The halls of Velgrin Academy were alive with fresh energy—students bustling about in impeccably pressed uniforms, magical familiars flitting overhead like curious birds, and enchanted parchments drifting lazily between eager hands.
The air was crisp, carrying the unmistakable scent of new beginnings mixed with an undercurrent of tension and anticipation.
It was apparently the second week of the second semester, and though the excitement was palpable, there was also a quiet dread lingering beneath the surface—a reminder that the challenges ahead would not come easily.
Lucien walked steadily beside Caelum, his face calm and carefully neutral, betraying none of the thoughts swirling in his mind. His eyes casually swept over the banners newly hung along the hallways, adorned in the rich seasonal colors of the academy.
This place feels strange yet familiar, like a puzzle I'm meant to solve.
"Still weird seeing you up this early," Caelum said, a teasing lilt in his voice as he balanced his satchel on one shoulder and clutched a half-eaten pastry in the other. "You usually drag your feet like a corpse trying to wake up for the first period."
Lucien hesitated, searching for a reply that wouldn't raise suspicion or reveal too much.
So the old Lucien really was that obvious… great, just great.
He tilted his head slightly and met Caelum's gaze with a faint, controlled smile. "Guess I've turned over a new leaf."
"Oh? A whole new Lucien this semester? Should I be worried? Or is this some side effect from what happened yesterday?"
"Maybe," Lucien said dryly, his tone laced with just enough sarcasm. "Depends on how painful this class ends up being."
"That's fair," Caelum muttered, shaking his head with a grin. "Spell Gate Theory's a nightmare. And having Corven first thing in the morning? Might as well start drafting our wills now."
Lucien glanced sideways at him, curious. "You don't like his class?"
"Are you serious? You don't remember the chaos last semester? The incident?"
Lucien quickly averted his eyes, forcing himself to maintain a calm, poker face.
"O-Of course I do… er…"
Caelum's sharp amber eyes narrowed as if trying to read beneath Lucien's words, but before he could press further, a student brushed past him abruptly.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Caelum grunted, adjusting the strap of his satchel with a slight scowl. And then let out a small cry when he realized he dropped his pastry to the ground.
"My poptart! Noooo!"
However, Lucien rolled his eyes and didn't bother waiting around and Caelum, the ever-so reluctant friend decided to move on forward.
"Hey! Wait, don't leave me behind!"
They then rounded a wide corner beneath a soaring archway etched with softly glowing runes, stepping into a broader hallway where students poured toward one of the oldest and most revered lecture halls in the academy.
Inside, rows of polished dark wood seats rose in neat tiers, sweeping around a central platform adorned with intricate magical circles and embedded conduits that pulsed faintly with mana.
Tall, arched windows stretched along the side walls, pouring warm sunlight into the room and cutting through the otherwise cavernous space.
Caelum nudged Lucien toward a seat near the middle of the hall. "Let's sit here."
Lucien lowered himself quietly into the seat, resting his hands loosely in his lap while his gaze swept the room with measured interest. Murmurs and whispers filled the air, low but sharp—curious eyes flicked toward him, and he noticed a few students darting glances his way before quickly lowering their heads or hiding behind books.
The memory of yesterday's incident was still fresh in their minds probably.
"Don't mind them," Caelum whispered, leaning closer. "Half the school's just hunting for gossip. You were out cold for what, a few hours?"
"I didn't pass out," Lucien replied flatly.
"Everyone knows what happened—"
Before Caelum could finish, the large double doors at the front swung open without ceremony, silencing the room instantly.
Professor Corven entered, his robes sharp and precise, dark brown hair neatly combed, glasses gleaming faintly in the light, and the faint shadow of stubble lining his jaw. His presence alone demanded attention as he strode to the lectern at the center of the platform.
The hum of conversation dropped into a heavy silence.
"Welcome to Spell Gate Theory," Corven said in his characteristic cool monotone, his sharp eyes scanning the students. "Second semester began last week. That means all laziness will no longer be tolerated. And, it means no excuses, no leniency."
Caelum leaned over, voice low enough only for Lucien to hear. "He means you."
Lucien shot him a sideways glance, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm not sure he is."
"Shut up," Caelum muttered, rolling his eyes.
Corven raised a small oak wand, tracing a series of glowing sigils in the air that unfolded into intricate diagrams hovering above the platform.
"Last semester we focused on reviewing existing sigils and gates. This term, you will begin to put it all into practice."
Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly as he absorbed the flowing symbols and terminology—his mind quietly aligning these lessons with truths he once mastered, buried in his past life.
This… this might actually be fun.
Caelum slumped beside him with a groan. "And so begins our descent into magical hell."
Lucien's reply was soft but sharp, a small, confident smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I don't know about that. Seems quite fun to me."