Chapter 6

# Chapter Six: First Lessons

The Academy's bell tower rang six times, each chime resonating through the crystalline structure like the heartbeat of some vast, slumbering beast. Kael woke instantly, years of stable work habits die hard, and found himself staring at a ceiling painted with perfect replicas of the night sky.

For a moment, he forgot where he was. Then memory returned—the burning village, the caverns, the journey, the Academy. He was no longer a stable hand. He was a student of magic, the Starborn, whatever that meant.

He dressed in the robes that had been laid out for him—deep blue with silver trim, the colors of the Astral Order. They fit perfectly, suggesting someone had taken his measurements while he slept. The thought was slightly unsettling.

A knock at the door announced Lyra's arrival. She looked refreshed, wearing similar robes but with additional markings that denoted her status as a mentor-instructor.

"Ready for your first day?" she asked, though her smile suggested she already knew the answer.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Good. Your schedule is... ambitious." She handed him a crystal tablet that displayed his daily itinerary in glowing text. "Breakfast with the Grand Magus, morning classes with Master Thorne—"

"Thorne?"

"Not your village Thorne. Master Thorne the Elementalist." She smiled at his relief. "Followed by combat training, lunch with the Council, afternoon practicals, evening meditation, and private tutoring with me."

Kael stared at the schedule. "When do I sleep?"

"You'll adapt. Starborn physiology is different—you'll find you need less rest as your power grows." She led him into the corridor. "Come. The Grand Magus hates tardiness."

Breakfast was held in a private dining room high in the central keep. Grand Magus Elara sat at the head of a long table, with places set for several senior instructors. Kael was seated at her right hand—a position of honor that made him uncomfortable.

"Tell me about yourself, Kael," Elara said as servants brought steaming dishes. "Not the Starborn, not the orphan from Starhaven. You. What do you enjoy? What do you fear?"

Kael hesitated, surprised by the personal question. "I... enjoy working with horses. They're honest creatures—what you see is what you get."

"A good quality," observed an elderly instructor with a long white beard. "Honesty is rare in our world."

"And your fears?"

He thought of the visions in the Cavern of Echoes. "Becoming the thing I'm fighting against. Losing control and hurting people."

Elara nodded thoughtfully. "Self-awareness is the foundation of magical control. You do well to know your fears." She gestured, and a servant filled Kael's cup with a steaming liquid that smelled of herbs and honey. "Drink. It will help you focus during your morning lessons."

The breakfast conversation turned to Academy politics and magical theory that went over Kael's head. He listened more than spoke, absorbing the rhythms of this new world. These were the people who would shape his education, his future. Understanding them was as important as learning spells.

After breakfast, Lyra escorted him to his first class: Introduction to Elemental Magic with Master Thorne. The elemental instructor was nothing like Kael's village benefactor—this Thorne was tall and lean, with a shaved head and tattoos of flames that moved across his skin.

"The Starborn," he announced as Kael entered the classroom. "Let's see if you're as special as they say."

The class consisted of six other students, all older than Kael and clearly advanced in their studies. They watched with varying degrees of curiosity and resentment as he took a seat in the front row.

"Elemental magic is the foundation of all casting," Master Thorne lectured, pacing before a brazier of ever-burning flame. "Fire, water, earth, air—the building blocks of reality. Celestial magic, what our Starborn friend wields, is simply a higher form of elemental manipulation."

He gestured, and the brazier flared, forming shapes—a bird, a dragon, a tree. "Your exercise today: summon and sustain a flame for five minutes. Begin."

The other students immediately set to work, whispering incantations and gesturing with practiced ease. Kael stared at the brazier, uncertain. He'd never tried to create fire—his power had always manifested as light, not heat.

"Problem, Starborn?" Master Thorne asked, standing over him.

"I've never done this before."

"Then learn." The instructor's voice was unsympathetic. "Magic is not gift, it's skill. Practice."

Kael closed his eyes and reached for his starlight. It responded immediately, eager and bright. He tried to shape it, to force it into the form of flame, but it resisted—like trying to hammer water into a specific shape.

"Focus," Lyra whispered from where she sat in the back of the room. "Don't force it. Invite it."

He changed his approach. Instead of commanding, he requested. He visualized starlight as fire, imagined its warmth and light, invited it to transform.

The brazier erupted.

Not a gentle flame, but a pillar of silver fire that shot toward the ceiling and triggered the room's automatic suppression wards. Water cascaded from enchanted spouts, drenching everyone and extinguishing every flame in the classroom—including the ever-burning brazier.

Silence fell.

"Well," Master Thorne said, water streaming down his tattooed face. "That's one way to make an impression."

The other students stared at Kael with expressions ranging from awe to terror. He'd just extinguished a magically eternal flame—a feat that should have been impossible.

"Your power is raw," Master Thorne observed, studying the dead brazier with scholarly interest. "Untrained but immense. We must work on control before you accidentally destroy the Academy."

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of similar disasters—Kael's attempts at water manipulation creating miniature tidal waves, his earth magic causing the floor tiles to erupt like volcanic stone. Each failure taught him something, though, and by the end of the session, he could at least produce controlled effects.

"Progress," Master Thorne conceded. "Slow, but progress. Return tomorrow."

Combat training proved equally challenging. Kael's instructor was a grizzled veteran named Sergeant Marcus, who had lost an eye to a shadow-beast and replaced it with a magical prosthetic that glowed with golden light.

"Magic is a weapon," Marcus barked, circling Kael in the training yard. "But it's not your only weapon. A mage who relies solely on casting dies the moment his power is nullified."

He attacked without warning, wooden practice sword whistling toward Kael's head. Kael barely raised the Starblade in time to block, the impact numbing his arm.

"Slow! Predictable! Again!"

They sparred for an hour, Marcus relentlessly pointing out every flaw in Kael's technique. By the end, Kael's body was one massive bruise, but he'd learned more about swordplay than in all his years of carving walking sticks.

"You're not hopeless," Marcus admitted grudgingly. "Raw, untrained, but you have instinct. Come back tomorrow—earlier. We start at dawn."

Lunch with the Council was a formal affair that left Kael's head spinning with titles and protocol. He met the heads of each magical school, the representatives of allied kingdoms, and the Academy's administrative staff. Everyone wanted to meet the Starborn, to shake his hand, to be seen with him.

"They'll use you," Lyra warned as they walked to afternoon practicals. "For influence, for prestige, for political advantage. Remember that."

"Even the Grand Magus?"

Lyra hesitated. "Elara believes in the prophecy. She genuinely wants to save Aetheria. But she's also a politician—she won't hesitate to leverage your status if it serves the greater good."

Afternoon practicals were held in a vast underground chamber called the Testing Grounds. Here, students practiced magic in controlled environments—enchanted spaces that could simulate any terrain or condition.

"Your assignment," announced the practical instructor, a young woman named Selene, "is to navigate the obstacle course using only your starlight. No physical movement allowed."

The course stretched before them—a maze of pitfalls, traps, and barriers designed to test magical creativity. Other students struggled through, levitating themselves, creating bridges of force, transforming obstacles into harmless forms.

Kael studied the course, then closed his eyes. He reached for his starlight, felt it respond to his call. Instead of forcing it into predetermined shapes, he asked it what it wanted to be.

The answer came as an image—a bridge of solid light, arching gracefully across the entire course.

He opened his eyes and created it.

The bridge shimmered into existence, spanning from his feet to the finish line in one elegant curve. Kael stepped onto it, walking calmly across while other students gaped from below.

"Impossible," someone whispered. "That much solid light should drain him completely."

But Kael felt fine—better than fine, actually. Creating the bridge had felt natural, like exhaling after holding his breath. The starlight replenished itself almost as quickly as he used it.

"Remarkable," Selene noted, checking her instruments. "Your energy readings are off the charts. The Starborn gift truly is extraordinary."

Evening meditation was supervised by a serene monk named Brother Cassius, who taught techniques for clearing the mind and maintaining emotional balance.

"Magic responds to emotion," Cassius explained, his voice a soothing rumble. "Fear makes it wild. Anger makes it destructive. Only through inner peace can you achieve true mastery."

They sat in lotus position for an hour, breathing in patterns that Cassius demonstrated. Kael found it difficult at first—his mind kept returning to Starhaven, to the Seekers, to the weight of expectation pressing down on him. But gradually, under Cassius's gentle guidance, he found a place of stillness.

When the session ended, he felt refreshed in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.

"You have natural aptitude for mental discipline," Cassius observed. "That will serve you well. Return tomorrow."

Private tutoring with Lyra took place in Kael's rooms, where they reviewed the day's lessons and practiced techniques too dangerous for classroom settings.

"You're progressing faster than I expected," Lyra admitted, watching him form a perfect sphere of contained starlight. "At this rate, you'll catch up to third-year students within months."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Both." She dismissed the light with a gesture. "Good because you'll be prepared for what comes. Bad because it will make you a target. Jealousy is powerful magic, Kael, and you'll face plenty of it."

"I don't care about jealousy. I care about being ready."

"Then focus on that." She gathered her materials. "Tomorrow will be harder. Every day will be harder. But you're strong enough, Kael. I believe that."

After she left, Kael stood at his window and watched the Academy settle into night. Lights dimmed in the towers. Students returned to their dormitories. Somewhere in the darkness, the eternal vigil against Vexthorn continued.

His first day was complete. He'd failed spectacularly, succeeded surprisingly, and learned more than he could have imagined. The path ahead was clear: train, grow, become what he needed to be.

He touched the silver star on his palm, feeling its gentle warmth.

"I'm coming for you, Vexthorn," he whispered to the night. "Not today. Not tomorrow. But soon."

The stars seemed to twinkle in response, ancient and patient, waiting for the day when their chosen champion would fulfill his destiny.

That day was coming.

And Kael would be ready.