Dawn unfurled like a golden ribbon over the Mysterious Academy.
A thousand hopefuls stood before the arched obsidian gates, their breaths clouding in the morning chill. The courtyard buzzed with magical murmurs, enchanted birds carrying scrolls across towers, sigils lighting up beneath marble tiles, and floating lanterns blinking rhythmically in preparation.
The entrance exam was moments away.
Above the grand courtyard, a gallery hovered midair—an enchanted dais for the academy's staff. Professors and instructors lined its edge, each emanating quiet confidence and restrained power.
Among them stood legends.
Professor Virelith, cloaked in embers, radiated heat that shimmered the air around her. Professor Dossel, the Gravity Weaver, floated inches above the floor. Instructor Maelin, with her symphonic wind magic, played a flute that tuned the exam grounds' wards.
The crowd of students fidgeted, whispered, and stared with wide eyes.
Then came Headmistress Nova.
Draped in midnight silk laced with starlight thread, she walked to the center of the dais. Her gaze swept across the sea of students—and they fell silent.
She raised her hand.
With a flick of her fingers, her 9th-Circle magic bloomed.
A pressure blanketed the world. Space bent. Colors dulled. Even the wind halted, as if the air itself waited in reverence. For one heartbeat, all creation seemed to pause.
Then it passed.
Students exhaled. Some wept quietly. A few sat down involuntarily. Nova simply smiled.
"Welcome to the Mysterious Academy."
---
Among the students, five stood out like blades in a field of grass.
Olivia Virelith, daughter of fire and pride, clenched her fist, her crimson sigil pulsing faintly.
Velis Noxen, a boy from the Shadowstep clans, narrowed his eyes behind his veil. "Even light fears her," he murmured.
Rye Grell, broad-shouldered and grim, muttered, "That was the 9th Circle? Then what's the 10th?"
Saria Vonn, nature-touched, knelt to calm a jittery mana wisp at her ankle.
Kirin Zecht, lightning-born and far too smug, grinned despite the tension. "Good. Wouldn't want to pass an easy test."
---
Then—a flutter. A ripple in the fabric of presence.
Someone was approaching.
The crowd turned.
A man in a dark academic robe wandered through the outer gates, holding a thermos of cold tea. He looked mildly confused. His silver hair was tousled. His expression: thoughtful, if a little sleepy.
Aaron Aetherwyn had arrived.
He looked up at the floating dais and blinked. "Oh. Am I late?"
Several candidates stepped aside instinctively.
Aaron noticed. Are they clearing the way for someone important?
He stepped forward.
The moment he passed the threshold of the courtyard, his aura brushed the exam grounds.
Silence.
A wave of invisible force blanketed the plaza. Every protective rune flared. Several students dropped to one knee. Olivia's fire sputtered. Velis vanished into his shadow out of instinct. Kirin's smirk vanished. Even Nova—the unshakable Headmistress—stiffened.
It was like the sky pressed down.
Aaron, of course, didn't notice.
He waved at the professors. "Sorry, I had trouble finding the staff bathroom. Very twisty hallways."
No one answered.
The instructors looked toward Nova. Her hand hovered near a warding sigil. Kaelen stood beside her, teeth clenched.
"Should we... do something?" an instructor whispered.
Nova whispered back, "Just watch."
Aaron took another step forward.
A summoned bird exploded into raw mana overhead.
He flinched. "Oh no. I must've startled it. Do we get penalized for that?"
He bowed apologetically toward the crowd. Several students recoiled.
Aaron frowned. Was that not the custom here? Did I bow wrong?
He took a seat at the edge of the platform, pulling out a biscuit from his coat.
Rye Grell leaned toward Saria. "What level... is he?"
Saria whispered, "I can't see it. It's like the mana refuses to classify him."
Velis emerged halfway from his shadow, whispering, "He's suppressing himself. Not because he wants to—because he has to."
Olivia didn't speak. Her hand hovered over her flame crest. The fire within her stilled, afraid to breathe.
---
Up on the dais, Kaelen whispered, "He thinks he's a junior professor."
Nova's eyes glittered. "He is."
Kaelen's mouth twitched. "That's what makes this worse."
---
Aaron munched his biscuit, scanning the crowd.
No one's talking to me, he thought. Maybe I look too strict. Or maybe they don't like tea?
He wrote in his notebook:
> "Note: Try smiling more. Possibly bring donuts to class."
---
The bell tolled. A deep, thunderous chime that echoed into the hills.
"Stage One will begin shortly," Nova announced.
All candidates turned to the gates leading to the theory halls.
Aaron stood to follow the other staff, but everyone silently parted to give him a wide, reverent path.
He nodded politely. "Thank you. Very kind."
Behind him, whispered nicknames began to spread:
"The Calm Calamity."
"The Softspoken End."
"Professor Doom."
Aaron walked into the morning light, utterly unaware.
---
[End of Chapter 24]