Weight of the World

Chapter 1

The mahogany halls were busier than usual. Students ran to meet their friends, weaving in and out of classrooms and in-between their teachers. Even the staff had a pep in their step as they made their way through the school. A few moments later, a ceremonial chime rang throughout the buildings and there was a unanimous cheer: the Winter Break had officially started.

Stepping between a group of students struggling to open a portal, the Magician sighs. He'd originally stopped while adjusting the weight of his bag, but he couldn't help but frown at the commotion. An irritated thought crossed his mind as he flung an arm their way, sending a sigil flying towards their main castor. When the sigil contacted them, their powers amplified and within moments the portal ignited. By the time they'd turned to thank him, he was gone.

He stepped into the East Wing of their main campus, taking a moment to bow his head towards one of the statues lining the threshold. It throbbed with turquoise magic as he continued. His footsteps echoed throughout the now empty dormitory, and he strained himself to listen for others. No one else was here. Presumably, they'd all gone home. He hoped that they did.

Continuing further down, he turned to face a narrow hallway. There were no statues guarding the threshold, but the boy bowed anyway. A moment passed and he stepped through, making his way into the older dorms. Older age-wise, not dorms meant for older students. The paint was chipped in places and the wooden floors bore few splinters. His eyes gazed past the numbers to each room. 104, 103, 102...

A small smile encompassed his face as he pulled a paper from his pocket, placing it to the door's front. He pulled his hand away as the paper began to burn, an emblem forming in its place. Moments later, the lock clicked, and he pushed his way into his dorm.

He slung his bag onto the floor and sighed as the door shut behind him. As he stepped into his kitchen, he waved his hand towards the cabinets, fetching a cup, a teabag, and sugar. His other hand carried the kettle to his oven, where he turned it on and waited for it to boil. Once the kettle whistled, he snapped out of his daze and finished making his tea. Another wave of his hand sent everything back to where it belonged, and he carried his mug towards his living room. The moment he set his drink down, the building began to shake violently.

He tensed as a loud crash echoed down the hallway. His head snapped to his window, where he saw smoke rising from a newly formed crater. Growling quietly, he took a sip from his cup before bolting towards his door, throwing his bag onto his shoulder...

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The click of his boots blended into the cacophony as he weaved in between his students. Despite the hustle and bustle of Winter Break, the Instructor wanted nothing more than to sink back into his research. Clutching the briefcase of loose paper and uncapped pens, he put a pep in his step as he headed towards his office. A path was cleared as he walked through, earning waves and gentle 'have a good break, Mr. Pearlist!'s as he went.

As he was about to turn into the West Wing, the clasp of his briefcase exploded open, scattering the contents all over the floor. He stood there for a moment, flabbergasted, but eventually he knelt down to pack his belongings back where they belonged. Another student fell to their knees, quickly grabbing papers and returning them to him. One of their friends skimmed the page, raising a brow.