The Academy of Magicka had grown beyond anything Morgana had initially envisioned. Five years of peace, five years of rebuilding, five years of students flowing through its halls and returning to their homes as skilled mages ready to serve their communities. The blue robes of the academy had become a common sight across the continent, a symbol of hope and progress.
Among the faculty, one tutor stood out for his quiet competence and unassuming nature. He taught introductory magical theory to first-year students, never drawing attention to himself, never seeking recognition. His name, he told everyone, was Moore. He was from a small village in the eastern territories that had been destroyed during the Dark Lord's reign. No one questioned it. No one had reason to.
Mor'vyre had been waiting five years.
