At a distance, a tall building overlooking a vast campus came into view.
It was the one and only Hermandry School of Truth and Thought—one of the first institutions to allow both women and men to study magic, and one that championed the rise of female mages.
The sweet scent of spring flowers drifted through the air.
A light, cool breeze passed by. The warmth of the day was a welcome relief after the long, bitter winter.
Intricately patterned buildings stood proudly among trees blossoming in full bloom—though the trees seemed just a little too still, as if watching.
Withney, selected through the Gifted Scholarship Program, stepped down from the public carriage. Her brown eyes widened in awe as she took in the sight of the enormous campus.
"I can't believe I made it to Hermandry. I'm still in disbelief, even after arriving here..."
She spoke softly to herself. Her golden hair caught the sunlight, her brilliant brown eyes filled with determination and the touch of baby fat on her cheeks made her look even younger than fifteen.
This was her first time so far from home. It was scary—no denying it. And not just because of the distance.
Her father had protested fiercely, but her mother had somehow persuaded him. Before she left, he'd given her a barrage of warnings and demanded she contact him the moment she arrived.
"Honestly, Father, you worry too much. I'll be fine," she thought, smiling wryly.
Her father was Maxwell Winterskern, head of the prestigious Winterskern Traders Union—one of the three largest merchant guilds in the Evernight Empire. He had packed her backpack—an enchanted, endless one gifted by her elder brother—with magical supplies and more contact scrolls than she'd ever need.
Her hands clenched tightly around the bag's straps. Her knuckles were pale with excitement.
"I'm really here. This is it."
She was determined to make her mark—at the academy, and in the world.
Still lost in her thoughts, she walked straight into the iron gate—slamming into it face-first.
She stumbled back, rubbing her chin with a wince.
"Such a great start to my school year... Hopefully nobody saw that. If someone did, I'll never live it down."
A stifled laugh echoed behind her.
Withney froze, dread pricking the back of her neck.
She turned around, already preparing her apology—only to see a familiar figure: brunette hair, crimson eyes, and a mischievous smile.
Maylyn. Her best friend.
"What are you doing here?!" Withney gasped, completely dumbfounded.
"Surprise, you airhead," Maylyn grinned.
Withney blinked, flustered. Maylyn just snickered.
"I got into the Magical Studies Department. I kept it a secret to surprise you. You should've seen your face—you were about to drop to your knees and beg whoever saw you for mercy!"
Both girls came from noble houses. Since childhood, they were trained in proper etiquette and how to maintain their image.
And Withney? She was terrified of being labeled an airhead.
She puffed her cheeks in playful frustration.
"You meanie! I thought I was doomed—'the girl who couldn't even open a gate properly.' I can already imagine the gossip..."
Maylyn burst into another fit of laughter.
"Wouldn't be wrong! Anyway, let's go. And try walking properly this time, you klutz."
She pulled open the gate, grabbed Withney's hand, and led her inside.
It was still scary, being this far from home.
But now? She wasn't alone.
Withney suddenly understood—her parents must've known Maylyn would be here. That was probably why her mother had won the argument with her father.
As they walked together, the two chatted excitedly about their journeys and everything they had seen. Soon, they reached a large brown building. Several windows lined its walls, and above the entrance, a wooden sign read:
Auditorium – 1st Year
It was time for orientation.
Dozens of students were gathered already—boys and girls from all walks of life.
The two girls made their way inside and took seats in the middle of the third row.
At Hermandry, there were several departments, but only three focused on magic:
The Magical Studies Department, which Maylyn had joined, was dedicated to understanding magic's history and inner workings—its origins, secrets, and truths.
The Magical Tools Department trained students in crafting enchanted artifacts—creations like floating carriages, enchanted lanterns, and magic-fueled airships.
And then there was the Practical Magic Department, where Withney had been accepted. This was where real mages were forged. Combat training, spell invention, and magical theory came together to prepare students for the world.
In truth, if one wanted to be a mage, Practical Magic was the path.
Maylyn was a rare exception—most who didn't join it either lacked magical prowess or had other callings.
As the auditorium filled, the girls gossiped excitedly—until the lights dimmed.
A spotlight fell on the center of the stage.
An older woman stepped into view, her presence commanding attention. She looked to be in her 40s, wore gold-trimmed spectacles, and carried an unmistakable aura of authority.
"I welcome you to Hermandry School of Truth and Thought.
I am your dean, Sxailar Mercury. You may call me Dean Mercury."
Her voice rang clearly across the entire hall, as though amplified by magic.
"From today, you are all students of Hermandry. I hope to see you shine and grow into proud representatives of this institution—and to see each of your faces again at graduation.
Begin your studies immediately. This school offers the finest resources, but it is your effort that will determine your future."
There was a slight edge to her words—one that many overlooked, but which carried the weight of something... unspoken.
After a few more words and instructions, Dean Mercury exited.
The teachers began introducing themselves one by one.
Withney and Maylyn sat stunned, eyes wide in admiration.
"Did you see her? That was Madam Mercury—the first female archmage in three generations!" Withney whispered.
"Of course I did! She's been my hero since I was seven! She became an archmage at 36—that's insane!"
The girls fangirled quietly until orientation ended.
Students were instructed to collect their identity cards from their respective departments and head to their dormitories. Classes would begin in one week.
The first week was for exploration—of the campus, the town, and each other.
Withney stepped out of the auditorium with Maylyn beside her, the sun still high above the stone towers of Hermandry.
This is real, she thought, I'm finally here. I'm going to become a real mage.
Far away, in a forgotten wing of the academy, an old building lay silent.
......
Through a stained window, shafts of light spilled across a dusty table. An old quill, a gemstone necklace, and a piece of parchment lay untouched—its surface marked with the drawing of a towering castle, shrouded in what looked like spheres of glowing light.
In the shadowed corner, a cloaked figure with a dark veil and starlight woven dress stood silently.
Only their eyes—sharp and solemn—could be seen.
A whisper passed through the air, though no one heard it:
"As it began..."
Back in the busy halls, Withney and Maylyn laughed as they walked to collect their identity cards.
Unaware of the eyes that watched from the dark.