That’s how most of my childhood flew by: smashing rocks, practicing runes, restoring rusted tools, and occasionally pushing Master Borduk’s patience to its very limits. When I wasn’t bonking something in the name of dwarven craftsmanship, I was learning more about mana control and runic theory. Time passed in a blur, as time often does, and before I knew it, I was ten years old.

  One evening, my parents sat me down for a serious conversation. I could tell by the way they kept exchanging glances that something big was coming. Finally, my father cleared his throat.

  “Gromli, Master Borduk says you’ve gone about as far as he can take you alone,” he said. “He thinks there’s more to magic than just what we dwarves can teach. He’s recommended you for a special academy.”

  A tingle of excitement raced through me. A special academy? That sounded like the kind of place where legendary heroes might learn lightning bolts and summon mythical creatures. But then my mother added a dose of practicality.

  “You’ll be away from home for a while,” she explained softly. “It won’t be easy, and it won’t just be dwarves there. You’ll be with humans, elves, maybe even… orcs.”

  I couldn’t help raising an eyebrow. Orcs? I didn’t even know they did magic, though I guessed anyone could learn something if they put their mind to it. Still, I was torn between excitement at the idea of broadening my horizons and apprehension at more schooling. I mean, nobody jumps for joy at the thought of classes and homework, right?

  But this was a chance I couldn’t pass up. “Well,” I said with a shrug, “if Master Borduk thinks it’s worth it, I guess it can’t be that bad. Besides, maybe I’ll learn some neat tricks to make my hammer-bonking even cooler.”

  My parents exchanged a small, relieved smile. “We’ll help you pack,” my dad said. “You’ll leave in a few weeks. Best start getting ready.”

  I nodded, feeling a jumble of nerves and excitement swirling in my gut. More school wasn’t exactly my dream, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t stoked to see what else magic could do. I went to bed that night with visions of strange runes, unfamiliar chants, and entire libraries of arcane knowledge dancing through my head. Some dwarves might’ve been content staying home in a cozy mine, but apparently, my path was about to lead me well beyond it. And I couldn’t wait to see what I’d learn.

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  Time passed in a blur. One moment, I was at home, stuffing my bag with spare clothes and half-finished runes; the next, I was cramped on a lurching coach heading west with Master Borduk by my side. Two weeks had slipped by faster than I could blink, and now the sun glinted off the distant hills as we rattled along.

  My destination was Stoneharp College of the Arcane. According to Master Borduk, it was founded centuries ago by a group of scholars—dwarves, elves, and humans alike—who believed that magic should be studied as a universal craft. Over time, the college expanded from a modest tower into a sprawling campus of stone buildings and winding courtyards, perched on a high cliff overlooking the Greenvale River. Supposedly, you could stand at the edge of the main courtyard and hear the echo of your own voice off the cliffs, like a harp plucked by the winds.

  The college had a reputation for accepting anyone with a spark of arcane talent, be they dwarf, elf, human, or otherwise. Alumni stories ranged from legendary mages who helped tame dragons to humble village hedge-wizards who specialized in healing crops. In other words, Stoneharp was the place to be if you wanted to learn more than just the basics. It was my chance to see what magic could do outside the safety of dwarven mines and smithies.

  As the coach rumbled on, Master Borduk peered out the window, then turned to me with a grunt. “Don’t get too starry-eyed, lad,” he said. “It might be a fancy college, but you’ll still have to work for it.”

  I nodded, clenching my fists in excitement and nerves. “I know, Master Borduk. But if it’s half as interesting as you say, it’ll be worth all the effort. Besides…” I allowed myself a small grin, “if they have a forge, maybe I’ll still get to bonk stuff now and then.”

  Master Borduk snorted. “Trust me, if Stoneharp doesn’t have a forge, I’ll install one myself,” he said, though I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

  The roads stretched on, and the coach wheels kicked up dust, but I hardly noticed. My thoughts were already wandering the halls of Stoneharp, imagining grand libraries full of scrolls on elemental theory, massive lecture rooms where spells were cast for demonstration, and courtyard duels where students tested their mettle—possibly literally. I didn’t know exactly what I was getting into, but the prospect of it made my heart thump with excitement.

  Soon enough, the silhouette of a tall spire appeared on the horizon. My stomach fluttered. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for this new chapter of my life. Master Borduk shot me a sideways glance, almost like he was assessing if I was ready. I gave him a firm nod. Maybe I didn’t know the first thing about advanced magic, but I was more than willing to learn.

  The driver yelled that we’d be there in a few hours. I settled back against the worn seat, letting the gentle sway of the coach lull me into a daydream of runes, hammers, and the endless possibilities awaiting me at Stoneharp College of the Arcane.