Magic School Loop

Day 4 – Ferradine (+1 Runes, Crafting, Mechanics)

Morning: Arcane Gunsmithing 2(Workshop)

The forge-choked air of Workshop Chamber 7D buzzed with a low thrum of active enchantments. Tools whispered commands to one another. Anvils exhaled steam. Sparks danced in runes across the vaulted ceiling like constellations made of heat and iron.

Elra Vintock, came into the center of the class dragging a cart loaded with strange components: rune-carved brackets, clockwork gyros, hinge-bolts that whispered curses in gibberish, and broken magical bayonets still sizzling with misfire. "Today," Elra barked, "we get modular. You want your weapon to adapt, not just hit hard. Battlefields change. So must your gun."

The lesson focused on: Modular Arcane Rails. They were introduced to pivoting arcane rail systems—etched metal conduits that allowed attachments to slide, reconfigure, and socket into place dynamically. When stabilized by minor anchor runes, these rails let weapons shift from ranged to melee support, or swap between elemental alchemical payloads on the fly.

Joshua focused on precision—the fine balance between function and flow. He began etching small momentum runes across a flexible rail that could hold both his nail-hammer and a rotating alchemical chamber. Instead of using traditional rune stones, he used scrap metal from an old spell-furnace, imbuing it with his Reinforcement signature.

Roll for Minor Item(Rune)[1d8(Talent) +1 Day Bonus + 1 Instructor Bonus +1 Relationship Bonus +1 hammer-nail Bonus +1 skill]

Need 10.

Rolled 6

Failed

-

Afternoon: Magical Ballistics 2(Workshop)

The classroom was less a lab and more a weaponized observatory—glass-chambered walls displaying explosions in slowed time, hexagonal containment fields flickering from past misfires, and a chalkboard that occasionally erased itself out of spite.

Professor Liora Fenwick—sleek robes streaked with scorch marks and a voice like quiet thunder—stood at the center of the hex ward ring. Her hands glowed faintly, charged from prolonged exposure to arcane radiation. "A bullet is not a container," she said. "It is a promise of change—compressed, aimed, and triggered. Let's teach yours to keep that promise."

They were tasked with building their own ammunition matrices—custom cores designed to hold alchemical charges wrapped in layered spell-bindings. The featured payloads of the day: Shockburst – A core laced with sulfurite and echo quartz, discharging an electric field on impact. Used for disabling or stunning high-speed targets.

And Freeze Core – Packed with elemental ice resin and cold-forged runes from the Cryowastes. Upon detonation, it blooms into a flower of absolute zero. Danger: Prolonged exposure may freeze the caster's fingers—or soul. Each student received a ritual slate, a rune-engraved ammo mold, and a vial of mutagenic flux-ink—the alchemical glue that binds the payload matrix to magical intention.

Roll for Minor Item(Rune)[1d8(Talent) +1 Day Bonus + 1 Instructor Bonus +2 Relationship Bonus]

Need 10.

Rolled 5

Failed

-

Evening: Research Magic Evolution in Grand Library of Magic

Location: The Grand Library of Magic
Focus: Discovering how magic adapts, mutates, and ascends through lineage, legacy, and user interaction.

By dusk, the sun had vanished beneath the academy's shield, casting long shadows that shimmered with latent enchantment. Joshua made his way through the winding halls toward the Grand Library of Magic, its gates yawning open like the maw of some docile titan.

Inside, the air was still, heavy with parchment dust and echoing silence. The Grand Library wasn't just a collection of books—it was a living repository, where knowledge moved, watched, and waited. The shelves didn't end; they curved. Floors changed orientation when you weren't looking. Some tomes had teeth. Some whispered. Joshua took a brass lift sealed with a thought-lock, riding it down twelve levels into the Arcanum Vaults, where advanced magical theory and forbidden insights were stored. He was able to wave his Librarian badge to get in.

His query today was: Magic Evolution!

His Reinforcement magic was a raw, brutal force: limbs hardened, speed heightened, bones like steel threads. It served him well. But he wanted something better since he was after all human, he wanted to move faster, strike harder, burn brighter. And now, with Vespy, his bonded fabled familiar—a creature of veiled bloodlines and sleeping divinity—he knew the time had come to transform. He whispered his query into a resonance glyph. The floor opened.

Here, old theories slept—on how familiar bonds didn't just empower magic, but could mutate it. Not all familiars were animals or spirits. Some were living catalysts. Vespy wasn't just a magical companion. Vespy was a keystone. A mirror. A prism. Joshua's fingers trailed across an obsidian-tome: "Thaumaturgic Coevolution: The Fusion of Soul Magic and Beastcraft."

"When a mage and a familiar are truly bonded, the magic between them doesn't just flow. It multiplies, mutates, mirrors, and evolves. They become co-authors of new spellforms—beyond traditional schools."

Current Magic Upgrade Research Progress (63/1,000)

Current Reinforcement Magic Early 1-✩: 27/1,000

Roll for Magic(Affinity)[1d4(Magic)+2 Bracer +3 Library]

Rolled 9

New Reinforcement Magic Early 1-✩: 36/1,000

Magic Upgrade Research Progress (72/1,000)

-

Day 5 – Veilmere (+1 Planar & Spiritwork)

Morning: Arcane Gunsmithing 3(Practicals)

The forge thrummed with arcane resonance. Runes etched into every surface pulsed with slow-burning light, casting the cavernous workshop in a shimmering glow. Smoke drifted like incense through the chamber, heavy with the scent of molten alloys and spell-oil. Hammers rang in syncopated rhythm, not chaotic but guided—each beat part of a larger, enchanted tempo.

Joshua stood at his assigned bench, the ever-watchful eyes of Elra Vintock passing over the students like an iron-fisted sentinel. The dwarf wore her usual scorched leathers and copper-framed monocle, but today, her voice bore more weight than usual. "Magical metallurgy isn't just about bending metal," she said. "It's about forcing power into permanence. Turning enchantment into substance. Soul into steel."

Today's task was deceptively simple: forge a custom alloy capable of conducting magic—one that could withstand intense spellcasting, redirect mana surges, and reinforce spell-channeling components. But the process was anything but easy.

Joshua reached for the mineral base he'd been rationed: ferranite, goldshard dust, and ghost-iron slivers—each rare, each volatile. He whispered an activation phrase. Blue-white flames erupted beneath the crucible. The heat was intense, but he focused, drawing on his Reinforcement magic. Threads of his mana fed into the metal mixture, shaping its potential. He didn't want just a strong alloy—he wanted one that resonated with him.

As the metals fused, he carved quicksilver runes along the crucible's outer shell—glyphs for tempering willpower into structure. One wrong gesture would warp the outcome. But he moved with instinct. Confidence. Pressure built. Light cracked across the crucible's surface. Then the alloy sang. It wasn't a sound. More a vibration, a harmonic resonance that passed through his bones. Vespy raised her head, ears twitching, responding in kind. Their connection deepened, and for a moment, Joshua felt something shift within the forge. His alloy wasn't just conductive. It was bonded.

He poured the finished product onto the crafting slab, watching it cool into a gleaming, vein-marked ingot. It shimmered with faint, shifting light—metal that remembered the magic it had touched. Behind him, Elra Vintock grunted with a rare nod of approval. "You made something new. That doesn't happen often," she said.

Joshua smiled, sweat-drenched and weary. His fingers ached. But in his hands was the future core of a weapon unlike any other. Something his. Something forged not just by fire, but by bond and resolve. Magical metallurgy wasn't just about melting metal. It was about becoming worthy of what you built.

+1 Skill Progress - Magical Metallurgy 1(2/3): +1 Bonus to crafting, fixing and modifying metal objects

-

Afternoon: Magical Ballistics 3(Practicals)

"Today," she said, her voice calm even as residual explosions echoed in the distance, "we learn to weaponize instability." She gestured, and a row of alchemical jars floated forward—mundane materials: oils, dusts, powders, mineral shards. "You will transform the inert into incendiary. Through spell acceleration, kinetic ignition, and magical combustion triggers. This is Volatile Catalyst spell training. If you fail, you burn. If you hesitate, you detonate."

Joshua's hands tightened around the alloyed grip of his training gauntlet. At his feet sat a cluster of common field reagents—nothing particularly lethal on their own. But that was the point. He focused. Reinforcement magic pulsed through his arm. With practiced rhythm, he traced the spellweave in the air: acceleration sigil, fractal ignition core, entropy lash. It wasn't elegant. It didn't need to be. It needed to burn fast and loud.

He released the spell. The powder detonated with a shriek of light, flaring in a crimson arc that shattered the dummy in front of him. Charred fragments rained down. "Too much combustion. Not enough control," Professor Fenwick called, though her voice held the ghost of approval. "Impressive, but try not to blow off your own eyebrows next time."

Around him, other students tested their formulas. Some with success—alchemical jars launched into fiery arcs, detonating with controlled force. Others misfired—sputters, fizzles, and more than one accidental scorch mark. Joshua adjusted his stance and kept casting again and again.

Spell Gained: Volatile Catalyst: Transforms ordinary substances into highly reactive explosive agents through magical acceleration of combustion and volatile reactions.

-

Evening: Find True Name of Entity in Grand Library

Joshua moved through its halls alone, torchlight flickering against endless rows of shelves and floating archives. This was no ordinary reading session. He wasn't here for theory or diagrams. He had come to find a name—a True Name—of a creature bound to his fate.

The air in the Forbidden Wing was heavy, old in a way that made lungs ache. The books here were chained not just to shelves, but to memory. Some tomes whispered in forgotten dialects. Others bled ink when opened. At a certain depth, silence became a pressure. It pressed against the soul like deep water.

He carried with him an anchor: a single elemental wisp shed from Caelgor—his old contract that was devoured.. The wisp pulsed with inner light, resonating faintly as he passed certain stacks. He followed that pull. Eventually, he reached a sealed archway of cracked marble and frozen glyphs. Beyond it lay the Index of Nameless Things, a chamber rarely entered. A librarian once told him it was where spells died, where truths cut too deep to be uttered were buried under script and shadow.

Inside, the chamber looked like a planetary model gone mad. Ribbons of floating script rotated in orbits around ancient tablets. Celestial diagrams and cursed sigils coexisted in a tangled harmony. In the center stood a pedestal of dreamstone, and above it floated a black prism of stillness. This was where names came to be remembered. Joshua stepped forward, every footfall met with resistance—not of gravity, but of will. The entity whose name he sought resisted being known.

He placed his hand on the pedestal. The prism turned, once. Then came the voice—not spoken, but felt across the bone, like wind through a dead forest. "What is your price?" Joshua didn't flinch. He'd come ready. He offered not blood, but memory—his first contracted being, Caelgor.

He felt dirty giving up his friend's name, but he was dead, and the dead couldn't complain. The prism drank in the name. Then it unfolded its secrets. Names. Hundreds. Then dozens. Then three. Then one. The True Name glowed on the air like molten script. It wasn't pronounceable—not with a mortal tongue—but Joshua knew it. The library sighed, doors closing behind him. The name was his now. And with it, so was the power that slept beneath it.

Entity Type: What is it that you will call forth? Roll 1d6: Rolled 6

Cosmic – Voidwalkers, starborn creatures, gravitational anomalies. Speak in alien thoughts and tilt time and space.

Entity Rarity: Uniqueness and potential of the entity. Roll 1d6+1(day bonus); Rolled 5

Rare

– Near-forgotten. Bound to deep lore or sealed zones.

Entity Rank: Strength and development stage of the entity. Roll 1d6+1(day bonus): Rolled 4

Tier 4 Journeyman – Powerful, feared. Can affect battlefields or rituals alone.

-

Joshua stood at the heart of the labyrinthine archives, his hand resting on the ancient tome before him. It was a relic, older than anything he could fathom, filled with cryptic scripts and forgotten secrets. The air around him seemed to hum with power as he focused on his task.

He had been guided here by the whispers of the library toward this very moment. The True Name he uncovered was no ordinary name. It was a key, a cipher, the essence of her being locked within the ether. And now, it was within his grasp.

The prism before him shimmered with an otherworldly glow. He had seen this device before, used to draw out ancient names, binding them to those brave or foolish enough to seek them. As he whispered the incantation, the prism activated, its facets flickering with arcane energy.

At first, there was only silence, then the faintest of sounds—the hum of a dimension breaking open. The prism began to absorb the name, pulling it from the void. Hundreds of names passed through the crystal, their forms briefly visible before vanishing into the depths of the magical lattice. Some were familiar, some were lost echoes of ancient gods, but one name stood apart, glowing brighter than the rest.

Nytheris.

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/3518505954642850/

It was the name of the voidborn, a lady of entropy, the one who had traversed realms and shattered the limits of the stars. Her name, vast and incomprehensible, shone like a beacon within the prism, and Joshua understood—he had just claimed something far beyond his understanding.

She was no ordinary voidborn, but what with a great history. She was part of the Illithid invasion of the stars, warring with Star-Kings, commanding a Void Leviathan, betraying the Eternal Watchers, and Fracturing of the Nexus.

Nytheris, Harbinger of Oblivion

Race: Voidborn - They are beings of immense power, made from the fabric of the Void itself. Their existence is tied to the cosmic balance, playing the role of both observer and destroyer. They are driven by their curiosity, the desire to witness the destruction and rebirth of worlds, but they are not malevolent in nature—rather, they are agents of entropy, ensuring the endless cycle of creation and collapse continues. While they may seem distant and detached, they are a necessary part of the grand design of the multiverse, forever watching and waiting in the shadows between realms.

Background:

Powers(5): Voidwalk(teleportation) - Ability to move between dimensions.(-5 mana)

Deletion(attack) - Ability to completely erase something.(-10 mana)

Null Zone(anti-magic) - Can create a nullification zone where nothing works(-20 mana)

Oblivion State(amplification) - A heightened state drawing upon the power of oblivion to enhance you(-15 mana)

Nothingness Mind(mental defence) - Ability to go into the zone of nothingness and able to withstand any psychic attacks, mind-controlling, and illusionary(-10 mana)

Benefits(4): Void Resilience - Can endure decaying forces of entropy, extreme environments, whether it's the crushing weight of void space, time distortions, or extreme magical stresses.

Shroud of Silence - Gained veil of absolute silence and absence. Becomes invisible to different forms of divination, tracking spells, and mystical scrying

Echo of the Forgotten - Can access the memories and knowledge of long-dead beings

Śūnyatā Mark - ??

-

Day 6 – Zarvian (+1 Beasts & Exploration)

Morning: Club: The Librarians 2(Training)

They trained in The Wayward Atlas once more—but today, the scrolls were silent. Instead, the room had transformed: vaulted iron walls, sealed gates, runic traps still thrumming with active sigils. It was a simulated Relic Vault—the kind found at the end of buried cities, beneath god-wrecked temples, or in the backs of forgotten minds. Madame Quell stood above them on a floating dais, arms crossed behind her back. "Today," she said, "you will fail. That is expected. But fail smart."

Each team had to disable magical tripwires, trick guardian glyphs, and bypass encrypted ward puzzles without triggering the full wrath of an ancient vault. Some traps bled time itself. Others whispered lies about the room's layout. One student was turned inside out temporarily—just long enough to respect the challenge.

Joshua partnered with Klyara and Tim, moving like a scout squad. He handled the script-logic on a proximity curse while Klyara distracted a construct sentinel with false heat traces, and Tim… vanished, only to reappear having already solved the glyph-lock from behind. They didn't succeed fully—but they got deeper than expected. Quell's final words were quiet, but sharp: "Remember: the vault doesn't care how clever you are. It only cares how prepared."

Skill Gained! Enigma Unraveling: +1 Bonus to disarming magical traps, solving intricate magical puzzles, and bypassing mystic locks.

-

Afternoon: Arcane Scholars Circle Gathering — The Exchange of Notes

Coming to the Hall of Contemplation—a planar annex folded outside ordinary space. The entrance was a narrow, gold-rimmed doorway between two mirrors, visible only at noon. Inside: a cathedral of intellect. It was not built, but seemingly thought into existence—its vaulted ceiling shimmered with constellations made from shifting ink. Walls were covered in floating thesis scrolls, each one slowly turning, annotated by spectral quills. Magical diagrams unfolded midair like blooming flowers, shifting with every new idea spoken aloud. Every surface pulsed faintly with compressed theories, unresolved paradoxes, and chained footnotes.

In the center, a massive obsidian table ringed with seventeen crystal chairs served as the high platform. Around that—ascending amphitheater-style platforms—sat scholars and students, arranged not by year or power, but by contribution. Here, social standing meant nothing. Only your research mattered.

The Arcane Scholars Circle was not a club or secret society. It was a conclave. A seasonal gathering of the school's most gifted (and unbearably eccentric) minds—magi who treated magical theory like religion and the exchange of notes like sacred warfare. They are devoted to high-theory magic, advanced spell research, and scholarly prestige.

Joshua sat near the outer tiers. Where the lowly went and those not part of this circle. Like all Study circles they were open to the wider student body to come and listen in, and contribute here if they wanted.

The air buzzed with heated dialogue: "Your notes on astral leakage during recursive summoning contradict Lorrick's theorem—"

"Because Lorrick's dead and wrong. He never accounted for lunar attunement in shifted dimensional anchors."

"I felt your binding circle collapse through the paper. If your containment runes require that many nested iterations, you're not refining spellwork—you're hiding incompetence."

"Gentlemen. Please. Let's pretend we're not all one duel away from becoming feral liches."

Joshua listened as two 5th-year enchanters dissected a failed attempt at spontaneous transmutation using emotion-triggered sigils. A trio of potionneers were exchanging vials of untested brews—one of which growled when uncorked. The highest tier students spoke about Chrono-looping, Spellbirth Theory, and Dimensional Imprinting on Souls—topics that made even the walls shudder slightly in anticipation. He said little—but he absorbed everything.

The debates rolled on like distant thunder—Chrono-loop debates in the center, sigil sequencing on the side. Joshua lingered in the outer tier, a half-forgotten shadow in a place built for brilliance. He scanned the room.

Every conversation here was a transaction, even if no coin ever changed hands. Insight was currency. Research was status. If he wanted better notes on Magic Evolution, he'd have to trade. And right now, he didn't have much worth trading. Still—he stood.

"Excuse me," he said, approaching a cluster of fourth-years locked in debate over soul-thread entanglements in sympathetic enchantment. "I'm looking for material related to magical evolution—particularly spell-type transformation or affinity enhancement through external stimuli. Preferably familiar-linked."

One of them—a lean girl with lenses alight with scrying runes—looked him up and down. "Evolution theory? That's heavy stuff for a first-year."

"I'm aware. That's why I'm asking." A second student, lounging in a hover-seat of runecloth, sipped from a levitating teacup. "Depends what you're offering, freshman. We don't just hand out pillarwork."

Joshua nodded, unshouldering his satchel. "Two things." He pulled out his first research notes.

"It's unrefined. Basic-level experimentation on personal reinforcement magic, resonance testing through low-tier familiar bond. It's not impressive." The group glanced at it with the nonchalance of upperclassmen glutted on better texts. One girl actually yawned.

"And this," Joshua continued, pulling out a second sheaf of notes. Annotated Evolution Codex he'd purchased at the Bazaar. The sigils glimmered dully—functional, not fancy. "Standard tier codex. Decent cross-references, no predictive mapping, but solid empirical logs." The silence that followed wasn't mocking—it was intrigued.

The scrying girl tilted her head. "It charts mana resonance changes based on emotional bonding stages?" She tapped a glyph to record his name. "Fine," she said. "We'll give you something."

From a shifting pouch stitched into her robe, she pulled a slate and tapped it. The slate shimmered, unfolding into a minor research folio titled: Sympathetic Evolution in Bound Constructs

"I'll take it." They handed it over and he gave them a copy of his research notes.

"Don't embarrass us," one of them added.

Joshua smiled faintly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

With that exchange done, Joshua pocketed the folio and moved deeper into the chamber. The voices of the Arcane Scholars Circle rose and fell like a storm of intellect—layered theories, magical models, insults disguised as technicalities. Every word was a ward, every breath a bargaining chip. He found another cluster—a trio of robed students huddled near an ethereal chalkboard that updated itself mid-thought. Floating glyphs pulsed between them, mutating as they spoke. A sign of serious work.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Joshua cleared his throat. "I'm looking to purchase research notes. Magic Evolution—ideally tied to affinity mutation or hybridization."

One of them, a lanky student with gloved hands and a hovering brass quill, barely looked up. "Define your price range."

"Define your goods, I got the mana stones!" Joshua replied. He had no care about blowing his newly gained wealth on power. All that mastered was becoming stronger here in this Academy, his wealth would do him nothing if he died in the end.

The brass quill dipped twice, scribbling into a blank sheet. "We've got something. One's trash. One's real. Depends how much you want to risk."

A girl in a stiff-collared cloak raised a hand. "Don't listen to Marrik. He means we've got two notes." She turned her wrist, conjuring a translucent arcane tablet—an ancient-style mind-slate.

"Spellform Drift via Cross-Domain Bonding. Research from a failed cross-bonding trial between a Beast-type familiar and a Spirit-class wielder. Evolution didn't complete, but the spellform started to warp. Recorded side effects. Partial success."

Joshua nodded. "I'll take it." He didn't even argue. He passed them over the mana stones they wanted. In this place, information had its own economy—and he only had his money.

- 400 Mana Stones

The girl handed over the slate. "Careful," she added. "There's a side note about memory erosion near the end. The author… forgot how the trial started."

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "Cursed?"

"Not cursed," Marrik said with a grin. "Just unfinished." Joshua tucked it carefully into his satchel. One more piece gained.

-

Current: Magic Evolution Research Progress (72/1,000)

Roll for exchange; 1d6

1- Very bad(+5 progress) 2- Subpar(+15 progress) 3- Okay(+25 progress) 4- Good(+50 progress) 5- Great(+75 progress) 6- Amazing(+100 progress)

Rolled 2. Subpar(+15 progress)

Roll for what you buy; 1d6

1- Very bad(+5 progress) 2- Subpar(+15 progress) 3- Okay(+25 progress) 4- Good(+50 progress) 5- Great(+75 progress) 6- Amazing(+100 progress)

Rolled 4. Good(+50 progress)

New: Magic Evolution Research Progress (137/1,000)

-

Do you want to Patronage someone?

You are now flush with cash instead of doing all the hard work like a plebeian patron, someone to do your research for you. But know that it comes with a big price ticket!

Voted Yes

Roll for what researcher you get; 1d6

1- Very bad(+5 progress monthly & -50 mana stones monthly)

2- Subpar(+15 progress monthly & -100 mana stones monthly)

3- Okay(+25 progress monthly & -250 mana stones monthly)

4- Good(+50 progress monthly & -500 mana stones monthly)

5- Great(+75 progress monthly & -750 mana stones monthly)

6- Amazing(+100 progress monthly & -1,000 mana stones monthly)

Rolled 2. Patroned Subpar researcher

-

Researcher Patronage

Joshua leaned against a cold obsidian pillar, his fingers brushing the satchel of newly acquired research. But he already knew—he couldn't do this alone. His time was too limited, his training too scattered. If he wanted to evolve his magic as soon as possible, he'd need help. And help could be bought.

He scanned the room—not for the loudest voices, but the hungriest eyes. Scholars who stayed late, clutching their parchments like lifelines. Students who'd kill to get funding for forbidden theory or arcane experimentation. He found her near the back alcove.

A pale-skinned shadow elf with sunken cheeks and ink-stained fingertips, muttering to herself while tuning a sphere of reflective glass. Her table was a mess of charts, coded glyphs, mana-imbued notebooks, and something bound in stitched flesh. She didn't even look up as Joshua approached.

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/5277724558603859/

"You're a theorist," he said.

"I'm a specialist in familiar research," she replied sharply, eyes still locked on her calculations. "And I'm broke."

Joshua smiled. "Perfect. How would you like a patron?"

That made her pause. "I don't take charity," she said. "But if you want results... I can deliver. Monthly output. Experiments. Drafted codices. You cover my requisition costs—materials, summon taxes, hazard fees—and I'll give you exclusive rights to the findings."

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a pouch—filled with mana stones, gleaming like captured stars. "Monthly stipend. Ten upfront. More as long as the work continues."

The elf blinked. Her hunger disguised as professionalism cracked just a little. "Name's Selvya Draen. Circle 2. I need one week to finalize my current runeset trial, then I can start."

"Deal." They sealed the agreement with a Patron Contract, drawn in mutual ink across a floating arc-script. The symbol hovered, burned, and sank into both their badges.

[Patronage Formed: Selvya Draen]
Specialty: Familiar Research(+2 Bonus)
Monthly Cost: 100 mana stone
Deliverables: 1 Research Codex per moon cycle, exclusive rights granted(1d15 roll)

As Selvya returned to her work, already sketching new layouts with wild focus, Joshua allowed himself a rare exhale.

He had made a gamble. Not just on the evolution of his Reinforcement magic. But on someone else's obsession. Let's hope it was worth it.

-

Evening: SpellNet(Browse for new spells, information, or updates in the magical community)

Joshua glanced down at the copper badge now secured around his wrist. A simple object, yet one that marked his place in this vast and ever-growing institution. The soft hum of the badge as it activated was almost comforting—a silent reminder of how far he had come, even if it felt like a small step in comparison to the giants around him.

"JOSHUA SAMUELSON — COPPER BADGE" displayed across the screen in his mind's eye, his unique student identifier flashing in bold letters. The badge pulsed gently, almost like a heartbeat, as it processed the necessary details.

He could already feel the limitation of the badge's power—his access was clearly restricted. The Tier 1 classification was the lowest within the Academy, and it came with its fair share of limitations. SpellNet was available, but only the most basic access was unlocked. This wasn't like the golden-tier badges that the elite wore—no, those granted unlimited access to the full spectrum of magic, knowledge, and the many other hidden realms of the Academy.

"No time to worry about that now," he muttered under his breath, turning his thoughts back to his immediate goals. Striding into his room, Joshua dropped his bag on the floor next to his bed and cracked open his badge. He hadn't used it all that much but now he opened up the spell internet.

He tapped on the SpellNet option, the limited magic web flickering to life. He could search basic information and spells related to his current studies—though it was clear that deeper research would require higher access levels. For now, it was all he had, and he needed to make the most of it. "Username:" the badge requested, prompting him to pick a moniker for his online presence. Joshua thought for a moment, then typed in a name that felt appropriate—Sharpshooter!

He clicked "confirm" and was immediately flooded with a host of student discussions, rumors, and updates. The first thing that appeared was a public forum for first and second year students. His access to more advanced or higher-ranked students' posts was restricted, but for now, he focused on what he could read—mostly updates about life at the Academy.

The threads around him pulsed, expanding as if they were alive, resonating with his own heartbeat. Every flicker was a new piece of information, a new discovery, a spell, a person, a lesson, or a rumor. Joshua could almost reach out and touch them, but instead of his fingers, his mind seemed to stretch out, feeling the knowledge wrap around him. He reached forward, the sensation like dipping his hand into liquid starlight, and tapped into the first thread that caught his eye.

Joshua felt a pull toward "Student Forums" as the next thread opened before him. This part was different; it felt raw, less controlled. Students' voices, opinions, complaints, and excitement buzzed through it like an energy storm. He scrolled through various discussions. Some were mundane, others were serious debates.

[Public Discussion: Year 1 - "We survived Week 4. Here's what to expect next"]

TrollBait1: "I'm telling you, the pyromancy drills are a joke. These so-called 'Field Trials' are just ways for the instructors to watch us flounder and look cool in front of us."

ShadowReaper: "Wait, you mean you didn't make it past the third stage of that drill? I almost lost my arm to that automatic target system, but still made it. Real test of a student's grit, I'd say."

LilithRose: "Don't be a wimp, TrollBait1. The Field Trials are to teach you when to use the right heat, not to show off."

Joshua snorted as he read through the posts, sensing the usual amount of bravado mixed with frustration that came with first-year students. His fingers tapped the screen, scrolling through more posts, most of which centered around drills, minor complaints about professors, and the occasional post about the latest gossip.

[Combat Post: "Latest Fight Update – Dueling Circuit"]

GlitchKing: "Anyone going to challenge me at the Dueling Circuit? I just took down PyroFlare. Piece of cake."

PyroFlare: "Don't listen to him. He cheated. I've got a rematch scheduled—GlitchKing's time is up."

BaldyMonk: "The Dueling Circuit's becoming a bloodbath. That GlitchKing guy is getting too cocky for my liking. I'll be avoiding him."

Joshua smirked at the thread. GlitchKing had a reputation for being relentless. But Joshua knew firsthand that the duels in the Arena weren't always as impressive as they were online. Still, the chance for a good fight always loomed around the corner.

[Rumor Mill: "Academy Gossip & Updates"]

DragonLord: "Did anyone else hear the bell ring across the campus earlier? They say it's a warning sign from the inner circle. Something's brewing at the Academy. Teachers are on high alert."

EonWanderer: "You're overthinking it. It's probably just the regular drills. I heard from my second-year cousin that we're getting an 'unofficial' visit from a powerful delegation soon. They're even opening up the Vaults for it."

SpellWeaver: "Ha! Vaults. I'll believe it when I see it. My source says the Vaults are empty, or just used as a cover-up for something bigger. This whole thing smells like a setup."

Joshua paused. The mention of the Arcane Vaults piqued his interest. Rumors about ancient knowledge being uncovered there were always circulating. But this felt different. He scanned down, eager to learn more. And of course what was drawing everyone attention was what happened last week.

[Academy News: "Breaking Stories and Announcements"]

NoxLunar: "Hey! Still can't believe there was an invasion. I heard that the faculty conquered their foothold, and are mustering "

KnightOfTheTable: "Wonderful, many of our classmates died or got seriously injured in the invasion. Wish we could participate, and give them a piece of our mind."

ShadowFrost98: "Less competition, anyways I uncovered who was behind this mess. Two stand out. One is Astaire, a Gold ranked Star Elf first-year, and Joshua, a Copper ranked human first-year."

LilithRose: "Don't know if we should be horrified or proud that first-years are getting into so much trouble."

Closing out of it, Joshua didn't know how he should feel getting exposed like that. He was now in the spotlight, drawing a whole lot of attention to himself, and recognition was a double edged sword. His name was now being tossed around, debated, and dissected like a topic of academic gossip.

The discussion continues, with students sharing their theories, concerns, and predictions about the Star-Eaters and the ongoing invasion about to be launched. The uncertainty looms, but one thing is clear: every student at the Academy is caught in the undertow of something far greater than themselves.

-

Day 7 – Hearthrest (+1 Recovery & Meditation)

Morning: Rest – Place In Between(Stress)

Joshua awoke with the familiar sensation of tension in his body, a lingering aftereffect of the trials he had endured recently. The world outside felt heavy, but here in the Place In Between, everything was quieter, more still. It was a rare day for Joshua to take a break, but after everything he'd been through—the Star-Eater invasion, the combat in the Star-Cradle, the negotiations with cosmic beings—he felt like he needed it.

He settled into the space, closing his eyes and letting the calm energy of the Liminal Space wrap around him. His body relaxed, his thoughts slowed, and for a while, the weight on his mind lifted. This was the kind of peace he rarely found, even in the deepest of slumbers. The air here was refreshing, almost ethereal, and time seemed to stretch out. The Place In Between was designed to be a place of true rest, far from the chaotic hum of the academy, a rare commodity for someone like him.

Stress 7/10 - 9(classes)= -2/10

Stress Recovery: 1d5+3 Location Bonus +1 Day Bonus

New Stress:

-

Afternoon: Basement Court

After his rest, Joshua decided to visit The Basement Court, his hidden faction within the academy. It was a secret group of students who rejected the elitist structure and prestige of the more formal factions. They weren't here to play the game—they were here to reclaim forgotten magic, secrets, and parts of the academy lost to time.

The place itself was a mix of old, forgotten study rooms, hidden alcoves, and rooms packed with dusty books and magical artifacts that no one cared about. The members were a ragtag group of rebels, misfits, and outsiders. They weren't concerned with the same things as most other students; power, control, or legacy didn't drive them. They wanted knowledge, and they wanted it for its own sake.

Joshua had made his way deeper into the basement—the heart of their secret domain. Here, among the students, he was just one of the many who had rejected the conventional ways of the academy. Today, the Basement Court was alive with activity, and Joshua was about to embark on a collaborative project with his new factionmates.

Unlike the solitary work he was used to, this project would require teamwork, each member bringing their unique expertise to the table. The task was clear: create something that would elevate their faction and perhaps even make waves within the academy.

"Gather around," Joshua called out, it was busy today as their was excitement today.

"Listen up," Helix Amra shouted, the old techno-occultists. She was his right hand woman now. She was stern, and hard working, plus she had certain skills that could help manage a fleeting new faction.

Joshua looked around at the diverse group of students, each with their own set of skills, from Kaela with her necromantic knowledge to Flick's skill in sigil hacking, and Mirtha's ability to manipulate language magic. He could already sense the synergy between them, each individual bringing something essential to the table. "Alright as you all know today we will be creating something unique—a spell, ritual, or artifact that reflects us. So, let's think big. And any idea is welcomed!" He leaned forward, resting his hand on the table, and then began taking suggested ideas.

"We can make a Whispering Sigilstone," Kaela Moorbind, their resident necromancer said, his voice filled with the promise of discovery. "This would be a sentient stone, a relic that records the voices of those who've walked these halls—students, professors, lost magical orders—anyone whose story was forgotten. It would allow us to unlock ancient secrets, maybe even guide us to where those forgotten magics were hidden."

Helix eyes gleamed at the thought. "I could see it—stone formed from necrotic energy, binding the voices of those who passed away. It could be an invaluable tool for us to learn things that have been buried for centuries." Joshua smiled at her enthusiasm before moving on.

"What about an Echoing Memento. We can communicate with the lost spirits of the Academy, their echoes, their memories. We could converse with those who once held immense knowledge but are now nothing more than whispers in the void. These spirits could be of legendary figures or forgotten students, and their guidance would be something no one else could access," Irna Vetch whispered softly.

Mirtha tapped the edge of the table, nodding slowly. "Could we use that to learn forgotten spells or gain insight into the Academy's hidden past? Sounds like a powerful artifact to me." Joshua felt a growing excitement as he looked at his team.

"How does a Time Weaver's Loom sound? It's capable of stitching together magical items that were once broken or incomplete, turning them into something whole again. It's a way to reclaim lost knowledge, forgotten artifacts, and unearth everything that the Academy has buried over the years," Qinra Vox suggested.

Flick, who had been quiet until now, spoke up, his voice soft but thoughtful. "A loom… a device for reassembling pieces of the past. I like it. We could even use it to unlock forgotten memories or even spells tied to long-dead sorcerers."

Joshua's eyes gleamed with determination. "I think these are great ideas that we could work with. The Sigilstone could guide us, the Memento could bring the voices of the past into our present, and the Loom could reassemble the broken pieces of their legacy. It would be a creation unlike anything the Academy has seen in centuries."

The group was silent for a moment, each of them contemplating the potential of what they could create together. Joshua could feel the sense of camaraderie building between them as they realized the power of what they were about to embark on—a collective mission to unearth what had been long forgotten and make it their own.

"Alright," he said with a grin, "let's get to work. This is just the beginning."

What would you like to create? Share ideas!

Voted Echoing Memento!

-

Letting everyone vote, the winner was the Echoing Memento, they gathered in their makeshift workshop in the Basement Court, a hollow space beneath the Academy's ancient foundations, surrounded by discarded relics, old books, and half-completed artifacts. The air was thick with the hum of untapped magical energy, the sort of space where ideas could be born and forged into reality.

Joshua stood at the center, laying out the basic concept: "The Echoing Memento should be a relic that allows us to communicate with the lost spirits and voices of the Academy—its past, its forgotten legacies. We'll need to create a vessel capable of capturing their essence, a way for these voices to be preserved, and finally, a mechanism that lets us interact with them."

The first thing they needed was a container—a vessel to hold the voices of the past. They needed something that could absorb and store intangible echoes, memories that no longer had a physical form. Nomi Cutter, the forgeborn child soldier turned artificer, took the lead on this task. She was skilled in salvage crafting, and her understanding of constructs was second to none. She scoured the room for parts—scrap metal, old glass vials, enchanted wood from forgotten students' shrines—and began to forge a spherical orb.

Kaela Moorbind, the necromancy enthusiast, contributed by infusing the vessel with an ethereal layer of necrotic magic, something that would allow it to interact with spirits. As she worked, she whispered the ancient chants of forgotten realms, binding the orb to the ethereal plane.

"You know," Kaela said as she worked, her eyes fixed on the orb, "we can't just catch the echoes. We need to filter them, too. Otherwise, it'll just be a cacophony of noise."

Tim, the pickpocket-turned-sigil hacker, entered the equation next. He sketched symbols on the surface of the orb, intricate, layered sigils designed to weave the voices into coherent strings. He was meticulous—each line, each curve, a key to unlocking a different voice from the past. "Think of it like a password," Tim explained as he worked. "The sigils are the lock, and the voices are the key. Only the ones with the right passcode can unlock the memories we want."

With the vessel complete, they turned their attention to the next step: the resonance. To communicate with the spirits of the Academy's past, they needed a resonance that could vibrate in harmony with the echoes of their voices. That's where Mirtha Dews, the Glyphsinger, came into play.

Mirtha, with her deep understanding of language magic, began to carve arcane symbols on the orb, each one representing an emotion or memory—grief, joy, triumph, sorrow. These glyphs weren't just written words; they were imbued with the essence of the experiences they symbolized. "Think of it as a map of emotions," Mirtha said, her eyes glowing faintly as she worked. "These glyphs will resonate with the spirits we want to call. Their essence will be drawn to these symbols, like a moth to flame."

The final piece of the puzzle was the trigger, the mechanism that would allow them to access the voices. Ferris Gale, the gadgeteer and elemental resonance tuner, designed a magical key. This key would allow them to activate the Echoing Memento and pull the voices from the ether. The key was an elegant, small device made of enchanted brass and crystal, inscribed with runes of amplification and connection.

"Once we insert the key, it'll act as a conduit," Ferris explained. "It'll complete the circuit, letting the magic flow through the vessel and activate the stored voices."

With everything in place, the team gathered in a circle around the vessel. Kaela held the orb, her fingers tracing the final sigils as she whispered a binding incantation. Tim, Nomi, and Mirtha stood by, ready to assist. Joshua held the key, feeling its power thrumming in his palm. "Alright, let's see if this thing works!"

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/83035186878855916/

20 members[12 Copper(1d6) + 8 Iron(1d4)]= Roll 1d104 or 12d6 and 8d4

Threshold Needed 100 First project 50

Rolled 75! Great Success!

Able to call forth students, instructors, and professors!

-

The moment the key was inserted, a pulse of magical energy surged through the vessel. The orb flickered with light, and then, for a brief second, it was silent.

Then, a voice. "Who calls upon the echoes of the past?" It was faint at first, then clearer, as if the vessel was awakening. More voices followed, some soft and distant, others loud and urgent, as if they had been waiting for this moment. The voices of long-dead scholars, forgotten students, legendary figures, and lost mages all began to speak at once. The air hummed with their presence.

The first voice that Joshua heard was that of a long-dead instructor, their voice raspy but filled with knowledge."I am Instructor Aldraes, teacher of Gem Enchanting at the Academy," the voice rasped. "If you are worthy, then listen well, young ones. I am willing to teach any of you who are instructed in my lost arts."

Joshua smiled, his heart pounding. This was it—the beginning of their journey. The Echoing Memento had been created, and with it, they could now hear the lost voices of the Academy, unlocking secrets long buried.

The Basement Court had created a masterpiece, a relic that would change the course of their future, a key to unlocking the past and wielding its power for the future.

-

Evening: Academy Mission

Roll 1d6 for mission danger level!

1- Deadly(Run for the Hills) 2- High Risk(stay away!) 3- Moderate(be careful) 4- Okay(expect blood pumping action) 5- Non threatening(you will only break a sweat) 6- Breeze(like stealing candy from a baby)

Rolled 3. Moderate threat

-

As part of the Academy's monthly student evaluations, Joshua has been assigned a mission to investigate a haunting in the long-forgotten wing of the Academy. The mission is simple: uncover the truth behind the disturbances, identify the source of the haunting, and restore peace to the section of the Academy that has been abandoned for years.

Joshua didn't know how, but all he got was a letter next to his bed side. He had been waiting for this, dreading it a bit. This was something all students had to do, monthly missions from the Academy.

The Academy Missions are part of a unique and critical evaluation process at the Academy of Magic. Every student, regardless of rank, must undergo these missions at least once a month. These assignments serve as tests—designed not just to evaluate magical skill, but also the student's capacity for problem-solving, leadership, adaptability, and moral judgment. These missions are often tailored to the student's unique abilities

Looking at his Objectives that were laid out: Investigate the abandoned section of the Academy. Identify the source of the haunting. Subdue or contain any hostile entities, and restore the area to a state of peace.

Getting prepared and he went on his way to his mission. Coming to the destination of the place he was to investigate, he took it in. The place was your typical haunted house which most likely had actual ghosts.

Pulling out his training gun, he entered the crumbling halls of the abandoned section, the air grew unnaturally cold, and an eerie silence filled the space. He come across old, cracked portraits and ancient tapestries that hang loosely from the walls, most of which have faded into near obscurity. The sense of foreboding deepens as you notice strange, whispered voices in the air, seemingly coming from nowhere.

Joshua pushed deeper into the labyrinth of decaying corridors, where the only sound is the creaking of the old stone beneath your feet. He found himself in the the place oldest wing—a place known for its more controversial historical practices—where students who were once deemed "unworthy" were sent to either die in obscurity or disappear entirely.

Joshua advanced further, the temperature drops, and a sudden rush of ghostly figures emerges, their features twisted and contorted in anguish. Their glowing, translucent forms flicker in and out of existence as they begin to circle your team. They were silent, their eyes hollow with rage. He could hear the whispering into his minds, feeding off his darkest fears.

As the spectral figures drifted around him, their presence felt like an oppressive weight. The air grew thicker, colder still, and every step Joshua took seemed to draw the ghosts closer. Their eyes, once human, now empty voids of sorrow and rage, locked onto him. Their forms flickered, disappearing into thin air before reappearing in the next corner of his vision.

The whispering in his mind was becoming unbearable. Each word was a jagged, painful thought—images of the dead, memories of students who had vanished into this forsaken part of the Academy long ago. Joshua gritted his teeth, trying to push the intrusive thoughts aside, but they lingered, clawing at his sanity. "Why are you here?" one voice echoed in his mind, icy and laden with the bitterness of centuries. "Leave us be... or join us in the afterlife..."

Joshua steadied his breath and gripped his gun tighter. He knew better than to act rashly. These weren't just random spirits—they were the residual rage of the Academy's past. The more he ventured into their domain, the more their presence consumed him, threatening to drown him in the anguish they'd been trapped in. "What do you want?" he asked aloud, his voice steady despite the terror clawing at his chest.

The ghosts didn't answer immediately. Their glowing eyes flickered in unison, and for a moment, Joshua thought they might simply disappear, leaving him to finish his task in peace. But then one of them stepped forward. It was a woman, her ghostly figure shimmering with the faint remnants of her former life. She looked as though she might have once been a student—young, hopeful—but the anguish twisted her features now into something almost unrecognizable.

"You cannot restore what has been broken," she said, her voice a chilling whisper that was both inside and outside of his mind. "The Academy never cared for us... not when we were alive, and not now."

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/66568900734840127/

Joshua's heart skipped a beat. He knew, somehow, that this was not just a random haunting. These spirits were tied to the very fabric of the Academy's dark past, where students who had failed, who had been discarded, now lingered in a twisted form of existence. "Who... were you?" he asked carefully, keeping his voice low.

The woman's hollow eyes met his, and for a moment, the temperature in the air dropped even further. "We were forgotten... cast aside when we were no longer useful. The Academy buried us, and now we rise, seeking justice for the wrongs committed against us."

Joshua swallowed, understanding the gravity of the situation. He had stumbled upon something far darker—a rebellion of spirits with a vendetta against the Academy itself. He couldn't just banish them or send them to rest. He needed to find the source of their suffering—the cause of their resentment—and put an end to it.

Suddenly, the floor beneath him groaned, and the spirits began to swarm. The whispers became louder, more frantic. Joshua could feel their power growing, feeding off the pain that had built up over years of neglect. "You cannot undo what has been done," the woman hissed, as the other spirits closed in. "The Academy must pay for its sins... as we once paid for our failures!"

"I'm not here to destroy you," he said, his voice steady, though his heart pounded with the weight of the situation. "I'm here to change things. To fix what was broken. You don't need to fight anymore. Your voices are being heard."

The spirits paused, their ethereal forms flickering in the low light. The woman—the leader, perhaps—looked at him, her hollow eyes searching his face for any sign of deceit. The room grew still, and the whispers faded into a tense silence.

Joshua took a step forward, his gaze firm. "I've been working to help those that the Academy cast aside—students like you. Those who have been forgotten. The Basement Court, my faction, we're building something new. A place where those abandoned by the Academy can come together, where they can find strength in their failures, and reclaim what's rightfully theirs."

The woman's form flickered again, as if she were trying to process his words. "You... you've helped others?" she asked, her voice fragile, yet filled with an almost hopeful tremor.

"Yes," Joshua said. "I've helped many—students who were discarded, overlooked, or sent to their doom. We fight for the ones left behind, just like you were. We've reclaimed our power. Together, we can make things right. I've built a space where those without voices can find theirs. Where those who were never meant to be great can become something more. You don't need to haunt this place anymore. You don't need to live in this cycle of pain."

A quiet murmur passed through the ghosts. Joshua could feel the shift in the air, the heavy weight of their anger beginning to ease. The woman looked at him, her form now barely flickering, as if she were torn between holding on to her anger and embracing the possibility of peace.

"You have given us hope," the woman said, her voice soft now, no longer filled with the edge of wrath. "But can it be enough? Can the ones who have been cast aside truly be saved?"

Joshua nodded. "Yes. Together, we can save them. But we need to work together, not tear down everything we fought for." He lowered his weapon, showing her that he meant no harm. "We're stronger when we build, not when we destroy."

The woman's figure, now almost ethereal, gave Joshua one last look. "We were forgotten, abandoned in the shadows," she whispered. "But your words, your actions, show us that maybe there is still a place for us. Perhaps... there is peace after all."

With that, she and the others began to fade, their presence no longer oppressive but gentle, as if they had finally found rest. The temperature in the room lifted, the chill of the haunting receding as the spirits vanished, leaving nothing behind but a lingering sense of calm.

Joshua stood there, breathing deeply, the weight of what had just happened settling on him. He had done it. He had freed them, not by force, but by showing them that there was something beyond the pain they had been carrying for centuries.

As the last of the spirits faded, Joshua turned and walked out of the room, the haunted wing now peaceful. The Academy had been marked with the ghosts of its past, but now, those marks were gone. Joshua had not only saved the spirits, but he had also taken a step toward his own future, a future where he would continue to fight for those who had been cast aside, just like the spirits had been.

The haunting was over, and the Academy's darkest corner had been cleansed, for now. Joshua didn't know what the next trial would be, but he felt more ready than ever to face whatever lay ahead. The whispers of the past had been silenced, but the echoes of his own legacy were just beginning.