After the first introductory class, Ethan had high hopes for the rest of the academy lectures. If every class was anything like Professor Lysari's—blunt, challenging, and eye-opening—then maybe this place was worth its outrageous costs.
But those hopes were dashed almost immediately. Lysari, it turned out, was the exception. The rest? They felt like cardboard cutouts of what teachers should be.
One instructor spoke in a monotone so flat Ethan genuinely wondered if the man had been cursed to remove all inflection from his voice. Another droned on about the history of magic as if he were reciting a grocery list.
Several others didn't even look up from their notes. They simply read, word for word, like animated books with legs. There was no challenge, no spark, no call to think deeper. It was theory dumped onto the crowd without rhythm or care, and most of the students either zoned out or quietly slipped away.
