Nycea.

A beautiful land of green forests, turquoise waters and white cities, governed by a republic that honored the memory of the Warriors of Justice, known as the Ancient Twelve.

Twelve people who had fought and triumphed against all kinds of dangerous monsters, from undead creatures to dangerous dragons and everything in between, and had earned a quite literal immortality. They would no longer age, and they were known to have spread out through the Estyrian Kingdoms after disbanding over a century ago.

Arwin, the swordsman. Ophelia, the priestess. Olaf, the shield. Garnet, the assassin. Lang, the monk. Enzo, the druid. Cervantes, the sorcerer. Violetta, the archer. Masinisa, the lancer. Cleo, the alchemist. Lucille, the beast tamer. Larissa, the dancer.

These Twelve were revered across the land and speaking ill of them would carry the inevitable consequence of being considered an evil person. What other explanation could there be, if not that, to explain why someone would be against those who selflessly put their lives at risk for others?

These people paved the way through their unimaginable exploits and had set the region -especially Nycea- towards its path of prosperity. Among them, Cervantes was considered to be the strongest of the Twelve. However, he had died a tragic death during one of their adventures, and the other eleven carried on for a short while before finally disbanding.

Their current whereabouts were unknown and they did not make themselves public, leaving scholars and politicians scratching their heads as to where could they be and what were they doing.

Two things were for certain, though: first, they were alive somewhere.

And second, they had to die.

That's what Sharmon had told Nero.

The evil sorcerer who was an enemy of the Ancient Twelve.

The boy's familiar, bound to him by blood and soul, had used his summoning as an escape tool from the arcane prison he had been sealed in so many years ago, and it was too late for him to regret anything now.

Nero, too, would sooner or later become an enemy of the Twelve. This, according to Sharmon, was an inevitability.

Understandably, this state of affairs was extremely stress-inducing for someone as prone to anxiety as Nero was, and that's where half his thoughts were as he looked at himself in the mirror.

He was wearing the Nycean College Of Mages' official uniform. White shirt, long-sleeved red coat, grey pants, black shoes. A black tie complemented his outfit.

"How do I look?", he asked to the man in black behind him.

"It makes you look like a snobby brat.", said Sharmon.

It was no secret to Nero that his familiar was fond of black clothes in general.

Then again, Sharmon's taste for aesthetics was... unique, to put it mildly.

His dark attire made him seem like he had come straight out of one of Nero's gothic murder mystery novels, with his black coat, top hat, black leather boots and gloves, and silver metal mask.

Every time it rained, no matter the place nor the time of the day, Nero would always feel like Sharmon belonged there. Such weather matched his grim atmosphere to the point where it almost looked like the sorcerer was a product of it; the kind of sinister figure you'd run into when walking down a narrow alley on a dark, rainy night.

The boy sighed.

It had been three weeks since he had returned to Nycea. Much to no one's surprise, his grandmother scolded him like crazy for not writing and sat him to copy a particularly long and boring book as punishment. However, Nero had other things in mind and completed the task in record time: the book was ready after only five days. During that period, Ferguson sent his letter to the College, and the following day Nero had received a letter from the institution...

Esteemed participant Nero,

Your efforts in Armorica have reached us through a report written by your guide and observer, listed as follows:

- Befriended the local community of Trena, tightening the bonds between them and our College

- Assisted your fellow participant in healing a farmer's wounds

- Purged a den of dangerous animals, as per formally requested

- Retrieved and gave proper burial to a victim of said animals

- Cleared the southern road of plagued beasts

- Performed a magic show for the entertainment of the townsfolk

- Cleared the northern waters of Armorica of pirates

- Offered work and increased the economic activity in town by organizing a celebration

- Chased away a dark beast

The Nycean College Of Mages is largely impressed by these exploits, and considers your brief stay in Armorica a tremendous success. For this reason, and after serious consideration, we have decided to accept your scholarship application. We would be delighted to endorse and further nurture your development as a magician, as we consider you to have the potential to have a very positive impact on the lives of others.

You are to present yourself in thirteen days time at the College gates with your familiar. The standard uniform will be delivered to your address via package in less than ten days. Please make sure to be wearing it during your first day.

We wish you a pleasant rest in the following days, and look forward to your formal induction as one of our precious students.

Best regards,

Arlana - Headmaster of the Nycean College Of Mages

P.S.: your ferrywoman also wrote us a letter of recommendation and asked us to assign her to you in the future should the need for a boat arise. We have also taken this into consideration as part of your exploits.

Fast forward those two weeks there was Nero, trying out the uniform the College had sent him on the morning his first day as a student.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Well, I say fast forward, but in reality Nero had been anything but resting during this period. Correspondence between him, Ferguson, Elena and Araven had been regular; the captain had showed them her small floor in Port Hope the day they had docked and taken most of everybody's gold for safekeeping. Nero decided to bring a few gold coins with himself, some to share with his grandma and some others for himself, should he need it.

Sharmon had refused to give Nero any more information on himself, saying the boy would find out after they met the Eleven, and instead spent most of their free time training him in the arts.

That's the term the sorcerer oftentimes would use to refer to magic. Specifically, combat magic.

Not wanting to waste this opportunity, Nero had asked Sharmon to teach him more about the counterspell he had seen back at the crawler's cave. The sorcerer indulged him, though he decided to help the boy learn and cultivate his arcana reserves further before doing that. On the morning of his departure to the College, Nero still hadn't learned the spell, but his arcana reserves had largely grown, and his control -which Sharmon said mattered the most- had sharpened exponentially, helped in no small measure by the practical experiences in Armorica.

To Nero, it felt like it had been an eternity since he had last had a lesson with his familiar, and it felt very refreshing. It also helped that his grandma would cook him delicious meals -especially now that they had a little bit of money to spare, for a change- and that his bath was ready every morning.

The boy had grown attached to Armorica and its people during his third exam, but nothing beat the feeling of being back home, and even though Nero lived a less than luxurious life, the experience had put his life into a whole new perspective.

Nero had learned to appreciate the life grandma Lonia had given him, and shuddered to think what could have been of him had the old lady decided not to take him in.

This newfound gratitude for her is what compelled him to accept her scolding in spite of being successful and bringing in some much needed money and copying that damn book even though his thoughts were far away from the small room where he used to work.

The life his grandma had given him was less than perfect and not even remotely abundant, but that was just fine. Nero was happy with very little.

Breaking the news of his acceptance into the College had been a little bit of a situation, though. It seemed that, for all her support, grandma Lonia was half-expecting Nero to simply fail at the end of it all and was trying to make use of the bookstore's boost in popularity for as long as it lasted.

At any moment, Nero could close his eyes and remember the reaction his grandma had had when he read the letter aloud to her: her face deflated and grew long, as if gravity was giving her a harder time, her back was more crooked than usual since that day, she dragged her feet in a heavier manner, like they weighed more, and her eyes were in a constant state of being half-closed, like she hadn't slept enough.

To someone who didn't know her, she hadn't changed at all: it was just an old lady being an old lady, but Nero had grown under the same roof as her, and could tell this things.

Nero felt a little guilty about it, but what could he do?

...at any rate, it was time for him to go.

Nero grabbed his bag and walked outside -it was still before dawn- and re-entered the bookstore from the front, forcing the old lady to face him from the other side of the counter. The store hadn't opened yet, so it was just the three of them.

"Grandma. I'll be going, now."

"Look, don't worry. I will write. I promise. And I'll come every weekend I have off."

His grandma raised her hand, telling him off, but didn't say a word.

Nero pressed his lips, turned around and got ready to trek north to the College, but stopped at the threshold.

"I'm doing this for you too, grandma.", he said, looking over his shoulder, "I wish you'd understand that instead of resenting me for doing what my heart tells me to."

He walked out, closing the door behind him, and began to walk in silence, followed closely by his familiar.

"I told you that day, boy.", said Sharmon, "she never truly believed in you."

Nero hated to admit it, but the sorcerer had been right, at least partially.

"I care about her. She's too old to be working so many hours, but won't quit even though we have enough money now.", said Nero, slightly upset.

"Raising a child makes a guardian used to educating and not to being educated.", said Sharmon, "to her, you will always be a little kid who knows nothing."

"And what should I do?"

"Keep working hard, boy. Harvesting the fruits of your efforts will be an undeniable proof of you being right."

"I already have! We got the coins!"

"Then, there is nothing you can do, boy. If she wishes to see this as an abandonment, then so be it. You cannot afford to give up on your dreams for the sake of protecting a feeble grandmother from her own jealousy."

"Hey. Be nice."

"I am not attempting to make an enemy out of your grandmother, boy. I am simply reminding you that if you give up on your dreams for others' happiness, then you will be renouncing your own. And why would your misery bring about happiness to them, anyway? Should you really be giving them, and not others, your time, your hard-earned money and your care?"

Nero couldn't argue against the sorcerer this time, but didn't take out his frustrations on him. His familiar had told the boy to accept reality for what it was one too many times for him to simply get angry and throw a tantrum in denial.

"I still owe her this.", said Nero, moving his hands in front of his uniform and signifying his career as a mage had officially started, as endorsed by the Nycean state.

"That may be true, boy, but do not forget that this -he also emphasized that word- is merely a collateral effect that she could not have predicted and did not wish for."

"Yeah, I know that already."

"You owe this to yourself, and even myself, as much. Never forget this."

"It's not like I can; you keep reminding me every other day."

The duo walked the usual trek to the College in relative silence, Nero addressing only the people that approached him to congratulate him on passing his exams.

"I knew you would make it ever since the chess game!"

"That uniform looks good on you. Go on and make the College proud."

Such were the comments Nero got from the people. Sharmon, on the other hand...

"Will you have a lot of free time while the boy is studying? I'd love to have a chat over a cup of tea sometime..."

Yep. He was still popular with the ladies -especially the married ones, for some reason- and no girls paid attention to the summoner, married or no.

Ah, how refreshing it was to be reminded that in this ever changing world, some things seemed to always stay the same...

Was it too much to ask for a cute girlfriend? Was it his fate to remain a tragically lonely soul...?

Nero sighed.

Bah, whatever.

The pair walked out of Nycea through the road to the College, and soon enough they found themselves at the gates of the academy only a few minutes before the first light of day.

As usual, two men sharing a single desk stood guard in front of the open wooden gates, which were flanked by two very bright torches.

...and to add to the feeling of déjà vu, a very short, red-headed girl was pacing about near the guards, but not close enough to talk to them.

Instead of a white kimono, however, she was wearing the female standard uniform, which included a very similar white shirt and coat, a grey skirt, black socks and shoes, and a small ribbon. She was also carrying a black suitcase, much more elegant than Nero's brown linen bag.

Her long hair fell behind her back, with a few strands over her chest to the sides; it looked clean, combed and arranged in a manner that could only be described as immaculate.

"Morning, Luna.", said Nero.

"Eek...!", the girl jolted in surprise and turned around, "ah... good morning, Nero."

She bowed.

It was refreshing to seer her in those clothes; the uniform looked better on her than on him.

Nero smiled at her. He knew she had passed her third exam just fine; Araven had told him everything she and Rina had done together through letters during the small break they got in Nycea.

"Why are you alone every time I see you here?", he laughed.

"Ah... I was already dropped off here... I just... I was waiting for someone."

"Who were you waiting for?"

"Um... maybe Rina?"

What do you mean, "maybe"?

"Well, if she's coming with Araven, chances are they'll barely make it on time. That guy tends to oversleep, and I can't see her leaving him behind, so I'd advice you to go in."

"Then... can I go with you?"

"Yeah, sure."

Nero approached the guards, gave them the letter Arlana had written to him, and the two men took a minute to examine it before returning it.

"Everything's in order. You're very early, I'd advice you to head to the central fountain and wait there; this place is gonna get crowded real soon.", said the guard that was standing up.

"Thanks. Luna, your turn."

She nodded, and gave the guards the letter that had been addressed to her, which basically had the same format as his.

"Both of you are good to go. Welcome to the College."

Nero nodded, Luna bowed to them, and the pair walked past the post accompanied by the first ray of light and followed closely by the sorcerer. For the first time, they stepped into College grounds not as participants, but as official students.

Their new life on campus began now.