Chapter 36
TakRan
"Yes, sir," Körper replied with a slight nod of his head, maintaining the precise formality of close acquaintances who respect each other.
"Great," Ivan replied, relaxing his shoulders with a knowing smile. "And later, what will you do to take advantage of the day off the older students have for the new arrivals?"
Körper let out a short laugh, looking aside as if he had already decided early on.
"I'll go train with Bairon somewhere," he said naturally. "He says he found an adventurer who practices a style that hasn't reached the academy yet. I want to see if it's true or if he's just exaggerating."
Ivan raised an eyebrow, interested.
"A new style, huh? That sounds great." He brought a hand to his chin, thoughtful. "Maybe I'll stop by the guild later, see what I can find to take advantage of the day off I requested."
Körper nodded, crossing his arms as he watched the families still entering through the gate.
"Good idea. Foreign adventurers often bring new things worth knowing about… or at least a good story to listen to."
"Or a beer," Ivan added, laughing.
Körper returned the smile.
"Or two."
The two men laughed softly, sharing that kind of easy humor born from habit.
Behind them, Sil was chatting animatedly with Elara, and both women watched the children, who were already walking together along the entrance path, looking around with curious eyes.
"I imagine it will be a short visit," commented Körper, lowering his voice a little as he cast a glance towards the boy.
"For being in the, you already know, of whom," he added with a subtle gesture of his head towards Kaep, who was still chatting animatedly with Eli a few meters ahead.
Ivan smiled sideways, instantly catching the hint.
"Of course. I just need to tell Laios to get Dad's gift for tonight," he replied in a casual tone.
"Great," said Körper, nodding satisfied.
The two exchanged a knowing look before turning their gaze back to the path.
They resumed their pace, walking side by side along the stone path that led beyond the reddish walls.
As they advanced, the sound of the city faded behind, replaced by a more serene atmosphere. Inside the grounds, the air smelled of wood and freshly cut grass.
The footsteps of the two men echoed in rhythm as they followed the women and children, who had moved a little ahead.
Ivan glanced ahead, watching how little Kaep laughed at something Eli had just said to him. That simple image—the two children together, walking towards their first day in a new world—drew a discreet smile from him.
Körper, beside him, noticed the gesture.
Beyond the first reddish walls, where the air still held the scent of dry clay and sun, stretched a second enclosure.
A new line of walls, taller and more solid, made of carefully aligned red bricks, rose before them. Unlike the first, more open and friendly, these seemed built to mark a boundary, a threshold towards something greater.
Through the main entrance, a stone arch blackened by time, a monumental building rose before them.
Its facade combined the strength of carved stone with the elegance of ornamental metals. Large columns stood on either side of a wide staircase, whose steps reflected the sunlight as if they had been polished thousands of times by the passage of generations.
At the top of the building, several statues watched from their pedestals: figures of men and women in ancient robes, holding books, swords, or faceless heads.
Among them, in the center, a figure larger than the others stretched an arm towards the sky, as if pointing to a destiny. With a face bearing a large scar that covered three-quarters of it.
Kaep looked up, open-mouthed.
"It's huge…" he murmured, his eyes shining with awe.
Eli, beside him, nodded slowly.
Ivan, who had advanced a few steps with Körper, stopped when he noticed his son had fallen behind.
He turned slightly and saw him: Kaep was walking a little slower, his eyes fixed on the monumental building rising before them. His small hand pointed upwards, as if still trying to comprehend the magnitude of what he was seeing.
Sil and Elara walked beside him, both observing calmly, letting the children enjoy the moment.
Eli, with curiosity, tried to follow the direction Kaep was pointing, but soon got distracted seeing a group of men pass through the inner arch wearing uniforms of different colors hidden under their knee-length coats of the same style but black.
The father smiled at that scene. There was something in his son's expression—that glint between curiosity and admiration—that reminded him of himself, the day he first set foot on that same ground.
Then, Kaep raised his hand and waved it gently, signaling for him to come closer.
The gesture was so direct and trusting that Ivan didn't hesitate.
He turned to Körper with a brief smile.
"Give me a moment," he said, before stepping back calmly towards his family.
The noise of the conversations around him became fuzzy, almost erased by the softer sound of his son's boots on the flagstones.
Kaep watched him approach with a mixture of impatience and contained excitement.
"What is it, little one?" asked Ivan when he reached him, bending down a bit to be at his height.
Kaep stretched his arm towards the building.
"Is that the place where you learned and where uncle is studying?" he asked in a low voice, almost as if he feared interrupting something sacred.
Ivan looked at him for a moment in silence, then nodded slowly, with a faint but meaningful smile.
"Yes. Right there," he replied. "Where everything begins… and where things get more interesting. The Takran Mixed Academy."
The name resonated with a certain weight in the air.
Kaep repeated it in a low voice, testing the sound of each syllable.
"Mixed… Academy… Takran."
Sil approached slowly, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"And now it's your turn," she added gently.
The little boy smiled, without looking away from the front, and his fingers clenched tightly, ready to take the next step.
---
The interior of the building seemed from another world.
As soon as they crossed the enormous doors, the sound of the street faded completely, replaced by a vast, serene silence, interrupted only by the soft echo of footsteps on the mosaics.
Families walked with their children along an extensive hallway, lined with tall columns that vanished among the ceiling arches. The walls were covered with ancient reliefs: carved scenes of human figures and fantastic creatures, intertwined with symbols that seemed to move slightly under the light.
The crystal lamps suspended from above contained a constant luminescence inside.
Kaep walked between his parents, his gaze jumping from side to side. Every door they passed had a different emblem on the frame: spirals, stars, branches, weapons, or fragments of runes. Behind some, voices could be heard, the murmur of teachers or cleaning staff.
Eli, a little further ahead, walked holding her mother's hand, also looking at everything with fascination.
"Mom… why are there so many doors?" she asked, in a whisper that still echoed off the walls.
"Because throughout the week there will be more groups of new students, today it's our turn," Elara replied softly. "So many classrooms are used to accommodate everyone, including the older students, so that next week when everyone comes normally, the academy won't be overcrowded with students."
Kaep heard that and looked at his father, his violet eyes reflecting the lights of the hallway.
"I won't be separated from Eli, will I?"
Ivan smiled without answering immediately.
"The first month they won't separate you…" he finally said, in a calm tone. "You don't have to worry anymore, now and when their eyes change they will go to the same general classes… for the specialized ones, that's another story."
The boy looked down, thoughtful, as they continued forward.
The floor, covered in dark tiles, reflected their figures as they passed; the air was imbued with a soft scent of ink, paper, and metal.
It was as if every corner of the place breathed history, and Kaep, without fully understanding why, felt he had just entered a place he would remember all his life.
---
They thus arrived at an open-air space of colossal dimensions.
The air felt lighter there, as if the whole place breathed with them.
Before their eyes stretched an immense esplanade of light stone, polished until it reflected the sunlight like a dull mirror.
In the center, a circular fountain of black stone projected fine threads of water that rose and fell in perfect silence, creating a light mist that played with the light.
Around this point, three buildings rose majestically, each oriented towards a different cardinal point: one to the left, another straight ahead, and the last to the right.
Each structure shared the same architectural language as the main building—architecture that didn't fit with the rest of the city: where the constructions were of stone and wood, warm and functional, these seemed to belong to another era.
They rose with a severe elegance, made of materials that reflected the sunlight as if they preserved within them the memory of ancient times.
The towers, slender and tall, rose like spears bathed in the daylight—, but each had a distinct nuance in its design.
The building on the left displayed inscriptions and reliefs of figures in motion: warriors, bipedal beasts, and symbols similar to eyes.
The one in front, similar to the one on the left, displayed inscriptions and reliefs of figures in motion: warriors, humanoids with horns, and more symbols similar to eyes.
The one on the right, however, had large windows and metallic structures that fit more with current times.
Kaep stood still, slowly turning on his heels as he observed each one.
"There are… three," he murmured, pointing a finger in each direction.
"Three great wings," explained Ivan, approaching his son. "Each one is basically an academy in itself."
Körper, walking a few steps ahead, added:
"You could imagine it as each being split in half. On the left the general classes and on the right the specialized ones."
Kaep listened attentively, his gaze shining as he looked between the three directions.
"In the specialized ones, will they teach me about being a psychic?"
Ivan smiled.
"Exactly."
The boy blinked, nodding and looking around again, marveling.
The wind blew softly, moving his chestnut hair and making the leaves of the nearby trees dance, while the voices and laughter of other children resonated in the distance, scattered across the great courtyard.
Sil watched the scene with tenderness.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she whispered, looking at her son.
Kaep nodded without taking his eyes off the front.
"Yes… it's greener here than outside."
---
Little by little, the scattered bustle of the courtyard began to calm down.
A voice, firm but calm, rose from somewhere among the families, giving brief, clear instructions… no. Rather, from inside their heads.
Three lines, children at the front, the shortest adult in the middle, the tallest adult at the back, said the feminine voice coming from within their minds.
Within seconds, all the parents and their children began to move, organizing themselves with surprising coordination.
From an elevated view, the formation would have looked like a huge living rectangle.
The adults lined up behind, while the children—from the oldest to the youngest—took position at the front.
From left to right, the line was ordered by height: from the tallest adult, down to the smallest boy or girl, composing a visual harmony of perfectly measured human lines.
The sound of soles and footsteps formed a constant, dry, almost ritualistic rhythm.
When the last family found its place, silence fell like a cloth over the air.
Then, from among the ranks, men and women dressed in black uniforms began to emerge.
Their steps were firm, synchronized, and their mere presence commanded respect.
Each wore the same base design: long, open jackets that reached their knees, with military-cut shoulder pads and fitted belts.
However, there was a visible difference among them: along the coats ran embroidered stripes in identical patterns, but in six different colors, which crossed the chest and shoulders like insignias of their specialty.
The colors—red, blue, green, orange, violet, and yellow—shone with metallic reflections under the sun, moving in time with the folds of the dark fabric.
Each one took a position in front of the families, forming a new line, parallel to that of the parents and children.
Their expressions were serious, but not cold; there was a professional calm about them, the bearing of those who knew well the weight of the tradition they represented.
Kaep watched with wide eyes, fascinated by the synchrony and the shine of the uniforms.
"Dad…" he whispered, without looking away. "Who are they?"
Ivan bent down a little to answer him in a low voice:
"The instructors of the six branches of specialty. Each color represents one."
The boy looked back at the front, trying to guess which one would be his.
His gaze stopped for a moment on the uniforms with violet trim.
Sil placed a hand on his shoulder, sensing the tension in his fingers.
"The violet one," she said softly, pointing them out discreetly.
A light wind swept through the courtyard, lifting the instructors' coats, making the colors wave like banners.
The crowd remained in silence, waiting for the voice that would set the ceremony in motion.
---
Among the aligned instructors, one stepped forward.
The movement was simple, but it was enough to attract all eyes.
His uniform, unlike the others, was not black: it was a light gray, almost white in the daylight.
The upper garment, a sort of short cape that covered his shoulders, was confusing at first, until one noticed it was the part that would go over the shirt, betrayed by the sleeves shaking in the breeze.
The edges and stripes running along the cape-like garment he wore shone in an intense yellow, like polished gold, reflecting the light with every small movement.
His bearing was firm, without rigidity; his presence did not seek to impose itself, but it did so anyway.
He was young, perhaps not much older than older students like Körper, and yet, his gaze—serene, deep, with an undiscreet smile—had something that silenced even the most restless.
The silence became absolute.
Only the murmur of the wind and the rustle of his cape as he advanced could be heard.
The man stopped his steps in front of the families, right at the center of the human rectangle.
He brought his right hand to his chest, made a fist, and struck it once, a single, dry, decisive blow over his heart.
The sound resonated in the air, and immediately all the instructors repeated the gesture, in unison.
The combined echo of the blows expanded through the courtyard like a ritual drum.
Then, the young man spoke.
His voice was clear, tempered, with a firmness that didn't need to impose itself to be heard.
"Good day… or afternoon, future comrades," he said, with a tone that mixed respect and an unexpected closeness. "I hope you have had a great first impression of this place."
As he spoke, he gave a slight bow, inclining his head with his hand still resting on his chest.
His light gray cape settled on his back with the movement, revealing the soft shine of the golden stripes that edged it on the sleeves and collar.
"Here, before you," he continued, with a hint of confidence that loosened the silence, "your servant."
He straightened up slowly, raising his gaze to the audience.
The sun reflected for an instant on his fiery chestnut, almost coppery hair, and at that moment his initial expression became clear: serenity gave way to a confident, sincere smile, with sharp eyes.
"Of the twenty-ninth generation of Takran Academy…" he said, making a brief pause, letting the name resonate and the echo die down by itself.
"Allion. The First of the Eleven Marked."