The morning sun bathed Tngthar in a soft golden hue as Larin, Ngieri, Gwendon, and Rinku walked toward the Hermeticus Magicus Academy. The sprawling campus sat at the edge of the vilge, its towering spires and intricate carvings a testament to centuries of magical knowledge and tradition. Students milled about the courtyard, their robes swirling as they discussed spells, theory, and the test gossip.

  Ngieri gnced at Larin. "It feels strange coming back here. We've been through so much, and yet this pce… it hasn't changed."

  Larin nodded. "It hasn't. But we have. Let's see how much they've taught while we've been away."

  They approached the main building, a massive structure adorned with arcane symbols that glowed faintly in the daylight. Inside, the familiar scent of parchment and incense filled the air. Students hurried past, some nodding respectfully at the group, others whispering as they recognized the figures who had become something of legends within the academy.

  Professor Ewin's office was tucked away on the third floor, a cozy room lined with bookshelves that sagged under the weight of ancient tomes. The professor himself stood at a lectern, marking papers with a quill that moved faster than seemed natural.

  "Ah, there you are!" Ewin's deep voice boomed as he spotted them at the door. "Come in, come in! It's not every day I'm visited by heroes—though some might say wayward students."

  Ngieri smirked. "Heroes? I think that's a stretch."

  Ewin waved them in, gesturing to a circle of plush chairs by the window. "Sit. I've just finished my css, so you have me to yourselves for a while."

  They settled in, and for the next hour, the room buzzed with discussion. Ewin delved into magical philosophy, expounding on the intricacies of mana flow and spell deconstruction. Gwendon, ever curious, asked sharp questions about spell yering, while Rinku discussed her findings in the archives and how they intersected with Ewin's theories.

  Eventually, the conversation shifted. Ewin leaned back in his chair, his gaze growing distant. "You know, I wasn't always a professor. Before this," he gestured to the room, "I fought alongside Chief Zakop during the Great War against the Kirat Empire."

  The group straightened, their interest piqued. Larin leaned forward. "You fought with Zakop? What was it like?"

  Ewin chuckled, rolling up the sleeve of his robe to reveal a jagged scar running along his forearm. "It was brutal. The Kirat weren't just soldiers; they were conquerors. Their mages could level entire vilges with a single spell. We were outnumbered, outgunned, but we had something they didn't: resilience."

  He pointed to the scar. "This? A Kirat soldier's bde. Got it in the Battle of Zima Heights. Zakop… he saved my life that day. He's a stubborn man, but he'd throw himself into the fire for his people."

  Ngieri's expression softened. "I can see why he's so respected."

  Ewin nodded. "He deserves it. But enough about that. Let's talk about you four. Leaving your education to fight? I should scold you… and I will." He fixed them with a stern look. "But I also understand. The world doesn't wait for us to finish our studies. Still, I hope most students don't follow your example. We need thinkers as much as we need fighters. Though you all are thinkers, I still reread your essays and thesis sometimes. haha"

  The group exchanged sheepish smiles, and Ewin's sternness melted into a grin. "I don't think we have enough time today, maybe come again ter when you have time for a week or a day ?"

  After bidding Ewin farewell, they wandered the halls, visiting other professors. The academy, though familiar, felt different to Larin. It wasn't just a pce of learning anymore; it was a symbol of what they were fighting to protect.

  Their next stop was Professor Tova's workshop, a sprawling, cluttered space filled with alchemical apparatus and glowing vials. Tova was a small, wiry woman with wild gray hair and a perpetually smudged face. She greeted them with an enthusiastic wave, nearly knocking over a beaker in the process.

  "Ah, my favorite troublemakers!" Tova excimed. "What brings you to my humble den of chaos?"

  Rinku ughed. "We wanted to see what you've been working on."

  Tova's eyes sparkled. "Oh, you're in for a treat. I've been experimenting with mana-infused pnts… but you're not here for my ramblings. Sit, sit!"

  They gathered around a table as Tova unched into a passionate expnation of her work. She showed them a glowing fern that could purify water and a thorny vine that emitted a faint hum of protective magic. Ngieri examined the pnts closely, asking questions about their applications.

  "You've always been practical, Ngieri," Tova said with a grin. "I like that. Maybe you'll use some of these in the field."

  "If they're as effective as they look, I might," Ngieri replied. "You've outdone yourself, Tova."

  "Fttery will get you everywhere," Tova said, ughing. "Now, who's next? I've got a mana-charged tea leaf that's supposed to enhance focus… though it might cause mild hallucinations."

  Their final stop was the Spellcasting Theory Department, where Professor Kaelor presided over a vast, circur room lined with floating chalkboards. Kaelor was tall and imposing, with a booming voice and a presence that demanded attention. He greeted them with a nod, his sharp eyes assessing each of them.

  "Larin. Ngieri. Gwendon. Rinku. It's good to see you all again," Kaelor said. "I've heard much about your exploits. Tell me, what brings you back to these halls?"

  "We wanted to reconnect," Larin said. "And to learn. We've been out there, seeing the world… but there's still so much we don't know."

  Kaelor's expression softened. "A wise answer. Knowledge is a weapon, one that never dulls. Come, let me show you something."

  He led them to the center of the room, where a rge, glowing sigil hovered in the air. Kaelor gestured, and the sigil shifted, its lines rearranging into intricate patterns.

  "This is the Grand Weave," Kaelor expined. "A visualization of spellcasting as a colborative effort. Each line represents a caster, each node a convergence of intent. Together, they create something greater than any individual spell."

  Gwendon stared at the sigil, his eyes wide. "It's beautiful. And complex. How do you even begin to interpret it?"

  Kaelor smiled. "With patience and practice. It's a reminder that even the most powerful among us are part of a rger whole."

  Rinku stepped closer, her fingers tracing the air near the sigil. "It's almost alive. Is it responding to us?"

  Kaelor nodded. "Indeed. The Grand Weave is sensitive to mana. It reacts to the presence of magic, adapting and evolving. One day, I hope to use it as a teaching tool for group casting."

  They spent the next hour discussing the intricacies of colborative spellcasting, with Kaelor sharing anecdotes from his years as a battle mage. By the time they left, their minds buzzed with new ideas and possibilities.

  As they stepped back into the courtyard, the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the academy grounds. Larin looked at his friends, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and inspiration.

  "There is so much to do, and yet, never enough time." Larin absent-mindedly mutteredHis friends agreeing to it just silently nodded.