Magic : Unbroken

The Awakening Ceremony had finally come to an end.

One by one, the hopeful students left the sacred hall—some with bright eyes and pounding hearts, holding admission tokens that marked the beginning of their magical journey.

Others walked away with slumped shoulders and quiet footsteps, their dreams postponed for reasons beyond their control.

Among those chosen was Leon.

Thanks to being the first in line earlier, he had already finished the admission process. His ID card now hung around his neck, freshly printed and still warm.

Tucked under one arm was a neatly folded academy uniform. In his other hand, he gripped a small card—his room key, humming faintly with a soft glow of magic.

Leon was overjoyed. He had dreamed of this moment for years. A storm of emotions swirled in his chest—relief, pride, anticipation. And above all, a burning determination.

"This is it," he thought. "My new beginning."

But his inner monologue was soon interrupted by the gruff voice of the old woman at the front desk—the same one who had processed his documents earlier.

She raised a finger and pointed down a corridor. "Your room is in the west wing of the General Dormitory. Block 9, Room 1," she said, her tone efficient but not unkind.

Leon straightened up, clutching his belongings tighter.

"You may rest for the day if you wish," she added. "Or take the chance to explore the academy grounds. Either way, classes start tomorrow."

She gestured toward a large notice board near the exit. "Your class name, batch number, and schedule will be posted there. Find your name and follow your own path from then on."

Leon gave a small bow in gratitude. "Thank you."

The old woman grunted in acknowledgment and turned to the next student in line.

Stepping out of the administration block, Leon was greeted by a stunning sight—a sprawling garden stretched before him, overflowing with blooming flowers in colors he didn't even know existed.

Petals danced on the wind, and magic-infused butterflies hovered around, glowing gently as they drifted.

Yet Leon barely noticed.

He took a right turn, following the instructions he'd been given, eyes fixed ahead. Right now, he only wanted to see where he'd be living.

The General Wing was not far. The buildings stood tall, shaped like castle towers but with modern magical architecture woven in—floating lanterns lit the paths, and crystalline runes pulsed faintly on the walls.

After a bit of walking and a few wrong turns, he found himself in front of Block 9.

The hallway was quiet, the stone floors echoing softly with his footsteps. Finally, he reached Room 1.

Leon took a deep breath and pulled out the card key. He tapped it against the rune-lock on the door.

With a soft chime and a hiss of shifting magic, the door unlocked.

He blinked. "Whoa… that's some cool magic."

He didn't understand how any of it worked yet—but he made a mental note to learn later. For now, he stepped inside.

The moment he entered, his jaw dropped.

The room was enormous.

Far bigger than he'd expected, especially for a dormitory. It wasn't just a single room—it was a suite.

To his left was a spacious hall with a cozy sitting area and a crystal orb light suspended from the ceiling.

Further inside was the bedroom, fitted with a king-sized bed, elegant curtains, and even enchanted temperature control runes.

A door on the side led to the study, lined with empty bookshelves, a mana-inscribed desk, and a reading lamp that lit up when he entered.

There was a separate toilet and bathroom, both clean and fitted with magical utilities. And to top it all off, a balcony offered a stunning view of the floating towers and distant training fields.

Leon walked around the suite slowly, touching the polished wooden furniture, testing the softness of the chair cushions, peeking out the windows.

He couldn't believe it.

"I thought I'd be crammed into a bunk bed with three roommates," he muttered to himself. "But this…"

He ran his hand across the smooth surface of the desk.

"…this is more than I ever imagined."

Without thinking, he tossed his belongings aside and launched himself onto the bed.

His body sank into the mattress like it was made of clouds.

"So comfortable," he mumbled, hugging a pillow to his chest, letting out a soft sigh.

As Leon lay sprawled on the bed, his arms spread wide, eyes fixed on the high white ceiling above, silence filled the room.

The soft mattress beneath him brought comfort, but his heart felt anything but light.

A long sigh escaped his lips.

The joy of being accepted into the academy had begun to settle, and with it came a wave of memories—some warm, others heavy.

His thoughts drifted back to a time four years ago, when he was just ten. Back when he still had a family.

"Mom… Dad…" he whispered softly into the still air, his voice cracking.

A plague had swept through the empire like a cruel shadow, snatching countless lives.

Among them were his parents—his beloved mother and father. Merchants by trade, they had been warm and kind, always doting on their only child.

Their deaths had come swiftly, leaving behind a hollow emptiness in Leon's young heart.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring the ceiling above.

"I finally did it…" he said with a trembling voice. "I entered the academy, Dad… it was your dream, remember? You always said you wanted to see me as a mage…"

His chest tightened. The tears rolled down his cheeks as he turned slightly, burying his face into the pillow.

"But you're not here to see me…"

The pain of their absence had dulled with time, but today—today it returned, raw and fresh.

In his memories, he was a mischievous child, always full of energy. Their home was filled with laughter and chaos.

His father would sleep in after long travels, only to be rudely awakened by a flying pillow or a face full of scribbles drawn with charcoal.

Leon would then dash behind his mother, giggling and using her as a shield.

"That little demon," his father would grumble, chasing after him with mock anger and real affection.

They had been good days. Days full of warmth, scoldings, hugs, and the occasional thrown slipper.

But when they passed… so did Leon's smile. The laughter faded. He stopped being that naughty kid. People said he matured, but Leon knew the truth.

He didn't grow up. He just lost something he could never get back.

Sniffing, he sat up on the bed, wiping his tears with the back of his sleeve. A moment later, a small, genuine smile formed on his lips. It was soft, bittersweet.

"I'll make you proud, both of you," he whispered. "No matter how long it takes."

Shaking his head gently, Leon stood up and turned toward the desk, where his fresh academy uniform lay neatly folded—white with red accents, the crest of the academy stitched with golden thread.

He reached out and ran his fingers along the fabric, feeling its smooth texture.