Chapter 06

Academy Of Magic... and Confusion?

The academy's main courtyard thrummed with life and activity. Tides of well-dressed students shuffled about, their purposeful strides and polished demeanours weaving a tapestry of professionalism and order. Among the dense crowd, aged and young visitors stood out in their wonder, while the professors—poised and commanding—were unmistakable.

Finn watched it all with wide eyes. It was overwhelming. Every student, visitor, and professor carried a certain weight to their presence. Was it pride? Passion? A sense of belonging? Whatever it was, Finn felt acutely aware of its absence within himself.

In the hazy blur of the moment, a thought surfaced in his mind, unbidden and sharp. Do I belong... here?

The question gnawed at him, tightening like a knot in his chest. He shoved it aside. Now was not the time for hesitation. So what if everyone else came from prestigious backgrounds, with rich families and endless connections? Finn was here. That was all that mattered.

He took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air, tinged with the faint scent of blossoming trees. The weight in his chest lightened ever so slightly.

I can do this, he told himself. With that, Finn pushed himself to move. He needed to start somewhere, and finding the dormitories seemed like the logical first step. If he was going to settle into this strange, overwhelming place, he might as well begin by figuring out where he’d sleep. Sure, he didn't have a clue how to get there, but how hard could it be to find a dormitory?

Joining the crowd, he headed in a random direction. The academy was like a small town, with cobblestone paths crisscrossing between towering stone buildings that seemed to hum with history. He wondered, with a mix of awe and trepidation, just how many great mages had walked these paths before him.

Intricate carvings and symbols adorned the towering archways and columns, depicting stories of scholars and adventurers from centuries past. The hum of conversations, the shuffle of feet, and the occasional ring of a bell all blended into a lively symphony of academia.

Finn let the crowd guide him, his head swivelling to take in everything. To his left, a group of students stood in a loose circle around a tall, grey-haired professor. The professor had a cheeky grin, his sharp eyes twinkling as he began mouthing an incantation.

Suddenly, a burst of light surrounded the group, shimmering like liquid gold. Finn froze mid-step, his gaze snapping toward the scene. The air seemed to hum for a brief moment, and then—with a soft whoosh—the students and the professor disappeared.

His jaw dropped. "W-what?! T-teleportation?!" he blurted out. Realizing his outburst, he clamped his hands over his mouth and glanced around nervously.

Teleportation? That’s supposed to be the stuff of legends! Fairytales! How could a single mage just casually cast something like that?

Finn was stunned beyond belief. His thoughts raced, but one thing was certain—he wouldn’t forget that professor’s cheeky grin anytime soon.

Still unmoving, the crowd around him continued to flow, their movements a blur as Finn remained locked in place. Time seemed to slow as his thoughts spiralled. Then, a shiver ran down his spine—a sudden, unshakable premonition.

Dodge? Why do I feel the need to dodge?

He instinctively turned his head sharply, his heart thudding in his chest. That’s when he saw her. She was moving against the tide of the crowd, pushing past bodies as though they weren’t there. Her small frame seemed fragile, yet she gripped something in her hands with a desperation that was impossible to ignore. Finn’s eyes focused on her face as she came closer. Tears streaked her cheeks, her breaths shallow and ragged.

What’s going on?

Finn tried to step aside, but his legs refused to move. The crowd seemed to close in around him, isolating him from everything else. She was coming straight for him.

"Move!" she shouted, her voice hoarse and cracking.

But Finn didn’t move. He couldn’t.

In the split second, before she reached him, she stumbled. Her foot caught on a loose cobblestone, and she lurched forward. Finn firmed his footing and prepared his weight to halt the falling girl.

Her small frame smashed into Finn with the speed of a cannonball, yet he didn't budge. She bounced off him like she weighed nothing, falling backwards and landing against the hard cobblestone with a thud. Without pausing, she pushed herself up, her wet eyes meeting those of Finn's.

"Sorry," she whispered, looking away from him.

Finn was about to reply, but she sprinted off.

Finn blinked, still frozen in place as the girl disappeared into the crowd. His mind raced. Who was she? Why was she running? And what had she been holding so tightly?

A commotion behind him snapped him out of his thoughts. Shouts rang out—angry, commanding voices cutting through the hum of the courtyard.

"Stop her!" someone barked.

Finn turned his head just in time to see two men in colourful robes weaving through the crowd. Their sharp eyes were locked on the direction the girl had gone, their movements swift and purposeful.

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The duo sprinted past him without a second glance, their determination to catch the sobbing girl practically radiating from their every step.

Finn scratched his head as he stared after them. What... had just happened?

A grey-haired man teleported a small group like it was nothing, a strange premonition had coursed through him, and then a crying girl—clutching something with the intensity of a lifeline—had run straight into him.

And now these two were chasing her.

At least she apologized...

Finn shook his head, exhaling sharply. Was this what life at the academy was going to be like? One impossible, confusing thing after another?

Snapping out of his thoughts, Finn scanned his surroundings. The crowd had already returned to its usual bustle as if nothing unusual had happened. But Finn couldn’t shake the feeling that something about the encounter was important—like a thread in a larger tapestry he didn’t yet understand.

His gaze drifted in the direction the girl had run. Should he follow? No. He didn’t even know her, of course.

Finn hesitated, his feet rooted to the spot. His chest tightened as he replayed the image of her tear-streaked face.

Something about her felt familiar—maybe the desperation in her tear-streaked face or the way she clutched that pendant like it was her lifeline. Finn frowned, racking his brain. Where had he seen that look before?

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t place it.

With a sigh, he shook his head and forced himself to focus. He had more pressing matters to worry about.

Dormitories. Right...

He swivelled his head left and right, trying to decide. He could keep following the crowd and hope he ended up in the right place, or he could save himself the trouble and just ask someone for directions.

Option two it is... Wait, why didn’t I think of this before?

After a bit of searching, Finn spotted someone who seemed approachable—well, somewhat. The librarian—or at least Finn thought it was a librarian—was strangely shaped, with an elongated neck and three pairs of glasses perched on his head. Only one pair seemed to be in use, but the others sat there like decorative accessories.

“Excuse me,” Finn said hesitantly. “Do you know how to get to the boys’ dormitories?”

"Dorms? Down the path, third building left," the librarian said without looking up, his second pair of glasses sliding halfway down his elongated nose. "Try not to get lost, first-year."

“Uh, thanks,” Finn mumbled, hurrying away.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of wandering, he arrived at the boys’ dormitories.

The dormitory building loomed before him, its stone walls covered in creeping ivy and its arched windows glowing softly in the afternoon light. A large wooden door stood at the entrance, flanked by lanterns that hummed faintly with magic.

Finn pushed the door open and stepped inside, his footsteps echoing against the polished stone floor. The interior was much better kept than the exterior, everything was pristine. What seemed to be the main hall, was rather empty, with only a couple of students moving through.

Finn glanced around, taking in the serene yet slightly intimidating atmosphere. The main hall of the boys' dormitory was large and impressive, with towering wooden beams stretching high above him. The walls were adorned with framed portraits of former students—mages whose gazes seemed to follow him, their expressions stern and expectant. The floor beneath his boots gleamed, polished to a mirror-like shine, and the scent of lavender and freshly cut wood lingered in the air. The only sounds were the soft scuff of his boots and the faint rustle of robes as the other students passed by.

Finn reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his small identification badge, which also functioned as his key. The metal tag glinted in the soft light, the numbers etched on its surface standing out in bold relief.

Room 203. Second floor.

Finn took a deep breath. He hadn’t expected the dormitory to be so... well, grand. It was more like a castle than a dormitory, and it suddenly hit him just how much he didn’t belong there. Everyone else walked with the ease of someone accustomed to this world—these polished halls, these towering walls, this air of quiet, assured purpose. And here was Finn, a first-year with no connections, no family history at the academy, and barely a clue what was going on.

He shook off the thought. There was no time for that. He was here, and he had to make the most of it.

With a glance at the key again, Finn looked up at the staircase that spiralled upward, its stone steps worn from years of use. Arriving at the second floor and following the signs that pointed toward 203, he finally arrived outside what would be home for the foreseeable future.

Finn smiled as he stared at the large wooden door. He was about to reach for the handle when he noticed something weird.

Handle? Where is the door handle?!

Finn was almost fed up. What was with these annoying challenges? Why wouldn't they just tell him how all of this stuff worked?

Sighing, Finn shrugged his shoulders. No point stressing about it, he had something more important to worry about.

Rubbing his chin, he racked his brain. Door with no handle, or keyhole–how would I open that?

A smile flashed across his face. Magic!

Well... not his magic. Finn suddenly remembered he had a magical tool right in his hand!

Finn looked down at the small identification badge, or rather his key. He hadn’t given it much thought before, but maybe it actually was his key. He didn't think the clerk was lying, of course, he just didn't quite understand.

With a glance around to make sure no one was watching, Finn stepped closer to the door and pressed the badge against its smooth surface. The instant he did, a faint hum filled the air, and the wood of the door seemed to shimmer as if responding to the magic embedded in the key.

A soft click echoed through the hall, and the door creaked open by itself, revealing the room beyond. Finn blinked in surprise. It had worked! He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but this was certainly more convenient than fumbling with a keyhole.

Stepping forward into the room, Finn smiled.

"Home."