Axnem walked through the massive oak doors of the academy's central hall, his footsteps echoing against the stone floors. The building was a monument to knowledge—vast, intricate, and imposing. Golden runes lined the walls, tracing intricate patterns that only the most scholarly could decipher. The towering columns that stretched into the high ceiling seemed to touch the very sky, their surfaces engraved with the names of legendary scholars and mages from centuries past.
The air smelled of dust and old books, mixed with the faint, sharp tang of magical energy that hummed in the air. Magic was not just an art here; it was woven into the fabric of the academy itself. From the enchanted windows that shimmered with a faint light to the floating lights that guided students through the halls, everything in the academy was a reflection of the most sophisticated magic the world had to offer.
Axnem's gaze swept over the bustling courtyard in front of the grand hall. Students moved in all directions, heading toward their classrooms, some in animated discussions, others simply lost in thought. The academy was an island of intellectual pursuit, where those with genuine magical talent came to shape the future of the world. The academy's influence stretched across kingdoms, empires, and secretive organizations. It was the heart of knowledge, and all who sought power knew that gaining favor here meant securing their place in history.
Axnem, however, was well beyond the fascination that these first-years felt. For him, the academy was not a place of discovery—it was a reminder of the mistakes he had made in the future—the failures, the betrayals, and the knowledge he wished he could erase.
The academy's bell rang—a deep, resonant sound that shook the dust from the air and announced the start of a new day. He adjusted his uniform, carefully tracing the Black family pin on his collar before stepping out into the hall.
As he made his way down the corridor, the world outside seemed frozen in time—the past, the present, and the future all locked in a fragile balance that only he seemed to recognize. In the distance, students clustered around the grand stairwell, eagerly discussing lectures and magical projects, their laughter and chatter echoing down the walls.
And then, a voice, familiar yet unfamiliar, called out to him.
"Axnem! Over here!"
He turned, and there stood Kai Darnel, one of his old classmates, his face a picture of eager excitement. Kai had been a friendly presence back in his previous life, but now, they were once more on equal footing—fellow students, both eager to learn, to grow, and to find their place in a world that Axnem knew was far more fragile than anyone could imagine.
"Did you study the geometrical runes for Theory of Magic Foundations?" Kai asked, his wide grin betraying a youthful enthusiasm that Axnem hadn't seen in ages.
Axnem nodded, though the truth was he already knew the theory by heart. He'd written and rewritten it a hundred times in his future life. Magic wasn't just about casting spells—it was about understanding the mathematical underpinnings that governed it. He was one of the few students who had realized that magic was nothing more than the language of the universe.
"Yeah," Axnem said, keeping the response neutral. "Just brushing up on the details. Can't be too prepared."
Kai laughed, clapping him on the back. "You're going to ace this, I'm sure of it. But still, Calder Thorn doesn't accept half-baked answers."
Professor Calder Thorn—the academy's hardest professor to please, especially when it came to Magical Foundations. The man had a reputation for throwing his students into the deepest intellectual battles. He would demand more than they were capable of, just to see who could truly rise to the challenge.
Axnem's expression shifted ever so slightly. "I'm sure I'll manage."
They made their way to class, and as they entered the lecture hall, the professor was already standing at the front, a tall figure draped in flowing robes that seemed to absorb light.
"Welcome to Magical Foundations," Professor Thorn said, his voice rich with authority. "This is a class about the very structure of magic itself. You may know spells and incantations, but do you understand the equations and laws that underpin them? That is the true art of magic. Let us begin."
Axnem's mind immediately began to sift through the information, the patterns already forming in his head. But he kept his face blank, not wanting to appear too prepared in front of his peers. Instead, he observed them—some eager, some anxious. They had no idea what was about to come.
As the class began, Axnem could see the difference between the students here and those from the future. They were bright, certainly, but far from realizing the true potential of magic. For them, it was still a mystery—a force to wield, but not one to truly understand.