"Of course, I've seen that quote before—tucked in the corner of our third- or fourth-grade general knowledge textbook, in a few magazines, and even on our math teacher's office wall," Roger said, waving a hand. "Grand Arcanist Lagrange said it."
"The same man responsible for half our homework problems," Beta muttered through a mouthful of cookies.
"But also the reason we even get to attend school. Otherwise, we'd still be ignorant country bumpkins," Roger shrugged.
"True…"
Lanen, meanwhile, gazed out the window at the passing scenery.
The steam engine chugged past another small town, its tracks flanked by rows of tightly packed houses and vast stretches of farmland beyond, crops of every color thriving under the sun.
This wasn't his first time on a train—at least, not in theory. But after the upheavals of recent years, his earlier memories had grown hazy. To the present Lanen, this world's peculiar charm still felt fresh. Even if the speed paled in comparison to another, vaguer recollection, he watched with fascination.
Both cities lay in sprawling hill country, and outside the window, gentle slopes dotted with villages rolled by. To maximize efficiency, the tracks had been laid with deliberate curves, weaving through as many populated areas as possible.
"Young Master Lanen—"
"I've told you not to call me that, Beta. We're classmates now."
"Right… Lanen. They say there's an aptitude test at enrollment. What if I fail and get sent back to Devonta?"
"You're overthinking it."
"It's just… Teacher said our town didn't have proper magic-assessment equipment. Would've been nice to know beforehand." Beta still looked troubled.
Lanen's mind, however, had already raced ahead: As the protagonist, will I pull off some cliché like maxed-out stats or an all-element affinity? At least the basic test at graduation confirmed I'm not a total waste… But the real issue is—magic isn't even used for combat here?!
And what would this legendary magic academy be like?
He'd heard plenty of rumors and his parents' stories about their school days. But after years of upheaval, his memories were a jumbled mess. Seeing was believing—best to wait and observe.
"Look! That's the Crown Mage Tower—a famous landmark in Lorendan. We're almost there!" Hale's voice yanked Lanen back to reality. "That was fast! Three hundred standard miles in just a few hours. Grandpa said this trip used to take three days by carriage."
Lanen turned to the window, listening as the others pointed out sights.
With a long whistle, the train hissed to a stop at the platform. Mr. Hughes had given them a ten-minute warning earlier, and now the freshmen filed out with their luggage. Outside, a stern-looking middle-aged woman with short hair and black-framed glasses held up a sign—someone who clearly tolerated no nonsense.
"Professor McDonnell, all the Lavender City freshmen are here."
"Thank you, Castor. The carriages are ready—I'll take them from here. And—call me Shauna."
The group boarded a four-wheeled carriage painted in the academy's colors, rolling through streets, past a stone gate too young to show wear, and into a campus lush with greenery. They disembarked directly at their future dormitory.
Another roll call followed. This time, Lanen noted the two elves: Scott Silvermoon and Jennifer Silvermoon. So one male, one female. Or… one masculine, one feminine?
Then came randomized room assignments.
The dorm conditions were excellent—four to a room, each with a private bath. Every student got a sturdy iron-framed bunk bed that stretched to the ceiling, complete with an elevated sleeping berth and a built-in desk below.
Unfortunately, Lanen and Beta weren't paired together. Beta ended up in Room 312, while Hale—whom they'd met on the train—was assigned as Lanen's roommate.
Soon, they met the local students. Since Lorendan was nearby, these freshmen only had to report by 1 p.m. Yet even then, most had arrived early.
After dumping their luggage, the newcomers hurried out of the ivy-covered dorm to assemble. Next up: the orientation ceremony, followed by the time-honored, student-beloved Aptitude Test.
Once again, the no-nonsense Professor McDonnell took charge.
"Form two lines and follow me! Two lines!"
A stage and seating had already been set up in the square. Lanen and the others quickly found their spots after roll call.
"Welcome to Atlanta Arcane Academy! Welcome to the new term!" The amplified voice boomed across the grounds, hushing the crowd. Lanen looked up to see a portly man onstage, arms raised: "I am your new headmaster, Max Blank!"
"As our grand auditorium is still under construction, we must gather outdoors today. For this, the academy apologizes. However!" His voice suddenly sharpened:
"Those who come here to learn will not leave disappointed! For knowledge is the purpose of a school! And Atlanta, in the days ahead, will fill your minds with magic and arcana, theorems and formulas, wisdom and understanding! It will show you the meaning of life—let you truly live!"
"So, my children, though the path to truth is never crowded—let us march forward, torch in hand! Let us stand upon the shoulders of giants and dare to climb higher!..."
The headmaster's sweeping gestures whipped the crowd into a frenzy. Lanen, swept up in the moment, cheered along like any wide-eyed freshman.
"My cousin said the headmaster's speech is the same every year. And that 'legendary auditorium' has been 'under construction' for at least a decade," Hale whispered once the applause died.
"Now, brace yourselves—for the moment every heroic tale and mage's legend begins with! The ever-popular… Aptitude Test!" With a final flourish, the headmaster yielded the stage to Professor McDonnell.
A dust cover was pulled away, revealing an imposing machine. Encased in a violet shell as tall as a man, its exposed front resembled a cross between a spaceship seat, a beauty-salon chair, and an executioner's electric throne. Two fist-sized crystal orbs served as handgrips.
One by one, students were called onstage to sit in the device under the crowd's gaze. A glowing crystal pillar beside it displayed their aptitude ratings via illuminated刻度 (gradations).
Anticipation bubbled in Lanen's chest. Will I be the underdog or the prodigy? Too bad I don't know if my family's arranged any engagements—imagine the drama of a broken betrothal! His mind wandered as he watched the numbers flicker for each classmate.
"Lanen Banneray!"
Lanen hurried up, settling into the testing apparatus. He rested his head in the semi-enclosed band and gripped the crystal orbs, pulse racing.