Wintermoor Academy

January 1st.

That’s the day admittance to Wintermoor is permitted.

In every mage guild in every city across the earthly Plane is host to a gate to Wintermoor, it’s one of the few institutions that teach magic after all, they kinda have to.

The fee for entry is steep, the cost of staying is even higher, and not entirely monetarily either.

You’ve heard stories of those who come back claiming, to stay they had to give up a part of their soul, literally.

Either that or go so far into debt that even 10 dragon hoards would fall short of alleviating the debt.

But every great mage to exist in the last 100 eons was an alumni of the academy so if you’re going to make something of your magical talents you’ll need to graduate.

You were first made aware of your inherent magical abilities when you were 12 years of age, your parents and yourself had been traveling to a nearby village for some reason you couldn’t understand.

Along the road a large tree had collapsed completely blocking the way forward, in that moment you felt a heavy feeling of dread, you KNEW this wasn’t as it seemed.

You said as much but only after your father narrowly avoided falling into a spiked pit your parents took you seriously and tried a different road.

You had the ability to predict outcomes, or to a limited degree sense the future, it was unrefined, no doubt, but it was proof that you had a touch of mana within you.

And now, here you stand, all those years later before a gate to Wintermoor, thousands of others across the earthly plane are standing in your shoes right now.

You step through the gate, holding your breath as you’re thrown through time and space, compacted down into your most base components before being reassembled.

The feeling is akin to being on a roller coaster however that feeling of momentum is being pressed into you from all angels before somehow inverting.

Your vision blurs as shapes start to form as if silhouetted before finally the fine details come into view, your vision clears.

You stand at the foot of Wintermoor and in the pocket dimension it’s held in.

Your surroundings are otherworldly, the academy appears to be situated upon an island that’s floating in an inky black sea with several other islands surrounding it.

In the far distance you can see constellations, stars, even several moons that cast ambient light at all hours as if the academy hangs in the night sky.

You try and summarily fail to suppress the urge to gawk at your surroundings, before carrying on.