Sol Academy

In a quiet little shed on the outskirts of an unknown town, a mysterious man sat down to drink a glass of water. The room he sat in was so quiet that the sound of his gulping the liquid could be heard all around the dimly lit chamber. Across from him sat a man on a wooden chair which was chipped at the edges with some wear and tear.

"Hey Fester?"

The man ushered the old man, wiping the water from his plump red lips. 

"What?"

Fester responded, opening his eyes and lifting his bald head.

"Have you ever heard of the phrase, 'You can't tell time. Time tells you.' ? " 

"What about it?" 

Fester rebuked, stroking his thin white beard. The old man's wrinkly hand tiredly ran through the few strands of hair left on his chin. His back slumped and his eyes narrowed as he began to think about the phrase the mysterious man had just uttered. 

"I think Time and Nature are related." 

The man replied 

"Our control over these things is nil. It's impossible to rewind the minutes we spend and it's impossible to change the course that nature takes." 

"I see.." the old man responded "but there are things that we can control right? I control the things I eat don't I?" 

"That's not the point Fester." The man replied 

"Don't you think we have very little control in how things turn out? We can't get any younger. We can't stop the day from being consumed by darkness, or the sun from coming up in the morning.." 

"What are you trying to say? " Fester queried, puzzled by the man's rambling. 

" Everyday, I see people running away from time, running out of time. Those worthless idiots...all they do is give into their primal nature. Disgusting filthy animals. I hate them, I despise them. "

The man's face contorted, slightly frightening Fester who simmered in his chair.

 " They think they are so much better than everyone around them. When in reality, they can't see further than the air in front of their moronic faces. Why? Why won't they realize that there's no time. What's the point of their stupid fantasies? When will they realize there's no meaning to any of this." 

The man finished his rant, resetting his face to a careless stare. He had a nice jawline and piercing emerald eyes that complimented his fairly fawn complexion. His black hair was slicked back with a few strands falling down his face from the edges of his forehead. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves properly rolled up near his elbows. He donned a sapphire waist coat and black trousers, paired with a white belt that wrapped around his curvy hips.

Fester looked bewildered. This was the first time he had found himself so terrified of the man. But the old man had known the man for a while, seeing as he was the grandfather of his bastard child.

"Why do you keep visiting me after all this time? I don't want you to keep coming to my house and spouting such hatred, especially after what you did to my daughter! " 

Fester snapped back at the man who began to take his leave. As the man grabbed his long black coat and porkpie hat of the rack in the corner of the room, Fester had a few more choice words to add. 

"You don't even know half the things you're talking about. It's complete nonsense! You need to take a good hard look in the mirror. What exactly is in your control even after knowing all of that? Are you in control of your own life? I doubt it!"

The mysterious man didn't respond as he opened the door 

"Goodbye Fester. I'll see you next week." 

"Don't come back!!!" 

Fester shouted out as the man closed the door on his way out. 

"I really don't know how he gets in here every single time. What is he a damned ghost?" 

Fester thought before going back to his afternoon nap on the table. 

Meanwhile the man was already making his way back into the city. He walked through the slums swiftly and without being noticed. The path he was walking curved slightly upwards In front of him.  

The community he walked through was situated on a mountainous terrain, segregated into ascending levels of society. As the hill sloped upwards, the class divide became more and more apparent with the poorest and most unfortunate at the foot of the hills and the richest and most lavish near the top. 

At the end of his sight in the distance, the man could make out a tall and magnificent structure, in the heart of the most elite sector of the area. 

The Academy. 

The man continued walking through the slums until he reached a checkpoint between two sectors. He showed his identification badge to the guards posted there who let him proceed to the next area. The man made his way through this phase of the community which consisted of slightly better living conditions before arriving at the next checkpoint and repeating the process until he arrived at the third sector. 

The people in this area were dressed much better and seemed cleaner as opposed to those of the previous two areas, indicating yet another improvement in living conditions until the man arrived at yet another checkpoint. 

At this point the man had to go through a three stage verification process before he could proceed which included an ID check, followed by a body check and a baggage check. 

Since the man wasn't carrying anything, the guards chose to check his pockets instead. They procured a small pair of sunglasses, a rectangular piece of chewing gum and a small butterfly knife which had an interesting purple and green design on the handle. After admiring the craftsmanship for a few seconds, the guard handed the knife back to the man who proceeded towards the most lavish sector of the town yet. 

There were cafes, fountains, parks and everything else the heart could desire. The women were scantily clad and the men were built like Hercules. The mysterious man walked through this area unfettered, and strangely unnoticed by the inhabitants. It was odd at how invisible he was considering his bulky and muscular frame coupled with his incredible height at 6 foot 5. 

The man walked like this for a while until he arrived at a peculiar fountain where a woman was seen begging for money. This woman had a newborn baby suckling on her left breast, but no one seemed to care. The people had as much money as they could want but no one came close to the woman to help her. The man stopped by the woman to drop some money into her lap.

The woman grabbed the man's hand on the way up, thanking him for the generous amount. She immediately got up and scampered away upon contact with him. The man saw the woman dash away happily as he stared at his left hand, clenched into a fist.

He opened it to reveal a small piece of paper that the woman had slipped him. The man opened up the paper and read the contents before crumpling it up and throwing it into the fountain. The man then walked towards the final checkpoint beyond which was the most splendorous part of the kingdom. The only way to get past this checkpoint was if you were allowed by the ruling class. 

The man approached the gate to the entrance of this checkpoint and rang the buzzer by pressing a button on the front. The zapping sound gave way to a few moments of silence before a voice appeared through the speaker on top of the entry. 

"Please state your name into the microphone on the right"

The voice requested as a camera attached on the top right side slowly began to tilt downward at the man. 

"Ezekiel Sapphire" 

"Ahh, Instructor Ezekiel, you really are like clockwork. Back at exactly 12:00 pm again, let me buzz you in." 

The voice responded, releasing the magnets holding the door shut. Ezekiel opened the door and walked through the checkpoint, arriving at the most magnificent part of the town. This was where the elites of the town lived. The Mayor, the King, the head of the religious faction, popular celebrities, the warden, the judges, all of them and more lived here, alongside their children who were mostly students at the Academy which was also situated in this area. 

The Academy was the most important institution of this nation,  where magic and the dark arts were taught.  To be a part of the academy meant that you had a chance at glory and recognition. It was a gateway toward ultimate power and a shot at a better life. Naturally, everyone in the nation, from the slums to the elites, dreamt of getting into the Academy. However, it was not accessible to all who wanted to enter. No matter how royal or well connected, you couldn't buy your way in. You had to be selected and worthy. The Academy worked by its own set of rules, detached from the hierarchal nature of the community that surrounded it. It was a linchpin of justice and fairness, where lineage didn't matter. 

Ezekiel continued to walk through sector S of the town until he arrived at the gates of the Academy. Shades of crimson, azure and emerald decor painted the existence of the Academy, highlighting the vibrancy of the institution; a mixture of dreams, miracles, laughter and mysteries, where whispers foretold tales that were once buried.  Ezekiel paused at the gates as he reflected on his journey to the top of the hill.

Every sector was categorized according to one’s value. Based on what? Wealth, fame, lineage and… luck. 

" Bullshit."

Ezekiel did not buy any of that crap. Why? Because he lacked all of the above. In his own twisted way anyway. His emerald eyes glinted at the structure before him, reflecting shades of gold as he entered through the drawbridge of the Academy.

The Academy; 'Sol of Souls'. 

Known for its miracles, Ezekiel found it presumptuous but couldn't refute when results spoke louder than what rubbed him in the chin. The Academy was marvelous to the naked eye. Beautiful old walls were like a script taken from tales of folklore. The environment felt as if fairies and gods blessed it in their sleep. One could only ponder for so long.

So many years of devotion to this land and its talents and Ezekiel still did not understand the history of the Academy. All he knew for certain was that it existed for as long as he could remember. 

The walls were made of one of the hardest minerals in existence. Apatite, shining with a tinge of forest grunge under the sunlight. 

Ezekiel could only wonder where the resources were obtained to carve the massive castle from such a scarce mineral. If anything, what Ezekiel liked about its beauty was not the value of it but the irony of its existence. 

Apatite was adorned with a disgusting shade of green and yet, it managed to shine as the peak of beauty and the most valued property of this nation. Was he proud of that fact? No. But he did like the fairy tale-like hidden meaning behind it.

Despite sharing a similar shade in his pupils, he knew his shine may never be valued as much.

The academy had always fancied musical existence as there was not a single hour of the day when there was not a resounding of the keys of a piano from within. A, b, c, d and the order jumbled on. Starting the day from Vallée d’Obermann to ending the day with the mysterious tune of Le Monde. That was one thing Ezekiel could not go without noticing. Just like the unfinished decor of the castle walls.

He made his way from the fountain at the entrance to entering the walls of the castle. The air was chilled as it brushed his cheeks, him breathing it in to embrace the soul of it. He could not understand how despite having children and adults rushing from hallways to staircases, the sound of his footsteps still echoed within the walls.

Beautiful, was an understatement. 

Each time his gaze would land on the unfinished decor on the walls, his soul would mewl in an approval. Upon the apatite walls were scriptures carved in languages that even the Academy found a task to translate. To this day the only word they had been able to translate was “Stone” and nothing after that made sense. The archaeologists of the nation begged the emperor to remove the pieces of the wall as an evidence of lost history but the emperor declined with much coldness. 

Or so they say.

While scriptures were an image to marvel at, it was still not something that had Ezekiel in a daze, it was-

“Her...”

Within the apatite was carved the same unfinished frame of the woman in every single hallway, on all the ceilings, in every room, through every corridor, amongst the courtyards and even in the floors. Wavy hair with silver shining underneath the hardness of the apatite. Her face only had the minor lining of cupid lips. The bow of her lips carved in such a way that it pulled the strings at Ezekiel’s heart. As if they were quivering under his gaze, begging him to look away while he would refuse it every single time. 

Trembling, afraid, still in agonizing fear and shame! He could hear his own heart beat resounding louder than his thoughts to such an animation on the walls.

The tips of his fingers would itch. Itch to the extent that the hands resting by his side jerked in an attempt to reach out and grab the apparition. Reach out and touch the apple of her cheeks, feel the curves of her frame and finally, maybe, just maybe he could move a little closer. Maybe he would find the traces of how her eyes would have looked, that somehow moving just an inch closer would allow him to touch the softness of her lips-

“Mr. Sapphire.”

His shoulders stiffened. His knuckles clenched only to release themselves with laze. Ezekiel, who had the eyes of a nymph moments ago, turned to face the source of the voice with a welcoming smile.

“Principal Amon. How are you doing on this fine morning?” 

The mentioned man scoffed as he stared at Amon, his nose high up in the air and his chest puffed out, smug and proud. The man was far older in comparison, both in appearance and age. His gray pupils narrowed in mock as he looked down at Ezekiel's figure, despite being shorter than him.

 “Nothing special about mornings. It is because you waste time on such trivialities that you still haven't caught up with the other instructors in terms of strength.” 

Ezekiel was enraged. How dare this old man compare him to others when he can't do anything without the silly dusty grimoire he carries- just how useful does that make him? Despite that, he still had the audacity to mock Ezekiel at every chance he was presented. Truly, a man tends to run senile with a leg in the coffin.

“You jest, principal Amon. I'm trying my best.” Ezekiel shrugged with a nervous laugh. Contrary to his inner thoughts, Ezekiel appeared like a harmless mouse. A rodent running from left to right to save his neck.

Amon turned his nose away. Too much pride to even waste a passing second on Ezekiel. Condescending and cruel with his words but was Amon wrong? The Academy had a set of rules and a format that was to be followed. It was the ruling strength of the nation for a reason.

With a system of 33 degrees to measure strength and capabilities, the academy tested the people within it with every season. It was not only difficult to get admission, but also incredibly arduous and difficult to ascend from one degree to the next.

The students of the Academy were divided into three tiers. Starting from the bottom, the 3rd tier, consisting of degrees from 1st to the 19th. If the students managed to ascend via examinations and trials of magic, they would reach the 2nd tier, consisting of 20th to 29th degrees.

And finally, only the cream of the crop would be able to reach the 1st tier class, Consisting only of the 30th degree. For this, not only did they have to perform exceptionally, in magic and with enchanted weaponry, but they also needed the approval of all 4 principals. As such, most of the individuals within the Academy beyond the 30th degree were gifted in one way or another.

If Ezekiel had to define what degrees signified in this castle of mystery and prestige, it was not only the level of capability and strength, but perhaps also charisma. In other words, it was the level of promise the individual presented the academy with.

The hierarchy wasn't limited to just the students, which was one of the reasons why Amon had such a mouth on him to mock Ezekiel every chance he'd get. The 31st Degree consisted of only 5 individuals; Ezekiel Sapphire being one of them. These same five people were not only the disciples of the 4 principals but were also talents that were assigned by the supreme mage to train the rising prodigies of Sol Academy.

“This is personal advice to you, Mr. Sapphire, since I see my younger self in you. Aim for the goal and never look away, or else they will not hesitate to snatch away what is yours.” 

Amon had spoken words far too wise and warm for someone so unlikeable. Since the day Amon had reached the 32nd Degree and become a principal, he had been studying his field of expertise with much vigor and isolation. He had not stopped looking down on people from the moment he had become someone who could not be trifled with. Ezekiel could not be bothered with his advice and found it much too arrogant, and yet he returned his words with a docile smile.

Amon once again held his head high as he walked away, clicking his cane on the marble floor.

 “Have a pleasant day, Principal Amon.” Ezekiel's voice was sweet. Too sweet. So sweet and soft that he could have puked on the sugary overdose. Alas, if only his face hadn't betrayed his voice.

How dare he compare me to his younger self?! Wretched old fart!

But the words never left his lips. He bit down on them to suppress the forming frown. His narrowed brows relaxed when he glanced at the woman carved in the walls for the last time, sighing to relieve the tension as he made his way to class.

Click click click

The sound of his footsteps reverberated as he got closer. He could already hear the loud noises from within the classroom.

“Meline give that back to me!”

“Never! If you want your bandana back, you have to apologize to me, Noah!”

“Shut up… I'm trying to sleep while I can here…”

“Az, you should stop sleeping before the professor come-”

Too late. Ezekiel was already walking in with the roaster for their attendance in hand, taking his place behind the podium. Ezekiel smiled at the children that hushed upon his appearance. It was as if he wasn't even there, his presence was almost non-existent, or at least that's what the drowsy student wanted to believe.

“Ahem! Everyone, together. A very good morning to you, professor.”

The class greeted Ezekiel in unison as he smiled back with a subtle grace. He noticed how two of the students were glaring daggers at each other whilst a third bordered on the edge of a lengthy slumber, falling in and out of a daze, ready to sleep at any moment. Ezekiel sighed. 

“5 minutes. Wrap up whatever arguments you're having.” He stated, busying himself with checking the attendance. 

He was lenient, for this was probably the last year of their lives where they would get a chance to act like children, before the world swallowed them whole.

He watched as the troublemaker, Noah Arknight, argued with the center of attention, Meline Joy. The two were like night and day. While Meline was child-like in nature, Noah was an adolescent with much angst to his personality. Perhaps one of the reasons why they clashed so much was the contrast, Meline’s bright, idealistic outlook of the world frustrated Noah who had no sympathy for her optimism. 

Ezekiel suspected Noah might have had a minor crush on Meline, a slight dust of pink coating his cheeks as he basically wrestled her to get his bandana back. All while Meline cheekily smirked at him. Adorable. Opposites attract after all, he thought. Even the colours of their hair were like day and night. Meline had silky honey-blond hair, nearly gold in colour, meanwhile Noah’s hair was a stark shade of obsidian black through and through.

“Could you two shut the hell up? Prof gave us 5 minutes, don't ruin them for me. I could get an entire nights worth of sleep in these five minutes for crying out loud.” 

Ah. The tone of his voice was similar to what Ezekiel wanted to let out when he was speaking to Amon. Putting the hood of his sweater over his brown hair, he covered his face with his arms, seemingly grumbling. Azrael Noor. Situations like these were probably the only ones where Ezekiel ever got to see Azrael depict any kind of strong emotions, Ezekiel had only ever seen him lost in thoughts,unbothered or slacking off somewhere or the other. No matter how much Azrael lacked to be present in the moment, he had never failed to bring good results to Ezekiel. 

“Settle down guys..” there he was! The sweetest of the bunch, Kami. Just Kami, that's what the register said anyway. Kami was a gentle boy, someone who would choose peace over violence every time. He would rather skip his own lunch if it meant someone else was getting fed. Truly, a boy far too good for the world and far too unsuitable for Sol Academy. 

 “Guys please..!” Kami tried again. His curly ginger hair bounced back and forth as he slid himself between Meline and Noah. What Ezekiel loved about Kami was how deceiving his appearance was. He was 5’7, and the comfortable aura around him could easily earn him the title of a puppy, what women might call “soft”. But when it came to practicing combat skills, strategies or signature spells, Kami had always come up with the cruelest solutions and outcomes as if he wasn't just crying over hurting a ladybug minutes ago.

“Leave those rascals to eat each other alive, Kami. They never learn anyway.” the owner of the voice rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, clearly trying to display her disinterest in the meddling . 

Rain Sol 

Ironically she shared the Academy’s name but nothing about her was similar to the academy, or perhaps it was? Rain wore her emotions on her sleeve but denied the existence of them, finding them embarrassing. Rain was the oldest of the bunch. She had taken the longest out of the previous batch to ascend but whenever she did, it was in a memorable fashion. Needless to say, after Noah, Rain was the underdog of the class. Mothering everyone in a strict manner but caring for them in her own shy way. Ezekiel found it to be rather endearing how she would try to hide it. Even now, she had pulled Kami away by the arm from the quarreling idiots, just so he wouldn't get caught in the middle and hurt himself. Rain could see Kami giving her the defeated yet worried look but Rain just looked away in response. Ready to butt in the argument herself. “Hey, look what you're doing! Kami is troubled because of you guys!”

“Idiots.” An impassive tone. The owner of the voice appeared behind Kami, seeming to appear late to the scene. Square glasses with coal colored rims, she was far taller in height, dwarfing Kami. Rain glanced at the late comer from the corner of her eyes.  “You're late again, Summer. You're lucky the professor is so lenient with you.”

Summer set aside her bag, raising a mocking brow in response. 

“You shouldn't worry about someone else's credit scores when you're the one who's two years behind us, Rain.” That was a taunt and a warning. Rain grit her teeth, furious but unable to refute.

Ezekiel sighed. It has always been like this, Summer and Rain never got along, creating an awkward rift in the class. 

“You shouldn't say such irreverent things, Summer.” Kami interfered. A shadow of jadedness in his eyes but he smiled to mellow down the tension regardless.

Alright, I think that's enough leniency. They will really eat each other alive if I don't stop them.

Before Ezekiel could intervene however, the front door of the class opened with a bang. A petite girl stood there, panting. Crimson hair, glossed lips and doe-eyes. The personification of adorable. Ezekiel's favourite. She excelled in magic, curses, healing and even weaponry. An all rounder. How could Ezekiel not be proud? 

“He's back!” 

She exclaimed with enthusiasm, causing Ezekiel's left eye to twitch. He guessed immediately who she referred to, but asked nonetheless.

“Who is back, Runa?”

The girl squealed in delight, turning to face the class.

“Instructor Silver is back!”