The Glitched Mage

Chapter 21 - 21: Academy Guide

For the first time in what felt like ages, Riven had a proper night's sleep. As he sat up, stretching his limbs, the shadows curled and flickered over his skin, moving as if to greet him.

Shaking off the remnants of drowsiness, he made his way to the bathroom, stepping into the shower. The hot water cascaded over his face, washing away the last traces of exhaustion.

Then -

[[ Wow, I didn't notice this before, but you're actually quite skinny. ]]

Riven's jaw clenched. A notification window flickered into existence, completely unbothered by the fact that he was mid-shower.

"A little privacy, Nyx?" he muttered, scowling at the intrusive screen.

[[ I'm your closest aide now, your highness. ]]

[[ I need to know everything about you. ]]

Riven exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Didn't I tell you not to be annoying?"

He stepped out of the shower, drying off quickly before pulling on a fresh set of his academy uniform. Just as he finished lacing his boots -

[[ We need to come up with a workout regime. ]]

[[ Leave it to me! ]]

Before Riven could even think about protesting, the screens vanished.

He sighed, already dreading what sort of hellish torture she was going to come up with.

Riven navigated the halls, following the path indicated by the academy staff. As he walked, whispers rippled through the crowd of first-year students, their curious - and sometimes wary - glances trailing after him. Not missing a beat, he met their stares with easy, practiced smiles, masking his annoyance behind a facade of friendly charm.

As Riven stepped through the towering entrance of the grand hall, the low hum of chatter fell into a tense hush. The vast chamber stretched before him, illuminated by ethereal chandeliers that floated overhead, casting a golden glow across the assembled first-year students. Rows of long, polished tables lined the space, each seat occupied by eager initiates waiting for the elders to decide their fates.

At the front of the hall, raised on an elevated platform, stood the academy's elders. Their presence alone commanded attention - clad in their ceremonial robes, each radiated an aura of immense power. At the center of them all stood Elder Thorne, his sharp golden gaze sweeping over the gathered students with quiet intensity.

Riven strolled forward, taking his place among the other first-years, his expression calm despite the weight of so many stares. Even now, whispers filled the air.

"That's him. The one who ranked first."

"How did he beat Valis? No way it wasn't rigged."

Riven resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Let them talk. Their opinions meant nothing to him. He simply smirked, adjusting his uniform sleeve as he settled into his seat.

From across the hall, Valis sat stiffly, his jaw clenched in barely-contained frustration. Lucenya, on the other hand, seemed entirely at ease, her chin resting in her palm as she grinned at Riven with undisguised amusement.

A sharp sound echoed through the hall as Elder Thorne stepped forward, his deep voice cutting through the murmurs.

"The first-year trials have concluded," he announced, his golden gaze sweeping across the room. "Your performance has been recorded, your potential assessed, and now, the final step of your initiation begins."

The students straightened in their seats, tension thick in the air.

"Each of you will be assigned to an elder," Thorne continued, "who will oversee your development at the academy. Your training will be rigorous, our expectations high. Those who fail to meet them… will not remain here long."

Silence followed.

Riven maintained a calm facade, though irritation simmered beneath the surface. He should have been eager for this moment - being assigned a mentor meant guidance, someone to refine his magic and push his training to new heights.

But instead of a teacher, he was getting a watchdog.

Elder Thorne wouldn't just be overseeing his growth - he would be monitoring his every move, ensuring nothing slipped past the academy's scrutiny. And worse - he would be reporting directly to the king.

The thought alone sent a slow burn through Riven's veins. He wasn't just being trained.

He was being contained, like a dog on a leash.

One by one, the elders began calling names, each student stepping forward as their fates were decided. Some were visibly pleased, others disappointed. The selections continued - until Elder Thorne spoke again.

"For my class," Thorne declared, his voice carrying easily across the hall, "I have chosen four students."

The hall quieted further. Thorne was one of the most powerful figures in the academy - his selections were always watched with keen interest.

His gaze settled first on Valis Dain.

"Valis Dain."

The noble student rose swiftly, expression smoothing into something more composed, though a glint of satisfaction flickered in his eyes. This was expected. Thorne only took the best, after all.

Thorne's eyes moved.

"Lucenya Caelmont."

Lucenya grinned, stretching lazily before rising to her feet. Unlike Valis, who basked in the attention, she looked entirely unbothered.

Then -

"Jerrik Talvain."

A muscular, sharp-eyed student rose at the far end of the hall. Riven recognized him - one of the highest scorers in the trials, though he had kept a lower profile compared to Valis.

Finally, Elder Thorne's gaze landed on Riven.

"And Riven Drakar."

A stunned silence fell over the room.

The tension in the hall became suffocating. Eyes darted toward Riven in disbelief. Valis stiffened visibly, his fingers tightening at his sides. Even Lucenya arched a brow, looking mildly intrigued.

It wasn't entirely surprising that Riven had been chosen - his performance in all three trials had been exceptional. But Elder Thorne had a well-known preference for mentoring only pure-blooded nobles.

And Riven, the illegitimate son of a noble, was anything but that.

For a moment, Riven simply sat there, letting the weight of the announcement settle over the room. Then, with an easy smirk, he stood, rolling his shoulders back. He strode forward, his movements measured, exuding confidence even as the heavy silence stretched. He could feel the weight of their gazes - disbelief, curiosity, resentment.

Valis's glare burned into him, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. Lucenya's smirk deepened, her eyes gleaming with mischief as if she were enjoying the unfolding spectacle. Jerrik simply watched him, unreadable, his arms crossed over his chest.

Riven took his place beside them at the front of the hall, standing tall despite the invisible pressure pressing down on him. Elder Thorne's gaze remained steady on him for a moment longer before he continued.

"These four will be under my instruction," Thorne announced, his voice carrying through the hall. "Their training will begin tomorrow. Expect nothing less than excellence."

A ripple of murmurs followed his words, the tension in the room thickening as the implications set in.

"This can't be right," someone muttered.

"Elder Thorne has never taken in a bastard before."

"He's basically a commoner with a noble's name—there's no way he belongs there."

Riven almost laughed. The outrage was palpable, and frankly, entertaining.

But he wasn't here to prove himself to them.

He was here to take what was his.

Elder Thorne paid no mind to the whispers as he turned to the four of them. "Your induction begins at dawn. Report to the west courtyard before sunrise." His golden gaze lingered on Riven once more, unreadable, before he turned away.

With that, the ceremony continued, more names called, more students assigned their mentors. But the focus never truly left them.

As the ceremony concluded, the students were dismissed, filtering out into the corridors, still murmuring about the day's results.

Valis was the first to break away, his expression stormy as he turned sharply and stalked off without a word. Riven could practically see the rage simmering beneath his carefully composed exterior.

Jerrik also disappeared, as if vanishing into thin air.

"Well, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Lucenya mused, her brown eyes glinting with amusement as a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Are you heading to the library?"

After the ceremony, the elders had given the students permission to explore the academy grounds, advising them to visit the library to familiarize themselves with the academy's rules.

Riven glanced at Lucenya, noting the sharp amusement dancing in her eyes. She was entertained by all of this—by him, by the whispers, by the tension that still clung to the air like a storm waiting to break.

Riven sighed internally, but kept his expression neutral. Lucenya had a way of making everything sound like a game, but he wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"I was planning to," he admitted, adjusting the cuff of his uniform. "Might as well know the rules before I accidentally break one."

Lucenya's grin widened. "Smart choice. Though, let's be honest, you'll probably break a few anyway."

Riven shook his head with a small smile. "That's not the plan."

She let out an amused hum but didn't argue, falling into step beside him as they made their way toward the library. The academy's corridors were vast, lined with towering stone archways and glowing runes embedded in the walls, pulsing faintly with mana. Other students were scattered throughout, some wandering in groups while others moved alone, their eyes flickering toward Riven as he passed.

The attention was relentless.

Even now, whispers followed him.

Lucenya stretched her arms behind her head, unbothered by the murmurs. "You know, Valis might actually explode if you keep this up."

"I'm not trying to do anything to him," Riven said simply. "I just did what I had to during the trials."

Lucenya chuckled. "That's what makes it worse for him."

They reached the entrance of the library—a grand set of double doors carved with ancient sigils. As they stepped inside, the air grew noticeably cooler, and the scent of parchment and ink filled the space. Towering shelves stretched in every direction, packed with tomes, scrolls, and thick volumes bound in leather. Floating lanterns drifted lazily through the aisles, casting soft golden light over the study tables where several students were already poring over texts.

Acolytes, much like Sana, moved silently through the rows of towering bookcases, their blindfolded faces devoid of expression. They glided between the shelves with an air of quiet authority, overseeing the students and ensuring the books were being handled properly.

Riven scanned the towering bookshelves, his eyes following the golden-glowing script above each section to narrow his

Riven swallowed his food, the sudden weight in his stomach no longer from hunger but something far more unsettling.

What was she up to now?