The last of the food vanished from Ethan's plate, dissolving into a flicker of warm golden light that shimmered and faded in the air.
He blinked down at the now-empty tray. "...Okay, still not used to that."
Kai stood, brushing crumbs from his coat. "Get used to it fast. You've got about five seconds before the bell—"
"—and there it is," he added with a grimace.
Aiden rose too, casually adjusting the cuffs on his uniform. "Time for the surprise class."
Ethan groaned, leaning back in his chair. "Right. The mysterious mystery of mystery lessons. I think I'll just go back to the dorm and maybe not die today."
Kai snorted. "You skipping the new mandatory class?"
"It's not on the schedule," Ethan countered.
"Yeah, 'cause they announced it this morning," Aiden said with just the right amount of smugness. "Which you'd know if you weren't face-first in your pillow during the announcements. Again."
Ethan opened his mouth, paused, and slowly shut it. "...Okay, valid."
"They told us to report to Room E in Sector Nine," Kai said, already walking. "No idea what it is. No idea who's teaching it. Which means it's probably either super basic or we're gonna die. Could go either way."
Aiden followed. "They said it's a fundamentals course. Probably harmless. But you never know with this place."
Ethan groaned again, stood up, and muttered to himself, "I just wanted a nap."
The three of them crossed the academy's central bridge, moving through one of the lesser-used towers that curved upward like a spiraling blade.
The hallways were quieter here. Older. The kind of corridors that made you feel like they hadn't been walked in years, but still somehow gleamed with enchantments too ancient to fail.
When they reached Room E, a few other first-years were already standing outside, muttering in low voices.
"Is this the right place?"
"There's no teacher inside."
Kai shrugged and pushed the door open.
They stepped into a wide, round room with polished stone floors and plain, gray walls. No furniture. No sigils. No instructor. Just empty space and a tall ceiling with a faintly glowing skylight.
More students trickled in, joining the confused crowd. The door closed behind them with a soft thunk, leaving them sealed inside.
Ethan frowned. "Is this... a meditation room?"
"No clue," Kai said, sounding genuinely uncertain for once.
Aiden crossed his arms. "This better not be one of those 'learning through self-discovery' things."
The room stayed silent.
No announcements. No flickering runes. Nothing.
Ethan looked around at the blank walls, the echo of shuffling feet, the low murmurs of students growing steadily more nervous.
Then, without warning—
A blinding white flash.
Light exploded from the center of the room, swallowing everything.
Ethan's feet left the floor.
The air twisted, thick and slow, like he was falling through honey made of clouds. There was no gravity—no sense of direction. Just weightlessness and a faint ringing in his ears.
It didn't feel like teleportation. It felt like suspension—like he was being held between places.
His feet touched solid ground.
He stumbled forward with a gasp and hit his knees on warm stone. The light had vanished, replaced by wide-open sky.
Ethan blinked, disoriented, heart pounding. The wind rushed gently past him, crisp and cool.
The platform he stood on was massive—circular and smooth, with a few tall crystal spires rising around its edge. Pale sunlight shimmered off the polished surface, and glowing glyphs hovered midair, shifting like lazy fireflies.
The sky surrounded them on all sides.
Ethan slowly stood, looking around in a daze. Dozens of other students were scattered across the stone—some on their knees, others wobbling on their feet.
The air felt thinner here, like it was meant to be breathed slowly.
Then a voice shouted nearby.
A boy sprinted to the edge of the platform and peered over.
Ethan moved with the crowd, approaching slowly.
When he looked down... his stomach dropped.
Below them was nothing but open air. Clouds drifted lazily beneath their floating platform, and far, far below, a speck of the Academy's towers shimmered like a silver thorn.
They were miles up. On a floating island.
"Holy crap," someone whispered.
"This is real," another said, awestruck.
Ethan stepped back from the edge, his breath catching.
"What kind of class is this?"
A sudden shimmer flickered in the air above them.
Like a ripple in the sky, the space tore slightly—and from it stepped a figure so radiant that Ethan's breath hitched again.
They descended slowly from the ripple, walking on air as if it were solid marble.
Their robes shimmered like a constellation, deep midnight blue with flowing star-chains that glowed faintly. Their long, silver-blonde hair floated as if underwater, and their eyes—crystalline and oddly luminous—swept over the students with a kind of delighted mischief.
They were... beautiful.
Too vivid, too perfect to be real.
And yet they landed softly in the center of the floating stone with a warm smile.
"Hello, starborns, I am your professor, Quen Nyris," they said, their voice airy and melodic, with the hint of a laugh curled around the syllables. "Welcome to my classroom."
The students stared in stunned silence as their professor spread their arms with theatrical grace.
"This little trick? Just something I like to do for first-years. The blank room, the blinding flash, the wind in your bones... I do love watching the expressions. You all look like someone dropped you from the moon."
A few students actually chuckled.
His heart was pounding. Not because they were intimidating, but because—
I don't remember writing this.
He knew every teacher in his original draft. Every subject, every magical discipline. But Quen... was a complete blank.
Their presence, their design, their personality—none of it matched anyone he'd ever created.
They stood before the class now, arms behind their back, expression calm but teasing.
"This," Quen said, "is the course you didn't know you needed. Arcane Fundamentals: Spatial and Utility Applications. But you can just call it 'Don't Fall Off the Edge of the World, 101.'"
Another round of nervous laughter rippled through the group.
Quen's smile widened. "You'll be learning things here you won't find in the usual curriculum—spells that don't blow things up, but keep you alive long enough to cast the ones that do."
Their voice turned serious for just a breath. "Magic is more than fire and frost. It's precision. Movement. Flow. Control. That's what we teach here."
Then they winked. "And yes, I did design the teleportation sequence myself. It's meant to disorient you. You're welcome."
The students chuckled again, this time a little more at ease.
And Quen grinned, spinning in place once, arms wide.