I woke up earlier than usual. Maybe it was nerves, maybe habit, or maybe because the quiet creak of floorboards under Alice's feet was enough to snap me out of a shallow sleep. My senses weren't what they used to be, but I still noticed things most others wouldn't. Even in this new body.
The morning sun leaked through the shutters of Alice's cottage. The scent of boiling herbs drifted in from the kitchen—something floral, maybe calming. Not that it worked on me. My thoughts were already racing.
Today, I was going to Sevren Academy. A chance to get into the capital's most prestigious training ground for swordsmen and mages. I hadn't stepped into a school in two lifetimes, and I had no intention of being treated like a child. I needed a place to grow stronger, not to be coddled. The world had erased Dareth Dreadmoor, but Valen Stormveil still had fire in his veins.
Alice knocked lightly before peeking into the room. She wore a long gray coat over her tunic, hair tied back. Simple. Efficient. That was Alice. She handed me a steaming mug.
"Drink. You'll need the energy."
I took it with a nod. The tea tasted like bitter grass and honey. Not pleasant, but grounding.
"You alright?" she asked.
"Fine," I said. "You look more nervous than I am."
She huffed a laugh. "I haven't seen Lorian in years. He used to be reckless and loud. Now he's a headmaster. That's... weird."
Weird or not, this was the path forward. I strapped on the belt she lent me, though I had no weapon to hang from it. My old blades were gone, and she insisted I shouldn't carry steel unless I earned it.
I didn't argue. Not yet.
We left her cottage and slipped into the veins of Valement. The capital buzzed in the morning light. Vendors shouted about fresh fruit and fireproof cloaks. Kids dashed past us, nearly knocking over crates. I could see the academy's white towers in the distance, climbing above the skyline like ivory spears.
Alice led us through a shortcut—Redstone Alley. Narrow, shaded, quiet.
Too quiet.
I grabbed her arm just before she turned a corner. She stopped, eyes narrowing. Five men emerged from shadows and stairwells, weapons drawn. One dropped from above, landing hard beside a stack of crates.
"Hand over your coin," said one. "And anything magical."
Alice sighed. "Why does this always happen on important days?"
I shifted my stance, letting instinct take over. No weapons, no armor, but I didn't need them. These weren't trained soldiers. They were desperate amateurs.
The first rushed me. I stepped aside, grabbed his arm, and used his momentum to hurl him into a barrel. Wood splintered. Another swung at Alice. She ducked, drew her short blade, and slashed his knee.
One tried to tackle me from behind. I twisted, caught a glimpse of steel, and kicked the dagger from his hand. It clattered on the stones. I picked it up and drove its pommel into his temple.
The fight lasted less than a minute.
Two tried to run but were caught by a squad of patrolling guards. I recognized their dark green coats—city enforcement, better trained than the usual gate sentries.
A senior guard surveyed the unconscious bodies. "Been after this crew for weeks. Smuggling stolen enchantments and fake artifacts."
Alice pointed to a rusted cellar door behind a half-rotten wall. "One of them kept glancing that way. Might be something hidden."
The guards pried it open and motioned us to follow. Inside was a stairwell, narrow and damp.
I didn't like basements. Too many memories of dungeons and hideouts from my old life. But I followed.
The basement stank of mold and old leather. Crates lined the walls, filled with stolen goods, glowing stones, counterfeit talismans. Then I saw it.
An egg.
It rested on a velvet cloth, glowing faintly. Not from heat—from within. Its surface was dark silver, veined with light like a heartbeat.
I stepped forward.
"Stop," Alice said.
Her tone wasn't sharp, but urgent. I froze.
"That's a bonding egg," she said, eyes narrowed. "A magical creature's unborn form. It chooses its partner through mana."
I looked back at the egg. It pulsed, not just light—like it was aware.
"So I give it mana?" I asked.
"No," she said. "Absolutely not."
She moved between me and the pedestal. Her posture wasn't afraid, but protective.
"I never taught you how to awaken your core," she said. "I wanted to... but I'm not a mage. I only know how to reinforce the body. If I messed up—"
She trailed off.
"You were afraid you'd break me," I said.
She didn't deny it.
"People have one core. Most focus it one way or the other. Mage or swordsman. Using both paths... it pulls the core in two directions. Body and mind. Too many snap under the strain. Or they age too fast."
I nodded. I remembered generals who tried to walk both paths. They burned bright, then crumbled young. War was cruel, but magic made it worse.
"So you waited," I said. "Hoping someone else could train me."
She looked away. "I thought I had time."
I stepped past her, slowly, and hovered my hand above the egg.
I didn't use mana. I didn't push anything out.
Still, it reacted.
The glow brightened. Not hostile. Warm. Like it was breathing in sync with me.
Alice stared. "That... shouldn't happen."
The guards were busy cataloguing crates. No one stopped me as I picked up the egg. It was light. Warmer than it should've been.
One guard saw and waved a hand. "Keep it if you want. Looks pretty, at least."
Back on the street, Alice kept glancing at the egg wrapped in cloth under my arm.
"Still glowing?" she asked.
"Still warm," I said.
She walked in silence for a while. Then: "You didn't even use mana. What kind of creature responds to presence alone?"
I didn't answer. I wasn't sure myself.
As we approached the gates of Sevren Academy, the towers rose like jagged teeth against the sky. Stone steps led up to giant doors etched with runes older than the capital itself.
A few students passed us, dressed in dark blue cloaks trimmed with silver. All of them glanced at the egg.
We were led through a marble hallway into a grand study, where Headmaster Lorian waited. He stood tall, with graying hair and eyes that missed nothing.
"Alice Starwyn," he said, smiling. "You're late."
"Bandits," she replied dryly.
His gaze shifted to me. "And this is the boy you spoke of?"
I bowed my head slightly. "Valen Stormveil."
He gave a small nod. "Let's see what you can do."
We were led to a practice courtyard, ringed with enchanted barriers. I didn't hesitate. I moved through a few simple drills, then into more advanced footwork. I added a variation—an old technique from my past life, combining speed with precision, balancing on the ball of my foot before twisting into a grounded strike.
I finished, steady.
Lorian raised an eyebrow. Alice looked stunned.
"You didn't show me half of that," she muttered.
"Didn't think I needed to," I replied.
Lorian stepped forward, studying me like one might study a rare blade. "You've never formally trained, yet your technique suggests deep mastery. Some of these moves... I haven't seen since the Third Era."
He turned to Alice. "He's in. Scholarship. Full access."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Even a dorm of his own," he added.
I exhaled slowly. The academy had opened its gates. And I had my first foothold in this new world.
The egg pulsed again under my arm, warmer than before.
Something was beginning.