The Royal Academy of Solaris occupied an imposing complex of crystalline spires and domed chambers at the heart of the capital, its architecture a physical manifestation of the magical theories taught within. Students from noble houses across the kingdom competed fiercely for admission, with only the most promising young mages granted the privilege of study.
In Adam's previous life, he had been denied this opportunity, his education restricted to carefully monitored private tutors within the palace. The official reason had been security concerns due to his Crossmark; the reality, he had later discovered, was fear of what he might learn if given access to the Academy's extensive knowledge.
Now, one month after his assessment with Archmage Levian, Adam crossed the Academy's threshold for the first time, the silver-embroidered crimson of his formal attire marking him as both royalty and a mage of unusual potential.
Marcus walked beside him, wearing the emerald and gold that signified his primary affinity. Unlike Adam, his brother had been destined for Academy education in both timelines—though typically royal heirs began their studies at twelve rather than ten.
"Nervous?" Marcus asked, excitement evident in his voice.
"Curious," Adam replied truthfully. Despite his adult memories and experience, the Academy represented uncharted territory—knowledge and connections he had been denied in his previous existence.
The entrance hall soared upward in a perfect dome, its surface inscribed with the complete theoretical framework of the Spectrum in spiraling, interlocking patterns. Seven great doors led to the specialized study areas, each marked with the appropriate energy sigil. At the center stood a circular desk where an elderly administrator waited to receive them.
"The Princes Morningstar," she acknowledged with a formal bow. "We are honored by your presence at the Academy. I am Magistra Hewen, Coordinator of Royal Studies."
Adam noted the title with interest. The position suggested a specialized role for handling politically sensitive students—another indication of the careful management surrounding their education.
"Your schedules have been arranged according to your assessed affinities and specializations," Hewen continued, presenting them with crystalline tablets inscribed with their daily rotations. "Prince Marcus will focus on Emerald applications with combat specialization, while Prince Adam will pursue theoretical studies with Crimson primary focus."
Adam examined his schedule, noting the careful balance between standard noble education and the specialized magical instruction Archmage Levian had arranged. Three days weekly at the Academy, two days with palace tutors, and the promised twice-weekly sessions with Levian himself.
"You will not share many classes," Hewen explained, addressing both princes. "Your educational paths naturally diverge based on your affinities and aptitudes."
Just as the king had indicated. Just as had happened in the original timeline, though for very different reasons.
"Will we at least share the mid-day meal period?" Marcus asked, his reluctance to be completely separated from his brother evident in his tone.
The magistra nodded. "All students gather in the central atrium during the noon hour. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll introduce you to your primary instructors."
As they proceeded through the grand hall, Adam noted the reaction of other students—young nobles from prominent houses who paused in their activities to observe the princes' arrival. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to calculation, each mentally adjusting their social strategies to account for these royal additions to the Academy hierarchy.
In his previous life, Adam had dismissed such social dynamics as trivial compared to the pursuit of power. Now, with mature perspective, he recognized their strategic importance. Alliances formed in youth often shaped the political landscape of the next generation.
The tour proceeded efficiently, with Magistra Hewen introducing them to instructors who would oversee their education. Marcus was eventually led toward the Emerald training grounds, where combat applications were emphasized, while Adam was guided to the theoretical studies wing.
"Your primary instructor will be Magister Thorne," Hewen explained as they approached a quiet study chamber lined with ancient texts. "He specializes in cross-spectrum theory and has been briefed on your unique affinity pattern."
The man who rose to greet them bore little resemblance to the traditional image of an Academy magister. Rather than formal robes, he wore practical attire with numerous pockets containing what appeared to be research instruments. His hair was prematurely silver despite his relatively young age, and his eyes—a striking violet that suggested rare natural affinity—assessed Adam with immediate interest.
"Prince Adam," he greeted, bowing with proper respect but little ceremony. "I've been looking forward to working with you since reviewing your assessment results."
"Magister Thorne will supervise your theoretical studies program," Hewen explained. "I'll leave you to become acquainted while I attend to final arrangements."
As the administrative magistra departed, Thorne gestured for Adam to take a seat at a study table where several texts were already arranged.
"Archmage Levian has shared the details of your affinity distribution," the magister said without preamble. "Quite remarkable. Primary Crimson with strong Violet and Obsidian secondary resonance."
"So I'm told," Adam replied cautiously, studying the man who would be guiding his theoretical education. There was something familiar about him, though Adam was certain they had never met in his previous life.
"The combination suggests an innate understanding of transformation, probability, and boundaries," Thorne continued. "A perfect foundation for theoretical exploration beyond standard categorical limitations."
The magister's enthusiasm reminded Adam of his own early fascination with magical theory, before his focus had narrowed exclusively to power acquisition. There was genuine intellectual passion in Thorne's approach that Adam found unexpectedly appealing.
"I understand you've already begun exploring unified spectrum theory," Thorne said, opening one of the texts to a marked page. "An ambitious starting point for one your age."
"My discussion with Princess Lirienne sparked particular interest in pre-differentiation energy states," Adam explained, the partial truth coming easily.
At the mention of the Azurian princess, Thorne's expression brightened further. "Ah yes, I'm acquainted with her primary tutor in Wavecrest. Magistra Selene is one of the few Azure specialists open to theoretical innovation. The princess is fortunate to study under her guidance."
This was useful information—a connection to Lirienne's educational circle that could facilitate the scholarly exchange they had discussed.
"I understand you've arranged to correspond with the princess on theoretical matters," Thorne continued, confirming that the academic connection was common knowledge among instructors. "Such cross-kingdom collaboration often yields insights unavailable within a single tradition."
"That's my hope," Adam acknowledged. "The Azurian perspective on fluidity and adaptability offers interesting counterpoints to Solaris's emphasis on structure and precision."
Thorne nodded approvingly. "Precisely. Traditional educational approaches too often confine students within the philosophical limitations of their kingdom's dominant affinity." He gestured to the texts arranged before them. "Your program will emphasize horizontal integration across spectrum categories rather than vertical depth within a single tradition."
The approach aligned perfectly with Adam's interests, offering legitimate access to knowledge that had been forbidden in his previous life. What he had once pursued in secret would now be studied openly under expert guidance.
"I've prepared an initial assessment exercise," Thorne said, producing a small crystal prism. "Rather than evaluating what you've been taught, I'd like to understand how you think."
The magister placed the prism at the center of the table, where a shaft of sunlight from the high windows struck it directly. Instead of producing a standard rainbow effect, the crystal emitted seven distinct beams of Spectrum energy, each maintaining perfect separation from the others.
"A containment prism," Adam observed, recognizing the specialized tool used in advanced theory experiments. "Modified for spectrum isolation rather than combination."
"Good," Thorne nodded. "Now, based on our brief discussion of unified spectrum theory, what do you suspect would happen if we introduced a catalyst at the precise center of these seven rays?"
It was a theoretical question beyond standard Academy curriculum—one that tested both knowledge and intuitive understanding of spectrum interactions. In his previous life, Adam had conducted similar experiments during his forbidden research, though with cruder instruments.
"Depends on the catalyst," Adam replied carefully. "A neutral element would simply illuminate. A resonant one would amplify specific aspects according to its affinity profile. But a true catalyst—something with multi-spectrum receptivity—would potentially reveal the unified nature of the supposedly distinct energies."
Thorne's violet eyes widened slightly. "Impressive reasoning. Most students would simply predict spectrum amplification without considering the underlying unified field implications." He reached into one of his many pockets and withdrew a small, clear crystal no larger than a fingernail. "Let's test your hypothesis."
The magister carefully positioned the tiny crystal at the exact intersection point of the seven beams. For a moment, nothing appeared to happen—then the distinct rays began to blur at their edges, their supposedly impermeable boundaries becoming permeable.
Gradually, the seven separate beams transformed into a single column of pure white light.
"Pre-differentiation state," Adam murmured, watching the theoretical principle manifested physically before him.
"Exactly," Thorne confirmed, genuine excitement in his voice. "The catalyst doesn't create this effect—it simply reveals the underlying reality that these supposedly discrete energies are merely differentiated expressions of a unified field."
The demonstration was elegant in its simplicity yet profound in its implications. In his previous life, Adam had reached similar conclusions only after years of secretive experimentation with far more dangerous methods.
"The practical applications are significant," Thorne continued, carefully removing the catalyst to allow the spectrum beams to separate once more. "If energies can be reverted to their pre-differentiation state, they can theoretically be redirected into any aspect of the Spectrum—regardless of the practitioner's natural affinity."
This was precisely the conclusion Adam had reached in his original timeline—the insight that had eventually led him to experiments with energy beyond the Spectrum altogether. The path to Void manipulation had begun with this exact theoretical foundation.
"Wouldn't that fundamentally undermine the entire affinity-based magical system?" Adam asked, deliberately playing the role of thoughtful student rather than revealing his full understanding.
Thorne's expression turned serious. "Indeed. Which is why such research remains primarily theoretical and closely monitored. The social and political implications would be... disruptive, to say the least."
An understatement. The entire power structure of the Thirteen Kingdoms rested on affinity specialization. Houses rose or fell based on the magical aptitudes of their bloodlines. If affinity limitations could be overcome through technique rather than inheritance, the established order would face unprecedented challenges.
In his previous life, Adam had viewed this potential disruption as a tool for his ambitions. Now, with more nuanced perspective, he recognized both the legitimate concerns and the transformative possibilities.
"I can see why this remains theoretical," Adam said carefully. "Though the knowledge itself seems valuable, regardless of application constraints."
"Precisely the perspective I'd hoped for," Thorne replied, clearly pleased with their exchange. "Understanding need not immediately translate to application. There is value in knowledge for its own sake."
As their introductory session continued, Adam found himself genuinely engaged in the theoretical discussion. Thorne proved to be both knowledgeable and intellectually flexible—willing to consider unconventional perspectives while maintaining appropriate caution regarding practical implications.
By the time the Academy bells signaled the mid-day meal period, Adam had been provided with a preliminary reading list and research framework that would guide his theoretical studies. The academic path before him was both legitimate and aligned with his deepest intellectual interests—a stark contrast to the restrictive education of his previous life.
"One more thing before you join the other students," Thorne said as Adam prepared to depart. "This arrived for you this morning." He produced a sealed letter bearing the azure wave insignia of House Tidecaller. "Correspondence from Azuria, I believe."
Adam accepted the letter with carefully controlled interest, though inwardly he was surprised by the timing. He had expected Lirienne's first communication to arrive much later, after she had settled back into her own educational routine.
"Thank you, Magister Thorne," he said, slipping the letter into his tunic. "I look forward to our next session."
As Adam navigated the Academy's crystalline corridors toward the central atrium where students gathered for meals, he found himself analyzing his own reactions to this new educational arrangement. The genuine intellectual engagement he'd experienced with Thorne was... unexpected. In his previous life, teachers had been merely obstacles or tools—never true intellectual partners.
[POSITIVE EDUCATIONAL ENGAGEMENT DETECTED]
[INTELLECTUAL CURIOSITY INCREASING]
[NOTE: ALIGNMENT WITH STRATEGIC OBJECTIVES MAINTAINED]
The system's assessment matched his own analysis. This growing interest in genuine knowledge exchange remained aligned with his strategic goals—at least for now. If that alignment eventually diverged...
Adam set the thought aside as he entered the central atrium, a magnificent domed space where hundreds of young nobles shared the mid-day meal. Seven great tables arranged in a star pattern represented the spectrum aspects, with students typically clustering according to their primary affinity.
He immediately spotted Marcus at the Emerald table, already surrounded by admirers drawn to his natural charisma and royal status. His brother caught his eye and waved him over enthusiastically.
Instead of proceeding directly to the Crimson table as would have been expected, Adam made his way to Marcus's position—another small divergence from established patterns. The gesture drew curious glances from students who clearly expected the Crossmarked prince to maintain isolation.
"How was your first morning?" Marcus asked as Adam joined him. "Mine was brilliant. Combat Magister Renwick says I have natural talent for blade enhancement techniques."
"Unsurprising," Adam replied with genuine appreciation for his brother's abilities. "Emerald affinity typically excels in edge reinforcement applications."
Marcus introduced the students gathered around him—sons and daughters of prominent noble houses, most of whom Adam recognized from court functions. Their reactions to him ranged from cautious respect to poorly concealed wariness, the Crossmark's reputation clearly preceding him.
"Prince Adam will be studying theoretical applications," Marcus explained to the group, his tone suggesting this was equally prestigious to combat training. "Archmage Levian himself has taken interest in his development."
The mention of Levian's involvement immediately altered the other students' expressions, elevating Adam's status in their estimation. Even those wary of the Crossmark couldn't dismiss the significance of the legendary archmage's personal attention.
As conversation flowed around him, Adam maintained the perfect balance of polite engagement and thoughtful reserve—the image of the serious scholarly prince rather than the isolated, bitter figure he had been in his previous life.
When an appropriate moment presented itself, he excused himself briefly, seeking a quiet alcove where he could examine Lirienne's letter in private. The azure seal parted easily at his touch, recognizing him as the intended recipient through subtle enchantment.
The letter was written in elegant script, the formal scholarly Azurian style taught to royalty:
Prince Adam of House Morningstar,
I write to you sooner than protocol might suggest, but intellectual exchange should not be constrained by unnecessary formality when mutual benefit may result.
Upon my return to Wavecrest, I consulted with Magistra Selene regarding our discussion of pre-differentiation energy states. Her initial skepticism was overcome when I described your demonstration during the tournament. She has granted me access to several restricted texts that address these theories directly.
Of particular interest is "Harmonic Resonance Across Spectrum Boundaries" by Archmage Seravain. The text suggests experimental methods for testing unified field theory without destabilizing energy structures. I have included my preliminary notes on chapters three and seven, which most directly address our area of inquiry.
Additionally, I have been granted permission to share references to the Azurian Royal Collection's cataloging system. This will allow you to request specific theoretical works through official diplomatic channels without raising undue concern about the nature of our research.
I look forward to your insights and counterpoints as we explore this fascinating theoretical territory together.
With scholarly regard,Princess Lirienne of House Tidecaller
Included with the letter were several pages of detailed notes on spectrum boundary theory, written with surprising sophistication for one so young. More valuable still was the enclosed catalog reference system—a key to accessing knowledge that would have been otherwise unavailable outside Azuria.
In his previous life, Adam had eventually stolen such information through elaborate schemes and magical espionage. Now it was being freely offered through legitimate scholarly exchange.
[VALUABLE KNOWLEDGE SOURCE CONFIRMED]
[DIPLOMATIC CHANNEL ESTABLISHED]
[RECOMMENDATION: CULTIVATE RELATIONSHIP]
The system's assessment was unnecessary. Adam already recognized the extraordinary value of this connection—both strategically and intellectually. Lirienne's obvious intelligence and academic access made her an ideal correspondent for the theoretical explorations that had been forbidden to him before.
As he carefully tucked the letter away and returned to the central atrium, Adam found himself genuinely looking forward to crafting his response. The scholarly collaboration offered legitimate avenues to knowledge he had once pursued through forbidden means.
Whether this path would ultimately lead to redemption or merely more sophisticated villainy remained to be seen. But for now, the convergence of strategic advantage and genuine intellectual interest created a harmony Adam had never experienced in his previous existence.
A harmony that was as satisfying as it was unexpected.