As the first golden rays of sunlight slid over the snowy mountains, the sound of clicking hooves echoed through the valley—punctuated by Cale's occasional grunt of discomfort.
He shifted in his saddle, trying to find any patch of muscle that didn't ache. They had been riding since long before dawn, and even muscles he didn't know he had were screaming.
He glanced at Ingrid. She rode upright and relaxed, not a trace of discomfort on her face.
"What are you looking at?" she asked, without even turning her head.
"Nothing," Cale muttered.
She chuckled softly and finally shot him a sideways look. "Not used to riding horses?"
"No. I barely ever left my village."
"Where are you from?" she asked.
"Dunfara."
Her eyes widened just a little. "Ah… the banished village," she murmured.
"The what?" Cale frowned.
"Oh—uh—nothing." She cleared her throat. "A long time ago, there was… an incident. A village was banished from the University of Elementology."
"Of what?" he asked.
"Elementology," she repeated. "The study of the elements and how to manipulate, shape, and command them."
Cale let that sink in, snow crunching beneath the horses' hooves.
"Why were you banished from your village?" Ingrid asked quietly.
Cale swallowed. "I got in a fight… and suddenly there was fire everywhere. I can't really remember what happened. But they sent me away."
"Let's pick up the pace," she says.
"Speed up?" Cale protests, letting out a pained groan.
Ingrid laughs and shoots him a grin over her shoulder. "Yes — speed up," she declares, already pulling ahead of him.
After a long day of riding, they finally round a broad bend in the road… and Cale's jaw nearly hits the ground.
The university rises before them like a strange marriage between castle and cathedral. Tall grey walls loom over the landscape, their stone faces carved with ancient patterns. Massive towers stretch upward, each crowned with delicate, almost holy ornamentation. Sunlight glints off stained-glass windows, casting shards of color over the water below.
And that water surrounds everything — a wide moat circling the entire structure, making the university look as though it floats, untouched by the world around it.
As they approach the enormous wooden gate, Cale's eyes widen. The surface is carved with intricate symbols — swirling lines, jagged marks, and curling patterns that he can only guess represent the four elements.
Two guards step forward. They hardly spare Ingrid a glance, but their eyes lock sharply onto Cale.
"He's with me," Ingrid says.
The change is instant. The guards step aside without another word.
They pass through into a vast courtyard, made almost ghostly by the heavy snowfall. Not a single student in sight — only white drifts piling on benches and stone paths.
"You're a bit late for the start of the school week," Ingrid says. "But I trust you'll get by."
Cale is left standing in the snow for a moment, unsure what to say. "I… I can't afford this. I'm not noble like the rest—"
"I'll make sure something covers the cost," she cuts in, already waving over a servant. "Just don't disappoint me."
And with that, she turns and leaves him behind.
The servant — a girl, tall but thin enough that some might call her underfed — lowers her head when she meets Cale's eyes. Without a word, she gestures for him to follow. Her pace is shockingly fast, leading him through a maze of narrow halls and steep staircases. Cale's tired muscles burn trying to keep up.
"Can we slow down… please?" he finally manages.
The girl stiffens, as if waiting for a command. But when she registers the tone — not entitled, not sharp, just tired — her shoulders loosen. She turns, frowning in surprise.
"Did I… say something wrong?" Cale asks, confused.
"You're not a noble, are you?" she asks. Her voice suddenly lacks its earlier shyness.
"No," he answers.
She exhales in pure relief. "Sorry. Yes, of course we can slow down."
They continue at a gentler pace.
"What's your name?" Cale asks, now that she seems less afraid to speak.
"I'm Chloé," she says quietly. "I'm not supposed to talk with the guests."
"Guests?" he repeats. "Aren't we just students?"
"No. Students are from noble families. They're anything but 'normal' students." She mutters under her breath, "Arrogant pricks."
Cale can't help but chuckle. "I'm Cale, by the way."
"How did you even get in here if you're not noble?" Chloé asks.
Cale just shrugs — it's the same question he's been asking himself all day.
They stop at a small wooden door. Chloé pushes it open.
"This is your room for the school year," she says. "It isn't much… but it's something." She actually looks apologetic, even though none of this is her fault.
"I'll be back in a minute with some proper clothes. Something to make you look a little more… noble." She pauses at the doorway, finally cracking a small smile.
"Oh — and take a bath. You smell."
Cale watches Chloé disappear down the corridor, leaving him alone in the small room. He closes the door behind him and lets out a long breath, finally able to relax for the first time since dawn. The room is simple: a narrow bed pushed against the wall, a wooden chest at its foot, a tiny window half-frozen over with snow, and a round copper bathtub already filled with steaming water. Someone must have prepared it while they were on their way.
Cale lowers himself into the bath with a groan that echoes off the stone walls. The hot water stings at first, but then the heat melts into his aching muscles, pulling the exhaustion right out of him. He sinks deeper, letting his head rest against the rim, staring up at the cracked ceiling.
Elementology.
The word keeps circling in his mind like an echo.
A university. A noble academy. A banished village. Fire bursting from his hands.
None of it feels real.
He hears footsteps outside and sits up quickly, splashing water over the edge. Chloé enters without waiting for permission, carrying a neatly folded stack of clothes. She sets them on the chest, then hesitates when she sees him trying to shrink into the tub.
"Relax," she says with a smirk. "I've seen worse." She turns around politely anyway.
"These should fit you. They're old uniforms, but better than arriving at your first lesson in… whatever you were wearing."
"I didn't exactly plan this," Cale mutters.
"I can tell," she laughs softly. Then her tone grows more serious. "Tomorrow, you'll be assigned a mentor. Someone who'll teach you the basics of your element."
Cale swallows. "And if I fail?"
Chloé pauses at the door. "Then they'll send you back."
She doesn't say where back means. She doesn't need to.
Once she leaves, Cale dries off and dresses. The new clothes are simple but clean: a dark blue tunic, sturdy trousers, and a cloak with the university's emblem — a circle divided into four swirling elements. He runs his fingers over it, feeling strangely proud and terrified at the same time.
A bell rings somewhere deep within the building, echoing through every stone corridor. Cale steps out into the hallway, unsure where to go, but the sound guides him like a beacon.
Outside, the courtyard is no longer empty. Snow-covered pathways fill with students in vibrant robes, laughing, chatting, complaining. All nobles. All confident.
Cale pulls his cloak tighter and steps forward anyway.
Whatever waited for him inside these walls — he would face it.
Because he finally understood one thing:
There was no going back now.