Azriel had been informed a few days ago about his unusual role as a mentor for a new student, an assignment that bewildered him. Celestial mages, due to their rarity and the complexity of their training, had never before been assigned mentees. Instead, their final year was traditionally reserved for more specialized and solitary trials, designed to refine their unique abilities. The notion of guiding another Celestial mage was unprecedented and disconcerting, adding an unexpected layer of pressure to his already demanding final year.

He found solace in the solitude of an abandoned cathedral, a relic of the academy’s origins nestled in one of the unrenovated wings of the old castle. Azriel lay sprawled on a dusty bench, the crumbling grandeur of the cathedral around him echoing a bygone era. The quiet was a stark contrast to the bustling academy life and provided a moment of respite from the swirling confusion and anticipation surrounding his new responsibility.

As he gazed up at the fractured ceiling, a sliver of light filtered through the cracks, casting eerie shadows across the room. With a flick of his fingers, Azriel wove his magic into the motes of dust that danced in the beam of light. The particles shimmered and swirled in a delicate, otherworldly ballet. His thoughts drifted to the strange turn of events, contemplating the implications of mentoring another Celestial mage. The light play mirrored his turbulent emotions—an intricate display of beauty and chaos reflecting the uncertainty of his forthcoming role.