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In the world of Comhlaidir

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The carriage ride felt endless. Lukkah and Petros sat across from me, their familiarity with The Academy evident in their easy confidence. It was their third year, and they spoke of classes, teachers, and rivalries with an air of nonchalance. I, on the other hand, was silent, staring out the window as the world outside shifted from the familiar green hills of Aisling to the wilder, untamed lands that surrounded The Academy.

"You’re awfully quiet," Petros said, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "Nervous, Sitheil?"

"No," I lied, though the fluttering in my stomach betrayed me.

"Leave her be," Lukkah said, giving me a sidelong glance. "The first day’s always overwhelming."

I nodded, grateful for his understanding. But what neither of them knew was that my nerves ran deeper than just first-day jitters. They had been at The Academy for two years, their powers tested and honed. Meanwhile, I didn’t even know if I had powers.

The spires of The Academy came into view as we rounded a bend, their silvered peaks piercing the sky. My breath caught. Even after years of hearing my brothers describe it, the sight was breathtaking. The central tower seemed to hum with energy, and the sprawling grounds buzzed with activity—students in colorful robes practicing spells, sparring, or hurrying between the buildings.

The carriage slowed, then stopped at the main gate. A robed figure approached, their silver-trimmed attire marking them as a senior instructor. Lukkah and Petros stepped out first, greeting the instructor with ease. I hesitated before following, clutching my satchel tightly.

“Welcome back, Princes Lukkah and Petros,” the instructor said with a polite nod before turning to me. “And you must be Sitheil.”

I managed a small smile, feeling the weight of their gaze.

The instructor led us through the gates and into the grand hall, where new students gathered in clusters, their chatter a mix of excitement and apprehension. The returning students moved with practiced ease, some glancing our way with recognition.

“This is where we part ways, for now,” Lukkah said, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You’ll do fine, Sitheil. Just follow the process.”

Petros grinned, his usual teasing replaced with surprising sincerity. “Try not to blow anything up on your first day.”

I rolled my eyes, but their presence, however brief, gave me a sliver of courage.

As they disappeared into the crowd of upper-year students, I felt a pang of loneliness. The hall suddenly felt vast and overwhelming.

“All first-years, this way!” a voice called out.

I joined the group, trailing behind as we were led to a smaller chamber. The walls were lined with glowing runes, their light pulsing softly. At the center of the room was a circle of symbols etched into the floor.

“This is the Attunement Chamber,” the instructor explained. “Each of you will step into the circle to reveal your powers. It is a tradition, a rite of passage. Step forward when your name is called.”

One by one, the students entered the circle. Some were immediately bathed in light, their powers manifesting in brilliant displays. A boy summoned a whirlwind; a girl’s hands glowed with green fire. The instructor’s comments ranged from impressed to indifferent, and the students beamed or faltered accordingly.

Finally, my name was called.

“Sitheil of Aisling.”

My heart pounded as I stepped into the circle. The runes glowed faintly, then brighter, brighter still... and then dimmed. No light, no sigil, no display of power. Just silence.

I stared at the instructor, my cheeks burning. The other students exchanged whispers.

“Well,” the instructor said, his tone carefully neutral, “not all powers manifest immediately. Latency is rare, but not unheard of. The Academy will help you uncover your gifts.”

I nodded stiffly, retreating from the circle as quickly as I could.

By the time the ceremony ended, I felt like an imposter. The other first-years chatted excitedly, showing off their newfound abilities, while I lingered at the back, trying to disappear.

Later, in the dormitories, I found my assigned room. It was small but comfortable, with a simple bed, a desk, and a window overlooking the central courtyard. My brothers had told me the dorms were divided by year, so I wouldn’t be near them. The thought was both a relief and a disappointment.

As I unpacked my things, I heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I said, expecting another first-year.

Instead, it was Lukkah.

“You settling in?” he asked, stepping inside.

“Trying,” I said with a shrug.

He studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Don’t let today bother you. Powers or no powers, you’re here for a reason.”

“Am I?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “The Academy doesn’t make mistakes, Sitheil. Give it time.”

I nodded, though his words did little to ease the knot in my stomach.

After he left, I sat by the window, watching as the sun set over The Academy. The shadows grew long, and the spires seemed to shimmer in the fading light.

Despite Lukkah’s reassurances, doubt gnawed at me. What if I never discovered my powers? What if I didn’t belong here?

But another part of me, quiet but persistent, whispered that this was only the beginning.

The next morning, the first-year schedule was posted in the common area. The parchment glowed faintly with enchantment, the names and times shifting smoothly as students passed by. I scanned the list, looking for my name.

Sitheil of Aisling
1st Bell: Magical Fundamentals (Instructor: Caidan)
2nd Bell: Physical Conditioning
Midday Meal
3rd Bell: Elements of Strategy
4th Bell: Power Discovery (Instructor: Lady Isolde)

I sighed. Power Discovery. The very words sent a shiver through me. I could already imagine the looks from the other students when nothing happened again.

“Interesting schedule.”

I jumped, spinning around to find Petros leaning against a pillar. He smirked at me, his ever-present teasing glint in his eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be off doing third-year things?” I asked, crossing my arms.

He shrugged. “We’ve got a free bell first thing. Thought I’d check in on you.”

“I’m fine,” I said, but my tone lacked conviction.

Petros tilted his head, studying me. “Don’t worry too much about the power thing. Some people are late bloomers. And besides—”

“Let me guess,” I interrupted, rolling my eyes, “you’re going to say I’ll catch up eventually.”

“No,” he said, his grin widening. “I was going to say that at least you’ll be entertaining to watch in Power Discovery.”

I groaned, shoving him lightly. He laughed, the sound echoing in the vaulted hall.

“Relax, Sitheil,” he said as he straightened. “The Academy has a way of revealing what’s hidden. Even if you don’t have powers, you’ve got a sharp mind. That counts for something.”

Before I could reply, the bell chimed, signaling the start of the first session.

“Go on, little sister,” Petros said, waving me off. “Try not to blow anything up.”

I glared at him but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

The first class was held in a grand circular chamber filled with desks arranged around a raised platform. Instructor Caidan stood at the center, his presence commanding even in silence.

"Welcome, first-years," he began, his voice carrying easily across the room. "Magical Fundamentals is the cornerstone of your education here. Whether your powers are raw and untamed or refined and precise, you will learn the principles that govern all magic. We start today with the basics: focus and intent."

Caidan raised a hand, and the air around him shimmered. A sphere of light formed above his palm, pulsing softly. “Magic is energy shaped by will. Some of you will excel at this naturally. Others will need time and practice. There is no shame in either path.”

As he demonstrated a few basic spells, I found myself entranced by the fluidity of his movements and the way the magic responded to his commands.

“Now,” Caidan said, “let’s see what you can do. Focus on creating light. A simple spark will suffice. Close your eyes if you must, and reach for the energy within you.”

The room filled with hushed murmurs as the students tried. A few managed faint glimmers of light. One boy produced a glowing orb so bright it made the others gasp.

I stared at my hands, willing something—anything—to happen. I closed my eyes, imagining the light Caidan had conjured. My palms grew warm, but when I opened my eyes, there was nothing.

“Focus, Sitheil,” Caidan said, his tone even but firm. “Do not let your doubts cloud your intent.”

I tried again, but the warmth faded, leaving only a hollow ache in my chest.

By the end of the lesson, I was the only one who hadn’t produced so much as a spark.

 

The fourth bell arrived too soon, and with it, my most dreaded class: Power Discovery. Lady Isolde, a tall, graceful woman with hair like spun silver, greeted the small group of first-years with a serene smile.

“Welcome,” she said, her voice soft but clear. “In this class, we explore your unique gifts. Powers are like seeds; some sprout quickly, while others take time to bloom. The Academy is a place for all to grow.”

Her words were kind, but they didn’t ease the knot in my stomach.

Lady Isolde instructed us to sit in a circle on the polished floor, the room’s walls lined with shelves of glowing crystals and ancient texts.

“We will begin with a guided meditation,” she said. “Close your eyes. Breathe deeply. Imagine a door within you—a door to the unknown. Do not force it open; simply approach it and listen.”

I closed my eyes, following her instructions. My mind wandered, and I pictured the door—a heavy wooden thing with iron hinges. I reached for it, my heart racing. But instead of opening, the door seemed to retreat, growing smaller and more distant the closer I came.

Around me, the other students began to stir. Lady Isolde moved from one to the next, her voice low as she offered guidance. When she reached me, she knelt and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“It’s all right, Sitheil,” she said. “Not all doors open on the first try. Be patient.”

Her kindness made my throat tighten. I nodded, avoiding her gaze.

When the session ended, I lingered, watching the other students leave with smiles and newfound confidence.

“Don’t lose heart,” Lady Isolde said as she gathered her materials. “Sometimes, the greatest potential lies in what is hidden.”

I wanted to believe her, but as I left the room, my doubts followed me like a shadow.

Back in my dormitory, I sat by the window, staring out at the spires of The Academy. The day had been overwhelming, and my failures weighed heavily on me.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

“Come in,” I called, expecting one of my brothers.

Instead, it was a small figure—a girl about my age with auburn curls and freckles. She hesitated in the doorway, clutching a book to her chest.

“Hi,” she said shyly. “I’m Maeve. Your room’s next to mine. Thought I’d introduce myself.”

I smiled, grateful for the distraction. “I’m Sitheil. Nice to meet you.”

Maeve stepped inside, her eyes wide as she glanced around. “It’s all a bit much, isn’t it? The first day, I mean.”

“You could say that,” I admitted.

She grinned. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to—or complain to—I’m right next door.”

Her kindness warmed me, and for the first time that day, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe I didn’t have answers yet. But at least I wasn’t alone.


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