The bell that woke Asha echoed through the dormitory towers like a deep rolling thunder, its sound carrying through stone walls and wooden beams as if the entire academy itself had decided it was time to begin the day. For a moment she lay still beneath the blankets, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling while the memory of the previous days slowly returned to her — the Shadow Realm, the hidden town beneath the barrier, the academy she had been brought to, and the responsibility that now followed her whether she wanted it or not.

  Fee stretched comfortably along the wooden headboard of Asha’s bed, golden wings lifting lazily as the early sunlight poured through the tall dormitory window across the room.

  Humans start their mornings far too early, the Phoenix murmured inside her mind.

  Asha sighed.

  “You’re the one who wanted adventure.”

  Adventure does not require waking up at sunrise.

  Across the room, Kate was already awake. She stood beside her bed fastening the leather straps of her bracers with quick, practiced movements, her posture calm and focused in a way that made it obvious this routine was familiar to her. Unlike Asha, this world was not new to Kate. She had already lived and trained here for years

  “You should get up,” Kate said without looking up. “Training begins soon.”

  Asha buried her face back into the pillow.

  “I changed my mind.”

  Kate smiled faintly.

  “You don’t have that option anymore.”

  Before Asha could respond, the dormitory door opened and another girl stepped inside carrying a leather bag over her shoulder. She paused immediately when she noticed Kate standing by the window, and a small expression of surprise crossed her face.

  “Well,” she said slowly, “that explains the rumors.”

  Kate looked up.

  “Good morning, Sara.”

  The girl tossed her bag onto the third bed and crossed her arms as she studied Kate more carefully. She was older than both of them, probably around seventeen, with long copper-colored hair tied loosely behind her back and the confident posture of someone who had already spent years competing inside the academy.

  “So it’s true,” Sara said. “You’re back.”

  Kate shrugged slightly.

  “I never planned to leave forever.”

  Sara smirked.

  “You say that like you weren’t the academy’s golden student.”

  Asha blinked in confusion.

  Sara noticed and tilted her head toward Kate.

  “She reached Rank 3 before most adults” Sara explained casually smiling. “People tend to remember things like that.”

  Kate sighed quietly but didn’t argue.

  Sara’s attention shifted toward Asha.

  “And you must be the new one.”

  “Im Asha”

  “Sara,” the older girl said. “Rank 2.”

  As Sara walked across the room, Asha noticed movement beside her.

  A large silver wolf padded quietly along the stone floor, its body formed from soft mist and pale glowing light. Its eyes lifted toward Asha for a moment, watching her with calm intelligence before settling beside Sara’s bed.

  Sara sat down without noticing anything.

  Fee’s voice slipped gently into Asha’s thoughts.

  Her familiar.

  Kate noticed Asha staring and spoke quietly.

  “Try not to look too surprised,” she said softly.

  Sara glanced between them.

  “What?”

  Kate shook her head.

  “Nothing important.”

  Sara narrowed her eyes slightly, but after a moment she simply shrugged and leaned back against the wall.

  “First day for you two, then,” she said.

  “Just for her,” Kate corrected.

  Sara smiled faintly.

  “Even better.”

  .

  .

  .

  When the three of them stepped outside, the academy courtyard was already alive with activity. Students filled the wide stone training grounds between the tall towers, practicing magic and sparring under the watchful eyes of instructors who moved through the groups correcting posture, technique, and spell control.

  Magic flickered everywhere.

  Small bursts of fire danced between hands, wind curled around wooden training weapons, and shields of light shimmered briefly before fading. It was clear that the academy existed for one purpose: to prepare mages to fight.

  But that wasn’t what caught Asha’s attention first.

  It was the creatures.

  They were everywhere.

  A fox made of pale blue mist trotted beside a passing student. A glowing owl perched quietly on someone’s shoulder while its owner practiced shaping wind. A small serpent formed from golden sparks wrapped lazily around another student’s wrist like living jewelry.

  Familiars.

  Invisible companions walking calmly beside their mages.

  Asha slowed her steps slightly as she looked around, trying not to stare too openly at the creatures that no one else seemed to notice.

  Fee’s feathers shifted with quiet amusement.

  You see them all, don’t you?

  “Yes,” Asha murmured under her breath.

  Kate glanced sideways at her, speculating what asha see

  “You’ll get used to it,” she said quietly. “Almost all Rank 2 students form familiar bonds eventually.”

  Sara looked over her shoulder.

  “Get used to what?”

  Kate answered calmly.

  “The academy.”

  Sara snorted softly.

  “Fair enough.”

  They continued across the courtyard until they reached a massive stone board standing near the center of the training grounds. Names were carved across its surface beneath three large titles marking the ranking system used throughout the academy.

  Ember.

  .

  Gale.

  .

  Heartfire.

  .

  The first section was filled with dozens of names, students still learning the basics of magic and control. Rank 2 had fewer, though still enough to show how many had already advanced beyond the first stage.

  Rank 3, however, was much shorter.

  Near the top of the list was Kate’s name.

  Sara pointed at it with a small grin.

  “See what I mean?”

  Asha looked from the board back to Kate.

  “You’re famous here.”

  Kate sighed quietly.

  “I’d rather not be.”

  Sara laughed.

  .

  …

  The instructor’s whistle cut through the morning chatter, sharp and insistent. “All students, form lines! Morning training begins now!”

  Asha followed the others, heart pounding, sweat already prickling at her brow. The instructors didn’t wait for introductions or explanations; everything was direct, disciplined, precise.

  “Warm-up laps! Around the courtyard — two full circuits. Move!” barked the tallest instructor, her voice leaving no room for hesitation.

  Asha tried to match the other students’ pace. Her legs ached almost immediately, muscles untrained and stiff. Every stride felt heavier than it should, each breath burning in her chest. Students around her jogged smoothly, almost effortlessly. She stumbled once, catching herself on the edge of the stone wall.

  Fee stirred above her shoulder, embers flickering softly. Slow and steady. You’ll survive this. One step at a time.

  The courtyard was alive with motion. Students weaved through each other, some sprinting, others jogging at a measured pace. The air was thick with exertion and tension. Asha’s head spun slightly as her body struggled to obey.

  By the second lap, her lungs were screaming, sweat streaming into her eyes, but she forced herself to keep going. Her legs trembled, threatening to buckle beneath her. Every step felt like a test she wasn’t sure she could pass.

  “Good, now push-ups!” the instructor shouted without pause. “Form counts. Fifty!”

  Asha hit the ground, arms shaking violently as she tried to lower herself. Her muscles screamed at her to stop, but she forced herself up again and again. Nearby students completed their sets with almost casual efficiency, but she felt every trembling motion like a reminder of how unprepared she was.

  Next came core exercises — sit-ups, squats, and stretches designed to push endurance to its limit. Asha’s body ached in places she hadn’t even known could hurt. Sweat soaked her tunic, and her breathing was harsh and uneven.

  You can do this, Fee whispered. Every motion counts. Build the body first. Magic will come later.

  After a few more rounds of squats and stretches, the instructor clapped her hands sharply. “Enough! Stand. Take a brief water break. Then we move to weapon handling.”

  Asha staggered to the side, barely able to stand upright. Her limbs shook from exertion, and her chest heaved with every breath. She glanced at Kate, who looked calm and composed, hardly winded. Sara, meanwhile, stretched lazily, rolling her shoulders like this was nothing.

  Asha bent over slightly, gripping her knees, trying to slow her racing heart. I… I can do this, she whispered to herself, trying to steady the shaking in her body.

  Asha straightened with difficulty, gripping the wooden practice sword the instructors had handed out. Her arms felt like lead, her legs wobbled, but she lifted it anyway. Today, she realized, wasn’t about winning or impressing anyone. It was about enduring. Surviving the very first day.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  Asha collapsed onto a bench, muscles trembling, sweat soaking her tunic. Her chest heaved, lungs burning from every step, every push-up, every swing of the wooden practice sword.

  This is like i wanted to go in the army on earth at 14… she thought

  The other students were beginning to disperse, some moving toward the dining hall with effortless ease, others laughing quietly at minor stumbles.

  Sara plopped down beside her, still energetic, smirking as she leaned back on the bench. “You survived,” she said. “Barely, but you survived. Barely counts, right?”

  Asha let out a weak groan. “Barely feels like I just ran a marathon… while someone kept hitting me with a sword.”

  Fee flickered on her shoulder, feathers ruffling. Technically accurate, she muttered in Asha’s mind. But you survived. That’s what matters.

  The aroma of breakfast hit Asha like a wave — warm bread, steaming porridge, soft-boiled eggs, and thin slices of smoked meat. Her stomach growled audibly. Sara snorted.

  “Sounds like your stomach’s practicing magic too,” she said. “Summoning thunderous hunger spells, perhaps?”

  Asha glared playfully. “If it starts shooting fire, I swear it’s not my fault.”

  Kate, ever composed, slid into the bench beside them, her familiar perched silently on the table. She raised an eyebrow at Asha. “You two are ridiculous,” she said, picking at her food with serene precision. “Focus. Eat first. Survive second. Complaining comes much later.”

  Asha picked up a spoon, scooping a modest portion of porridge. She grimaced as the steam curled into her face. “This is… not soup, it’s… hot mush.”

  Sara snorted. “Hot mush? Welcome to academy cuisine, newbie. You’ll love the meatloaf tomorrow — or hate it. Can’t tell which until you try it.”

  Fee shifted, embers drifting lightly. Ignore them. Eat. You need energy. And yes, the meatloaf is probably a trap.

  Asha took a cautious bite, and to her surprise, it wasn’t terrible. Slightly sweet from the dried fruits sprinkled on top, the porridge warmed her chest. She followed it with a slice of buttered bread, and finally, a small bite of egg. Each bite helped her body recover slightly, easing the soreness and fatigue from the morning.

  “Feeling ready for magic yet?” Kate asked quietly, glancing at her.

  Asha waved a hand weakly, the motion sending a drop of porridge wobbling dangerously on her spoon. “If by ready you mean I won’t faint before touching a wand… then yes. I’m ready.”

  Sara laughed, pointing at her. “You’re going to faint anyway. Don’t fight it — just collapse dramatically. Academy style.”

  Asha rolled her eyes, letting out a small, exhausted chuckle. “Thanks for the confidence boost.”

  Fee brushed her warm feathers against Asha’s neck. Ignore them. Today’s about surviving and learning. We can worry about fainting theatrics later.

  By the time they finished breakfast, Asha’s breathing had steadied, her limbs no longer shaking as violently, and her stomach was full. She allowed herself a small grin. The first test of the day — morning training — had been survived. She might have been clumsy, exhausted, and slightly humiliated, but she had endured.

  “Alright,” Sara said, standing and stretching dramatically. “Time for magic class. If anyone tries to faint on me today, I’ll roll my eyes so hard they get stuck.”

  Kate rolled her eyes, muttering, “You two are impossible.”

  Asha allowed herself a small laugh, letting the moment of levity settle over her. Breakfast had been a relief, a little comic reprieve in the middle of chaos, and a reminder that even in exhaustion, the day could have small moments of… humanity.

  ——

  The Rank groups slowly formed across the large training hall as students moved to their assigned areas. The space was wide enough to hold dozens of them at once, its high stone ceiling supported by thick pillars carved with faint glowing runes that absorbed stray magic. Large windows near the top of the walls let pale daylight spill across the floor.

  The instructor stepped forward once everyone had settled.

  “Listen carefully,” she said firmly. “Training is separated by rank for a reason. Rank One practices control and focus. Rank Two works on stability and directed attacks. Rank Three focuses on precision and efficiency. No one moves ahead until the basics are mastered.”

  Her gaze swept across the students, briefly lingering on Asha before continuing.

  “Rank Two, with me.”

  Asha swallowed and stepped forward with the others.

  Sara stood beside her, stretching her shoulders as if she had done this a hundred times before. Around them, about fifteen other students gathered in a loose circle.

  Across the hall, Rank One students were practicing small sparks with an assistant instructor. Farther back, Rank Three students — including Kate — had already begun more advanced exercises. Their movements were calm and controlled, small flashes of magic forming and disappearing in perfect precision.

  Asha tried not to stare.

  Instead she looked down at her own hands.

  They still felt warm.

  Fee shifted slightly on her shoulder, her feathers giving off faint golden sparks that no one else could see.

  Relax, Fee murmured softly in her mind. You’ve already done harder things than this.

  Asha wasn’t so sure.

  The Rank Two instructor raised her hand.

  “First exercise. Basic manifestation. You should all be capable of producing a stable spark. Not an explosion, not a flare. Just a controlled ember.”

  Students lifted their hands.

  Magic began appearing all around the circle almost immediately.

  Small flames flickered to life in several palms. A student beside Sara created a tiny swirling wind. Another formed a faint glow of light hovering above their fingers.

  It all looked… easy.

  Asha lifted her hands slowly.

  Nothing happened.

  She focused harder.

  Still nothing.

  Her fingers twitched.

  Across from her, Sara had already produced a neat little spiral of wind hovering above her palm. She glanced at Asha and raised an eyebrow.

  “You okay over there?”

  “I’m trying,” Asha muttered.

  She closed her eyes and tried to do what Fee had told her earlier — feel the energy inside her chest, guide it toward her hands.

  For a moment there was only silence.

  Then a spark appeared.

  It flickered weakly above her palm before immediately disappearing.

  Asha groaned quietly.

  Sara snorted.

  “Wow. Rank Two power right there.”

  Asha shot her an annoyed look.

  “I said I’m trying.”

  The instructor was already moving between the students, correcting posture, adjusting hand positions, occasionally snapping at someone to focus.

  When she reached Asha, she paused.

  “Again.”

  Asha inhaled slowly and tried once more.

  This time the spark came quicker — a small ember hovering above her palm.

  For a brief second it held steady.

  Then it flared suddenly, jumping higher than it should before vanishing again.

  The instructor frowned slightly.

  “Hm.”

  Asha lowered her hands, embarrassed.

  “I don’t know why it does that.”

  “You’re forcing the energy,” the instructor said calmly. “Magic follows control, not emotion.”

  If only that were true, Asha thought.

  Because right now her emotions were doing most of the work.

  The exercise continued for nearly an hour.

  Students repeated the same motion again and again — summon the spark, hold it, dismiss it.

  Some improved quickly.

  Others struggled.

  Asha sat somewhere in the middle.

  Sometimes the ember appeared right away.

  Sometimes it refused to come at all.

  But every time it did appear, it behaved strangely. It flickered brighter than the others, the color slightly deeper, almost golden instead of normal orange.

  No one seemed to notice the difference.

  Except Fee.

  It’s waking up, the phoenix whispered quietly.

  Asha ignored the comment.

  She was too busy trying not to embarrass herself.

  Eventually the instructor clapped her hands.

  “Next exercise.”

  Several wooden practice dummies were rolled forward by assistants and placed at the far end of the hall.

  “These targets are reinforced,” the instructor explained. “Your task is simple. Produce a controlled attack and strike the dummy. Focus on direction and restraint.”

  Students lined up one by one.

  A boy stepped forward first and sent a small fireball into the dummy’s chest. It left a black burn mark but nothing more.

  Another student created a gust of wind that knocked the dummy slightly off balance.

  Sara stepped forward confidently when her turn came.

  She lifted her hands and formed a tight spiral of wind that shot forward and slammed into the dummy, making it rock backward on its base.

  She turned around with a satisfied grin.

  “Easy.”

  Asha was next.

  Her stomach twisted.

  She stepped forward slowly.

  The dummy stood about ten meters away, motionless and silent.

  The instructor folded her arms.

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Asha lifted her hands.

  Just a small spark, Fee whispered.

  She focused.

  The ember appeared almost instantly this time, glowing brighter than before between her palms.

  Good.

  That was good.

  She aimed toward the dummy and pushed the spark forward.

  For a split second it behaved perfectly.

  The flame shot forward like a small bolt.

  Then something inside her chest surged.

  The spark suddenly exploded into a burst of fire.

  Golden flames roared forward, swallowing the dummy completely.

  Students shouted in surprise.

  The fire lasted barely a second.

  Then it vanished.

  Silence filled the hall.

  Asha slowly lowered her hands.

  Where the practice dummy had stood, there was nothing left except a small pile of black ash scattered across the stone floor.

  Not broken wood.

  Not burn marks.

  Just ash.

  Sara blinked.

  “…what?”

  Someone behind them whispered, “Did she just destroy it?”

  The instructor walked forward slowly, staring at the ashes.

  She crouched down and brushed some of the dust with her fingers.

  Practice dummies weren’t supposed to break. Or be destroyed..

  They were designed to survive hundreds of training strikes by mages rank 3

  She stood again and looked directly at Asha.

  “How,” she asked slowly, “did you manage that?”

  Asha stared at the floor where the dummy used to be.

  “I… don’t know.”

  On her shoulder, Fee shifted proudly.

  Well, the phoenix said softly, that was impressive.

  Because somehow she was certain this was not the kind of impression she wanted to make on her first day.

  The hall remained quiet for a few seconds after the dummy turned to ash.

  Students whispered to each other while slowly gathering their things. Some kept glancing at the black pile on the floor. Others glanced at Asha like she might suddenly burn something else by accident.

  The instructor straightened up and dusted her hands.

  “That will be enough for today,” she said calmly. “Morning combat training is finished.”

  She looked around the room to make sure everyone was paying attention.

  “You now have free time until the knowledge classes begin. Use it wisely. Eat, rest, or practice on your own if you wish. But be back in the main academic halls before the lessons begin.”

  There was no bell. There never was.

  Students simply knew the schedule.

  Slowly the room began to empty.

  Some students headed toward the dining hall, others toward the courtyard, and a few stayed behind to continue practicing their magic against the remaining targets.

  Sara grabbed Asha by the arm the moment they stepped outside.

  “Okay,” she said immediately, “you are explaining that.”

  Asha blinked.

  “Explaining what?”

  Sara pointed back toward the training hall.

  “You turned a reinforced training dummy into dust!”

  “I didn’t mean to!” Asha protested.

  Sara stared at her.

  “You didn’t mean to?!”

  Asha rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

  “I just… pushed the spark forward like the instructor said.”

  Sara crossed her arms.

  “Well whatever you pushed was not a spark.”

  Behind them, Kate stepped out of the hall as well. She had finished earlier with the Rank 3 group and had waited near the entrance.

  Her calm eyes moved from Sara to Asha.

  “I heard the commotion,” she said. “You destroyed the target?”

  Asha groaned quietly.

  “Apparently.”

  Sara threw her hands in the air.

  “APPARENTLY?!”

  Kate looked slightly amused.

  “Well… at least it was a practice dummy.”

  Asha sighed.

  “Great. I’m famous for destroying school property on my first day.”

  “Correction,” Sara said. “You’re famous for vaporizing school property.”

  They began walking through the academy courtyard.

  Now that training had ended, the place felt different. Students relaxed, talking loudly, some sitting along the stone edges of the courtyard fountains. Others were already eating breakfast from small trays brought from the dining hall.

  The town beyond the academy walls could be seen in the distance — narrow streets, stone houses, banners hanging from towers. The illusion of healthy soil and greenery inside the town made everything feel almost normal, even though everyone knew the land outside the barrier was dry and lifeless.

  Asha’s stomach growled.

  Sara heard it immediately.

  “Finally,” she said. “Something normal about you.”

  They headed toward the dining hall.

  Inside, long stone tables filled the room, already crowded with students. Servants and kitchen workers moved between the tables bringing trays of food.

  Asha grabbed a plate and sat down with Kate and Sara.

  Breakfast was simple but filling: warm bread, thick vegetable stew, boiled eggs, and slices of roasted meat. Asha ate quickly — she hadn’t realized how hungry the training had made her.

  Sara talked the entire time.

  “So besides destroying dummies, what else can you do?”

  “Nothing” Asha said with her mouth full of bread.

  Sara leaned back.

  “Suspicious.”

  Kate ate quietly beside them, listening more than speaking.

  After a few minutes she finally said, “The next classes will be quieter.”

  Asha looked up.

  “Quieter?”

  “Yes,” Kate said. “Knowledge classes.”

  Sara groaned dramatically.

  “History… magical mathematics… grammar… theory of spell structures…”

  Asha blinked.

  “Math?”

  Sara nodded.

  “Yeah. Magic isn’t just throwing fire everywhere. There are patterns, calculations, structures…”

  Kate added calmly, “Without understanding the theory, stronger magic becomes dangerous.”

  Sara smirked and pointed at Asha.

  “Case in point.”

  Asha sighed and leaned back in her chair.

  Her muscles still ached from the morning training, and now her head had to deal with classes too.

  Fee shifted on her shoulder, invisible to everyone else.

  Don’t worry, the phoenix said softly.

  You survived your first combat class.

  Asha muttered under her breath, “Barely.”

  Across the dining hall, a few students were still whispering and pointing in her direction.

  Sara noticed immediately.

  “Oh yeah,” she said with a grin. “You’re definitely the new topic of gossip.”

  Asha buried her face in her hands.

  “Great.”

  Sara laughed.

  “Relax. By tomorrow someone else will probably set something on fire.”

  Fee chuckled quietly in Asha’s mind.

  Let’s hope not the entire academy.

  Asha looked up slowly.

  “…that wasn’t funny.”

  But somehow, she had a feeling the day was far from over.

  Soon they would have to return to the stone academic halls for the next part of the schedule.

  Because despite the magic, the training, and the mysterious powers—

  it was still school.