CHAPTER 61: THE MORNING AFTER

The morning light crept through the narrow window of Darius’s dorm, its golden rays slicing through the dimness, stirring him from a restless sleep. He squinted, the brightness stinging his tired eyes, and rolled over, his body heavy with the weight of the previous night’s chaos. The forest’s eerie chase, the scream’s lingering echo, Rhys’s dazzling firework display—they swirled in his mind, leaving him drained yet restless. His muscles ached from the tournament’s trials and the celebration’s endless toasts, the cheers of victory now a distant hum beneath his fatigue. The memory of the shadowy Wraith, though revealed as a prank, clung to him, its coal-like eyes haunting his thoughts, whispering doubts about the forest’s secrets.

He stretched, wincing at the soreness in his limbs, and glanced at the other beds. Kai’s was empty, the earth mage already up, likely prowling the grounds before dawn, as was his habit. Aiden sprawled across his bed, arms flung wide, his light snores a steady rhythm in the quiet room, his face peaceful despite the night’s terror. Darius envied his calm, his own mind too tangled with questions—about the forest, the academy, and Ignatus’s cryptic offer as the Storm Visionary.

Footsteps echoed outside, sharp against the stone floors, pulling him from his thoughts. With a groan, he threw off the covers, his feet meeting the cold floor, the chill grounding him. He dressed quickly, pulling on his wrinkled robes from the night before, their fabric stiff with forest dirt. A glance in the mirror revealed a disheveled first-year mage—hair a mess, eyes shadowed with exhaustion, yet burning with resolve. The assembly loomed, and he couldn’t afford to linger, not with the weight of choices ahead.

Kai burst back into the room, tugging on his robes, his usual grin tempered by fatigue. "An assembly today?" he grumbled, tying his belt with a scowl. "After last night? They’re trying to kill us."

Darius smirked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "No rest for the victorious, I guess. New week, new grind."

Aiden stirred, mumbling, "If I hear one more announcement, I’m hiding in the library for a month. No one’ll find me." His voice dripped with sarcasm, but he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Dream on," Kai shot back, already at the door. "Move it, or we’ll be late, and I’m not explaining that to the Headmaster."

Darius chuckled, the trio’s banter easing his tension. Their bond, forged through the tournament and the forest’s trial, felt like an anchor in the academy’s storm of expectations. They stepped into the stone hallway, their footsteps echoing, the air cool and heavy with the scent of old magic. The corridors, lined with tapestries of ancient mages wielding fire and storm, seemed to watch them, their woven eyes glinting with secrets. Darius’s chest tightened, the weight of the coming day pressing harder.

The assembly hall loomed ahead, a cavernous space of polished stone and soaring arches, its stained-glass windows casting kaleidoscopic light across the rows of seats. First-years trickled in, their numbers starkly fewer than at the start of the year. The empty chairs, silent reminders of those who’d failed the tournament, sent a pang through Darius. He hadn’t known them well, but their absence was a wound in the room’s energy, a quiet current of loss beneath the students’ murmurs. He, Kai, and Aiden claimed seats near the back, Darius slumping into his chair, arms crossed, the morning’s fatigue clinging like damp cloth.

Whispers buzzed around them, a mix of excitement and unease. "What’s this about?" a student hissed nearby. "New classes, maybe?" Another muttered, "After last night, I just want answers." Darius’s thoughts drifted to the forest—the tree’s pulsing symbols, the Wraith’s shadow. Rhys had called it a prank, but the dread lingered, a splinter in his mind.

The hall fell silent, the air crackling with anticipation. The doors slammed open, a gust of cold wind sweeping through, and the lights dimmed, plunging the room into shadow. A low hum vibrated the floor, and the Headmaster appeared, not walking but rising on a floating platform, wreathed in a storm of blue and gold flames. The fire spiraled around him, weaving intricate patterns—dragons, comets, swirling tempests—that cast eerie shadows across the walls. His robes billowed, storm-gray and edged with silver, his presence commanding, almost otherworldly. The flames roared higher, obscuring him, then parted, revealing his tall, regal figure, eyes gleaming with authority.

The students gasped, some leaning forward, others shrinking back. The Headmaster’s entrances were legendary, but this was a spectacle of raw power, a reminder of the academy’s might. "Welcome, young mages!" His voice boomed, resonating through the hall, vibrating in Darius’s chest. "You’ve survived your first trials, stood victorious in the tournament, and faced the forest’s test. Now, you stand at the edge of your true journey."

He paused, his gaze sweeping the room, and Darius felt it linger on him, sharp and probing, as if peeling back his thoughts. The Headmaster’s smile softened the tension, warm but weighted. "Today marks a turning point. You will choose the paths that define you as mages—your specialties, your crafts, your futures. The world beyond these walls is vast, unforgiving, but you have the strength to shape it."

The room stirred, whispers rising. The Headmaster raised a hand, flames flickering at his fingertips. "You’ve mastered the basics, but now you delve deeper. Elemental magic, illusion, enchantment, summoning—each path is a thread in the tapestry of your destiny. Choose with care, for these decisions will forge who you become."

A massive scroll unfurled in midair, glowing with golden script, listing courses: Advanced Pyromancy, Aetheric Manipulation, Shadow Weaving, Nature’s Dominion. The students leaned forward, eyes wide, the weight of choice settling over them. Darius’s pulse quickened, his mind racing. Elemental magic called to him—wind and fire, like his father’s, felt natural, instinctive. But the forest’s shadows, the tree’s pull, whispered of darker arts—shadow magic, perhaps even necromancy. Could he harness that?

The Headmaster’s voice cut through his thoughts. "Submit your schedules by day’s end. Your faculty awaits, ready to guide you into the next phase of your training. Choose wisely, and let your magic lead." With a flourish, he raised his arms, and the flames roared back, enveloping him in a blaze of blue and gold. The fire swirled, a tempest of light and heat, and with a deafening whoosh, he vanished, leaving only embers drifting to the floor. The students erupted in murmurs, some awestruck, others shaken by the display.

Darius leaned back, the scroll’s glow reflecting in his eyes. The choice loomed, heavy and vast, like the forest’s darkness. Fire and wind, or shadow and mystery? Ignatus’s offer echoed—mentorship, power, a path to greatness. But at what cost? His fingers tightened, the decision a storm in his chest.

Kai nudged him, his grin sly. "You’re overthinking it, man. Pick what feels right. You’re good at everything, so just commit." His tone was light, but his eyes held a rare seriousness, grounding Darius.

Aiden stretched, yawning. "Yeah, don’t stress. I’m leaning toward light amplification, but I’m not losing sleep over it." He smirked, but his glance at Darius was knowing. "You’ve got this."

Darius nodded, a half-smile breaking through. "Thanks. I’ve got a meeting with Ignatus. Need to figure out what he thinks I should do."

Aiden raised an eyebrow, teasing. "Ignatus? Good luck. Guy’s intense. Hope you’re ready for a lecture."

Kai laughed, clapping Darius’s shoulder. "You’ll survive. Just don’t let him talk you into something crazy." They stood, weaving through the dispersing crowd, the hall buzzing with excited chatter about courses and futures. Darius’s steps felt heavier, the weight of choice pressing harder as they left the hall.

The corridors stretched before them, stone walls lined with tapestries of ancient battles, their colors faded but vibrant with magic’s echo. The air grew cooler, the academy’s quiet hum amplifying Darius’s unease. Ignatus’s office waited at the corridor’s end, its plain wooden door deceptively simple for a mage of his stature. Darius paused, his heart thudding, the forest’s memory—those pulsing symbols, the Wraith’s shadow—mingling with the Headmaster’s words. Choose wisely.

He knocked, the sound sharp, ringing like a bell in the silent hall. The air chilled, a faint metallic scent teasing his senses. After a long moment, a low voice called, "Enter."

Darius pushed the door open, stepping into a dimly lit office. The air was thick with incense, aged parchment, and that same metallic tang, sharp and unplaceable. Shelves lined the walls, stuffed with leather-bound tomes, dusty scrolls, and glowing trinkets—crystals pulsing faintly, a dagger-shaped artifact humming with energy. Enchanted lanterns cast eerie shadows, dancing across the stone walls like whispers made visible. Ignatus sat behind a broad wooden desk, his sharp eyes locking onto Darius, piercing, as if seeing through to his core. His presence was a storm contained, radiating quiet power, his gray robes shimmering faintly with runic threads.

"Darius," Ignatus said, his voice gravelly yet smooth, savoring the moment. "I’ve been expecting you." He leaned back, fingers steepled, his gaze unyielding but not unkind, a faint smile curling his lips.

Darius stood straighter, his throat tight. "I’ve thought about your offer," he began, his voice steadier than he felt. "The Storm Visionary, the mentorship—it’s a lot to take in. But I’m ready. I officially accept training under you."

Ignatus’s smile widened, his eyes glinting with approval, a spark of something deeper—pride, perhaps, or anticipation. He rose, his robes rustling, and stepped around the desk, his presence filling the room. "A wise choice, Darius," he said, his voice low, resonant, carrying the weight of centuries. "You’ve taken the first step toward a power most can only dream of. Your magic, your will—they’ll shape worlds. But it begins here, with discipline, with purpose."

He paused, his gaze softening, though no less intense. "We’ll explore your affinities—wind, fire, perhaps something darker. The forest showed you that, didn’t it? A glimpse of what lies beneath." His words stirred the memory of the tree’s jolt, the shadows’ whisper, and Darius’s pulse quickened.

Ignatus turned, a crystal on his desk flaring briefly, casting a green glow across his face. "Your path won’t be easy, but it will be yours. We’ll start with your courses, refine your skills, and uncover what truly drives you." He faced Darius again, his smile both challenge and promise. "Then we have much to discuss."