The towering walls of Rafelia's capital rose into view, cutting against the sky like the edges of a sword.
For a moment, Ansel forgot to breathe.
So many times, he had imagined what the city would look like from the worn pages of his mother's books. But no story could capture the sheer scale of it.
The gates were made of black iron, covered with carvings of dragons and stars. Guards in shining armor stood watch, their gazes sharp and heavy.
As the carriage slowed near the entrance, Ansel leaned forward, his heart thudding in his chest. His hands, small and trembling, clutched the edge of the seat.
I've made it... I'm really here.
Yet beneath the excitement, a deep fear gnawed at him.
He was not like the others who would pass through these gates.
He wore no noble crest. His clothes were plain and slightly worn. His pouch of coins, hidden beneath his tunic, was light.
He had no protection, no powerful family standing behind him.
Only a fragile hope and a mother's prayer carried him this far.
The guards barely spared him a glance as the carriage rolled through. Inside the city, the streets buzzed with life—noble carriages, market vendors, banners flying high from marble towers.
Magic danced faintly in the air, carried by the artifacts and spells woven into the city's heart.
Children with noble robes laughed on the corners, flashing rings and pendants heavy with enchantments.
Young knights in training crossed the streets, swords at their waists, their faces proud and bright.
Ansel pulled his hood up instinctively, trying to hide his plainness.
His chest ached—not from fear, but from loneliness.
I don't belong here... yet.
In the distance, past the clustered rooftops and glimmering towers, Ansel caught his first glimpse of it:
The Valeon Academy.
It rose above the city like a dream made stone—spires reaching toward the heavens, walls carved with ancient runes, rivers of light flowing through the air around it.
It was beautiful and terrifying all at once.
It was the place where legends were born... and where the forgotten were crushed.
Ansel's fists tightened at his sides.
Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away.
No matter how painful it is...
I will endure.
I will carve my own path inside those walls.
The carriage jolted forward again, moving steadily toward the Academy gates—and toward the beginning of a life Ansel refused to lose.
As the carriage continued toward the gates of Valeon Academy, Ansel's thoughts drifted back to his mother.
Her gentle voice echoed in his mind, clearer than ever.
"Ansel..."
"I know the world will be difficult for you. People will see you as weak, as nothing. But remember..."
"You are not nothing. You are my son. And that means you carry more strength than anyone can ever take from you."
Her hands had held his face then, wiping away his tears as she kissed his forehead.
"Go to Valeon. Learn what you can. But always remember..."
"Strength isn't just in magic or swords. It's in the heart, Ansel. And no one can take that from you."
He touched the necklace around his neck—her final gift. It was all he had left of her now.
Ansel blinked away the growing wetness in his eyes, clenching his fists.
No matter what happens, he told himself, I won't forget.
The walls of Valeon Academy grew larger, towering above him like the weight of the world.
And for the first time, Ansel felt small—almost invisible.
But he held onto that whisper in his heart.
I will not break.