Headmaster Caelus Darion of Aetherion Academy was not a man easily impressed, but few things delighted him more than the day before the entrance ceremony. In his office, nestled in the heart of the academy’s sprawling main spire, he stood by a small kitchenette brewing his morning coffee. The rich aroma filled the room, blending with the faint hum of magical wards that protected every corner of the ancient structure.


    Caelus, with his silver-streaked hair and sharp, penetrating eyes, was a figure of quiet authority. Renowned for the near-legendary spells he had crafted in his youth, he had long since left the frontlines of magical innovation for the equally demanding role of shaping the future’s brightest minds. His office, though perpetually cluttered with paperwork and arcane artifacts, offered a commanding view of the academy grounds—a view he rarely had time to enjoy.


    Today, however, was a day he cherished. The day before the entrance ceremony was typically when prospective students tested their newly created wands, often with results that ranged from spectacular to disastrous. It was raw magic at its most unrefined, and Caelus relished the chance to witness the potential of the next generation.


    As the kettle began to whistle, he carefully poured the boiling water over the grounds, relishing the quiet precision of the task. Letting his mind wander, he extended his mana outward, weaving it through the streets and far into the city beyond. The faint hum of magical energy came to him as he tuned into the scattered young talents, each hard at work perfecting their craft.


    In a quiet forest on the city’s edge, a young girl moved gracefully through the trees, her wand faintly glowing as animals gathered around her. Birds flitted to her shoulders, and small woodland creatures padded at her feet, seemingly enthralled by her presence.


    Caelus smiled into his cup. “Interesting. A nature specialist, perhaps? Haven’t seen one in years.” He watched as the girl coaxed a bird to perch on her outstretched wand, her movements fluid and precise. “Tuning oneself to nature’s rhythm—an art most overlook in favor of raw power. Subtle, yet profound.”


    Returning to his desk—an eternal battlefield of paperwork—he grabbed his chair and carried it toward the large window that overlooked the academy grounds. The sunlight streaming through the glass painted golden streaks across the polished floor.


    As he set the chair down, he carelessly misjudged the angle. The chair wobbled, and before he could react, he tripped over one of its legs. His coffee flew from his hand, arcing through the air in a tragic display before splattering across the floor. Caelus stumbled to his feet with a groan, glaring at the mess. “Brilliant,” he muttered, fetching a cloth to clean the spill.


    A moment passed and he had found himself back at his desk, grabbing from behind it the same chair, and carrying it toward the window just as he had done once before.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    As he set the chair down, he paused, recalling previously when he’d carelessly tripped and spilled his coffee. A quiet chuckle escaped him as he adjusted the chair more carefully this time, settling into it with a sigh. “I’ll have to thank that time-wielder someday,” he mused, savoring the warm brew.


    From his perch by the window, he continued to observe the flurry of activity across the city. A boy on a rooftop conjured jagged shards of ice, launching them with pinpoint accuracy at floating targets. Nearby, a pair of girls sparred in a plaza, one commanding swirling torrents of water while the other deftly countered with bursts of crackling lightning. In a quieter corner, a student stood amidst a circle of glowing sigils, summoning intricate, glowing constructs that flickered briefly before vanishing into wisps of light. He marveled at the sheer variety of talents—some wielding raw, elemental power, others crafting delicate illusions or bending the rules of reality itself.


    The hours slipped by as he watched, his heart swelling with anticipation for the year ahead. But just as he was about to withdraw his senses and return to his desk, something caught his attention.


    A glowing red light ascended high above the city, cutting through the evening sky like a burning ember. The headmaster frowned, his sharp eyes narrowing as the light hovered for a moment, suspended unnaturally, before descending back to the ground as quietly as it had risen.


    A prickle of unease crept up his spine. He leaned forward, setting his cup down as he focused intently on the area where the light had disappeared. The tranquil scene below seemed undisturbed, but the ominous feeling in his chest remained. He sighed, the weight of anticipation settling over him like a heavy cloak. Caelus knew then and there—his quiet morning had come to an abrupt end.


    And then, it happened.


    The ground trembled as a deafening explosion shattered the stillness. A column of fire erupted from the city’s outskirts, tearing through the few closest buildings in its path and casting a hellish glow across the skyline. The headmaster shot to his feet, his coffee forgotten as the force of the blast rattled the very spire he stood in. Alarms began to sound across Illumnis, their piercing tones cutting through the rising chaos.


    Looking closer, Caelus focused his senses on the chaos near the explosion’s epicenter. Among the smoldering debris, two boys stood out. One, sporting charred forging attire and a soot-streaked face, was doubled over in uncontrollable laughter, his shoulders shaking with manic glee. The other boy stood frozen, his jaw practically on the ground as he stared at the destruction before them.


    From the nearby village, an older man came sprinting toward the scene, his face red with a mix of fury and panic. Without hesitation, he delivered an impressively loud smack to the back of the laughing boy’s head. The sound echoed even in the distant headmaster’s ears.


    The mad boy winced, curling slightly in fear, but the triumphant grin never left his face. He sidestepped behind the still-gaping boy, using him as a halfhearted shield. “Come on, Kiran, save me!” he joked, peeking out from behind his friend with a smug look that bordered on daring.


    Caelus sighed, rubbing his temples as he leaned back from the window. His gaze shifted to the cluttered desk behind him, the stacks of paperwork suddenly feeling heavier. “It’s going to be a long year,” he muttered, already preparing himself for the inevitable chaos as he turned toward the never-ending pile of responsibilities awaiting him.