That day coincided with a glorious, momentous event! Proof of it lied right at the bridge leading towards the immense gates of the one and only magickal institution within the province.

   On that day, Gorlea College opened its doors and allowed the registration of its newest batch of acolytes. This was a chance for aspiring maegia to put forth their skills to the test and if found suitable, learn within the walls under the tutelage of some of the brightest minds of the current era.

   To most, this was the opportunity of a lifetime.

   Plebeians flocked at the start of a stone bridge, their manic pleas shouting for entry severed by an invisible barrier. In the confines of its safety, a tall man dressed in lustrous robes stood with his hands tied behind his back.

   No matter how many times the people outside screamed, no matter how many tears they shed, the robed man did not flinch. With an apathetic countenance, he fiercely guarded the area.

   ‘Please, kind sir. Take my child…’ a woman banged at the barrier with all her might. ‘He is a gifted young man. Please don’t leave him to rot on the streets.’

   ‘My son too,’ a mother pushed a boy no taller than a shrub of blackberries. ‘He can become a magick person no doubt. Show them, sweetie.’

   ‘Forget their children. Take me! I’m a self-taught maegi.’

   Many came and pleaded yet the senior looking man remained absolutely idle. It seemed as nought would move his hand or heart.

   It was exceptionally hot and searing that day, brilliant scorching rays of the sun whittled down the ranks of commoners camping nearby. Some succumbed to exhaustion whilst lesser few were even rendered unconscious.

   And even when a small child unfortunately fell dead from heatstroke, the man behind the gates stayed perfectly still.

   It wasn’t until a group of seven came by that he was finally seen moving. The members were all elegant seeming, prominent and similarly clothed, and not a speck of grime dirtied their fine raiment. One individual stood out from the rest; a staff held in one of his hands.

   ‘We are here,’ the one at the front remarked as he rummaged through the inner pocket of his hood. ‘Your entry tokens, all of you, show it to the watchman.’

   The remaining six took out tokens – circular baubles with a blue gem in the centre – and followed his lead. The man at the front approached the invisible deterrent and stood exactly a pace away from it, he raised his arm and revealed his own token to the watchman. Unlike the others, his token was golden and gleaming with a green gem encrusted in the centre instead.

   The watchman took one glance at it and recognised him, ‘welcome back, Sir Railone.’

   ‘Thank you, Lazrus. Busy day?’

   ‘Very. I trust your travels have been fruitful,’ he said as he leaned to spy at the youngsters in the background.

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   Railone turned his head in their direction and chuckled. He appeared to take pride with the selection of talents he had come across during his travels across the continent.

   He beckoned them closer, ‘promising youths all.’

   ‘Such high praise. I hope you will not disappoint Sir Railone’s expectations.’

   ‘We will do our best, sir watchman.’

   ‘Good. Good,’ Lazrus was content with their confident reply. ‘Come in. Your chaperone will lead you to the registration booth yonder the bridge.’

   Lazrus swished his fingers and a gentle breeze came over the bunch. As it subsided, they noticed how their tokens had now adopted a slight blue glimmer which when brought close to the barrier, allowed them safe entry. They marched onwards and aimed towards the booth that was mentioned.

   With the first arrivals residing safely within the college’s grounds, an uproar fractured the peace in the surrounding area. The earlier interaction left those gathered around the bridge feeling uneasy and demanding a satisfying answer. Alas the bridge guardian fell silent just as soon, sowing further discontent amongst the masses.

   The commoners redoubled their efforts, making yet another series of futile attempts to force their way in.

   Hours later, neither man nor otherwise had managed to slip even a fingernail through the protective barrier. Despair took them and had the majority withdraw from the premises for good. Whoever remained was either desperate or there to investigate those who successfully entered.

   ‘Make way, mongrels! Spare me your tasteless antics.’

   A young man waltzed right through the crowd with an earnest attitude. His face showed visible repulsion whenever he bumped with them.

   ‘Make way. Make way. I ain’t got all day,’ he spat furiously, his security detail shoving aside those whom stood in his way. ‘This town sure is a dump. Alas the college lies within such a disgraceful location. No wonder a protective barrier was laid out to deter the unwelcome.’

   Before Lazrus, the young man unveiled the entry token in is possession. The former made a gesture of his hand and the barrier split open for him.

   ‘My name is Urael Flonderance, reporting my arrival to the college and the Arch-Maegi.’

   Lazrus did not entertain his statement and simply turned his focus elsewhere.

   Urael was shocked at this treatment. He shook his head and repeated his sentence one more time.

   ‘Ahem…’ he cleared his throat, ‘my name is Urael –’

   ‘I don’t care. Go in or stay out.’

   ‘Beg your pardon?’ his eyes widened.

   ‘Presumptuous of you to suggest that I, not to mention the Arch-Maegi, am supposed to acknowledge the presence of a mere registrant who hasn’t even qualified as an acolyte.’

   Urael raised his finger threateningly, ‘my father is high –’

   ‘Move along or move away. I shan’t repeat another time.’

   He swallowed his words for the time being. Although he suffered humiliation this time around, Urael hadn’t his father with him to back him up in this moment. Bottling his fury, the young man flounced out of sight as the sound of his steps vanished behind the end of the bridge.

   Many others arrived after the Floderance boy and were allowed entry by the watchman. People of different status, race, and even age expressed their wishes to register but only those in possession of the token were accepted in.

   As the sun reached its zenith, well past noon, four people arrived near the point of entry. Two amongst them walked ahead, the remaining two keeping their distance, visible fright weighing on their countenances.

   ‘There we are, Master Riniock. I’m afraid this is where we part ways.’

   ‘It is indeed,’ the boy spoke softly. ‘This is where my legacy unfolds. Believe this is goodbye.’