"Absinthe, wake up!"

"Wuh… what? Assassins?" Despite being a little groggy from the alcohol, Absinthe tries to plunge his arm into a shadow, preparing to draw his weapon. But he realizes that there's no darkness around him.

"No, idiot, look outside."

His reflection startles him, slightly. Absinthe has always had a superstition about reflective surfaces... feeling as if a malevolent creature could slip out from the other side at any moment. And to be fair, it has before.

But, his vision clears and Absinthe draws a gasp as the view outside the glass amazes him. The weather is bright and clear, providing a breath-taking view of the grandiose "Capital of Magic", Magdellien.

The city expands before them, in an array of colorful shops, temples, and towers. Magdellien's pristine roads, the veins of the city, are laden with traders and people. Even though the train is still high in the air, Absinthe is able to sense the sheer vibrancy of the city.

Then Absinthe notices it, on a colossal mountain peak near the far reaches of the city is a fortress. No… it's a mistake to say the fortress is on the mountain, rather the fortress is the mountain.

The mountain looks similar to a layered birthday cake or a terraced hill, with layers of walls and towers bearing flags stacked on top of each other. These walls layer and climb up to the peak of the mountain, set by a massive spire with a silver bell at the top. Absinthe can faintly see it, but one of the tallest buildings under the spire is some sort of ballroom, with furnished balconies protruding gracefully.

Embedded into the massive walls are long, slightly-amber windows that stretch downwards, giving a view of the structure's insides. Many floors are present behind each wall.

Colorful banners hang from the fortress's walls, as well as floating islands that are attached to the main mountain via enchanted bridges.

Around the mountain are ferry ships that float up towards hovering docks in the middle and high layers, like bees surrounding their hive.

It could be considered probably the largest and grandest structure in Adaemos's long history, rivaling even the Royal Family's palace that sits elegantly and grandly near the center of the city.

Absinthe stared in awe at the magnificent fortress before him, a masterpiece of architecture that dwarfed any palace he had ever seen. The more he looked, the more details he noticed - the way the sunlight reflected off the amber windows, the graceful curve of the balconies, and the enchanted bridges that connected the fortress to floating islands. He could even make out the silhouettes of people moving about within the walls, as if inviting him to uncover the secrets hidden within.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" Melchior's voice broke through Absinthe's reverie.

"Yeah… no kidding," Absinthe whispers gazing outside longingly, "if we pass the Practical Entrance Exams… this will be our school for the next four years!"

Absinthe's eyes widened at the thought, trying to take in every detail of the magnificent structure before him. The prospect of studying at Vivil Sanatoria, the greatest magical academy in Adaemos, was both exhilarating and intimidating. He couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation, a desire to prove himself and make his mark in this illustrious institution. The gleaming towers and colorful banners stirred something deep within him, a sense of purpose and ambition he hadn't felt before.

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He glanced at Melchior, who shared his brother's awe and excitement. Absinthe tore his gaze away from the breathtaking vista and looked at his brother. Melchior's eyes sparkled with anticipation, reflecting the same emotions Absinthe felt. They had a chance to change their family's tainted legacy, to prove themselves in the face of adversity. And it all started with the Practical Entrance Exams at Vivil Sanatoria.

"You ready for this, Absinthe?" Melchior asked, a note of determination in his voice.

Absinthe nodded, taking a deep breath. "I am, Mel." The AetherRail's gentle sway and the rhythmic hum of the Nivalite engine continued, unperturbed by Absinthe's inner turmoil. The landscape outside the window unfurled like an intricate tapestry, the rolling hills and towering spires a stark contrast to the tumultuous thoughts swirling within him. The weight of his family's legacy, the burden of their tainted reputation, and the expectations that came with being an il Salinger heir bore down on him like a tangible force.

As the train glided through the skies, Absinthe found himself lost in thought, his gaze drifting between the window and the ring on his finger.

The train continues to cruise until the whistle in the front screeches. With a lurch, the train begins its descent to the aetherRails. The bones in Absinthe and Melchior's bodies shudder as the train docks in the station.

Absinthe takes in the bustling scene outside the train window. The aetherRail station was a cacophony of sounds and colors, with travelers and magical creatures alike converging in a flurry of activity. As he gathered his belongings, his thoughts returned to the task ahead. The Practical Entrance Exams loomed, a daunting challenge that would test not only his magical abilities, but also his resolve to prove himself worthy of his family's legacy. He glanced over at Melchior, who seemed equally contemplative, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.

Melchior's legs feel wobbly after sitting for hours on end. He hobbles out of his seat, making some space for Absinthe.

The two brothers gather their suitcases before stepping out to the magiStation. As they walk through the crowds of people, Absinthe notes that many of them are his and Melchior's age.

"These people are taking the Entrance Exam too, aren't they?"

Melchior nods, bringing his suitcase closer to him. "Yeah, these guys are no joke." He flips open his pocket watch with his offhand. "We have two hours or so before the test begins, so we can take our time."

Absinthe nods, taking in the diversity of the crowd. He sees students with various skin tones, hair colors, and attires, each carrying themselves with a unique air of confidence and determination. He notices a group of students huddled together, practicing incantations under their breath, while others rehearse complex spell-casting movements. Absinthe curiously wonders how he stacks up against these apparent prodigies.

From the ground below, spirits flow silently, passing through the crowd.

They don't speak any words or seem to have a specific destination in mind. In fact, no one seems to know where they come from, only that spirits, wraiths, and poltergeists have started appearing after the Shattering War.