《The Voidflame Edict》


 Chapter 1.

    The soft morning sunlight streamed through the window of their modest apartment, casting a gentle glow on the brass astronomical instruments adorning the shelves. Such a sight was common in Lexican households, where the limited supply of mana led to a strong reliance on technology. Kor dug into his breakfast, savouring each bite of eggs, while his mother¡¯s laughter echoed throughout the kitchen.


    ¡°The food isn¡¯t going anywhere, dear,¡± Lora said, her eyes crinkling with amusement. She glanced over at her husband, shaking her head. ¡°He¡¯s taking far too much after you, Derran.¡±


    His father chuckled, patting his considerable stomach as he sat at the table, surrounded by papers covered in complex equations. ¡°You can¡¯t blame us, Lora. Your cooking is just that good.¡± He reached for another piece of bacon, proving his point.


    The wooden clock on the wall ticked steadily as Lora began clearing away the dishes. ¡°After the testing today, it¡¯ll only be a few weeks until you¡¯re starting your studies with us at the university.¡± She smiled warmly. ¡°Your father¡¯s already bragging about it to his colleagues.¡±


    Kor mumbled his agreement around a mouthful of perfectly crispy bacon, earning another fond look from his mother. The familiar comfort of their morning routine almost made him forget about the mandatory testing later that day. Almost.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t see why they bother with these tests,¡± his father grumbled, ink-stained fingers drumming against the table. ¡°Lexica needs all the mathematicians it can get. Testing for magical potential is such a waste of time.¡±


    ¡°You know the Edict is there to keep us all safe, honey,¡± Lora said, her tone gentler now. She placed a reassuring hand on Kor¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s not like Kor is going to get selected. Nobody in our family ever has.¡±


    His father nodded, shooting Kor a concerned look that didn¡¯t quite match his earlier confidence. Something in that glance made Kor¡¯s stomach twist, despite the delicious breakfast.


    ¡°Enough of that,¡± she said with a gentle smile, her voice a salve against the tension in the room. ¡°Let¡¯s talk about something interesting. Have you decided what branch to focus on, Kor? I know you said¡ª¡±


    ¡°Number theory!¡± Kor said, finishing the last sausage on his plate. The familiar topic helped ease the strange tension that had settled over the table.


    ¡°Like father, like son indeed!¡± Derran gloated; his earlier worry forgotten.


    Kor tugged at the folds of his robe, its generous cut hiding the weight he¡¯d gained from too many late-night snacks. Though he was determined to surpass his dad in more than girth.


    His father¡¯s picture still hung on the university¡¯s wall of distinguished students, something his mother had proudly shown him when he was younger. That image had burned itself into his mind, setting a standard he was determined not just to live up to, but to surpass.


    Lora shot him a look that spoke volumes about old academic debates. ¡°Don¡¯t be too hasty, dear. Geometry still has so much work that needs to be done to advance the field, and with your sharp mind and grades...¡±


    Her voice trailed off as Kor contemplated asking for seconds, weighing the opportunity for extra bacon against having to endure another round of his mother¡¯s gentle campaign for geometry.


    The steady clop of horse hooves on cobblestones drifted in through the window, carrying the hum of the waking street. In just a few hours, he¡¯d be at the testing centre¡ªa mere formality, he reminded himself, before he could finally embark on his true journey into mathematics.


    By mid-morning, Kor and his parents joined the steady stream of teenagers filing into the testing facility, the atmosphere tinged with nervous energy. The building rose before them, all stern grey stone and official-looking columns¡ªpure Lexican architecture, favouring function over form. Wide double doors stood open, swallowing up nervous students and their families at regular intervals.


    ¡°This way, dears,¡± Lora took charge, ushering them through the entrance. She quickly spotted the signs directing them to queue for testing, her teacher¡¯s eye for detail proving useful as they navigated the busy corridors. Kor adjusted his ponytail nervously as they joined the line.


    The noise of countless conversations washed over him as he tried to focus on his university preparations instead of his growing anxiety. His parents had already secured copies of the first-year texts¡ªa privilege of their positions¡ªand he¡¯d read through each of them twice. The chapter on quadratic residues still troubled him, though his pride wouldn¡¯t let him ask for help just yet. He¡¯d figure it out himself, just as soon as¡ª


    His thoughts scattered as the blonde girl in front of him conjured a small sphere of mana, letting it hover above her upraised palm. The pearlescent light cast strange shadows on the stone walls.


    ¡°Stop that, Mindy!¡± Her mother¡¯s harsh whisper cut through the background chatter. ¡°Showing off won¡¯t get you admitted to Conflux Academy.¡±


    ¡°What else am I supposed to do?¡± the girl protested, shoulders slumping. ¡°Waiting around here all day is so boring.¡±


    Her mother¡¯s glare could have etched equations into stone, and the sphere of mana winked out of existence.


    ¡®Strange girl,¡¯ Kor thought, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. ¡®The arcane was for the reckless and the otherworlders, those who lacked Lexican discipline. Mathematics didn¡¯t warp the world¡ªit revealed its elegant order.¡¯


    After several minutes of waiting, the line shuffled forward, and suddenly the girl turned, catching him staring. A grin spread across her face that made his heart skip several beats. He¡¯d seen that look before, usually right before some social disaster struck.


    ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Mindy.¡±


    Kor¡¯s brain seized up like an ill-formed equation. ¡°H-hello,¡± he managed, fixing his gaze on a particularly fascinating crack in the floor tiles. A strand of hair fell across his face as he fought the urge to brush it away.


    ¡°Are you hoping to get into Conflux Academy too?¡± Without waiting for his response, she ploughed ahead, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. Kor took a half-step backward, his loose robes swishing against the floor. ¡°You know there¡¯s only a hundred spots right, and that¡¯s for every sixteen-year-old on the planet!¡±


    He couldn¡¯t even bring himself to nod his head or form words as she continued, his fingers fidgeting with the worn edge of his robes¡ªa nervous habit he¡¯d developed over years of awkward social interactions.


    ¡°It¡¯s not like there aren¡¯t other places to study magic, but Conflux is where all the best wizards got their start. Mum wants me to focus on the sciences, but what kind of idiot does that when they can learn magic?¡± Mindy focused her gaze on him, as if expecting him to answer the question seriously.


    ¡°Uh, yeah¡­ Mathematics is best,¡±


    Her expression shifted to an equal mix of confusion and incredulity as Kor mentally winced. The familiar look of disapproval crossed her face¡ªthe one he¡¯d seen countless times when girls realised he couldn¡¯t maintain a simple conversation¡ªbefore she turned back to her mother, interest clearly lost.


    ¡®Smooth, Kor, smooth,¡¯ he chastised himself silently, adjusting his glasses more out of habit than necessity.


    His parents pretended to be absorbed in reading the testing facility¡¯s posted notices, their studied nonchalance both mortifying and oddly touching.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    After what felt like an eternity of wallowing in embarrassment, they were finally called into the testing room. At its centre stood a crystal that dominated the space¡ªeasily ten feet tall and pulsing with a soft, otherworldly light that made Kor¡¯s eyes water if he looked at it too long. Two government officials waited beside it, their crisp uniforms and clipboards radiating bureaucratic authority.


    The lead official adjusted his spectacles and straightened, his tone becoming deliberate and measured, as though pronouncing a decree. ¡°In accordance with Lexica¡¯s commitment to the Voidflame Edict, all citizens of age are required to submit to magical potential testing. Non-compliance will result in indefinite detention until such time as compliance is rendered. Do you, Kor Penman, consent to this testing?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Kor said, forcing steadiness into his voice.


    The official gave a curt nod, setting his papers aside with precision. From a drawer, he retrieved a gleaming ceremonial blade, its edge catching the crystal¡¯s radiance. Kor¡¯s breath hitched, and he instinctively stepped back, colliding with his mother.


    ¡°We¡¯ll require a blood sample to attune the crystal,¡± the official stated, holding the knife out toward Kor with a deliberate motion.


    ¡°Would you allow me?¡± His father stepped forward smoothly, drawing his own pocket knife before Kor could answer. The official paused, studied him for a moment, and then lowered the institutional blade with a slight tilt of his head.


    His father spoke softly and gently, calming Kor¡¯s fears. ¡°Just a small cut. Nothing to worry about.¡±


    The crystal loomed before them, its light flickering, almost in recognition. Even without formal training, Kor felt the thrum of arcane energy emanating from it, brushing against his senses like a half-forgotten memory. A memory he had buried. No, he reminded himself. He¡¯d shut that side of himself away; he was going to be a mathematician, just like his parents. Just like his father.


    His hand trembled as he extended it, the motion betraying the effort it took to keep steady. A loose strand of hair fell across his face, but he didn¡¯t dare brush it away.


    ¡°Hold still,¡± his father drew the blade swiftly, pricking Kor¡¯s fingertip. The sting bit sharp and clean, grounding him in its simplicity. Blood welled, a vivid red against his pale skin, and his father gently guided his hand to the crystal¡¯s surface.


    The air grew heavy as Kor¡¯s blood touched the stone. A pulse of mana rippled outward, pressing against his skin like a warm current. The crystal absorbed the smear of crimson greedily, its surface glowing brighter as a low hum resonated through the room.


    Kor.


    The voice echoed clearly in his mind, as though someone had whispered directly into his thoughts. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn¡¯t heard it in years¡ªnot since he was a child. Back then, it had been a quiet companion, its presence interwoven with his fascination for numbers and patterns.


    Never had it spoken so vividly before. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to meet the crystal¡¯s soft glow. He had never told his parents about the voice¡ªnever wanted to risk their confusion or fear. But now, with its resurgence timed so precisely with this test, unease coiled in his stomach.


    Kor lingered, his hand still pressed to the stone as the steady thrum of mana pulsed faintly beneath his palm. What did it mean? And why now?


    ¡°You can step back,¡± the government official announced, while his colleague offered Kor a small piece of tissue for his hand. Kor¡¯s knees buckled as he staggered back, colliding with his father. The voice lingered in his mind, an unwelcome guest dredging up half-forgotten fears.


    He steadied himself as he accepted the tissue. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out his father¡¯s concerned murmur.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, dabbing at the cut. As he looked up at the crystal, he saw no change. ¡°Are we done then?¡±


    The official was about to answer when the crystal shifted, its clear surface taking on a light green tinge.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, son.¡± His father¡¯s voice carried forced cheerfulness. ¡°Your mother and I both scored low orange when we were younger, far from anything the Edict would require.¡±


    Kor nodded, watching as the green darkened to a deep olive. His mind drifted to that mysterious voice from his past. He¡¯d always suspected its arcane origin, though he never wanted to admit it. The weight of his future felt precarious, as if it balanced on a thread. Every year, tens of thousands of sixteen-year-olds underwent this test across the planet; the odds of him being chosen were so slim that he shouldn¡¯t even waste a thought on it.


    Yet a prickle of doubt gnawed at him, his gut twisting with unease. Deep down, beneath layers of logic and denial, a long-dormant instinct stirred¡ªone he¡¯d spent years trying to silence.


    The room fell into tense silence, broken only by the soft rustle of his mother¡¯s robes as she moved to grasp his uninjured hand. The crystal continued its transformation through the various hues before reaching the light orange his parents had mentioned.


    But it didn¡¯t stop.


    His mother¡¯s grip tightened as the orange deepened to an intense carrot shade. Sweat beaded on Kor¡¯s forehead, his wire-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose.


    ¡°Everything is fine, Kor,¡± his father said, though the crack in his voice betrayed him. ¡°It¡¯s not like we¡¯re anywhere near the draft threshold¡­ not yet.¡±


    ¡°Your father is correct,¡± the official said, though his tone had taken on an edge of interest that made Kor¡¯s stomach clench. ¡°Most years, even light red won¡¯t get you drafted by the Edict.¡±


    The crystal continued to flow through deepening shades of orange as a subtle red saturated the arcane object. Kor shook his head in denial, his loose hair swaying with the movement. Surely it couldn¡¯t go any further. He¡¯d spent so many years trying to avoid any interaction with the arcane, trying to repress the resonance he felt. He was going to become a mathematician!


    His thoughts scattered like equations without solutions as the reddish colour solidified, taking on the same crimson shade as the blood he¡¯d just shed.


    ¡°What is the colour of the draft this year?¡± His father¡¯s voice had lost all its earlier warmth and confidence, replaced by a tremor Kor had never heard before.


    ¡°A deep red seems to be the breakpoint this year,¡± the official responded, his tone apologetic. ¡°With the current measurement, there¡¯s still a chance your son won¡¯t be called on to attend Conflux Academy. You¡¯d best start praying there are more gifted individuals than we usually produce.¡±


    ¡®Gifted?¡¯ The word seemed to mock everything Kor had ever worked for, every late night spent studying, every careful preparation for university. His academic dreams hung by a thread as thin as the blood still beading on his finger.


    The crystal¡¯s colour continued to intensify for several more seconds before seeming to stabilise on a bright ruby red. Kor¡¯s wire-rimmed glasses had slipped down his nose again, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to adjust them.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t there anything we can do?¡± his father said, voice a whisper.


    ¡°No. Your son¡¯s exact mana level will need to be weighed against the other candidates this year. Besides, there are worse things than having to attend Conflux Academy.¡± The official withdrew a separate, smaller crystal, stepping up to the larger one. A soft hum filled the air as something about the crystals seemed to resonate with each other, the smaller one taking on the same hue as the first.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to get this score submitted, but there¡¯s still a chance your son won¡¯t be called up.¡±


    There was still a chance! Relief flooded through Kor as his mother pulled him into a tight hug. He could feel her heart hammering against his chest, matching his own frantic rhythm.


    After what felt like an eternity, the official spoke, his voice flat and unyielding. ¡°Wait, a moment. It hasn¡¯t settled yet.¡±


    The relief that had flooded Kor drained away in an instant. He turned, his loose robes swirling, to face the crystal. The deep red shimmered, wavering as if uncertain of its own nature. And then, as though finding resolve, the colour shifted.


    ¡°No...¡± Kor whispered. His voice was barely audible over the hum of the room, the sound of his future slipping away.


    The crimson bled into purple, darkening into a bruised hue that seemed to devour the surrounding light, like a ravenous void swallowing the last embers of a dying flame. His breath hitched as the colour deepened further, the crystal radiating with an intensity that made his heart pound in his chest.


    ¡°It¡¯s still changing,¡± one official murmured, clipboard forgotten.


    Kor¡¯s mother gripped his hand, her nails digging into his skin. He welcomed the sting; it anchored him against the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. But the crystal wasn¡¯t finished. The purple darkened, deepening into an uncompromising violet, its glow suffused with a raw, thrumming energy.


    The room held its breath, every eye fixed on the crystal as it pulsed with deep violet light. The silence was oppressive, as though even sound had fled the suffocating presence of the impossible.


    ¡°How can this be?¡± His father¡¯s voice cracked, breaking the stillness. ¡°We¡¯ve never had a single wizard in the family. This... this has to be some kind of error.¡±


    The official turned, his expression unreadable. ¡°There are no errors with the testing. The crystal has determined your son¡¯s mana affinity. Deep violet is rare, sir. Exceptional.¡±


    Exceptional. The word struck Kor like a slap. Not for his studies. Not for the nights spent solving puzzles and proving theorems. He wanted to scream, to run, but his feet refused to move.


    His father¡¯s voice rose, but the words blurred into background noise. Kor¡¯s attention remained fixed on the crystal, its violet glow casting strange shadows across the room. Each flicker of light seemed to mock him, an unspoken reminder of the life he¡¯d lost in an instant.


    His mother pulled him into a tight embrace. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, honey.¡±


    Kor didn¡¯t respond. His world had collapsed into the void of that violet light. Every late-night calculation, every meticulous plan¡ªreduced to ash. Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.


    The official stepped forward, a smaller crystal in hand. It glowed in tandem with the larger one, mirroring its deep violet hue. ¡°We will submit this result immediately. Your son¡¯s mana level leaves no room for doubt. His future is in Conflux Academy.¡±


    Kor barely heard him. His mother¡¯s arms were the only thing keeping him upright as the future he¡¯d built brick by brick crumbled into ash. Gone was the steady path laid by his father¡¯s legacy, replaced by a road shrouded in arcane uncertainty. The thought of magic, once distant and irrelevant, now loomed over him like an unyielding shadow.

 Chapter 2.

    It had been nearly a week since his testing. Both of his parents had made the journey overland to the capital of Zerathus with him, and now they¡¯d joined the sea of other teenagers and their families waiting outside the gleaming white stone of the portal station. The building¡¯s clean, efficient architecture was pure Lexican¡ªall straight lines and perfect angles¡ªbut somehow its pristine walls were more akin to a prison than a gateway.


    Kor adjusted the strap on his backpack, its heavy load pulling his hunched figure into a painfully straight posture for once. His mother had packed it to bursting with everything she could think of¡ªfresh robes, underwear, socks, toiletries, even his favourite childhood blanket stuffed somewhere near the bottom. He¡¯d tried to protest that last addition, but she¡¯d insisted with such fierce determination that he hadn¡¯t had the heart to argue.


    Kor scanned the crowd, noting the slumped shoulders and downcast eyes of his peers. He wasn¡¯t the only one reeling from the testing crystal¡¯s verdict. For years, his dreams had been so clear, joining the ranks of prestigious mathematicians like his father. Unravelling the mysteries of the universe through pure logic and precision. But when the crystal flared violet, it had ripped that dream apart. Magic had claimed him instead, chaotic and unpredictable, everything he¡¯d worked to avoid.


    He sighed and adjusted his glasses. There was no going back. The Conflux Academy was his last future now; and despite an embracing amount of time spent moping, he was going to make the best of it. Like any good mathematician, sometimes you had to know when to abandon a faulty line of thinking. He attempted to force some optimism; he was one of the most mana-gifted individuals on the planet and that had to count for something.


    His mother brushed some non-existent dust off his robes, her hands trembling slightly. ¡°Make sure you write to us, Kor. We¡¯re going to be living on different planets now, but that won¡¯t stop us from caring about you.¡±


    ¡°I know, Mom, I promise I¡¯ll write.¡± He forced a smile for her sake.


    His father chimed in, ¡°Look on the bright side, Kor. Perhaps you¡¯ll discover some kind of magic that can help with mathematics?¡±


    Kor tilted his head to the side, his ponytail swaying with the movement. ¡°Is that even possible?¡±


    ¡°Who knows? But any time I¡¯ve heard those wizards talking, they wax eloquently about the mysterious nature of magic and its countless forms. I¡¯ve heard of various types of wizards, from Fractal Dancers to Gravity Thieves¡ªwho¡¯s to say there isn¡¯t some kind of math magic out there?¡±


    He knew his dad was just trying to help, and that was enough for him. ¡°Thanks, Dad.¡±


    He still had more he wanted to express, but something had caught the attention of the gathered mass of students and parents. Moments later, the grand doors to the facility opened, and a loud voice boomed over the amassed crowd: ¡°Students only, please make your way inside as we prepare you for transit.¡±


    Kor quickly gave his parents a joint hug, their joint strength threatening to crush him. His father¡¯s familiar ink-stained fingers pressed into his back, and the smell of his mother¡¯s lavender soap washed over him one last time.


    ¡°Even if this isn¡¯t what you wanted,¡± his father said, ¡°do your best, son. Apply yourself like you¡¯ve done to mathematics, and anything is possible.¡±


    They separated as his mother nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll make you proud, both of you,¡± His voice cracking at the end. On the verge of being overcome by emotion, he turned and joined the stream of students heading inside, his wire-rimmed glasses fogging up with unshed tears.


    Kor wiped his glasses clean with the sleeve of his robe as the wave of students carried him towards the open doorway. The crowd jostled him from all sides, his compact, rotund frame making him feel like driftwood caught in a tide of anxious teenagers. He clutched his backpack tighter, trying to maintain his footing on the polished stone floor as they entered the gleaming white building.


    At five-foot-six, he was short, even by teenage standards. Many of the girls towered over him, making it impossible to see much beyond the backs of his fellow students. He struggled to stay afloat in the sea of movement, the weight of the crowd pushing and pressing ever onwards.


    Thankfully, they didn¡¯t have to travel far. The large corridor of the complex soon opened into a massive room dominated by the sight of the giant portal. The portal shimmered, suspended in a rectangular frame of gleaming blue metal, etched with runes that pulsed faintly with their own rhythm. Mesmerising patterns rippled on the liquid quicksilver surface, exuding a faint hum that seemed to resonate in Kor¡¯s chest.


    Even the air nearby carried the acrid tang of mana discharge, mingled with the ozone-like sharpness of active spells. The sight making his eyes water slightly, as if his brain couldn¡¯t quite process what it was seeing.


    As children, they¡¯d all learned about the portal. A gateway to the world of Conflux, where the most gifted magical users of seven different planets gathered to study. He¡¯d come to a halt, gawking, before a rough shoulder from behind sent him stumbling forward.


    Before he could crash into the students ahead, a strong arm arrested his movement. ¡°Whoa there, friend,¡± a confident voice cut through the din of teenagers.


    Kor found himself steadied by a tall, athletic young man with golden-blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Everything about him radiated an easy confidence, from his perfect posture to his expertly tailored robes, complete with what appeared to be a silver signet ring.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Kor managed, trailing off without a name to use.


    ¡°Marcus Tallow, at your pleasure,¡± the young man said, a brilliant smile lighting up his face.


    ¡°Thank you, Marcus. I¡¯m Kor...¡± His voice trailed off as recognition dawned. Tallow¡ªthat surname rang a bell even for someone as insular as he. ¡°Are you one of the Tallows?¡±


    Marcus laughed, the sound somehow both charming and practised, but before he could respond, another voice thundered across the amassed teenagers. ¡°Make your way to the officers up front and prepare your badges for inspection!¡±


    The command brought Kor¡¯s hand automatically to the badge he¡¯d been issued at the testing centre almost a week ago.


    Marcus solid hand gripped Kor¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s stick together, hmm?¡± Marcus said, clapping Kor¡¯s shoulder like they were lifelong friends. His grin gleamed like polished silver. ¡°I¡¯ve got a knack for spotting talent, and you, my friend, look like you could use a guide through this madness.¡±


    Kor bobbed his head in agreement, hardly believing that he¡¯d practically run into a celebrity. The Tallows owned half the businesses in his hometown, and even here in the capital, they were one of the foremost families. He trailed in Marcus¡¯s wake as they moved forward, the taller boy¡¯s presence naturally parting the crowd before them.


    Somehow, despite the sheer weight of numbers, Marcus guided them to the front of the queue without a single question being raised as Kor followed in the taller boy¡¯s shadow. Though given Marcus¡¯s size and stature, perhaps Kor ought to be thinking of him as a man. He shook the idle thought away as one of the government officials waved a magic crystal over their badges.


    This close to the portal, he could make out the countless array of military personnel guarding it¡ªa mixture of wizards in flowing robes and soldiers dressed in traditional steel armour, their halberds held at the ready. The air seemed to crackle with power.


    The checkpoint guards directed them towards the shimmering mass of quicksilver after they passed through. Marcus waited a few paces ahead, completely unfazed by the otherworldly sight. ¡°Come along, Kor, let¡¯s see what Conflux has in store for us.¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Marcus barely spared a glance backward as he strode confidently into the portal. Kor hurried to catch up, not giving himself time to think as he, too, stepped into the silvery liquid.


    Strange sensations instantly inundated his mind. Time seemed to stretch out as he felt his body moving, but not physically. In the transition between worlds, something brush against his mind, familiar and closer than ever. ¡®Soon, Kor,¡¯ came the whisper once again.


    The experiences defied explanation as, a mere instant later, he emerged on the other side. The potent mana of Conflux washed over him like opening the door to an oven. Heavy and intense. Unlike anything he¡¯d ever experienced.


    As Conflux came into focus, his breath caught in his chest. Towers of gleaming crystal and shimmering stone twisted skyward, their surfaces alive with runes and shifting colours. Bridges arched impossibly between the spires, many bustling with people. Mana coursed visibly through the air, creating iridescent trails that flickered in and out of existence.


    His chest tightened. How could one city hold so much energy, so much life? He felt overwhelmingly small, as if the weight of it all might crush him. His fingers clenched the straps of his backpack, grounding him in the tangible. One step at a time. Just breathe.


    Marcus suffered no such trepidation, stepping ahead, his expression unruffled. ¡°Fantastic. Conflux certainly lives up to its name as the home of magic, wouldn¡¯t you say, Kor?¡±


    ¡°Y-Yes,¡± he said, his voice weak as the sheer sensory overload threatened to overwhelm him. His knees wobbled, and he had to resist the urge to hunch his shoulders against the pressing weight of mana.


    ¡°Move along now,¡± came the voice of another guardsman, his accent and pale skin distinctly unlike any Kor had ever encountered before. As Marcus and he headed down the ramp, Kor couldn¡¯t help but notice how his new companion¡¯s stride remained perfectly measured, as if the overwhelming magic of Conflux was nothing more than a gentle breeze.


    Someone quickly directed them to a courtyard of smooth stone where other students waited, their expressions a mirror of Kor¡¯s own as they gawked at the magical city of Conflux. Taking their positions with the rest, Kor had a better chance to observe their surroundings.


    Like an onion peeling back its layers, each moment revealed new wonders. Even here by the portal, he could see countless uses of mana that would have practically beggared any but the richest families back home. Enchantments illuminated the buildings, and the streets pulsed with ethereal light. The people, though, were as unfamiliar as the magic itself.


    Men and women of every creed and colour moved through the streets. He¡¯d understood abstractly that Conflux was home to wizards from seven different planets, but seeing it for himself was something else entirely. Visitors between worlds weren¡¯t exactly common, especially back home in Lexica. He¡¯d seen a few Solarians from time to time, their two worlds often engaging in trade. But their fair-featured faces were a stark contrast to the kaleidoscope of peoples on display here.


    More and more students continued to pour through the portal as Marcus spoke. ¡°Did you know that the portal from Conflux only opens to our planet once a week, Kor, and that only those gifted with high levels of mana such as ourselves are even permitted entry?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d heard something about that,¡± Kor said as Marcus carried on, shaking his head.


    ¡°Even my father could not secure passage here. Just think of all the valuable connections we¡¯ll be able to make.¡± Marcus¡¯s eyes seemed to glow with passion as he observed the surroundings with a predatory eagerness.


    A few minutes passed as the remaining Lexican students passed through the portal until they were all rounded up and escorted further into the city, passing countless casual displays of magic that left the mind boggling. As they followed the road, Kor realised that he¡¯d missed perhaps the two most obvious sights.


    The crystal spire¡ªthe Nexus, as he heard another student call it¡ªreached up from the centre of the city, easily several hundred feet tall. Its brilliant red surface dominated the skyline, seeming to pulse with an inner light that matched the rhythm of the city¡¯s magical heartbeat. Supposedly, it changed colour on a regular basis.


    Beyond the spire that towered over the city, and past the magical barrier that surrounded it, hung two blazing stars. One burned much brighter than the other, both completely unlike the sun back home. Their combined light cast strange, shifting shadows that danced across the iridescent buildings.


    Kor followed along, trying not to gawk too obviously at the Nexus. Surprisingly, the past week had given him enough time to come to terms with his fresh path. Kor adjusted his glasses, his mind replaying the moment the testing crystal flared violet. He¡¯d always believed his path lay in mathematics. Numbers were safe, reliable. Magic, on the other hand¡ªmagic defied rules. Yet, as he gazed at Conflux¡¯s living skyline, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this chaos had been waiting for him all along.


    Even if he couldn¡¯t pursue the calling he¡¯d chosen, he wasn¡¯t about to give this new endeavour anything less than his best. His parents had taught him better than that. Still, the spire¡¯s red glow reminded him of the testing crystal that had changed his life, wondering if perhaps there was some connection between the two.


    A tall, severe-looking woman with silver-streaked hair turned to the group. ¡°Inside, all of you,¡± her voice carrying over the murmur of students. ¡°Take your seats quickly and quietly.¡± The mass of students filtered through the entrance, a collective surge of nervous energy.


    He¡¯d barely got a grip on the sensory overload as they headed inside a large auditorium. The ceiling soared impossibly high above them, enchanted to display a brilliant starry sky that seemed more real than any planetarium Kor had ever visited. Row upon row of seats stretched out before them. More than enough to house their number several times over.


    Marcus led the two of them down to the front-row, as Kor relieved himself of his heavy pack. His mother certainly hadn¡¯t left anything unpacked.


    The marble amphitheatre¡¯s last empty seats filled as a figure ascended the crystalline steps to the stage. His pitch-black robes caught the light from floating orbs overhead, revealing intricate purple swirls that writhed like living things across the fabric. Kor¡¯s eyes watered as he tried to track their movement, and he found himself grateful for his front-row seat¡ªeven if it meant being closer to whatever powers this man commanded.


    ¡°First Magus.¡± The title passed through the crowd reverently, the murmur spreading from row to row like a wave as the man approached a podium carved from a single piece of opalescent stone. Kor was sure he¡¯d heard the title before, but in matters of magic, he was woefully ill-informed.


    ¡°Citizens of Lexica, I bid you welcome to Conflux.¡± The First Magus¡¯s voice resonated with a warmth that filled the amphitheatre, banishing whispers into silence. ¡°You stand on the precipice of a journey that few will ever know¡ªa path paved with promise and peril alike.¡±


    ¡°Each of you has been chosen because you possess something extraordinary. Mana courses through your veins, a gift and a burden in equal measure. You are here to harness it, to turn potential into power. But let me be clear: your path will not be easy.¡±


    The room seemed to hold its breath as the Magus raised one hand, and the enchanted ceiling above shifted. Stars dimmed, their light swallowed by a spreading darkness. From its depths emerged writhing tendrils of flame, their black and violet hues flickering with an otherworldly hunger.


    ¡°This is the Void,¡± he began, his voice heavy with unyielding authority. ¡°An ancient enigma that defies understanding, an unmaking of reality itself. It is hungry. And as the balance of magic grows fragile, it has begun to encroach on our worlds.¡±


    The illusion shifted, and within the darkness came shapes¡ªmonstrous, skittering forms with too many eyes and not enough faces. They emerged like nightmares from the ether, their movements deliberate, their gaze piercing. The creatures roiled and clawed, drawn toward a bright core of shimmering mana. The students tensed as the beasts lunged, only to recoil as the light flared brighter, repelling them in a blaze of brilliance.


    ¡°Voidlings,¡± the Magus continued, his gaze unyielding. ¡°Predators drawn to the mana-rich worlds of the Voidflame Edict. They seek to consume what we create, to unmake what we build. And yet, like moths to a flame, their hunger is their undoing. Magic repels them just as surely as it attracts them. This is why you have been chosen. Because your magic is not only a beacon¡ªit is a weapon.¡±


    The crowd stirred uneasily. A faint murmur rippled through the students. Kor felt his stomach churn as the images loomed above, and to his left, a girl muttered a silent prayer. Marcus, by contrast, leaned forward, his blue eyes gleaming. ¡°Now this,¡± he whispered, ¡°is getting interesting.¡±


    The First Magus¡¯s voice cut through the unrest like a blade. ¡°It is why Conflux exists. The Voidflame Edict binds the seven great worlds together, compelling us to pool our knowledge and strength. Here, you will become the protectors of tomorrow¡ªyou, the guardians of magic, the architects of a future free from this shadow.¡±


    His gaze swept the crowd. ¡°Yes, you are at a disadvantage. As Lexicans, your mastery of mana is nascent compared to your peers from mana-rich worlds. But do not mistake this for weakness. Yours is a mind sharpened by logic, innovation, and resolve. These are your tools. Wield them wisely, and you may yet defy even the Void.¡±


    The illusory flames and Voidlings above dimmed as the Magus spread his arms wide. ¡°Your task is monumental. But so is your potential. Prove to us, to yourselves, that you are worthy of this mantle. The future of seven worlds may one day rest on your shoulders. Study hard. Persevere.¡±


    The image behind the First Magus winked out as he gestured to another man who¡¯d walked on stage. ¡°Dean Velleth will conclude your introductions to Conflux. I leave you now in his care¡ªMay your mana run true.¡± He intoned before departing, the terrible images of Voidling invaders fading into nothingness as he stepped away.


    A bald man in an austere robe stepped up to the podium as Marcus turned to Kor, flashing a cocky grin. ¡°It seems we¡¯ve got our work cut out for us, doesn¡¯t it, Kor?¡±


    Kor nodded mutely, still grappling with the weight of the Magus¡¯s words. Days ago, he¡¯d been worried about mathematical problems. Now, the fate of seven worlds rested, however distantly, on his shoulders.

 Chapter 3.

    Dean Velleth¡¯s voice cracked through the air, cutting sharply against the First Magus¡¯s earlier, smooth words¡ªa whip across their already frayed nerves. ¡°First years of Lexica, you¡¯ve little time to waste on idle small talk.¡± His tone carried the authority of a parade ground instructor, amplified by the vastness of the chamber as it echoed back on itself.


    ¡°You are the last students to arrive, and the academic year begins tomorrow. To stay here, you must earn three hundred credits in your first year. Failure to do so will result in compulsory military service for no less than fifteen years.¡±


    A ripple of murmurs swept through the students like a gust of wind, but the dean¡¯s next words slammed into them, quelling every voice. ¡°You are all required to attend the three mandatory courses. These each offer up to 100 credits each for a perfect grade. The end-of-year tournament may award another 100, but only to those who prove themselves worthy.¡±


    The air seemed to tighten as his piercing gaze swept across them, daring anyone to question him. ¡°In two weeks, you will submit your choices for elective courses to myself or a member of staff. Each elective also offers up to 100 credits. You,¡±¡ªhis gaze lingered on the nearest students with something approaching disdain¡ª ¡°will need to enrol in several to scrape together enough to pass.¡±


    He raised a hand sharply, cutting off the few brave enough to even think of speaking. ¡°You¡¯ll have time to ask questions later, Lexicans,¡± he said, spitting the title like a curse. His lips twisted as though the word itself offended him. ¡°For now, pay attention as your living quarters are assigned.¡±


    ¡®Divide me sideways,¡¯ Kor thought to himself as dean Velleth began calling out student names and room designations. The man wasn¡¯t doing much to hide his dislike of them. They¡¯d only just arrived and already he was tasking them with choosing electives. He¡¯d never even cast a spell, and the principle of deciding his future on such paltry information irked him. To make the most of this, he¡¯d have to do his own research.


    A short while later, they were being led to their accommodations by the dean¡¯s assistants. Kor¡¯s dorm was far from Marcus¡¯s, situated in block N. His only acquaintance gave him a reassuring smile as they parted ways. ¡°We¡¯ll meet up again later, Kor!¡± Marcus was already turning his charm toward a new group of students.


    Near to the amphitheatre stood the residential dormitories, separated into fourteen letters from A to N, with twenty-five rooms each. He¡¯d already done the math¡ªwith one hundred candidates from each world, fourteen dorms, and only twenty-five rooms each. That meant he¡¯d be sharing with another student.


    His heart began pounding in earnest now as he navigated the halls of N dormitory, looking for his room, 23. The thought of sharing a room with a girl flustered him, but he reassured himself that sixteen-year-old boys and girls wouldn¡¯t be paired together.


    He spotted a few students milling in the hallway, all male teenagers like himself, dressed in exotic clothing that failed to snatch his attention from his impending worries. He reached the end of the hallway, pausing outside his door as he sucked in a deep breath.


    N 23, the last prime of the twenty-five. He smiled as he brought his student badge up to open the door, which swung open as a small, imbued chime rang.


    Stepping inside, the smell of earthy soil enveloped him. He blinked, momentarily stunned by the sight before him. The shared space was a chaotic tapestry of life¡ªclothes strewn haphazardly across the floor and countless pots of plants creating a jungle-like atmosphere.


    His eyes travelled up from knee-high ferns to climbing vines that spiralled up the walls, finally settling on what appeared to be some kind of crystal palm tree that dominated the centre of the room. Its translucent leaves nearly brushing the ceiling as they caught and refracted the room¡¯s light.


    His mind drew a blank as he tried to puzzle out what he was seeing. This was supposed to be a dormitory, right? How had they even got such a large tree indoors?


    Motion drew his attention as a figure rose from the bed on his left¡ªa boy about his age but of average height, with weathered hands and dirt under his fingernails. The countless plants and his earth-toned clothing marked him unmistakably as being from Verdana, one of the seven worlds known for its connection to nature.


    ¡°Uh, hi?¡± ventured Kor, adjusting his glasses nervously.


    ¡°Hi,¡± said the boy. ¡°I¡¯m Talen. Who are you?¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Kor.¡± He fidgeted with the strap of his backpack.


    ¡°Lexican?¡±


    ¡°Yes, is that a problem?¡±


    ¡°Not so long as you like plants,¡± the boy flashed him a cheeky grin.


    ¡°I can¡¯t say that I know too much about them, but they certainly seem... nice?¡± Kor volunteered diplomatically, still trying to process the indoor forest he¡¯d walked into.


    Talen beamed. ¡°Life needs life,¡± Talen gestured to the greenery. ¡°A space without plants? Might as well be a tomb.¡±


    Kor nodded, searching for something to say. ¡°I really like your, um, tree.¡± He gestured to the crystal palm dominating the centre of their room.


    ¡°He¡¯s a beauty, isn¡¯t he? Amazingly versatile¡ªthey can grow anywhere there¡¯s mana, and here on Conflux that¡¯s everywhere.¡±


    Kor headed over to his own side of the room, taking in the small desk and chair that abutted one end, with a bed along the wall beside it and a simple chest at its foot. He pulled his pack off, back aching fiercely as he placed it beside the bed. He¡¯d never done this much walking or carrying heavy things¡ªwell, ever. A groan escaped his lips as he sank into the mattress, his body protesting as the stresses of the day washed over him.


    ¡°If you need to open your storage chest, just use your student badge. It¡¯ll lock automatically when you close it,¡± Talen offered.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Kor looked over as the boy leaned down by the crystal palm¡¯s large pot, gathering mana as he murmured to himself.


    Flat on his back, Kor stared at the ceiling, regret gnawing at him. He should have studied, prepared¡ªanything. It was clear he and the other Lexicans were starting with a large handicap. But he¡¯d spent the last week in stunned denial, and now the weight of Conflux pressed down on him¡ªliterally and figuratively.


    The only book his parents owned on magic had been of little help, offering a high-level, abstract overview instead of the practical guidance he needed. It had, however, taught him a few things. Such as the various magical archetypes that were recognised: Environmental, Manifestation, Support, Subtle and Direct. These distinctions mostly seemed relevant to combat, but were still useful to know.


    Yet the book had offered no guidance on how to wield his mana.


    Closing his eyes, he focused on the ambient energy around him, faint currents swirling with the life Talen¡¯s plants exuded. But that wasn¡¯t what interested him. If he wanted to cast spells, he had to tap into his own mana pool.


    Turning inward, he reached for the reservoir within himself, just as the officials at his testing had described. His mana was plentiful¡ªexceedingly so for a Lexican. And when he reached for it, it sprang to attention, vivid and startlingly aware.


    It wasn¡¯t like the natural force he¡¯d imagined. It was alive.


    A surge of curiosity and expectation filled him, though he wasn¡¯t sure if the emotion belonged to him, or his mana. The sensation was intoxicating. Since his arrival in Conflux, something inside him had changed, and now it felt as if he¡¯d opened the floodgates. He barely noticed the growing intensity of the flows spiralling through the room until Talen¡¯s voice snapped him back to reality.


    ¡°Hey, Kor. Mind keeping a lid on your mana? You¡¯re disturbing my plants.¡±


    Kor¡¯s eyes flew open, the room¡¯s swirling currents of energy glaringly obvious. ¡°Sorry! I, uh, haven¡¯t practised much before¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Talen said with a shrug, though his gaze lingered on Kor, curious. ¡°But if you¡¯ve got to practise, try to keep it under control. Didn¡¯t your teachers back home show you the basics of mana regulation?¡±


    Kor flushed. ¡°No. I haven¡¯t even had a lesson on using my mana yet.¡±


    Talen raised an eyebrow before shaking his head. ¡°Might want to hold off experimenting on your own until you¡¯ve learned the fundamentals. Don¡¯t want you blowing us all up.¡±


    Kor blanched. ¡°Wait¡ªis that possible?¡±


    ¡°Nah, just messing with you.¡± Talen grinned, but his expression sobered. ¡°Still, you could end up in a bad way if you¡¯re not careful. Mana¡¯s powerful, but it¡¯s not usually forgiving.¡±


    Kor exhaled, relief mingling with apprehension. ¡°Thanks for the warning.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it,¡± Talen replied, already turning his attention back to the crystal palm.


    Kor settled back into his bed, the lingering hum of mana in the room prickling at his senses. If he was going to do this, he needed to do it right. The dean¡¯s assistants had been helpful enough to provide a booklet of information. He shifted onto his side, then reached for his backpack.


    The introduction outlined three mandatory classes for all students. Fundamentals of Mana, Practical Spellcraft, and Practical Combat. With the end-of-year tournament factored in, it seemed as if Conflux Academy placed a large emphasis on combat.


    Kor sighed as he continued to leaf through the welcome materials. He¡¯d never been the athletic type, and with his short, portly body, he doubted that he¡¯d do well in combat class. Studying magic as soon as possible seemed the most logical path forward.


    He flicked through the booklet, scanning through the headlines of various elective classes that he still did not understand. Magical Engineering, The Healing Arts, Magical Suppression, Conjuration and You, Connection Weaving, Magical Beast Handling, Environmental Magic, Mana Flows and Patterns¡ªthe list seemed endless.


    Although the material was tailored to students already familiar with magic, something caught his eye. Conflux¡¯s library! Now that¡¯s somewhere he¡¯d be comfortable. The booklet didn¡¯t have any solid leads for him before classes started tomorrow, but perhaps this library called Ether¡¯s Archive might have some answers he needed.


    But first he ought to get his things packed away, and as his stomach let out a mighty grumble¡ªearning an amused glance from Talen¡ªhe added a visit to the canteen to the top of his list. No sense getting started on an empty stomach, he thought to himself as he rolled off the bed. If he was going to catch up to the others, his body was going to need fuel, and lots of it.

 Chapter 4.

    Following the introduction booklet¡¯s reference map, Kor made his way through the streets of Conflux. Everywhere he looked were new students, their badges attached to an eclectic mix of apparel. Their motley array of clothing stood in stark contrast to the older students, who wore standardised robes¡ªwhite with silver trim for second years and gold for the thirds. They moved with the easy confidence of those who belonged. Kor wondered if perhaps the first years might receive similar clothing once classes started. Maybe robes with bronze trim?


    ¡°Hey! Watch where you¡¯re going, firster!¡± A sharp voice cut through his musings. An older girl in silver-trimmed robes glowered at him from the other side of the path, her hands planted on her hips. Mana swirled around her dangerously as a ball of metal coalesced into orbit around her waist.


    ¡°S-sorry,¡± Kor ducked his head in alarm, beating a hasty retreat. Was bullying first years a common pass time? He certainly hoped not as he hurried along the path to the food hall, adjusting his glasses nervously. He wanted to avoid provoking anyone, and judging by what he¡¯d read in the booklet, student duels were both commonplace and encouraged by the academy.


    The idea of using magic to defend himself laughable, considering he¡¯d never even cast a spell. If he applied himself, he might bridge the gap; but it wasn¡¯t his nature to get into unnecessary fights.


    The food hall was massive, its interior space larger than any cafeteria Kor had ever seen. Heading inside the bustling building, Kor found countless rows of tables and benches packed with students. Around the edges were smaller, more intimate seating arrangements. The ceiling soared high overhead, magical lights floating like stars against the arched stonework.


    The wall of noise crashed over him, each sound amplifying the strange thrum of mana in his veins until it felt like his skull might split. Students talking and laughing, the clatter of plates and cutlery and more magic being used than he could ever hope to identify. Different languages and accents mingled in the air as students from all seven worlds congregated. The queue for food snaked its way along one wall, past gleaming display cases.


    Kor pressed two fingers against his temple, trying to push aside the pounding in his head. The cacophony of sounds seemed to pulse in time with the mana surging through him. He joined the line, his stomach rumbling as an unfamiliar but enticing sweet aroma wafted past. Breakfast felt like a lifetime ago, his sense of time feeling disconnected from the local time zone. Shifting to a planet with two blazing suns sitting high in the sky was likely to do that, he guessed.


    As he drew closer to the kitchen staff, he found himself faced with an array of dishes he couldn¡¯t hope to identify. Crystalline fruits that pulsed with inner light sat beside what appeared to be floating puddings. Strange, spiral-shaped meats gave off multi-coloured steam, while iridescent vegetables arranged themselves into patterns when anyone looked at them.


    ¡°My parents have been pressing me to become a transmuter,¡± the boy in front of him was saying to his companion.


    ¡°I know how you feel,¡± his friend sighed. ¡°Mine want me to focus on environmental magic when I haven¡¯t even discovered my affinity...¡±


    The archetypes? He¡¯d read a little about that, but didn¡¯t have any frame of reference as to what it meant. Kor would have kept listening, but soon reached the front of the queue, picking up a tray and searching for any sign of the price.


    ¡°What¡¯ll it be then?¡± A robust woman in a pristine white apron prompted him, her accent marking her as a non-Lexican. Instead of choosing a dish that might have hidden dangers, Kor opted for a familiar dish.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have the sausage and mash,¡± he said, picking the most normal dish, although even the gravy looked to shimmer in the magical light. ¡°Um, how much?¡±


    The woman was already loading his plate. ¡°Part of your attendance, dear. Eat up¡ªyou¡¯ll need your strength for classes tomorrow.¡±


    At least that was one less thing to worry about, Kor thought as he accepted the loaded plate. His appetite for food certainly hadn¡¯t dimmed in this new environment, though he couldn¡¯t help but notice how the gravy started to change colour as he carried his tray away in search of an empty seat.


    The outer tables sat mostly empty, but just as Kor was taking a seat, Marcus spoke. ¡°Over here, Kor! Those seats are reserved for staff.¡±


    Relief flooded through him as he spotted Marcus¡¯s waving, though it dampened when he noticed the two young men flanking his new friend. Both had the same sharp features and athletic builds, their matching bright blue eyes marking them as Solarians. Kor adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses as he made his way over.


    ¡°Join us,¡± Marcus gestured to the empty seat across from him. ¡°Let me introduce you¡ªthis is Kelleth, my roommate,¡± he gestured towards the taller of the two brothers, ¡°and his twin, Teneth.¡±


    The brothers inclined their heads, their movements carrying that fluid grace that bespoke their confidence. He mumbled a greeting as he settled his tray, trying not to slouch under their appraising gazes.


    ¡°We were just discussing electives,¡± Marcus said, oblivious to the tension. ¡°We were all thinking of taking Advanced Combat Studies, given how much emphasis the academy places on fighting. A good idea, don¡¯t you think, Kor?¡±


    Kor nudged his food around the plate. ¡°That seems prudent, but...¡± he hesitated, aware of the brothers¡¯ attention. ¡°I¡¯ve never even cast a spell, let alone fought somebody.¡±


    The three boys froze mid-bite, forks paused in midair. Teneth let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head like he¡¯d just heard a bad joke. ¡°You¡¯ve never cast a spell?¡± he said, his voice dripping with disbelief.


    Marcus blinked, then plastered on his usual grin. ¡°That¡¯s fine, Kor,¡± he said, waving dismissively, as though erasing Teneth¡¯s words from the air. ¡°You seem like a scholarly type, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll pick it up in no time. Most of the students here don¡¯t seem that capable to me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, Marcus,¡± Teneth said, though his eyes lingered on Kor with barely veiled condescension. ¡°Despite their capacity for mana, most here are simply a waste of space.¡±


    His brother nodded along, and Kor felt that his brother was aiming the comments at him. His shoulders hunched as he took another bite of his meal, the gravy¡¯s shifting colours losing their lustre.


    Marcus either didn¡¯t notice or ignored the undertone. ¡°You¡¯ll want to get up to speed as soon as possible,¡± Marcus said, his tone light but insistent. ¡°I need to build a firm base of support here, especially if I¡¯m going to be taking one of the top spots.¡±


    ¡°Top spots?¡± Kor echoed, stalling, as his fork hovered over the plate. ¡°That sounds... ambitious.¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± Marcus leaned in, his grin broad. ¡°This place runs on reputation. And reputation starts with connections. So, I can count on you to join us in Advanced Combat Studies, right?¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Kor hesitated, the weight of three gazes pinning him down. He didn¡¯t want to disappoint Marcus, but the idea of combat training made his chest tighten. ¡°I¡ªuh¡ª¡± He glanced at the brothers, whose smirks were sharp enough to cut. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll think about it.¡±


    ¡°Excellent!¡± Marcus beamed, launching into a discussion about different combat styles, while the brothers interjected with comments about their own extensive training.


    Kor focused on his food, his appetite diminishing as he wondered if he hadn¡¯t just made a terrible mistake. He¡¯d always found it difficult making friends and didn¡¯t want to let Marcus down, but signing up for Advanced Combat Studies seemed like trying to run before you could walk.


    He tucked into the food, savouring the familiar flavour of pork, even taking a liking to the fruity gravy that seemed to change it¡¯s taste to match the colour.


    Thankfully, the other boys didn¡¯t linger long, their own meals long since finished. Marcus rushed them out, ¡°We¡¯ve got a lot to do and not much time!¡± even though they¡¯d just finished their meal. Barely a day in, and already the pressure was building. He needed to get a head-start on his studies, and the library ought to be just the place to start.


    Heading outside, he navigated between the other students, giving any silver or gold-trimmed robes a wide berth as he sought the building listed as Ether¡¯s Archive. Hopefully, his years of studying advanced mathematics would give him some kind of edge.


    As Kor followed the signs, he noticed the campus appeared to be a small part of Conflux. Everyone he¡¯d seen was a student or a member of the faculty. He was so caught up in the countless foreign sights¡ªsuch as a small bird whose feathers blazed in magical fire perched on a second year¡¯s shoulder¡ªthat he nearly missed the unassuming library.


    Unlike most buildings that glowed with magic, the library itself was made of a strange dark wood, standing as one of the smallest buildings he¡¯d seen. ¡®Is this it?¡¯ his shoulders slumped as he headed over, spotting only a single third-year student entering the building.


    He¡¯d expected more from Conflux. Their history predated most nations¡ªit seemed strange that they wouldn¡¯t value knowledge more. Even the library at his parents¡¯ university dwarfed this one.


    Reaching the double doors that opened at his approach, he stepped inside. The distinct smell of parchment, leather bindings, and ink washed over him, underlaid with something else¡ªan electric tang that made his skin tingle, like the air before a storm but somehow... welcoming.


    His disappointment evaporated as his eyes widened, taking in the impossible space before him. In this case, the cover was a poor representation of the book¡¯s content. The interior of the library expanded beyond reason; there was no way all of this should fit inside the modest building he¡¯d stepped into. The structure stretched beyond comprehension, shelves towering upward until they vanished into shadows far above, extending further than his eyes could follow in every direction.


    The air buzzed with welcome, and he felt a distinct sense of being greeted. Without thinking, he bobbed his head, glasses slipping down his nose at the motion. The peace and quiet was a refreshing change for the bustling campus, all sound seemingly swallowed by the vast hall. Nobody paid him any attention as he stood gawking at the endless rows of knowledge stretching out before him.


    Numerous advanced students sat quietly at wooden tables, their heads bent over thick volumes, fingers tracing lines of text or carefully turning pages. Some were hunched intently over open books, others had multiple texts spread before them like scholarly fortresses.


    To avoid bothering anyone, Kor moved towards the massive reception desk, unsure of his first step. The sheer number of books overwhelmed him; he realised he could never read them all, and was certain he¡¯d only glimpsed a tiny part of this place¡¯s vast collection. His fingers itched to explore the shelves, but for once in his life, even he felt intimidated by the sheer volume of knowledge presented to him.


    A cheerful second-year girl at the desk greeted him with a bright smile. ¡°How can I help you?¡±


    Before he could even stammer out a response, she continued, her eyes lighting up. ¡°Oooh, you¡¯re a Lexican, aren¡¯t you! You must be very confident, being the first of the newest batch to visit Ether¡¯s Archive.


    ¡°Uh, yes, I¡¯m a Lexican¡ª¡± Kor began, but she cut him off.


    ¡°I knew it!¡± She beamed at him. ¡°Just remember, don¡¯t go casting any spells in the stacks. Keep your voice down and be respectful of Ether at all times.¡±


    ¡°Ether?¡± Kor fiddled with his wire-rimmed glasses.


    She bobbed her head. ¡°That¡¯s the Archive¡¯s name, silly. Just make sure you don¡¯t do anything to upset him. Even the First Magus himself remains on his best behaviour here.¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°Not that you were planning on doing anything stupid, were you?¡±


    ¡°No, no,¡± he assured her. Her expression brightened as something seemed to occur to her.


    ¡°What was it you wanted help with, anyway?¡±


    ¡°I, uh, just wanted to make sure I¡¯m allowed to check out books.¡± Kor fought the urge to hunch his shoulders under her gaze.


    ¡°Of course,¡± she said. ¡°Ether keeps track of things on his own and won¡¯t let you borrow any more than he feels is suitable. Treat the books with proper respect. A good number of firsters have been permanently barred from his archives, a surefire way to fail out of the academy.


    He nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome!¡± She said, returning to her book.


    He¡¯d planned on asking more questions, but not wanting to push his luck, he made his way toward the stacks. Looking at the endless rows of books arrayed before him, Kor shook his head. He ought to have looked for an index or catalogue to help him navigate the extensive collection. The very thought of going back to admit his ignorance made his cheeks burn.


    Looking around, he noticed a few other students coming and going, all wearing silver or gold-trimmed robes as he headed toward the primary avenue. Gazing up at the towering shelves, he sighed, searching for a catalogue or a guide of some kind.


    He felt a subtle tug of mana guiding him onward, wondering if it was Ether¡¯s way of saying hello. As a magical library, perhaps it would direct him to the perfect book. Kor reached the shelves, his eyes scanning over the spines with a practised eye¡ªhe¡¯d spent more hours poring over books than was reasonable for a sixteen-year-old boy.


    The titles here were focused on magical botany, everything from ¡°The History of the Acorn¡± to ¡°Soil Solutions for Success.¡± Looking up and down, everything was plant-related; but he felt the tugging sensation guiding him deeper into the library, past the shelves at the front.


    ¡®If I¡¯m going to be some sort of wizard, I need to start acting like one, don¡¯t I?¡¯ he thought, trying to convince himself.


    He¡¯d be searching these books until the end of time if he tried doing it manually. No, he needed a way to find a book on the basics of mana before moving on to anything more complicated.


    A thought occurred to him as he remembered the librarian¡¯s words. ¡°Hello Ether,¡± he whispered. ¡°I¡¯m new to your archive and was wondering if you could help me locate a book about the fundamentals of mana?¡±


    He waited for a moment, hoping for some kind of response. But nothing happened. Kor looked around in embarrassment, grateful that no one had seen that. He moved to another shelf of books when something brushed against his mind¡ªa sensation somewhere between recognition and beckoning.


    Excitement coursed through him. Ether had heard his plea, after all. Even without having studied anything magical in his life, the pull he was getting was unmistakable as he walked further along the primary avenue of books, his glasses reflecting the soft magical lighting that emanated from nowhere and everywhere at once.


    Wherever he was being led was quite a distance away. He passed countless shelves of books, and several students browsing the stacks. He wondered to himself why they didn¡¯t keep the books for beginners closer to the front. The further he travelled, the more active the library became¡ªbooks rearranging themselves of their own volition, pulling free of the shelves to seek homes elsewhere as they floated high above his head like a migration of leather-bound birds.


    The guiding sensation soon pulled him aside, directing him into the space between two imposing shelves. The lighting grew dimmer as he stepped from the path, and a creeping sense of something ineffable tingled up his spine. ¡®Perhaps this isn¡¯t the best idea,¡¯ he thought to himself, coming to a stop several paces later. The path between the shelves ahead looked darker than he thought comfortable.


    Turning around, he froze. The path he¡¯d just stepped from was gone, replaced by an unbroken wall of bookshelves. A shiver traced his spine as he stared at the seamless rows, the spines of the books shifting subtly, as if breathing. The air thickened, carrying the scent of aged parchment and something darker, like charred wood.


    ¡°Hello?¡± he whispered, his voice swallowed by the oppressive silence. His chest tightened as the hairs on his arms stood on end. Whatever this was, it wasn¡¯t normal¡ªnot even for a magical library.


    Looking around in near panic, he realised there was only one path forward; everywhere else had transformed into towering walls of bookshelves. There was a unique quality to the air, aged and stagnant, pulsing with a power that made his nerves crawl with an icy dread.


    His heart hammered against his ribs as he recalled the librarian¡¯s warning about showing proper respect. Had he somehow offended Ether? Or was this how the Archive guided its visitors? Either way, this didn¡¯t feel like a normal library visit.

 Chapter 5.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ether,¡± the words slipped out, hanging like dust motes in stillness. The silence pressed in, heavier than the air in the stacks. Small and insignificant, he stood beneath the towering bookshelves. Was it anger he sensed from the archive, or indifference? Awaiting forgiveness, his gaze darted around nervously, but the archive offered no response.


    Taking a deep breath, he began counting primes to steady himself¡ªa habit he¡¯d formed during exams. ¡°2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13...¡± The familiar numbers calmed his racing heart.


    As if summoned by his recitation, the odd presence reappeared, grazing his thoughts with something akin to... approval? The sensation beckoned him forward, and a faint light appeared in the gloom ahead. In the quiet stacks, even the rustling of his robes seemed magnified as he stepped forth. He followed the guidance, books towering overhead as every sense felt heightened by the strange atmosphere.


    He startled when a small desk materialised before him, an open book resting upon its surface. A soft glow lit two paths that continued onward, one to the left of the desk, one to the right. However, the guiding presence had withdrawn, leaving him alone to ponder the tome.


    Kor frowned as he stepped up to read the single line of text: ¡°I am a three-digit number. My second digit is 4 times bigger than the third digit. My first digit is 3 less than my second digit. What number am I?¡±


    He shook his head, almost laughing at the simplicity. ¡°Easy, 141.¡± The book vanished the moment he spoke, causing him to shuffle back a step in surprise. It seemed as if Ether was testing him, and if all the challenges were going to be this easy, he had nothing to worry about.


    He looked between the two exits, but nothing had changed. ¡°I solved the problem, didn¡¯t I? Kind of expected a bit of guidance after that,¡± he chuckled to himself, the sound dry and uncertain, as he scanned the room, waiting for something to happen.


    The magical presence appeared happy to allow him to decide for himself. I don¡¯t think the question relates to this choice. There¡¯s nothing about the number 141 that seems to show left or right. He stood there for several minutes, working through various mathematical properties, trying to divine a hidden meaning that might inform his decision.


    ¡°I guess it¡¯s a gut call then?¡± he said aloud, still feeling foolish for talking to empty air. ¡°I don¡¯t feel like I can decide the right answer based on the math, so I¡¯ll go left.¡± Since the archive was communicating with him, it seemed logical to assume it understood his words.


    He stepped into the walkway between the shelves, a faint magical glow barely illuminating the narrow path. Barely a dozen steps later, and he found another alcove with an identical setup to the last. As he walked over to the new book, he couldn¡¯t help wondering if he¡¯d chosen correctly, and what might happen if he hadn¡¯t.


    ¡°If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?¡± The words stirred something deep, pulling an answer from him before he could stop it.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to be able to talk to girls.¡±


    The book vanished instantly. Kor froze, heat rushing to his face. ¡®That¡¯s what you pick?¡¯ He cringed, glancing between the paths, as if the shelves themselves were judging him. Of all the things he could have wished for¡ªa sharper mind, a stronger body¡ªwhy that?


    ¡°Uh¡ªwait! Can I change my answer? Maybe something like¡­ being a bit wiser?¡± he blurted.


    The only response was a faint ripple of amusement from the bookcases, like a laugh he couldn¡¯t quite hear.


    ¡°Right. Guess that settles that,¡± he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Still, something about the exchange made him feel a little lighter. Maybe Ether¡¯s Archive wasn¡¯t out to punish him.


    He stepped forward, this time with a flicker of confidence he hadn¡¯t felt before.


    The next question waiting for him in yet another alcove. ¡°If you were a rabbit, would you prefer to sleep in a shoe or in a box?¡±


    Kor blinked at the absurdity of the question. It felt so wildly out of place that he nearly laughed aloud. Was the archive... joking with him? Testing his sense of imagination? He adjusted his glasses and said, ¡°A shoe? It¡¯s got to be warmer than a box.¡±


    The book vanished immediately, and the glow of the path to his right intensified. ¡°Well, at least that was straightforward,¡± he said, though he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the archive had just raised an eyebrow at him. If it had eyebrows.


    Growing accustomed to the process, Kor pressed onward to find another book awaiting him.


    ¡°Is following the rules more important than doing what¡¯s right?¡±


    This time, the question hit harder. Kor frowned, his thoughts swirling as he pushed his glasses up his nose in a gesture of reflexive focus. Rules were structures, frameworks designed to bring order and fairness. But they weren¡¯t infallible. History was littered with examples of unjust laws and corrupt systems that had to be challenged. Yet without rules, society would descend into chaos, wouldn¡¯t it?


    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple,¡± he said, his brow furrowing further. He could feel the weight of Ether¡¯s attention pressing down on him, expectant and patient.


    Finally, he said, ¡°It depends.¡± The moment the words left his lips, the book dissolved into nothingness, and the room darkened slightly. A chill brushed against him, faint but unmistakable. It wasn¡¯t outright hostility, but there was a sense of disappointment, like a teacher watching a student give up too soon.


    Kor winced, shifting uncomfortably under the archive¡¯s silent judgement. ¡°What? It¡¯s not a black-and-white question,¡± he argued aloud, his voice tinged with defensiveness. But the room remained still, offering no rebuttal¡ªjust that lingering, faint disapproval that made his stomach twist.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The sensation lingered as he stood there, questioning himself. Was it the answer Ether had disapproved of, or the fact that he hadn¡¯t committed to one at all?


    He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°Guess I have to think about that one,¡± he muttered. Shaking it off, he moved toward the path on the left, determined not to let his faltering resolve show. As he stepped forward, the quiet around him felt heavier, as though the Archive was still deciding whether he was worth the effort.


    Something shifted. Mana rippled through the air, sharp as broken glass, and the silence thickened like a held breath. The stacks of books fractured and dissolved until an open sky stretched above him. Kor stood gripping a spear, its weight unfamiliar yet absolute. Beneath him, an unconscious teenager lay sprawled, barely older than himself. The rough stone of the circular arena pressed against his boots. His mind reeled¡ªwas this even real? The spear trembled in his sweating grip, solid and undeniably real.


    His attention snapped to a gate lifting on the opposite wall, and a wave of fear paralysed him as a massive lion emerged. Its mane was thick and dark, rippling like smoke as it padded forward with deadly grace. Its teeth were larger than his hands, muscles rippling beneath its tawny coat with each stride.


    Perhaps the Ether wasn¡¯t so harmless after all.


    Kor¡¯s heart hammered against his ribs as he slowly backed away, trying not to draw attention to himself, but the creature continued its approach. With growing horror, he realised the unconscious boy was still helpless on the ground, and it wouldn¡¯t take long for the lion to reach him.


    His mind raced as he weighed his options. ¡®This is probably just a test,¡¯ he reasoned. ¡®I doubt the library wants to kill me,¡¯¡ªthough he wasn¡¯t as sure about that as he wanted to be. ¡®If I leave the boy, that might mark me as a coward, but if I attack the lion, that¡¯s certain death...¡¯


    The quandary became more pressing as the lion continued to close in, its amber eyes alighting upon the prone boy. Kor quickly glanced around, looking for anything he could use to his advantage. He needed a better solution than fight or flight, but maybe this was just like the last problem¡ªa third solution would only get him into more trouble.


    With no time to spare, Kor moved. Running over to the nearby pillar, his heart thundering against his chest. ¡°Come get me!¡± he called out, his voice cracking with fear.


    The lion¡¯s eyes snapped to him, and within a heartbeat, it charged. He darted around the wide pillar, turning to bury his spear in the ground to meet the lion¡¯s charge. He¡¯d seen such tactics in history books before, but as his sweat-slick hands struggled to hold the weapon steady, he strained to listen through the pounding in his ears.


    Had it chosen to go for the boy instead? A flicker of movement behind him instantly answered his question. He barely turned in time to see the lion leap just before the scene vanished.


    Kor stumbled backward, landing hard against a stack of books that loomed unyielding, their spines as solid as the stone pillar he¡¯d just used for cover. A sharp thud echoed through the silence, and a cascade of pages ruffled in response.


    He winced, rubbing the back of his head, ¡°Great, just what I needed.¡± As he reached for his fallen glasses, a soft, almost musical chuckle seemed to ripple through the air¡ªsubtle yet undeniable. It wasn¡¯t a sound exactly, but a vibration of mirth that made the hairs on his arms rise. Ether was amused.


    ¡°Glad someone¡¯s enjoying this,¡± Kor said under his breath, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Sliding his glasses back on, he pushed himself to his feet and turned to the desk that now stood before him.


    The air shimmered faintly, as if breathing with anticipation, and three books materialised on the desk in a slow, deliberate revelation. Each one exuded an aura so distinct that Kor stopped mid-step, awestruck. They were more than books¡ªthey were embodiments of something vast and ancient, their presence so vivid it felt almost tactile.


    The first book, The Logos, was bound in deep blue leather, its cover embossed with intricate geometric patterns that seemed to shift under his gaze. It hummed softly, a melody of precision and order that resonated with his very core. The air around it felt cool and sharp, like the first breath of winter. Logic, reason, and clarity radiated from its pages, and as he gazed at it, he could almost see equations and diagrams forming in the edges of his vision.


    Next was The Thymos, its vibrant crimson cover pulsating like a heartbeat. Gold veins ran through the leather, glowing faintly with each rhythmic throb. The air surrounding it was charged, electric, and wild. It exuded raw emotion and primal energy, a chaotic dance of passion and power. Kor¡¯s hand twitched involuntarily toward it before he pulled back. Its allure was undeniable, but it unsettled him, as if it might burn him if he reached too close.


    Finally, there was The Eros, a serene green tome with smooth, unadorned covers that shimmered with an almost imperceptible glow. Its aura was gentle yet profound, filling the air with a soothing warmth that eased the tension in his shoulders. It radiated harmony, reflection, and peace. Kor¡¯s breathing slowed as he stood before it, and for a moment, he felt as though the worries and pressures of the world were a distant memory.


    The three books pulsed faintly, as if aware of his presence, and beckoned him closer. He hesitated, his chest tightening as a wave of indecision washed over him. Each book seemed to whisper its promise, not in words but in sensations that tugged at different parts of his soul.


    Was this another test of Ether¡¯s, or perhaps a reward? His decision had already been made the moment he¡¯d felt its nature.


    ¡°The Logos,¡± he murmured, eyes focusing on the intricate patterns. He could almost hear the crisp scratch of a quill on parchment, equations spilling onto a page in perfect order. It felt safe, familiar¡ªhis foundation.


    ¡°There was only ever one choice for me,¡± he said, hand closing around the Logos. As the other books faded, he felt a surge of approval, as though the Archive itself smiled. Unable to resist, he opened it, turning to the first page.


    ¡°The Logos: Of Order and Knowledge...¡± Kor murmured, skimming the opening pages. The text described a reasoning-based approach to magic, its core theme centred on order: using logic and knowledge to shape and understand the very essence of magic. It felt right, like stumbling upon a familiar equation amidst chaos.


    The familiar warmth of Ether¡¯s approval washed over him again, and when he looked up, Kor realised he was back in the Archive¡¯s central aisle, surrounded by its endless rows of books. Nothing about the space seemed physically different, except for the ever-wandering tomes gliding silently between the shelves. Yet the air felt changed¡ªcharged with a welcoming warmth, as though the Archive itself had accepted him.


    He hesitated for a moment, then tentatively cleared his throat. ¡°Um¡­ Ether? Do you happen to know where I might find a book on the basics of mana?¡±


    The ripple of amusement he¡¯d felt earlier returned, faint but unmistakable. This time, it was accompanied by a subtle tug of mana, guiding him further along the central walkway.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said softly, clutching The Logos to his chest. For a moment, he felt the Archive¡¯s presence linger before its attention faded, leaving him with only the quiet hum of the library.


    He followed the flow of mana deeper into the aisle, his gaze flickering down to the book¡¯s deep blue leather. Anticipation bubbled up within him. Whatever secrets The Logos held, he was eager to uncover them¡ªand for the first time since arriving at Conflux, he felt he was exactly where he was meant to be.

 Chapter 6.

    Kor¡¯s footsteps echoed softly through the quiet halls of Ether¡¯s Archive as he emerged from its maze-like corridors. The journey had taken longer than he expected, but he finally held his prize: a worn, leather-bound copy of Basic Mana Control. The book¡¯s cover, scuffed and faded, bore testament to the generations of students who had studied it before him.


    Outside, the twin suns of Conflux had already dipped below the horizon, their absence casting the academy grounds into a twilight lit only by the faint glow of enchanted lanterns. The air had cooled considerably, but the vibrancy of student life persisted. Groups of peers crowded the pathways, their voices carrying through the night as they showed off their spells. Kor tightened his grip on the two books he carried, avoiding the tempting spectacle with deliberate focus. The day had been taxing enough, and he had no desire for further distractions.


    At last, the looming silhouette of his dormitory came into view. Kor¡¯s student badge hummed faintly as he passed it over the brass plate by the door, and with a soft click, the entrance swung open. The familiar, earthy scent of the room greeted him immediately¡ªTalen¡¯s plants. The outlines of their pots and vines sprawled haphazardly across the floor, illuminated faintly by the moonlight filtering through the high window. Across the room, his roommate¡¯s steady, muffled snores suggested Talen was already deep in sleep.


    Kor sighed, suppressing the urge to groan outright. His plans to review the Fundamentals of Mana before morning would have to wait. Carefully, he placed his new books into his backpack, taking care not to disturb Talen. Tomorrow would bring his first class¡ªan opportunity to learn how to use his mana at last.


    As he sank onto the mattress, his thoughts scattered. He needed an alarm-clock. Perhaps his mother had packed one for him. Yet the soft embrace of his pillow, combined with an exhaustion that settled over him like a heavy fog, swept away any desire to check. Sleep claimed him almost instantly, and the world of Conflux faded to a merciful silence.


    Even despite his fatigue, various dreams punctuated Kor¡¯s sleep. Everything started off fine, with gentle hues and indistinct shapes dancing in his mind. But soon, the darkness crept in, coalescing into twisted figures that haunted the edges of his subconscious. Voidlings. They moved like shadows, their forms fluid and monstrous, with glowing eyes that pierced the gloom. They surged toward the academy, blackened claws raking through the air as they closed in.


    Kor¡¯s legs burned as he fled, the landscape shifting unpredictably around him. One moment, he was sprinting across the sunlit gardens of Conflux Academy; the next, he stumbled through a fractured version of Ether¡¯s Archive, where books floated in impossible patterns and whispered ominous secrets. No matter how far or fast he ran, the voidlings loomed ever closer, their guttural cries echoing in his ears. He reached for his mana, for some semblance of control¡ªbut it slipped through his fingers like sand.


    Just as panic tightened its grip on his chest, a familiar voice pierced through the chaos.


    Kor, it said, gentle yet commanding. It¡¯s time to wake up.


    The nightmare flickered, the voidlings¡¯ snarls giving way to a soothing warmth. He knew that voice¡ªit had been his constant companion as a child, a steady presence that filled his youth with warmth and guidance. In recent years, it had faded away, slipping into silence as he¡¯d focused on becoming a serious academic.


    Only at the testing crystal had it reached out to him again, clear and unmistakable. He¡¯d forgotten how comforting its attention could be, how it seemed to understand him in a way nothing else could. Just as he was about to respond to the call, he felt himself shaken awake.


    Kor!


    This time, a sharp shake of his shoulder accompanied the voice. Kor¡¯s eyes snapped open with a gasp. The hazy remnants of the dream dissipated, leaving only the comforting glow of his dormitory. Talen stood over him, smirking.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be late if you don¡¯t get up soon,¡± Talen said, stepping back and crossing his arms. ¡°Classes start in ten minutes, Kor.¡±


    For a moment, Kor simply stared at him, blinking away the grogginess. Then, as understanding dawned, a bolt of energy shot through him. He sat up so fast that his head spun. ¡°Ten minutes?¡± he croaked, scrambling for the clock he¡¯d neglected to unpack.


    ¡°Yup.¡± Talen gestured vaguely toward the door. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, by the way. Figured you wouldn¡¯t want to make a bad impression on your first day.¡± He waved casually and stepped out, leaving the door ajar.


    ¡°Thanks, Talen!¡± Kor called after him, his voice muffled as he shoved his head into the depths of his pack in search of clean clothes. He appreciated his roommate¡¯s thoughtfulness and made a mental note to repay the kindness. But that could wait¡ªright now, he had to move.


    His hands closed around the alarm clock nestled at the top of the bag. With an internal groan, he moved it aside, revealing the neatly folded robe his mother had packed underneath. He pulled the robe free, its crisp fabric still smelling faintly of lavender. Her careful packing was a powerful reminder that he couldn¡¯t rely on his parents anymore; success or failure rested squarely on his shoulders.


    He jammed on his shoes without bothering to undo the laces. The welcome booklet slid out of his bag as he wrestled with them, and he snatched it up, frantically flipping through the pages to land on the campus map. ¡°Eighteen-A, eighteen-A,¡± he muttered, scanning the timetable for his first class. Fundamentals of Mana. His finger traced a path from the dormitories to the classroom.


    Shoving the booklet into his robe¡¯s inner pocket, he grabbed his pack and bolted for the door. His heart raced as he sprinted down the corridor, the slap of his shoes against the polished stone floor echoing in the muted halls. Late on the first day. The thought twisted uncomfortably in his chest. A good Lexican was never late.


    Outside, the academy grounds were already buzzing with activity, students moving purposefully toward their classes. Kor weaved through the throng, clutching his pack¡¯s strap like a lifeline. He caught sight of a clock-tower as he ran and felt a fresh pang of urgency. Five minutes. He could make it. He had to make it.


    Kor sprinted across the campus, sweat beginning to bead on his brow as he wove through the labyrinthine walkways. The morning air felt cooler in the shadow of the tall, crystalline spires that made up the academy¡¯s architecture, but his frantic pace left him overheated and breathless. His pack thumped rhythmically against his back, its weight growing more cumbersome with each step.


    The academic block loomed ahead, a stately structure carved from white stone that shimmered in the sun. The din of students loitering in the hallways hit Kor as he burst through the archway. Conversations buzzed around him, a cacophony of idle chatter and last-minute preparations for the day¡¯s lessons. He drew more than a few amused glances as he barrelled through the crowd, his dishevelled robes flapping and glasses slipping perilously down his nose.


    ¡°14A, 14B, 14C,¡± he said under his breath, his eyes darting to the plaques affixed beside each door. His heart pounded as he scanned for his assigned classroom, 18A. Just how many rooms were in this block? Panic surged as the numbers crawled closer to his target, each second feeling like an eternity.


    Finally, near the end of the hallway, he spotted the engraved sign marking 18A. Relief and urgency collided as he made a last dash for the door, wrenching it open and stumbling inside. The room fell silent. Kor froze in the doorway, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Every head in the classroom had turned toward him, a sea of curious and amused faces.


    Several students chuckled softly, their snickers cutting through the oppressive quiet. Kor¡¯s cheeks burned as he stepped further into the room, his feet feeling leaden. At the head of the class stood a woman who commanded attention. Her fiery red hair, threaded with strands of molten gold, tied into a high bun that looked less like a hairstyle and more like a flame frozen mid-dance. Amber eyes, flecked with orange, sparkled with amusement as she focused on him. Her robes, adorned with intricate flame-like patterns, seemed to breathe and shift with each subtle movement, as if the fabric itself were alive with barely contained energy.


    ¡°If only every student was so eager to study,¡± she said, her lips curling into a wry smile. Her voice carried a lilting warmth, but the gentle mockery in her tone was unmistakable.


    Kor¡¯s mouth went dry. He glanced around, hoping to find a free seat before her remark could provoke further laughter. The professor pointed toward the back of the room. ¡°Plenty of space there,¡± she said, her tone more neutral now.


    He nodded mutely and hurried toward the indicated row, his shoes squeaking faintly against the polished stone floor. Sliding into a seat, he slumped down, wishing he could sink entirely out of sight. His damp robes clung to his back, and he shifted uncomfortably as he dug through his pack.


    Kor pulled out his two recently acquired tomes along with his notebook, placing them carefully on the desk. As he retrieved a pen from his pack, he shook his head, realising he still hadn¡¯t unpacked his underpants and other clothing. The memory of his disorganised dorm nagged at him briefly before his attention shifted.


    Looking about, he noted he was alone at the back of the classroom, except for a black-haired girl with pale skin. She sat a few seats away, her posture upright and her eyes focused intently on the professor. Her studious demeanour radiated an unspoken command for quiet, and Kor respected the boundary she had created.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    The clock-tower¡¯s magical chimes rang out, their resonant tones signalling the start of the hour. Kor straightened in his seat, his gaze fixed on the front as the professor stepped forward, her confidence radiating through the room.


    She was younger than any professor he¡¯d seen before, but her presence was commanding as she stood before the chalkboard. ¡°Welcome to Conflux, first years,¡± she began, her voice clear and dynamic. ¡°My name is Terra Firefall, and I¡¯ll be guiding you on your first steps in the Fundamentals of Mana.¡±


    Her gaze swept across the seated students. If Kor had to guess, the class size was around thirty. He felt her amber eyes briefly land on him before moving on, making him sit a little straighter despite himself.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start with the basics,¡± Terra continued, clasping her hands lightly in front of her. ¡°Every student here has been tested and found to possess high levels of mana. It¡¯s essential for casting even the simplest spells. Mana saturates every part of nature, even our own bodies. But what is mana?¡±


    She paused, letting the question hang in the air. Kor kept his gaze down, unwilling to draw attention, but another student spoke up.


    ¡°I was taught that it¡¯s a force of nature, like gravity,¡± said a boy near the centre of the room.


    Terra nodded approvingly. ¡°That¡¯s a good start. Just like gravity, mana affects everything. It supports life and enables the fantastical creations we rely on.¡±


    Putting action to words, she conjured a small, densely packed ball of mana, letting it hover just above her hand.


    Kor felt the subtle shift in the flow of mana around the room, a sensation somewhere between touch and sight, yet distinctly unique. Awe flickered through him, mixed with frustration as he tried to comprehend how she manipulated it so effortlessly. Was there a pattern, a formula he could decipher? The display teased the edge of his analytical mind, but remained just out of reach.


    Terra began strolling between the rows of desks, the orb of mana still suspended in her palm. ¡°Mana is both universal and unique. It¡¯s used by everyone, yet different for each of us.¡±


    The ball split into two smaller orbs, which began orbiting each other as she spoke, her movements fluid and deliberate.


    ¡°Anyone with control over their mana can learn basic techniques like the one I¡¯m using now by feeding it to power the spell.¡±


    Another student called out, ¡°But how do we cast a spell? Isn¡¯t there some kind of formula we can use?¡±


    Definitely another Lexican, Kor mused, glad that someone else had asked.


    Terra¡¯s face lit up as she turned to the student, her two balls now splitting into four as they swirled around each other in a dizzying display of control. ¡°If only it were so easy! Just as no two people¡¯s mana signatures are identical, neither are their techniques for channelling and controlling it. Though mastering control may seem daunting, its eventual rewards will prove worth every effort.¡±


    Her balls of mana drifted higher now, the four of them circling around Terra¡¯s head as they ignited. Terra Firefall. The name made sense now as several of the students gasped at the display. Some sat on the edges of their seats, clearly captivated, while others exchanged wide-eyed glances. One boy near the front even whispered, ¡°Incredible,¡± his voice tinged with awe. Yet a few seemed unnerved, shifting uncomfortably as the orbs blazed brighter.


    ¡°As you attune yourselves to the mysteries of mana, each of you will develop a unique connection with it, allowing you to wield it in a way entirely unique to any other.¡±


    With a click of her fingers, Terra brought the four balls together as they merged into one large sphere in front of her. It grew in size, almost reaching the desks beside her as the students around shuffled back in their seats.


    After a few dicey seconds, the ball of fire dissipated as Terra clapped her hands and smiled impishly. ¡°Make no mistake¡ªthe path ahead is treacherous, and the skills you¡¯ll learn here are forged in sweat and determination. I won¡¯t coddle you or pretend this will be easy. What I offer is a crucible¡ªa chance to transform yourselves from uncertain novices into practitioners with real power. Meet me with half the fire I bring to this classroom, show me a hunger that burns brighter than your doubts, and I promise you¡¯ll leave here not just educated, but fundamentally changed. This isn¡¯t just about learning; this is about becoming something more than you are right now.¡±


    Her gaze swept over them once again as the students collectively held their breath. Her eyes snapped to Kor, then quickly down to his desk as she moved purposefully toward him.


    Kor almost froze on the spot as she drew close before reaching out to touch The Logos. Her burning gaze nailed him to the spot as she stated to the class, ¡°We¡¯ve already got one overachiever in the class. Not even a full day at Conflux and already you¡¯ve braved Ether¡¯s testing to take your first steps in developing your specialisation! Fantastic!¡±


    Kor stared down at the desk as the eyes of the classroom drilled into him.


    ¡°You¡¯re the first Lexican I¡¯ve taught with such fire! What is your name?¡±


    ¡°Kor,¡± he said, a quick glance meeting her animated look.


    She nodded, removing her hand from The Logos. ¡°Normally I don¡¯t advise students to attempt Ether¡¯s first testing till midterm, but you¡¯ve definitely set the standard, Kor.¡±


    The professor walked back toward the front of the class as countless stares focused on him. He hadn¡¯t thought he¡¯d done anything that special, and now the professor already thought of him as some kind of prodigy. He didn¡¯t even know how to cast a simple spell!


    He turned aside to see the black-haired girl give him a nod of respect before returning her gaze to Terra.


    ¡°By year¡¯s end, you¡¯ll need to master mana sensing and gathering, as well as the fundamentals of magical theory. Your grades will mostly come from written tests on topics like mana dynamics, spell formation, and the factors affecting spellcasting effectiveness. However, with practical spellcraft lessons starting soon, we¡¯ll focus on mana control today. This isn¡¯t a subject I¡¯ll be testing you on, but we¡¯ve found many students arrive without basic control skills.¡±


    Kor felt the knot in his stomach loosen. This was just what he needed¡ªa chance to gain his first understanding of spellcasting. He¡¯d always been one of the brightest students back home, and the thought of lagging behind the others was not one he¡¯d be able to tolerate for long.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start by having each of you close your eyes. This is a temporary crutch to help you focus on the sensations within, but each of you should be able to sense the mana living inside your body.¡±


    Kor followed her instructions, quickly locating his mana once again, waiting for further directions as he felt the mana flowing through his body. He could feel the power within it, the life that seemed to suffuse its very nature as Terra spoke.


    ¡°How it feels will be different for each of you, but your first goal is to form a small ball of mana. Place your palm upturned on the desk, and without opening your eyes, attempt to shape your mana.¡±


    With his eyes closed, Kor felt the swell of mana from the rest of the class, a rhythmic hum of power that seemed effortless for his peers. The hum of the other students¡¯ success filled the room, each faint pulse of mana reminding Kor of the helplessness he¡¯d felt in the dream. The voidlings¡ªthose dark, shifting forms¡ªhad overwhelmed him then, his mana slipping away just as it was now. Terra said to form a ball of mana, but how exactly? It wasn¡¯t like he could use an ice-cream scooper.


    In fact, as he tried to interact with his mana in any meaningful way, it seemed to slip through his mental grasp, defying every attempt to control it. His impression shifted to that of a rebellious equation, one that refused to balance no matter how many variables he adjusted.


    He was familiar with geometrical shapes, had drawn countless spheres and circles over his studies, but attempting to form one from mana was something else entirely. It was like trying to cup water with his hands, only to watch it spill through the gaps in his fingers, no matter how tightly he held on.


    ¡°Good. Most of you have done this before. But for the rest, don¡¯t be disheartened if this doesn¡¯t come easily. Some casters find that ordering their mana about works, others need to treat it gently, and others still find it responds to their desires and that words simply get in the way. Explore every angle until you find what works for you.¡±


    The advice reminded Kor to think rationally. In his rush to catch up, he simply wanted his mana to do as it was told, to fill in the variable of this equation. With a deep breath, he tried following Terra¡¯s advice, speaking to his mana internally. ¡®Please form a sphere of mana above my right hand.¡¯


    He waited, straining to detect even the faintest whisper of response. Nothing. Tentatively, he cracked his eyes open, searching for any sign of the mana sphere he¡¯d willed into existence. All around the class, most of the students held balls of mana above their hands, some even making them orbit or bounce playfully. The ease with which they succeeded only deepened Kor¡¯s determination. He clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes tightly and blocking out the sight of their progress as he renewed his efforts.


    Think, Kor, think. You¡¯ve got the mana, but how do you get it to listen to you?


    He immersed himself in the challenge and started by visualising a perfect, grey sphere in his mind, holding the image steady as he reached out to his mana. He tried to coax his mana into copying his creation, reaching out with his metaphysical senses to float in the eddies streaming through his body.


    It felt as if his mana looked at what he wanted, but held no interest in obeying.


    ¡®Please help me out here. I don¡¯t want to be the only guy in class who can¡¯t even make a simple sphere.¡¯


    Once again, he got the distinct impression that his mana understood him, but it wasn¡¯t willing to budge.


    Frowning in concentration, he tried another angle.


    ¡®Perhaps there¡¯s something you want in exchange? A mana bath or something?¡¯


    Nothing.


    Time slipped away unnoticed as Kor tried again and again to control or move his mana. Around him, the room was alive with murmurs and faint hums of success. The pulsing flow of mana from his classmates threatened to distract him, but he pushed their sensations aside, concentrating solely on his own attempts.


    He shifted tactics, imagining the mana as water flowing into the confines of his mental sphere. Yet, each time it rippled and scattered, droplets refusing to gather. He tried directing it with careful, deliberate thought. Then, he switched to expansive gestures in his mind, but every attempt unravelled faster than the last.


    ¡®Please, just work! I refuse to be the only one sitting here empty-handed.¡¯


    The mana swirled restlessly, responding but not obeying. Frustration clawed at him, but he couldn¡¯t stop¡ªwouldn¡¯t stop¡ªuntil Terra¡¯s voice shattered the bubble of his focus.


    ¡°Good work today, everyone. I can see the effort you all put in.¡±


    What? Kor looked around as the students began gathering their packs, the lesson ending. He¡¯d only just got started¡­ The lesson was meant to be two hours long.


    ¡°Those of you who¡¯ve yet to gain control, don¡¯t give up.¡± Terra¡¯s eyes flicked to him and a few of the other students around the room. ¡°Focus on developing a connection to your mana, develop an understanding with it. Next lesson, we¡¯ll talk more about mana gathering, whilst working to further your control.¡±


    His classmates filed out of the room. The respectful looks he thought he¡¯d seen before now all evaporated as he packed away his books. He hadn¡¯t succeeded this time, but he wasn¡¯t about to give up that easily. Basic Spellcraft didn¡¯t start till 14:00, so he should have four hours to prepare.


    As he gathered his things, a voice broke his thoughts. ¡°How did you manage to pass Ether¡¯s tests without control over your mana?¡± The question came from the girl sitting beside him¡ªLena Nightwhisper. Her tone held a genuine curiosity, her bright eyes studying him intently.


    Kor blinked in surprise. He hadn¡¯t noticed her hanging back. ¡°Well,¡± he began, fumbling for words, ¡°Ether seems to be quite nice once you get used to his... style of communication.¡±


    She nodded thoughtfully, as though weighing his answer. ¡°Thank you. I¡¯m Lena,¡± she said, offering her name in greeting.


    ¡°Kor,¡± he said with a nod.


    ¡°Practise every day, every hour until you establish your connection,¡± she said firmly. ¡°Talent is no replacement for hard work.¡± Her advice didn¡¯t feel like a reprimand, and he offered his thanks back as she nodded one last time before heading off.


    She hadn¡¯t made him nervous like other girls; perhaps it was the calm smoothness of her voice, which seemed to carry no judgement, only quiet encouragement. But he pushed the thought aside. Like she said, he needed to practise, but with his lacking control, the dorm wasn¡¯t ideal. Perhaps one of the training fields...

 Chapter 7.

    With his first class finished, Kor stepped out of the block of classrooms into a hallway abuzz with chatter. Students crowded the space, their voices blending into a lively hum as they moved between lessons. Unlike the older students in their crisp official robes, the first years wore a patchwork of styles reflective of their home worlds. Solarians strolled past in airy, revealing garments, their sun-kissed skin unabashedly on display. In stark contrast, the Netharians shuffled by in their sombre, full-coverage attire, the fabric dark as the perpetual twilight of their shadowed world.


    Kor wove through the throng, acutely aware of the strange harmony created by the clashing aesthetics. His stomach rumbled as he headed for the nearest field¡ªa manicured expanse reserved for practical studies. He pushed the hunger aside. Basic Spellcraft started at 14:00, and the idea of being the worst in class was not something he could accept.


    Students dotted the emerald field, each practising magic in their own way. Some formed shimmering spheres of mana that hovered obediently above their palms, while others wrestled with invisible forces he couldn¡¯t perceive. A lone girl ran laps around the field - though whether this was for endurance or some obscure mana-channelling technique, Kor couldn¡¯t tell.


    The sight gave him pause. Exercise, magical or not, had never appealed to him. The very idea of running about made his chest tighten in distaste. Shaking his head, Kor retrieved the leather-bound book on Basic Mana Control he¡¯d borrowed the night before. He hadn¡¯t had time to read it yet, but hopefully it would provide some further insight he could use.


    Settling under a tree, he flipped open the book. Its pages glowed faintly, and as he scanned the text, the instructions parroted much of what Terra had covered. Close your eyes, breathe, focus on your connection to the mana. Simple instructions that didn¡¯t seem to offer any improvements. Despite the simplistic descriptions, he continued to read, flicking through the pages, hoping to find something useful before he got started again.


    The book emphasised the uniqueness of each person¡¯s mana, stressing the need to form a connection with it to make progress. Frustratingly, it offered no practical advice on how to establish this connection, instead moving straight to methods for gathering and sensing mana.


    With a sigh, Kor set the book aside. It seemed there was nothing left to do but try again. He settled against the tree and stared up at the distant barrier overhead. Magic must control the weather here in Conflux. With two suns blazing down on him, all he felt was a pleasant warmth along with a light breeze.


    He shut his eyes. The faint hum of mana filled his awareness as he repeated this morning¡¯s practice. Drawing in a deep breath, he concentrated on the feeling of mana flowing through his body. Wasting no time, he began attempting to form a ball of mana as he upturned his palm to rest on his knee.


    Once again, his mana seemed indifferent to his attempts. He envisioned the sphere in his mind, willing his mana to obey. Terra had mentioned different ways of controlling mana, and while he¡¯d tried countless methods already, he had to be missing something. Even the book had said that a practitioner¡¯s mana was deeply connected to them, often reflecting their essence in subtle ways.


    ¡®Maths and food, then!¡¯ he thought, briefly switching his mental image of the sphere to an apple, asking his mana to create that instead. A ripple of something stirred within him, tentative but present. His eyes snapped open, half-expecting to see an apple floating in his hand. Nothing.


    He frowned, trying the apple again, but this time there was no response. His frustration deepened. Was he going to spend his life negotiating with invisible forces?


    The frustration built, but Kor doubled down, tightening his focus. The mana would listen to him¡ªone way or another. With all the metaphysical strength he could muster, Kor reached out to his mana, forcing it toward the shape of his imaginary sphere. His body trembled with exertion, the air around him thick with unspent energy.


    Just as he sensed a flicker of movement, something struck the side of his head. The force sent Kor sprawling onto the crisp grass, his glasses flying off into the dirt. For a moment, he lay stunned, his thoughts scattered like leaves in a gust. Cool earth pressed against his cheek as he groaned and groped blindly for his glasses.


    ¡°What in the¡­?¡± Kor muttered, squinting at the offending object. A glowing ball of mana¡ªvibrant and erratic¡ªrested lightly against the ground before dissipating into nothingness.


    Before he could make sense of it, a tall figure loomed over him, casting a long shadow in the midday sun. ¡°Oh no! I¡¯m so, so sorry!¡± a voice exclaimed, laden with earnest concern. The girl dropped to her knees beside him, her hands fluttering uncertainly before settling on his arms. ¡°Are you okay? I didn¡¯t mean to hit you!¡±


    Kor blinked up at her, his vision still blurry. She was tall, her athletic build clear even beneath her fitted training clothes. Blonde hair, tied in a high ponytail, framed her amber eyes, which darted over him with palpable worry. She reached out, brushing dirt from his shoulder. ¡°Does it hurt? Can you see alright? Here, let me get your glasses!¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m fine,¡± Kor stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. Her proximity and the warmth of her touch set his pulse racing. He struggled to process her words as she retrieved his glasses from the grass, scrutinising them before letting out a relieved sigh.


    ¡°They¡¯re not broken!¡± she announced triumphantly, holding them out to him. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry about that. I lost control of my mana ball, and it just¡­ went flying. Are you sure you¡¯re okay?¡±


    Kor nodded, slipping his glasses back on and adjusting them with a shaky hand. ¡°I¡¯m fine, really. Just¡­ trying to practise my mana control.¡±


    Her expression brightened at his words, her energy almost infectious. ¡°Oh, is that what you were doing? I noticed the mana swirling around you while I was running laps. It was actually kind of distracting. That¡¯s why I lost control of the ball.¡±


    Kor raised an eyebrow, and she laughed, a warm, lilting sound. ¡°Not your fault, though! Just my lack of focus.¡±


    He glanced toward the field. ¡°You were running laps? Is that part of your magic training?¡±


    She grinned, her amber eyes sparkling with amusement. ¡°Nope! Exercise is good for the body and the mind.¡± She flexed her arm playfully, her biceps taut beneath her sleeve. ¡°Keeps me sharp in all kinds of ways.¡±


    Kor managed a faint smile, still overwhelmed by her energy. He averted his gaze, hoping she wouldn¡¯t notice the flush creeping up his neck. ¡°Well¡­ thanks for checking on me.¡±


    ¡°Of course! Oh, I¡¯m Viree, by the way,¡± she said, extending a hand to help him up.


    ¡°Kor,¡± he replied, taking her hand. Her grip was firm but gentle, grounding him as she pulled him to his feet. For a moment, he stood there awkwardly, unsure what to say next.


    Viree didn¡¯t seem to mind. She announced with a laugh, ¡°Seems like we both need to work on our mana control.¡±


    Kor chuckled in agreement.


    ¡°Perhaps I¡¯m not the best one to give advice on control, given what just happened,¡± she added, flashing him a cheeky grin. ¡°But I think you were trying way too hard to control your mana. The way it swirled all about you just seemed wrong, almost like you were holding on too tightly.¡±


    Huh. The realisation dawned on Kor at her words. Perhaps she was right. Maybe he could try using less force.


    ¡°Just like a muscle,¡± Viree continued, her tone thoughtful yet light. ¡°Sometimes you need to use a light touch. You wouldn¡¯t even be able to move if you were tense all the time.¡±


    Kor nodded, her words inspiring a different approach to his issue. He gave her a grateful smile. ¡°Thanks, I¡¯ll try that.¡±


    Viree beamed at him. ¡°Anyway, nice to meet you, Kor! I¡¯ll try to avoid clobbering you again.¡± She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet before darting off toward the training field.


    ¡°Good luck!¡± she called out, her voice carrying a carefree lilt that lingered long after she disappeared from sight.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Kor stood watching, the vibrant energy she left behind mingling with his own renewed determination. Adjusting his glasses, he turned back to his practice, Viree¡¯s words reverberating in his thoughts.


    Kor quickly settled back against the tree, closing his eyes as he reconnected with his mana.


    ¡®A light touch, Kor,¡¯ he reminded himself, tempering his usual impatience. This time, he wouldn¡¯t dive headfirst into his efforts. Instead, he tentatively extended his senses, seeking to feel the flow of his mana without forcing it.


    The gentler approach yielded what brute force never could. The sensation crashed through him like a wave breaking against shore ¨C alien yet achingly familiar. His mana pulsed with reserved curiosity, a presence as distinct as a heartbeat. Alive! The word blazed through his mind, and he silently thanked Viree for showing him what countless forceful attempts had missed.


    With his defences lowered, Kor allowed the connection to deepen. The energy within him stirred, and a fragile kinship began to form. For the first time, he didn¡¯t feel as though he were bending his mana to his will, but engaging with it as an equal. A silent accord passed between them, and he could sense its latent potential, waiting for him to guide it.


    Excitement bubbled up as he returned his focus to the exercise. Gently, ever so gently, he reached out to his mana, willing it to form into the sphere he imagined. His mana stirred, responding to his intent. Wisps of ethereal energy flowed from his body, coalescing above his upturned palm. The progress was halting, the faint orb wavering as he fought to maintain a steady grip on his mana while his heart raced.


    He opened his eyes, catching the first glimmer of success. The mana seemed content to follow his guidance, forming a nascent sphere that resembled a cracked geode shimmering under the light of Conflux¡¯s twin suns. His breath hitched, and he hastily closed his eyes again, forcing himself to concentrate. Stabilising the flow of mana took everything he had.


    Slowly but surely, the sphere took shape. The energy flowed steadily now, each thread joining the orb in a delicate dance. The sounds of boisterous students faded into the background, blurring against the razor-sharp focus he maintained.


    Eager to push further, Kor applied a touch more force, seeking to solidify the shape of the sphere. A thick pulse of mana surged into the flickering orb, causing him to open his eyes. His control faltered as the sphere bulged under the pressure before shattering with a faint crack.


    Kor flinched, pulling his hand back as fragments of his mana dissolved into harmless wisps, dissipating into the surrounding air. He stared at the remnants, then let out a breathless laugh.


    ¡°Divide me sideways,¡± he muttered, a grin spreading across his face. He¡¯d done it! For the first time, he¡¯d shaped his mana into something tangible¡ªhowever fleeting. The achievement was small, but it lit a fire within him. Compared to the effortless mastery of his peers from mana-rich worlds, this was laughable, but to Kor, it was the spark of hope he needed.


    As he prepared to resume, a whisper echoed in his mind, the voice from his childhood, clear and familiar: ¡°Congratulations Kor, keep at it and soon we¡¯ll be together.¡±


    Even as he felt the nascent connection with the voice form in his mind, Kor¡¯s muscles tensed, his whole body going rigid as he instinctively slammed his control onto the flow of his mana.


    The connection snapped as he realised what he¡¯d done. His breath caught in his throat, and a jolt of shock coursed through him. The whisper had been so vivid, carrying an undeniable familiarity that stirred both wonder and unease. What had it meant about being together? He hadn¡¯t meant to shut it out so violently, but he hadn¡¯t been expecting it.


    Kor¡¯s hands trembled as he pressed them against his knees, forcing himself to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly, the initial panic ebbed, replaced by a cautious curiosity that refused to let the moment go unexamined. What had he just experienced? Was the voice just a figment of his imagination, or something magical?


    Gingerly, he lowered his control once again, extending his senses outward, questing for the voice from his childhood. He reached blindly, attempting to reform the connection, but it had vanished entirely. He tried again, more carefully, yet the voice did not return. Each attempt left a deeper ache of frustration, mingled with the lingering edge of fear.


    He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus. Well, just another reason to gain control, he thought, resolving to make this a stepping stone rather than a stumbling block. After several moments of deliberate breathing and calming his racing mind, Kor reassured himself that the voice was truly gone for now.


    ¡°Keep moving forward,¡± he muttered under his breath, steadying himself with the thought. He resumed his practice, determined to maintain the utmost care this time.


    The morning stretched onward, marked by cycles of effort and recovery, as Kor poured his focus into mastering control over his mana. At first, he thought he was making progress. Each attempt seemed to bring a slight refinement, the elusive flickers of improvement spurring him onward. Yet, as the hours ticked by, a subtle fatigue crept in. His concentration wavered, and mistakes compounded. What had once felt manageable became slippery and unyielding, his control increasingly unequal to the task.


    Though Kor had barely tapped into his mana pool, an inexplicable exhaustion weighed on him. It was as if some intangible reservoir within had been drained. Each attempt at control frayed under an odd lethargy, undoing his progress and forcing him to stop earlier than planned.


    With a reluctant sigh, Kor finished his practice for the day. At least he¡¯d have time for lunch before Basic Spellcraft began. Gathering his belongings, he made his way to the cafeteria, his stomach grumbling faintly in anticipation.


    The midday meal was simple but comforting: sausages and mash, served with the academy¡¯s signature colourful gravy. Its distinctively sweet flavour contrasted with the creamy potatoes, creating an unexpectedly pleasant combination that offered a welcome break from his morning¡¯s frustrations.


    As Kor ate, his gaze wandered, noticing details he had missed before. The cafeteria was alive with subtle displays of magical prowess. Some students shaped mana into globes of metal or streams of water that flowed like living creatures. Others surrounded themselves with shimmering barriers, each showcasing the varied ways their abilities could be applied.


    Kor¡¯s attention lingered on the barriers, recalling a brief mention in his recent studies. He¡¯d need to master one soon as part of his basic training. Watching the ease with which others conjured them, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder just how effective they truly were. However, something quickly interrupted his musings.


    An argument broke out at a nearby table, drawing Kor¡¯s attention. A trio of Mystrian girls clad in matching silver raiments were locked in a heated exchange with four Solarian girls, whose bright eyes blazed with anger.


    ¡°You ought to apologise for your disrespect toward Dean Velleth,¡± one of the Solarian girls snapped, her voice sharp as a blade.


    The tallest of the Mystrians leaned forward, her tone dripping with disdain. ¡°It is you who should apologise. Mystria has always been the oldest and wisest of the Seven Worlds.¡±


    The Solarians laughed, their scorn evident. ¡°Seven worlds? Can¡¯t you count? There are eight now, thanks to Conflux itself. And let¡¯s be honest, it¡¯s Solaria that holds the power these days, not some planet of mystical old has-beens.¡±


    Kor sighed inwardly. Old rivalries clearly died hard. The tension escalated as the two groups began pulling in mana. The currents within the room fluctuated wildly as the air grew thick, charged with impending conflict.


    Before the first blow could land, an immense weight of mana slammed down on the quarrelling students. The force was instantaneous, driving them to their knees and pinning them against benches and the floor. They squirmed under the crushing pressure, their defiance reduced to futile struggles.


    A voice rang out, sharp with barely restrained fury. ¡°Enough!¡± Kor¡¯s head snapped up, unsure who had spoken. A compact figure strode into the cafeteria, exuding iron authority that belied his stature. His dark brown buzz-cut hair and steel-grey eyes carried an intensity that silenced even the rowdiest students. At just five foot six, his presence filled the room, leaving no doubt about his command. The silver accents on his Mystrian robes glinted as his gaze locked on the troublemakers, particularly the trio from his homeworld.


    Kor caught a hushed whisper nearby. ¡°That¡¯s Master Galen Terrak,¡± someone murmured, their voice tinged with respect. ¡°He¡¯s practically a legend on campus.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t even received your official robes,¡± he barked, his voice a whip-crack, ¡°and already you¡¯re bringing this academy into disrepute.¡±


    Kor winced in sympathy, feeling the residual pressure of the spell from his distant seat. The students under Terrak¡¯s spell squirmed as his gaze bore into them. ¡°I expect better from every single one of you,¡± he growled. ¡°You will report to my office first thing in the morning. Is that understood?¡±


    The pinned students groaned weakly, their voices barely audible.


    Terrak¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°What was that?¡± he thundered. The mana intensified, driving gasps from the subdued students. This time, they croaked out a trembling, ¡°Yes, Professor.¡±


    Only then did Terrak release the crushing spell. The students collapsed further, catching their breath and nursing their bruised pride. Terrak swept his gaze over the rest of the room, his steel-grey eyes a silent threat. ¡°Let me make this clear,¡± he said, his voice low and menacing. ¡°The cafeteria is no place for fighting. Out there¡ª¡± he gestured toward the doors, ¡°have at it if you must. But when we break bread, we set aside our differences.¡±


    His words hung heavy in the air as he scanned the room one last time. For a moment, Kor thought he might add an ¡°or else,¡± but Terrak simply turned on his heel and strode out of the cafeteria, his robes swishing behind him.


    ¡°I certainly don¡¯t want to get on his bad side,¡± Kor muttered under his breath. As he rose to clear his dishes, he overheard two students whispering behind him.


    ¡°Did you hear? He does this every year,¡± one of them said in hushed tones. ¡°Waits for the inevitable fight between the Solarians and Mystrians before laying down the law. One elder in my house said he¡¯s been at it for decades.¡±


    The other student raised an eyebrow. ¡°Decades? That¡¯s insane. What kind of magic was that, anyway?¡±


    The first shrugged. ¡°I heard it¡¯s something to do with force or gravity, but I¡¯m not sure.¡±


    Kor moved away as the conversation continued, not wanting to linger on the thought of Terrak¡¯s overwhelming presence any longer.


    A flicker of sympathy stirred in his chest for whoever would face those exacting standards. He returned his plate to the kitchen staff, resolving to avoid any situations that might bring him under the professor¡¯s scrutiny.


    Outside the cafeteria, Kor unfolded the map from his introduction booklet. The sprawling layout of Conflux Academy stared back at him - learning the campus layout might take as long as mastering magic itself. His eyes found Professor Moss¡¯s name on his timetable and lingered there. Did the name reflect their magical abilities, like Terra Firefall¡¯s did? Now that he¡¯d taken his first steps toward control, perhaps he could even take part without embracing himself.

 Chapter 8.

    Kor arrived at Professor Moss¡¯s classroom early, surprised to find that he wasn¡¯t the only one. The setup was utterly unlike the morning¡¯s structured environment. Gone were the rows of desks and chairs of a normal classroom. In their place, an array of cushions arranged haphazardly across the floor, all facing an empty chair and a chalkboard that loomed like a silent judge.


    The students had already scattered across the room, some cross-legged, others fidgeting as they adjusted to the unfamiliar seating. As Kor scanned the faces, a familiar voice called out.


    ¡°Over here!¡±


    Relief washed over him as he saw Talen waving him over. Kor made his way across the room and settled onto a cushion beside his roommate, his substantial frame sinking deep into the soft fabric. The belt around his waist pinched slightly as he shifted, trying to find a comfortable position.


    ¡°Are we really going to be sitting on the floor every lesson?¡± Kor muttered, shifting uncomfortably.


    ¡°Tradition,¡± Talen said with a smirk. ¡°Supposedly, it helps foster creativity in spell creation.¡±


    Kor raised an eyebrow. ¡°Have you created many of your own spells?¡±


    ¡°Outside of the usual mana control techniques, I¡¯ve come up with a few.¡± Talen¡¯s tone was casual, but his grin hinted at pride. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±


    Kor hesitated. ¡°I¡¯ve heard all this talk about how mana is unique to each of us, but why does everyone seem to use the same basic spells¡ªlike that mana-ball and the force-field thing?¡±


    Talen chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s because we¡¯re first years. A lot of students won¡¯t even figure out their specialty until halfway through the year.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Kor¡¯s eyebrows shot up.


    ¡°Yes. The usual way is to get tested by Ether¡¯s Archive. A few of us, though, already learned back on our homeworlds.¡± Talen¡¯s grin widened.


    More students filtered into the room, settling down on the cushions. The hum of quiet conversation filled the space.


    ¡°Does that make you some kind of prodigy, then?¡± Kor asked, his eyes widening.


    ¡°Nah,¡± Talen said, leaning back with a self-assured grin. ¡°But I¡¯m definitely above average.¡± He shot Kor a meaningful look. ¡°You¡¯ll want to catch up as soon as possible, Kor.¡±


    Talen leaned closer, lowering his voice. ¡°I can¡¯t give away any secrets here, but there¡¯s more to the Academy than the professors are letting on. You¡¯ll need all the magical ability you can muster.¡±


    Kor¡¯s mind reeled as Talen leaned back. He wanted to press for details, but the sudden creak of the classroom door cut through the chatter. The clock-tower¡¯s hourly chime sounded out, all eyes turning as Professor Moss entered the room.


    The man was tall, his hunched shoulders lending him the air of someone perpetually burdened by an invisible weight. His ash-brown hair was thin and unkempt, a testament to years of neglect. Grey eyes, half-lidded and disinterested, scanned the room, sweeping over the students with a look that could curdle milk. He wore plain, slightly wrinkled robes, carelessly pinning his Academy badge to one sleeve instead of near his heart as tradition dictated.


    Without a word, Moss made his way to the empty chair at the centre of the room, his movements as deliberate as they were devoid of enthusiasm. He sat with a sigh, steepling his fingers as his deadened gaze roamed over the students, lingering on each one as if weighing their worth and finding them lacking. The hum of chatter dwindled to silence under the weight of his unspoken disapproval.


    ¡°Right then, first years,¡± Moss intoned, his deadpan voice doing little to inspire confidence in Kor. ¡°Let¡¯s get started with the basic control exercise you should already have learned.¡±


    Kor stiffened slightly. He¡¯d spent the morning practising mana control and had even made some progress¡ªhalting though it was¡ªbut the professor¡¯s tone still sent a pang of doubt through him.


    ¡°I want each of you to form a ball of mana,¡± Moss continued. ¡°This is the first requisite in proper spellcasting. Without this basic level of control, you won¡¯t be able to move on to the more delicate control exercises.¡±


    Moss paused, his eyes scanning the room, as though expecting resistance. ¡°Now,¡± he drawled.


    Kor shut his eyes, tuning out the ambient surge of mana as other students conjured their spells. He extended his senses, searching for the thread of mana within himself. Slowly, he coaxed it outward, envisioning the sphere he wanted to create.


    The mana responded, forming the beginnings of a sphere. But as Kor focused, he realised his control was slipping. The spell leaked energy almost as quickly as he fed it, its surface fraying at the edges. Beads of sweat gathered on his brow as he tried to stabilise the shape, increasing the flow of mana as carefully as he could manage.


    Moss¡¯s voice cut through the classroom. ¡°Those of you who¡¯ve succeeded move to the left side and take a seat.¡±


    Kor cracked his eyes open, his sputtering orb barely holding together. He glanced around and saw most of the students already standing and moving to the indicated side, their glowing mana spheres shimmering with stability. His own creation wavered dangerously, and with a last flicker, it collapsed.


    ¡°Void it!¡± Kor cursed under his breath.


    ¡°The rest of you, to the other side,¡± Moss said, his tone flat and unyielding.


    Kor exhaled heavily, getting to his feet. Only two others joined him in the failure group: a pair of Lexcians with long, narrow faces that mirrored each other¡¯s expressions of frustration. As he shuffled to his seat, he heard faint chuckles from the successful students. The word ¡°Lexican¡± floated in the air like a barb, drawing a flush of anger and shame to his cheeks.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Talen shot him an apologetic look from across the room, but it did little to ease Kor¡¯s humiliation. He lowered himself onto the cushion, feeling the weight of his failure and the unkind stares of his peers settling over him like a suffocating shroud.


    ¡°Those of you who possess the most basic level of control,¡± Moss began, his gaze sweeping over the successful students, ¡°we¡¯ll start working on the first spell variant I expect each of you to master before the end of term.¡±


    Raising a hand, Professor Moss conjured a small cube of mana above his palm, its edges perfectly crisp and sharp. ¡°Unlike a sphere, the edges of a cube will test your control, as you will soon find out.¡±


    His grey eyes turned toward Kor and the twins, his disapproval palpable. ¡°As for the rest of you, work on developing your mana control, and be quick about it. Conflux is no place for those lacking talent.¡±


    With that, Moss turned his attention back to the successful students, leaving Kor and the others to stew in their collective failure. One of the pair leaned closer, his voice a low whisper. ¡°That¡¯s not fair. We don¡¯t have a history of magical study back on Lexica. How does he expect us to keep up?¡±


    Kor shook his head. He felt the injustice as keenly as they did, but he would not let it stop him. The first two candidates he had to surpass were sitting right beside him, and their defeatist attitude only fuelled his determination.


    He hadn¡¯t aced his studies back home, had his entire life upended, just to play second fiddle to the magically gifted students. If he was going to study magic, he was going to win.


    With that thought, he settled back into a meditative pose, closing his eyes even as the twins¡¯ bickering grew louder. However, before he could dream of besting anybody, he had a basic sphere of mana to form. He¡¯d made progress that morning, and even if he couldn¡¯t catch up today, it was only a matter of time.


    The rest of the class passed in a blur as Kor lost himself in focus. Every attempt at forming the sphere felt more difficult than the last, but he pressed on, refining his control bit by painstaking bit. By the time the session ended, the intense focus had left Kor exhausted. His limbs felt heavy, and his mana control had entirely eroded.


    As he trudged out of the classroom, Talen caught up with him, matching his stride as they joined the flow of students heading back to the dorms.


    ¡°Not to make things harder on you, Kor,¡± Talen began, conjuring a small vine with a casual flick of mana that twisted around his wrist, ¡°but Combat Fundamentals is going to be much harder than Moss¡¯s class.¡±


    Kor turned, still drained from his exertions. ¡°What do you know?¡± he asked, his curiosity piqued despite his exhaustion.


    Talen offered him a regretful look, the vine continuing to twist around his arm. ¡°The focus of the class is on fighting, which means you¡¯ll have to start beating other students in duels.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Kor¡¯s heart sank at the thought.


    Talen nodded gravely. ¡°If you want to stay on your instructor¡¯s good side, you¡¯ll need to work hard. And¡­ you¡¯ve got another disadvantage.¡±


    Kor frowned. ¡°What?¡±


    Talen¡¯s vine shot out playfully to poke Kor¡¯s stomach. ¡°You¡¯re fat.¡±


    ¡°Hey! Aren¡¯t we supposed to become wizards, not soldiers? What¡¯s wrong with a little extra weight?¡±


    ¡°A little?¡± Talen grinned, clearly enjoying himself. Kor opened his mouth to retort, but Talen raised a hand to forestall him. ¡°Seriously, what¡¯s the best way to deal with an opponent¡¯s spell?¡±


    Kor thought for a moment as they reached their dorm. ¡°I don¡¯t know, a counter-spell?¡±


    ¡°Hah! Not many control wizards of that calibre running around. No. The easiest method is to get out of the way.¡±


    Kor blinked. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean move, Kor. You know, run or jump out of the way.¡±


    Kor groaned. ¡°They aren¡¯t going to make us run laps or anything, are they?¡±


    Talen laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s standard procedure, but judging by your waistline, I bet they¡¯d be willing to make an exception.¡±


    Kor groaned louder, and Talen chuckled as they reached their room. The banter eased the weight of the day¡¯s failures, if only a little. Talen¡¯s attention immediately shifted to the veritable forest of plants covering the room, and Kor collapsed onto his bed.


    Maybe Talen had a point about his weight, but his first priority was developing his mana control. He¡¯d get in as much practice as he could manage, but there seemed to be a limit to how much he could do in one session before running out of juice.


    He shrugged off his backpack as the mattress creaked softly under his weight. The familiar ache in his shoulders ebbed as he set the bag down, pulling at the straps to loosen it. His fingers slipped inside, seeking the copy of Basic Mana Control he¡¯d borrowed for his studies. Instead, his hand emerged clutching The Logos.


    He frowned, turning the book over in his hands. The blue cover shimmered faintly under the light, its surface almost alive with an otherworldly energy. Patterns etched into the material repeated infinitely, looping back into themselves with an almost hypnotic precision. A faint hum emanated from the book, a vibration that sent a tingle up his arm as though it recognised his touch.


    Kor hesitated, biting his lip. Basic Mana Control would have been the sensible choice¡ªstraightforward, practical. But as he stared at The Logos, curiosity gnawed at him. ¡®A brief look wouldn¡¯t hurt,¡¯ he thought, his resolve softening.


    Slowly, he cracked open the cover. The faint hum grew louder, resonating clearly in his mind. The pages glowed faintly, their text shifting and reforming as though the book itself adapted to his comprehension. Intricate diagrams adorned the margins, layered with notations in a flowing, ancient script.


    Kor took a deep breath and began to read carefully.


    ¡°To seek the Logos is to seek the thread that binds all things,¡± the first line read, its elegant script drawing his eyes across the page. ¡°Reason is the light that penetrates the veil of chaos, revealing the hidden patterns beneath.¡±


    The diagrams beside the text caught his attention. They twisted and spiralled endlessly, each segment mirroring the whole in a way that felt both orderly and incomprehensible. He traced a finger over one, marvelling at how it seemed to shift subtly under his gaze, as if alive.


    ¡°In every fragment of existence lies a reflection of the whole,¡± the book continued. ¡°Through understanding these reflections, one may glimpse the infinite, the rational, the true order of the cosmos.¡±


    Kor¡¯s brow furrowed. The words hinted at something profound¡ªa framework not just for magic, but for reality itself. The looping patterns on the page seemed to pull at his mind, a silent invitation to delve deeper, to uncover what lay beyond their intricate, infinite repetition.


    He turned to the next page, and as the text began to form, the letters seemed to shimmer with a newfound intensity. ¡°To grasp the Logos is to demonstrate mastery. Reason alone does not suffice. No more shall this book be read with mortal instruments.¡±


    Kor¡¯s eyes widened, and he let out an exasperated exclamation. ¡°More tests?¡± he muttered, half in disbelief. Adjusting his glasses, he reached out to turn the page. His finger slid away, unable to make contact with the edge. He tried again, his touch repelled as if an invisible barrier protected the parchment.


    Leaning back, he analysed the cryptic wording. ¡°Mortal implements,¡± he mused aloud. The phrase gnawed at him, its meaning eluding easy comprehension. Was this a reference to his inability to touch the book directly? He sighed, resigning himself to the realisation that the book would not allow him to proceed without using magic.


    The thought sent a wave of frustration through him. His control was lacking and attempting any form of mana manipulation with such a profound book seemed unwise. The realisation hit like a stone dropping into his stomach¡ªhe had reached a dead end.


    With an exaggerated sigh, Kor closed the book, relieved to find that it hadn¡¯t barred him from moving it entirely. Even the Logos seemed to advocate for his growth, pressing him to hone his control. Setting the enchanted tome aside, its infinitely swirling patterns lingering in his mind¡¯s eye, he reached instead for the copy of Basic Mana Control. If mastery was the key, then he had no choice but to start from the beginning.


    As he opened the mundane book and began to study, the spirals and loops of The Logos danced in his subconscious, a silent reminder of the mysteries waiting just beyond his reach.

 Chapter 9.

    Kor had fallen into a rhythm, balancing his attempts at mana practice with late-night reading, until exhaustion and Talen tag-teamed him. The Verdanian boy turned off the lights with a wry remark: ¡°Both people and plants need their darkness at night if they want to stay healthy.¡± Kor opened his mouth to protest, but was too tired to muster any argument. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. The room descended into a peaceful gloom, save for the faint glow of mana radiating from Talen¡¯s plants.


    The steady chime of Kor¡¯s alarm clock nudged him awake. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, expecting to find the room steeped in the stillness of early morning. Instead, he blinked at the sight of Talen, already dressed and tending to his flourishing miniature jungle. The sunlight filtering through the curtains refracted against the crystal palm centrepiece, casting dancing rainbows across the walls.


    Kor shuffled out of bed, his hair an unruly mess. He squinted at Talen, who was pouring shimmering, mana-laced water into the plant tubs, each droplet glinting like liquid starlight.


    ¡°Mana water?¡± Kor mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep as he stretched, stifling a yawn.


    ¡°Something like that,¡± Talen replied, a smirk playing on his lips as he carefully adjusted a trailing vine.


    Kor nodded absently, pulling on fresh robes and fumbling for his glasses. As soon as they settled on his nose, the room sprang into sharp focus. The vibrant greenery, the glint of mana-infused water, and even the soft motes of dust floating lazily in the sunlight seemed alive with a quiet, magical vitality.


    His stomach gave a plaintive rumble, drawing his thoughts back to more immediate concerns. ¡°Hey, Talen. Want to grab a bite to eat before class?¡±


    ¡°Already ate hours ago,¡± Talen said, his tone light, though the glint in his eye hinted at some unspoken amusement.


    Kor shook his head in disbelief. ¡°Just how early do you get up?¡±


    Talen gave a knowing smile, leaning back against his desk. ¡°Early enough. Don¡¯t stuff yourself too much, Kor, or you¡¯ll regret it in combat class.¡±


    Kor sighed, tugging his robe into place. ¡°You¡¯re probably right. But a brain like mine doesn¡¯t work for free.¡±


    The two exchanged a chuckle before Kor grabbed his things and headed out. The hum of campus life greeted him as the dormitory gave way to the bustling pathways of Conflux Academy. Students hurried to and fro, their diverse attire a patchwork quilt of cultures and worlds, and the faint tang of mana charged the crisp morning air.


    After a quick, depressingly light breakfast¡ªa few slices of toast and some watered-down crystal juice¡ªKor set off toward the field listed for practical combat. His schedule was still light, with only three mandatory classes spread thinly across the week. While the gaps in his timetable offered ample opportunity for study and practice, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that his academic potential had yet to fully ignite.


    Today was Mystday, the second day of the week. The thought struck Kor as he walked, his curiosity meandering toward the origins of the week¡¯s names. Each planet had a day, except for Nexus, the Academy¡¯s home world. Perhaps it was an acknowledgment of their magical significance? Lexica, his own world, sat as the final day of the week. That seemed fitting, given their reputation for prioritising technology over magic.


    The sight of the combat field cut short Kor¡¯s musings on history. His classmates had already gathered, clustering into small groups. The sight filled him with a mix of anticipation and nerves. He adjusted the straps of his pack, squaring his shoulders as he headed over.


    He spotted Marcus first this time, the young man surrounded by several students, including the twins Kor had met previously. Seeing them made his stomach twist. Marcus¡¯s easy charisma and confidence had been reassuring at first, but his relentless assertiveness was wearing on Kor. It was hard to tell if Marcus saw him as a friend or a project.


    Kor hesitated for a moment, his nerves playing havoc with his gut. One twin, Kelleth, spotted him, nudging his brother with a smirk before the two of them fixed their gaze on Kor, their identical expressions oozing disdain.


    ¡°Ready to show us what you¡¯re made of, Lexican?¡± Kelleth called, his voice dripping with mockery.


    Kor swallowed hard, forcing his feet to carry him forward. What were the odds they¡¯d be sharing a class for what was undoubtedly going to be his worst performance yet?


    As he reached the small group, Marcus¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Kor! Fantastic. We¡¯re in the same combat class. This will definitely give us a leg up when we take Advanced Combat together.¡±


    Kor blinked, surprised. He¡¯d almost forgotten about that. He vaguely remembered saying he¡¯d think about it, but it seemed Marcus had already decided for him. The idea of passing basic combat felt daunting enough; Advanced Combat sounded like a nightmare.


    ¡°Everyone, this is Kor,¡± Marcus announced, his tone as warm as ever. ¡°He¡¯s from Lexica, the same as me, but without quite the same advantages as myself. Be sure to give him plenty of pointers, and we¡¯ll get him up to speed in no time.¡±


    Several of the students regarded him with polite disinterest, murmuring vague acknowledgments. Only the smallest girl offered a proper greeting, her shy smile a welcome reprieve from the others¡¯ stoic faces. Kor managed a nod in return, his cheeks flushing slightly.


    Marcus quickly reclaimed the group¡¯s attention, launching into a story about his last birthday party. The twins laughed at all the right moments, their smug expressions making Kor¡¯s irritation simmer. He stood at the edge of the circle, feeling like a messy fraction that didn¡¯t quite fit into the equation.


    The timetable hadn¡¯t listed a professor for this class. Before Kor could wonder why, a familiar figure strode toward the group, his imposing frame unmistakable.


    Master Terrak. The severe professor from the cafeteria moved with purpose, his dark robes flaring with each step. His stocky build and the faint lines etched into his face spoke of a lifetime spent in discipline and battle. Steel-grey eyes swept over the group, weighing and measuring each student as though assessing their worth.


    ¡°Students, attend!¡± Master Terrak¡¯s voice hit them like a physical force, halting all conversation in an instant.


    They quickly formed up in front of Master Terrak, Kor estimating around thirty students, just like his other classes.


    ¡°I am Master Terrak, and the lot of you, no matter your upbringing, are unfit.¡± His steely gaze lingered on Kor for a moment longer than felt comfortable. ¡°Unlike many of the other professors here, I won¡¯t accept any half measures. And, unlike most, I have the authority to disqualify you from Conflux Academy instantly if I find your resolve lacking.¡±


    A stunned silence fell over the group. Kor¡¯s stomach twisted as a shiver ran down his spine. Surely that couldn¡¯t be true? The other students exchanged glances, their eyes wide.


    A half-smile broke across Master Terrak¡¯s face. A sharp and humourless thing. ¡°We¡¯ll start with the basics. Five laps around the field. No walking.¡±


    The group hesitated, confusion clear. Kor, however, had been expecting something of this nature. Dropping his pack, he launched into a lumbering jog. A few other students followed suit, but the majority remained frozen, clearly unsure whether this was a drill or a genuine order.


    Marcus quickly caught up to Kor, his long, powerful strides eating up the ground with ease. ¡°Good read, Kor,¡± he said, flashing a grin. ¡°Let¡¯s show them what we Lexicans are made of, eh?¡± With that, he powered ahead, effortlessly pulling to the front. The Solarian twins were hot on his heels, their competitive spirits ignited.


    Behind Kor, Master Terrak¡¯s voice cracked like a whip. ¡°What in the void are you waiting for? MOVE!¡±


    Kor didn¡¯t dare glance back, focusing instead on putting as much distance as possible between himself and the taskmaster. A familiar swell of mana rippled from behind him, galvanising him to move like never before.


    The training field stretched wide before him, its lush grass glimmering faintly with mana. The turf was neatly manicured, but here and there were scorch marks¡ªsmall craters left by mana explosions, evidence of past exercises. Yet, even as he passed them, the grass seemed to be repairing itself, the scorched blades knitting together with an almost hypnotic rapidity. Whether this regeneration was because of an active spell or an inherent property of the grass itself, Kor didn¡¯t know. The burning in his lungs and the ache in his legs prevented him from contemplating it further.


    His brief stint near the front was short-lived. By the halfway point of the first lap, most of the class had overtaken him. Only a chubby Netharian girl lagged slightly behind, her determined expression making it clear she wouldn¡¯t stay there for long. Kor puffed and panted, his breath ragged as he fought to keep his legs moving. The faint hum of mana in the grass, a constant presence, felt like a taunt, its vitality mocking his flagging energy.


    He barely completed the first lap and already his lungs were burning, and his stomach tied in knots. His pace slowed to something halfway between a jog and a walk, his entire body protesting the exertion. Master Terrak¡¯s gaze felt like a physical weight on his back, pushing him forward with sheer intimidation alone.


    By the time Kor reached his third lap, Marcus had already lapped him, offering a brief word of encouragement before surging ahead again. The twins, meanwhile, were locked in a fierce race with several other students, their faces flushed with effort but still managing smug glances as they passed him.


    When the laps finally ended, Kor all but collapsed onto the ground, his limbs trembling and sweat pouring from every pore. His chest heaved as he lay there, utterly spent. Around him, the other students caught their breath while Kor remained doubled over, gasping. The twins exchanged snorts of derision, their laughter grating against his pride.


    Oddly, Master Terrak offered no words of critique or scorn. Instead, his voice rang out, addressing them all.


    ¡°Every lesson from now on will begin with the basic five. Even if you fail out of the academy, you are destined for the military, and trust me when I say their standards for fitness are much, much higher.¡±


    Kor barely registered the words, his focus consumed by the desperate task of catching his breath. Master Terrak¡¯s stony gaze swept over them all before continuing.


    ¡°Now, as you¡¯ve likely heard, this class will focus primarily on combat. Each of you, no matter your eventual specialisation, will need to both form and break a solid mana barrier. An easy task, many of you may be thinking. You can already do that much. Wrong.¡±


    With a flick of his wrist, Master Terrak conjured a mana barrier. The fluctuation of mana was so smooth and precise that Kor couldn¡¯t detect even the faintest trace of the man¡¯s spellcasting. The shimmering wall of energy stood before them, its presence almost tangible.


    ¡°Which of you fancies yourself a prodigy, with firepower unlike any other?¡± His voice was a low growl. Several students stepped forward, including the Solarian twins, their eyes bright with competitive fire. Marcus, surprisingly, held back, his usual confidence replaced by caution.


    Master Terrak¡¯s cold smile returned as he gestured toward the barrier. ¡°This barrier is the minimum standard I expect each of you to be capable of both making and breaking if you expect to pass this class with even a basic grade. Each of you take your best shot. Break it now, and I¡¯ll grant you a full 100-point pass for my class.¡±


    A murmur rippled through the group. Terrak wasn¡¯t playing around. The others quickly formed a line, with Kelleth shoving his way to the front. He gathered his mana with practised ease; the energy radiating off him in waves. Kor couldn¡¯t help but be impressed despite himself; the sheer amount of mana Kelleth summoned was remarkable.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The air around Kelleth seemed to shimmer as his mana coalesced into something intangible. It wasn¡¯t the simple orb of mana they¡¯d practised earlier. Moments later, his energy spiked, and with a grand, sweeping motion, he brought his hand down. The spell materialised as a wind blade, a sharp, cutting force that slammed into the barrier with uncanny power.


    Kor¡¯s eyebrows went up involuntarily. A perfect line was gouged into the shimmering wall. It didn¡¯t pierce through, but it was enough to draw a faint nod of approval from Terrak.


    ¡°Not bad. Not bad at all, kid,¡± Terrak said, his tone grudgingly approving. ¡°Before the year¡¯s out, we¡¯ll turn you into a monster. Now let¡¯s see what the rest of you have got.¡±


    Kelleth puffed up with praise and made room for the next student. Kor rose unsteadily to his feet, his curiosity piqued.


    Next up was the Netharian girl from Marcus¡¯s group. As Terrak refreshed the barrier, she stepped forward with a quiet determination. Her mana seemed to cloak her movements in shadows, tendrils of darkness twisting and coiling around her arms. With a focused gesture, she unleashed a volley of shadowy daggers, each one aimed precisely at the same spot on the barrier. The impacts built upon one another, driving deeper with each successive strike. The barrier shuddered but held firm. Though she fell short of piercing it, Terrak gave her an approving nod, his earlier frostiness giving way to a growing respect.


    Several other students followed, each bringing a unique form of magic to bear. One girl conjured seeds that exploded into a spray of tiny projectiles, peppering the barrier with bursts of energy. Another enveloped the shimmering wall in a dense, smothering fog, her mana diffusing through the air with a heavy presence. Then came Teneth, whose frozen flame spell shattered against the barrier with an audible crack, its lack of power evident despite its intricate design.


    All the while, Kor couldn¡¯t help but notice Marcus. While the others took their turns, Marcus stood at the back, his eyes half-closed, as if in meditation. Only when the line dwindled did Kor realise that Marcus had been quietly gathering his mana all along. What had started as a subtle accumulation of energy now swirled palpably around him, the ambient mana bending toward him like leaves drawn into a vortex.


    Marcus stepped forward, and Kor felt a ripple of anticipation sweep through the group. Even Terrak seemed to sense it, snapping to attention as Marcus placed his hand against the freshly restored barrier. What followed was nothing short of extraordinary.


    Two things happened almost simultaneously. First, the mana Marcus had been building erupted with precision, channelling into a single, devastating point of impact. The air quaked as the spell struck the barrier with enough force to make Kor¡¯s teeth rattle. Second, Terrak reacted with a speed Kor hadn¡¯t yet seen, his own mana flaring out to reinforce the barrier at the exact moment of impact.


    A deafening crack split the air as the two forces collided. The shimmering wall fractured under the assault, a spiderweb of cracks radiating from a small but deadly hole punched into its surface.


    Shocked gasps erupted from the other students. Even Kor, who had expected Marcus to excel, stared in amazement. Whatever Marcus¡¯s specialisation was, it was far beyond anything Kor had encountered before. The sheer control and raw power on display left him awestruck.


    The sternness fell away from Master Terrak¡¯s face, giving way to something Kor had never seen before - a flash of genuine admiration. He crossed the field to Marcus with purposeful strides, and when he spoke, his voice carried an unfamiliar note of respect.


    ¡°What is your name, lad?¡± Terrak asked, his tone almost reverent.


    ¡°Marcus Tallow,¡± came the confident reply.


    ¡°Marcus Tallow,¡± Terrak repeated, as if tasting the name. ¡°You are something else. If I hadn¡¯t reinforced the barrier, you would have broken it several times over.¡± He shook his head, his voice tinged with approval. ¡°You are going to take Advanced Combat Studies.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Marcus replied, his tone eager but measured.


    ¡°Very good,¡± Terrak said, nodding to himself. ¡°With the right training, we¡¯ll get you into the top five students, if not higher.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir. I¡¯m eager to learn from a master such as yourself.¡±


    The other students exchanged glances, their awe unmistakable. Marcus¡¯s display of raw mana was so overwhelming it seemed no one could ever match it. Still gasping for air, Kor felt a surge of determination taking root in his chest. The gap between them loomed like a mountain scraping the heavens, but Kor refused to see it as impassable¡ªafter all, every summit could be reached given enough will and resolve.


    This was the difference between the elite and everyone else. Kor still struggled to form the simplest mana constructs, while Marcus wielded power that even the academy¡¯s teachers respected. Yet the starkness of that contrast only fuelled Kor¡¯s resolve. Far from discouraging him, it lit a competitive spark, daring him to rise to the challenge.


    His thoughts turned to his father, a man lauded for his intellect and steady perseverance. For years, that paternal benchmark had anchored Kor¡¯s ambitions. But now, witnessing Marcus¡¯s mastery, Kor realised a new standard stood before him, high enough to feel impossible. And impossibility only whetted his appetite for success. If his father had taught him one thing, it was that no problem was truly unsolvable; the solution lay in persistence and methodical effort. Marcus was that new peak¡ªand Kor would not stop climbing until he reached it.


    The display had stirred the other students. Whispers of admiration mingled with competitive murmurs as dozens of eyes tracked Marcus¡¯s movements. Master Terrak¡¯s stern gaze swept over the assembled students, commanding their attention.


    ¡°The rest of you might as well have a go, too. It¡¯ll give me a good idea which of you shows real potential.¡± With a wave of his hand, Terrak refreshed the barrier, taking Marcus aside for a quiet conversation.


    Nobody was keen to follow in the wake of Marcus¡¯s performance, but after Master Terrak¡¯s bark of impatience, everyone got in line. Relief washed over Kor, as only a few other students had unlocked their specialisations. One boy unleashed a flash of light that practically blinded them all, followed by a girl who projected a wave of what Kor could only describe as happy mana.


    One of the other students snorted with laughter. ¡°You were meant to break the wall, not comfort it, Beth.¡±


    She blushed crimson, burying her face in the crook of her arm. ¡°I thought it might decide to let down its guard if I was nice to it,¡± she mumbled, drawing a rare chuckle from Terrak.


    ¡°Next!¡± Terrak called, his voice laced with faint amusement.


    Around him, students launched their mana balls into the wall with varying degrees of success. Some spheres flew swift and true, while others seemed to lack genuine power. Kor watched intently, his mind cataloging each attempt - the tight, concentrated balls that packed more punch, the looser formations that dissipated too quickly, the different trajectories and speeds. Each success and failure was a lesson, and he filed them away with methodical precision.


    When it was his turn to step up, Kor¡¯s heartbeat raced as he closed his eyes and focused intently on his mana. He envisioned forming the sphere, willing the mana to coalesce into the shape he needed. But the weight of the students¡¯ eyes on him, and the murmurs of impatience growing louder, gnawed at his concentration. Panic set in, and he gritted his teeth, pulling harder on his mana reserves than he¡¯d ever dared before.


    The energy surged to his call, wild and abundant. A glowing sphere burst into existence in his palm, larger and brighter than anything he had seen from his peers. It pulsed erratically, its surface quivering like an overfilled balloon. Kor¡¯s heart sank as he realised he had poured far too much mana into it. The sphere¡¯s instability was palpable, its edges flickering and trembling as though on the brink of collapse.


    Urgency clawed at him. There was no time to refine or stabilise it. He had to act now. With a hasty motion, Kor thrust his arm forward, hurling the sphere toward the barrier. The orb streaked through the air, a radiant comet trailing tendrils of uncontrolled mana. Each pulse of light seemed to grow more volatile, the sound of its energy humming loudly in his ears.


    Just as it neared its target, the inevitable happened. The sphere exploded a foot short of the barrier, a violent burst of light and sound that sent ripples through the ambient mana. A gust of displaced air ruffled Kor¡¯s hair and tugged at his robes. The spell¡¯s release was chaotic, reverberating in waves that left the other students shielding their faces.


    He had missed. The realisation settled in his stomach like a lead weight. But as his eyes adjusted to the aftermath, he thought he saw it¡ªa faint, almost imperceptible crack in the barrier¡¯s surface. His breath hitched. Had he really done that?


    ¡°Thought Lexicans were supposed to be good at control,¡± someone jeered, breaking the silence. Laughter rippled through the crowd, stinging Kor¡¯s pride as he stepped back into the line. His cheeks burned, but he kept his gaze fixed on the barrier. He had at least made a mark.


    Master Terrak, who had been deep in conversation with Marcus, spun toward the group. His stern gaze swept over the students before he spoke, his voice cutting through the lingering chuckles. ¡°I see that my work is cut out for me this year. Barring a few exceptions,¡± he said, his eyes flicking briefly to Marcus.


    ¡°And as tradition dictates, today each of you will receive your Conflux Academy robes along with new student badges.¡± He gestured for the students to follow him, his tone brooking no argument. As they fell into step behind him, his voice carried easily over the sound of their shuffling feet.


    ¡°Your new robes come with a host of enchantments costly enough to make your eyes water. Self-repair and cleaning. They¡¯re built to last, and anything short of a voidling is unlikely to destroy them.¡±


    Kor couldn¡¯t help the small grin that tugged at his lips. He¡¯d been dreading doing his own washing, but here it seemed magic had eliminated one of his least favourite chores from back home.


    ¡°Your student badges, however, are what will save your sorry hides,¡± Terrak continued. ¡°They are constructed from a special crystal, cultivated only here in Conflux. Imbued with dense amounts of mana, these badges will function as your personal lifelines.


    ¡°Each badge contains a personal barrier - a safety measure that activates in emergencies. These barriers will be essential to your training. In duels, your goal will be to trigger your opponent¡¯s badge until it flashes yellow. If you hope to win any battles, you¡¯ll need to master your barrier first.¡±


    Kor trailed at the back of the group, listening intently as they approached the Academy¡¯s distribution hall.


    As they entered the large chamber, Master Terrak turned to address them again. ¡°I haven¡¯t got much time left today,¡± he announced, his tone brisk, ¡°but starting with your next class, you can expect to begin combat training.¡±


    ¡°Do we get ranked or something?¡± one student asked hesitantly, drawing a few curious murmurs from the others.


    Terrak¡¯s sharp gaze landed on the questioner. ¡°Yes,¡± he replied curtly. ¡°Your position at the end of the year will form part of your final grade.¡±


    Kor adjusted his glasses as he stepped into the vast hall, its high ceilings and glowing mana sconces casting an ethereal light over the rows of shelves and garments ahead. Falling into thought, he wondered if the other combat classes endured such rigid testing or if this was all Terrak¡¯s own brand of teaching.


    As the group slowed to a halt, Master Terrak gestured toward the rows of neatly folded robes and stacks of gleaming badges. ¡°These will be your second skin,¡± he said, his voice firm but not unkind. ¡°Treat them well, and they¡¯ll do the same for you.¡±


    Hanging back from the others, Kor lost himself in thought. Combat training, ranking systems, protective barriers in their badges - it was all so much more intense than he¡¯d expected. A mix of excitement and nerves churned in his gut as he wondered whether Master Terrak¡¯s rigorous methods were standard for combat instruction, or if their teacher had developed his own particularly demanding approach.


    Terrak clapped his hands, breaking the quiet. With a swift motion, he led them deeper into the hall and stopped before an ornate door etched with glowing runes. With a flash of his mana, the runes flared briefly before the door chimed and swung inward, revealing a room lined with rows of robes and stacks of gleaming badges, all neatly arrayed in meticulous order.


    A small, grey-haired man rose from a desk near the back of the room, where he¡¯d been bent over a thick ledger. His eyes twinkled with curiosity before narrowing slightly as he recognised Terrak. ¡°Ah, Master Terrak,¡± he said, his voice gravelly but warm. ¡°What brings you and this gaggle of fledglings to my domain?¡±


    ¡°Equip them,¡± Terrak instructed briskly. ¡°They¡¯re my new first years. I¡¯ve got a pressing meeting to attend.¡±


    The old man sighed, muttering under his breath as he shuffled around the desk. ¡°Always dumping this on me, aren¡¯t you? One of these days, Terrak, you¡¯ll stay long enough to see your students through yourself.¡±


    Kor¡¯s attention drifted to the bronze-trimmed robes hanging in precise rows along the walls. The fabric shimmered faintly, each fold catching the light in subtle waves. The trim, a rich, metallic bronze, formed intricate patterns that seemed to shift and flow as if alive with mana. Each robe exuded an air of both practicality and grandeur, a clear testament to their enchantments.


    ¡°Step up,¡± the grey-haired man grumbled as he beckoned the first student forward. ¡°We¡¯ll need to get you all fitted properly. Not that Terrak ever gives me time to do it right.¡±


    Kor sympathised with the old man as he eagerly stepped closer in line, his gaze still fixed on the robes. A flicker of excitement stirred in his chest as he imagined donning one of them. These weren¡¯t just garments¡ªthey were a symbol of his place here, his first tangible connection to the Academy. Despite complaining, he quickly got to work assessing them.


    When it was finally Kor¡¯s turn, he stepped forward. The old man glanced at him, his sharp grey eyes briefly appraising. With a flick of his fingers, he cast a subtle spell, the air shimmering faintly around Kor as the man¡¯s gaze lingered. Whatever the spell revealed seemed to satisfy him, and he gave a curt nod before turning to retrieve Kor¡¯s Academy robe and badge.


    ¡°Hand over your old badge,¡± the man instructed, extending a hand.


    Kor complied, hesitating only a moment before relinquishing the familiar object. The man retrieved a slender metal rod from his desk, its surface etched with faintly glowing runes that tingled against Kor¡¯s mana sense. With a practiced motion, he waved the rod over Kor¡¯s old badge, the air around it shimmering faintly before the glow dimmed. Then, with equal precision, he waved the rod over the new crystalline badge. A faint hum from the badge accompanied the motion, and the man gave a satisfied grunt before handing it over.


    ¡°All done,¡± he announced curtly, setting the rod aside.


    Kor frowned slightly, curiosity getting the better of him. ¡°What was that for?¡±


    The man glanced up, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if deciding whether to answer. ¡°Had to transfer your student information,¡± he replied brusquely. ¡°Don¡¯t want you getting locked out of your dorm now, do we?¡±


    Kor blinked and nodded, clutching the new badge. The explanation made sense, though the process felt strangely significant. Softer than expected, the bronze-trimmed robe shimmered with life as the man handed it to him. The crystalline badge hummed in his palm, warm with coursing mana. His fingers traced its smooth surface as he considered that this small object was now his lifeline. As he focused on sensing the mana fluctuating within, he realised how much his limited perception held him back.


    He moved aside to allow the next student to receive their robes. Mana perception was one of the core subjects in his Fundamentals of Mana class. Perhaps, given time, he would figure out how these magical devices were made. Even the little he could grasp seemed a tightly woven mesh of mana, conforming to patterns that he couldn¡¯t even discern.

 Chapter 10.

    Attired in his new academy robes, Kor strode away from class, his back straighter than usual and a faint smile playing on his lips as he hummed to himself. The warmth of the midday sun filtered through the faintly shimmering barrier overhead, casting dancing prismatic patterns across the walkways. Conflux Academy¡¯s Nexus tower loomed in the distance, its crystalline spire catching and refracting the light like a beacon of magical achievement.


    ¡°The rest of the day is mine,¡± Kor murmured under his breath, the thought bringing a rare flicker of excitement. Free periods meant an opportunity to catch up, and he had a lot of ground to cover. The book on basic mana control was a solid start to his studies, but Professor Terra Firefall had hinted at countless other fields to explore. A visit to Ether¡¯s Archive seemed in order. He only hoped the sentient library didn¡¯t decide to test him again, even if the last encounter had proven fruitful.


    Around him, the academy bustled with life. Students in identical robes streamed past, their chatter forming a lively backdrop. ¡°Did you also get tested this morning?¡± one girl exclaimed, her voice rising above the din. ¡°Professor said I had some real potential with my mana sphere!¡±


    Kor¡¯s attention snagged on a crystalline bird perched on the shoulder of another first-year¡ªa boy with sharp features and hair the colour of sunlit wheat. The boy gestured animatedly, speaking to a girl who stood opposite him, her arms crossed in a stance of skeptical amusement. They stood by a row of meticulously manicured plants, the greenery punctuated with mana-infused flowers that glowed faintly in the shade.


    The bird tilted its head, the motion unnervingly lifelike as its gem-like eyes glittered. Kor wondered if it was a pet or something more. He¡¯d read that some spellcasters formed bonds with magical creatures, but identifying such connections was another skill he lacked. ¡°Perhaps I could ask them,¡± Kor mused aloud before shaking his head. Consulting books seemed the easier solution. He continued along the path, the hum of distant conversations and the occasional burst of laughter filling the air.


    There was so much to research, so many questions vying for his attention, he hardly knew where to begin. His thoughts churned as he walked, but after several paces, the world around him changed abruptly.


    The sky above the city lit up with an intense, blinding, golden hue. ¡°What in the¡­?¡± Kor stopped mid-step, heart pounding as he realised it wasn¡¯t the sky at all¡ªit was the protective shield encasing Conflux. The golden light rippled across the barrier, crackling with energy as though fending off an unseen force. A low, resonant hum followed, growing louder until it vibrated through the ground beneath his feet.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± someone near him exclaimed, their voice tinged with panic.


    ¡°Is it an attack?¡± another voice called. The words carried on a rising tide of nervous chatter.


    Dean Velleth¡¯s magically amplified voice resounded across the campus, his authoritative tone slicing through the rising panic like a blade. ¡°Students, please make your way to the nearest safe area or building immediately. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. Maintain order and activate personal barriers if you have them.¡±


    Kor¡¯s stomach tightened. Around him, students sprang into motion. Some hesitated, eyes wide with confusion or fear, but most moved with surprising calm. Personal shields shimmered into existence, faint bubbles of protective energy encasing the more prepared among them. Kor reached instinctively for his badge, the subtle hum of its protective power reassuring against his chest.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go!¡± someone urged, their voice cutting through his daze. Kor fell into step with the flow of students heading toward the nearest building, a stately hall with reinforced doors already swinging open to admit the crowd.


    As he joined the briskly moving line, Kor strained to catch snippets of conversation. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s voidlings?¡± one student whispered.


    ¡°Probably just a precaution,¡± another replied, though their tone lacked conviction.


    Kor¡¯s mind raced. What in the void was going on? The golden light from the shield still flickered overhead, an ominous reminder of the danger beyond. He cast a glance over his shoulder, catching a fleeting glimpse of the Nexus tower. Its spire seemed to pulse faintly, as though in resonance with the shield¡ªa silent sentinel watching over the academy.


    The tension in the air was palpable as students funnelled into the building. Kor clutched the strap of his pack, trying to ground himself amidst the nervous energy.


    ¡°Are we going to be safe?¡± a girl near him asked, her voice trembling. Her friend, a taller boy with a calm demeanour, gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine. They know what they¡¯re doing.¡±


    The crowd had begun to gather in the foyer, a large, high-ceilinged space with walls adorned with shimmering runes. Conversations buzzed around Kor, a mix of fear and curiosity. A wizened old man in professor¡¯s robes approached their group. His presence exuded an unflappable calm, and his steady gaze quickly quieted the chatter.


    ¡°Calm yourselves, students,¡± the professor said, his voice carrying effortlessly. ¡°This is merely a minor voidling incursion. It will be dealt with shortly. However, it¡¯s best to remain indoors until we receive the all-clear.¡±


    Kor found himself speaking before he could think better of it. ¡°Does this happen often?¡±


    The professor turned to him, a faint smile creasing his lined face. ¡°Often enough, lad. Every few weeks or so, a small number of voidlings manage to puncture the fabric between our worlds. But worry not, they¡¯re easily handled by the Voidguard.¡±


    Voidguard. Kor had heard the term before¡ªthe name alone made their role obvious. He nodded, his curiosity piqued as the professor continued.


    ¡°Unlike Lexica, many of the other worlds have seen these incursions grow more frequent,¡± the professor said, his tone shifting to a more instructive one. ¡°It¡¯s an important lesson for you all. The Voidflame Edict is not just a rule; it is a necessity to repel these invaders. While they are inexorably drawn to our mana-rich worlds, they are also weak to our power.¡±


    Kor listened intently as the words sank in. He¡¯d fallen under the misapprehension that only those who enlisted fought voidlings. Yet as the professor spoke, he recalled the First Magus¡¯s speech during their induction. There had been a hint of their roles as protectors, though Kor hadn¡¯t fully grasped its implications until now.


    ¡°You may have thought the Edict unreasonable,¡± the professor continued, his gaze sweeping over the group. ¡°But for many of you, this is your first time realising the very real threat of the Void. This is why you are trained¡ªnot just for yourselves, but to protect your worlds.¡±


    As the students murmured among themselves, some pressing up against the tall windows to peer outside, Kor wondered. Would he have to fight voidlings as a student? None of the teachers had mentioned anything explicitly, but it seemed inevitable. If they were expected to protect their homeworlds, they would surely need to learn how to combat these invaders.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Through the tall windows, Kor glimpsed a swirl of neon light in the sky. Defensive spells, perhaps? Moments later, the protective barrier glowed golden again. Shouts echoed from somewhere beyond the campus walls, their urgency muffled by stone and warding enchantments. Around him, students shifted uneasily, sharing worried looks.


    Thankfully, the incursion was brief. Within half an hour, the golden glow from the shield faded back to its translucent state, and the professor informed them that it was safe to leave.


    As Kor stepped out into the sunlight once more, his thoughts churned. The incident had given him much to consider as he set off toward Ether¡¯s Archive, the Nexus tower glittering faintly in the distance.


    The path to Ether¡¯s Archive was quieter than usual, the hum of the shield still fresh in Kor¡¯s memory. As he neared the Archive¡¯s entrance, a faint vibration tickled his senses, a subtle hum of recognition emanating from the ancient structure. It brought a small smile to his face, a sense of belonging stirring in his chest.


    This time, he resolved to ask one of the staff for guidance. As much as he appreciated Ether¡¯s enigmatic presence, he couldn¡¯t rely on the entity for every book he needed, especially when he wasn¡¯t entirely sure what to look for.


    Inside, the Archive¡¯s towering shelves loomed, their shadowy depths punctuated by warm pools of light from floating orbs overhead. Intricate brass railings bordered winding staircases, and the air carried the faint, musky scent of ancient parchment. Kor¡¯s gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of students scattered at tables, some immersed in books, while others whispered animatedly. The gentle rustle of pages and the occasional metallic creak of ladders formed a soft, studious symphony.


    Relief flickered through him as his eyes landed on the reception desk. A second-year boy sat there, his uniform slightly rumpled as he leaned over a book, idly tapping his pen against the counter. Kor approached, joining a short line behind two other first-years who whispered nervously among themselves.


    When it was finally his turn, Kor stepped forward, offering a polite nod. ¡°Excuse me. Do you know what books would be suitable for a first-year to cover all the basics?¡±


    The boy glanced up, his tired eyes sharpening slightly. ¡°Lexican?¡±


    Kor nodded. The boy let out a small sigh, reaching out to ring a small, inaudible bell. The action seemed routine, his attention already drifting back to his book.


    ¡°One of the librarians will be by when they¡¯re free. Take a seat while you wait.¡± He gestured toward the tables scattered nearby.


    Kor murmured his thanks and found an empty table. Settling in, he began organising a mental list of what he might need: something for each of his core classes¡ªFundamentals of Mana, Basic Spellcraft, and Practical Combat. He tapped a finger absently against the polished wood, thoughts drifting toward his struggles in spell formation.


    He hadn¡¯t been waiting long when a light touch on his shoulder drew his attention. Turning, he found himself face-to-face with perhaps the shortest person he¡¯d encountered on campus. The woman¡¯s mousy brown hair framed her round face, and a pair of oversized glasses perched precariously on her nose. For a moment, Kor mistook her for a young girl, but the distinguished robes of a professor and the confident tilt of her head quickly corrected his assumption.


    ¡°What did you need help with, young man?¡± she asked, her voice brisk but not unkind.


    ¡°Young man?¡± Kor stifled a smile, straightening in his seat. ¡°I¡­ well, I¡¯m a complete novice to magic,¡± he admitted sheepishly.


    The woman held up a hand, cutting him off with an understanding nod. ¡°The full package, then,¡± she said, her tone laced with gentle amusement. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    Bemused, Kor rose and followed her as she led the way toward one lectern stationed at the edge of the seemingly endless stacks. The hallway stretched on beyond sight, the towering shelves lined with books that seemed to pulse faintly with mana.


    ¡°You¡¯ve Ether¡¯s favour, young man. Rare for a first year, even rarer still for a Lexican,¡± she remarked without turning.


    ¡°I¡¯d have thought Ether would get along well with us, being a library and all,¡± Kor replied.


    The woman reached the lectern, pulling out a small box to stand on so she could comfortably reach its surface. With a practiced motion, she retrieved a sheet of enchanted paper and began to write, her quill gliding effortlessly as she murmured softly to herself.


    ¡°That might be the case,¡± she said, pausing briefly, ¡°if so many didn¡¯t fail out of the Academy in short order.¡±


    She murmured to herself, as she listed off several works, scrawling the titles onto separate slips of paper. ¡°Fundamentals of Mana... Mana Dynamics, Origins, Meditations, Sensing, Recovery, The Archetypes,¡± her voice trailing off as she wrote. The growing list put into focus just how much he had yet to learn; and he hadn¡¯t even started researching his electives yet.


    She moved on to Basic Spellcraft, then Practical Combat, her quill scratching steadily. By the time she finished, over two dozen slips of paper lay in a neat pile before her. With a satisfied nod, she turned and presented the stack to Kor.


    ¡°Uh, thank you, professor. This might be a bit too many for me to carry,¡± Kor said, eyeing the daunting pile.


    The woman¡¯s lip curled in amusement. ¡°Don¡¯t take them all at once,¡± she suggested. ¡°I¡¯d recommend starting with one for each subject. Just imbue the scrip with your mana, and it¡¯ll guide you to the book.¡±


    She gestured at the scrips. ¡°I¡¯ve numbered them in order of importance. Most professors teach the syllabus in the same sequence, but if you encounter difficulties, they¡¯ll likely direct you to the correct books.¡±


    It dawned on Kor what she¡¯d done, and he gave a hasty, sincere thanks. ¡°Thank you, professor,¡± he said, his voice firmer now.


    Stepping down from the lectern, she offered a final warning. ¡°Try not to wander from the main aisle. Every book listed should be there, and if you step off, Ether may take that as an invitation to your next round of testing.¡±


    ¡°There are more tests?¡± Kor blurted, a swirl of curiosity and unease tightening his chest.


    ¡°Yes, and they grow in difficulty,¡± Yue replied. ¡°My personal recommendation is to hold off until you¡¯ve mastered the materials Ether has already granted you.¡±


    Just what kinds of rewards would the next testing yield? Whilst Ether seemed friendly, he also had to consider that failure might damage that relationship or cause some other difficulty.


    ¡°Thank you, professor,¡± he said again, though his voice trailed off as he mulled over her words.


    ¡°Yue,¡± she corrected gently, a small smile softening her expression. ¡°And you¡¯re welcome, young man. If you need a place to study, there are many alcoves throughout the library designated for private use.¡±


    With that, Yue strode off, her surprising speed belying her stature. Kor turned his attention to the first scrip on his list.


    Fundamentals of Mana. Kor carefully extended some of his mana into the slip as it tore away from his hand, zipping off into the main aisle. His heart raced as he feared it might leave him behind, but it never travelled too far, staying a comfortable distance ahead.


    After a brief period of hunting down the first three books to study, Kor returned with them in his pack, searching out one of the private study alcoves.


    He had seen nothing of the sort deep in the stacks. As he neared the entrance, a large flock of books sped past, forcing him to step aside; a student ran after them before stopping as the futility of the action dawned on him.


    ¡°Gah! He¡¯ll have my hide for this...¡±


    Kor studiously avoided meeting the boy¡¯s eyes, instead finding the rooms all along a wall near to the entrance.


    Heading over, Kor found the small room cosy and warm. A padded chair upholstered in soft, well-worn leather, and a sturdy oak desk awaited him as he stepped inside. The door closed gently behind him, and he sat. The alcove was modest but inviting. Shelves lined the walls for temporary book storage, their polished surfaces gleaming faintly in the lamp¡¯s enchanted light. The warm glow filled the room with a golden hue, and the subtle hum of the lamp added a calming background note. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and old paper, mingled with a trace of lavender, creating a comforting and serene atmosphere reminiscent of the libraries back home.


    Kor smiled as nostalgia washed over him. The soft lamplight and faint aroma of aged parchment recalled quiet afternoons in his parents¡¯ study¡ªhim with his nose in a book, his father bent over intricate equations. That same relaxing hush filled the alcove now, and he found himself strangely at ease, ready to learn.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see what the professor found for me,¡± Kor murmured to himself, his voice low in the quiet alcove. As he spoke, a strange sensation brushed against his awareness¡ªa fleeting impression of Ether¡¯s attention. It felt almost like an encouraging pat on the back, warm and reassuring, but vanishing before he could fully grasp it.