Sponsorship [1]

"Don't waste the opportunity, Ezra."

"I know, Grandma."

Ezra sighed as he put on a pair of boots. He hadn't expected to rank first in the ESAT examinations. Not at all.

Soon after, the scholarship offers flooded, granting him access to any University Tower of his choice. 

Yet, the decision had come down to convenience. The Silver Tower was the closest.

It wasn't about ambition.

It wasn't about prestige.

Ezra despised mages.

The Empire of Aetherion was renowned for its mages.

But for Ezra, the Empire itself was the very thing he loathed.

They had been responsible for the death of his parents. He was certain of it.

And now, here he was, choosing the very path tied to the people who took everything away from him.

"You're quiet again," his grandmother remarked.

"..."

Ezra didn't respond immediately. The faint scent of herbs filled the air, but he wasn't hungry.

"I don't want to end up like them," Ezra said, standing up.

"Like who?" his grandmother asked.

"Like every mage who works for the Empire," Ezra said bitterly. "Blindly following orders, serving the people who—"

"Ezra," she interrupted. "You can't let the past chain you. What happened to your parents was wrong, but holding onto that hate won't bring them back."

Ezra looked down at his hands, the faint calluses from years of labor evident.

"It's not just hate," Ezra muttered. "It's about what kind of mage I want to be."

"Then decide that for yourself," she said. "You've been given a chance most could only dream of. Use it. Learn everything you can. And when the time comes, choose your own path."

Ezra's jaw tightened, but he nodded.

For now, he'd learn. He'd grow. And one day, he'd find his own way to wield his magic.

On his terms.

At least, that was his last conversation with his Grandmother before he was sent off to the University dormitories.

"Huaam…."

Ezra yawned, waking up from his slumber. Getting out of his bed, he looked above the bunk to see his roommate still asleep.

After all, Ezra had woken up quite early today.

Immediately, he went to the bathroom and washed up. After changing, Ezra looked at the mirror and nodded with a smile plastered on his face.

Finishing his preparations, Ezra stepped outside the dormitories.

It was only his second day.

He still hadn't purchased the textbook assigned by Professor Vanitas.

When he visited the University bookstore the previous day, it had been closed. The clerk had told him to return tomorrow.

So here he was.

"It's 28,000 Rend," the clerk repeated with a flat tone as she tapped the textbook on the counter.

"..."

Ezra blinked, stunned by the price.

No one told him it would cost this much.

His scholarship only covered the dormitory and tuition fees, leaving everything else for him to figure out.

Sure, he was ranked first, but that rank only applied to the CSAT examinees for first–year students.

It wasn't a grand accomplishment in the grander scheme of the University Towers.

Every year, someone was ranked first. And every year, that person received no privileges beyond tuition coverage.

"Are you buying it or not?" The clerk's impatient voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Uh… I'll… come back later." Ezra forced a smile and stepped back from the counter.

He turned on his heel and walked out.

"28,000 Rend…. 28,000 Rend…."

Twenty-eight thousand Rend was an absurd amount for someone like him.

After calculating how much he would be left with at the end of the month, Ezra sighed.

"I don't want to ask Grandmother…."

He was already living with a humble allowance, sent to him each month by his Grandmother.

He didn't want to ask for more.

He glanced at the other students bustling around the bookstore.

Most of them didn't seem to think twice about buying their textbooks, pulling out coins or black cards linked to their family accounts.

Ezra clenched his fists.

'Fucking spoiled rich kids.'

Naturally, Ezra's hatred for the Empire extended to the aristocrats.

He loathed them with every fiber of his being.

In any case, with no textbook, Ezra went inside the lecture hall and settled in his seat.

The lecture hall was still empty. He was the first student to have arrived.

Ezra slumped on his desk, burying his head in his arms.

He had finished the exercises—apparently assigned by Vanitas at the start of the lecture.

Of course, he'd been asleep when they were given, but the guy sitting next to him had filled him in.

Though, now that Ezra thought about it, he still didn't know the guy's name.

"..."

Without even realizing it, he dozed off.

"Yo."

"...."

"Sleeping again?"

"...."

"Dude."

The voice, mixed with the ongoing commotion broke through the haze of his sleep, pulling Ezra back to consciousness. 

He groggily raised his head, his vision adjusting to meet a pair of bright amber eyes.

"Morning. Ezra, right?"

"Huh—Oh, yeah," Ezra muttered, rubbing his face as he straightened up.

The other student casually pulled up a chair and set his textbooks on the table.

Ezra gave him a proper look this time and frowned.

He was annoyingly handsome.

The frown deepened into a scowl.

Ezra hated nobles.

And he hated good-looking nobles even more.

"It's Silas, by the way." the other student said, giving him a smile.

"Got it," Ezra replied curtly.

Seeing how things were going, most probably, this Silas guy was going to be his first friend.

It had to be a noble. Ezra was certain he was.

Nobles had a typical air to them, one that Ezra would always notice.

"Did you finish the exercises?" Silas asked, leaning back casually as he ruffled his cerulean hair.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Kind of forgot mine. Haha."

"You forgot?"

"Yeah," Silas said, grinning sheepishly. "Totally slipped my mind."

Ezra sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And you're telling me this why?"

"Figured you might let me copy," Silas said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Not happening."

On just the first day, the Professor was already on his ass. What more so, if he were caught blatantly exchanging his homework?

"Thought as much," Silas merely shrugged, as if expecting Ezra's rejection.

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps.

Tak. Tak—!

Both boys turned toward the door just as it swung open.

Professor Vanitas entered the lecture hall. Behind him followed his assistant, a silver-haired woman who caught Ezra's eye for a moment.

The murmurs among the students died instantly.

"Open your textbooks to page ten," Professor Vanitas said. His tone made it clear that there was no room for argument.

Chairs scraped against the floor as students quickly complied, the sound of rustling pages filling the tense room.

"...."

Ezra froze. His stomach twisted uncomfortably.

He didn't have a textbook. 

Again.

His hand hovered over his desk, pretending to search for something in his bag.

"Ezra Kaelus," Vanitas's cold voice broke through the room.

Ezra flinched and raised his head. All eyes were now on him.

"Yes, Professor?" he muttered.

"Where is your textbook?"

Ezra hesitated, glancing at Silas, who leaned back in his chair 

"I… uh, left it in the dorms." Ezra came up with an excuse.

Vanitas's eyes narrowed, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

"Left it in the dorms," Vanitas repeated slowly. "Just like yesterday?"

The class erupted into hushed whispers.

Ezra clenched his fists under the desk. His face burned, but he refused to look away from Vanitas.

He was preparing for the Professor's beratement. After his humiliation yesterday, Ezra had done his research on Vanitas.

Stern. Unrelenting.

Known for targeting students like a predator circling its prey.

Ezra was sure the beratement would come any second now.

Just as he prepared himself for the inevitable barrage of sharp words…

"Got it. I'll give you a week. You can share with anyone's textbook for now."

"Uh."

Ezra blinked.

Did he hear that right?

No sharp words. No insults.

Just that.

Ezra stared after the Professor as he moved to the front of the class, utterly bewildered.

"Let's not waste time. Open your textbooks to page ten."

Ezra sat frozen for a moment, then asked Silas if they could share.

Flip— Flip—

The room settled quickly. The quiet hum of turning pages filled the air.

Vanitas stood at the front with his arms folded, gazing across the class.

"Today's topic is mana circuits and spell efficiency."

Professor Vanitas began, writing the words on the board with a steady hand. His penmanship was impeccable.

Ezra expected the usual dry, mechanical delivery most Professors favored, but Vanitas's tone was anything but.

"Mana circuits are the backbone of spellcasting," he explained. "Without a proper understanding of how mana flows, even the simplest spell can fail. Worse, it can backfire."

He turned to the class with a sharp gaze, but it was anything but hostile.

"Who can tell me why mana instability occurs?"

A few hands hesitated in the air.

Vanitas pointed at a student near the middle. "You."

The student stood, fidgeting slightly. "Uh…. instability happens when the mana flow is disrupted by external factors or incorrect circuit patterns?"

"Correct," Vanitas said. "But it's not just external factors. Internal inconsistency, your lack of focus, for example, is just as dangerous. Mana does not forgive recklessness."

He returned to the board, sketching a diagram of a basic mana circuit.

"Look here. This is a beginner-level circuit for a Pyro spell."

His explanation was thorough. His chalk moved seamlessly as he labeled points and illustrated flows.

"The structure is simple. The mana moves linearly, cycling back to the caster for control. However, at higher ranks, circuits become more complex and require complicated layers."

Ezra followed along, nodding his head as he listened intently.

The way Vanitas explained was unlike anything he'd experienced before.

Clear. Concise. Yet, rich with depth.

Ezra found himself leaning forward, engrossed.

This was nothing like yesterday.

Yesterday, Vanitas exuded a certain pressure that felt oppressive. Of course, it was mostly targeted to him.

But today, he was a patient guide. His explanations unraveled the complexities of magic in a way that made it accessible.

It was mesmerizing.

"Questions?"

A few hands went up, and Vanitas addressed each one calmly, taking the time to clarify doubts.

Ezra flipped through Silas's book, glancing at the diagrams, trying to absorb as much as he could.

Soon after, time passed in a blink of an eye.

Vanitas's lecture continued seamlessly. His lecture covered advanced topics while tying them back to the basics.

He incorporated examples, applying in anecdotes that made even the driest concepts feel relevant.

By the time the lecture ended, the students were jotting notes furiously. 

Even Ezra, who usually found theory boring, had managed to fill five pages in his notebook.

Vanitas gathered his materials, glancing briefly at the class.

"Before you leave, submit the exercises I asked you to do yesterday."

The students began packing up, pulling out sheets of paper and shuffling toward the front.

Ezra walked towards the podium and submitted his paper.

The moment the door shut behind them, the hallways burst into chatter.

—That was intense.

—But he's thorough. I've never had a Professor explain resonance that clearly.

Ezra listened quietly, not adding to the conversation.

Instead, he stared at his notebook. Particularly, the neatly written notes.

For all his earlier impressions, Professor Vanitas wasn't just a hardass.

For the first time, he felt like he might actually learn something here.

He was good.

Really good.

***

There was one student that remained.

"Sorry, Professor, I forgot to do it." 

"Is that so?" Vanitas glanced indifferently at the boy, with cerulean hair and amber eyes.

According to the spectacle, his name was Silas Ainsley.

Vanitas wasn't familiar with him at all during his play–throughs. However, it seemed like the spectacle picked him up anyway.

"It's only the first week, so I'm not giving penalty points yet. But don't make it a habit."

"Understood, Professor."

Vanitas didn't respond as his attention drifted back to the stack of submitted exercises.

"Uh, Professor?"

"Yes?" Vanitas didn't look up.

"Your lecture today. It was pretty good."

Vanitas raised an eyebrow, glancing at him briefly.

"Is that supposed to excuse your lack of preparation?"

Silas laughed nervously. "No, no. Just…. figured I'd say it. You don't hear that a lot, do you?"

Vanitas's eyes narrowed slightly. "Flattery won't save you, Silas."

"Worth a shot." Silas smirked, then turned toward the door.

"Silas."

The boy paused, glancing over his shoulder.

"Next time, be prepared. I'm not as lenient as I seem."

Silas hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I know."

After the brief exchange, Silas stood still behind the door.

"....I know that all too well," he muttered under his breath, his face darkening.