Ronan sat stiffly in the carriage beside Gideon, the steady rhythm of the wheels on the cobblestone streets filling the silence between them. Gideon seemed relaxed, his posture easy as he gazed out of the window, but Ronan couldn’t shake the discomfort that clung to him. His mind wandered, still trying to process everything Tobias had told him about the university and the empire. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for this.

He also wasn’t sure he had the confidence of wearing such flashy clothes outside. His shirt had actual jewels.

Jewels!

"You seem tense," Gideon remarked, his voice cutting through the quiet, though there was no judgment in his tone.

Ronan shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Just... thinking."

Gideon didn’t press him further, and for that, Ronan was grateful. He wasn’t in the mood to talk, not about everything swirling in his head. He liked that about Gideon.

Ronan’s eyes drifted to the window, and the moment he caught sight of what lay beyond, every thought in his head stilled. His breath hitched. The university sprawled out before him, grand and towering, unlike anything he had ever imagined. Massive structures rose from the earth like they belonged to another world entirely—arches that seemed to touch the sky, towering spires with intricate carvings, and endless courtyards filled with lush greenery.

The buildings shimmered in the late morning light, their stone walls reflecting a strange kind of beauty—both ancient and untouchable. Each tower, each building, was laced with a kind of magic that Ronan could feel even through the thick glass of the carriage.

He pressed his face closer to the window, unable to tear his gaze away. The place was mesmerizing. He had seen wealth and grandeur in the noble quarters before, but this? This was something else entirely. It felt alive, like every stone and arch had a story to tell, a secret to hide.

Gideon, noticing Ronan’s reaction, gave a small smile. "Impressive, isn’t it?"

Ronan could only nod, words lost in the immensity of the sight. For a moment, everything else faded away—the worries, the uncertainty, the future.

“What is this place?” Ronan asked, more to himself than anyone else.

“That,” Gideon gestured towards that massive hulk of a building, “is the place you will be going to. The Lumenbourg University of Mystical, Combat and General Studies.”

The carriage started to move to the left of that central building as Gideon continued, “But that is not the place we will be going to today.”

“Then where are we going?”

“Patience.”

Ronan’s gaze wandered, taking in the impressive array of buildings passing by the carriage window, each more grand than the last. He couldn’t make sense of them—massive towers, intricate spires, and bustling courtyards all seemed to blend together, a blur of overwhelming scale and beauty. It was as though the university was its own city, stretching far beyond what he had imagined.

Minutes passed, and despite his best efforts, Ronan couldn’t take in the entirety of it. Every turn revealed something new—tall archways, sprawling plazas, and shimmering banners bearing the university’s crest. He felt like an outsider looking in, unable to grasp the sheer scope of what he was seeing.

After what felt like an eternity of watching this strange new world unfold, the carriage finally slowed to a stop. Gideon glanced at him, a knowing look in his eye. "We’re here."

Ronan blinked, pulling himself out of his reverie. The door opened, and he stepped down from the carriage, his boots meeting the cobblestone road. He turned, and his breath hitched.

Before him was the university market, a scene unlike anything he’d ever encountered. The street stretched wide, lined with shops of all kinds, their signs hanging proudly overhead. A bustling crowd moved through the square—students, merchants, and scholars all mingling together. The air was thick with the smell of herbs, fresh bread, and the unmistakable tang of magic.

“This,” Gideon said, stepping down beside him, “is the University Market.”

Ronan’s eyes scanned the scene before him, his heart racing with the sheer number of things to take in. He caught sight of a few shop names, painted in elaborate calligraphy and glowing faintly with enchantments. Arcane Tomes & Codices, The Brewmaster’s Cauldron, Woven Enchantments—each name more intriguing than the last.

But then, his gaze landed on one particular sign—a bright, lively storefront that stood out even among the extravagant shops around it. The sign, painted in vibrant colors, read Sweet Scribe Confections. The large, cheerful letters were accompanied by images of candies that practically sparkled, as if promising magic in every bite.

Ronan blinked, unable to look away. His curiosity spiked, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, his feet began to move toward it, drawn in by the colorful display of treats in the window. He barely registered Gideon following behind him, as he entered the shop.

As soon as Ronan stepped inside Sweet Scribe Confections, the air changed. The scent hit him first—sugary, warm, with a hint of something spicy, like cinnamon mixed with magic. He blinked, his senses assaulted by the overwhelming sight of colors, sparkles, and every imaginable form of candy. Shelves lined the walls, towering above him and filled with jars, boxes, and delicate glass containers. Inside them were candies of every size, shape, and hue, some even floating gently above their displays, spinning lazily as if caught in an invisible breeze.

A burst of laughter echoed from a corner, and Ronan's eyes darted toward a group of students tasting a tray of brightly glowing bonbons. One of the students popped a bonbon into his mouth and immediately turned a brilliant shade of blue, giggling uncontrollably while his friends doubled over in laughter.

Ronan's heart raced with excitement as his eyes swept across the room. Candies that shimmered like stars, chocolates wrapped in gold foil that seemed to melt just by looking at them, and jars of chewy treats that crackled with sparks of magic.

"Welcome!" a voice chimed in from behind the counter. A stout, jovial man with a striped apron and a beaming smile appeared. "First time here, is it? Come, come! You must try the Mystic Fizzers—a house favorite." He gestured to a tray with a flourish, offering Ronan a small, fizzy candy that looked like it was swirling with tiny stars.

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Ronan hesitated, but curiosity won. He picked up one of the candies and popped it into his mouth. Instantly, the candy fizzed and popped, filling his mouth with a bubbly sensation. Then, in a flash, his vision swirled with colors—vivid reds, blues, and greens danced in front of his eyes. For a moment, he swore he could hear laughter, distant but warm, like a memory brought to life. He blinked rapidly, and the sensation faded, leaving a sweet, lingering taste on his tongue.

His mouth dropped open in awe, but the shopkeeper wasn't done. "Try this next—Laughing Lemon Drops! They'll bring a smile to even the grumpiest of faces!" Without waiting for a response, the man placed a small, yellow candy in Ronan's hand.

Ronan hesitated for only a second before tasting it. The tartness hit him first, but within moments, an uncontrollable chuckle escaped his lips, followed by another, and then another, until he was outright laughing. He felt his face flush with heat as he tried to stop, but the candy seemed to have other plans, tickling him from the inside out.

Gideon, watching the whole scene, chuckled softly. "Looks like you've found your favorite shop," he said with a grin.

Ronan tried to speak, but his words came out in a choked laugh. He barely managed to gasp, “I—don’t—have—money!”

The shopkeeper waved a hand, unconcerned. "Oh, don’t you worry about that now. It’s not every day we get someone as captivated as you, lad. How about a few more free samples?"

Ronan's eyes widened as the shopkeeper offered him another candy, a shimmering blue sphere. “Starlight Pop,” the man explained. “Tastes like the night sky.”

Ronan bit into it cautiously, and immediately, the room seemed to darken. Tiny stars flickered around him, as if the universe itself had opened up before his eyes. He stared in awe as the starry scene sparkled and danced in front of him.

But just as he started to think he was getting carried away, he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. Gideon stepped forward, his smile warm but mischievous. “Well, Ronan,” he said, “you’ve had a taste of magic and candy. What do you think?”

Ronan could barely respond, still marveling at the experience. “It’s—” He trailed off, completely overwhelmed by the sensations, the magic, the pure joy of it all. His mind flashed back to the idea that he didn’t have any money to even think about buying these delights.

Gideon, noticing his hesitation, smirked. “No need to worry about that.” He stepped to the counter and, in one grand gesture, reached into his coat pocket and pulled out several gleaming gold coins, setting them down with a satisfying clink. “Boxes of everything.”

The shopkeeper’s eyes widened in delight, and Ronan’s jaw dropped. “Wait, wait— I can’t—”

Before he could finish, Gideon picked up another candy, a glowing pink truffle, and popped it into Ronan’s mouth, silencing him. “Shut up and enjoy it,” Gideon said with a smirk, his tone playful but firm.

The truffle melted on Ronan’s tongue, filling his mouth with a flavor that could only be described as pure bliss. His protests melted away with it, replaced by an overwhelming sense of gratitude and disbelief.

As the shopkeeper happily began packing up several boxes of sweets, Ronan looked up at Gideon, who simply gave him a wink. “Consider it a welcome gift.”

Ronan, for once, didn’t argue.

And the secret was, he didn’t want to argue.

***

Ronan stood stiffly on the platform, arms outstretched as the tailor worked around him with quick, precise movements. The man’s expression was sharp, though not unkind, and his tone matched—formal, yet with an edge of authority. The magical measuring tape wound itself around Ronan’s chest and arms, recording his measurements with almost unsettling accuracy.

“Stand straight, if you will, Young Master,” the tailor instructed, his voice clipped but professional. “We need these measurements exact for your official university attire.”

Ronan did as he was told, feeling awkward under the tailor’s watchful eye. He wasn’t used to being scrutinized like this, let alone for clothes that felt far too extravagant for him. “Why so formal?” Ronan muttered under his breath, but the tailor caught it.

“Your university uniform is reserved for ceremonies, gatherings, and any formal events the university deems appropriate.,” the tailor replied, his voice cool. “You may not wear it often, but when you do, it will be in front of the most important figures in the empire. Appearances matter.”

Pretentious much?

The tailor stepped back, looking Ronan over critically. “The blazer will be tailored once your guild assignment is made. For now, these measurements will ensure the rest of your attire is ready promptly.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “Guild?”

The tailor gave a curt nod. “Every student is assigned to a guild after their initial orientation. It’s tradition, and your guild will determine the final stitching and emblem of your blazer. Having your measurements now will ensure the process is faster once that assignment happens.”

Ronan shifted uneasily on the platform. The feeling of being measured from head to toe was odd—intrusive, even. The enchanted measuring tape ticked off numbers around his waist and arms, and he could feel the tailor’s eyes on him, though the man said nothing.

Gideon, who had been standing off to the side, observing quietly, finally spoke. “It’s all part of the formality of the university. The events, the uniforms, they’re just another aspect of life there. You’ll get used to it.”

Ronan let out a small huff, watching as the tape coiled around his chest, measuring him with an efficiency that made him feel more like an object than a person. "Used to it, huh?" He muttered under his breath. That’s what he had been hearing since last month.

The tailor, oblivious to Ronan’s discomfort, continued with his work, adjusting the tape one last time before stepping back. “All done,” he said, with the same neutral tone he’d used from the start. “You’ll be notified when your official attire is ready.”

Ronan stepped off the platform, feeling the remnants of the tailor’s critical gaze as he followed Gideon out into the bustling market streets.

Shops lined the street, each more extravagant than the last. Some were filled with shimmering robes, others with magical artifacts that pulsed with faint light. Ronan’s eyes skimmed the vibrant displays but didn’t linger too long on any one thing.

As they walked through the bustling streets, Ronan’s eyes darted from one shop to the next, trying to make sense of the sheer variety around him. He caught sight of a sign for The Brewmaster’s Cauldron, its logo featuring a cauldron bubbling over with vibrant colors.

A little further along, they passed a shop with an elegant sign reading Woven Enchantments. The clothing in the window shimmered in the light, and Ronan could see students stepping in and out, each leaving with robes that seemed to change with their movements.

The sounds of shopkeepers calling out their wares and students haggling over prices filled the air. The clinking of coins, the hum of enchantments, and the occasional burst of laughter created an atmosphere that clashed with Ronan’s own thoughts.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Gideon asked, his tone light but curious.

Ronan shrugged, glancing sideways at the people bustling by. “The tailor was weird.”

Gideon chuckled softly. “You might need to get used to it. There are all kinds of people in the world.”

Ronan huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Right.” He tried not to let his unease show, but everything here felt too extravagant—too polished for someone like him.

As they passed one of the larger shops, Ronan’s eyes caught sight of a display of enchanted armor, the metal glowing faintly as it shifted colors in the light. He slowed for a moment, watching the way students eagerly peered into the window, admiring the gleaming pieces.

“Interested?” Gideon asked, noticing Ronan’s gaze.

Ronan shook his head, quick to dismiss it. “Not really. Just... never seen anything like it.”

Finally, after weaving through the market’s various stalls, they reached the quieter end of the street where Tempest Forge stood. Unlike the other shops, this one had no flashy displays or magical effects in the windows. It was solid, almost imposing, with the faint sound of hammering coming from within.

“This is our last stop for the day,” Gideon said as they stopped in front of the forge.