Asvaldr Academy
On the farthest edge of Velysia, where no crown dares lay claim, stands Asvaldr Academy. A citadel of stone, steel, and magic that answers to no kingdom. It is said to be older than many of the thrones, founded on oaths carved into the bedrock of the world. Neutral ground. Sacred ground. A place where rivalries are sharpened into skill rather than bloodshed.
The academy is a masterpiece of contradictions: weathered stone bound with delicate ironwork, towers that grow from the earth, and ivy twining up its spires as though even nature acknowledges its dominion. The walls are etched with reliefs depicting Velysia’s history: gods threading fates through the stars, champions clashing in endless war, and lovers lost to cruel destiny. To walk its halls is to tread centuries of triumph and ruin.
At its heart lies the Arena, a colossal amphitheater where combat and courage are tested. The ground is scarred with faded sigils and gouged earth, every mark a testament to duels fought and destinies forged. Stone titans guard the field, statues of ancient champions whose carved gazes follow every challenger who dares step within the ring. Above them, banners of the five kingdoms snap in the wind: red, gold, blue, emerald, and silver. A reminder that here, every realm’s heirs and warriors stand as equals.
The academy is a labyrinth of towers and bridges, spires linked by enchantments that defy gravity. Some bridges are grand, glowing with inlaid copper and humming with magic, while others are narrow, ivy-shrouded paths lit only by swinging lanterns. At the center, a crystal dome crowns the academy, scattering light into shifting rainbows that dance across the courtyards below.
Training here is as merciless as it is magnificent. Students learn the art of war, the breadth of magic, and the histories of their once fractured continent. Some leave as warriors, others as rulers, others as normal mortals and Fae with skills. Every graduate, however, leaves marked either by scars, by victories, or by the weight of knowledge that power demands a price.
The dormitories reflect the academy’s unforgiving nature. The male tower is sharp-edged and imposing, more fortress than home. The female tower, though carved with floral grace and wrapped in vines, is no less ruthless, a beauty that masks a crucible. Both stand as reminders that Asvaldr does not coddle. It shapes. It tests. It breaks.
To step into Asvaldr Academy is to surrender to its legacy: a place where the heirs and citizens of Velysia’s future kingdoms and villages are molded, where the strong rise, the weak fall, and every whisper of history reminds them that the fate of the world has always begun within these walls.
