I won't let it harm you."
His clear eyes swept across the students before settling on Eleanor. It seemed he wanted to test the one rumored to be a prodigy.
Eleanor spoke.
"I'll do it."
Her voice was steady, but inside, she was terrified. This would be her first real fight, one with consequences. She could get hurt.
"Very well," said Master Arven. "But I cannot risk the princess of the kingdom being injured in my class. Anyone willing to assist her?"
The answer came without delay.
"I'll help," said Lysandre.
Lysandre was an excellent student at the Academy. He had awakened his core early and was the best swordsman among the first-years. Yet, it was hard for him to shine when Eleanor was always seen as the prodigy.
"Good," said Master Arven. "Let me remind you: you must limit your use of mana to strengthening your bodies. No direct spells for now. The Grinveil is fast, but its attacks are simple, and it isn't intelligent. One of you draws its attention and blocks, while the other finishes it."
The Grinveil growled, as if its throat was filled with shattered glass.
It advanced slowly, hunched, hands dragging on the ground, claws scraping the dirt. Its trembling, oversized eyes darted from Eleanor to Lysandre—before returning to Eleanor, drawn by something only she seemed to possess.
A shiver ran through her. She channeled mana through her body, enhancing her physical abilities and reflexes.
"He's chosen you," murmured Lysandre. "Don't get too close. Draw him in. I'll finish it."
She nodded. Her hands were barely trembling.
The Grinveil let out a sharp screech. Then it lunged.
Eleanor stepped back abruptly. Too late. The creature did not attack like an animal—but like something twitchy, spasmodic. Its claw grazed Eleanor's forearm. Not deep enough to cause real harm—just a thin red line. But enough to make the watching students flinch behind the barrier.
She blocked the next strike and, reinforcing her legs, pushed the monster back—giving Lysandre his opening.
No theatrical flourish, no acrobatics. A simple, precise motion: a step, a feint, then the blade slipping between two ribs.
The Grinveil froze. Its mouth stayed open, locked in its impossible grin. Then the body collapsed.
Eleanor stared at the creature on the ground. Her breathing was fast. No pride, no exhilaration. Just… shock.
Lysandre wiped his blade, without triumph.
"Well done," he said simply. "You drew it like a magnet."
She didn't know how to respond.
That's when a figure approached.
Quiet. Calm.
A young girl, brown braids, gentle but focused eyes.
Without a word, she placed her hand above Eleanor's arm—where she had been scratched.
A soft glow emerged, and the wound closed by itself.
Eleanor looked at her, slightly surprised.
"Thank you… Mira, right?"
She nodded, smiling only faintly.
"I've awakened as a healer, so it's not easy for me to use my mana otherwise."
Eleanor remained silent.
Around them, the students were chattering, murmuring, reacting.
Master Arven seemed satisfied.
"And that concludes our first lesson. Remember this: no matter your level, if you're not attentive—even a creature like that could be your downfall."