It had been about a week since the Familiar Rites Ceremony.
Since then, everything felt different. Like something invisible had shifted beneath the surface of Umbra Arcanum. Our days were filled with scroll readings, silent meditations, and sparring exercises that left us bruised in body and mind—but this morning felt... different.
Sunlight streamed through the enchanted glass of the eastern tower, painting colors across the stone corridor as we made our way to the edge of the academy's southern wing.
Today, we had Thaumapathic Combat Theory and Application, taught by the ever-eccentric and mildly terrifying Professor Dreamscape.
I walked beside Mark, Isaiah, Bruce, Fay, and Emilia—our usual crew. Alexandra wasn't with us; she was off handling third-year responsibilities. Honestly, her absence made this feel even more ominous.
As we stepped into the arched classroom, I caught myself staring out the massive stained-glass window that overlooked the treeline of the forest.
Wonder what we're doing today... I thought absently.
Vulpis stirred in the back of my mind, his voice smooth and playful. Probably something chaotic like last time.
Haha… hopefully not, I replied with a mental sigh.
The room quieted as Professor Dreamscape entered like a breeze in human form—his robes billowing, his boots silent, his presence unmistakable.
He didn't even stand behind the desk like usual. Instead, he walked to the very center of the room and turned to face us, hands clasped behind his back.
"Students," he said, his voice as casual as if we were discussing weather, "today's class will be... different."
No one moved.
"No scrolls. No scribing. No simulated combat fields. And definitely no mental projection duels."
We looked at each other. That didn't sound like a good kind of different.
Professor Dreamscape's smile deepened, his eyes sparkling like someone on the verge of revealing a particularly juicy secret.
"I think it's time you all got a taste of the real thing."
The room collectively held its breath.
He leaned forward slightly, almost conspiratorially. "Today, we head to the forest. A live field test. Unscripted. Unpredictable. Unforgiving."
Even Bruce, who was usually too tired to register panic, let out a nervous gulp. Mark looked ready to bolt. Emilia shifted in her seat, her fingers twitching toward her familiar. Fay muttered something under her breath about regretting waking up.
Professor Dreamscape clapped his hands once.
"Get ready. You leave in ten."
And just like that, the air snapped with tension.
The Forest Trials were about to begin.
We gathered outside the towering, castle-sized academy, the rising sun casting long shadows over the stone courtyards as groups of students assembled in hushed anticipation.
From there, we made our way down the winding path toward the infamous Forest of Ordeals—a place every student whispered about but few dared to enter alone.
This wasn't just a training ground. It was a trial by Thauma and terror.
As we approached the forest's boundary, I felt my breath hitch. The entire perimeter was wrapped in a thick, swirling gray fog, like something alive was watching us from beyond. Every tree was a silhouette, looming behind veils of mist. No birdsong. No breeze. Just silence that pressed in from all sides.
It feels like the forest is breathing, I thought.
A cold, crawling sensation crept up my spine just standing near it—like invisible fingers brushing across my skin.
Then, with a dramatic puff of smoke, Professor Dreamscape appeared at the front of our group, his robes as untamed as ever.
"Come, come," he said, waving us forward with a theatrical flourish. "We now commence the Forest Trials—combat application in the field, real conditions, no illusions."
His voice dropped, more serious now.
"You will be in the Forest of Ordeals for three days and two nights. You are expected to survive, strategize, and demonstrate everything you've learned up to this point. This isn't just about magic—it's about awareness, synergy, and will."
A collective breath rippled through the students.
"You'll be split into teams of four," he continued, "based on your dormmates. That's who you'll rely on—and who you'll carry, should things go poorly."
I turned to Mark, Isaiah, and Bruce.
"So that means... we're together," I said, trying to keep the nervous energy out of my voice.
Isaiah gave a slow nod. Mark adjusted his collar like it was choking him. Bruce didn't say anything—but his hand was already gripping the handle of his wand-blade.
And beyond the fog, the forest waited.
Professor Dreamscape clapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the clearing like a spell igniting.
"There are sixty-five of you in this class," he began, his voice sharp and full of unspoken warning. "You've been divided into sixteen teams of four—one team will have a floater. These groups are based on your dorm assignments, so if you've been stuck with someone snoring, well… too late now."
A few students chuckled nervously.
"This trial," he continued, sweeping his hand toward the gray-fog-drenched forest, "is a compass hunt."
Murmurs spread across the crowd.
"Four locations deep within the Forest of Ordeals each house a Cardinal Fragment—North, East, South, and West. Your task: find one of these fragments and return it to this clearing."
He paused, letting the weight of it settle.
"Once four teams retrieve a fragment each, we'll assemble them to form a complete Thauma Compass."
I felt Vulpis twitch on my shoulder, his ink-furred ears flicking in quiet concern.
"But this won't be a stroll through a haunted park," Dreamscape said, his tone darkening. "The forest is alive. And it is not kind."
"You'll face beasts, ghosts, feral spirits, even vampiric wanderers still trapped in old rites. Some things in there don't bleed, and some don't need to."
A tense silence fell over us.
"You'll need to be clever. Tactical. And most importantly—together. Don't try to be heroes. Try to be alive."
He let that linger, then smirked.
"Any questions? No? Good. The fog will open to your paths in ten minutes. Get your teams ready."
Mark, Isaiah, Bruce, and I huddled together in a tight circle, our voices low as we began forming a strategy.
"Stick close. Watch each other's backs. And no wandering off," I said, trying to sound confident even though my stomach felt like it was doing flips.
"Obvious rules, but good to repeat," Mark nodded, eyes sharp.
Bruce stretched his arms. "Hope my familiar doesn't freak out again like last time."
"Hope you don't," Isaiah muttered under his breath, smirking.
I couldn't help but chuckle before glancing over my shoulder. Nearby, I spotted Fay standing with her dormmates—Ruby, Stephanie, and Yuki—each one already geared up and discussing something quietly. A few paces beyond them stood Emilia, part of a group from House of Turning: Diana, Audrey, and Michelle. Their expressions were focused, calm, composed.
The calm before the storm.
Suddenly, a sound stirred to our right.
The air shifted. Every student froze as a hush fell over the clearing. Before us, the gray fog that had clung to the forest like a living wall began to ripple… and part. Slowly, silently, it opened a path wide enough for all teams to enter—like a great mouth yawning open, hungry for what was to come.
Professor Dreamscape took a step forward, his voice cutting like a blade through the heavy silence.
"The Forest of Ordeals welcomes you," he said. "Once inside... I will not save you."
His gaze swept over us, and for the briefest moment, his eyes locked with mine. No smile. No games. Only warning.
"Enter with resolve—or don't enter at all."
We didn't need a second prompt.
Mark, Isaiah, Bruce, and I stepped forward together, our familiars trailing close behind.
The path into the mist was dark, shadowed, and choked with silence... but something inside me stirred.
These next three days were going to change us.
And somewhere, deep in that cursed forest, something was already watching.