There was once a time when Kir seriously considered attending the academy. Granted it wasn’t a long time but it was given its due consideration. It was an excellent opportunity for any young aspiring spell-caster. It’s educational staff were high ranking and respected members of the magical community. It provided a safe and well equipped environment for any spell a student could muster with their potentially limited knowledge. Though more candidly it served as a facilitator for the wealthy to network.

Once a student achieved the arbitrary rank of 6th genus there were any number of organisations snapping at their heels. The two most unambiguously successful of these were the Order and the Council. While at first glance these governing bodies seemed harmonious, any fool could see the frequent bids for power over the hidden populace, frequently getting embroiled in territorial disputes. The Order stood as a disputed authority over the wider Violet Shade, managing interactions with the crowned and behaving closer to a regulated militia than any kind of police presence. While the council’s domain was considerably smaller, and their territory less valuable, their authority extended over a huge portion of any registered spellcaster. They underwent frequent lobbying to loosen spellcasting laws in the mundane world and offered to represent any spellcaster caught violating the legislation imposed by the Order.

When a mage becomes registered, regardless of age, they are given three options. Become a member of a controversial bureaucracy and become isolated from a portion of the community, join what amounts to a supremacist group and be put on a watch list by the acting government, or stay unaffiliated. But it was the darndest thing, registered mages who remained unaffiliated were often found incinerated in back alleys or their homes raided.

Though when one joins the academy, staying unregistered is next to impossible. Even if one were to leave before reaching the 6th genus your existence is known, and these two factions refused to let a soldier go unused.

Whether by happenstance or design, the entrance to the shard containing the academy was found in Corinth Hill, the home of the city's most prestigious mundane college, Monarch University. Despite the aristocratic implications of the title, the school itself wasn’t nearly as magisterial as one might rightly assume. Rather it served as the only source of higher education without having to search abroad. While still a part of the city, Corinth Hill felt slightly detached from the rest of the cityscape, becoming a college town in its own right. The looming claustrophobia of the inner districts shifting into a discordant sprawl of college bars, bookstores and quaint bakeries.

When arriving into the college proper, the visitor was greeted with the same visual clash. Almost intentionally the surrounding buildings were composed of worn yet grandiose gothic spires, remnants of the school's long history. Though pressing inward revealed the modern concrete monstrosities spat out haphazardly, almost spoiling the majesty of the archaic architecture that obfuscated them. A gentle sun shone as the day's breeze swayed the trees rhythmically, students wandered the campus, some in conversation, others earnestly engaging in their academia.

A combination of the wards expediting his healing process and the medical expertise of a new friend allowed Kir to traverse the grounds relatively unimpeded. Though his movements were somewhat stunted so as to not open up any wounds. He could mend the stitches with a cantrip but the pain was absolutely not worth it.

For a considerable stretch the buildings were acting as a labyrinth, there was no obvious walkway that led into the shard. Kir was half-considering casting a detect magic spell until a student disappeared from reality between two buildings, drawing no attention from the crowned walking out from the gap. The approach was met with a measure of uncertainty, coming this close to a council run institution was always a risk for the unregistered. There was no real certainty that someone wouldn’t ask for confirmation of registration, but without a second more hesitation he affirmed to himself that it was a risk well worth taking.

Kir marched through into the entrance, muttering the entrance phrase he got from Lyra. As the light shimmered and his vision blurred, he was greeted with an entirely new landscape.

An extended bridge of cobbled stone spread outward, gold lining running along its edges. The same gentle sun cast the authoritative shadows of the immortalised sculptures portraying wizened elders borne from distant aeons. Each stood equidistant from each other, some humbled by their position of reverence, others with hands outstretched extolling the beauty of the pedestal on which they stood. From behind, the bridge seemed to extend beyond human sight, fading out of view over the ever shifting cloud of this enigmatic dimension. And in the direction any visitor first faced as they arrived, stood the academy.

The edifice itself was never stationary, always restructuring the order of buildings the second it was deemed unnecessary to keep it still. Two halos of gold rotated around the entirety of the academy, always stopping short of hitting the bridge, effortlessly reorienting themselves. Spires of brick and stone hovered above the frequently shifting expanse of the school, moving with the halos so as to never touch. While at first glance disparate and unorganised, under closer observation each component moved as if one aspect of a mechanism, working perfectly in sync with another. No two objects ever touched, and the speeds remained consistent, like the gears of a watch moving to complement each other.

Much like the Monarch campus, students walked about the bridge further into the campus. Though the features of these apparent neophytes were noticeably removed from the relative homogeneity of the others. Elemental descendents, elves, dwarves, tieflings, all manner of students attended with a united goal, arcane excellence. Kir made his way forward, his mind baffled at how anyone got to their classes with this M.C. Escher mess of a campus. The closer he moved the less sense the infrastructure made, though the one apparently stationary feature of the school was an entrance hall.

From the high marble ceiling hung a chandelier of paradoxical construct, almost a microcosm for the manner in which the buildings of the campus oriented themselves. The hall continued up a wide flight of stairs, a luxurious red carpet ensorcelled such that not a mark of filth could stain itself upon it. As the flight met its peak, off of a small pedestal levitated a gargantuan rotating globe of lapis lazuli, strange circular runes marked out its circumference with pure gold embossing. Kir wandered further past the globe, hoping for an information desk or receptionist, unfortunately the remainder of the hall was liminal, save for the multiplex connection of various staircases leading to what were likely classrooms.

The sheer scale of the interior made his head spin, he had no idea where to start. One wrong step and he’d be walking the halls until the next age. Students walked confidently up stairs and down hallways as if this ever shifting maze was the route to a supermarket. Despite Kir being comfortably steadied through alchemical means, approaching one of these students was a pipe dream and wandering lost for hours was a much more preferable alternative.

“Lost?” rang out a voice.

Kir turned to its direction, confused as to whether he was the one being addressed. What confronted him was a young man, dressed raggedly with nubs of swept back horns on his head. Kir looked behind him to assure he was the one being spoken to, then turned back when no one else responded to his address.

“Guessing it’s your first day huh?” The man continued, looking about the hall.

Kir nodded in response.

“Um, yeah, do you think you could give me some directions?” He requested, grateful for the assumption.

“You don’t have your divination compass? They usually provide it when you get accepted” The boy’s brow furrowed as he began to rummage through the bag by his hip.

Kir shrugged in response.

“That’s ok, where are you headed?”

“I kind of needed to talk to the arcano-tech professor about my classes, do you know where his office is?”

The boy pulled a flat iron disc engraved with divination runes and made a slight wince.

“Damn, good luck with him” He began to tap some of the runes as a red light ran through the circuitry.

“What do you mean?” Kir questioned, now his turn to furrow his brow.

This altruistic figure took a moment to consider his response, looking off into the distance for a moment.

“Professor Simmons has a bit of a reputation, he’s one of the more” he paused ”eccentric members of faculty” a big smile appeared on his face “but what can you expect when you come to such a prestigious magical school!”

Kir sighed as he prepared himself for aberrant behavioural norms that powerful wizards develop as they get closer to the pinnacle of their craft. The boy completed the spell and collected a small glowing bead of red mana between his fingers before offering it forward.

“Here this will lead to his office” The man said with a smile.

Kir hesitantly took the bead into his hand allowing it to levitate slightly. It shifted to the left, drawing his attention towards one of the flights of stairs off to the edge of the hall. Kir raised his head to thank the man but he had already disappeared from sight.

When he considered the M.C Escher comparison he didn’t know how accurate it was until he attempted to traverse the staircases. Without the divination spell guiding him, he would probably have more luck jumping off the side of the balustrade and hoping for the best. Not to mention stairs are by far the worst form of transportation, no wonder wizards invented teleportation, by the time he reached a hallway Kir was almost drenched in sweat. The strict exercise regimen of a shut in doesn’t contain a huge amount of cardio.

While the entrance hall was inundated with travelling students, a sharp drop off in number began further into the academy. The chattering of amateur wizards gradually lessened as the sound of mechanical gearwork intensified. After stepping off the final flight Kir found himself in an entirely empty hallway with only one unassuming door on the left facing wall. A proximity sensor must have been activated as after getting close, the door swayed open with an ominous creak.