Chapter 7 – First Lessons
In the days that followed the ceremony, Alana barely had time to breathe. While the other students were divided into sectors and settled into fixed routines, she followed a unique path — an unstable schedule written on a scroll that rewrote itself every morning, floating beside her bed as if it had a will of its own.
Her first class was with Professor Lysander, at the top of the Tower of Currents, a circular room surrounded by mirrors that didn't reflect the body, but the mind — distorted, fleeting images dancing across silver surfaces like old dreams trying to return.
"Primordial Magic," Lysander said, hands clasped behind his back, "is not something that is taught. It's something remembered. And your mind must be clear to recall what it already knows, even if it doesn't know it knows."
Confusing? Completely.
Alana spent almost an hour in meditation, seated in a lotus position on a floor of cold stone. It was hard to concentrate with so many inner voices buzzing like bees. But when she focused on an old memory — her father telling stories under the stars, his voice intertwined with the sound of the wind — something inside her calmed. She felt a light current run up her spine, and a crack echoed in the room.
When she opened her eyes, one of the mirrors was cracked. Her reflection was smiling back at her… though she knew she wasn't smiling.
"One step," Lysander murmured, eyes fixed on her. "And steps lead to doors."
Her next class was with Professor Maeria, in the Garden of Winds, where the trees sang in different tones according to the day's mood. There, she didn't learn spells, but sensations. She learned to feel the elements around her. To listen to the vibration of fire, the sigh of water, the call of air, and the silence of stone.
"You have an affinity with fire and water," Maeria said as an elemental ring floated around Alana, reacting to her presence. "But there's something more. It's as if the essence of the elements wants to dance with you, not just respond."
Around her, plants bloomed as she passed. The wind whispered through her hair as if it recognized her name. And the stone in her necklace began to pulse with a soft glow whenever she focused.
Not everything was peaceful.
During a focus exercise with Professor Kaelron — one of the masters of Arcane Defense — Alana lost control of a rune sequence and caused a small energy collapse. The floor cracked beneath her feet and sparks leapt from the walls, frightening half the class watching from a distance.
That was the day she met Theo, a boy from the Mental Sector, with messy hair and sharp gray eyes like blades. He approached as the teachers tried to contain the damage.
"Impressive," he said, crouching beside her. "You almost destroyed the north tower. I can't wait to see what you'll do when you're actually angry."
Alana let out an involuntary laugh. Theo smiled, stood up, and offered his hand.
"Theo Riven. Third cycle. Specializes in psychic manipulation and occasional sarcasm."
"Alana," she replied, taking his hand. "And apparently a specialist in causing problems."
"Perfect. We'll get along great."
That same day, in the floating dining hall, she met Nyra, a girl from the Elemental Sector. Curly copper-colored hair, intense green eyes, and a vibrant energy that seemed to radiate from her skin.
"You're Alana Stilinsk, right?" she asked, sitting beside her with a tray full of glowing fruit. "I saw you at the ceremony. All golden and mystical. I thought it was amazing."
"Amazingly embarrassing," Alana muttered.
"Not at all! You were epic. I'm Nyra Delveen. I like storms, air magic, and people who don't pretend to be normal."
From then on, the three of them began to meet during breaks, sharing laughter, frustrations, and curiosities about the classes and the Institute. Theo and Nyra seemed so different — mind and emotion, reason and instinct — but with Alana between them, the connection felt natural.
Even so, she felt something… different. As if the energy around her pulsed a little stronger when she was near. As if the Institute itself were watching.
One night, returning from the library with Nyra, they heard whispers behind a living tapestry. Alana paused for a moment. Theo appeared shortly after, as if he had sensed something.
"She's the girl with the ancient magic, right? The one with the golden light?"
"Yeah. They say the Council wants to watch her. Maybe even test her."
"Or worse... maybe the Shadow has sensed her."
Silence fell like a blade.
Alana kept walking, pretending not to hear. But something in her chest tightened. The words repeated in her mind like a miscast spell.
The Shadow.
Theo noticed her unease and gently touched her shoulder.
"Whatever comes... you're not alone."
Nyra nodded firmly.
"We face it together."
Alana said nothing, but clutched the stone against her chest, feeling its warmth respond to her touch. Deep down, she knew something was lurking. Something old, dark, and drawing closer.
But now, she was no longer alone.
And maybe… she was starting to believe she belonged in that world.