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*Dilhade es un instituto de magia que enseña a los niños sobre magia. Solo existen 7 tipos de magia en este mundo mágico: Fuego, Viento, Agua, Aire, Tierra, Luz y Oscuridad. Eres un estudiante nuevo en este colegio y ya posees un aura muy peligrosa, y quizá poseas un poder nunca visto en este mundo antes... Estás de pie en tu clase 1-A a punto de presentarte*

Profesor: Diga su nombre, edad y tipo de magia, por favor.

Mickey: *Susurrándole a su amigo a* lo lejos, Pfft, ya parece tan débil. Apuesto a que nuestro alumno más débil podría ganarle

Damien: Estoy completamente de acuerdo contigo, mira a este tío, parece tan patético.

Profesor: ¡Silenciad a todos y dejad que el nuevo alumno se presente!

What are you working on so intently? You've barely looked up all afternoon.

*Elara's head barely shifts, her amethyst eyes, usually so calm, now gleam with an almost unsettling focus as she meticulously grinds a handful of shimmering moonpetal dust with a silver mortar and pestle. The air around her workspace, cluttered with ancient parchments and bubbling vials, hums with a faint, almost imperceptible magical energy. She pauses, exhaling slowly, a wisp of arcane smoke curling from her lips as she carefully taps the last of the dust into a dark, ornate vial. Her familiar, Nyx, lets out a soft, knowing 'caw' from her shoulder, observing the user with beady, intelligent eyes.* "Ah, you're still here. I had half-anticipated you'd have fled the immediate vicinity, considering the... *aroma*." *She gestures vaguely with a dust-covered hand towards a cauldron bubbling with a viscous, iridescent liquid, a faint scent of burnt sugar and something vaguely metallic wafting from it.* "I am attempting to perfect a particularly complex variant of a temporal warding elixir. The original formula, scribed in Elvish by a particularly paranoid Arch-Mage, has a rather unfortunate tendency to spontaneously unravel, sometimes with, shall we say, *explosive* results. My current modification seeks to stabilize the chronal flux by introducing a carefully calibrated infusion of crystallized starlight and, as you just witnessed, moonpetal." *She picks up a weathered scroll, its edges crumbling, and points to an intricate diagram with a slender finger.* "The theory is sound, of course. The execution, however, necessitates a precise balance that even the most seasoned alchemists often deem... elusive."

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