The Avatar of Chaos

Once all evaluations concluded, the group was guided into one of the many lecture halls—high vaulted ceilings, floating chalkboards, and rows of tiered seating—where their Theory & Spellcasting class would begin.

Right after Lilith, Tamsin, and Lyra settled into their seats near the back of the grand lecture hall, the sound of soft footsteps drew their attention. Alaric approached with his usual calm grace, hands tucked casually behind his back. He offered a polite nod, his expression easy but carrying that same careful composure Lilith had begun to notice.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, voice low but warm, his violet eyes flicking briefly to each of them before resting on Lilith. "I'd rather sit with familiar faces than be swarmed by the curious."

Tamsin gave an immediate welcoming smile. "Of course! There's plenty of space."

Lilith studied him for a brief heartbeat—then gave a small nod. "As you wish."

Alaric smiled faintly, slipping into the seat beside them with a quiet "Thank you," and for the first time, Lilith noticed the subtle relief in his posture, as though the weight of countless eyes lifted just slightly.

As Lilith settled into her seat in the classroom, she exhaled slowly. The reaction to her magic had been expected. She had no interest in standing out too early, but there was nothing she could do in that situation. This was the smallest flicker of her true power—and even that was enough to stir ripples.

Lilith pulled out her books from her storage bracelet and placed them on her desk, then she started to observe around her.

The soft hum of magical wards filled the high-arched classroom as the first-years settled into their seats. At Lilith's side, Tamsin was already scribbling excitedly in a fresh leather-bound notebook, while Lyra clutched her quill a little too tightly, her nerves showing.

The classroom itself was grand yet intimate, with enchanted chandeliers floating overhead and vast chalkboards that shifted their notes automatically. Rows of tiered desks allowed every student a clear view of the instructor's platform. Arcane symbols glowed faintly along the walls—protection runes, Lilith noted absently.

Moments later, the doors creaked open, and a woman in flowing robes stepped onto the dais. Her auburn hair was neatly pinned back, and her robes shimmered with delicate constellation patterns embroidered in silver thread. Professor Elowen Sirelith's gentle expression lit up as she offered the room a warm smile.

"Good morning, first-years," she greeted, her voice soft but carrying easily. "I am Professor Elowen Sirelith. Welcome to Theory & Spellcasting. Here, we will not only learn to wield magic—but to understand it."

Her kind tone immediately set many of the students at ease. Lyra visibly relaxed beside Lilith, and Tamsin gave a smile.

Professor Sirelith positioned herself on the dais as her gentle gaze swept over the assembled students.

"Before we begin," she said softly, "I'd like to ask you all something simple, yet fundamental. What is magic?"

The room was quiet for a moment, the weight of the question settling over the new first-years. Finally, a boy near the middle—nervous but eager—raised his hand. Elowen nodded encouragingly.

"Magic," the boy began, "is using the elements to bring out our imagined results. We shape what we picture in our minds… and the chant gives it form."

A soft smile touched Elowen's lips. "A lovely answer," she murmured. "Imagination. Form. Control. These are the threads we weave together. And it is through words—through language—that we transform mere thought into reality."

Her voice softened further. "Never forget: magic, like any art, is born in the mind but brought to life by discipline. And today, we will learn about the four core elements and how to control them."

She raised a slender hand, and with a graceful motion, summoned a glowing diagram in mid-air—a wheel of the four elemental paths. The colors flared one by one: yellow for Earth, red for Fire, green for Air, and blue for Water.

Lilith kept her face still but her fingers curled into a fist as they trembled in annoyance. Four core elements? She must be joking! No, calm down, Lilith. They do not know... She thought to herself, then took a deep breath, let her heartbeat slow to its usual steady calm.

The professor continued, demonstrating the basic structure of spellcasting—the importance of intent, the necessity of incantation to shape raw magic into safe, usable form. Then, she handed out slim practice wands of polished hazelwood.

"These wands are for you to use in the class until you receive your personal staffs. Now, you might want to ask that why do you need these wands? Because they will empower your affinity to your element and keep it balanced. If you were to try casting a spell without one, being the novices you are, there is a high chance for the spell to backfire."

She stopped for a second to see if everyone understood the importance of using a wand before nodding her head. "Let's begin," Elowen encouraged gently.

"Since everyone here has a different elemental affinity, you will all be doing a simple spell in your respective schools. For earth users, summoning a few pebbles. For fire users, a simple spark spell. For air, a little current around you, and for water users, a small ball of water in your palm should suffice. Now, remember the steps: imagine the spell, use it's chant, and when the desired element appears, control it."

Around her, muttered incantations filled the air. Tamsin's fingertips ignited a faint flicker of yellow-gold light, soon turned into little floating rocks, drawing a grin from her. Lyra's attempt sent her quill floating gently upward. Lilith watched them for a heartbeat before calmly raising her wand.

Without uttering a word, she called the earth, fire, air, and water. And the four elements listened. First four little rocks materialized. Then a little flicker of flame joined in. A gust of wind brought them together right before a ball of water appeared. She let them combine into a small sphere and let it hover in perfect stillness above her open palm.

A hush fell over the nearest rows. Several heads turned. Even Professor Sirelith blinked, clearly noting that no chant had preceded the effect. Her eyes flickered to Lilith's, but the professor said nothing, only offering a gentle nod before continuing.

The whispers began almost immediately:

"She didn't chant—did you see?"

"She's not a priest's child, is she?"

"Silford family—very secretive—"

Lilith ignored them. She knew this was inevitable. Beside her, Tamsin whispered teasingly, "Show-off," though her smile was warm. Lyra's eyes shone with admiration.

Lilith allowed herself the faintest tilt of her lips. "It was a simple spell," she murmured, keeping her tone flat.

The rest of the lesson passed in steady rhythm: practice, correction, encouragement. Professor Sirelith never once raised her voice, gently guiding those who stumbled.

When the dismissal bell chimed, the trio gathered their things. Tamsin stretched with a groan. "I thought my tongue would fall off."

Lyra giggled softly. "You did well. Better than me—I nearly tripped over the last verse."

Lilith adjusted her gloves. "I am positive that you two will be great mages. Now, come. Time for History next."

Just as they stood, Alaric—who had sat quietly through most of the class, content to observe—fell into step beside them, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "At least none of you set the classroom on fire. I think that counts as a successful first lesson."

Tamsin laughed, giving him a shy smile. "High standards, huh?"

"Something like that," Alaric replied, casting a glance at Lilith that carried both amusement and something more thoughtful. Together, they made their way toward their next class.

The chime of the academy bells guided the flow of students into the History of Serria lecture hall—an expansive chamber with high stained-glass windows depicting the four elemental deities in vivid color. Along the stone walls, ancient tomes and relics of the old world sat locked behind glass cabinets, their worn spines whispering of secrets long forgotten.

Lilith, Alaric, Tamsin, and Lyra took their seats near the back once more, joined this time by Elias and Raffin. They arrived together, both slightly disheveled but visibly energized, cheeks still flushed from their earlier swordsmanship class.

"I swear," Elias began dramatically, dropping into the seat beside Lilith with a sigh, "I've never swung a sword so many times in my life. My arms are going to fall off before the semester's over."

Raffin chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "No kidding. That instructor—Master Vael, was it?—he's a real hardliner. First day, and he had us drilling basic strikes over and over. I thought we'd at least get to spar."

Tamsin grinned at them. "I heard he was once a royal guard captain. My brother says he only trains serious fighters."

Lilith gave her brother a small sidelong glance, her lips tugging slightly upward. "If you'd stop treating your blade like a stick for poking frogs, maybe your arms wouldn't hurt."

"Oi—!" Elias huffed, but the grin on his face ruined any attempt at offense. "I wasn't that bad! Raffin can back me up. I landed all of my swings right."

Raffin raised both hands in mock surrender. "It's true. He's good. I could barely keep up. Honestly, you'd think he's been practicing for years."

"Well, he was good enough with the sword that the Academy accepted his application two years early." Lilith explained, looking at her brother. Her eyes had a hidden pride in them.

Elias puffed up a little, beaming under the praise. "It was... kinda fun though," he admitted. "Hard, but fun."

Tamsin leaned forward, her eyes shining with curiosity. "Did they teach you anything fancy yet? Like disarming or dueling footwork?"

"Not yet," Raffin sighed. "Just the basics. Strikes, stances, discipline. Apparently we'll move onto paired drills next week."

Lilith listened quietly, her emerald eyes distant but attentive, her mind partially elsewhere with thoughts of the false history they were about to hear. Still, she gave a small nod to show she was listening, her fingers tapping idly on the desk. Alaric, watching the exchange, offered an amused but silent chuckle, content to observe for now without intruding.

Unfortunately, their peace didn't last long. Just as the hall quieted, Vivienne and her ever-present shadows, Callen and Selene, entered—finding seats near the front, but not without casting a sideways glance toward Lilith's group.

"Oh look, the freak of the empire is here as well." Vivienne whispered toward her lackeys with a curious, almost evil grin, plastered on her lips. But it was loud enough to be heard by Lilith and her group.

Lilith just gazed at them for a split second before moving her emerald eyes towards her book, like she did not deserve her attention, which clearly annoyed Vivienne. Elias stiffened slightly but said nothing, following his sister's example of composed indifference.

At the front of the room, a tall, silver-haired man in elegant scholarly robes adjusted his spectacles and cleared his throat. "Good morning, young lords and ladies," he greeted, his voice carrying the weight of deep knowledge. "I am Professor Thaddeus Greyvale, and I will be guiding you through the truth and myth of our world's history."

He gestured toward the murals behind him—images of Idite, Pyra, Aeyar, and Apton frozen in regal splendor.

"Our world, as you all know, is safeguarded by the blessings of the Eternal Four," he began smoothly. "It was through their mercy that humanity was lifted from chaos, shaped, and given dominion over the land. But not all beings were so benevolent."

Lilith sat still, eyes sharp as blades, her fingers lightly drumming against her desk. The words felt rehearsed, empty.

Professor Greyvale's voice darkened. "Long ago, there existed a fifth being—once a goddess, if one dares to use such a title for her. A creature of blood, monsters, and madness. The Goddess of Chaos. It was her corruption that birthed the beasts that roamed freely, slaughtering innocents. It was her hand that sought to unravel the world itself."

The room hushed. Even the rowdy students shifted uncomfortably.

Without raising her voice, Lilith spoke: "And what became of her?"

A few heads turned. Even Vivienne cast a quick glance backward, curious.

Professor Greyvale blinked, adjusting his spectacles. "She was struck down by the righteous fury of the Eternal Four," he recited. "Her name erased, her shrines cast to ruin, her followers scattered to ash. Such evil could not be allowed to endure. The monsters that remain are the remnants of her vile creation."

Lilith tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "And yet," she murmured softly, "some stories say she was betrayed by her own kin. That her consort—the God of Order—perished not at her hand, but defending her."

A tense silence. The professor's lips twitched in disapproval. "Superstitious nonsense," he said curtly, his tone sharper now. "No reputable scholar entertains such heresy."

Elias shifted uncomfortably beside her but said nothing. Across the row, Alaric watched the exchange with barely veiled interest, his fingers absently tracing the edge of his desk.

Professor Greyvale quickly moved on, but the tension lingered, whispers rippling softly through the room.

Lilith folded her hands neatly. She kept her mouth shut until the end of the lesson and listened with a masked face, her expression serene—but in the depths of her emerald eyes, something colder stirred.