Aurelius made his way through the straight corridors and up the steps to the third floor. The dorm was still mostly empty, with many students still out on their weekend plans.

  The Academy was a higher institute of learning, offering lessons for mages across six grades accepting students who completed their national education.

  Most aspiring mages came from magical backgrounds, with resources passed down from their past generations. Aurelius was among the rare breed of students who entered magical education without such backings.

  Growing up in a middle class household, his parents held mages in high regard for their earning potential. And with his reliable sister already set to inherit the family business, his parents had decided it prudent to invest in magecraft education for Aurelius.

  This seemed a great decision, especially with the timely growth of their accountancy firm providing extra breathing room for the Vennors.

  He was taught the basic arithmetic soul carving, of course, the lifeblood of any accounting firm, allowing him good mathematical skills. Beyond this, his soul remained unchanged from the extracurricular classes he took during his younger days.

  While never the most outstanding student, he had scraped into the Academy with passable grades. They offered lessons on spellcasting, mystical knowledge, and magical history. Students would graduate, waving around a silly certificate and secure some apprenticeship under an older mage.

  For an oddball like Aurelius, mystical knowledge and magical history taught by the school was invaluable, given his lack of real magical resources. Tomes and grimoires were expensive, if not outright under lock and key, only available to a magical family.

  For Aurelius, there was no clear path. He needed an appropriate apprenticeship to gain a viable trade as a mage.

  Joining the Magic Commission was possible too, but he had dismissed the idea early in his studies, he had no intention of grinding away his life as some overworked paper pusher.

  Even Tiberius had a more enviable future. His merchant parents had set him up with a city charm engraver through their connections and relatives. Though his elemental shape was unstable, he had still started picking up some useful tricks ranging from contract binding to small curses.

  All Aurelius could do was to attempt to improve his very basic magic soul shape, an unblemished circle. He couldn’t commit to an elemental shape since he had no idea what opportunities could even come up, and he wouldn’t get the chance to take up a mentor until his graduation.

  This meant that his classmates quickly outpaced him. A lot of them had access to mystical knowledge concerning elemental shapes, and access to a wealth of resources.

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  An excellent example was the daughter of a knight of House Corvinus.

  Despite being a lower ranked noble, rumor had it she was a temporal mage, capable of bending natural law itself. This was all thanks to her heritage and exposure to magic that Aurelius could not even hope to imagine.

  Exploiting the resources of the Academy, he had crafted a golem to assist him with the visualisation of his soul and ambient mana, something that even Aurelius could do.

  The guidance of his magical applications professor was helpful, and had allowed him to hone his skills a little better.

  The golem was also endearing in its own way, roaming the school grounds and growing flowers until the core ran dry. When the spirit departed, it left Aurelius with only memories and an emptier wallet.

  He had purchased another golem making kit recently, spending a total of five precious gold coins. It had been meant to help him catch up with some of his spellcasting assignments.

  However, he now believed that it could serve as a safeguard against any anomalies brought on by Quetzalcoatl.

  Clearly, he couldn’t entrust his experience to anyone. But a spirit golem? It could certainly work as a tiny guardian, who could at the very least contact relevant authorities on his behalf should an unfortunate fate befall him.

  With this clever plan, he checked his supply cabinet for the golem making materials.

  Glancing at his materials, his thoughts darkened, recalling his brush with death in the void.

  Tiberius had kept the experience at bay with his lameness, preventing Aurelius from breaking down in a panic attack in distracting him with the rage that the idiot induced in him.

  Unfortunately, he was alone now. Useless, terrifying thoughts continued to circle his brain, sending chills about his body.

  There was little point in dwelling.

  He was going to at least make an effort to escape the gaze of an evil god! Everyone knew that divine encounters rarely marked you for the best life. Rather, it had the impressive track record for shortening it instead!

  Taking out his supplies, a slight grimace formed on his face, annoyed over the unexpected expense of using pricy golem materials. This realisation gave Aurelius a sense of rather dark amusement, breaking him out a little from his spiral.

  Am I an idiot? What sane mage would worry over their finances when Quetzalcoatl Himself had spoken to them? Aurelius thought silently to himself, a slight smile grazing his face.

  Two beds faced each other in the simple, rectangular space of his room, with curtains that billowed lightly at the open window.

  Reaching under his bed, he pulled out his sling bag and packed his materials into it, careful not to crack the golem core. And he set off once more, this time for the potions lab.

  Today, Aurelius needed spirit powder, both to help with a spirit contract and to craft a basic spirit-warding charm.

  The lab was one of the Academy’s privileges, offering students access to basic potions and spirit contracting materials. Dangerous and expensive ingredients were, of course, kept locked away, though a polite request to an instructor could sometimes open doors.

  The charm would be nothing extravagant, just enough to blunt attempts at mind magic, and perhaps shield him if Quetzalcoatl’s influence originated in the spirit realm. The best that he could probably do for now.

  He descended into the main building’s basement. Cool air washed over him as he stepped into the dim corridor, faintly perfumed by herbs.

  Lamps had been dimmed to save mana for the weekend, giving the stone halls a more sinister air than usual. Wooden doors lined the left wall, and at the end of the hall, he reached the last door.

  Inside were rows of orderly cabinets, the faint gleam of glassware, and a Bound Book lying open on its lectern.

  Another student was already in the room.

  It was Seraphine Dwayne, an aspiring scholar in year 5.