Academy Arcanist Novels & Stories

He stepped off the platform and vanished into the back of the crowd. Homer raised his hand. "Everyone got it? Good. The Conclave of the Arcane officially starts now!" The moment Homer finished speaking, a burly man stepped out from the crowd. He looked to be around 30 with a solid build and thick muscles. Dressed in brown robes, he strode up to the platform with heavy steps. "I'm Bronco Stetson from Ocradon Sect. I look forward to learning from you all." Bronco took a deep breath and slammed his palm down on the symbol at the stone's center. He pushed his energy with everything he had. The stone trembled slightly before giving off a faint yellow glow.

l"You look like someone who just stared into the void and realized it was staring back, which is exactly why I figured I would find you here." I watch her from the threshold of the subterranean archive, my weight shifted against the cold stone doorframe. Evelyn is sitting on the floor, her skin pale against the dim, flickering emergency lights, her hands still trembling from the residual energy of the shrine. I have spent years buried in this academy, playing the part of the quiet, royal scholar, hiding the fact that I have been scouring the foundations for a way to dismantle this entire institution. I never expected to find a catalyst. I never expected the catalyst to be an Omega who smells

Whispers rising like bees. A man in floor-length midnight blue silk marched toward the sidelines. Heavy silver medallion around his neck - balance scale superimposed over crescent moon. Not a teacher. An official. Austin stopped the turrets with a sharp whistle. "Class is in session, Messenger. This better be important." The man ignored Austin. Eyes locked on me. Stopped three feet away. Bowed - not with wolf reverence, but with cold, calculated bureaucratic formality. "High Arcanist Lumira Duskbane." His voice echoed across the training grounds.

So did having an uncle on the governing board. The archive’s lights flickered cold and sterile. Rows of holographic screens hovered in silence, coded symbols running across them like silver veins. I keyed into the restricted access system, entered my clearance, and waited for the system to verify my identity. When the holograms stabilized, I typed Arden, Eli. Nothing. Not even a placeholder record. My jaw tightened. I tried the internal code for cross-division trainees, then for transfer records. Still nothing. So I went deeper, into the old archives, pre-academy recruitment data, hidden under legacy encryption. Files so buried, even instructors pretended they didn’t exist.

“The academy answers only to its own council. Any direct accusation would spark a diplomatic fracture.” “And you want me to do what?” she asked carefully. “You still correspond with Archivist Meren.” Nicole’s eyes sharpened slightly. “That’s for intelligence exchange.” “Exactly.” “That exchange is monitored.” “Not every layer.” She studied me. “You’ve been thinking about this for a while.” “I don’t sleep much anymore.” That wasn’t entirely because of Jacelet—but he was part of it. “If he’s embedded himself inside the academy,” I said, “then he’s building something. Gathering alliances. Preparing a move.”

“Valek’s mark. Marcus’s kin.” “And the Academy seal on the third—crimson as Carrow’s own temper,” added Soren, the quiet beta from the underground study circle, pushing his spectacles up his nose. His voice carried unnaturally far, amplified by the charged air. “This isn’t routine. This is the Accord stirring.”

I said, deliberately steering the conversation elsewhere. Alaric stepped forward, his boots striking the floor with the rhythm of restrained fury. I knew he was staring at me with intimidation, but I had no reason to fear him. Our positions within the academy were equal—if anything, I held more authority than Alaric, who simply wandered around with a sword. “What kind of insane experiment were you doing to Alpha Reeve? Are you trying to poison the heir of the Nightwhisper pack?” Alaric accused. I grinned, an expression I knew would irritate him even more. I walked toward one of the cabinets and retrieved a sheet of parchment bearing the Academy Council’s official seal.

I repeated, confusion knitting my brow. “In this world, arcanios are those born with special powers,” he explained, his eyes sharp, studying my reaction. A wave of fear and excitement surged through me, clashing within like a storm threatening to consume me. My breath quickened, and my hands clenched involuntarily at my sides as I locked my gaze onto him. I searched his face for any sign of deception, any crack in the facade that might give away a lie. His expression remained composed, but the intensity in his eyes hinted at the weight of something monumental, something I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.

Arthur giggles hearing me say that. “I should’ve known that you won’t satisfied with me. I am the one who is missing you, I really want you to get back and pay your losing bet” he laughs so hard and I throw a pillow at him. I was hoping he’ll forget about that bet. A day after arrived in this village, he and I made a bet about who will be the first to be involved in the love affair here, at that time I held Kathy's name, while Arthur held Anneth. And now it was clear that it was Anneth who had a chance to have a scandal with Dave. My defeat required me to accept all of Arthur's orders for 3 days. I don't think it's going to be difficult, considering that Arthur also always wakes up at 1 pm s

Kain asked quietly. She turned to look at him. “What my aunt just said, did you know that?” she asked. “Not so much.” He shrugged. “But how much?” she pressed further, her brow furrowed in concentration. Kain whispered, “Emory,” and took her hand. You already know most of what I know. The Arcanians think Aworyn might want you to be the conduit for our Arcanstone.” Kain paused. “But I’m not so sure anymore.”