Lumina City hit me like a wall of sensory overload, stepping into the bustling metropolis felt like being born again.
I felt the weight of the silver probability limiter bracelet on my wrist, cool against my skin. "I doubt even this would work if my luck really wanted to mess with us."
Gavril laughed, already moving toward the edge of the platform. "Three hours, gentlemen. Let's not waste a single minute."
The teleportation platform itself was a massive disc of polished obsidian, similar to the one at the Academy but without the sentient presence. Instead of the swirling silver sky of the Academy, actual clouds drifted overhead, tinged with golden afternoon light. The platform stood elevated in Lumina's Central Plaza, and what a plaza it was.
Unlike Velmora's traditional cobblestone streets that transitioned to smooth obsidian, Lumina's central square was a masterpiece of magical engineering. The ground beneath our feet resembled liquid silver frozen in mid-ripple, catching light and reflecting it in mesmerizing patterns. Small rivulets of actual light flowed through channels carved into the surface, converging at the plaza's center around a colossal fountain.
The fountain defied conventional physics even more brazenly than the Academy's water features. Multiple tiers of crystal basins suspended at varying heights contained different colored waters, crimson, azure, emerald, and gold, which flowed both upward and downward simultaneously, crossing paths without mixing. At the center, a sculpture of intertwined dragons crafted from opalescent material changed poses every few minutes.
Around the plaza, buildings soared upward in elegant spires and domes that made Velmora's architecture seem primitive by comparison. Where Velmora had towering walls visible from a distance, Lumina had no walls but instead a shimmering dome of translucent magic that arched high overhead, barely visible except where sunlight caught its surface.
"Where to first?" I asked, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by possibilities.
Gavril's eyes gleamed with excitement. "The Artificer's Quarter," he whispered. "I've read about their experimental enchantment workshops. They create devices that even Academy students rarely get to see."
Finn nodded enthusiastically. "And there's supposed to be amazing street food in the market district."
"Food, definitely food first," I agreed, suddenly aware of how hungry I was after weeks of rushed meals between punishments.
Unlike the Academy, where everyone wore standard uniforms differentiated only by year colors, Lumina's citizens dressed in a riot of styles. Robes with animated patterns that shifted with the wearer's mood, clothing made from fabrics that changed colors depending on the angle of view, and accessories that hummed with visible enchantments.
As we wove through the crowd, I noticed people casting curious glances at my silver bracelet. Apparently, it marked me as more than just probability-limited.
"Academy students," I heard someone murmur as we passed. "First-years by the look of them."
"And one with a limiter," another voice added. "Wonder what he did."
I hunched my shoulders slightly, but Finn bumped me with his elbow.
"Getting attention even outside the academy, huh?" he teased.
Despite everything, I laughed. This was our first taste of freedom in weeks. I wasn't going to waste it worrying about reputation.
The market district sprawled outward from the central plaza like spokes from a wheel. Unlike the Academy's structured layout or Velmora's organized chaos, Lumina's streets curved and wound organically, sometimes splitting unexpectedly or merging with others. Navigation would have been impossible if not for the helpful light-paths embedded in the ground, different colors leading to different districts.
We followed a golden trail toward what had to be the food district, based on the increasingly mouthwatering aromas wafting toward us. The street opened into a circular courtyard lined with stalls and small cafés, each more enticing than the last.
"This," Finn declared reverently, "is what heaven smells like."
A vendor nearby chuckled at his expression. "First time in Lumina, young mages?" The woman's complexion had a faint blue tint, and her eyes sparkled like actual sapphires. "Try these, on the house for Academy first-years." She held out a tray of what looked like ordinary pastries, except they glowed from within with soft blue light.
"What are they?" I asked cautiously, my bracelet suddenly feeling heavy.
"Lumina puffs," she explained. "Pastry infused with distilled moonlight essence. Perfectly safe, even for someone with," she nodded toward my bracelet ",unusual magical circumstances."
Finn took one immediately, always the most adventurous with food. His eyes widened as he bit into it. "It tastes like... like..." He struggled for words.
Gavril grabbed one and popped it whole into his mouth. His face lit up. Literally. For a brief moment, his skin glowed with the same blue luminescence as the pastry.
"Like the first cool breeze after summer," he finally said.
I hesitantly took the last one, expecting disaster despite the bracelet. The pastry dissolved on my tongue like snowflakes, leaving behind a flavor that reminded me of starlight, like the start fruits I had in the academy. For a moment, I felt lighter than air, as though gravity had loosened its hold.
"Easily rivals the Academy's fancy food." I admitted, earning another laugh from the vendor.
"Just wait until you try real Lumina cuisine," she said. "The Academy actually keeps its students on a restricted diet; helps with magical development but terrible for culinary exploration."
We spent the next hour sampling our way through the market. Crystallized honey that hummed as you ate it, soup that changed flavor with each spoonful, and my personal favorite: ice cream that never melted and floated slightly above its cone.
As we ate, Gavril pointed out interesting individuals in the crowd. "See that woman in the crimson robes? She's wearing the insignia of the Royal Alchemists' Guild, they only accept twelve members per century." Or, "That man with the mechanical arm is probably from the Artificer's Quarter; the integration of magic and machinery is seamless."
With full stomachs and lighter spirits than we'd had in weeks, we followed a glimmering violet path toward the Artificer's Quarter. The transition between districts was marked by a change in architecture; food district buildings were rounded and warm-colored, while the Artificer's Quarter featured angular structures of metal and glass, many with moving parts or sections that reconfigured themselves periodically.
"Look at that!" Finn pointed to a shop window displaying what appeared to be ordinary gloves until the shopkeeper demonstrated by putting them on and creating intricate illusions with a flick of his fingers.
"And that!" Gavril was practically vibrating with excitement as we passed a workshop where a craftsman was installing a miniature cloud system into a glass sphere, complete with tiny lightning and scheduled rain for what looked like a botanical habitat.
We stopped to watch street performers using enchanted instruments that played themselves while hovering mid-air, creating music that seemed to materialize as visible waves of color above the crowd. Nearby, a woman in silver-blue robes created intricate ice sculptures with precise hand movements, each one coming to life briefly before melting away.
The three of us wandered through alleys where books floated between shelves in a magical library open to the sky, past gardens where plants formed patterns that shifted to spell out answers to questions asked by visitors. Time slipped away as we absorbed the wonder of a city where magic wasn't just studied but lived.
"We should see the Athenaeum," Gavril suggested as we emerged from an alley lined with shops selling animated paintings. "It's supposed to hold books even the Academy doesn't have."
Finn's stomach growled audibly despite all we'd eaten. "Actually," he said, looking slightly embarrassed, "I could use a proper sit-down meal before we get yanked back to reality, I mean, the Academy."
"I know exactly where we should go," Gavril said suddenly, snapping his fingers. "My brother told me about this café near the edge of the Artificer's Quarter. He said it has the best sweet-spiced coffee in any realm and pastries that make Academy feast days look like stale bread."
"Lead the way," I said, relieved at not having to make another decision. After weeks of regimented punishment, even choosing what to do with freedom felt overwhelming.
Gavril guided us through increasingly narrow streets until we reached a small courtyard tucked away from the main thoroughfares. In the center stood what had to be our destination; a three-story building that seemed to exist in multiple architectural styles simultaneously. The ground floor was constructed of warm brown stone with round windows emitting golden light. The second floor featured elegant arches and delicate balconies that looked too fragile to support weight yet somehow did. The top floor was almost entirely glass and crystal, reflecting the late afternoon sunlight in rainbow patterns across the courtyard.
A sign above the door read "The Possibility Parlor" in script that shifted languages every few seconds.
"This is it?" I asked, eyeing the name with suspicion. With my luck, limited or not, a place called "The Possibility Parlor" seemed like tempting fate.
"Has to be," Gavril confirmed, looking at a small note he'd pulled from his pocket. "Luke said it's the only café with a paradox clock above the door."
I followed his gaze upward and indeed saw what appeared to be a clock whose hands moved both clockwise and counterclockwise simultaneously while somehow still keeping accurate time.
The café's interior was even more impressive than its exterior. Each floor was visible from the central atrium, connected by a spiral staircase that seemed to be made of solidified smoke. The ground floor where we stood contained intimate table clusters arranged around a central hearth where blue flames danced above white stones. The ceiling, or rather, the underside of the second floor, was a moving star map.
The ambiance struck a perfect balance between the Academy's grandeur and the comfortable warmth of a village tavern. Soft music played from no visible source, and the air carried the irresistible aroma of freshly baked goods and exotic spices.
"This is..." I trailed off, unable to find adequate words.
"Perfect," Finn finished for me.
A server approached, a young woman with hair that shifted colors like oil on water. "Welcome to The Possibility Parlor," she greeted us with a warm smile. "First time visitors, I see. And Academy students at that! We don't get many first-years here."
"My brother recommended this place," Gavril explained. "Luke Moridian, he graduated three years ago."
The server's eyes lit up. "Luke! Of course I remember him. Always ordered our Paradox Pastries with dimensional coffee." She gestured toward an open table near one of the round windows. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. First round of drinks is complimentary for Academy students."
As we moved toward the table, I marveled at how normal this interaction felt. No explosions, no probability chaos, no one attacking me or bringing up the "incident." Just three friends visiting a café on a beautiful afternoon. The weight of recent weeks seemed to lift slightly from my shoulders.
We had nearly reached our table when a familiar voice called out from across the room.
"You're finally here Ardent."
My head snapped up, and there, lounging at a corner table with a steaming cup and an open book, was Elias Aurellian, looking as perfectly composed as ever.