The world around them began to distort, the edges of reality blurring and twisting as the pocket dimension started to unravel. The stars overhead flickered and faded, and the ground beneath their feet seemed to shift and warp as the power of the shift took hold.
Caelum held onto Seraphine’s body tightly, his heart pounding in his chest as the world around them began to collapse.
This is it, he thought, bracing himself for whatever came next.
And then, in the blink of an eye, they were gone.
They were standing in a room—no, an office—surrounded by bookshelves that reached up to the vaulted ceiling. The heavy scent of old parchment and ink filled the air, mingling with the subtle hum of magic that seemed to permeate the space. Caelum blinked, his mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened.
Seraphine was still pressed against him, her face flush against his chest, their hands intertwined. His heart raced, not from the shift itself, but from the closeness, the warmth of her body against his. He could feel her steady breathing, and for a moment, neither of them moved, as though still coming to terms with what they had just done.
“Well,” a voice said, cutting through the silence like a knife. “That’s a surprise.”
They both startled, instinctively pulling apart as they turned toward the source of the voice.
An older man, tall and stately with sharp, intelligent eyes, stood behind a large wooden desk. His robes were an elegant shade of dark blue, trimmed with silver runes that seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light of the office. He wasn’t smiling, but there was a faint hint of amusement in the way his eyebrows raised slightly.
“The wards should have prevented that,” the man said, more to himself than to them. He glanced around the room, almost as if checking to make sure everything was still intact. “Interesting.”
Seraphine quickly moved to explain. “Headmaster! I’m so sorry, we—”
The Headmaster, who could only be the man standing before them, waved his hand dismissively. “No need to apologize, Seraphine. If anything, I should be impressed. Not many can bypass the arrays and wards in place here, certainly not an untrained student and an escort fresh from the field.”
Caelum swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the man’s gaze settle on him. This was the Headmaster. The one Seraphine had been speaking about—the one who had sent her to retrieve him from the mortal plain. And now they were standing in his office, apparently having bypassed all the magical protections in place. Caelum’s stomach tightened with anxiety, unsure of what that might mean.
“Sit, both of you,” the Headmaster said, gesturing toward two armchairs in front of his desk. His tone was calm, but there was an undeniable authority to it, as though he expected to be obeyed without question.
Seraphine sat quickly, her posture stiff and formal. Caelum followed suit, still feeling out of place in this world of magic. The chairs were surprisingly comfortable, though Caelum was too tense to relax.
The Headmaster took his seat behind the desk, steepling his fingers as he regarded them both. “Now,” he said slowly, “let’s hear the whole story. Start from the beginning, Seraphine.”
Seraphine glanced at Caelum, then back to the Headmaster. She took a deep breath and began to recount the events of the past day—the ambush in the café, the broken shifting ring, their time in the pocket dimension, and finally, how Caelum had somehow managed to shift them out of it without the artifact.
The Headmaster listened carefully, his expression unreadable. There was no reaction to the mention of the broken ring, no change in his demeanor when Seraphine described the ambush or the frantic shifts they had made to escape. He simply listened, as though taking in every detail, but never revealing his thoughts.
When Seraphine finished, she let out a small sigh, as if relieved to have gotten it all out in the open.
The Headmaster leaned back in his chair, his eyes shifting from Seraphine to Caelum. He studied him for a long moment, his gaze penetrating, as if trying to see something hidden just beneath the surface. Caelum squirmed slightly under the scrutiny, feeling exposed in a way he hadn’t before.
“So,” the Headmaster said finally, his voice calm and measured. “You managed to shift without the artifact.”
Caelum nodded, unsure of what to say.
The Headmaster leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Tell me, Caelum. How did it feel? What were you thinking when you performed the shift?”
Caelum hesitated, searching for the right words. “I... I don’t know,” he admitted. “It was like... I could just feel it. Like the knowledge was already there, waiting for me. I didn’t really think about it, I just... did it.”
The Headmaster’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t seem surprised. “Interesting,” he murmured. “Very interesting.”
He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small, shimmering mana stone, tossing it casually to Caelum. “Here, catch.”
Caelum’s reflexes kicked in, and he snatched the stone out of the air without thinking. The moment it touched his skin, the stone dissolved, the mana flowing into him in a smooth, effortless wave.
Seraphine gasped. “So fast!”
The Headmaster raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Fascinating. Most students can’t absorb a mana stone that quickly. Let’s try something else.”
He reached into the desk again and pulled out a mid-grade mana stone, tossing it to Caelum with the same casual motion. Caelum caught it, and once again, the mana disappeared almost instantly.
Seraphine stood up, her face pale with shock. “That’s... that’s not possible.”
The Headmaster’s expression remained calm, though there was a faint hint of amusement in his eyes. “Perhaps not for most,” he said, reaching into the desk one last time and pulling out a high-grade mana stone. He held it out to Caelum. “Try this one.”
Caelum took the stone, feeling the weight of it in his hand. This one was different—he could sense the immense power contained within it. He focused, drawing on the same instinct that had guided him before, and slowly, the stone began to dissolve. It was slower than the others, but still far faster than it should have been.
The Headmaster watched the process carefully, his expression thoughtful. “It seems you have an unusual gift,” he said quietly. “One that allows you to process mana at an extraordinary rate.”
Caelum looked up, uncertain of how to respond.
The Headmaster leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. “There’s more to this than just mana absorption,” he said. “I suspect your ability to internalize magic—like you did with the shifting ring—may be tied to this. When you touch an artifact, you’re not just using it. You’re absorbing its magical structure, its knowledge, and its power. That’s why the ring broke when you touched it.”
Caelum’s heart sank. “I didn’t mean to break it.”
The Headmaster waved his hand dismissively. “I know. And it’s not entirely your fault. You were mana-starved for so long in the mortal plain that your body has been overcompensating. It’s unlikely you’ll absorb every artifact you come in contact with, especially now that you’ve started absorbing mana at a normal rate.”
To test his theory, the Headmaster unexpectedly threw another small artifact toward Caelum, and he caught it instinctively. Nothing happened. The artifact remained intact, its magic untouched.
“See?” the Headmaster said with a small smile. “Now that you’re not starved for mana, there’s no involuntary reaction.”
Caelum let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. For the first time since arriving, he felt a small sense of relief. But as the Headmaster’s gaze shifted to Seraphine, that relief quickly faded.
“Seraphine,” the Headmaster said, his tone softening slightly. “You’ve done well in your mission. You can relax now. Take this as your reward.” He handed her a small ring, similar to the one she had worn before. “It’s a token of my appreciation for your service. You’re free to rest in your suite for the evening.”
Seraphine took the ring with a slight bow, though her eyes lingered on Caelum. There was something unreadable in her expression, a mixture of concern and... something else. She gave him a small nod before turning to the Headmaster. “Thank you,” she said softly, before excusing herself from the room.
As Seraphine left, the Headmaster turned his attention back to Caelum, his eyes serious. “Now, let’s talk about what comes next.”
As the door clicked shut behind Seraphine, the air in the room grew heavier, as if the atmosphere had shifted with her departure. Caelum felt the weight of the Headmaster’s gaze settle fully on him, the crackling fire in the background the only sound cutting through the silence.
The Headmaster leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with mild amusement, though there was a sharpness behind them. “You know, I’m slightly surprised you were able to shift directly into my office. I’ve placed some rather powerful wards here—ones that should have prevented such an occurrence. It seems there’s more to you than meets the eye, Caelum.”
Caelum blinked, taken aback by the comment. He hadn’t considered the possibility that they’d broken some sort of magical security system. “I didn’t mean to,” he admitted, still shaken from everything that had happened. “I just... followed what felt right.”
The Headmaster gave a small, knowing smile. “Perhaps it’s your connection to the Titan, or maybe it’s something more inherent to you. Either way, we’ll discover the full extent of your abilities soon enough.”
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
The words hung in the air, and Caelum’s heart thudded in his chest. He didn’t fully understand the weight of what the Headmaster was saying, but there was an underlying implication that set him on edge. The fire’s light flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
The Headmaster straightened up, a more serious expression crossing his features. “Now, we must discuss your abilities. You’ve already demonstrated an unusual capacity to absorb mana—and not just mana, but knowledge, too. That’s a rare gift, one that must be handled with care.”
Caelum leaned forward, anxious to hear more. “How does it work?” he asked quietly. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”
The Headmaster’s fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of his chair as he spoke. “Mana absorption is typically a controlled process—mages must refine and convert the raw energy they pull from the world around them. But you... You absorbed mana and knowledge directly from an artifact, something that usually takes years of practice to master. And you did it without any training.”
Caelum felt a mix of awe and fear rising within him. “So... is that dangerous?”
The Headmaster nodded solemnly. “It can be. When you absorb mana—especially from an artifact or powerful source—you’re taking in more than just raw energy. You’re ingesting the very essence of that magic, its design, its purpose. Without proper refinement, it can overwhelm you.”
Caelum’s heart sank. He had already felt the weight of what had happened when the ring broke, the influx of strange knowledge. “What should I do?”
The Headmaster’s eyes softened slightly. “First, you’ll need to control your absorption. Mana refinement, magical development, or what we sometimes call ‘private studies’ will be essential for you. You’ll need to practice—whether through meditation, writing in your grimoire, or physical disciplines like martial arts. This process helps mages like you manage the influx of power and knowledge.”
“Private studies,” Caelum repeated, his mind spinning. “So, I’ll have to practice on my own?”
“Not entirely alone,” the Headmaster replied. “There will be group studies and collaborative work here at the university. However, much of the deeper work—the understanding of your own power—comes from introspection. Different schools of thought will give you varying perspectives, but ultimately, it’s up to you to choose what works best.”
A soft chime suddenly broke the silence as the Headmaster picked up a small bell from his desk and rang it gently. Caelum blinked, and moments later, the door creaked open, and a shadow slid across the floor. From the shadow emerged a sleek black cat, its fur midnight-dark with one gold eye and one blue eye. The cat padded silently toward the Headmaster’s desk, its movements fluid and graceful.
“Ah, there she is,” the Headmaster said warmly. “My familiar. She’ll guide you to your suite.”
The cat regarded Caelum with a penetrating gaze, her mismatched eyes seeming to study him intently. She circled his chair once, then sat back on her haunches, waiting.
“There are basic materials in your room that will help with your private studies,” the Headmaster continued, “along with dinner, and tomorrow’s breakfast will be brought to you. You’ll meet your student mentor after breakfast, who will show you around the campus. Tomorrow evening, we will hold the banquet where your magical affinities will be tested. That will determine some of your natural strengths, though, from what I’ve seen, you may not fit easily into predefined categories.”
Caelum’s mind buzzed with questions, but before he could respond, the door opened again—this time more deliberately—and Seraphine stepped back into the room.
The Headmaster glanced at her in mild surprise. “Ah, Seraphine. I thought you had retired for the evening.”
Seraphine hesitated at the threshold, glancing between the Headmaster and Caelum. Her expression was more serious now, as if something had been weighing on her mind. “I had a few more questions, Headmaster, if you don’t mind,” she said, her tone quiet but firm.
The Headmaster nodded, gesturing for her to step inside. “Of course. Come, sit.”
She approached cautiously, taking the seat beside Caelum once more. Her violet eyes flickered with uncertainty, but she squared her shoulders and addressed the Headmaster with renewed confidence. “You mentioned Caelum’s abilities, and how unique they are. But what does this mean for him moving forward? What kind of danger is he in?”
The Headmaster’s expression softened as he regarded her. “Seraphine, I know you’ve grown attached to this situation. That’s to be expected, given what the two of you have gone through. But you need to understand—Caelum’s path is uncertain. His ability to absorb mana and knowledge is unlike anything I’ve seen in years.”
Seraphine’s gaze flickered toward Caelum, her brows furrowed with concern. “So... what should he do?”
The Headmaster sighed, leaning back in his chair. “He’ll need support—people who can guide him, challenge him, and keep him grounded. That could be you, Seraphine. After reviewing the circumstances, I believe it’s in Caelum’s best interest to have someone by his side who understands the magical world.”
Seraphine blinked, clearly taken aback. “Me?”
The Headmaster nodded. “Yes, you. I’m not asking you to be his teacher, but rather a companion. Someone to keep him from feeling lost in this new world. You’ve already proven your dedication by helping him this far.”
Seraphine’s lips pressed into a thin line, her thoughts clearly racing. “But... I’m just a student. I’m no expert.”
The Headmaster gave her a reassuring smile. “True, but you’re more experienced in the magical arts than Caelum, and you’ve already begun to build a rapport with him. That’s important.”
He reached into his robe and pulled out a small, delicate ring—a simple band with a faint shimmer of magic. He handed it to Seraphine. “Consider this your reward for a job well done. It’s a small token, but one you’ve earned. Now, go to your suite and rest. You’ll have plenty of time to think things over.”
Seraphine accepted the ring with a quiet nod, though her gaze lingered on Caelum, as if unsure of what to say next.
The Headmaster glanced between the two of them, sensing the unspoken tension. “Goodnight, Seraphine. You, too, will have dinner brought to your room.”
Seraphine hesitated for a moment, then stood, giving Caelum a small, uncertain smile. “Goodnight, Caelum.”
“Goodnight,” he replied softly, watching as she left the room once more.
As the door closed behind her, the Headmaster turned his full attention back to Caelum, his expression growing more serious. “Now then, Caelum. Let’s test something.”
Without warning, the Headmaster reached into his robe again and pulled out a small artifact—a faintly glowing orb—and tossed it to Caelum. Instinctively, Caelum caught it, his fingers wrapping around the smooth surface of the orb. Nothing happened. The orb remained intact, its magic undisturbed.
“Interesting,” the Headmaster mused, watching closely. “No absorption this time. That confirms my theory—you’ve already absorbed enough mana for now. Your body isn’t reacting to external magic the same way.”
Caelum exhaled in relief, handing the orb back to the Headmaster. “So, I’m not just going to accidentally absorb everything I touch?”
The Headmaster smiled faintly. “Not unless you’re mana-starved again. It seems your body was compensating for the lack of mana when you first arrived. Now that you’ve absorbed enough, the involuntary reactions should stop.”
Caelum nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. It wasn’t a complete solution, but it was reassuring to know he wouldn’t accidentally break every artifact he came into contact with.
The Headmaster leaned forward, his gaze softening. “You have a long journey ahead of you, Caelum. But you’ve made a good start. Remember what we’ve discussed tonight—about private studies, about control. It will take time, but I believe you have the potential to become something extraordinary.”
Caelum swallowed hard, nodding. “Thank you, Headmaster. I won’t let you down.”
The Headmaster’s smile was both warm and knowing, as though he already anticipated the many challenges Caelum would face. “I know you won’t, Caelum. But remember—potential is just that: potential. What you do with it is what matters.”
Caelum nodded, feeling the weight of the words settle within him. There was no turning back now. He had been thrust into this new world of magic, mystery, and danger, and it was clear that expectations were already high. But the thought of having Seraphine by his side—a friend, a guide—offered some measure of comfort.
The familiar, the sleek black cat with its mismatched eyes, rose from its seated position and padded gracefully to the door. She turned her head back toward Caelum, her gold and blue eyes gleaming in the flickering firelight as though she understood far more than any ordinary cat could.
“I believe my familiar is ready to show you to your suite,” the Headmaster said, his tone more relaxed now, as though the heavy matters had been discussed and he was shifting toward a more practical end to their meeting. “Follow her. She will lead you to the boys' dormitory and to your private room. There, you will find a few basic materials to assist in your private studies—books, a grimoire, and a small mana refinement tool.”
Caelum glanced down at the black cat, who gave a soft, impatient meow, before looking back at the Headmaster. “Thank you again, Headmaster. For everything.”
The Headmaster gave him a slight nod, a fatherly look of approval crossing his face. “Rest well, Caelum. Tomorrow, you will begin your journey here in earnest. Remember: pace yourself. And be cautious of how much attention you attract.”
With that, Caelum followed the familiar to the door, the silence between them punctuated only by the soft tap of the cat’s paws on the stone floor. As they exited the office, the door clicked shut behind him, and Caelum found himself in a long, dimly lit corridor, the walls lined with ancient tapestries and glowing runes. The air felt cooler here, and the faint hum of magic was ever-present.
The cat led the way confidently, weaving through the hallways of the university with the grace and fluidity of a creature well-accustomed to navigating the labyrinthine halls. Caelum followed closely, trying to take in his surroundings while grappling with the events of the evening. The sensation of mana still buzzed within him, like a subtle hum coursing through his body. It was both exhilarating and unsettling.
They climbed a set of spiral stairs, and soon enough, they arrived at the boys’ dormitory. The familiar padded down another narrow hallway before stopping in front of a polished wooden door with intricate carvings of magical symbols. The door clicked open on its own, and the cat stepped inside, waiting for Caelum to follow.
The room was modest, but comfortable. A large bed sat against one wall, and across from it was a sturdy wooden desk with several scrolls, books, and a small glowing crystal lamp. On the side, there was a window that overlooked the university grounds, though the view was shrouded in darkness. The air felt still, serene, as if this space was designed for contemplation and study.
The black cat jumped up onto the bed and curled into a tight ball, watching him with mismatched eyes. Caelum walked toward the desk, running his fingers over the smooth surface of the books and scrolls left for him.
One of the books caught his eye—a grimoire bound in dark leather, with faint runes etched into its cover. It felt ancient, as though countless mages before him had used ones just like it to record their own discoveries. He opened it, finding the first few pages blank, awaiting his own notes.
Next to the grimoire lay a small, delicate tool—a mana refinement crystal, designed to help mages channel and refine ambient mana with more precision. Caelum picked it up, feeling the faint hum of energy pulsing through it.
"Private studies," he muttered to himself, thinking back to the Headmaster's words. This was how it began.
There was still so much to learn, so much to understand about this new world and his place within it. But for now, he had been given a place to rest, resources to begin his magical development, and, most importantly, time to process everything.
The door creaked open again, and Caelum turned to see a servant entering the room, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of stew, a loaf of fresh bread, and a small pitcher of water. The smell of the food filled the room, reminding him of just how exhausted and hungry he was after the day's events.
The servant placed the tray on his desk, nodded politely, "just place your dishes in the dumbwaiter when you finish" and left without another word.
Caelum sat down at the desk, glancing at the cat still curled on the bed. "Looks like it's just you and me for now."
The cat didn’t respond, but it watched him with its sharp eyes, clearly observing more than its appearance suggested, then stood up and jumped into a shadow by the door disappearing. Caelum sighed and dug into his meal, grateful for the warmth and sustenance it provided.
As he ate, alone for the first time since this all began, his thoughts kept drifting back to the Headmaster's words—about his abilities, about the importance of control, and about the danger that lay ahead. Tomorrow, he would meet the other students, face the affinity tests, and begin to integrate into this new world. But tonight, as he finished his meal and sat down with the grimoire in front of him, he allowed himself to relax, just for a moment.
After all, this was just the beginning.
Caelum stood from the desk and approached the bed, his body finally registering the weariness that had been gnawing at him since the day before. He lay down, staring up at the ceiling, trying to push away the endless questions swirling in his mind.
His thoughts drifted to Seraphine and the strange bond they seemed to share. Though they had only known each other for a short time, it felt as though they had already been through so much together. What would tomorrow bring? And what kind of relationship would they develop as they both navigated the complex world of magic?
As his mind wandered, exhaustion finally took over, and Caelum drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, the steady hum of mana still thrumming gently beneath his skin.