VEL'KORA ACADEMY

The sky above Vel'kora Academy shimmered with wisps of enchanted mist, reflecting the towering crystalline spires that jutted toward the heavens. Ilony Devori walked through the grand archway with slow, measured steps, her long black hair flowing behind her like a dark ribbon against the ivory stone paths. A few students glanced her way, whispering. As usual. Not because she was beautiful—though she was—but because she was different. The youngest daughter of the Devori lineage should have been like her sisters, with their elegant white locks and effortlessly charming grace. But she wasn't. She didn’t care. Ilony adjusted the collar of her academy uniform, a crisp navy coat with gold embroidery, the emblem of the Vel'kora Academy glinting subtly on her chest. The first day was nothing special. Just some introductions and the ever-dreaded opening ceremony. Her emerald eyes flicked across the crowd, noting the mix of students—humans, elves with their delicate ears, fairies glowing faintly in the early morning light. But then, something caught her attention. Or rather, someone. A boy. He stood apart, yet not in an obvious way. His black hair was neatly combed, his uniform immaculately buttoned to the throat. A pair of glasses rested on his nose, his silver eyes barely visible behind the lenses. By all appearances, he was utterly normal. Forgettable, even. And yet, Ilony felt it. A presence so thick it nearly pressed against her skin. It wasn’t the suffocating heat of a fire mage or the buzzing intensity of a storm caster. No, this was something else. A quiet abyss, hidden beneath a thin layer of nothingness. Her fingers twitched at her side. The other students ignored him, some even sneering as they walked past. “Ugh, why is he here?” “What a joke.” “I thought this year’s intake was supposed to be prestigious.” Their words were meant to cut, but the boy acted as if he didn’t hear a thing. He walked with a controlled pace, his expression neutral, as though nothing around him was worth acknowledging. Interesting. Ilony turned away. Not her business. She wasn’t here to solve mysteries. She was here to survive the next few years and return home, hopefully with enough accolades that her father would stop comparing her to her sisters. The grand bell chimed, signaling the start of the entrance ceremony. With a quiet sigh, Ilony adjusted her gloves and stepped forward. Ilony made her way into the grand auditorium, the crowd of students parting in front of her like waves crashing against a cliff. The air was thick with the hum of excited chatter, but she was unbothered. Her mind already drifted to the upcoming lessons, the rigid structure of the academy’s curriculum, and how little they truly mattered. After the headmaster’s formal greeting, the students were introduced to their class options for the year. Each first-year student would be enrolled in a set of four foundational courses: Magic Class, Potion Class, Magic Cultivation Class, and an Optional Swordsmanship Mage Class. The Magic Class would be the primary focus for most students, designed for those who aimed to master a single element of magic, allowing them to become mages of unparalleled control and precision over that one force. For Ilony, the choice was obvious—her ice magic was powerful, but it needed constant refinement, and this was where she would excel. Potion Class was a different path altogether, one that involved the delicate art of brewing, mixing, and creating elixirs that could heal, enhance, or even hinder. It wasn’t something Ilony found appealing, but there were always students eager to master it. The Magic Cultivation Class was for those who sought to hone their own magical potential, improving their mana reserves and mental focus to unlock deeper levels of magic. It was an exhausting class, but for those who had an affinity for several elements, it was an important foundation. Lastly, there was the Optional Swordsmanship Mage Class, a unique offering for those who wanted to blend magic with the art of the sword. Students in this class would learn how to wield both sword and spell, a rare and difficult skill that only a handful ever mastered. It was a grueling course, not for the faint of heart, and often demanded years of dedication. Ilony’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of the swordsmanship class. She had no interest in weapons of any sort, preferring the precision of magic over the raw physicality of combat. But there were whispers among the upperclassmen about how certain students had risen in status after excelling in both the sword and magic. It was a difficult path, but not impossible. The instructor paused after the announcement, the room growing quiet. “Remember,” he said, “you may choose to take two classes, but it is not advisable. The workload will be intense, and mastering both paths can lead to burnout. It is recommended to focus on one, for it is the most practical route to succeed here at Vel'kora.” Ilony wasn’t one for doubt, and as far as she was concerned, she would focus on mastering her ice magic above all else. Still, her thoughts kept drifting back to the boy with the silver eyes. Why did he stand out so strongly? Why did she feel like there was more to him than met the eye? She shook her head. There was no point in dwelling on him. She needed to focus on her own future, not the mysteries of other students. The headmaster smiled, a sly glint in his eyes. “In the following days, you’ll be introduced to each of these courses. Choose wisely, for they will shape the path of your future here. Make sure to register for your classes soon after the introductory week ends.” As the ceremony finally came to a close, Ilony turned to leave with the other students, her mind made up. But just before she could step out of the grand hall, she saw the boy once more—standing in the back, as if waiting for something. Her gaze lingered for a moment longer, curiosity gnawing at the edge of her resolve. But with a deep breath, she tore her eyes away and walked out into the cold air, preparing for what was to come.