Dawn's lavender glow seeped through the cell's narrow slits. I sat up, muscles protesting. Sergeant Malin and Corporal Estev waited in the doorway, their armor gleaming dully. Malin's gray eyes were warm but firm; Estev's gaze was vigilant, ready for any misstep.
"Renua," Malin said quietly. "Captain Vale insists we shadow you for thirty days. Regulations."
Estev added, "Every class, corridor, and chamber. No exceptions."
I slung my satchel over one shoulder. holo-board, spare tunic, ink-stained pen and sighed. Sierra's quiet prompt flickered in my mind: First lesson: Magic 101 in Lecture Hall A at 7:30.
"Could use another hour of sleep," I muttered, rubbing my eyes.
Malin offered a wry smile. "Tell that to the night watch."
We left the cell block, stepping through living-crystal corridors into a circular portal of glowing runes. In a shimmer, we emerged in the Academy courtyard. Marble platforms floated above cobalt currents, and Meridian sigils arched overhead. Students drifted around us, murmuring: foreign ward… planewalker… another world. I kept my head down.
A soft hum signaled the teleport gate behind us closing. Malin's expression tightened. "Keep your pace."
Dorm Wing C rose before us, a spiral tower of clear corridors. In Room 14, pale dawn light revealed a narrow bed and simple desk.
I dropped my bag and collapsed onto the mattress. Sierra's voice: Unpack essentials. Depart in ten minutes.
I changed into the crisp Academy uniform. White linen trimmed with silver, then splashed cold water on my face. Energy flickered, but exhaustion lingered.
Estev tapped his gauntlet. "Time."
By 7:10 we reached Lecture Hall A. The amphitheater's clear quartz benches rose in concentric circles around a central dais topped by a living orb of cobalt flame.
Malin and Estev took posts at the rear. Professor Linthos drifted onto the dais in indigo robes etched with silver runes. He paused, surveying the crowd.
"This hall expects precision," he began. Eyes swept the benches. "Are you new, Mercer? I don't recognize you."
I swallowed. "Foreign ward, sir."
Linthos nodded once, as if memorizing a specimen. He turned to the orb. "Magic demands discipline. Watch closely." With a graceful motion, he sketched a rune in the air. The orb rippled, then steadied.
He faced me. "A Spark is not spectacle, it is the embodiment of will shaped by Aethra. Now, demonstrate."
My heart thundered. I closed my eyes, recalling Sierra's tutorials: how in the simulation chamber she had guided each pulse, Core stable… harness Aethra… match your heartbeat. That practice had been cold logic; here, I felt the warmth of power.
I stepped onto the dais, each footfall echoing in my ears. A flicker of memory surged: in the simulation chamber, Sierra had overlaid a 3D grid across my visual field, guiding my focus on the Core's center, prompting me to stabilize the flow before igniting a practice spark. That sterile practice had drilled mechanics into me, now I felt power coursing with warmth.
Drawing a steady breath, I extended my hand. A mote of azure light ignited, pulsing in time with my blood. The orb above flickered in acknowledgment.
Silence fell.
"Hold," Linthos commanded.
My arm trembled, muscles quivering with the effort. Sierra's nano-calibration whispered in my mind: Inhale slowly… flow evenly… release tension. With a final breath, the light steadied.
"Impressive control," he said. "Now copy this." He traced a second rune. A slender Spark darted from the orb to his fingertip before blossoming into a circle of light.
"Replicate it."
Doubt flared, but Sierra's guidance, once clinical, now comforting, led me. I mirrored his gesture, and a second Spark leapt into existence.
Whispers rose around me.
Linthos inclined his head. "Excellent. Final exercise: bind your Spark into a ward."
He gestured to etched glyphs on the dais's surface. I pressed my palm onto the stone; the azure mote expanded into a flawless ring of flame, its edges flickering with precise control.
Silence reigned. Then Linthos allowed a small smile. "Well executed, Mercer."
From behind floated a low, stinging remark. "Beginners luck," Rex Korran sneered, his voice carrying equal parts envy and scorn as he passed, guards flanking him. His words cut deeper than any blade.
Linthos's gaze snapped to him. "Mr. Korran, your demonstration next week. Until then, curb your arrogance."
Rex's dark eyes blazed as he stalked away, robes billowing. His tone dripped disdain.
I descended the dais, legs weak but heart alight. Malin's nod and Estev's approving glance welcomed me back.
I sank into a bench, chest heaving. Fourteen years old, a foreign ward, yet in this hall, I had spoken in light.
As the hall emptied, Sierra's parting murmur floated: Lesson complete. Meridian Theory at nine.
With the echo of applause still ringing, I rose and slung my satchel over my shoulder. The narrow corridor beckoned, where the next trial awaited, mapping the invisible pathways of Aethra to my next class, Meridian Theory.
I gathered my satchel, pulse still racing. The corridor awaited, and with it, new lessons.