The students filtered out of the building, and headed toward the academy grounds and eventually the first-year dorms.
Alaric, who was conveniently at the back, stepped into the sun. It was warm and gentle, unchanged since they entered. Time-bending spells, clearly. Probably hours inside, barely minutes outside. No one questioned it.
The group walked past the massive, arena-like structure. Towering spires loomed ahead, their clean edges and opulent design screaming wealth and precision.
Alaric scanned it all with idle interest. He hadn't yet decided how he felt about being here, only that it was necessary.
As Alaric was taking in the surroundings, he sensed someone approaching. Turning slightly, he saw Triston Montclair and Lyana Nognes closing the distance between them.
"Can I help you with something?" Alaric asked.
"Luther Kingsley?" Triston asked politely.
Alaric gave a nod, slowing down. "That's me."
"I'm Triston," he said, with a radiant smile. "And this is Lyana. We watched your match."
"Well," Lyana added. "I watched it. He just followed when I wouldn't stop talking about you."
Alaric blinked, he was caught slightly off guard. "That so?"
She smiled again. Triston chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, she has a thing for underdogs. Not that you looked like one out there."
Alaric gave a modest shrug, his posture easy. "Just did what I had to."
"Still," Lyana said, her voice like silk. "You didn't just pass. You performed. That's rare."
For a moment, Alaric felt at ease. They weren't what he expected. Polite, curious. Even… friendly?
So he returned the courtesy, just a little. "Appreciate that. Didn't think I'd draw attention on day one."
"Hard not to notice talent," Triston replied. "And you carry yourself like someone who knows what he's doing. Doesn't come from just training, does it?"
Alaric almost smiled. "Maybe I've been through worse things than a test."
They shared a small laugh.
But the way Lyana kept sizing him up like a carcass, her eyes moving, her mouth twitching and even the way she spoke at times.
Alaric saw it all.
It was those moments when curiosity turned into calculation.
He knew that look. The internal question: How do I use this person?
They were deciding whether to make him a friend, a tool, or a problem.
Most people never saw themselves do it. Alaric had trained himself to see it in everyone.
And Lyana? She ticked every box that said: bad news dressed in grace in seconds..
The warmth drained from his face.
Triston didn't notice anything. "Anyway, I figured it's good to meet people early. You know, friendly faces in the crowd, hehe"
Alaric's tone cooled. "Friendly faces can turn quick."
Triston blinked. "Uh… sure, I guess."
Lyana tilted her head slightly, her smile still holding.
Alaric caught that, too.
"Well," she said, "we won't keep you. I'm sure you've got a lot on your mind."
"Always," Alaric said, stepping past them. "But thanks for the gesture."
Triston frowned, confused by the sudden shift.
They watched him walk off.
Triston finally said, "What was that about?"
Lyana shrugged, "who knows?"
Back at Alaric's end,
He saw Triston and Lyana turning and walking away, blending back into the flow of students.
Alaric watched them go, his lips curling slightly into a sardonic smile. 'Ughh whatever.'
He had seen the same rehearsed smiles, the same calculating eyes, time and time again. Nobles like them saw others as tools, stepping stones in their own ambitions. He had no intention of playing politics with a bunch of kids
It wasn't long before the group reached the first year dormitories. The students were then separated by gender, each group led toward their respective buildings.
The male dormitory stood behind a tall gate, surrounded by well-manicured hedges and high fences. A broad stone path led to the entrance, where the full scale of the building came into view. Grand, stately, just like everything else here. Same opulence, different packaging.
Inside, they were greeted by a lavish common room. Plush couches, polished tables, and cushioned chairs were arranged with intent. Two sweeping staircases curved upward at the far end, and twin chandeliers spilled warm light across the room. Everything was designed to impress, to comfort, to remind them of the prestige they now belonged to.
The group came to a stop as an attendant stepped forward.
"This is where our task ends," the man said crisply. "The staircases will take you to your rooms. Your belongings will be brought up shortly after you make your selection. As for uniforms and academic briefings, you'll receive those tomorrow."
He gestured, and a few other staff moved through the group, handing out small books. The covers read: Eldrynn Academy: Rules and Regulations.
"These contain the official guidelines," the man continued. "Everything you should and shouldn't do, along with the punishment for pretending you didn't read them."
He waited, clearly enjoying the pause.
"Do yourselves a favor and read page forty-two. That's where the dormitory rules start. Most importantly: no spellcasting inside the dorms. None. If you try it, you will be caught. Best case? A one month suspension from all academic activity. Worst case? You're packing your bags before sundown."
He offered a tight smile. "With that said, enjoy your day."
The crowd scattered almost immediately, some students already laughing, others rushing to claim the best rooms. Alaric gave the space one more look, then wandered around too.
He climbed the staircase to the upper floors.
"Not bad," he thought. "I could get used to this."
The upper corridor opened into a massive circular hall that wrapped around the building like a coiled spine. Polished wood and stone lined the walls, quiet and elegant. Each floor housed rows of rooms with heavy, dark wooden doors. The higher he climbed, the fancier it got. By the time he reached the fifth and final floor, the doors were larger, the crests more ornate, and the silence a little more expensive.
These top-floor rooms came with extras; training chambers, private studies, personal luxuries meant to flatter the ambitious.
"Yeah… definitely could get used to this."
Suspended from the ceiling was a magnificent chandelier, its crystal arms casting soft light that reached from the top floor to the ground below. The warm glow danced along the walls, tying the spiral structure together with elegance and quiet grandeur.
From any level, students could look up or down to admire its craftsmanship, another reminder that at Eldrynn, even the light was designed to impress.
Alaric's eyes lingered on it, an amused smile touching his lips.
"These rooms… I suppose the competition's already begun."
From Luther's memories, it was clear: Eldrynn thrived on hierarchy. Status wasn't handed out… it was fought for. Even the dorms reflected that. Better rooms, better perks, better chances.
In short, they encouraged bullying.
"Well, whatever," he muttered with a shrug. "I'll just take one of the top rooms and see who comes knocking."
With that, he made his way to the fifth floor, selecting one of the five premium rooms without hesitation.
Inside, the space lived up to its promise. A small living area greeted him, plush couches, a coffee table, and even a modest library. Beyond that, three separate rooms: a bedroom steeped in comfort, a marble-trimmed bathroom, and a compact training chamber. Tasteful, refined, and quiet. Just the way he liked it.
'Not bad.'
But what caught his attention more was the practice room.
As he stepped inside, the air shifted. The faint hum of Ether filled the space. It was simple: wood floors, a meditation mat, and a table in the corner. Nothing flashy.
Alaric shut the door behind him and sat cross legged on the mat, letting the silence settle. The stillness felt good. Here, there was no noise, no pretense. Just him and his Ether.
He exhaled slowly, turning inward.
His core pulsed quietly within, copper green, steady. The swirling Ether inside was active but restrained, far from full capacity. He hadn't had time to properly focus since arriving, but now, surrounded by silence, he could finally feel his tension ease.
Delicate channels threaded through his body like living circuitry, connecting core to flesh. These channels were his life as an Etherist, they were called Ether channels or circuits depending on who's asking.
Pulling in power, feeding it back. Strength depended on purity, control, and, most of all, patience.
His own core? It was average by most standards. But power didn't just come from potential, it came from pushing limits afterall.
He focused on drawing in the ambient Ether, letting it slip through his channels and pool in his core. Every bit added weight, condensed his strength. Progress here was slow, but meaningful.
At 52% condensation, he could only absorb so much before his core would start to resist. Still, every breath brought growth.
'Back in my original life, my core was at 99% condensation… a bonafide S-grade core.
Damn, what a shame. Now I'm stuck with this…,'
He was beginning to fall into the rhythm when—
Knock. Knock.
The sharp sound broke the trance.
Alaric's eyes opened, the calm giving
way to mild irritation. He stood, brushing himself off.
"Well, I suppose it's about time."
One last glance at the quiet room. Then he turned and walked to the door.