ã€ŠThe Alight Archivesã€‹


 Prologue

    Duels.

    At first, Elaine never understood their appeal.

    Persons hailing from all walks of life¡ªprideful and arrogant goldbloods, lowborns with empty pockets, rib cages tightly compacted against their diaphragms¡ªwould swarm at these events, much like fire pixies around a lantern or griffins on the cliff sides of Diamer Coast. But in time, slowly, she unearthed the truth.

    There was undoubtedly a thrill to combat, one that couldn''t be imitated. It was pure, it was fire, it was bright. People chased that feeling, hoping to catch it in their hands, even if they could only hold onto it for a few fleeting moments. Perhaps it was an indicator of how mundane their average lives were. Or maybe this was just a definitive and undeniable characteristic of human nature, creatures that they were, scrounging after the corpse of a spectacle.

    It wasn''t hard to decipher the beginning of a duel, as there always tended to be an unmistakable atmosphere charged with tension. Set in the heart of a sprawling meadow, this small countryside town was cut off from the clamor and intrigue of noble society, creating an air of simplicity and isolation. The crisp winter air, tinged with the scent of frost and pine, compounded the gravity of such confrontations. During the winter months, when the days were short and the nights long, Page typically didn¡¯t entertain visitors for long; most travelers knew better than to overstay their welcome in a town where the warmth of the hearth could quickly turn cold with suspicion.

    This day, in particular, felt like an ember flickering defiantly in a relentless blizzard; a small pool of warmth nestled in an otherwise frigid and desolate dystopia. The dim light of a gray, overcast sky hung low and the ground was bare, the last remnants of snow long since melted away, leaving behind patches of slick earth and glistening stones. Yet, if she squinted her eyes, focusing intently on the jagged edges of the crumbling walls, she could still discern heaps of black-stained powder strewn about, remnants of a winter that once had the power to coat everything in white.

    But there was a duel going on. Yes, an especially loud one. There was magic in the air...No, what was it called? Essence. That''s right, Essence, the lifeblood of every living creature on the planet. Some possessed more than others, and the shadows weren''t lucky enough to receive Aeris'' Gift; the mages and the dullards. Elaine was the former¡ªa mage¡ªand she tasted the particles of Essence as they floated in the evening sky.

    Heaven above was one colossal canvas, and it had been brushed over with silky violet as pink clouds rolled. There were only a handful of stars, but they were supposed to be home by now. Ellend was supposed to be home.

    His absence only meant one of two things: he''d either nodded off in the Silver Dragon again¡ªhis face buried in a textbook as was the case whenever she was forced to march in there and grab him¡ªor he was in a duel.

    The clapping of hands. Men shouting and bickering over who they predicted would win, a fist filled with duls or bronze. Profane phrases spitting off someone''s tongue. Yes, there it was. That feeling. That special, blood-pumping, eye-splitting feeling of a duel. Elaine was little, and so if one of the many familiar strangers shoved their thigh or hip into her, surely, she''d stumble to the ground. And she couldn''t have that, she''d just washed this dress. Her mother would be furious. Aeris, save her. Nothing could stop that woman when she was upset. But Elaine considered herself somewhat of an expert when it came to navigating across these mazes of faces. A step there, a pivot to the right, a slight shuffle forward.

    She gasped sharply as she pushed her head through the throng in the front row. Here, the infectious excitement buzzed like electricity in the air, reaching a fever pitch. The crowd had formed a sizable ring around the two combatants, a blend of eager spectators and anxious onlookers, all of them acutely aware of the danger that lurked within the arena. They had to maintain a safe distance; a stray spell misfired could easily convert a thrilling spectacle into a trip to a Medical Mage tent for one of the unprepared. Naturally, Elaine''s eyes were riveted on her brother, watching intently as he maneuvered with both skill and determination, his expression a mix of focus and exhilaration.

    He was losing.

    Ellend was a well-put-together lad, tall and slightly lanky, with a mop of unkempt chocolate hair that often fell into his brown eyes. He had just turned fifteen a month ago, marking him one year older than herself. Known for his warm smile and easy laughter, he was fairly popular in town, effortlessly winning the affection of his peers. The boy possessed a remarkable gift for Spellcasting, often demonstrated when he conjured small bursts of light or summoned breezes that delighted those around him.

    Every now and again, she¡¯d catch him in the fields, chuckling with a local farmgirl, their laughter carried on the wind, or helping Lacy¡ªwho clearly had eyes for him¡ªwith carrying heavy sacks of hay into her family''s farm. Ellend had managed to capture the hearts of nearly everyone, his charisma and kind nature extending as far as the village market. On occasion, she would see him practicing his magic at the edge of the woods, the energy radiating from him like sunlight breaking through the clouds, illuminating the dull background and making it seem alive with possibilities. His magic shone as bright as the sun, enchanting all who witnessed it.

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    But he was...losing?

    There he was, crouched on one knee, a hand firmly gripping his simple commoner''s wand, worn smooth by months of non-stop training. His tousled chocolate hair spilled over the sides of his head, catching the afternoon sunlight and glinting with hints of auburn. His eyes, bright and resolute, were fixated ahead, brimming with determination as droplets of sweat trickled down his freckled cheeks, causing them to glisten. Approaching him was a figure bearing no familiar face from the neighborhood; the boy was an unmistakable outsider. Clad in elaborate garments that spoke of noble heritage¡ªrich, deep colors and intricate embroidery¡ªhe contrasted starkly with the simplicity of his surroundings. The refined attire suggested a life of luxury and privilege, a world far removed from the rough edges of common existence.

    "Had enough, lowborn? Or are you just going to keep blubbering in the filth?" He spoke in a harsh, abrasive tone of voice, his words cutting through the air like shards of glass, each sentence erupting with intensity, as he shouted nearly every other word. And that condescending glare he wore made Elaine want to dart into the dueling ring and slap him in the face. She didn''t. If she broke the terms set by this duel, then she''d technically be wrong. "I have to say," the noble smirked, "when I heard a tough sorcerer was around, I thought they''d at least be talented. But you barely put up a fight. How incredibly disappointing."

    Disappointing? Elaine thought, her eyes wide with shock, and she didn''t even realize her fists were trembling at her sides. What was this stranger talking about? Ellend was undeniably the most powerful sorcerer in their quaint town. Yet, as she pondered his words, the enormity of Incante, a sprawling country teeming with diverse cultures and formidable magic users, loomed in her mind. Did being the best in such a small, seemingly insignificant domain really hold any weight in the grand tapestry of a nation filled with untold power and ancient secrets? Until this moment, Elaine had never even considered that possibility.

    Ellend spat something red into the dirt, which drained over his bottom lip and down his chin. As he muttered to himself, the boy somehow mustered the strength to rise to his feet. The tip of his wand glowed faintly with the light of magic, golden sparks sputtering out. "You talk too much, sulmo," Ellend replied in a punctured tone, a hand cradling his stomach.

    The noble grinned at him. "You''re just a glutton for punishment, aren''t you? Very well, have it your way."

    Wh...What is that?

    His green eyes burned bright as arcs of violet lightning crackled around him in ribbons. There was also a certain kind of humming sound that tickled her ears, accumulating steadily like an approaching storm. As he pointed his wand towards Ellend, the noble sorcerer shouted a strange phrase she''d never heard. "Lightning Magic: Fulmeno Pisto!"

    In a flash, a brilliant bolt of screeching electricity surged from the noble''s intricately designed blue wand. The crackling energy zig-zagged through the air of the small dueling ring, a confined space, and with an explosive intensity, the bolt arched and struck Ellend directly in the waist, the impact echoing with a deafening crack that reverberated in her chest. Elaine watched, heart racing, as the energy enveloped him, bright and fierce, and a horrific, pain-filled shriek left his throat. Elaine gaped, and a strange sensation consumed her. The noble had won. He laughed triumphantly as his peers gathered around him, singing his praises. The smell of burnt flesh¡ªa thick, acrid stench¡ªpermeated her nostrils as Ellend lay there motionless on the ground, dressed in a coffin of charred clothing.

    The audience collectively gasped in astonishment, yet, among the murmurs of awe, Elaine discerned the occasional snicker and even a few cheers, as if some had not grasped the magnitude of what just transpired. She felt a flicker of frustration¡ªwhy hadn¡¯t anyone truly noticed the depth of the spectacle? Were their eyes simply not attuned to the extraordinary, or were they blissfully ignorant of the mystic arts that danced so vividly before them?

    The spell the stranger had cast, it was so...beautiful A breathtaking tapestry of shimmering Essence. Elaine could hardly blink as she soaked in the spectacle, her eyes pooling with unshed tears of wonder. Her heart pounded fervently against her chest, a wild rhythm of excitement that coursed through her veins. This was not just magic; it felt like a revelation.

    She couldn¡¯t shake the burning desire to experience it all over again. If she approached the noble sorcerer, if she asked just right, would he be willing to cast the spell once more? The thought fluttered in her mind like the delicate wings of a butterfly. And what if, in a moment of generosity or curiosity, he decided to enlighten her on the secrets behind his formidable power? The mere idea was intoxicating. She felt as though she stood on the precipice of discovery, yearning to unravel the mystery and learn the art of such breathtaking sorcery for herself. That knowledge couldn''t be ignored. If she asked, would he¡ª

    Wait! What am I doing?!

    Elaine shook herself out of the trance, and she sprung for her brother. "Ellend!" she shouted, kneeling beside him, a hand cushioning the rear of his scalp. His eyes were closed, his chest raised and lowered with each heavy breath, and there was a nasty, discolored mark running over his mouth and across his left eye. The electricity had singed him well. But he was alive. Thank Aeris, he was still alive. Miraculously, he hadn''t let go of his wand¡ªit slumbered with him, enclosed inside his fist. Elaine glanced upward at the figure of the noble again; he strode confidently away, flanked by a cadre of equally well-dressed companions. The sight of him leaving in such a casual manner, completely disregarding the fallen sorcerer on the ground, stirred a mix of emotions within her¡ªdisappointment, anger, and a touch of sadness.

    It didn''t surprise her much, however. In this world, power and status were dictated by the ability to wield magic. The whispers of the gathered crowd echoed her thoughts; if one couldn''t master their Gift, then a bleak fate awaited them. Despair was the only companion left for those who failed to harness their magic, and the noble¡¯s callousness was a stark reminder of the ruthless hierarchy that governed their lives.

 Chapter 1 - The Girl of Light

    "That''ll be four bronze, miss," Marlow grumbled, scratching the hairy caterpillar he called a mustache under his nose.

    The price had gone up since last week, and Elaine groaned at that. Marlow was a corpulent man who loved his tokens almost as much as he loved the emberleaves she''d catch him snorting on occasion. "I don''t suppose I can get you to lower the price, now can I?" Elaine asked, offering him but a fraction of a smile. When he didn''t reply¡ªaiming instead an unamused scowl¡ªElaine knew she wouldn''t progress much with him. Not today. And so she fiddled with the satchel resting on her waist, digging up the four tokens he''d demanded. He snatched them from her with his bloated sausage fingers, resting three of them on the table and raising the last to his lips. He bit it. "It isn''t fake," Elaine said, rolling her eyes. When the chip didn''t budge, Marlow grumbled in disappointment. Was he hoping it was fake so he could call for the military officers? He did favor the spotlight, that Marlow.

    "Can''t ever be too sure around here," he grunted. He quickly ducked behind his cluttered market stall, his hands busy fiddling with an assortment of objects that clanked and scratched against each other; the distinct sound suggested the presence of glass bottles. When he finally stood up, his half-opened eyes met hers with a sudden intensity, as if awakening from a daze. Without a word, he plopped a crumpled paper bag onto the table with a slightly exaggerated flourish, the faint rustle of its contents hinting at what was inside. Elaine leaned closer to peek inside. All of them were there, all six of them. Plump, partially ripe plumberries. These would help to make Mother''s rash elixir not taste so bitter. "Plucked them fresh myself. There a problem?"

    "No problem, no," said Elaine. "Actually, I was wondering about something."

    "If you''re asking about the farroots again, then save your breath. I haven''t received any word as of yet."

    Elaine frowned. "Fritz..."

    "Hey, language," Marlow protested, arms folded over an inflated stomach, partially bulging from beneath his shirt. "Didn''t your folks teach you any better, missy? Wasn''t expecting that outta such a prim face."

    "Sorry," Elaine sighed. "It''s just, with those roots, we could¡ª"

    "Not to sound cold-hearted," Marlow interrupted, scratching his set of wavy, rusted hair, "but even if you lot did get those surgin'' roots, who''s to say they''d work? Word on the streets is that it takes a special touch that only the, erm, magically inclined can offer. I''m by no means trying to underrate your plight, no ma''am. But, I doubt a little miss like yourself who hasn''t so much as even used a wand can pull it off. As for your folks, well..."

    Elaine launched a glare at him. "Just what are you insinuating?"

    "That I wouldn''t take my chances. Lest you''re hoping to waste your time and tokens making a cauldron of burned farroot soup, I''d say your safest bet is hiring a Professional Sorcerer. Then again, they aren''t cheap to come by, and I highly doubt one of them would be interested in visiting this sleepy old town."

    Elaine snatched the bag in her arms and started on a strut from his stall, defiant. Her emotions were sizzling, that wasn''t good, she might say something she''d later come to regret. "We''ll never know unless we try, right? Magic is a Gift my parents are capable of utilizing. I''m no different. Surely we can do something to help."

    "Don''t say I didn''t warn you, missy!" she heard him call in the distance. "There''s a reason sorcerers exist!"

    Elaine took a deep breath, inhaling the musty scent of the street air that mingled with hints of fried food and freshly cut flowers from the nearby vendor stalls. She felt the weight of summer''s heat bearing down on her, the sun pouring like golden rain, bathing her in a relentless warmth. With a subtle shift, she blended into the bustling crowd, becoming just another face drifting in and out of the market¡¯s confined yet vibrant tapestry. Today, the marketplace was busier than usual¡ªwell, as crowded as a small town like Page could ever hope to be. Families meandered between stalls, their laughter punctuating the air, while vendors called out enticing offers, their voices cutting through the chatter like knives.

    While she was grateful for the passing of winter, the sweltering heat was overwhelming. It felt like a cauldron waiting to boil over, and the lack of relief from the sun''s glare made her long for the cool embrace of shade. The buildings that lined the narrow streets were charming but woefully outdated, lacking the advanced arcanetech devices that wealthier cities had. What were they called again? She struggled to remember, the name slipping from her mind just as she tried to conjure it. Some of the goldblood elite flaunted those inventions, she knew¡ªmechanisms that could lower temperatures or even conjure ice from thin air to beat the summer swelter. How wonderful that must be, she thought wistfully, as she wiped the perspiration from her brow and continued to navigate the lively throng.

    Elaine deftly sidestepped a man who was obliviously ambling forward, his attention completely absorbed by the sensational headlines sprawled across the front of a glossy tabloid. She maneuvered through the bustling marketplace, where a seemingly endless line of identical stalls stretched out like rolling hills on either side of her, their vibrant colors creating a lively mosaic against the backdrop of the sun-drenched day. The air was thick with a cacophony of sounds¡ªshouts of enthusiastic merchants hawking their goods mingled with the rhythmic calls of clerics invoking blessings for prosperity. Each vendor gestured animatedly, vying for her attention with a mix of cheerful banter and spirited proclamations, showcasing everything from fragrant spices to intricately woven textiles. Elaine was no stranger to their tactics; she navigated this lively spectacle with practiced ease, fully aware that their enticing offers came at prices she simply couldn''t afford. With her purse feeling noticeably light, she pressed on, determined to stay focused amid the vibrant chaos that surrounded her. She needed to get home before...

    Wait, that sound.

    She recognized it.

    Elaine spun in a different direction, her curiosity piqued by the captivating melody dancing into her ears. It was a sound that cut through the cacophony of marching boots thudding against the packed dirt, the urgent shouts of vendors hawking their wares, and the cheerful laughter of children chasing one another nearby. She felt a magnetic pull toward the source, prompting her to hastily strut down Blackwell Avenue, her heart quickening with anticipation. As she drew closer, she found herself facing a small crowd, huddled in a loose semicircle around an unseen performer. The audience was modest, just fourteen souls, yet their attentiveness filled the air with a collective tension. Just as Elaine stepped forward to catch a glimpse, one man, visibly bored and disinterested, abruptly shuffled past her. His shoulder brushed against hers, and she fumbled slightly, her grip on the bag of plumberries tightening to prevent a spill.

    Those who remained captivated by the scene seemed to focus intently on a solitary figure seated cross-legged on the ground, a delicate flute cradled in his hands. His lips, tightly pursed, pressed gently against the instrument''s fluttering embouchure, and the Bard¡¯s fingers danced effortlessly across the surface of the flute, each note cascading forth like a stream of color, forming a complex yet majestic tapestry of blue and purple smoke that swirled around him, twisting into intricate shapes and images. As the enchanting melody surged, the first apparition took form¡ªa towering giraffe, its elongated neck stretching skyward, its grace accentuated by the way the shimmering smoke depicted the spots on its hide in swirling patterns. Above his head, a long, slender creature appeared, its wings glinting like jewels; the Bard conjured what Elaine recognized to be a dragon, one of the exotic varieties from the East, its expressive eyes glinting with mischief. It soared in tight circles, the smoke curling from its maw crafted to imitate fierce flames, flickering with hues of red and orange that contrasted beautifully with the swirling colors. At the Bard''s feet, humanoid figures took shape, their forms gradually solidifying from the mist. Elaine rolled her eyes, smirking as she did. At it again, are you?

    The Bard was a spindly fellow dressed in an aged linen shirt and baggy trousers. A cap sat neatly atop his stretched head, spiky dark hair protruding from underneath. "Gather around, I say. Gather," the Bard called. But he only lost another audience member, the yawning woman tugging her child along with her as she departed. Now, he was down twelve. "Tell me, any one of you, have you ever heard the story of the Red Hare of Black Grove?"

    None of them, Elaine included, said a word.

    "What?!" he gasped, appalled. "Why, I''m at a loss. And here I thought it was somewhat of a classic. Shows how much I know, aye? Nevertheless, I suppose this shall be a learning experience for all of you. Now, how did it start...err...Oh! Yes, that''s right. So we''ve all seen our cotton-tailed buddies hopping around before, haven''t we? I spotted one just yesterday, though it was hanging out the snout of a fox. Haha! But this hare¡ªthe Red Hare¡ªwasn''t like the rest of his kin. Oh, no. You see, he was sick, suffering from a terrible poison. What a tragic fate it was."

    "What kind of poison?" asked an older gentleman standing beside Elaine.

    "This hare loved to run. In fact, it was his favorite thing to do," the Bard continued, completely ignoring the inquiry. "Many who saw him claimed he moved so fast that he could beat a jackal in a sprint. Others declared that he could hop so high that he could clear a mountain in a single jump. Well, you know how hares are. They''re pretty good at hare-ing. Ha! This is why, I imagine, the Red Hare did what he did. He heard all of the praise he was receiving. Every animal around respected him, heralded him. Elegant deers stomped their hooves in applause. Omnivous hobgoblins sang their songs with glowing stomachs. Salamanders burned in excitement. He had it all. But he wasn''t satisfied, you see? He just had to go even further!"

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    He paused his story for a moment, allowing the hushed anticipation to linger. After this brief respite, he devoted this crevasse in his narration to a vibrant new composition, treating his tiny audience to a song that was as discordant as it was mesmerizing. High-pitched notes soared like birds in a chaotic sky, interjected by deep, resonant tones that echoed like thunder. The melody morphed and twisted, creating a captivating rollercoaster of sound that seemed to dance in the air.

    As he played, swirling smoky tendrils began to animate, frolicking with a renewed sense of vigor as if each note had given them life. One particularly mischievous cloud took on the shape of the titular long-eared rodent, its outline shifting playfully. It leaped and sprinted around the Bard, a blur of smoggy red that darted and weaved like a flash of fire through the afternoon light. Elaine chuckled softly as the tiny apparition whizzed past her, racing along some invisible pathway that only it could see. Although she had witnessed countless performances, each one a delightful spectacle in its own right, she found herself utterly entranced this time. It wasn''t solely the plot of his story that captivated her; rather, it was the magic he wove into reality with each note, transforming the mundane world around her into something mystical.

    His flute, which was as long as a man''s arm, had been enchanted with magical properties, allowing him to present them with this dazzling display. How unfortunate it was that most people these days weren''t impressed by his antics anymore. She remembered him being quite popular when he randomly appeared in town sometime last year. Miniature purple clouds erected into different shapes, replicating what appeared to be trees. "This hare, this poor, misguided fool," the Bard said, eyes closed. "He made a challenge to himself: he would run around the entirety of Black Grove in under a day. No hare had ever accomplished such a feat, and no hare ever would."

    The foggy creature galloped on its muscular legs, although it didn''t move as it had before. It stayed floating right where it was, directly in front of the Bard''s line of vision. The "trees," on the other hand, zoomed past it in a hurry, giving the impression that the hare was traveling as quickly as a thunderbolt through a forest. "He ran and ran and ran and ran. He didn''t stop for water or food, nor did he ever retire at sundown. Not even as he felt his legs crack, his lungs burn, his consciousness fading. Then, as fatigue vanquished his stubbornness¡ª" The Bard suddenly crescendoed a scale up to the Twin Sisters, and a new, monstrous figure materialized, pouncing on the Red Hare, mercilessly flailing it around in its fangs until it went limp. "Our hero meets his unfortunate end, murdered by a beast that cared not for fame or recognition or power or enjoyment. It merely wanted to sate its hunger."

    A rather abrupt, if not grim, ending to the tale, Elaine had to admit. The cloudy images that had danced around them dissipated like mist in the morning sun, leaving behind an unsettling stillness. The Bard, his chest heaving slightly from the exertion of weaving such a poignant narrative, rested the delicate flute on his lap, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Yet, the silence that enveloped the gathering felt heavy and awkward. Everyone stood motionless, their expressions a blend of confusion and disbelief, perhaps struggling to comprehend the weight of what they had just witnessed. Were they anticipating a triumphant conclusion, more notes of hope, or a final flourish that would tie the tale together in a satisfying bow? A full minute ticked by, filled only with the sound of a distant breeze rustling the leaves, and one by one, the audience began to disperse. There was no applause, no enthusiastic exchanges of praise¡ªonly a muted shuffle of feet and the soft murmur of disappointment hanging in the air.

    The Bard puckered his dry lips, spitting out a whistle. "Boy, tough crowd."

    "Pride," Elaine said. The Bard looked up from his lap, wearing a puzzled expression. But his dimpled smile resurfaced as he absorbed her into his dark eyes. "That was the poison you mentioned earlier, wasn''t it? Pride."

    The Bard cocked his head. "Come again?"

    "The Red Hare was poisoned by pride. He was too arrogant in his thinking, leading him to assume he could do something he obviously could not. He quite literally ran straight for his own demise, slain by a creature with far more simplistic motivations. The story''s moral was not to let pride lead us astray."

    "That...certainly is one way of looking at it," the Bard snickered, amused.

    "So, am I wrong?"

    "Not wrong," the Bard answered, wagging a finger at her, "you''re just not seeing the bigger picture. Overambition, my dear. That was the Red Hare''s downfall. It''s okay if you''re naturally good at something. I think one should take pride in that in which they excel. But problems arise if you keep trying to climb that mountain without ever once pausing to catch your breath. Inevitably, you''ll tumble right back to the bottom. Now, if you''re lucky, like me, you''d just need to brush yourself off and start over. If not? Splat! Another story ends, and a new journey begins."

    Elaine groaned. "Talking to you is always such a headache. You''re crazy."

    "And yet you always come back for more! Now, who''s the crazy one?" he laughed. "So, oh Girl of Light, she who dreams of gold in her slumber. What have you got there?"

    "Plumberries."

    "Oh! Just what the Medical Mage ordered! Performing on the daily can be pretty draining."

    "Ah, ah! Not so fast. These are for potions, not dinner," Elaine snarled, swinging the bag out of his reach before he had the chance to swipe it. In disappointment, he slumped back on the ground, leaning against the stone building behind him. "You know, if you''re so hungry, you could always just get a real job."

    The Bard gasped, covering his mouth. "A real job?"

    "That''s what I said..."

    "You insult me, fair maiden! For you see, this is my real job!" He twirled his silver flute¡ªmarked in intricate patterns of twisting, archaic symbols¡ªin his hand, fostering another sly grin. "Entertaining these fine patrons of Page is my greatest joy! Sure, it''s not the most profitable. But hey, it makes me happy. That''s all I can ever ask for!"

    "No offense," Elaine said, "but I don''t think the people around here are particularly, uh, enamored by your stories."

    "Sadly, I must agree. Though I believe they''ll recognize my brilliance soon enough. I just have to be patient."

    If nothing else, Elaine had to compliment him for his determination. Others around here would have jumped ship a long while ago. "Why not test your talents in the Capital?"

    "Where is it you think I came from? At least here, I don''t have to fear being assaulted by projectile tomatoes. I tell you, people these days have no appreciation for the arts. It''s discouraging. Truly, this Era of Magic leaves little room for anything else, even if it was gift-wrapped by Aeris herself."

    "The world''s cruel, yes. But that doesn''t mean we have to be." With a free hand, Elaine pulled out the small, blue-colored token from her satchel. She knelt down and dropped it into the Bard''s bruised, dirty palm. "My father taught me that when I was young. Helps me to remember there''s always light at the end of every tunnel."

    "A...A sapphire...?" the Bard stammered. "I can''t possibly accept this. I mean, I''m all for being acknowledged by my fans but...but this is..."

    "Just think of it as payment."

    "Payment...?"

    "For your performance, obviously." Elaine felt something fuzzy clog her chest, and she continued down the crowded market street with a skip in her stride. It wasn''t much, but spending even the tiniest drop of light had the potential to change a life.

    *

    * *

    There wasn''t a line at Harwood''s Potions. It wasn''t even closing time yet.

    Elaine lived on the outskirts of Page, just before a meadow that separated civilization from the wilderness, a forest of pine trees fracturing the horizon''s perfect, flat blade. She found her father twiddling with an empty glass vial inside of the market stall lodged awkwardly into the lower floor of the otherwise plain-looking cottage. The swashing of water against stone racing down a winding river sounded close by. Milo was lying on the front lawn, right where she''d left him. He had his four legs hunched in the air, and his tongue hung past his fangs and onto billowing knives of grass. Elaine chuckled; she reckoned the large dog would stay there for another hour or so. Lazy mutt. She sat at one of the booth''s three stools and set the bag on the table. "Six plumberries, just as you requested."

    "Finally. I''m starving." Before Elaine could stop him, her father had already taken a sopping munch out of one of the blue-colored fruits covered in yellow polka dots, juice dripping off his hand. He chewed in contentment, a warm smile spreading on his face.

    Elaine felt her annoyance simmer like a kettle set on a stove for too long. She glared at him, and her father winced momentarily, nearly choking on the fruit in his mouth. "Father," she said sternly, "that was supposed to be for the potions. How will we sell anything if you keep eating all of our stock?"

    He took another bite out of it, unconcerned. "And who exactly are we selling to? It''s not like we have any customers."

    Elaine wanted to scream at him, but her frustration quietly morphed into a heavy sense of defeat. She let her chin rest between her hands, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she watched him set a cloudy flask on the aged wooden table behind him, its surface marred by scratches and stains of years gone by. He was well past his middle years now, and the toll of time was unmistakable; deep lines etched themselves into the corners of his weary eyes, and his once-vibrant chocolate hair had begun to show strands of silver. The weight of constant disappointment hung heavily on his shoulders, causing his posture to slouch more each day, as if gravity itself conspired against him. If business didn¡¯t pick up soon...

    "Where''s Mom?" Elaine inquired. There wasn''t humming coming out their kitchen window, nor did she hear Liam''s annoying voice anywhere.

    "I believe she went out. Said she had to run some errands. Took Liam with her as well."

    That''s the first bit of good news I''ve heard all day, she thought. "How''s Ellend?"

    He took a breath, leaning his weight against the table. "Hasn''t talked much today, not that that''s anything out of the ordinary. Go give him a visit, will you? He''s never so sour when he''s around you."

    Elaine nodded, her heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and anxiety, as she stepped toward the front door. Her father¡¯s words echoed in her mind: nobody was home. Inside, a heavy, submissive silence enveloped her, so profound it felt as if she could hear the very pulse of the house, a stillness that could render a person deaf if they listened too intently. As she ascended the worn wooden stairway, her fingers grazed the cool, polished railing, each creak beneath her feet sounding like a whisper of long-forgotten memories. At last, her frown brought her to his door.

    She reached for the handle, but her hand trembled like a fragile leaf caught in the wind. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she forced an artificial smile onto her lips, a carefully crafted fa?ade, and without pausing again, Elaine swung open the door, ready to greet him with laughter and light. Ellend lay peacefully in bed, asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm

    "Hi, Brother," Elaine said in a hushed tone. No response, his eyes didn''t open. "I hope you''re having a pleasant dream."

 Chapter 2 - Strangers in Page

    Four months had passed since the incident, but it still hurt to stare at that nasty scar. A grotesque, pinkish mark forever ruptured his face. Ellend was known for poking his nose into matters that didn''t concern him, and he seemed to possess a rabid, almost instinctual yearning to help those in need. So Elaine wasn''t much surprised when he confessed to everyone at dinner that he wanted to be a Professional Sorcerer and join the Arcanum as a Strix. Just as she hadn''t been too surprised when Johnny from next door came shouting through her window that Ellend had gotten himself into another duel. It was the sixth that week. Admittedly, though, her interests were heightened when she learned that his opponent was a noble.

    They didn''t get many goldbloods in this neighborhood. According to them, towns and villages like Page weren''t worth the hassle of trekking to the countryside. Her father joked that it was nothing but an excuse. Nature terrified goldbloods, as did whatever else they couldn''t influence or bend to their will. But she knew there were more noble sorcerers than there were lowborn. Were the rumors true? Were nobles really better at using magic than others? Well, most noble families were composed of exclusively pure-blooded mages. So they inherently had access to more powerful forms of magic as opposed to a common mage or halfbreed.

    So, was it that genetics were superior to training and hard work? If a regular sorcerer practiced magic for years and years and years, would they still be no match against a mage favored enough by Aeris to be born into a family of strong sorcerers? Elaine remembered she had asked herself those same questions on the run into town. She never imagined her answer would come in the form of Ellend losing his first duel since he challenged that no-good Buck Grayson when she was five. This defeat wasn''t like that one. At least then, Ellend could walk the day after. She spared a leer at the wheelchair by the footboard. She knew he detested the thing. He''d have to make do until they could procure some farroot.

    "Great Aeris, when was your last shower? It''s so musty in here I can hardly breathe," Elaine cringed. His sweaty, sour body odor drenched the room like a thick fog. It flew up her nose, forcing her to pinch her nostrils close. "Let''s get some air in here, as well as some sunshine. Elaine opened the window on the opposite end of the room. A gust of afternoon breeze rolled inside, causing her blonde hair to billow like a dancing ribbon as the wind howled in her ears. Rays of sun painted the walls, imprinting gold shadows on the aged wood. "There, that''s better. Don''t you think so?" His only response was a mutter, or was that a snore? He turned onto his side, an arm covering his head but not quite concealing his scar.

    Elaine smiled at him. Whenever she watched him sleep like that, it reminded her of when they were forced to share the same bed. Aeris spare her, what a nightmare that had been. She''d often awaken when the sky was quiet and the Twin Sisters were high with a foot lodged in her mouth or his elbow stabbing her in the ribs. And she''d consider herself lucky if she didn''t wake up on the floor the following morning. Ellend was a capable sorcerer, but he was a horrific sleeper.

    She seated herself on the bedside, brushing some hair out of his eye, a line of drool streaming from his lips, dampening his pillow. She hated seeing him so defeated, so helpless. If only his fate had been different, he could have been off practicing magic right now. Maybe that Lacy would have mustered the courage to confess her feelings. Elaine smirked. Nah, not in a million years. Eventually, her glance landed on the commoner''s wand under the bedside table lamp. Ellend''s wand. She thought it over in her head: her mother and Liam were gone, Father was outside sulking. I suppose now''s as good a time as any.

    Morlow was wrong; she had indeed held a wand before. She also knew how one worked...for the most part. She gripped the wand firmly in her dominant hand, pointing it to the other end of the room¡ªa specific corner where the wall met the floor. Elaine closed her eyes, stilled her emotions, cleared her mind. Concentration, that was the key. Concentration. Elaine had been taught that there was more to magic than simply waving a wand and casting a spell. There had to be, right? Ellend loved magic just as much as herself, if not more so. The bookshelves that enclosed them were filled to the brim with historical texts and academic journals.

    If using magic was so simple, then why did throngs of magihistorians and Reachers devote their lives to unraveling its complexities? What drove Professional Sorcerers¡ªthose towering figures at the apex of magical mastery, individuals who represented the very pinnacle of what any practitioner could aspire to achieve¡ªto relentlessly hone their skills and delve deeper into their ancient texts and scrolls? Even in this Era of Magic, a multitude of mysteries surrounding the mystic arts remained tantalizingly out of reach for humanity as a whole. Elaine¡¯s mother was staunchly opposed to the study of magic, fearing its unpredictable nature and the dangers it could pose. If it wasn''t mixed in a potion or an elixir, she yearned for no part of it. Yet, her brother Ellend, bless his kind heart, understood her fervent desire to learn and her insatiable passion for the arcane. Against their mother¡¯s fervent wishes, Ellend took it upon himself to introduce her to the foundational elements of magic. Their secret lessons would unfold in the attic¡¯s dusty corners or behind the towering shelves of potion ingredients, where the smell of herbs filled the air and the flickering candlelight created a comforting atmosphere.

    Often, they would pretend to be immersed in the precise science of potion-making, even when their hearts soared at the prospect of spellcasting. They had been caught a couple of times, each incident resulting in stern lectures and weeks confined to their bedrooms, but the thrill of magic kept their spirits high. Elaine vividly recalled the moment when Ellend guided her in casting her very first spell. She stood there, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the slender wand, its surface cool and smooth against her palm. She shifted her weight anxiously from one foot to the other, and with a deep breath, she focused on the incantation. With each word that rolled off her tongue, she felt an exhilarating surge of energy, a connection to something much larger than herself starting to bloom.

    "Light Magic," she said softly, "Ina Lucio."

    The tip of Ellend''s wand radiated a vivid burst of energy, extending fifteen inches in front of her like a beacon of magic. She felt a sliver of Essence unravel from within, streaming forth gracefully, fluidly, as if water were winding and weaving through the twists and turns of a meandering river. The Essence particles, tiny, shimmering specks of turquoise-colored energy, danced around her, causing her hair to ripple, each particle tickling her skin with the gentle touch of a feather. This sensation of wielding magic, it was a profound sense of freedom, as though she could lift away from the very fabric of the earth and soar high into the brilliant blue sky above.

    A few feet in front of her, a tiny speck of brightness began to materialize, conjured into existence with a frantic spark that crackled. The energy gradually coalesced, swirling together into form, and there it hovered quietly in mid-air¡ªa luminous orb of radiant light, pulsing softly as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Elaine felt the corners of her mouth twitch with the urge to smile, but she quickly restrained a giggle behind tightly pressed lips, knowing she needed to maintain her focus and composure just a moment longer. Focusing on the spell, Elaine ordered it to float, and it did, higher and higher, until the glowing sphere had reached eye level. This time, she couldn''t vanquish her grin. Her skills with magic were getting better, slowly but surely.

    Why stop there?

    She tried again, her voice steady and firm as she uttered, "Light Magic: Ina Lucio." With a graceful flick of her wrist, she whirled Ellend''s wand overhead, the wood catching the light as it danced, before lashing it fiercely toward the orb suspended before her. The orb pulsated like a balloon on the verge of bursting, its surface shimmering with a kaleidoscope of colors. It split into two, then three, then four spheres, each bursting forth with energy. Elaine''s smile widened, a surge of excitement bubbling within her, and she erupted into laughter that filled the room with a jovial rhythm, echoing off the walls. She could barely contain herself, hopping in place as the once-dull space transformed into a breathtaking display. The room was now awash with a constellation of fallen stars¡ªglittering orbs that shimmered like exquisite diamonds, casting a vibrant glow all around her.

    The illumination enveloped her, banishing every shadow that had lurked in the corners and crevices, those dark, amorphous shapes that once seemed to cling tenaciously to the walls. Instead, those dreary spots were exorcised and replaced with brilliant tendrils of golden light that painted the room with warmth and joy. Elaine reveled in the newfound brightness, though she decided to keep the window open, as the soft breeze would carry away Ellend''s oppressive odor¡ªan affront to her senses¡ªwhile inviting in the gentle kiss of the sun''s rays.

    "I have to hand it to you, sis." With how quickly Elaine spun, she was surprised that she hadn''t sent herself to the floor, nearly tripping over her two feet. His grin gleamed behind the scarred mask as Ellend sat up on the bed. He poked an orb floating over his lap, causing it to collide¡ªand fuse¡ªwith another nearby. "This is some wake-up call. I realize I''m a heavy sleeper, but jeez, this is a bit overkill, don''t you think?"

    One by one, the orbs popped out of reality, inflating to their capacity and then exploding as flickering shards. And as they vanished before her eyes, they took the brightness along with them, his bedroom returning to its regular, lifeless hue. Normal yet somehow depressing. Elaine felt the fatigue dwindle her spirits, a nagging cramp piercing her stomach. Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she stepped to the bedside, falling with a plop atop its sheets. "I''m nowhere near as good as you. I need more practice," she replied with a slight chuckle. She set his wand back where she found it. "Sorry for using it without permission."

    "Kind of difficult to ask someone a question when they''re sleeping," Ellend commented in an irritatingly snarky tone. The sulmo spoke like that just to annoy her. Sunder him, but it always worked!

    Elaine exhaled. "I suppose..."

    "So, El," he started. She could tell he was reluctant by the way he fiddled with his fingers and bit his bottom lip. "Have you told them yet? About what..."

    "The fact I''m breathing right now should let you know I haven''t," Elaine cut him off.

    "Right, right..."

    "Honestly, Ellend. You should be the one to tell them, not me. I mean, it''s kind of in poor taste to murder a cripple, isn''t it?"

    Ellend laughed. "You can try telling Ma that after she''s thrown me into the Shadow herself. Good luck."

    "I''m being serious."

    "As am I." Ellend emitted a long, dry sigh. He let the silence linger for a while longer after that, not professing a word until he looked up to acknowledge her pleading stare. A look he couldn''t withstand. "Let''s be realistic here, El. Even if I wanted to..." Ellend trailed off, gripping the bed sheets tightly. "Anyways, it''s not important. I can''t, in good faith, accept their offer, not in my current condition." He raised the covers and peaked underneath, extinguishing another dissatisfied sigh. "Training to be a Professional Sorcerer ain''t easy. It''s a long and arduous race. How can I be expected to compete when I can''t even stand at the starting line? I''d be laughed right off campus."

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    "Don''t lose hope, brother." Elaine placed a palm over his, giving him a reassuring nod. "You''ve still got a shot. If I can just get some farroots we could¡ª"

    "Swindle some Medical Mage we don''t even know to try and concoct something that will supposedly fix...fix me? Yeah, we can hardly afford to keep the shop open as is. We need a real solution."

    "Like what?"

    Ellend repositioned himself, leaning so close Elaine felt his warm breath drizzle on her cheeks. "You," he said softly. "Don''t you see, El? You''re our ticket out of this mess."

    *

    * *

    "Liam, what''s wrong? You haven''t so much as touched your breakfast." Her voice was enraptured with the loving concern only a mother could offer, accented by mild curiosity. Elaine kept washing the dishes in the sink, scrubbing off muck and food with a poor excuse for a sponge.

    Next, she heard Liam yawn. He''d been like this for the last few days. It wasn''t like him to be so drowsy. That kid had more energy than the foxes she''d see on occasion dashing and hopping across the meadows encompassing Page. Elaine hid a leer. He was up to something. That, she was sure of. "It''s nothing, Ma. Really," he said, putting on a fake grin. Not a very convincing argument. Elaine counted several additional yawns in that short response alone, and his half-opened eyelids, coupled with how he constantly slanted his head, told her everything she needed to know. Elaine kept on scrubbing.

    "No point in keeping secrets, son. Believe me, she''ll always dig them out," Father warned, sipping on a glass of orange juice. "Might as well come clean about it now while you still can."

    "Okay, fine. I was trying to sleep but...but...I just couldn''t. El''s snores were too loud. It kept me up all night."

    That did it. Elaine slammed the dish into the sink, soapy water erupting savagely. "You grimy gargoyle! I don''t snore!" she argued, louder than she would have otherwise intended.

    "Do too!" the snot-nosed troll shot back, poking out his tongue. "You were so loud, and Milo even had trouble sleeping. Didn''t you, boy?"

    The dog''s response came in the form of an unenthusiastic grunt. He returned to his food thereafter, kibble smearing the white fur around his snout. He looked like a pile of lard more than anything. If it weren''t for his wagging tail and four paws, Elaine would have trouble convincing anyone that he was a living creature and not some strange house decoration. One that moved and barked and smelled like damp, fresh-cut grass.

    The legs of a wooden chair scraped against the worn floorboards, creating a sharp sound that momentarily echoed through the small kitchen. Mother carefully carried a stack of dishes, the clinking of ceramic mixing with the soft hum of the morning. She set them beside the sink, her hands steady despite the burden. Darah Harwood had once possessed a delicate frame in her youth; Elaine had often admired the faded photographs of her mother from her school days, where her slender silhouette was effortlessly elegant. However, it was only after giving birth to Liam that Elaine truly recognized the subtle transformation in her mother¡¯s figure. This didn¡¯t imply that Darah was overweight; rather, she had achieved a graceful balance, embodying the natural softness that came with motherhood.

    Despite the changes, her intrinsic beauty remained untouched. Standing slightly shorter than her husband, Darah still rose over Elaine by several inches, her round face framed by stray wisps of light brown hair that she had expertly twisted into a bun atop her head. Her skin held a hint of warmth from the sun, a beautiful, partial tan that complemented her striking dark green eyes, which mirrored Liam¡¯s gaze. The familiar pale yellow house dress she adored was adorned with smudges from the day¡¯s tasks. Of what? Elaine couldn''t tell. Some were red, others green, and one smudge was even...blue? Elaine would make certain to wash it for her later.

    "How is Ellend doing? Liam told me you spoke with him yesterday, and he seems to be in a much better mood this morning," the woman said, opening the kitchen window¡ªthe chirping songs of birds prancing in.

    Elaine shrugged. "Nothing much. We just...talked. You know, normal sibling stuff."

    "How incredibly vague."

    "Well, it takes a certain level of intelligence to comprehend the intricate and nuanced consultations between a brother and his sister. I''ll try to explain it to you when you''re older."

    She laughed, an adorable little giggle that could fill a stomach with butterflies. Chuckling herself, Elaine made space for her at the sink, and the woman was quick to nab one of the plates she had already cleaned. Her eyes were as sharp as an eagle''s, they were. As well as she had a habit of being thorough, explicitly so. "You''ve been chasing after those farroots again, haven''t you?" she asked, spiraling a washcloth round and around on glass until her reflection practically shined back at her on the plate''s gleaming surface.

    "And so what if I was?" Elaine asked, rinsing a collection of cutlery under the faucet.

    "We can''t afford them, you know we can''t."

    "So it''s better that we just give up?" Elaine tempered her frustration when she met her mother''s defeated grimace. She took a breath before she spoke again, ensuring not to raise her voice when she didn''t mean to. Sometimes, though, she found doing so incredibly difficult. "You taught me no matter how much the cauldron grumbles, bubbles, or roars, that it was our duty, our responsibility, to endure its churns until the potion shines. That is the hallmark of a true potion-maker. Sure, Ellend''s situation is...complicated, but he''s family. We owe him to try at least try, right?"

    "Giving up and accepting reality are too different things, Elaine." The woman stopped cleaning. After a while, Elaine also stopped her scrubbing. Like Father, she noticed that her mother was much more tired these days. Tired and disheartened.

    On top of their Ellend situation, Harwoods Potions and Elixirs was losing a lot of good business, most of their usual customers moving to other cities or cutting ties with them outright. And that wasn''t a good position to be in, especially in such a small town where neighboring businesses typically competed with one another. But the Harwoods raised her to be an optimist, as they were themselves, or at least, they tried to be. Hope was a fleeting thing these days. They had faith that things would pick up once fall arrived but...Elaine had her doubts. She didn''t want to, nevertheless she had them.

    "Mother," Elaine exhaled, hands submerged in soapy water turned gray. "I just...I have to tell you¡ª"

    A knock.

    Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. It cut into their conversation, as did it drive Father from pecking at his meal¡ªthe scrambled egg punctured on his fork pausing halfway from his mouth¡ªwhilst Liam jumped out of his seat, causing poor Milo to choke on some of his food.

    "Customers?" Father asked, wearing an astonished expression that mirrored her own. "Customers? This early?"

    Nobody knew what to do, this was an unprecedented, highly out of the ordinary circumstance. More knocks preceded the first, coming in waves of four distinctive thumps at a time.

    "I''ll get it," Elaine said, trying the best she could to recompose herself before her fingers grasped the handle and pulled the door open. "Hello?"

    Two men were standing on the front porch, men she''d never seen before. Strangers. "A pleasant good morning, young madam," the first started, bowing at herwith an arm bent behind his back. He had a head of well-kempt, darkish brown hair. "It is to my understanding that this is the Harwood Residence, yes?"

    Elaine wasn''t certain how long she had remained frozen in place, her eyes wide and unblinking, as if she were a mesmerized infant. It felt as though time stood still, leaving her grappling with the complexities of common social interaction that suddenly seemed insurmountable. Gathering her wits, she took a deep breath, straightened her spine, and forced a hesitant stammer to spill from her lips. "Y...Yes...ah...you''re in the right place."

    "Ah, perfect," he said, relief exterminating the sternness he had carried on his face. "I don''t often come to the countryside, you see. It is as alien to me as the Celestial Realm. For a moment there, I thought we had the wrong address. That would have been a real misfortune." He boasted a self-satisfying smirk at the man posted behind him, elbowing him in the shoulder. "See, Raze? You should have more faith in my navigational prowess. All of that complaining just for us to reach where we needed to be regardless."

    Yup, he was definitely a noble. She could tell from his well-articulated, if not a little cheerful, manner of speech that flowed like a gentle stream, drawing her in rather than imposing on her. He didn¡¯t appear to be much older than her father, but the wisdom in his eyes hinted at experiences beyond his years. On the contrary, he seemed rather young¡ªperhaps in his late thirties or early forties, if she were to take a random guess. Before her stood a figure dressed in attire that spoke of his station; a crisp white long-sleeved shirt, meticulously pressed, was draped elegantly by a brown coat that bore the subtle shimmer of fine fabric. His dark trousers hugged him just right, and his polished black boots gleamed as though reflecting a hidden pride. She imagined that such garments were not the kind to be found in their modest domain; he must have captured quite a few puzzled stares and intrigued glances as he made his way through Page, a town unlikely to see the likes of him so brazenly attired.

    There was a warmth and generosity terminating from this goldblooded stranger, a quality that felt refreshing and was often absent in the other nobles she had encountered thus far in her brief, yet poignant life. Instead of the cold aloofness, she had come to expect, his presence exuded a genuine interest, making her feel seen rather than overlooked in the savage ocean of social hierarchies. For starters, he didn''t hold up his nose at her as if to translate, "A creature such as yourself doesn''t deserve to be in my presence. Know your place, lowborn scum." No, sir, he was staring straight at her with his dark blues, not bothered in the slightest.

    She wished she could say the same for his associate. Raze, was it? The taller man was decked out in a jet-black cloak that covered his entire body save for his head, neck, and mudstained boots. He was like a skeleton with his bony, pale skin, hollowed-out cheeks, and sickly yellow eyes. Fortunately, Aeris hadn''t cursed him to be bald¡ªhis dark, wavy hair dangled down the sides of his face like a cluster of expired seaweed¡ªotherwise, some folks might have mistaken him for a reanimated skeleton.

    What immediately stood out about the two, other than their status as nobles, of course, were the wands holstered on the sides of their waist. They weren''t typical commoner''s wands like Ellend''s, nor were they the kind you''d purchase from an ordinary magic shop or guild. But she also wouldn''t say they were similar to a noble''s wand either. Based on their appearance, Elaine realized they were instead crafted from the bark of a thistlewood tree, a species you could only obtain from off the continent.

    Elaine gulped, a horrible chill coursing through her. There was no denying it. These men were Professional Sorcerers. Were they with the Arcanum, or were they from a special branch of the Military? Had her family done something wrong? All the questions her brain compiled had distracted her so much¡ªcausing her breath to taste pungent and her heart to race¡ªthat she hadn''t noticed the sorcerer snapping his gloved fingers in front of her, expressing a look of bewilderment with a raised brow.

    "Ah! S...Sorry," Elaine stammered. "Could you repeat that for me, please...?"

    "I was merely introducing myself, dear," he chuckled. "My name is Orion Valerian, headmaster of Glyph Academy."

    W...What? Elaine stepped back inside her house, a numb hand having yet to release the door handle from its grip. Gl...Glyph Academy? No way...But if they''re here...Ellend...

    "If I may, what business does a headmaster like yourself have with us?" Mother asked, appearing beside her.

    To her question, Orion reached into his coat and pulled out an enclosed letter marked with a blue insignia¡ªit captured a griffin inside of a rim of golden stars, its wings unfolded, beak split open, and talons bared. "We came here," he said, "regarding Ellend Harwood''s offer to attend Glyph Academy for the upcoming semester. To my knowledge, he was permanently wounded due to a duel. As such, I sought to speak with him, as well as his caretakers, directly."

    Mother''s lower jaw practically plummeted to the floor; Elaine hadn''t seen the woman so astonished since she caught Liam trying to climb the oak tree in their backyard. He almost broke his neck that day, and yet she still hadn''t been as voicelessly astounded as she was at present. "His what...?" she gasped.

    Elaine winced, blanketing a flammable cringe with her palm. There it was, Ellend''s secret had been unveiled.

 Chapter 3 - The Test

    Quietly, Elaine waited in the living room, seated on their couch, legs crouched beneath her. She''d been the first person Ellend had ever told about his acceptance. According to him, he was approached by a Glyph representative only two weeks before his fated duel with that mysterious nobleman sorcerer. Due to his injury, she already knew it''d be impossible for him to attend classes there. She expected that the school would revoke his enrollment offer once the semester had begun, but for the headmaster to visit them himself, why, was that a common practice in nobility? Was she just out of the loop regarding what was considered normal by others?

    Orion, or rather, Headmaster Valerian, certainly didn¡¯t seem inconvenienced. In fact, he wore an unusually bright demeanor¡ªthere was a lightness in his step, and he greeted everyone with warm smiles and genuine compliments. Had it not been for his exuberant attire, Elaine suspected that he could convincingly blend in as an ordinary lowborn. His associate Raze was a stark contrast to this optimism. He seldom allowed her irritation to fade; his features were set in a permanent scowl that could curdle milk. With tightly crossed arms and a piercing gaze, Raze radiated a menace that made it clear he was not in the mood for pleasantries. If looks could kill, Elaine mused, Raze¡¯s glare would surely have already felled her and the others present, sending them all spiraling towards Aeris in her Eternal Gardens.

    Liam plopped into the sofa beside her¡ªshocking her to such an extent that a startled yelp! escaped her¡ªas Milo tramped along after him, the dog lazily spinning in a circle before settling on the floor in a massive ball of fur. "If I asked them, do you think they would give me a wand?" Liam grinned. "Now that would be awesome!"

    Elaine swallowed nervously. "What do you reckon they''re talking about?"

    "How should I know? I''m not a surgin'' telepath!"

    Liam leaned into her¡ªnot budging no matter how much she shoved and pushed in protest¡ªand sighed. "Oh, what is it? You sulmo."

    "You think those guys are gonna heal him?" Liam said. "I mean, they''re Professional Sorcerers, aren''t they? They''ve gotta know all kinds of wicked spells."

    Elaine threw a palm into his face, finally managing to pry the smaller child off of her. Annoying gremlin. "It''s not that simple. If Abjuration were an easy artform to master then every sorcerer under the sun would have enlisted into the Medical Mages by now. I think this has more to do with his studies. Maybe they''ve devised an alternate method of how he can attend classes or are willing to make exceptions for cases like his."

    "You''ve probably read more about the place than I have. What makes Glyph so special, anyhow?"

    Elaine frowned. "I''m going to pretend like you didn''t ask that."

    "What! What is it? Tell me!" Elaine sealed her lips and folded her arms, refusing to move, even as the parasite poked her in her side, tugged her arm, screamed in her ears. "Come on, El! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!!"

    "All right, all right!" Elaine shouted. "I''ll talk! Just shut up, you sulmo!" Liam snickered like the gremlin he was. She hadn''t meant to, but she''d awoken poor Milo from his all-too-brief nap. The dog eyed her with an unforgiving side glance¡ªthis wasn''t the first they''d disturbed the canine with their infamous and frequent spats¡ªwhen he marched out of the room, tail hanging between his legs. "Look," Elaine said, exhaling, calming herself down, "there''s a reason every aspiring sorcerer wants to enroll in Glyph. It''s the most prestigious magic teaching institution in the entire country. It''s also notorious for its low acceptance rate. As far as I''m aware, there are only two surefire methods of scoring a position there. No, my mistake, there are three. The first is relatively simple: you need to be a noble. Goldblood families arrange special meetings or exams for their children to take. If they meet the requirements, then they are accepted then and there. And if they''re especially well off, they could just buy their way in. It''s one of the reasons why most of the student body is comprised of nobility. Additionally, since nobles are born with a higher amount of Essence, it means their probability of passing the Glyph Entrance Exam¡ªthe second of the three options¡ªis greater than lowborns like us."

    "If that''s the case," Liam asked, "then how come Ellend managed to get in?"

    "He didn''t simply get in, Liam. He was presented with an offer, a choice."

    "What? Now I''m even more confused..."

    "Well, if you''d let me finish," Elaine snapped, "then you''d know that it is also possible for one to get scouted."

    Liam squinted at her. "Scouted?"

    "Yeah, that''s right. If Glyph representatives witness your magical abilities in action, they will recommend to the higher-ups, or I guess, to be more specific, the headmaster, that you''re fit to attend the school. This is why I imagine that Ellend was chosen. Mention of his dueling skills must have reached the right people."

    "Right, right. And just so we''re clear, how did you learn all this? Did Ellend tell you?" An answer readied itself on the tip of her tongue, but Elaine bit her jaw closed before she could say anything. Sadly, her silence must have confirmed something inside Liam''s brain, or at least what accounted for his brain. "Oh! I get it. Very sneaky, sis."

    Elaine blushed. "Wh...What?!"

    "You were planning on enrolling into the academy too, weren''t you? You didn''t get scouted, so you wanted to take the Entrance Exam instead. Am I right, or am I right?"

    Elaine glared at him. I''ll give you credit, little brother. You''re not as stupid as I thought you were. Groaning, she sat forward in a slouch, cupping her chin between her hands.

    "So, why haven''t you told Ma and Pa? They''re sure to understand if you explain it to them."

    "No," Elaine muttered. "No, they would not."

    As far as she knew, her mother had always envisioned her completing her studies in potioncraft, diligently learning the art of blending herbs and mystical ingredients before eventually taking up her place in the family shop, the quaint little storefront that had been passed down through generations. Honestly, Elaine didn''t mind that idea too much; it felt fulfilling to think about supporting her family, ensuring that their legacy continued amidst the humble town of Page. However, deep down, she couldn''t deny the reality of her own aspirations¡ªthe ones that ignited a fire in her heart and made her feel truly alive.

    She adored magic in all its forms¡ªthe way it danced and glowed during a well-cast spell, the electric pulse that coursed through her veins when she successfully summoned light from the tip of a wand. Yes, she longed to be a sorcerer, not just any practitioner but a true Professional Sorcerer, mastering the mystic arts and discovering the depths of her power. The idea of weaving spells that could reshape reality was far more enticing than the meticulous preparation of potions and elixirs, and she yearned to forge her own path, one that would lead her into the heart of the magical world.

    Like Ellend, she faced a profound dilemma of her own. She grappled with the weight of her family''s expectations, which were firmly rooted in tradition and stability, versus the yearning to pursue her passion for art, a dream that painted vivid visions in her mind. A tempest of contradiction raged within her, manifesting as an internal struggle between the practicality of following a prescribed path¡ªone that promised security and respect¡ªand the intoxicating allure of her creative aspirations. As she sat in the living room, she couldn''t help but wonder which choice was truly the correct one. Was it wise to adhere to the legacy her family had built, or was choosing her own path the real mistake?

    The heavy footsteps that could have only belonged to her father echoed upstairs. Moments later, familiar figures flooded into the living room. Father entered first, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the polished wooden floor, followed closely by Mother, who had since changed into a more presentable gown out of respect for their unexpected visitors. Soon after, Headmaster Valerian strode in with an air of authority. Raze, a loyal presence, clung closely to the man like a shadow that refused to depart from the light.

    As Orion seated himself on the sofa across from her, Elaine felt her cheeks flush with warmth. Fritz, this sorcerer was undeniably striking. That debonair smile of his had a dangerous charm, one that could easily sweep hearts away. Time had transformed his features just as it would an exquisite bottle of wine, enhancing them with a rustic allure that spoke of wisdom and experience. His tousled hair caught the light, framing his face in a way that made him appear both unapproachable and inviting. And yet, beneath the polished veneer that came with noble birth, Elaine pondered the truth about attractiveness. It seemed so many nobles were blessed with beauty, at least on the outside, but she couldn¡¯t help but wonder what lay beneath their charming exteriors.

    Mother offered the men some tea¡ªOrion requested a cup, but Raze gave no response¡ªand hurried off to the kitchen. She attempted to hide it but Elaine identified the blatant concern as it broke apart her mother''s artificial emotions. Once the woman''s voice attuned to a higher pitch it made her facade all the more apparent. Father didn''t fare much better. He had assumed a slanted posture in the corner of the room, back against the wall¡ªbehind the sofa Orion was sitting in¡ªrepeatedly tapping his foot on the floor, hands crossed over his chest. When Mother returned with a tray of steaming tea and a plate of sugar buns, it was Orion who spoke, "I''m very appreciative of your hospitality. Honored am I to be your guest, humbled as well."

    "Thank you," said Mother, sheepish in her response.

    He blew on the tea and then took a sip. Elaine recognized the rich, fruity scent. It was jazmyne leaf, the kind that her mother favored the most. "Suffice to say, Young Ellend''s current predicament is...disheartening. He seems to be a bright lad, and he isn''t short of Essence either. If properly trained, I could very well see him becoming a great Professional Sorcerer."

    Elaine lowered her frown. "The Medical Mages told us that the only way to cure him is with a special healing elixir made from farroot."

    "I guessed as much," Orion replied, taking another sip. "Were any of you there to witness the duel?"

    "Only our daughter was," Father said from the corner. "It isn''t uncommon for Ellend to participate in duels. It''s sort of like a hobby for him. When news reached me about what happened, well, I..." Father trailed off, holding trembling fists at his sides.

    "It was difficult for all of us," Mother said, arriving at his aid, intertwining her arm with his. "We''re trying our best to move on, but Ellend, Aeris bless him, he''s a stubborn kid. We knew he had his heart set on practicing magic as a profession, but he never mentioned to us that one of yours had already scouted him."

    "Actually, that''s not entirely true," Elaine said, nervously raising her hand. "Ellend told me after the duel. I promised him I''d keep it a secret."

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    "What?" Mother gasped, wide-eyed. "You knew this entire time...?"

    "Like I said, I made him a promise. It isn''t like me to break them."

    Her father muttered something furious to himself. "And I presume you were also made aware of his...suggestion, weren''t you?"

    "Not until yesterday, actually," Elaine started. So, he told them after all.

    When Ellend had first proposed it to her, why, she didn''t know what to think. How was she expected to react? That she was to take his place at Glyph Academy? That someone like her, someone who could only cast one spell, someone who had never participated in a single sorcerer''s duel, that she was to...she was to...

    "It''s entirely absurd!" Her mother''s outcry earned a startled wince from Father, as well as an audible gasp from Liam. "Elaine, my daughter, has not once set foot outside of Page, nor does she have much experience casting magic. I understand the position you''re in, Headmaster Valerian. Truly, I do. But to have Elaine take his place? Honestly, my son wasn''t in his right mind when he concocted this...ridiculous compromise! They might just be students to you, but for me, they''re my children. My family. Can you really blame me for worrying about their safety in these dangerous times we live in? Just not long ago, another kidnapping report came in, and I''ve heard of the rogue sorcerers running amok in the Capital. Followers of that monster Dreyfus, no doubt. And here you are, insisting that my daughter abandons everything she''s ever known, all to attend a school meant for nobility. This is...this is just too much. I apologize, headmaster, but I simply cannot allow it."

    "We were barely on board with sending Ellend off to further his sorcery, to begin with," Father said, glaring. "I''m not sure if I''m exactly comfortable with this alternative either."

    Elaine had anticipated that reaction. From a realistic point of view, this could have only ended in one way. The strangers would leave, and return to their complicated world of magic and nobility. And she, well, she''d continue with her life as if nothing had even happened. Orion nodded, and he waited for the quietness in the room to simmer before he gently rested the teacup on the tray and spoke, "Clearly, this topic is a point of contention amongst you. I don''t fault either of you for harboring these worries. However, as tragic as Young Ellend''s condition is, there is, in fact, another reason I''ve ventured to your living space, Mr. and Mrs. Harwood. Yes, I was hoping to have your daughter take his place this semester, but, ultimately, the decision should be hers to make." Elaine gulped as he clashed his azure gaze¡ªserious and firm¡ªinto her, crossing his legs and leaning forward in his seat. "Let us unwind her Essence ourselves, shall we? Elaine Harwood."

    "Y...Yes, sir?" she uttered in a reluctant, shattered tone.

    "Ellend tells me you share his passion for practicing magic. According to him, you have a great aptitude for the mystic arts. But I do recognize not every person is the same. It''s what makes our species unique from the beasts and mongrals. Should it be the case that you have no real desire to attend my school, then I shall vacate the premises at once and never intrude upon your lives again. That is my promise to you. Once I step outside those doors, I''ll be gone forever. So, first and foremost, I need to hear your answer specifically. Would you like to be made a student of Glyph Academy, and study to be a Professional Sorcerer? Are you willing to¡ª"

    "I would!" Elaine blurted, not thinking a second longer. She glanced at her parents, absorbing their shocked, almost betrayed expressions, and then squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, she was staring directly at Headmaster Valerian. There was a satisfied smile on his face. "I want to study magic. I''ve wanted to for as long as I can remember."

    "Elaine!" Mother objected. "Are you even aware of what you''re saying?"

    "Glyph is a very competitive school," Father said, and Orion nodded at him in confirmation. "You''re not by any means as spineless as some of the other backwater folk around town, but I fret to wonder what kind of trials you''ll face there, how those goldblood...sorry, nobles would treat you. They can be especially ruthless towards outsiders. Given the chance, they just might¡ª"

    "My academy, I do profess, has its fair share of problems," Orion spoke up. "Problems I''m going to great lengths to rectify as proficiently as need be. But the staff and professors I''ve amassed there are some of the best in the business. I don''t appoint a person into my ranks unless I''m fully confident that they are the right sorcerer for the job. If it''s your daughter''s safety you''re concerned for, then I guarantee that she''ll be well-protected."

    "A guarantee? You think that''ll make me feel any better?!" Mother snapped. "Elaine, what do you hope to gain by doing this? Serving as a Professional Sorcerer. Putting your life on the line. Some men and women I know from this very town had their minds set on sorcery and joining the Arcanum. None of them are alive today." The woman rested a hand over her face and turned away. Nevertheless, Elaine could hear her voice break in half as tears puddled inside her green eyes. "I don''t get it...the world has enough heroes...enough sorcerers," she sniffed, Father pulling her into his comforting embrace. "You don''t need to be one of them..."

    "Mom," Elaine replied softly, trying to remain strong, solid. "It isn''t just about being a Professional Sorcerer. If I go to that academy, I''ll be able to hone my magical capabilities. I could use them to help you in the shop, and I''m sure we''d get more customers once news gets out that a Professional Sorcerer is stationed here. On top of all that, if I master Abjuration, I might be able to heal Ellend back to normal, without needing to spend a single token."

    Of course, every word of her rambling rationalization had been taken from Ellend himself. This was his reasoning, this was his plan. She''d be a sorcerer that could fix everything. As much as she didn''t like the idea herself, she really was the answer to all of their problems. Well, assuming her studies went well, and, most importantly, if her folks permitted her to attend at all. That tear-stained grimace her mother bore wasn''t very encouraging.

    "Before we move on, sir, I''d think now would be appropriate to address another discussion." That was the first she''d heard Raze say anything. He spoke in a low pitch, each of his words as rigid as a cliff, and he had cut into their conversation with all the elegance of a rune sword slicing through stone. "As much as we''d like to put this proceeding to rest, I must remind you that students, regardless of their aptitude, or lack thereof, are expected to take the Entrance Exam."

    Orion exhaled through his nostrils. "The Entrance Exam that has already passed. Yes, yes, of course..."

    "It''d be unfair to the other students who were already accepted to have to take the exam again on account of one candidate, wouldn''t you agree?"

    "Yes..."

    "And considering we are at the cusp of a new semester, I doubt our professors would have the time to organize, conduct, and oversee a separate exam."

    "Yes, once again, you are correct, Raze."

    This was...depressing. Perhaps she was too hasty in her original assessment. Raze didn''t remind her of a skeleton, not anymore. He was more so akin to a vampire, one that sucked every ounce of excitement and vitality from its host, as evidenced by how Orion slumped further and further into his seat with each of Raze''s sullen statements. Gone was the confident, white-collard headmaster. Now, he looked like a child who had just been scolded by their parents. Liam had worn that very same expression, Elaine was fairly certain.

    Raze moaned. "Your irrationality has no bounds, sir." Elaine started as the man stepped to the table between herself and Orion. He pulled out several items from inside his cape, resting each in a line on top of the table, one after the other. "Luckily for me, I foresaw this very occurrence."

    "Raze, you devil!" Orion exclaimed, rekindling his forsaken optimism with a laugh. "I can always count on you!"

    Raze pinched his forehead with a hand. "Sadly, such is this case, sir."

    "What is all of this?" Mother asked. She had gotten rid of her tears, however, portions of her red cheeks were still wet.

    "This," Raze answered, cutting his sharp stare towards Elaine, "is her test. A bit unorthodox, I must admit, but the best I could put together given the particular nature of our circumstances."

    "A test?" Elaine repeated.

    "It''d be unwise to permit you into the academy without first inspecting your skill for magic ourselves."

    "Think of it as an aptitude test, so to speak," Orion said, holding a finger. "Nothing too difficult or complex. In fact, this is how we evaluate some of the nobles who, err, are unable, or unwilling, to take the Entrance Exam properly."

    Raze coughed into a closed fist. "So much for confidentiality."

    Elaine stared at the five items on the table. Her eyes paused on each for a good handful of moments before moving on to the next, sluggishly working her way down the line. Liam tried to snatch one of them, but Elaine swatted away his hand before he was given the chance. "What do you want me to do?"

    "This test is called Eye of the Beholder." Orion gestured to the bizarre display in front of him. "All but one of these trinkets have been imbued with magical properties. Your job: separate the enchanted from the rest and present it to me."

    "Is she allowed to use a wand or a spell?" Liam asked.

    "That won''t be necessary," Orion reassured him. "Well, then. Whenever you''re ready, Young Elaine."

    An Entrance Exam? In her own house? How unorthodox, indeed. But, they were giving her a chance to prove herself. She couldn''t afford to pass this up. Drawing a breath, Elaine began her inspection, examining the odd ensemble of items with a focused squint, attempting to see if she could spot any hidden details.

    The first in line was a carved wooden toy resembling a feline, its body crafted from a rich, dark mahogany. Its features were exaggerated and menacing, with large, sharp fangs protruding from its mouth and claws that resembled the unforgiving edges of a blade, splayed out as if ready to pounce. Elaine suspected it was modeled after the peculiar breed of feral cats she had read about in the shadowy depths of the Eastern Jungles. A vibrant ruby, polished to a gleaming shine, was embedded deep into the crevices of its skull, and as she shifted her gaze, she noticed a faint, pulsing glow emanating from it¡ªa telltale sign that it might be an enchanted item. Next to the feline stood an odd mechanism. At first glance, it appeared to be a simple pair of scissors, but upon closer inspection, she noticed that their curved shears hindered their functionality. They looked almost whimsical, yet their design suggested a purpose long forgotten¡ªperhaps an ancient tool used in some esoteric craft that required precision yet was ill-suited for practical use.

    Beside the scissors was a stone statue depicting a fearsome dragon coiled around a tall, imposing tower. The craftsmanship was exquisite, with each scale chiseled to perfection, giving the illusion of movement. The dragon''s body twisted around the tower multiple times, its elongated, serpentine form creating a sense of both power and containment. Despite its inanimate nature, Elaine dared not meet the creature''s petrified gaze, which was hauntingly alive with its slit-shaped pupils, as if the stone eyes were observing her every move. Dragons, she knew, were dangerous beasts, capable of unfathomable destruction. In many lands, these fire-breathing creatures thrived in vast colonies, each species exhibiting its own unique characteristics in size and temperament. What havoc would a furnace of dragons wreak if it were to ever approach Incante?

    Each of the items was unique and fascinating in its own way. All except for perhaps the unassuming rock sitting beside the sculpted dragon statue. It was a wunderstone, from the looks of it¡ªa term she had grown familiar with during her studies with Ellend. These stones, remnants of an enormous asteroid that had collided with the continent during the epoch known as the First Suns, were renowned for their distinct turquoise hue, glimmering faintly even in dim light.

    She recalled her lessons vividly: these remarkable stones held an uncanny capacity to absorb magical energy, storing it safely within their crystalline cores. Allegedly, the majority of arcanetech devices being developed today rely on the stored energy of these stones, making them invaluable to advancing magical technology. Yet, this particular rock seemed almost dull in comparison to the artifacts surrounding it¡ªits surface was smooth but lacked any of the glistening allure that typically characterized even the simplest of magical objects.

    Liam certainly didn¡¯t find it impressive either, his expression one of boredom as he recoiled from the pebble. He leaned closer to examine the shimmering vial next to it. But there was something about this ordinary-looking rock that intrigued her, more than she could explain. It felt as if there was an unseen force drawing her in, magnetically tugging at the very fabric of her existence, stirring a curiosity that transcended mere fascination.

    Elaine hesitated, her fingers hovering just above the stone, contemplating the decision before her. Was this the right choice? Was she being too hasty in her desire to grasp it? Perhaps she should take a moment to reassess the other items once more¡ªafter all, there might be something that she had overlooked, waiting patiently for her to discover it. But she wouldn''t discount her emotions. She took a sweep of the room, glancing at her parents¡ªworriedly staring right back at her¡ªLiam, who was more so distracted by the dragon statue than anything, and then at Orion Valerian. The headmaster, the sorcerer.

    Whatever fate had in store for her, this decision would assuredly seal it. Exhaling, Elaine leaned to the table and touched the wunderstone. The moment she did, a brilliant, scorching light engulfed the room, consuming all that there was.

 Chapter 4 - A Piece of Me

    Wunderstones.

    When charged with magic, the cores of the rocks would spark to life, emanating pulses of energy that illuminated the otherwise muted turquoise surfaces with an ethereal gleam. These rare artifacts were not merely decorative; they possessed the extraordinary capability to power advanced arcanetech devices¡ªthough Elaine remained uncertain about the intricate mechanisms behind such applications. Their rarity was matched only by their value, often fetching hundreds of tokens in the marketplace.

    Despite having read about these remarkable stones in tomes and catching fleeting glimpses of them nestled among wares in the market stalls during her errands, this moment marked Elaine''s first experience witnessing one glow. Were they always this luminous? In an instant, the rock on the table erupted in brilliance, turquoise-tinted rays flowing like liquid light, flooding the air around it. Its brightness was so intense that it compelled everyone in the room, from Headmaster Valerian to his peculiar assistant, to shield their eyes. Oddly enough, Elaine had yet to peel her sights off of it, and it took Liam tugging her forcefully on her arm and Milo''s barks¡ªlow-pitched snaps hammering off to her right¡ªfor Elaine to regather her senses. Gasping, she plucked her hand away from the wunderstone. As she did, the light beaming out of its core ceased. It was a normal rock once more. Elaine touched her forehead, collapsing back onto the couch, feeling faint. Her breathing was heavy, her heart pounded heatedly against her chest, distracting tingles poked at the skin like splinters. It was as if...as if she''d just cast a spell.

    "Impressive," said Orion. Despite him rubbing his eyes, blinking them rapidly as to readjust his vision, the man seemed enthralled. He openly welcomed an amazed smile, and he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "You''d be surprised at how many candidates I''ve watched fail that very same test. Don''t be fooled; most would not have done what you just did."

    Elaine stared at him. "Pardon...?"

    "Tell me," he said, "what drew you to the wunderstone? Usually, their worth is determined by how brightly they shine. But this one was drained, having nothing left to offer anyone. It might as well be an ordinary rock, and some might argue it has no place with the rest of this fine collection, treasures originating from the five corners of Althea. Nevertheless, you chose the wunderstone. Why?"

    "I...I can''t say," Elaine admitted, scratching her nape. "It felt...right somehow. Like the stone was calling to me. There was a hint of...I don''t know, something. A tiny voice trying to get out."

    "The Eye of the Beholder," Raze said, a taut gargoyle standing next to the headmaster. "Long ago, when sorcerers and magic were new to Incante, they were ostracized, feared. The ruling forces used wunderstones like this one to snuff out the mages hiding within their kingdoms, hoping to capture and execute them before they could spread Bedlam."

    Elaine shuddered. She wasn''t an avid historian, especially when compared to Ellend. When she was younger, she always found history boring, thousands of words rambling on and on for endless pages, talking about that of which she cared very little about. Nowadays, she''d sneak into Ellend''s room to steal some of the texts from his personal library. Her mother did have a point; not once had Elaine left town. Page was all that she knew. Ignorant was she of what all transpired past its borders. When not eavesdropping on fractions of conversations coming from the mouths of travelers or scanning the tabloids for something, anything, interesting, she''d resort to the knowledge in her brother''s texts. During the Early Centuries, magic was commonly perceived as evil. Some countries even outlawed the practice of magic. Back then, Elaine wondered if there were also persons who aspired to be sorcerers, even if the rest of the world forbade it. Did they ever wonder if an Era of Magic could even be possible?

    "I always find it humorously ironic how the symbol of death for many innocent mages is now used to recognize skillful sorcerers," Orion chuckled. "In any case, Elaine Harwood. I''m happy to announce that you''ve passed the test."

    Orion stood up, turning to face her parents, who were still recovering from the sudden light show. "That there should be adequate evidence, don''t you think? Your daughter, she does have the potential to be a Professional Sorcerer."

    Mother shook her head, dazed. "W...What? How does this prove...?"

    "It should be highlighted," Raze intruded, "the brighter the wunderstone''s core burns, the greater amount of Essence that sorcerer possesses. Your daughter, she nearly scorched my eyes out." Elaine winced as he shot a crooked glare her way, but he only released an exhale out of his scowl. "As absurd as it sounds," Raze went on, "this rock proves that she has talent. Talent that should be groomed accordingly."

    "Now hang on a minute," Father objected, marching right into Raze''s face. For a brief moment, Elaine was worried he would assault the man. Ellend did inherit his abrasiveness from somewhere, after all. "I don''t care what the damned stone says! You''re not taking my daughter anywhere, not if I can help it."

    To her surprise, neither of the sorcerers did anything. Orion snapped his fingers, and Raze hurried to collect the items, including the wunderstone, off the table. Elaine wasn''t entirely confident about how he managed to store them all inside of his cape. "As we said," Orion began, "it is entirely her choice. We didn''t come here to start a fight, nor do we have any intention of splitting a family apart. This test, as I see it, was merely a means of clarifying if your daughter has a place at my academy. As far as I''m concerned, she most definitely does. That being the case, as her parents, I suppose you have the final say-so. Regardless of my opinion, we will not overrule your authority and will respect your decision, whatever it may be." The tail of his coat flapped as he started for the door, Raze falling into step behind him. "Today has been...taxing for us all. I suspect you might need some time to mull it over. We will return tomorrow morning for an answer."

    "Wait," Elaine called, leaping off the couch and charging after them. She caught Orion with his hand on the door handle. He looked over his shoulder at her. Were his eyes...glowing? "Was that enough? A simple test like that?" Footsteps scuttled to a stop behind her, soft and small; it was her mother. But Elaine continued, "You haven''t seen me cast any spells or how good I am at regulating my magic or¡ª"

    Orion raised his finger. "I''ve seen everything I had to. Rest well, Young Elaine." With that, Orion strode outside, pulling the door closed with a thud. The house was then slowly drenched by a weighted quietness, save for Milo''s whimpering¡ªhis eyes were more than likely still flaring from the wunderstone''s blinding light.

    *

    * *

    "Are you positive this is what you want to do?" Elaine released an uncertain breath, and then she took a glance at the photograph in her hands. The young, brown-haired woman looked almost identical to her mother, save for a couple of details. A sharper nose, rounder face, brighter eyes. But their beauty, that was a quality both the twins shared. Her mother didn''t like mentioning Delilah that often. It was a sore spot for her, anchoring her past with misery. That pain was potent. It ate at the nerves, tested one''s sanity. To lose a sister, and at such an early age. It wasn''t surprising that she was overly reluctant about sending off her only daughter to face an uncertain destiny.

    Nevertheless, Elaine was resolute, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She held fears of her own¡ªdeep-seated anxieties that prickled at her like thorns. The thought of adapting to the lavish lifestyle of an academy befitting a noble''s splendor filled her with doubt. What if Orion had made a mistake after all? What if she truly wasn''t as talented in magic as Ellend believed her to be? Questions raced through her like shadows in a darkened room. What would become of her then, cast aside like a withered leaf?

    She had a million reasons to reject Headmaster Valerian''s prestigious offer, each one a sturdy link in the chain of her hesitance. Yet, beneath the weight of her uncertainties, there remained a single, solid reason why she wouldn''t turn away from this opportunity: discovery. It loomed before her like a majestic beast, fierce and untamed, akin to a land dragon that had gone feral. An inherent threat that demanded her curiosity and focus, enveloping her in a thrilling sense of danger. Elaine knew she loved magic¡ªshe could feel it pulsating through her veins like a living entity. She aspired to be a Professional Sorcerer, not only to support her family and lift them from the oppressive weight of their financial struggles, but also to satisfy that fervent, unquenchable itch that had haunted her from childhood. That insatiable desire to explore the depths of the mystic arts and unravel the mysteries of magic beckoned her closer, urging her to take the leap into the unknown.

    Elaine sighed to herself, then she spent a peek over at her mother. She was sitting right beside her on the edge of the unmade bed. There seemed to be a lot the woman was contemplating. Those distant eyes focused on the floorboards, and her lips quivered like she was on the cusp of uttering a word. It toyed with Elaine''s patience. If she had something to say, then just say it. Why keep it in? But then, another revelation struck her. She''d be going off to Glyph Academy. This would be the last night she''d spend inside her room. That is if everything went according to plan...

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    She scanned the familiar setting, her gaze lingering on the deep purple rug that cloaked the aged wood floor. Atop the bedside table, a brass lamp glinted softly, casting warm shadows on the surface where two thick fairytale novels lay side by side¡ªtattered and dog-eared, remnants of her mother¡¯s nightly storytelling rituals during her childhood. Each page turned had woven a thread of enchantment into her young heart, making it impossible to part with them, despite the dusty memories they held. Across the room, the half-opened closet revealed a chaotic array of stale, dated dresses and clothing, their once-bright colors faded and their fabrics heavy with years of neglect. The scent of mothballs lingered, mingling with the fresh, sweet evening breeze that danced through the window. As she sat there, a bittersweet farewell washed over her. The sadness of potentially leaving it all behind tugged at her heartstrings, yet it was the thrill of discovery that pulsed more intensely beneath the surface. What else lay hidden within Incante, waiting for her to uncover? What wonders and adventures awaited her beyond this cherished room? The promise of the unknown thrummed louder than ever, urging her to embrace the future.

    "If you''re doing this for us, Elaine, then you needn''t have to," Mother said, hands on her lap. "Our potion shop is going through a rough patch; I''d be one of the Eight Fools if I couldn''t tell that much. But despite the hardships we''ve constantly faced, us Harwoods always manage to pull ourselves out of the mud and make something with the wreckage."

    Elaine nodded. "I know."

    "So, if you feel pressured into doing this for our sakes, then daughter I¡ª"

    "I love...every single one of you. Even Liam, though I do wish you''d dump him back in the manticore pit you found him in. And I''d be overjoyed if my Professional Sorcerer career could benefit you somehow. The thing is, I also want to study magic because, well, to be frank, it''s my dream. Potion making and babysitting and fetching fruits from the marketplace. That''s not me. I want to explore the rest of Incante and see what else is out there. I want to use my magic to help others. I want to find out...why Aeris gave me this Gift in the first place. I''m aware of how unreasonable I can get, Mother. I know I''m probably way in over my head. But, at the very least, I want to try." Her mother withdrew a breath and said nothing. The urticating silence caused Elaine to profess, "It''s like the headmaster said: You have to make the final decision. But if you and Father truly are against the idea, then I''ll do as you say."

    "No," her mother denied, shaking her head. "I could never live with myself if I kept you from chasing your dreams, even if I can''t comprehend them. Then again, I couldn''t quite understand her either." Elaine gazed intently at the photograph alongside her mother, both lost in memories. The image captured the smiling woman dressed in her unmistakable Strix uniform. This high-collared, dark blue robe flowed elegantly to the ground, contrasting with a long-sleeved, purple-colored shirt and fitted long pants, highlighting her strong figure. Sturdy black boots, worn yet polished, completed the outfit while above her heart, the golden sun-shaped emblem of the Arcanum shimmered brilliantly, representing a legacy of magic and honor. In the backdrop, their quaint cottage stood, its charming wooden frame and blooming garden evoking a sense of warmth and nostalgia for the home where Elaine and her family had woven countless memories together. "My parents couldn''t change her mind, and the people in town thought her insane. But she proved them all wrong. She became a high-ranking member of the Arcanum. And she paid with her life for it..." A grim reality. An unsettling reminder. Most Professional Sorcerers, whether affiliated with the Arcaunum or the Military, didn''t live past forty. It was by no means a spotless profession. "I see that same spark in you that she had. There''s nothing I can do to trap it, no matter how hard I try. Elaine, if this is the path you''re set on walking, I will support you in any way I can."

    Elaine, relieved and partially surprised that that was her answer, welcomed her mother''s embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around the woman''s waist. "And Father?"

    "He''ll get over it," she said, stroking rivers of blonde hair. "But you''ll have to promise me something."

    "Okay."

    "That regardless of what they teach you in that academy, you won''t ever lose sight of what''s most important. That you''ll come home to your family."

    Elaine nodded, determined not to disappoint her. Disappoint any of them. "That I can do."

    *

    * *

    Orion Valerian had kept good of his word, and the day had arrived. The morning sun cast long shadows across the grassy front yard as Elaine stood nervously, shifting from side to side. Before her was Headmaster Valerian himself, alongside his stern assistant, whose expression could have curdled fresh milk. Her father had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, muscles tense, and his scowl was an unsettling sight; it was the kind of look that could send even the fiercest creatures scurrying into hiding. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes darted between Elaine and the headmaster, a mixture of worry and disapproval etched across his features. Despite her mother¡¯s persuasive words that had seemingly swayed him to allow Elaine to pursue her studies at Glyph, his deep-seated frustrations were apparent.

    In contrast, Ellend exuded an air of delight that seemed to brighten the whole yard. Seated in his wheelchair, his face lit up with a beaming smile that stretched from one cheek to the other. After all, his carefully laid plans had finally borne fruit¡ªElaine was going to embark on her first semester at Glyph Academy, a dream she had nurtured for years. Beside him, Orion was engaged in enthusiastic conversation, nodding along with Ellend¡¯s animated tales and occasionally shooting supportive glances toward Elaine. She wished she could hear what he was telling the sorcerer.

    "So, you''re really going, are you?" Liam asked cautiously. Milo wasn''t with them as he was often reluctant around strangers. Orion and Raze were no exception. She had made sure to say her farewells to him, however. Giving him an entire five-minute belly rub as he squirmed in contentment on the floor. She''d miss that grumpy, sleep-ridden pooch. Liam, on the other hand...

    Elaine dropped into a crouch. Before the young boy could protest, she swallowed him into her hug, relentlessly constricting him as if she were a frilled python that hadn''t eaten in months. She felt his blush like a spot of heat against the side of her face. "No tears for me, little bro? You''re not going to be able to pester me anymore."

    "Elaine! Let go!" he squealed. With a chuckle, she granted his request, the boy stumbling away, arms raised in front of him. "For your information, I couldn''t be happier. With you gone, it means Ma and Pa have more time to devote to my every need. I see this as a win-win."

    Elaine rolled her eyes. "Right, of course. By the way, don''t think I haven''t figured it out."

    "Hmm? What are you on about now?"

    Elaine leaned closer to him so that nobody could hear her whisper, "Ellend organized my enrollment with the Glyph representatives. Surely, he would have constantly communicated with them via letters and such. But I have to wonder, who was it that ran his mail to the Falcon Masters? Reckon it might be Milo?"

    Whenever Liam was caught red-handed in a crime, he was just so terrible at hiding his guilt. He awkwardly began scratching behind his neck, trying to quell his cheeks''s redness. "I...erm...I don''t know what you''re talking about..."

    "Guess that explains why you''ve been so drowsy lately."

    "El!" Liam spat. "If you dare¡ª"

    "Relax. Your secret is safe with me," Elaine grinned, ruffling his light-brown hair. "Watch over them for me while I''m gone, all right?"

    "Yeah, yeah. I''m on it," Liam groaned. "And...uh, good luck, I guess."

    "Aww, you do care about me!"

    "Forget it! You''re so surgin'' annoying!" Liam yelled, angrily marching in the direction of the cottage.

    "Headmaster," announced Raze. "The train will be departing soon. If we want to keep on schedule, I suggest we start making our way to the station."

    "Yes, yes. I''m coming," Orion said, striding over to him.

    Mother and Father trailed after him, and Elaine shared a family hug with them both, knowing full well it''d be the last one for quite a while. "Be safe, my daughter," Father said in that gravelly tone, the beard sprouting on his chin and itching her neck like tiny thorns.

    "I''ll be fine," she said. "I can handle myself."

    "I know you can. You''ve got the blood of a powerful sorcerer in you. Nevertheless, don''t lower your guard. You''re stepping into a brand new world. Try not to let your excitement distract you from...danger."

    Mother swatted him on the shoulder. "Oh, leave her be."

    "What? I''m just saying¡ª"

    "We didn''t raise a sulmo; she''ll find her way just fine."

    Elaine smiled. I''ll try to, at least...

    "Hey, El. Got something for you." She recognized Ellend''s voice anywhere, and the sound of the rubber wheels of his wheelchair grew louder as he rolled right up to her. He was holding something. "Thought this might come in handy."

    He held it out to her. His most cherished possession. Proof that he was, indeed, a sorcerer. His wand. Elaine hesitated, perplexity cascading on her face. "Ellend..." she said, aghast. "I can''t¡ª"

    "You will," he affirmed. "Last I checked, you don''t have a wand, do you? They''re surgin'' expensive, trust me. Even a Common Wand like mine. With this, you won''t have to waste precious tokens."

    "But...I¡ª"

    "Take it," he grinned in his chair. "A piece of me, to bring along with you on your journey. I''m too impatient. I want to visit Glyph Academy as soon as possible, in one way or the other."

    Elaine''s voice was trembling, but she took his wand and said, "This will only be temporary, brother. I''ll return it to you once I get my own."

    "Whatever makes you feel better, sis," Ellend shrugged.

    "Mother, Father," Elaine said, paying a nod to them each. "I''ll make you both proud."

    Her emotions swelled with an exuberant thrill, a mixture of excitement and trepidation that filled her chest to the brim. Elaine felt the tears starting to geyser, pooling at the corners of her eyes, and so she turned her back to her family, not wanting them to see her struggle. If she gave in to the soggy temptation, if she allowed herself to pour out her emotions here and now, she feared she might abandon her intentions and choose to stay in Page forever. No, she had to be strong. They believed in her, and so she had to muster that same belief in herself.

    With a determined grip, she clasped the strap of her satchel, feeling its familiar weight against her side, while the suitcase made a soft thud as it bumped across the uneven soil trail behind her. Each step forward resonated with the resolve burning brightly inside her heart. She waved at her family for a final time, forcing a smile onto her lips as she absorbed the image of the white-stoned, nostalgic cottage¡ªits ivy-clad walls and rose-laden garden¡ªinto her memory. This place, filled with laughter and love, would always have a piece of her heart, but now she was ready to embrace the unknown that lay ahead.

    The girl left, following Orion and Raze as they led her¡ªtheir clothes billowing in a breeze that swept the glades¡ªinto the future. Her future.

 Chapter 5 - The Most Important Step

    After a full day of travel, the endless flat plains of the countryside stretched out before her, a rich portrait interwoven with vivid shades of green. Occasionally, gentle hills rolled in the distance, their slopes carpeted with wildflowers that danced in the soft breeze, while quaint cottages dotted the landscape with their thatched roofs and curling smoke from chimneys. Dark, sprawling forests loomed far off, their towering trees standing sentinel against the vast sky. Yet, amidst this picturesque panorama, Elaine felt a tug at her heart for something more. Her eyes yearned for a touch of contrast, an unexpected glimpse of vibrant color, or an unusual shape¡ªa tiny sliver of novelty to break the monotony of the serene scenery. She wanted something different.

    Perhaps she''d gotten her hopes up too high? Was that even possible? A country girl leaving her town for the first time in her life, and she was already bored on just the first day of her journey alone. Page was located in the southern region of the country, close to the border that distinguished Incante from its much larger neighbor, Ekenthall. From what she knew about Glyph Academy¡ªthere wasn''t much¡ªthey still had quite a lengthy trek ahead of them. They''d have to venture further into the heart of Incante, near Beckam City but not too close to the Capital. Elaine counted four, maybe five more days of...of this, and her spirits dulled. She slunk deeper into her plush seat, her head supported on the back of her palm, a long sigh escaping her lips. The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels on the steel tracks formed a soothing backdrop to her thoughts. At the very least, she was grateful for the opportunity to travel in style, cocooned in the rich mahogany interior of the first-class carriage.

    Father often shared tales of his own journeys to procure supplies for their family shop, lamenting the discomfort of the cramped compartments filled with restless and loud passengers. Now, settled into her luxuriously padded chair, she couldn''t help but compare his accounts. Sure enough, it took her a while to adapt to the constant jerking and gentle bumps as the locomotive hurried along its winding path. Each dip and rise seemed to challenge her composure, a reminder of the train''s powerful momentum. Yet, those minor inconveniences paled in comparison to the indulgence of the plush fabric enveloping her, the soft humming of the engine, and the view outside the broad, cleaned windows, where lush green fields blurred past like a painter''s brushstrokes on a canvas. This brief escape was more than a journey; it was a moment of opulence that promised adventure, untethered from the familiar routine of her life.

    Their booth was adorned with a long strip of plush crimson-colored carpet, rich in texture and vibrancy, perfectly coordinating with the chairs aligned on either side of the sleek cart. Above, ceiling lights cast a warm glow throughout the space, emitting white-colored rays through complexly designed hexagonal glass fixtures that resembled a honeycomb. And Elaine couldn¡¯t help but notice how the temperature was consistently maintained at the perfect setting, neither too warm nor too cool. She wondered if the train¡ªor rather, this exquisite booth¡ªwas equipped with an advanced arcanetech climate control device, a marvel of magical engineering that ensured a comfortable atmosphere for passengers.

    There were also these peculiar tables¡ªtiny circular platforms, no larger than a dinner plate¡ªimbued with an enchantment that made them float independently in midair. Each hovering table was adorned with an array of delightful snacks: vibrant macarons in pastel hues, bite-sized fruit tarts glistening with fresh berries, and dainty cookies shaped like whimsical creatures. Elaine didn''t recognize any of the treats, their colors and shapes exotic and unfamiliar, yet she was more than willing to sample a few. With just a snap of her fingers, one of the tables responded instantly, gliding gracefully toward her as if eager to present its miniature buffet.

    She''d become queasy within the first hour of the trip. The vibrant spread of hors d''oeuvres, each more enticing than the last, had lured her like a moth to a flame. Colorful canap¨¦s adorned with delicate sprigs of herbs, satiny cheeses paired with tangy jams, and pastry rolls shinning like lost treasures under the soft glow of the chandeliers. Enraptured, Elaine didn¡¯t hesitate to dive in, stuffing her face with various foreign flavors and textures. Little did she know that indulging in so many decadent bites all at once would soon lead to a burning in her stomach. If only Orion had warned her about the perils of such indulgence, she mused; perhaps she could have savored the evening without discomfort. If only.

    Having grown annoyingly accustomed to the sights past her cabin''s window, Elaine grabbed a tabloid resting in the empty seat beside her¡ªshe had caught Orion reading it earlier. On its front page, the newspaper''s article concerned a recent kidnapping in the Capital. Another one? Elaine thought, frowning.

    Lines of text molded around a particular photograph¡ªthe kind enchanted to move¡ªdisplaying a bald, tan-skinned man with an angular face, bright green eyes, and a scar forking around his bottom lip. Elaine discerned the name "Douglas Cutter" numerous times amidst the story. He looked to be the prime suspect responsible for the kidnappings, a member of the notorious Serpent Fang Syndicate. Elaine recognized their emblem imprinted onto his robust shoulder¡ªa severed snake head bearing knife-like fangs from its unhinged jaw. Elaine winced as Douglas, no, the moving photo of Douglas, scowled directly at her from inside the picture frame. This version was imprisoned, but the real criminal was still out there. Lurking in the shadows.

    "It''s only getting worse," Raze said abruptly, sitting across from her. He''d been so quiet she had forgotten he''d ever been there. "A sorcerer with dark intentions isn''t someone we can ignore. And Douglas isn''t even the worst of his kin."

    Elaine attempted a grin. "Let''s just hope the Military can capture him soon."

    "Doubt it," Raze replied unaffectionately. "Though it''s grown, their State Sorcerer Division comprises only a fraction of their ranks. It''ll take more than some rifles and wands to take out a pack of rogue sorcerers. No, that''s where the Arcanum comes in handy."

    Though both the Incantian Military and the Arcanum directly served under His Royal Majesty, they operated as entirely separate entities with distinct missions and responsibilities. The Military primarily focused on preserving peace and order throughout the country, safeguarding it from external invaders and internal threats posed by national terrorists. Their extensive training in traditional warfare techniques and tactics ensured that they could swiftly respond to any hostile incursions. Although they maintained a formidable corps of State Sorcerers, their involvement in magical matters was limited, as they preferred to handle conflicts relying on conventional means.

    In contrast, the Arcanum emerged from humble beginnings as a small, deferential guild dedicated to the practice of magic, enlisting the services of skilled Professional Sorcerers who specialized in various mystical arts. Over time, this guild evolved into a significant armed force, playing a crucial role in Incante''s defense against supernatural threats. Instead of conventional weaponry like rifles and cannons, the sorcerers of the Arcanum wielded their wands and executed powerful spells that could alter the very fabric of reality. This transformation did not occur overnight; it was the result of years of practice, extensive training in arcane knowledge, and the gradual accumulation of both power and prestige within the realm of sorcery. The coexistence of these two entities, each focusing on their distinct areas of expertise, highlighted the complexity of governance in a country where magic and martial prowess were equally vital.

    In response to the alarming surge of sorcerer-related crimes plaguing the nation, coupled with a formidable revolt spearheaded by a clandestine faction of dark sorcerers¡ªoften referred to as warlocks¡ªthe government had no choice but to take decisive action. This led to the announcement of a strategic collaboration with the Military and the Arcanum, aiming to restore peace and safeguard the realm of Incante from these formidable threats. Under the esteemed leadership of The Radiant Sorcerer, Ark Regaleo, the Arcanum was formally recognized by the king as an official and legitimate entity. Though the Military still boasted a significantly larger force, the Arcanum''s role was critical during this tumultuous Era of Magic. The presence of the Arcanum had not only enhanced the Military''s capabilities with their unique magical prowess but also signified a turning point in how sorcery was perceived by the wider populace, emphasizing its potential for protection rather than only destruction. The collaboration marked a pivotal moment in the kingdom¡¯s history, intertwining the destinies of sorcerers and soldiers in their shared quest for Incante''s safety and stability.

    "So how about it?" asked Raze. When she hadn''t replied to him¡ªnot quite understanding what he was referring to¡ªhe further elaborated, "What I mean is, have you ever considered joining the Arcanum yourself?"

    Elaine hesitated. "M...Me? Join the Arcanum?"

    "Yes," Raze said dryly. "I belive that''s what I had asked."

    "No...erm, I don''t know. Right now, I really just want to go into a profession that will help my family the most." Elaine nodded, content. That sounded right. "Being a Professional Sorcerer pays, doesn''t it? For now, my main goal should be graduating from Glyph in general, I think."

    She could never read Raze''s plain expressions. To her reply, however, he looked to be...unsatisfied. His lips drew compactly into a line, and he exhaled a snort. "That''s pretty vague, don''t you think? A Professional Sorcerer can refer to any number of things. When it was that I left my hometown I was...around your age, I believe. Back then, I had set my mind to that goal, as well."

    "And you became the headmaster''s assistant?"

    "No. I was stuck as a lowly-paid enchanter at a pawn shop in the Capital, living in a rat-infested apartment alone and unfulfilled." Elaine had to shut her mouth quickly, lest she longed to bark her loud gasp directly at him. "Now, do you get where I''m coming from? It isn''t enough to say you want to be a Professional Sorcerer. What is your most concrete desire? What are you most passionate about?"

    "That''s easy: Magic. I''ve always been obsessed with it, even as a little girl. So by the time I''m made a real sorcerer, I want to know as much about magic as I can," Elaine declared almost instantly. This, however, didn''t seem to appease the man either.

    "That''s a bit better, I suppose. You''ve got the Essence of a griffin; free, eager to soar the world. But it''s beneficial to have a solid idea of where exactly one intends to steer their life. May that be a Strix or State Sorcerer, an enchanter or a Medical Mage. An immovable foundation is just as crucial as an unbreakable will. Tell me, do you know the most important step a sorcerer can take? The step that will define the rest of their journey?"

    Elaine said nothing as she thoroughly contemplated his question in her mind. The most important step a sorcerer can take?

    "Oh, quit pestering the girl," Orion said, striding over to them, completely unaffected by the constant bumps the train made. Some heads turned wherever he went¡ªhigh-classed noblewomen dressed in puffy dresses and hats. Even amongst the nobility, Orion managed to be the center of attention. Had the man cast a spell on himself, or was he just that naturally alluring?

    "They are relative matters to address, are they not, sir? Surely you would agree that students are better off deciding on what they want from the get-go."

    "I do, I do," Orion nodded. "As always, Raze, you bring up lovely points. Alternatively, though, I also believe that a student, regardless of whether or not they have the finer details regarding their futures figured out, should nevertheless enjoy their years of adolescence. Those are precious years you won''t ever get back. Believe you me, Young Elaine. If there were a spell that could turn back the clock, I''d cast it in a heartbeat. So many things I could change, so many mistakes to fix."

    Raze shrugged. "If you don''t mind my saying, sir, that sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."

    The headmaster pouted. "Come now, Raze. Where''s your sense of imagination? We''re sorcerers. We have the power to alter reality to our will." As if to prove his point, Orion snapped his fingers, and one of the floating tables arrived a second later. "You see?" he said, swiping a biscuit. "It''d do you well to broaden your horizon."

    "I''ll keep that in mind, sir."

    "Argh, now do you understand what I''m working with?" Orion complained to Elaine, swinging the hand holding the half-eaten biscuit at Raze. "You''d hardly believe he was a Professional Sorcerer. Let alone a staff member of Glyph Academy."

    "He does raise a valid point, Headmaster Valerian," Elaine giggled. There was an air of naivete to Orion''s mannerisms. He had his arms crossed, and he slumped in his chair, crumbs sticking to inflated cheeks. "But to answer your question, Mr. Raze, I''d like to think the first is the most important step for a sorcerer."

    "Interesting," Raze said, leaning forward. "And what led you to that deduction?"

    "It''s where we begin, isn''t it? A sorcerer''s origin. It would set a precedent as to what kind of sorcerer we''d eventually turn into. I mean, you said that having an unbreakable foundation was important, didn''t you?"

    "I did."

    "Well then, I''ll take your lesson to heart." Elaine gripped Ellend''s wand, no, her wand in her hand¡ªshe had refused to leave it with the rest of her luggage. "It''s settled. I will strive to be a sorcerer who can provide for my family. And I''ll also learn everything I can about every kind of magic there is. So that when I graduate, I will be a competent Professional Sorcerer, just like both of you. That''s what I''ll aspire to be." Raze simply nodded. A rather...mundane response. She''d aimed to get him to show some modicum of enthusiasm. But there was nothing; he had nothing. Had she...answered incorrectly? She''d spilled her heart out. Every word of what she''d spoken, the girl earnestly believed. So what was the catch? Why did Raze look even more disinterested than he did prior? Maybe I need to accept I won''t ever meet this guy''s standards...

    "Headmaster," Raze said. "How much longer until we arrive at our destination?"

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Orion was busy picking at more treats on the floating table beside him, but he''d made enough room in his mouth to sputter, "Two hours or so. If you have to use the restroom, I suggest doing so now."

    Two hours?! Elaine screamed in her mind. Had they really traveled that far? No, there was the Fushar Mountain Range in the far distance, a sight she could spot even from her bedroom window in Page. Enormous, rocky daggers, their snowy summits reaching well above the clouds. "Sir, there has to be some kind of mistake. We can''t be close to the campus already."

    "A mistake?" Orion asked, tilting his head to the side with a raised brow. "No, my dear. I assure you we should be arriving at Glyph before day''s end. Sorcerer''s Guarantee."

    Now, she was even more confused. Was this another of their tests? Or was this just their way of toying with her, testing her patience? But even a sulmo like Liam could call a blatant lie when he came across one. Reaching Glyph Academy would prove to be an impossible task, especially at the rate they were going. The train was fast, but not fast enough to race across an entire country.

    "You''ve much to learn," Raze said, closing his eyes and sinking into his chair. "Rest your nerves, Young Elaine, and enjoy the ride."

    *

    * *

    It was well into the evening when Elaine and her companions finally arrived at Corvish, a quaint town not much larger than her hometown of Page. In fact, the two settlements shared such a striking resemblance that, for a moment, Elaine was overcome with nostalgia, almost believing she had returned home. However, as she stepped off the steaming locomotive onto the platform, she quickly realized that the faces surrounding her were all those of strangers, their features blending into the sea of unfamiliarity. A fiery orange sunset cascaded across the sky, illuminating the edges of the few wispy clouds that lingered, which soon made way for the stars to twinkle into existence, casting a soft, silvery glow over the landscape. Elaine pulled her well-worn suitcase through the uneven, cobblestone streets, where the remnants of the day''s busyness lingered in the air¡ªthe smell of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor, faint laughter from a group of children playing, and the sound of shutters clanging gently in the evening breeze.

    As she walked, small, one-storied houses lined the road, their paint peeling in places, revealing layers of history beneath, while empty market stalls sat quietly, their vibrant displays of fruits and vegetables now reduced to leftover remnants that would be cleaned away by morning. As always, her fellow travelers, notably Orion, seemed to draw attention to themselves effortlessly. His charismatic presence commanded the attention of passersby, their gazes lingering on him, as though he were the heart of this new place¡ªmaybe he was, in some way that Elaine couldn¡¯t quite understand. She adjusted her grip on the suitcase, feeling both invisible and at odds with the unfolding dynamics of her surroundings. The people in this town probably weren''t accustomed to seeing genuine Professional Sorcerers so casually walking amongst them. For some, sorcerers were tantamount to gods trapped in human forms. Elaine never bought into that hopeless propaganda, primarily on account of her being somewhat of a sorcerer herself. And if it were true that she was a god, then humanity really was doomed...

    A gentle breeze swept through the sleepy town, carrying with it the fragrance-infused scents it had gathered from the nearby forests and fields. Elaine had to keep reminding herself that they were in the countryside, despite the twinge of uncertainty tugging at her thoughts. As dusk settled in, the streetlights flickered to life, their warm glow illuminating the cobblestone streets and creating pools of light that danced along the pathways. Attracted by the ethereal glow, fire pixies flitted about¡ªsmall, whimsical humanoids with delicate, beating insect-like wings and skin that shimmered in shades of orange reminiscent of flickering flames. They zipped playfully into the glass casings of the lights, their laughter ringing like chimes in the evening air.

    Considering how close they were to sundown, Elaine couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that they would soon seek a cozy nook to rest for the night. Did they prefer a quaint, cheap inn with creaky wooden floors and low rafters, or were they in search of a more elaborate hotel¡ªthough she doubted anything so grand existed in these parts? As twilight deepened, she guessed that they would not continue their trek much longer, for the shadows stretched longer and the warmth of the day began to give way to the cool embrace of night.

    Orion''s eyes darted restlessly in their sockets, searching for something elusive that Elaine couldn¡¯t quite grasp. A flicker of urgency hung about him, spurring her to follow closely as they made their way through the quiet town. As they moved, the path opened up to reveal a modest town square, where nearby buildings formed a rough circle around an aging stone fountain at its center. The fountain was an oddity¡ªits design mimicked a peculiar breed of avian, one with an elongated neck and a strangely adorned crest that jutted above its chipped, almost grotesque beak. The once-splendid structure stood dry as a bone; water hadn''t graced its basin in decades, leaving behind only the remnants of cracked stone and stubborn traces of algae. A sparse handful of townspeople, seemingly unconcerned by the unusual duo''s presence, occupied the benches that lined the square. Some chatted amiably, their voices a soft murmur that blended with the gentle rustling of leaves overhead, while others leaned languidly against weathered walls or a flickering street lamp, their eyes flickering toward Orion and Raze with muted curiosity.

    ¡°Ah, here we are,¡± Orion declared, his voice breaking the tranquil atmosphere, as he gestured toward the fountain, a sense of purpose rekindling his stance.

    Elaine dropped her suitcase with a jarring thud, the metal handle clanking sharply against the cobblestones as it fell, and a wave of bewilderment constricted her throat. She hadn''t noticed it before, but now it loomed in front of her like a sentinel of lost secrets. Perhaps it was the peculiar angle at which they had entered the town square, or maybe the encroaching darkness that seemed to swallow her vision, but her eyes widened in surprise when she finally beheld it.

    It was an oddly designed structure, a cylindrical-shaped frame crafted entirely from ancient stone. Towering nine feet into the air, it was wide enough for four people to walk through side by side. As she drew nearer, cautiously edging past the neglected fountain that stood dried up and cracked, she noticed that every one of the massive stones¡ªmore akin to weathered boulders¡ªwas intricately festooned with twisting vines and a lush carpet of moss. Each stone bore an archaic symbol etched into its surface, their meanings lost to time. Some spiraled elegantly in shapes reminiscent of knotted ribbons, while others appeared to depict a star-like figure, or was it the sun peeking through the clouds? In striking contrast to the surrounding street, which was marred by patches of cracked earth and scattered rocks, this enigmatic frame was built atop a smooth platform of striking turquoise-colored marble, veined with streaks of deep purple and bright yellow. She only fully appreciated the platform''s beauty when the tap of her shoe echoed against its polished surface, a sound so distinct that it broke through the otherwise pervasive silence of the square.

    Orion chuckled. "Close your mouth, Young Elaine. A pixie might fly inside of it." Elaine, more than embarrassed, gave the headmaster her back, trying to dispel the blush roaring on her face. "Any idea what this is?"

    "It''s an archgate," Elaine said, still not meeting his stare. Fortunately, she heard the shuffling of his boots. He had turned to the structure, and it was then that she reapplied her stare on it. "So, this is how we''ll get to Glyph, then?"

    "How do you think we got here in the first place?" Raze asked.

    "Well, you''re sorcerers. I just assumed you used a teleportation spell or something of that nature."

    "And yet we chose to take the train?"

    Elaine cringed at her painful ignorance. "Yeah...I guess that wouldn''t make sense, would it?

    Orion laughed louder. "Had we cast a teleportation spell, we''d be too drained to make the trip to your Page. Even us professionals require Essence." Striding right up to the construction arched over his head, Orion smiled as he announced, "Reptum. Glyph Academy, Umen Oblix."

    The sun had been cut in half by this point in the late afternoon, casting elongated shadows that made it feel considerably dark for the hour. The streetlights that lined the cobblestone streets were ancient relics; their flickering bulbs struggled to pierce the thick, velvet blackness enveloping them. Yet, just as Orion uttered those words, an azure light erupted into existence. One by one, the runes etched along the archway''s frame sprang to life, glowing in perfect synchronization, as if they were conversing in a forgotten language of light. The space within the archgate ignited with a pulsating, liquid energy dancing with a primal rhythm reminiscent of the waves rolling over a hidden shore. The vivid brightness washed over Elaine''s face like a warm tide, forcing her to squint against the overwhelming luminescence. All around them, a throng of curious lowborns from Corvish stood captivated, their faces bewitched by the unforeseen spectacle. A collective gasp escaped their lips¡ªa sound of wonder and disbelief¡ªthat echoed against the stone buildings, reminding Elaine of their presence. Indeed, she had an audience¡ªone that seemed eager to marvel at the extraordinary, unlike the jaded, cynical merchants and shoppers infesting the bustling marketplace in Page, who had long since lost their sense of awe. Fingers pointed. Eyes were split. These people, they feasted on the splendor. The magic.

    "Would you look at that," exclaimed a male voice.

    "See? I told you I was telling the truth!" said another. A woman''s voice, this time. "Those sorcerers popped right out of it yesterday!"

    "Now that''s magic for ya!"

    "What kind of spell did they use?"

    That''s right, some of them must have witnessed the surreal arrival of Orion and Raze the day before. She pondered how the onlookers would have reacted. An ordinary day, suddenly shattered by a burst of magical energy. Then, as if stepping from a dream, two Professional Sorcerers emerged out of the archgate, their robes billowing around them like the wings of otherworldly beings. The crowd would have stood frozen, jaws slack, eyes wide in disbelief. Elaine imagined herself there, profoundly flabbergasted, too stunned to even form words, as the extraordinary unfolded before her, blending the mundane with the fantastical in an unforgettable display.

    "Only certain sorcerers can use the archgates," Orion said, lifting a finger. "One has to recite the specific words to activate them, so it makes no difference to keep some in convenient places. The Arcanum makes it a point to build an archgate in every city, town, or place of relevance in Incante. It permits easy travel for us sorcerers."

    Elaine gulped. "I see..."

    "Well, duty calls." A wave of bewildered gasps rippled through the crowd. With a roguish grin that lit up his face, Orion boldly stepped forward and, with a swift, effortless motion, he swung himself through the archgate, the ornate patterns glinting in the fading light. In an instant, he vanished from sight, leaving behind a trail of astonished whispers and wide-eyed spectators, all craving for an explanation.

    Next was Raze''s turn, however, he paused a breath away from the portal. He must have noticed it, the cage of thorns confining her where she stood. "Not coming?" he asked. Elaine didn''t reply. Her legs, they weren''t cooperating. She felt frozen, her bones turning stiff. "That of what I mentioned on the train? Were you able to figure it out yet?"

    "Wh...What?" Elaine stammered. "You''re bringing that up now?"

    "The most important step," Raze intoned, his voice resonating with an unshakeable conviction, "isn''t the first. No, it''s the one that follows. Always the next step. Whatever you''ve accomplished, whatever feats you''ve achieved, all of it would ultimately prove meaningless if you don''t continue to advance with a consistent and steady march forward. Novice Wand," he continued, his piercing gaze fixed on her, "you may not have realized it yet, but you''ve already taken your first step. It was your choice to join us on this journey, to leave the safety of your familiar realm and venture into the unknown. That act alone marks your first step into a larger world. Now, it is time for you to fully commit." Raze lifted his arms high above his head, his dark cloak billowing behind him like a storm cloud, the fabric swirling dramatically in the gusty wind. "Null bereft Grandium entys Enternum. Clara en Vyrum. Bound by nothing, we March Freely into the Forever. Radiant and True. This is the oath we, the Glyph sorcerers, hold sacred, a promise forged in the crucible of life and death." With a commanding gesture, Raze extended a hand toward the shimmering archgate, its ethereal light casting moving patterns on the ground. "Now, tell me¡ªwhat will your next step entail?" He leaned forward slightly, anticipation written across his face, eager to see if she would embrace the moment and define the path that lay ahead.

    Elaine stared at him in complete silence, her breath hitching in her throat. There was a pulse in her heart, like a warm melody weaving through her veins, melting away the icy grip that had settled at the bottom of her boots. In her right hand, her wand felt solid and reassuring, and she tightened her grip around its surface, drawing strength from it. Exhaling deeply, she leaned down to pick up her luggage, the familiar weight of it grounding her at the moment. With a sudden surge of exhilaration, Elaine sprang into a sprint, her legs moving faster than they had in days. A loud scream burst free, a wild release of energy, defiance, and a cloud of dust kicked up behind her as she charged past Raze; she caught a fleeting glimpse of his surprised expression¡ªa mixture of shock and concern¡ªand felt a rush of adrenaline propel her forward as she dashed into the grand archgate.

    Immediately, she felt the biting chill of the wind as it swept across her bare, fair skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps that rose like miniature hills on her arms. The air was stark and devoid of any scent, carrying an eerie, aloof character that felt disjointed from the world around her. Strands of her blonde hair danced wildly behind her in vibrant arcs, caught in the relentless gusts that swirled and twisted with playful abandon. Elaine tilted her head back, her eyes scanning the sky above. The mass of clouds had thickened and loomed ominously closer, a heavy gray tapestry that seemed almost within reach as if she could stretch out her hand and pluck one from the heavens. A sudden pressure built in her ears, accompanied by sharp pops that echoed like tiny fireworks deep within her ear canals, briefly distracting her from the encroaching sense of unease.

    And then¡ªa disconcerting realization washed over her. Was it her imagination, or was the air growing heavier, making it increasingly difficult to draw in a full breath? It felt as though an unseen weight pressed down on her chest, wrapping around her lungs and constricting her ability to inhale deeply. She could sense the struggle intensifying, each breath more labored than the last, as if the very atmosphere was conspiring against her.

    Stumbling forward, Elaine took notice of the numerous other archgates enclosing her in a ring, all of them built upon the same fashion of smooth, turquoise-colored platform expanding beneath her feet. Some had their runes shimmering, strangers in adorned attires striding onto the courtyard from some faraway realm. Footsteps sounded behind her, and Raze appeared at her side. "Now you''ve done it. I guess you''re officially a sorcerer in training."

    Elaine could hardly believe her eyes. Raze was...smiling. Or at least, it looked like a smile. The expression contorted his already rugged features in an unsettling way, as if it physically pained him to drop his usual hardened scowl. For just a fleeting moment, his lips twisted upward, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath his stern facade, but the semblance of joy disintegrated almost as quickly as it appeared, returning to the familiar grimness. He advanced with purpose, heading toward a small gathering. Here, she spotted Headmaster Valerian, his distinguished figure cloaked in the deep afternoon light, engaged in an unsmiling conversation with two men dressed in uniform gray. Their cloaks, reminiscent of Raze''s, swayed and fluttered in the brisk wind, casting shadows that danced around their feet. The men¡¯s expressions were obscured, but their postures radiated authority.

    "Where are we?" Elaine asked, aghast.

    Raze glanced back at her, cringing. "Where do you think?"

    Elaine followed the direction of his nod, and a thrill surged through her, consuming her like a ravenous beast, gnashing away at her emotions and leaving her awash in a cavernous sense of wonder. Towering spires pierced the heavens. Warm amber lights streamed from the countless rows of windows, illuminating the white brick exteriors weathered by age. Elegant, fastidiously crafted stone bridges arched over rugged cliff sides, linking the titanic architecture together. This was...this was...

    "Elaine Harwood," Raze muttered, "welcome to Glyph Academy."

 Chapter 6 - Glyph Academy

    This was a...school?

    The castle loomed titanic against the horizon, far larger than any building Elaine had ever encountered in her life. Its exterior, composed of grayish-white bricks, seamlessly melded into the towering, jagged shelves of earth, making it appear as if it had risen organically from the planet itself. At the castle''s base, a verdant sea of grassy blades swayed gently in the breeze, vibrant colors ranging from a deep emerald to a golden hue. Vibrant flags, firmly anchored into either stone or at the top of one of the many towers by sturdy wooden poles, flapped energetically in the wind, their weathered fabric fluttering like the wings of birds taking flight. Each flag proudly displayed the school¡¯s official insignia: a striking golden emblem shaped like a griffon and encircled in a ring of stars; its muscular body, poised confidently on its hind legs, exuded strength and grace while its wings spread wide behind it. A powerful representation of both unity and pride.

    If the tales she¡¯d heard held any truth, the castle had stood the test of time for over three centuries. Remarkably, its condition surpassed that of many noble mansions she¡¯d glimpsed in glossy tabloids¡ªtheir pristine facades often belied by words of opulence. Despite the evident signs of age, such as vines and wildflowers creeping up its weathered stones, the castle¡¯s grandeur was undeniable. Up close, Elaine could discern the subtle imperfections: a few dents marred the rooftop, while the yellow-tinted glass windows bore faint cracks. Yet, amidst these small flaws lay a sense of history and resilience¡ªa testament to the castle¡¯s enduring legacy.

    From a distance, it was a perfect image. The castle did not present itself as a singular, monolithic structure; instead, it resembled a fantastical ensemble of individual spires and temples, each distinct yet flawlessly interconnected, entwining into the cohesive entity that was Glyph Academy. Elaborate bridges and sweeping archways linked various sectors of the academy, creating a maze of pathways, yet, notably, a pronounced gap lay nestled between the two tallest steeples. Was that an intentional design choice, or was it merely a byproduct of adhering to the natural geography of the setting? Its pointed roofs, adorned in shades of cerulean and azure, reached skyward like horns, and as her gaze descended, Elaine perceived the daunting complexity of the building''s layout. It was an intricate web of hallways and stairs¡ªat least six or seven stories high¡ªlikely filled with winding corridors and hidden nooks, promising that navigation would prove to be quite the undertaking.

    Recalling her previous experiences, she couldn''t help but compare this grand academy to her local library¡ªa shabby little hovel that seemed to mock even the most modest of dwellings, one that would surely make a disdainful bushgoblin cringe with embarrassment. Elaine stared up academy, aweless, silent, and she imagined that if she were to take the stairs¡ªif, indeed, the academy even had any¡ªdays might slip by like sand through her fingers before she ever reached the top. A knot formed in her stomach as she gulped, her heart racing at the thought of her professors waiting for her, their stern gazes fixed on the clock. They would undoubtedly expect her to be punctual, their academic rigor leaving no room for tardiness.

    The semester hadn''t even officially begun, yet the specter of her attendance record emerged large in her mind, casting a shadow over her excitement. She envisioned the top of the tallest tower, a majestic column adorned with a mesmerizing series of floating, glowing runes that spiraled around it in an endless yet slow-paced dance. If an especially daring sorcerer were somehow to muster the courage to crawl to the peak, teetering precariously at that dizzying height, she would appear as little more than a harmless, insignificant speck. It struck her then how profoundly isolating such grandeur could be. No wonder a majority of the students at the academy hailed from noble lineages; they likely viewed the world through their gilded perspectives, ensconced in privilege. They were the kings and queens in their heavenly towers.

    As she gathered the control to pull her gaze away from the magnificent piece of architecture, Elaine noticed the steady line of people snaking along the upward path, narrowing her eyes for a sharper look. The brick path appeared to wind its way toward the entrance of the castle, which was marked by a great cube-shaped temple building. It was strategically positioned at the foot of a steep cliff, which supported an even larger segment of the castle''s structure.

    "Ah, there you are! Young Elaine!" Orion exclaimed, turning to better aim his grin at her. The two men he''d been speaking with only a second earlier were now baring annoyed glowers. "So, what do you make of the place? Not thinking of getting lost, are you?"

    "It''s amazing, sir!" Elaine exclaimed. "A bit, err, a bit bigger than I expected. Then again, it is a premier magic teaching institution. I''m sure I''ll get used to it."

    Orion snickered. "Just try not to fall off the sides now. That would be a rather unfortunate trip, I would say!"

    "Please don''t make jokes like that, sir," Raze sighed.

    Ah, the grim reminder. Elaine made a conscious decision to narrow her focus solely on the academy itself, as was her intent. She had never harbored a fear of heights, and she figured if she continued to convince herself that this was an ordinary academy, everything would eventually fall into place. Yet, if the students and faculty were anything like the headmaster, she wondered just how effective her strategy would be. It was difficult to gauge, but the reality was striking: she, Orion Valerian, Raze, as well as every other soul present, were suspended hundreds of meters above the ground, the shimmering expanse of a massive lake glimmering far below. Long ago, the original headmaster¡ªFaye Theodora the Sakura Sorcerer¡ªhad cast a powerful enchantment onto the campus. She''d lifted the strip of land from the planet and kept it suspended in the air. Nobody knew what her reasoning for doing so was¡ªmaybe she just thought it would look cool¡ªbut the fact of the matter was, they were high, high in the sky. It explained why the air was thinner, why the winds were so rough, why the griffins roosted on rooftops¡ª

    Wait! There were griffins on the rooftops!

    She saw them perched on the ledges of towers, four-legged winged predators aiming their beaked faces this way and that, releasing a high-pitched screech or two. Nobody appeared to be bothered by them, not even as one flew over her head¡ªits shadow cascading across the ground¡ªand clung to the side of a nearby tower.

    "So, Young Elaine," Orion said cheerfully, "it pains me to say that we must part ways here."

    Elaine''s mood soured. She''d grown quite attached to him. It kind of made her wish that their journey had lasted a little longer. "I understand," Elaine said, keeping her disappointment hidden with a smile. "You''re the headmaster, after all. I''m sure you''ve got thousands of duties that you need to attend to¡ª"

    "A lot more than that, actually," one of the men in gray cloaks corrected with a cough.

    "In any case," Elaine chuckled, "I''m grateful for you going out of your way to bring me here."

    "Oh, please. It was no problem. It was a nice change of pace for me, I must admit. In any case, I''m eager to see how you make it through your first semester. I''m expecting great things from you, Harwood."

    Jeez, no pressure, Elaine thought, smiling nevertheless.

    "I''ll leave you in Raze''s capable hands. He''ll take you where it is you need to go. I''m sure you''re tired after a long day of travel, and you''ll need all your energy for the trials to come."

    "Headmaster Valerian!"

    "Hmm? Ah! Yes, yes, man. I''m coming!" Orion shot a glare at the faces in cloaks. "Until our next meeting, Young Elaine," he said, stalking away, the tail of his coat flapping after him.

    Raze sighed again. "Well then, guess you''re stuck with me."

    Elaine frowned. You can at least try to sound a little jovial. "Happiness," so it seemed, wasn''t in Raze''s vocabulary. As she strode after him, tugging her suitcase along with her, Elaine shot another glance at the long line of people, most of them around her age. Students, some dressed in blue-colored uniforms. So these are to be my classmates, are they?

    She could tell most of them were goldbloods. Whether it be their pompous attitudes or butlers that chased behind them, attending to their every need, she recognized the stench of nobility. She liked to keep an open mind towards them, as she would anyone else. Her parents had taught her to judge someone based on their character, their actions. Not their place on the societal ladder. Even so, she never had an easy experience with nobles at one point in her life. Well, excluding Orion and Raze, of course. They assured her that not everybody in this school would be...difficult. Another screech sounded in the sky, but it didn''t belong to a griffin. Elaine gaped as she watched the crimson-tinted carriage descend out of the clouds, pulled by pegasi, the majestic, white steeds flapping their wings repeatedly as they steadied themselves to land.

    The carriage had undeniably been enchanted in some manner. Pegasi, though undeniably strong creatures, would struggle to haul such a heavy construct across solid ground, let alone lift it gracefully through the skies. Perhaps a sophisticated weight-lifting enchantment had been cast upon it? That was the only logical conclusion Elaine could deduce. As she glanced around, she noticed more pegasi tethered to adjacent carriages clustered nearby. An area had been designated for them, marked by a sturdy cement platform that seamlessly transitioned into a broad landing strip, stretching far beyond the confines of the golden fences that enclosed the space.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Suddenly, the ornate door of the carriage swung open with a flourish, and out stepped an elderly gentleman. He appeared to be in his late sixties, his long, narrow face a map of time, deeply lined with the creases of many years lived. His hair, once a rich shade of chestnut, was now a solemn gray, interlaced with dark strands that bore witness to his advanced age. Perched atop his nose was a monocle, which magnified one of his dark eyes. He surveyed the surroundings with a mixture of authority and curiosity, fully aware of the attention drawn to his arrival. He swept the campus with an inquisitive leer. Raising a gloved hand to his mouth, he turned to the carriage and called in an eloquent but strict tone, "Master Kliff. We''d better hurry. It''s bad enough that you already missed Orientation."

    "Yeah, yeah. I''m coming," a voice answered unenthusiastically.

    A young man of average height descended the shiny wooden steps of the carriage, his movements fluid and confident. Elaine''s breath caught in her throat, and her eyes widened in astonishment as she took in his presence. Was he really a student? He wore no uniform; instead, he was clad in a striking white suit tailored to perfection, accentuated by gray trousers that fluttered elegantly behind him. His attire, reminiscent of an old-world charm, spoke of a traditional fashion sense that somehow felt refreshingly modern. It suited him impeccably, enhancing his already dapper appearance. Just as he was about to engage his servant, Elaine''s gaze locked onto his, drawing him in with an almost magnetic pull. At that moment, he turned to meet her eyes, his sharp, well-defined features softening with a flicker of surprise before morphing into a keen curiosity. He maintained a rich, tan-toned skin, and his striking dark blue eyes sparkled with flecks of yellow¡ªlike shards of sunlight breaking through the canopy of a forest. His dark blonde hair was impeccably styled, each strand in place. He was...perfect.

    He held her gaze for a few lingering seconds, relishing in the moment of her wordless admiration, his expression subtly intense. Then, with a slight shake of his head and an audible sigh that seemed to release the tension between them, he shifted his focus, breaking the spell that had bound them. "All right, Ed. Let''s get moving."

    "Wise decision, Master Kliff." The servant barked something at the man steering the pegasus, then he started after the boy who had casually shoved his hands into his pockets as he marched ahead. Elaine watched as the two joined the steady stream of people headed for the entrance.

    "Hey," she heard Raze call. "You coming? Or are you just going to stand there all evening?"

    "Oh! Sorry, be right there." As Elaine rushed for him, she only then detected the pale fire engulfing her cheeks. She was...blushing? She touched the side of her face, feeling the tips of her fingers flare with heat. Indeed, her skin had scorched over, and a bolt of embarrassment struck mercilessly. Elaine, you sulmo!

    Hopefully, she hadn''t looked too imbecilic. But she could only hope.

    *

    * *

    Raze had carefully guided her north-westward through the sprawling grounds until they arrived at a cluster of long, five-storied buildings set back from the main campus. These were the student dormitories, distinct yet harmonious in their design. The structures were constructed from grayish-white bricks, complemented by rooftops of a deep, vibrant blue that added a touch of elegance to the ensemble. The dormitories formed an unusual arrangement, bending at sharp angles around a well-maintained grassy courtyard. In the center stood a magnificent tree adorned with striking blue leaves that glimmered as if dusted with the faintest shimmer of starlight. Below its sprawling branches, sturdy wooden benches and tables were positioned, inviting students to gather for study sessions or leisurely conversations, all contained within a neatly bounded square of lush green grass.

    Once inside one of the identical buildings, Elaine¡¯s initial excitement shifted to confusion. She quickly realized there were no traditional stairs to navigate between floors. Instead, as she walked to the very end of the corridor, she found herself facing a round symbol embedded in the wooden floor. The symbol was composed of two concentric rims, each curving in a way reminiscent of a land dragon''s powerful arm. Intricate archaic characters and elegant runes spiraled around the rims, their meanings shrouded in mystery...at least, they were to her.

    "A magic circle?" Elaine whispered to herself.

    "Far more efficient than stairs, wouldn''t you agree?" Raze replied, and there was a hint of snarkiness in his tone. As they stepped onto it, he announced, "Floor Second," and the magic circle burst to life. A strange, tingling sensation consumed her, an electric buzz that zapped at the skin. But it was over in an instant. The bright light that caused her to squeeze her eyes shut disappeared, and as Elaine regained a wary vision, she faced a different corridor than the one she''d previously walked. Granted, it had the same general interior design¡ªwooden floors stretching from one end to the other, silver chandeliers housing slippery sparks of fire up above, eloquent portraits hung on the wall. But she knew they were someplace else when she didn''t immediately spot any of the people they had passed before reaching the dead end.

    Raze stopped in front of one door in particular. "2E" was written on its mahogany surface in a bold, bluish color. "This is where you''ll be staying. Your uniforms should already be in your closet. If not, you could inquire about it tomorrow at the front desk. Oh, and don''t leave your room after nine o''clock, all right?"

    Elaine raised a brow. "Why? What happens at nine¡ª"

    "Just trust me on this, okay? You might not like what you see."

    Well, that was...ominous. She wanted to pry into him further about the subject, but the man had already made off down the hall before she could get her next question. So much for that. Elaine stared at the door again, reaching for the doorknob. When her hand grabbed nothing, it was brought to her attention that the door was missing its handle. "Uh, Raze," Elaine called. "I think my door''s broken..."

    She heard an annoyed sigh filter the space, followed by the rapid tapping of boots atop wood as the sorcerer stormed back in her direction, red-faced. Embarrassment. She recognized it, even on the face of the Skeleton. Raze stopped a few doors from her, then tossed something small. Elaine caught it between her hands with a clap, staring at the card with a speculative gaze. It featured an image of her face¡ªshe was making a blank expression, lips tight in a line¡ªand a few lines of biometric data. When had they put this together, she wondered.

    "Your Student ID," Raze said. "This is legitimate evidence that you are an official student at the academy. Do. Not. Lose. It. You won''t be able to get back on campus otherwise. Not to mention, it''s a huge pain in the rear to reproduce. And guess who our beloved headmaster will assign that duty to?"

    Elaine chuckled as she replied, "Don''t worry, I''ll keep it safe."

    "For my sake, you''d better." The sorcerer showed her his back and strode off. "Dinner ends at seven, just to let you know in advance."

    "Wait, how do I¡ª"

    "Door''s enchanted. Hold your ID to the crystal, and it should let you in."

    Crystal? What crystal? Elaine glanced at the door again¡ªserpentine patterns slithering up the portrait like vines¡ªand her eyes spotted the small ruby gem imbued into the frame right above the room number.

    "Hmm? Like this?" Elaine stood on her tiptoes, holding the ID to the gemstone as close as possible. The gemstone reacted, blinking a red light twice. A second later, the door started crumbling out of existence. Chunks of the wood disintegrated into puffs of white smoke until none of it was left.

    A gaping mouth full of jagged teeth erupted from the room on the other side, snapping shut with a menacing clack just inches from Elaine''s face. The sudden appearance sent a jolt of terror coursing through her, and she screamed as she dropped her suitcase, the hard thud of it flying across the narrow corridor. In a frantic bid to escape, she leaped backward, her back colliding forcefully with the hard surface of the wall, which shuddered in response, rattling a nearby picture frame that hung askew. Breathless and wide-eyed, Elaine crumpled to the floor, the wooden floor pressing against her trembling legs as she tried to catch her breath. The creature vibrated with a feverish quiver. It sniffed the air, only to set its sights¡ªit didn''t have any discernible eyes¡ªback on Elaine. But before it could pounce, a frantic voice screamed, "No, that''s enough! That isn''t food!"

    To those orders, the creature calmed itself, retracting its rows of needles serving as fangs, silvery saliva oozing out its jaws. Startled, Elaine hesitantly rose to her feet, not taking her eyes off of it. A bulbous head¡ªcheckered with distinct, purple spots¡ªbobbed up and down in content. It curved its lips upward, seemingly trying to imitate what Elaine best assumed was a smile. However, as its sinewy tongue spread across its mouth, she knew that it saw her as a snack. That opened maw was filled to the brim with countless, spindle-shaped teeth. It connected to a slender, elastic body that twisted and curved whenever it moved. The frill-like appendages sprouting off the sides of its body floundered, and purple-tipped spikes pointed out of its spine. At first, its height rivaled that of a human. But it was shrinking, decreasing in size as it pulled its head into the room until it was no bigger than the length of a child''s arm. Rubbery tendrils stuck out of the soil, pouring over the sides of the pot it was sitting in.

    "Wait..." Elaine uttered, wincing. "It''s a...plant?"

    "Yup!" confirmed the girl holding the vicious weed awkwardly in her arms. She kept it alarmingly close. What if it got hungry again? "Sorry," she said, bowing her head apologetically, dipping a sodden frown. "Gulp isn''t usually like this. I just haven''t fed him yet, is all." She rested the grumbling plant on a nearby mirror table. "I''m sorry if he frightened you. I promise it won''t happen again."

    Elaine started, not entirely sure of what to say. "Gulp...?"

    "Yes," the girl said, her grin fractured but genuine. "That''s what I call him, at least."

    "Right..."

    "And my name''s Fearne, Fearne Lavender."

    She was a petite girl with porcelain fair skin, her green-colored eyes sparkling with interest, framed by dark lashes that accentuated their vivid hue. Her milk chocolate hair was arranged into a braided ponytail that cascaded gracefully over her left shoulder. She wore a simple yet elegant white gown that flowed gently around her knees, the fabric soft and slightly textured, giving it a timeless quality. The gown''s sleeves were delicately off-the-shoulder, revealing just a hint of her collarbone. On her feet, she sported a pair of sturdy yet stylish boots, made of rich brown leather that had clearly seen many adventures, their scuffed surfaces telling stories of exploration. Strapped around her right wrist was a bracelet that caught the eye¡ªa unique piece that paralleled nature''s design. It resembled an ensemble of vines and leaves, crafted from a mix of materials that gave it an organic, almost ethereal feel, as if it had been woven from the very Essence of the forest itself.

    "Fearne, huh?" Elaine said, struggling to plaster a smile. She extended a hand to her. "My name''s Elaine Harwood. It''s, um, a pleasure to meet you."

    "Oh, please. The pleasure is all¡ª"

    Fearne let out a brief yelp! as one foot tripped over the other, and the girl plummeted to the floor with a thud. Elaine¡ªwho still had her arm held out¡ªslowly stared down at her as she lay sprawled out on the floor. A fish out of water. Helpless.

    "By the way," Raze''s voice was distant, but she heard him shouting well enough, "you''ll be sharing your room with another student. Hope that isn''t an inconvenience."

    Elaine frowned. Thanks for the heads-up, Raze...

 Chapter 7 - Roommates

    Her room wasn''t anything monumental, but it would suffice for her needs. The walls were painted a soft cream color, giving the space an airy feel, and the small window, with its delicate lace curtains, let in a gentle stream of evening light. It was larger than her modest bedroom back in Page, with enough space for a sturdy oak desk and a simple wooden chair, bookshelves filled with borrowed novels, and an inviting, unassuming bed. Elaine found herself somewhat baffled at how ordinary it all seemed, especially compared to the lavish descriptions she had heard about the accommodations for students at this prestigious academy. For a lowborn girl like her, it was more than enough¡ªa sanctuary of sorts. Yet, a nagging worry clung to her thoughts: this was an academy that openly welcomed itself to nobility, where golden chandeliers hung in the grand hallways and opulent banners adorned the walls. Would her humble quarters meet their expectations? Would they scoff at her lack of extravagance, or would they even notice her at all?

    Eh, why pester herself with meaningless questions? She had her own problems to obsess over.

    Two neatly made beds¡ªone against each wall¡ªwere draped in soft blankets that beckoned for rest. Between them stood a plush couch, upholstered in a warm, earthy fabric, paired with a small side table that held a few scattered magazines. The tall bookshelves, crafted from polished oak, stood ready to be filled with cherished volumes, while two distinct study tables were positioned under the wide windows, allowing for ample natural light to pour in during daylight hours. On the walls, an assortment of empty portrait frames¡ªsome ornate and gilded, others simple and modern¡ªwaited patiently for the memories they would one day hold. The floors were covered with thick, matted rugs that offered a soft cushion against the cool, hard surface underneath, making each step feel gentle and subdued.

    On each study table, a stunning narvali¡ªa striking amethyst glass orb¡ªrested gracefully on an intricately designed pedestal. Its surface shimmered with hues of deep purple and hints of gold, captivating anyone who glanced its way. This unique piece served a practical purpose: it allowed for long-distance communication, a coveted feature for those seeking to remain connected. Unfortunately, such orbs were prohibitively expensive, a luxury that was far beyond her parents'' means, leaving her with only dreams of the conversations she could have had if one were within their grasp. As Raze had told her, student uniforms were already hung in the closet at her bed''s footboard. There was still enough room to fit the rest of her clothing, though¡ªit wouldn''t take long as she didn''t own much.

    "I was a bit worried I''d have to spend my first semester alone," Fearne said. "They told me one of the students canceled their enrollment."

    "Is that so?" Elaine replied, opening her suitcase and shifting through her belongings.

    "I don''t mean to intrude, but I''ve got to ask. What''s your story?" Fearne was sitting on her bed, kicking her legs over the side. Thank Aeris, the red mark that had smeared on her face from the fall she''d taken had vanished.

    "What do you mean by that? My story?"

    "I was told that you were scouted by one of the Glyph staff members," Fearne elaborated. "It''s always interesting to hear how it happened, you know? For me, I was helping my parents out in their gardens. It was rainy that day, so we were rushing to pick all the berries as quickly as possible, you see?"

    "Gardens?" Elaine asked. "Let me guess, you''re from the countryside, right?"

    Fearne fought back and failed to hide a self-conscious blush. "Am I really that obvious?" she laughed, anxiously stroking her ponytail.

    Elaine had suspected as much. She carried a hint of an accent, one that stretched the vowels of every other word. She camouflaged it well.

    "Anyways, I was just finishing my patch when one gentleman in a gray cloak suddenly appeared on our grounds. I thought it was a robber or maybe a rogue sorcerer. We tend to have a lot of them out there. But he was quick to explain that he worked for Glyph Academy," she exclaimed, almost as if she didn''t believe her own story. "My folks were skeptical of him at first, as was myself. But when he showed us documentation, as well as an official Glyph-administered wand, we knew he had to be telling the truth."

    "I can imagine you had the shock of your life," Elaine chuckled.

    "I thought it was a dream..." Sitting on the edge of her bed, Fearne curled her knees against her chest, lacing fingers around them. "People in my town always complimented me for my magic. They said my Essence was strong enough to pass for a Professional Sorcerer. Of course, I never took them seriously. I just thought they were being nice. But...to think I''d have the opportunity to study at Glyph Academy of all places, why, it''s like Aeris herself has blessed me."

    Nodding at the ordering of her belongings¡ªneatly arranged dresses and skirts, all delicately hanging from hangers, with her shoes and well-traveled suitcase beneath¡ªElaine shut the closet doors with a firm motion. The solid snap reverberated in her ears, causing her to shudder involuntarily. She directed a reluctant gaze toward the sinister-looking plant occupying Fearne''s side of the room. It was a veladora snaptrapper, its waxy, dark green leaves curling menacingly, poised for movement. That particular species wasn¡¯t native to Incante, known instead for thriving in far more dangerous climates. How did Fearne ever manage to procure one? Earlier, Elaine had caught a glimpse of Fearne artfully coaxing the creature with a dead rat; Elaine pretended not to notice, suppressing her instinctual alarm as she winced, hoping her roommate remained oblivious to her unease.

    "Your family are farmers of some kind, I take it?"

    "Medical Mages, actually," Fearne said, lifting a finger. "They''re quite famous where I come from. I learned everything about Abjuration from them. They''re incredible at what they do. After I graduate, I was hoping to follow in their footsteps and become a Medical Mage myself."

    Elaine peeked over her shoulder. "Really?"

    "Allegedly, even once I''m made an official Professional Sorcerer, I still have to undergo three years of additional training as a junior Medical Mage before I can be properly certified." Fearne laid back on her bed, an arm stretched out over the side. "It''ll be a pain, but I hope to make a name for myself as a commendable Medical Mage. That''s my dream." Gulp the veladora snapped its fangs, and Fearne giggled into her hands. It couldn''t be. Did she actually understand what the little beast was saying? "Anyways, enough about me," Fearne said, pitching up in a swinging motion. "What made you want to study at Glyph?"

    "Oh, um, well..."

    "I don''t expect you to have attended Orientation, considering you just arrived today. But I guess the semester doesn''t technically start until Thursday anyways, so it''s not like you missed out on anything important. The campus was almost entirely empty until just a couple of days ago."

    So that explains the long line of people I saw earlier, Elaine thought.

    "The students here, may they be noble or lowborn, hail from all across the country. It''s a big change from what I''m used to."

    "You can say that again," Elaine scoffed. "As for myself, well, I come from Page. My family owns a potion-making business there."

    Fearne drew a finger to her lips. "Page?"

    "I wouldn''t blame you if you''ve never heard of it. It''s a pretty small town. Anyways, the only reason I''m here is..." Elaine trailed off. As she looked at Fearne, who was now leaning forward in anticipation of her story, the rest of what she had to say disappeared on her tongue. Elaine forged a smile. "I''ve wanted to study magic since I was a child. A Glyph representative spotted me practicing my magic one day. I guess they were impressed, and so, here I am."

    "Fascinating," Fearne said, head in her hands. Luckily, she didn''t appear to have caught on to her blatant lie. Elaine wanted to tell her truthfully. But Ellend was still a touchy subject to tackle, and she didn''t feel comfortable discussing his complicated predicament with a girl she''d just met. She''d explain everything to Fearne in due time. Just not today. "As of now, there''s only a single spell I''m remotely confident in casting," Elaine said, admitting a partially ashamed grin. "How about you?"

    Fearne blushed. "Oh! Uh, nothing too crazy."

    "But you do know some spells, don''t you?"

    "Well, yes¡ª"

    "Could you show me some of your magic?"

    "Wait, now?!" Fearne gasped.

    "Pretty please?" Elaine scuttled off her bed and migrated over to Fearne''s, plopping right next to her, who was now tugging at her ponytail again.

    "...Err, I guess it couldn''t hurt," Fearne uttered. She extended her hand towards the satchel lying on the nightstand, retrieving a wand from it. Unlike Elaine''s ordinary wand, this one had a peculiar tendril-like design spiraling up from the green handle and coiling around its shaft. To Elaine, it resembled the persistent weeds that often ensnared the base of their mailbox. "I''ve mainly practiced using healing magic, but I''m partially educated on Plant Magic, too." Fearne twirled the wand three times and softly uttered the name, "Flosero."

    The bracelet adorning Fearne''s wrist underwent a remarkable transformation. Countless plant buds emerged along its perimeter, steadily growing more prominent until the flowers contained within unfurled. Each bloom displayed distinctive colored petals: some were a deep purple with speckles of yellow, others were a delicate pink with winding green spirals, and some were a vibrant red with streaks of gold. Gradually, a sweet, rich fragrance permeated the room. As Elaine breathed in, she identified the scent and could almost taste the fruity flavor lingering in the air.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    "My mother taught me this when I was little," Fearne said, smiling fondly. "It comes in handy when I''m trying to¡ª"

    "Awesome!" Elaine exclaimed. Before she realized what she was doing, she''d seized Fearne''s wrist into her grasp, tugging the girl closer as she thoroughly inspected the transformed bracelet. "I''ve never seen Plant Magic up close! Does it work on inorganic material, too? Is the bracelet itself enchanted in some way? Can you make any flower species bloom, or is it only limited to¡ª"

    "Elaine!" Fearne squealed.

    "Hm?"

    "You''re kind of cutting off the circulation to my arm. Please let go..."

    "Ah! Sorry!" Elaine gasped, relinquishing her stronghold on poor Fearne''s wrist. Elaine often wondered whether she possessed two distinct personalities or perhaps even two separate brains. One part of her was rational and logical, while the other seemed utterly infatuated with the mysterious allure of magic. This internal conflict occasionally led to moments where she would impulsively act without fully considering the consequences as if her body were moving of its own volition.

    "Wow, that''s some grip you''ve got," Fearne chuckled, fingers massaging her wrist. "Like I said, it''s a fairly basic spell. I can teach it to you later if you''re interested."

    "Please and thank you!" Elaine said, clasping her hands together with a loud slap. "There aren''t a lot of sorcerers where I''m from, let alone Professional Sorcerers. So I can''t say for certain I won''t, um, freak out whenever I see a new spell. Sorry in advance if I overreact like that again."

    Fearne laughed into her palm. "Don''t sweat it. I don''t think there''s a sorcerer alive who isn''t at least somewhat crazy about magic. It''s our trademark."

    "Yeah, I suppose," Elaine snickered. Being crazy is a trademark?

    She jumped off Fearne''s bed and returned to her side of the room. A number of her belongings still needed to be sorted out, but the growling of her stomach made her acutely aware of how hungry she was. As a sorcerer, she knew the importance of maintaining a healthy diet, or so Ellend persistently told her. However, she couldn''t shake the feeling that his emphasis on a healthy diet was just a flimsy excuse to justify his insatiable appetite. As Elaine looked outside the window, no sunlight seeped through. The evening seemed to have the world in its grasp, almost as if it was setting the stage for the arrival of the Twin Sisters. Raze had made it clear that dinner was to be finished by seven, leaving them with just under an hour to find their way to the cafeteria, and only then did it dawn on Elaine that she should have asked the sorcerer for a campus map.

    "Say, Elaine?" Fearne asked. "Perchance, are you busy tomorrow?"

    "Not that I''m aware of," Elaine shrugged. "Why? Is there something you were planning on doing?"

    "Yes, actually," Fearne confirmed with a nod. "And seeing as how much you adore magic, I just figured you would want to join me."

    Elaine raised a brow at her. She couldn''t deny that she was most definitely intrigued.

    *

    * *

    When compared to the simpler acts of casting spells or invoking charms, Enchantment was an exceptionally intricate and challenging Archaic Art Form requiring both skill and profound understanding. It transcended mere wand-waving or the recitation of special verses in a specific order; it demanded a deep comprehension of the object you intended to imbue with magical properties. Every nuance mattered; if you misjudged even the slightest detail, the enchantment would fail spectacularly.

    As Elaine absorbed this knowledge, she was handed a quaint, earth-toned pot, its surface warm to the touch. She made certain to handle it with extra care; her limited supply of tokens was a precious resource, and the last thing she wanted was to squander it on a mundane object like a pot. Yet, whispers about this particular vessel intrigued her¡ªit was said to be enchanted to boil water without requiring any heat source. While a simple kettle and a match could achieve that, the potential of this pot was what held her attention. The pot felt surprisingly light in her hands, as if weightless compared to its perceived utility. Scanning its orange-colored, clay surface, her eyes were drawn to intricate cracks that snaked across it, giving the impression of a spider''s web. From these fissures leaked vibrant Essence that shimmered like trapped starlight, turquoise energy swirling forth in delicate clouds of mist, dancing playfully in the air.

    "Eh? What do you think?" asked the clerk, a small man with a long chin and spindly, dark hair. He leaned over the stall''s table, eagerness warping his face with a twisted smile.

    "Um, I''m sure it''s wonderful..." Elaine said, softly placing the pot back down. "But it isn''t something I need at the moment. Sorry."

    "Yeah? Well, if you change your mind, lass," she heard him call as she strode off, "you know where to find me!"

    Elaine rolled her eyes. Clerks and vendors were a predictable breed, no matter where her travels took her. Yet, she had to admit, this town possessed a certain charm to it. Its shopping district was impressively vast; the modest marketplace back in Page could hardly aspire to the same scale. Stalls and booths stretched out in every direction, forming a winding, expansive maze that seemed to buzz with life. Above her, multi-colored flags fluttered cheerfully in the breeze, strung between the tarped roofs of vendors. The streets vibrated with a diverse crowd of people¡ªfar more than she was accustomed to in her quieter hometown. Still, there was enough room for her to navigate comfortably, allowing her to sidestep the occasional drunken reveler who stumbled past, blissfully unaware of his surroundings.

    As she scanned the throngs, Elaine noticed a surprising number of students scattered throughout the marketplace, identifiable by their crisp Glyph uniforms. They mingled among the stalls, their laughter and animated conversations adding to the lively atmosphere. Elaine, however, chose not to blend in with that crowd today; instead, she wore her usual attire¡ªa plain, white top that contrasted gently with her earth-toned brown, knee-length skirt and well-worn leather boots. She frowned slightly at her reflection in a nearby shop window. Here she was, in a new place bursting with vibrancy, and yet her wardrobe felt woefully inadequate. Perhaps it was time to invest in some clothing that would help her fit in better with her noble classmates, who seemed to possess an effortless style. Yet, she grimaced at the thought¡ªshe was already walking a tightrope on her budget. Maybe, if she were to¡­

    She shook her head, banishing the thought. She had already made up her mind about what she came for. Her mother taught her once that if she were to ever venture into a marketplace without a plan, she''d wind up with empty pockets within the hour. Darah Harwood didn''t suffer fools, and Elaine was by no means a fool. Clutching her satchel close to her waist, Elaine followed the path ahead, swerving into a different street. Open-air booths stretched before her. On each table, there was a myriad of trinkets and doodads.

    To her left, an impressive collection of straw dolls stood in an animated dance, their limbs moving with an uncanny grace. Enchanted to walk and jump on their own, they delighted children who laughed and chased them across the cobblestone street. The vendor, a jolly man with a sun-worn face and a twinkle in his eye would undoubtedly rake in a handsome sum from the parents desperate to appease their squealing offspring¡ªa small price to pay for a moment of peace. Elaine couldn''t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the adults, caught in the tug-of-war between their wallets and their children¡¯s whims.

    To her right, a tall man with a weathered look gripped a sword that glinted like starlight. Its blade curved elegantly, a testament to the foreign craftsmanship from Rymevar, no doubt. He swung the sword through the air with practiced precision, the runes etched along its reflective surface shimmering as they caught the light. Each arc was fluid, exuding a sense of power and control. The enchantments woven into the metal whispered secrets of its capability¡ªthis was no ordinary weapon, but a relic of magic and might. Elaine¡¯s suspicions deepened; it seemed that nearly every item in the market was steeped in enchantment, each stall overflowing with wonders that beckoned to her curious spirit.

    As she pressed onward, Elaine couldn''t help but notice a trio of boys marching in her direction, forcefully shoving through the crowd with scowls etched on their faces and harsh curses escaping their lips. She narrowed her eyes at them. Two of the boys were dressed in Glyph Academy uniforms, the fabric slightly wrinkled from their roughhousing. The tallest among them¡ªa gangly kid with tousled, darkish brown hair¡ªhad something smeared across his long face. The vivid splatter contrasted sharply against his fair skin. As they got closer, Elaine noted with surprise that each one of the boys had spots of red, chunky ooze splattered all over them.

    "That bastard," the tall kid grumbled, stalking past Elaine, eyes squeezed into slits. "When I see him again, he''s dead! I''ll teach him to make a fool out of me!"

    The two others trailed behind him in a hurry. As they passed, Elaine''s nose recognized a familiar, sugary scent. A pastry-like fragrance. These boys, they''d been covered in...pie? She stared confused at them as they disappeared into the distance, not caring for whoever they knocked out of the way. It''d probably be best to stay clear of them. Their type tended to cause trouble.

    "Elaine! Over here!" she heard Fearne shout.

    She spotted the petite girl standing at a stall just a few meters away. Fearne had chosen to don a bright green dress that fluttered gently in the soft breeze, its cotton fabric embellished with flower patterns that spiraled around her waist. On her feet were red, open-toed flat sandals that highlighted her delicate ankles. In her dainty hands, Fearne held a striking object¡ªa wand unlike any Elaine was accustomed to seeing. This was a Fiend Wand, its sleek, polished shaft crafted from pale-colored wood. Atop its handle protruded a jagged, smoky crystal that seemed to swirl with ethereal energy, catching the light in a way that made it appear almost alive. Fiend Wands were known for their ability to amplify cloaking and invisibility spells, a coveted tool among some sorcerers in the Arcanum who employed them during covert reconnaissance missions. Spread out on the table before Fearne was an impressive display of wands, each showcasing unique designs, and finishes that spoke to the individuality of their creators.

    "Not bad, aye?" said the vendor. He had a sharp face like a ferret with a long nose that arched and slicked-back dark hair. "It cost me an arm and a leg to yank these beauties."

    "They''re all lovely," Elaine said. And expensive as hell...

    "You said your brother lent you his wand to borrow, right?" asked Fearne. "Well, why not buy one of your very own?"

    "Hmm? I suppose I could. Then again, none of these are in my price range. I''ll tell you what I do need, though. A wand holster." She motioned to her wand that stuck awkwardly out of her satchel, and its handle constantly kept ramming into her side.

    "If it''s a wand holster yer looking for, then I''ve got just the thing." The man ducked behind the stall in a flash. Standing again to his feet, he was carrying a small, tube-shaped holster. It was made of black leather and was approximately the same size as her wand. Fourteen to fifteen inches, give or take. "Here you go, miss. This ought to do the trick."

    "It''s perfect, thank you."

    "Ah, ah, not so fast," the man said, pulling the holster away before she could grab it. "Nothing around here is free, I''ll have you know."

    "Oh. Right, of course. How much?"

    "Three rubies, please."

    An audible gasp lunged out of Elaine''s throat. That was more than half of the tokens she owned! "You''ve got to be joking. All of that for a wand holster?"

    The man scoffed. "Come now, darling. This is the average price of just a regular holster. And this one here''s made of fine leather."

    "Can''t she have a student discount?" Fearne suggested. "We''re freshmen. At Glyph Academy."

    "Nope. I don''t do discounts," he denied, folding his arms. "Not even for you Glyph sorcerers. Look, if you can''t pay, then move along. You''re making me lose business."

    Elaine glared. She always found it funny how people treated her once they realized she wasn''t stacked with tokens. But she couldn''t deny it would be nice to own a holster, and the other shops she eyeballed in passing were selling theirs for even more excellent prices. This might be the best offer she could realistically afford. Sighing, she reached into her satchel, searching for the pouch of tokens.

    Suddenly, someone slammed a hand onto the stall table beside her, causing a startled Fearne to hop in her place. "Now, now. Let''s not be so hasty," the stranger said, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a smile. "Lend me your ear, friend. Just for a sec. I''ll help show you a new perspective."

 Chapter 8 - Perfect Instincts

    He was a lanky fellow with deep brown skin that contrasted with his wild, unkempt hair that had a hint of a wavy texture. His black eyes, framed by thick lashes, sparkled with mischief, and a broad smile spread across his face that made his cheeks dimple ever so slightly. He wore a loose-fitting, long-sleeved linen shirt, its natural fibers flowing gracefully with every movement. The shirt, a soft, white color, was slightly faded, and at his waist, a green-colored sash was tied snugly. His trousers were made of sturdy fabric, and they ended just above a well-worn pair of black leather boots that had clearly seen their fair share of trekking.

    Elaine''s gaze zeroed in on the slender wand nestled securely within its holster at his waist. He was a sorcerer. Questions swirled in her mind like leaves caught in a gust of wind; the most pressing was whether he was also a student at Glyph Academy. No, that wasn¡¯t the only question weighing on her¡ªanother thought intruded: what could possibly motivate him to assist her in this precarious moment? They were strangers, bound by neither friendship nor shared experience, leaving her to ponder the connection that might compel him to act to her benefit. The boy shot her a smirk and subtly mouthed something. "Let me handle this," Elaine read from his lips.

    "The same applies to you, kid," the vendor grunted, crossing his arms. "If you''re not here to buy something, then buzz off."

    "Come now, where are your manners, my good sir?" the boy chuckled. "Surely you don''t intend to run a business with that attitude. Why, with such a horrid scowl and the foul manner in which you speak, well, you''re not to win the favor of these girls any time soon."

    The vendor shrugged. "Don''t really got any interest in caring for the likes of folk who can''t even fork over three rubies."

    "Three rubies? And for what?" The boy cringed at the holster in the vendor''s hands, shortly before welcoming another humored snicker. "You don''t seriously expect me to believe that you''re charging them so much for a plain ole wand holster. I''ve seen noble coats sold for much less."

    "Well, then," the vendor said, shoving the holster into his back pocket. "If you''re so offended by my offer, then why not just point your little friends here in the direction of a different stall, one with lower prices? A fair bit of warning, though; you won''t find much better than mine."

    Elaine deflated at that. She knew that this vendor, sunder him, was telling the truth. She''d spent over two hours wandering the Shopping District. But she realized in the first thirty minutes alone that she didn''t possess nearly as many tokens as she otherwise needed; she hadn''t anticipated the prices being so steep. Just another cruel reminder of her commoner heritage.

    The stranger laughed to himself. He fetched a silver token from his pocket, flicked it with his thumb into the air, and then caught it between two of his fingers. "You''ve made it apparent, friend, that you''re quite the determined businessman. I''m sure there is honor in that, some way, somehow. But I warn you, you''re treading in dangerous waters."

    The vendor snorted. "Come again?"

    "Why, isn''t it obvious? How long have you had this shop of yours, huh? No, forgive me. If I might ask, how long have you lived in this town in general? Don''t you know where you are? Aren''t you aware of the kind of audience this place attracts?" The stranger leaned his elbow onto the stall table as he tied his other arm behind his back. His posture, both relaxed and assertive, suggested he had orchestrated the moment with careful consideration. Elaine watched him closely, her curiosity piqued "Nobles these days are terrifying animals, I swear," he smirked. "Not just because they can seize your entire livelihood with a flick of the wrist. Oh, no. That''s far from the worst of it. If you ask me, based on my personal experience, I''ve come to find that nobleings are the be-all and end-all in this day and age. Trust me, you do not want to cross them. I mean, can you imagine the repercussions? A nobleman''s daughter runs into her father''s arms, sobbing that the meanie vendor in town unfairly overprices his products. What position does that leave you in, friend? I''ll tell ya. You''ll be at the mercy of a miffed noble, struggling to rationalize how someone in their right mind would even think about pestering his daughter." The boy nodded to Elaine. "That one there, she''s of third cule. Some might even call her a royal. And here you are, trying to swindle her and all over a worn-out wand holster. Not the brightest move there, pal. Just saying."

    The vendor gulped. "She''s of...third cule?"

    "Well, she did get into Glyph Academy, did she not? Those guys don''t let just anyone walk their campus. But you should know that, surely."

    Elaine shot an astounded glare at the boy, her brow furrowing in disbelief. Was he completely insane? Anyone with two functioning eyes could see she wasn¡¯t even close to being a noble, let alone of third cule. That status would imply she belonged to the upper ranks of nobility, perhaps as a daughter of a crownbaron or a wealthy goldblood who managed a thriving business empire. But someone of that importance wouldn''t be found haggling with a street vendor over a simple leather holster in a market.

    She quickly glanced at Fearne, whose posture had gone rigid with tension. It seemed as though the girl was holding her breath, fear evident in her wide eyes. Elaine couldn¡¯t blame her; the stakes were far too high. If this situation went south¡ªand her instincts whispered that it might¡ªthen they could very well be arrested for impersonating nobility. The thought of being thrown into a dank cell for such a flimsy reason sent a shiver down her spine. This reckless interaction could very well spell the end of both their burgeoning sorcerer careers, leaving them with nothing but shattered dreams and tarnished reputations. They needed to flee before¡ª

    Wait, was the vendor...sweating? The long-faced man, who had, up until this point, carried an arrogant, snarky demeanor, had now broken out into a cold sweat. He shifted uncomfortably behind the stall, fiddling with something she couldn''t see below his waist. Meanwhile, the strange sorcerer was snickering a storm, hands raised behind his head. His stories, they were working. How were they working? The lies he told sounded like they could have been fabricated by some snot-nosed child trying to avoid a scolding from their parents. Was it this sulmo''s confidence? Was that why the vendor was now shaking in his boots, wiping droplets of sweat off his scalp? Elaine sideglanced at him, puzzled. Who is this guy?

    "All right, all right," the vendor stuttered frantically. "I''ll level with ya, kid. I don''t need any trouble coming my way. I''m just a humble storekeeper, yeah?" He glanced at Elaine with a taut swing of his head. It was unnerving just how alarmed he looked. "One ruby. I''ll drop the price to one ruby, not a dul less!"

    Elaine beamed a smile. "That''ll do."

    *

    * *

    Pretty soon, in the warm afternoon sun, Elaine found herself sitting on a weathered park bench, a light breeze rustling her hair. The new leather holster rested comfortably in her lap. A burst of excitement bubbled within her as she giggled to herself. Owning one of these holsters made her feel as if she were a genuine sorcerer, fully immersed in her craft, rather than simply playing dress-up. No, she was a dedicated student of Glyph Academy, and visions of becoming a Professional Sorcerer danced in her mind.

    With a flair of pride, she slid her ornate wand into the holster and secured it to her waist with a satisfying snap. At that moment, the sorcerer sitting next to her¡ªhis clothing slightly rumpled but his presence warm¡ªconfirmed with a broad grin that, yes, he too was a fellow student at Glyph Academy. He erupted into laughter, a rich, hearty sound that echoed through the park as he slapped his knee, relishing a joke that had eluded her. "Oh, man! That guy looked dumbfounded, didn''t he!" he joked, elbowing Fearne in her ribs. "I swear to Kyntho, pulling one over on scammers like that never gets old."

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Elaine scoffed. We technically scammed him, too...

    They had made their way from the Shopping District into a concrete-tiled open space bordered by neatly trimmed hedges and vintage-style street lamps. Flower pots bursting with hues¡ªlobelia blue, marigold orange, and soft lavender¡ªadded a charming touch to the landscape. A surging fountain, with its shimmering arcs of water, sent glistening ribbons into the sky, creating a gentle mist that danced in the warm afternoon sun. In front of them, a medium-sized food cart adorned with hand-painted designs attracted a diverse crowd eager to sample its offerings. The enticing aroma of grilled skewers and sweet crepes wafted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of the flowers. Elaine also picked up the lively sound of jazzy tunes¡ªsharp strums of a violin, the rhythmic beating of drums, and the sweet notes of a flute weaving together in a harmonious celebration. However, she couldn''t quite pinpoint the band¡¯s location¡ªperhaps they were playing on an avenue nearby, hidden from view yet vibrant enough to evoke smiles and sway the crowd.

    "We really appreciate you helping us out back there, Custas," Fearne said in her soft, pure-as-snow voice. "I don''t know what we would have done had you not come along. Well, I guess Elaine wouldn''t have gotten her holster."

    "Nah! Don''t mention it!" Custas chirped. He took another crunch out of the kebab he was holding¡ªsix golden, sphere-shaped snacks skewered to a wooden pole. The steamy scent laced with spice sizzled in Elaine''s nostrils. "Really, I should be thanking you two. There''s a great deal of good in people who treat another to a meal, free of charge."

    "What I don''t get," Elaine said, "is why you decided to help us. I mean, you don''t expect us to believe that you''re just some random good samaritan who goes around helping broke lowborns like me. Let alone, how did you trick that vendor? Even I could tell the story you told him, me being a noble and all, barely made any sense. Did you cast a spell on him? A charm? But then, how did you do it without using your wand?"

    Custas munched happily, eyes closed, humming a foreign tune out his smiling lips.

    Elaine frowned. "Are you even listening to me...?"

    "Hmm? Say something?"

    "I think she was commenting about your outlandish method of tricking the vendor," Fearne clarified. "Truthfully, I''m a bit curious myself. It wasn''t that your story was...err...unbelievable, but¡ª"

    "No, it was," Elaine said plainly, crossing her arms. "Extremely so."

    "Regardless," Fearne exhaled, "I have to ask, how did you convince him as you did?"

    Custas wagged a finger at her. "First rule of trickery: It''s not about what you say, it''s how you say it. It doesn''t matter how ridiculous your story sounds if you wear a strong smile and talk with enough conviction. Truth is what you perceive it to be. When others aren''t "seeing" what you are, then they tend to start panicking as if they''re the insane ones. You could say I have a knack for exploiting that weakness."

    "So, essentially, you''re just really good at lying?" Elaine said.

    Custas cracked an amused smirk. "Sure. Let''s go with that; it''s much simpler. Course, it also helps that I''ve got this."

    Custas opened his mouth wide, exposing his tongue in a way that made Elaine shudder. There were still remnants of wheat and fried meat clinging to its surface. But it wasn¡¯t just the food that alarmed her; it was the sight of his tongue itself. Leaning closer, along with Fearne, Elaine gasped as she noticed that engraved into the soft, pinkish flesh of Custas¡¯s tongue was a series of obsidian-colored emblems. Three concentric rings encircled his tongue, stretching from the tip to the very back of his throat, interconnected by thick, oily lines. Within each ring lay a more complex symbol, eerily reminiscent of clovers¡ªthe first two rings contained designs with three leaves, their edges sharp and angular, while the largest circle at the center harbored a single, striking four-leaf clover.

    "Now I see," Fearne gasped. "You were using charmspeak, weren''t you?"

    "Charmspeak...?" Elaine repeated, dumbfounded.

    It was a specific type of charm where a sorcerer would imbue their words with potent magic, significantly amplifying their persuasiveness and influence over those who heard them. The power of this charm allowed the caster to sway opinions, inspire loyalty, or even bend the will of others, making it a formidable tool in the hands of a competent speaker. As far as she was aware, this charm could be cast on any individual, provided the sorcerer possessed the requisite knowledge, concentration, and finesse. However, this was the first time she had witnessed someone taking it a step further by inscribing the necessary runes onto their own body, particularly on their tongue.

    "Right on the money," Custas chuckled, nodding. "It wasn''t easy, and it hurt like hell. But once I figured out all the little kinks, I can now¡ª"

    "Amazing!" Elaine squealed. "So, like, how exactly does it work? Are you actively burning through your Essence supply whenever it''s in effect? Can you use it on any person, or does it also work on animals? Did you use it on either of us? What does it feel like? Theoretically, if I were to think about¡ª"

    "Uh...Elarine, waast tit?" Custas gargled, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Yooor goina tour ot mye tonge!"

    Fearne palmed her forehead. "There she goes again."

    What?

    Elaine snapped out of it and realized she had Custas'' tongue clenched in her fingers. She stared at him voicelessly, stunned, and he stared back, wide-eyed. Five seconds¡ªmaybe more¡ªpassed before Elaine finally let go. "Ah! I''m sorry!" she screamed in embarrassment, scrambling to the opposite end of the bench. "Pretend that didn''t happen, all right!"

    Custas laughed, cradling his chin. "Well, that was different. For a second, I thought you were gonna yank it out of my head. That would have been...troubling."

    Her blush attacked without remorse. "I''m...I''m really sorry. It''s a bad habit of mine."

    "Eh, we all have ''em." Custas hopped off the bench, sticking the kebab back into his mouth. "As for why I decided to lend a helping hand, well, I already knew you were students like me. Not anyone waltzes downtown, freely showing off their wands. Not unless you''re a Professional Sorcerer or just the worst kind of thief."

    Elaine''s gaze drifted eastward, her eyes narrowing into a determined squint as she focused on the heavens. She could just make out a shadowy silhouette mingling with the drifting clouds. This town¡ªFearne had mentioned it was called Lakestone¡ªwas situated close enough to where the contours of its landscape were vaguely discernible. As she strained to see more clearly, the structure came into view, though she couldn''t discern the castle itself. From this distance, Glyph appeared as a large, rocky expanse shaped like a half sphere, perched precariously among the clouds. An island suspended in an endless sky.

    "I guess we can chalk it up to good ole Luck that I ran into you," Custas continued. "But you guys, you''re like me?"

    Elaine traded looks with Fearne, and then she raised a brow at him. "Like...you?"

    "Yup! You''ve got good instincts," Custas chuckled. "Maybe they''re not as perfect as mine, but they''re good nonetheless."

    "I''m not following," Fearne admittedly sheepily, a finger to her bottom lip.

    "Right, right. What I''m trying to say is that, while not applicable to all of our classmates, most of ''em are lazing about on campus. They probably figured they don''t have to do much since classes start tomorrow. But there''s a reason the professors gave us these few extra days off before the semester. It''s so we can prepare. Your instincts were telling you to come here and gather equipment and supplies that are sure to make your life in Glyph that much easier, yeah? And so, you''ll be at an advantage as compared to someone who decided to waste their time doing a whole lot of nothing."

    Elaine stared at him blankly. I just needed a wand holster...

    Custas placed a hand over his chest. "My instincts were shouting at me, saying I had to come here. I didn''t know why, but the answer became clear when I saw the two of you. My instincts were leading me to new friends."

    Elaine chuckled at him. "New friends, huh?"

    "Sure, why not? I could always use some well-natured pals." Custas snapped a finger. "You guys seem way more interesting than the other blowhard nobles I''ve had the displeasure of meeting thus far. Sticking with you might be fun."

    "I agree," Fearne said, clapping her hands together, borrowing some of Custas'' excitement. "Life''s better when you share it with people you like."

    "Ain''t that the truth?" Custas snickered. "I''ve heard the curriculum at Glyph can be pretty tough. Let''s help each other out and graduate as sorcerers together."

    He was a bit...irregular. Was that the best word? Well, it was the best she could propound. Nevertheless, as she smiled at the both of them¡ªFearne giggling as Custas energetically pumped a fist in the air¡ªshe couldn''t deny how good it felt to have friends. Actual friends. She''d be weathering a storm soon. At least now, she didn''t have to do it alone.

 Chapter 9 - A Pulse

    As dawn broke, Elaine found herself standing in front of a full-length mirror. She was dressed in her new Glyph student uniform, a masterfully tailored ensemble. The navy blazer, fitted and sharp, contrasted elegantly with the crisp, long-sleeved white shirt beneath it, and its lapels bore subtle embroidery that glinted softly in the morning light streaming through her window. Her skirt, which fell delicately to just above her knees, was made from a fine, flowing fabric that swayed gently with her movements. Draped over her left shoulder, a luxurious cape added a dramatic flair to her appearance, its deep hue complementing the overall color scheme. She completed her look with knee-high stockings that hugged her legs snugly, and instead of her usual clunky boots, she opted for the academy''s sleek black leather shoes.

    Slowly, Elaine studied her reflection with a frown creasing her brow. She gave an uncertain twirl, the skirt flaring out briefly before settling back against her thighs. Attempting a curtsy, she lifted the hemline with her fingers, but the movement felt clumsy and unnatural, as if she were an imposter in this noble attire. She couldn''t shake the feeling of self-consciousness that crept in as she traced the patterns embroidered into her blazer. This halting mime of elegance felt foreign to her, and an uneasy knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach. Would she ever feel truly comfortable in this embellished uniform?

    The uniform enveloped her in an unfamiliar fabric, a far howl from the clothes she usually favored. The material was stiff and scratchy against her skin like a suit of armor rather than clothing, and every movement felt like an uphill battle. As she attempted to raise her arms, the fabric tugged uncomfortably at her shoulders, and when she twisted her waist, she could barely manage a feeble turn. Fear and embarrassment washed over her as she imagined the consequences of a tear¡ªwould she be held accountable for repairs to such an expensive garment?

    "Wow, you look great," Fearne exclaimed. Elaine glanced over her shoulder and saw her roommate standing near Gulp the veladora snaptrapper. The uniform looked nice on her, and most importantly, it fit.

    "I don''t know," Elaine said, arms stretched before her. "I''ll need to have a chat with the front desk. These clothes, they don''t quite...match my size."

    Fearne strode over to her, laughing. "That''s because you haven''t said the magic words, silly."

    Elaine cocked her head. "Magic words? What magic words?"

    "Repeat after me, Elaine," Fearne said, holding a finger. "Stytus Ripare."

    Elaine nodded, looking herself in the mirror again as she recited, "Stytus Ripare."

    Without warning, her uniform began to shift as if possessing a mind of its own. The fabric of her dress softened and draped more loosely around her frame. The sleeves of her shirt elongated, cascading down her arms like gentle waves, while the waistline of her skirt subtly swelled. Each movement felt like a silent transformation, as the once-familiar contours of her outfit morphed into something entirely different, leaving her both intrigued and bewildered. "Now, how does it feel?"

    "Better," Elaine replied, smiling. "A lot better, actually."

    "I bet. These uniforms are enchanted to fit their wearer, no matter their size. It would seem as if Glyph spared no expense."

    Gulp started grumbling¡ªsounding similar to Milo whenever the mutt was hungry¡ªand Fearne hastened for it, carrying a sheet of paper she''d pulled out of her skirt''s pocket. A schedule? "Let''s see," she said. "We should probably make for breakfast soon. We''re expected to report to our respective homerooms at 8:30."

    "Homeroom?" She recalled Raze mentioning her homeroom on their way to the dormitories. Regrettably, she hadn''t paid much attention to whatever he''d been muttering. Although, in her defense, she had been overwhelmed at the time, and when she hadn''t been gawking at the academy castle, she''d been struggling to ignore her growing drowsiness. "Homeroom Class No. 7," Elaine remembered out loud. "That''s where I''m meant to be...I think..."

    "You think?" Fearne asked. The girl had crouched to the floor and pulled out a tiny bag of...dead mice. She held one of the petrified, cold rodents by the tail before tossing it at Gulp. The glutinous plant opened its maw and swallowed its meal, licking its bloated lips happily.

    "It''s a long story," Elaine sighed. "By the way, which homeroom are you in?"

    "The same as yours, as a matter of fact," Fearne replied, spinning to meet her with a grin.

    "Great! We can go together," Elaine exclaimed. Praise be to Aeris, we can go together. Hopefully, Fearne knew where precisely that was. She would need to depend on her roommate''s directions until she caught her bearings.

    Five more minutes passed, and the two were off. Fearne exited first, giving Gulp a thorough lecture before she did so. Although Elaine couldn''t hear the entire conversation, she picked up on a few words, including "behave" and "blood." The context of their discussion remained a mystery, and she held no interest in speculating about what it pertained to.

    Elaine sat perched on her bed, the soft mattress sinking beneath the weight of her lithe frame. She arranged her pens and pencils, sheets of paper, and a duo of miniature booklets, all of which were to be housed in her satchel. She was keenly aware that first impressions were paramount, and she couldn''t risk tarnishing her reputation by forgetting to bring a writing utensil on the first day of classes. She adjusted the wand holster strapped to her waist; its unusual angle made her feel like it might slip out, and she knew it would take some getting used to.

    Elaine paused, her heart swelling as she glanced back at the portrait resting on the side table next to her sofa. The frame, slightly worn at the corners, held a cherished moment from a time when laughter came effortlessly. With a tender gesture, she kissed her fingers softly and brushed them against the glass, as if trying to coax the memories back to life. In the portrait, Ellend, full of youthful exuberance, was caught in a playful armlock by Liam, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. Elaine stood beside them, her face lit up with joy, pointing at the boys while her laughter rang out¡ªan almost palpable sound. On either side stood her parents: her mother, radiating warmth in her country dress, and her father, attempting a smile that seemed more forced than genuine. Milo lay sprawled and yawning at their feet, his ears flopping lazily.

    The image represented not just a frozen moment but a portal to a more straightforward and infinitely brighter time in her life, one that Elaine often longed to revisit, even if just for a fleeting second. With a small exhale, she let the memories flood her before finally turning to join Fearne, who stood patiently by the doorway. Elaine nodded at the photo, resolute. I''ll make you proud; just wait. Strapping her satchel over her shoulder, she strode out of the room, the door materializing back into the frame behind her.

    *

    * *

    After breakfast, which for Elaine consisted of a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, a pair of muffins, and some gownberries¡ªfollowed by a brief stomachache¡ªshe and Fearne were faced with a new predicament. Although Fearne had been on campus longer than Elaine, she wasn''t aware of where they needed to go. The campus was like a surging labyrinth, with endless hallways leading to nowhere and countless identical wooden doors spanning either side, each with a room number inscribed above it.

    The scene was chaotic, with herds of students marching in different directions. Elaine attempted to strike up a conversation with a few of them, but none seemed interested in sparing her a moment. She noticed that some of the students were wearing shoulder capes of different colors than her own, which were blue. A boy who marched past her donned a red cape, while two girls who were entering a classroom together had on matching yellow capes. Elaine also noticed several glares and sly nods directed toward them as they traversed the halls. It seemed that some of the more privileged individuals could quickly identify a commoner with just a passing glance. Elaine furrowed her brow at the thought of dealing with such prejudice. However, she took a deep breath and pushed aside her frustration. Don''t react, that''s what they''re waiting for, Elaine reminded herself, diffusing a worn-out sigh.

    "Hmm, perhaps this way?" Fearne said out loud.

    Currently, they were on the third story of a castle possessing more than five. Nothing stood out about this hallway that differentiated it from the others. But the fact that Elaine couldn''t spot as many students¡ªthree or five drifted in various directions¡ªas she could on the other floors made her mouth twist. This could mean one of two outcomes: The first was that they were more lost than she initially suspected, and the second was that classes had already started without them. What time was it? There weren''t any windows nearby, so she couldn''t check the sun. And where had the rest of the students disappeared to? Where were the professors?

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    "Maybe we should try asking the front desk?" Elaine suggested.

    Fearne frowned. "No, we''re already late enough as is."

    "I''d rather be late than not show up at all."

    "I suppose..." She sighed as she leaned a shoulder against a wall. "This is my fault. I should have paid more attention during Orientation."

    "Did they explain the layout of the campus then?"

    "No, not that I recall," Fearne replied softly. "But it''s apparent that everyone else besides us was already informed of where they needed to be."

    As unsettled as he made her, Elaine longed for Raze''s guidance. She''d weather his ferocious scowl if he could guide her to homeroom before roll call. Elaine trailed after Fearne as she strode ahead. The poor girl''s face was etched with worry, deflating in on herself as she came to a halt in the middle of an empty hallway. Her shoulders slumped, and she glared at the floor. Perhaps only now did she realize just how lost they were. Yeah, we definitely need to go to the front desk, Elaine thought, smiling in defeat. Wait, where was it again? Wasn''t it by the¡ª

    A Pulse.

    Suddenly, a strange pulsation throbbed at the back of Elaine''s mind, a subtle yet persistent sensation that made her miss whatever Fearne had been saying. She instinctively covered her temple with her palm, her fingers pressing hard against her skin as she scrunched her face into a strained grimace, trying to will the encroaching discomfort away. It felt as if an unseen force was tugging at her consciousness, trying to pull her into the shadows that seemed to dance at the corners of her vision. Overwhelmed by the eerie sensation, Elaine let out a low groan, her instincts kicking in as she spun around, desperate for clarity.

    At the end of the hallway, he stood there¡ªCustas¡ªhis figure relaxed with hands casually shoved into the pockets of his pants. His uniform consisted of a blazer¡ªmuch like her own¡ªand a pair of straight, gray-colored pants. A red tie hung from the collar of the long-sleeved white shirt he wore underneath the blaze, though the knot wasn''t as neatly made as it could have been. All in all, the uniform looked nice on him. At least, she thought it did. ¡°Custas?¡± Elaine called out, tilting her head slightly, a mixture of relief and confusion swirling within her.

    "The one and only," he joked, his leather shoes tapping on the stone floor as he advanced to them. "Man, is it just me, or is the food here, not all that it''s cracked up to be? I''ve had better grub from street vendors. I suppose I''m just not accustomed to a goldblood''s exquisite palette."

    "Custas," Fearne exclaimed, making for him in a hurry. "Not to sound desperate, but we''re sort of lost."

    "Hmm? Lost?"

    A blush warmed her friend''s face. "We''re trying to get to Homeroom Class 7. It''s just that we haven''t a clue where that could be."

    "Seven, you say? Ah, you''re in luck. That happens to be my homeroom as well." He swung both his arms behind his head, painting his previous puzzled expression with an accomplished, almost arrogant smile. "Yup, my instincts have yet to fail me. If it''s Classroom 7 you''re looking for, please allow me to show you the way."

    "You know where it is?" Elaine asked, hopeful.

    "Of course I do," he cheerfully replied. "I mean, you''d have to be a special kind of sulmo to start a semester without first having...uh..." Custas trailed off as he noticed her fake a chuckle, and Fearne repeatedly stroked her ponytail in embarrassment. "Never mind that," he grinned, shamefaced. "Come on, if time is on our side, we should make it there before roll call starts."

    *

    * *

    They were lost. Again.

    Custas appeared to be a well-meaning person, but Elaine couldn¡¯t shake her nagging doubt about his sense of direction. As they strolled through vacant, identical corridors, he confidently led them inside a classroom, only for them to quickly realize they were in the wrong place. To their astonishment, the room was not empty; instead, it was filled with towering humanoid puppets, each looming an imposing nine feet tall. Their lifelike features were exaggerated, with painted expressions frozen in mid-action, making them all the more eerie. The figures were arranged haphazardly along the walls of the cramped and shadowy space, causing Fearne to shiver involuntarily with fear as she instinctively grasped Elaine''s arm.

    Custas, too, was startled by the unsettling sight, letting out an unexpected yelp that echoed in the confined room as he quickly slammed the door shut behind them. Grinning nervously, he led them next into another unfamiliar space, one that turned out to be just as disorienting¡ªit wasn¡¯t their homeroom class either. This new room had a bizarre quality; the faces integrated into the walls seemed to be a grotesque part of the architecture itself, as if they had been molded directly into the cold, gray bricks. Each face had blank eyes and mouths set permanently into a straight line.

    Suddenly, one of the gray faces closest to the front door shifted its red eyes toward them, breaking the eerie stillness. Then, like a sinister wave, the face next to it followed suit, and then the one after that. A ripple of movement spread across the room as countless eyes began to shift and focus on the newcomers, their gaze heavy and unblinking, capturing the attention of every detached expression within the dimly lit confines. The unsettling sensation of being watched enveloped her, tightening around Elaine''s throat as she stood frozen, caught in the disturbing web of the room¡¯s silent observers. The room itself consisted of several rows of seats arranged in descending order towards the base floor. There, she discerned standing by the pulpit a tall and lanky gentleman with long, spindly arms. He wore an orange-colored coat as well as a hat that somewhat resembled the berets performers would wear in Urista.

    He was wearing a mask.

    The man was unsettling, to say the least. The mask he wore was a blank canvas, devoid of expression. Two empty eye sockets stared back at them like dark voids, and where his mouth should have been there was only a gaping hole the size of one''s fist. Elaine couldn''t help but fixate on this chilling creature, wondering how someone so eerie could possibly hold the title of professor at this academy if, indeed, he was one. The silence stretched out into an almost tangible weight, broken only by the soft, raspy sound of the masked man''s breath as he scanned them with a lifeless, methodical gaze that sent chills down Elaine''s spine.

    "Sorry," Custas stuttered, slowly shutting the door. "Must have got turned around. Apologies for the intrusion."

    Glyph Academy prided itself on its comprehensive studies and education of magic, but that odd encounter had left Elaine more confused than ever before. As she hurried down the corridor, eager to put as much distance from that classroom as possible, she couldn''t help but wonder what the so-called "professor" would be teaching. However, she wouldn''t be in any particular rush to return to that classroom.

    "Custas, be honest with me," Fearne grumbled. She was a natural sweetheart, but there was no mistaking that annoyed frown she now brandished¡ªeyes that twitched, teeth grating against each other. "You said you knew where the classroom was. Was that a lie?"

    "N...No! Of course not!" Custas blurted in defense. "I just got...err...mistaken, is all. I mean, can you blame me? This surgin'' place is larger than a titan!"

    "Right. What was that you said earlier? You know, something about being a sulmo?"

    "Hey, well, at least we''re making progress. Beats wandering aimlessly."

    "How is what you''re doing any different from what we were doing? We still have no idea where our homeroom is."

    "Eh, I can tell you for a fact that it''s definitely on this floor...I think..."

    "Jeez, you''re so helpful."

    "Well, you know," Custas snickered, smudging a finger under his nose, "I try my best."

    "I was being sarcastic..."

    Elaine''s attention was drawn away from her bickering friends by a familiar sensation¡ªa Pulse. She scanned her surroundings, and her eyes were caught by a glimmering, blue-colored light. It was a tiny, iridescent apparition, no larger than her hand, hovering in midair with wings flapping like a dragonfly''s. The being was humanoid in shape, a small woman with glowing blue skin, a curvy figure, and a mane of flowing hair that fluttered in an unseen breeze. It peered its eyes that sparkled like emeralds, and Elaine then realized what she was looking at. "A fairy," she whispered in awe.

    She shifted her gaze back to her two friends, who were still engaged in a heated argument. What was wrong with them? Why couldn''t they see the fairy as she could? Were sightings of fairies common in this part of Incante? She knew that the fae were a secretive and ancient race, only revealing themselves to those they trusted or felt comfortable with. Yet, there was a fairy right in front of her. She couldn''t explain why she could see it, but she couldn''t deny the thrill of witnessing something so unexpected and magical.

    The fairy giggled in its hands and flew off down the hall. "Wait," Elaine called. "Don''t leave."

    Elaine''s limbs sprang into action without a conscious thought, propelling her forward in a sprint to chase after the fairy. The Pulse, an enigmatic ringing in her ears, grew loudest in the direction the fairy flew. Couldn''t anyone else hear it, or was she just going insane? Abruptly, she slid to a halt as the fairy darted through a partially opened doorway at the end of the empty hall ahead. Elaine observed that the door was unlike any other she had encountered so far in the academy, constructed from a dark stone material in place of wood. Onyx perhaps?

    Elaine approached the door with bated breath, her eyes transfixed on the intricate designs carved into its surface. These were no ordinary markings¡ªthey seemed to be a language of their own, one that she couldn''t quite comprehend. As she grasped the handle, a shiver ran down her spine. Despite its imposing appearance, the door yielded easily, as if eager to reveal the secrets that lay beyond. Elaine stepped inside, her eyes widening in awe as she surveyed the vast expanse. It was an enormous chamber, easily four hundred square meters in size, spacious enough to accommodate a crowd of over fifty people if they were to stand shoulder to shoulder. The air was thick with the heady scent of incense, whilst the walls were adorned with stunning, ancient runes gleaming with an otherworldly turquoise hue that cascaded down to the floor.

    A set of steps led up to a square-shaped platform at the center of the room. It was here that an enormous statue of a woman stood, Elaine having to tilt her head back to meet the statue''s eyes held ten feet over her head. Her flaccid dress appeared so genuine that it seemed to sway gently in a fabricated breeze, and her hair flowed to her waist, every strand perfectly molded. Tall and proud, her posture exuded an unyielding resolution, and her expression was a tumultuous mix of emotions, capturing the Essence of her powerful character.

    Elaine suddenly got the sense she wasn''t supposed to be there. But the Pulse. It had reached out to her for a reason, had it not?

    "Hey, you! What do you think you''re doing!" someone shouted behind her. It was a thunderous and heavy bellow, one that reminded Elaine of the fierce growl of an ogrehound, or the way the wind howled and slammed against shutters during a fierce storm. Startled by the noise, Elaine turned quickly and saw a massive man standing at the entrance, staring at her with an intense gaze. He was like a mountain with his imposing size and overwhelming presence.

    And in a meaty fist, he brandished a wand.

 Chapter 10 - The Nameless Hound

    Elaine''s eyes widened in astonishment as she absorbed the sight of the colossal stranger. He stood straight, the fabric of his unbuttoned overcoat straining to contain his bulging arms and hulking physique. The coat, a dark, weathered canvas, partially hid underneath a dark green-colored shirt. His baggy trousers, made of a coarse material that looked like it had seen better days, were tucked into sturdy boots that were caked in damp grime, evidence of long hours spent traversing muddy terrain. Was he a gardener, out of place yet somehow dignified in his disarray? A quick glance at his right hand dispelled that notion; he held a wand, seamlessly crafted from light-colored timber and polished to a subtle sheen. At the handle, a shatterstar fragment¡ªa glimmering amethyst stone¡ªprotruded, its iridescent surface glinting in shades of violet and lavender. It was known to be harvested from the treacherous cliffs of Starfall Valley far to the east.

    Fritz! He thinks I''m an intruder, doesn''t he? This wasn''t good. Only sulmos made a Professional Sorcerer their enemy. Especially one enlisted at Glyph Academy, of all places. Elaine shot her hands in the air, hoping it was enough to communicate to the man that she wasn''t a threat.

    "You''re not supposed to be here, lass. This room is prohibited to students," he growled, advancing in a heavy march. "If I were in your shoes, I''d start explaining myself right about now."

    "My name is Elaine," she blurted, squeezing her eyes closed as she did. "Elaine Harwood! I was only trying to find my homeroom class! I''m a first-year! I hardly know where I''m going so...so...err..."

    "A first-year, you say?" the man grumbled, clearly still suspicious of her. For some reason, the runes on the walls went dark, meaning that the room was now pitch-black, save for the faint light emanating out of the enormous cluster of lumas crystals fixed into the ceiling. The orange-colored mineral gave off a glassy glow, raining down as a pillar of light that completely drenched the statue, bright just enough for Elaine to see.

    The sorcerer drew near, gradually stepping into the flickering radius of the lumas'' glow. As he approached, his facial features became more distinct. Hidden under the cap that covered his head was a mop of dark brown hair. His eyes¡ªa deep, burnished gold¡ªexuded warmth and understanding, and his firm jaw was obscured by a silvering beard that flowed down his chest. Elaine stood in awe as the fairy from earlier appeared once more, its form taking shape before her very eyes, laughter bursting out of her smiling lips. The ethereal creature twirled gracefully around Elaine, leaving behind a trail of iridescent light. In a flash, the fairy darted towards the sorcerer like a shooting star, its movements fluid and graceful. Landing on his shoulder with a soft thump, her bare feet kicked playfully over the side. The sorcerer grumbled in response to her whispered words, his face etched with annoyance. "Really? Is that so?"

    No way. Can he understand her? Elaine thought in amazement. To her ears, the fairy sounded like a bird. All that she had told him in her chirping ensemble of a sentence was lost on her.

    "Ah, a student. Now I get it," the sorcerer said, and Elaine winced when his glare flared at her. Fortunately, it sluggishly molded into a proper smile, the tips of his mouth curving his scruffy beard ever so slightly. "No need to be frightened, lass. We tend to get a few Blue stragglers every year. However, this is the first I''ve ever caught one poking around in here. This room is special, you see."

    Stolen story; please report.

    Elaine bowed her head at him. "I''m really, really sorry."

    "You know," he chuckled, a sort of deep-pitched cackle that made his beard twitch, "despite its status as a premier magic-teaching institution, this academy can be dangerous. Particularly to those who poke their noses in places they shouldn''t." As he spoke, it was almost as if there was an invisible rhythm that echoed through the air, pounding away relentlessly. The Pulse had returned, but it seemed that he was oblivious to the noise, just as Fearne and Custas had been. "In any case, I''ll let you off with a warning this time, lass. Just be sure to stay clear of this room from now on, yeah? The Sakura Shrine is off limits." The man paid an unamused leer at the fairy, who was still sitting primly on his shoulder. "And you wouldn''t have had anything to do with this, would you, Fara?"

    The creature paid him with a cheek-to-cheek grin, but she said nothing. "It wasn''t her fault," Elaine said. "Like I said, I only got lost."

    "Is that right? Well, Lady Harwood, it won''t do you any good just standing there silly. Come on, I''ll take you to your homeroom if that''s what you want."

    Elaine''s entire face lit up, both with happiness and relief. "Thank you!" she exclaimed. "I''d appreciate that very much...err..."

    "Ah! Never gave you my name, now did I?" The sorcerer folded his giant pair of arms. Even though the trench coat''s sleeves covered them, Elaine could tell there was a brawny frame hiding within the fabric. He fixed his expression with a mixture of conflict as well as frustration as if he was trying to recall some distant memory. "Hmm? My name? What was it again?"

    "You...you don''t know your own name?"

    "No, I know it, lass. I''m not that old," he laughed. "It''s just, well, I haven''t had to use it in so long that I keep forgetting what it is. You understand, right?"

    Elaine whittled an artificial smile. Nope, not even a little...

    "Ah, sunder it! It''s not important anyhow," he said, giving her his back as he started for the exit doors with a stomp. "The kind folks around here call me Hound. You can too if it suits your fancy. I''m the groundskeeper of this institution. But I''m not opposed to helping a student now and again. If you have a problem, you can come pay me a visit. If it''s within my power, I''ll help you resolve whatever''s bugging ya."

    Hound the Groundskeeper, huh? She wouldn''t blame anyone if the giant initially put them off. Such an imposing figure, coupled with a voice as deep as spinebear''s growl, would make even the most open-minded individuals shudder with reluctance. Granted, he was a bit off. Not remembering his name. Being able to communicate with a fairy. He certainly wasn''t the most...normal. Then again, none of the Glyph Academy staff she''d met so far were explicitly normal either. At the very least, he was willing to help her.

    Elaine followed after him with purposeful strides, only for the Pulse to throb at her consciousness once again. She quickly turned around, anticipating to find a person standing in front of the stone statue. She felt a presence, like someone was there with her that she couldn''t see. Elaine felt it. A faint step on dirt. A slight breath streaming out someone''s lips. Eyes of a ghost, giving her a spectral once-over. She wasn''t alone. No, definitely not.

    "Hey," called Hound, a step outside the shrine room. "It''s bad manners to show up late on your first day, you know."

    "Oh!" Elaine exclaimed. "R...Right! Coming!"

    Good luck, Harwood. Remain vigilant. Goosebumps appeared on her skin like miniature hills, and a shout lodged in her throat. Who''s voice had that been? She turned around to see if someone was there, but like before, the shrine room was empty. Her imagination, that must have been it. Her imagination. The stress of starting a school year was getting to her, causing her to hear things. She dispelled the odd occurrence with a shake of the head, and Elaine shut the doors behind her.

 Chapter 11 - The Abyssal Sorcerer

    Custas had indeed been correct. Their homeroom was located on this floor, but it resided in the opposite wing of the castle. Hound, tall and bulking, led the three of them down the hallways. As they passed closed doors, Elaine could faintly hear the muffled voices of professors inside, passionately engaging with their students. She couldn''t help but wonder just how late they were; it felt almost surreal in the hushed atmosphere.

    Hound assured them that they still had a few minutes to spare, his long strides quickening as he picked up the pace. When Fearne pointed out that all of them were assigned to Homeroom Class 7, it prompted an uproarious burst of laughter from Hound, the sound echoing off the stone walls. He didn¡¯t elaborate on the joke, just shot them a playful grin and advised them to "brace themselves" for what lay ahead. This cryptic guidance only deepened Elaine''s intrigue, sparking a flurry of questions in her mind about the nature of the enigmatic class they were about to enter.

    "So, Mr. Hound, was it?" Custas said, walking alongside the large sorcerer, as well as a couple of paces ahead of both Elaine and Fearne. "You seem to know a lot about the academy, yeah? The three of us are newbies, getting ready to start our rigorous training to become Professional Sorcerers. I was wondering if you''ve got any pointers for us?"

    Hound side-glanced him. "Pointers?"

    "You know, tips, tricks, advice. Stuff that''ll help lighten our load."

    "I''m the groundskeeper, kid. Not really too versed in the specifics of your lessons," Hound said, shrugging his shoulders. "I suggest talking to the professors. They''re sure to know way more than I do."

    "Come on, man. You said you''ve worked here for a long time. Surely you''ve got some insight."

    Hound scratched his beard, which shifted around his sour frown. "All I''ll tell you is this," he grumbled. "You Blues will have an easy semester if you stay out of trouble. From my experience, the biggest troublemakers are those who don''t know when to stop talking. Get the picture, kid?"

    Custas paid Hound''s grim advice with a nervous chuckle, only to sedate his pace and retreat a step behind Fearne. Yeah, Hound was a nice guy. But Elaine didn''t want to be the one that made him angry or, in Custas'' case, worked on his nerves.

    "Err, Mr. Hound," Fearne said reluctantly. "You called us Blues. Are you perhaps referring to our capes?"

    Elaine glanced at the blue-colored mantle over her left shoulder. She''d been wondering about that as well.

    "You lot are blue capes; I just call them Blues," Hound answered, turning down a corridor on his right. "Each cape represents a school year. The blue capes are for the first-years, red for the second-years, then there''s green for the third-years, and yellow for the fourth. Finally, there''s the black cape for fifth-year students. Your professors will go far more into depth than I ever could, but that''s basically the gist. At the start of every school year, you will be given a different cape to signify that you''ve advanced to a new level. Comes in handy for when you''re tryna figure out who''s who." Hound stopped by the second to last door before the end of the hallway on his right. Unlike the other rooms they''d passed, Elaine couldn''t hear any voices behind it. Not a peep. Were they in the middle of taking attendance? Was there even anyone inside? Hound coughed into his hand and said, "This is the spot. I''d do well to memorize it as you''ll be expected to report here every morning."

    Fearne bowed to him, hands clasped in front of her. "We appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to help us."

    "Think nothing of it, lass," Hound chuckled. "If anything, it''s Glyph''s responsibility to look after you students. The fact that you didn''t know where to go is a blunder on our part. So relax, and tackle your first day with the ferocious spirit of a dragon."

    Hound stepped aside, gesturing with a subtle nod toward the door. Homeroom Class No. 7 was labeled above in golden-colored writing and plastered on a blue plaque. Taking a deep breath, Elaine moved forward, her fingers wrapping around the cool, silver-colored door handle. With a gentle pull, the door creaked open, revealing the curious eyes of onlookers inside. She quickly counted twenty students, all clad in uniforms identical to her own, but what set the males apart¡ªaside from not wearing skirts, obviously¡ªwere the red ties that hung from their collars, cascading down their chests, much like the one worn by Custas himself.

    The room was spacious, its wooden floorboards polished to a gleaming shine. Morning sunlight streamed in through the tall, oval-shaped glass windows on the far side of the room, casting silvery-golden patterns on the floors and illuminating the faces of her fellow students with a soft, radiant glow. A black-colored chandelier hung from the ceiling; none of the candles fixed around its circular rim were lit. Two tall shelves filled with many multi-colored books stood at the rear of the room, and another had been posted adjacent to an untouched chalkboard a few shuffles behind a desk where Elaine was expecting to find their professor. The desk was empty.

    As Elaine counted the number of students present in the vicinity, and upon adding herself, Fearne, and Custas into the equation, it meant that this homeroom class consisted of twenty-three. Was every class this ginormous, she wondered. Glyph had an impressively low acceptance rate; Elaine hadn''t anticipated there to be this many. But if everyone present had, in fact, earned a place at the academy, it must have meant that they were exceptional sorcerers in their own right. This fact excited her, but Elaine wouldn''t discount the intimidation that made her heart pound heavily against her chest. Would she be able to compete with them? Would she be able to survive against goldbloods? Protiges? The best of the best? The student desks were organized into six rows; the first and closest to the front of the class consisted of three whilst the rest had four. They were situated evenly. No two desks were overly close to one another¡ªproviding each student enough space to stretch out their arms or legs¡ªand so traversing through the pathways between each desk wouldn''t prove to be a problem.

    As Elaine took another sweep of the place, her eyes landed on one student in particular. She''d met him before, well, not exactly. But she recognized his dark blonde hair. He''d been the noble she spotted exiting his flying carriage the day she arrived on campus, and he looked just as disinterested then as he did now. He was sitting at the second row''s last desk, so he wasn''t that far from the door. He wasn''t that far from Elaine. Sitting with a slouch and a chin resting in his palm, his eye sluggishly shifted towards her. Their stares collided, and he expelled a yawn.

    Huh. I guess he doesn''t remember me, Elaine thought. Not that I expected him to. I haven''t even given him my name. Something deep down within the pits of her stomach spiraled like the enormous whirlpools on the Diamer Coast. Anger? No, that wasn''t it. Rage was an emotion that burned. This one melted through the cracks in her fingers, spilling onto the floor into a pathetic, muddy puddle. It was like seeing storm clouds on a perfect summer morning or a broken wand abandoned in an alleyway. Disappointment. Yes, this was disappointment. Wait a sec! Why am I disappointed?!

    "Wow, we really lucked out!" Custas exclaimed as the door closed behind them. "We even got here before the professor did."

    Fearne frowned. "Strange. Even if we weren''t technically late, I would have thought the teacher would be here by now."

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    "So did we," voiced someone within the crowd of students. "We''ve been waiting here for over half an hour. Join the club."

    "I''m sure our professor is merely running late. There''s no need to throw a fuss over it. Let''s have some modest decorum, yes? The best we can do for now is await their arrival as dedicated students," said a girl in the third row. She had a fair complexion and her pale blue eyes, striking and piercing, held a coldness reminiscent of an icy stone. Thick, streaming auburn hair, characterized by a rich red tint, flowed down her shoulders in vibrant waves, shimmering like burnished copper when it caught the sunlight. As she spoke, her voice was melodic yet precise, each word carefully chosen and articulated with such clarity that left Elaine wondering if the conversation was rehearsed in advance.

    "Perhaps one of us should consult the front desk. Inquire as to the whereabouts of our instructor," suggested a boy sitting next to her. His slender face was complemented by high cheekbones, giving him an air of sophistication. His dark hair was appropriately styled, each strand neatly in place, while a pair of oval-shaped glasses with thin, silver frames rested delicately on his nose, framing his eyes that sparkled with intellect. Leaning forward in his seat, his posture imbued with intent, he continued in a measured tone, ¡°Even you have to acknowledge this as a notable irregularity.¡±

    "It is...highly unprofessional, I must admit," the girl said, tapping a finger on her table. "Despite that, however, I believe if matters went awry, we would have already been contacted. I think it best to remain here, lest we incite an even bigger confusion." She then glanced at Elaine, nodding. "Come, join us. Your names should already be on the desks that you were assigned to."

    "Well, isn''t that convenient," snickered Custas as he strode past Fearne.

    Elaine made her way around the perimeter of the classroom, deliberately trying not to let her gaze linger too long on the familiar blonde-haired boy as she passed by him. Finally, she reached her designated spot at the end of the fourth row. She planned to peel the name tag off later, once she had grown accustomed to the arrangement of the classroom and settled into her new routine. She pulled out her chair, the wood creaking slightly in protest, and just as she was about to sit down, a startled gasp almost escaped her lips. To her left was a stocky young man with a mop of curly brown hair that sat askew on his head. His face was square, and his thick, muscular arms were strained against the fabric of his school uniform, which appeared to be a size too small. The way his bulky fists gripped the edge of the desk made her wince; they looked as if they could easily crush boulders.

    His hazel-colored eyes, sharp and narrow, locked onto hers with a questioning intensity that made her uneasy. The curiosity in his expression was palpable, and Elaine quickly diverted her attention to the back of the person seated ahead of her, focusing intently on the chalkboard where the teacher¡¯s name would soon be written. She silently willed for their homeroom teacher to arrive quickly, hoping to dissolve the tension that hung in the air between her and her new deskmate.

    They didn''t, and the seconds dragged on, ticking away like a relentless metronome, indifferent to the growing irritation and muffled groans of the class. This wasn''t how Elaine had envisioned her first day at Glyph Academy. Instead of the excitement she had anticipated, she found herself trapped in a quiet room save for the faint sound of shuffling feet from the hall. The atmosphere was heavy with sighs and exasperated moans as her classmates exchanged frustrated glances. As a little girl, she had imagined her arrival at this prestigious academy filled with wonder and magic, but the stark reality she faced was that of monotonous waiting, a far cry from the enchanting world she had dreamt of.

    "Argh, sunder this!" growled a boy at the front of the class. "If I knew we''d be spending all this time doin'' absolutely nothing, I wouldn''t have been in such a hurry to finish my breakfast!"

    "Forget breakfast. I wouldn''t have gotten out of bed so early," yawned a sleepy voice behind her. "Oh, well. At least I can catch up on some Zs now..."

    "You''re missing the point, Laurence! Why should we be forced to sit here twiddling our thumbs, waiting on a professor that obviously doesn''t give a rat''s ass about us?" His tone was harsh, like a caged ogrehound that hadn''t been fed in days.

    "Eh, I''m sure we''re just overreacting." That nonchalant, laidback tone could only belong to Custas. It sounded like he was sitting in front, but Elaine couldn''t pinpoint where. But she''d spotted Fearne at a desk in the row behind hers. "Maybe there''s been a mixup on the schedule," he suggested calmly, "and our missing professor is just scrambling to try and fix the problem. These sorts of mistakes happen every now and again."

    "That still doesn''t alleviate one of their responsibilities," the glasses-wearing kid countered.

    "I heard an explosion from outside. I bet the other first-years are having a blast," grumbled the harsh-voiced boy. "I came here to learn magic, dammit. Not to count dots on the wall. If our homeroom teacher is too lazy to show up, then I''ll go and drag ''em here myself¡ª"

    An avian screech pierced the silence, reverberating through the air like the shattering of glass, and Elaine''s thighs slammed against the underside of the desk. She jumped in surprise, her breath hitching. The creature¡ªa magnificent bird with glossy ebony wings¡ªsoared gracefully across the room, its bright azure eyes scanning the space with an almost predatory intensity. In a heartbeat, Elaine instinctively ducked, feeling the rush of air as the bird darted overhead. A single dark feather floated lazily down from its wing, landing softly on her desk.

    "What the?!" she heard Custas exclaim.

    "Who left a window open?" another girl squealed. "How did a bird get inside the classroom?!"

    As the creature flapped its wings, an array of iridescent feathers began to dance through the air to the floor in a spiraling pattern. With a graceful dive beneath the chandelier, it soared past the chalkboard, leaving a whisper of movement in its wake. Finally, it propelled itself toward the entrance door, landing expertly on the shoulder of a tall man who had suddenly appeared in front of it. A chill crept down Elaine''s spine, sending a shiver through her body that settled low at her tailbone. Her gaze instinctively shot over to the man clad in a long, flowing black sorcerer¡¯s cloak. He was imposing, with a pale complexion, and his hair, long and pitch-black, poured like dark rivers down past his shoulders, nearly reaching his thighs. His narrow face was etched with sharp angles, framed by strands of hair, and a stern expression held his features taut. The irises of his eyes resembled black suns burning dimly in the Void.

    He remained silent, his dark eyes sweeping the room; nobody dared to utter a word. Even the most boisterous among them, that harsh-voiced boy who had been incessantly interjecting earlier, seemed to shrink into his seat, his bravado extinguished. The silence was oppressive, a suffocating shroud that pressed down on them all, leaving a lingering sting in its wake. His penetrating gaze settled uncomfortably on Elaine, causing her heart to thunder in her chest in a sudden wave of consternation. She felt paralyzed, her body rigid in her chair, her lips pressed tightly together in an effort to stifle the words that might dare to escape.

    As he finally shifted his scrutiny away from her, his commanding presence gliding across the room like a shadow, Elaine quickly became aware of an unfamiliar sensation; a sharp cramp had taken residence in her diaphragm. Had she truly been holding her breath that entire time, caught in the web of his unyielding stare? The realization washed over her, forcing her to inhale deeply as the man strode slowly toward his desk. He set down the stack of thin books and loose sheets he had been carrying; the soft thud of the papers against the wood was startling in the stillness.

    "Um, hello," he started in a hard-to-hear mutter. "Welcome to Homeroom Class 7. My name is Allan Marsh, and I''ll be your homeroom teacher throughout your five-year student career. I expect every one of you to be here at 8:30 on the dot every morning. Those who don''t will not be allowed in and will be severely punished for negligence. If there''s one thing I hate, it''s tardiness."

    He cannot be serious, Elaine thought frustratedly. Here he was, the last to trudge into his own classroom, yet he had the audacity to lecture his class on the importance of punctuality. Elaine couldn''t help but raise an eyebrow at his boldness. His patronizing statement hung in the air, carrying a weight that she expected would provoke an outburst¡ªa discharge of shouts or pointed accusations. Instead, the response was far more subdued. A muffled assortment of whispers and nervous murmurs rippled through the classroom as students exchanged furtive glances, their expressions a mix of disbelief and admiration.

    "I can''t believe it," someone said. "He''s actually here."

    "Light and shadows, how many tokens do you reckon it took them to afford him?"

    "His magic''s insane. I gotta see it in action!"

    Excitement? Admiration? The entire class had been at their wit''s end only moments prior, their nerves fraying under the weight of tedious waiting. Yet now, in an instant, they fawned over him as if he were royalty gracing them with his presence. Elaine narrowed her eyes, studying their seemingly lifeless teacher¡ªnow transformed into the focal point of their rapt attention¡ªmore puzzled than ever. Then, like a spark igniting dry kindling, a rush of recognition collided with her. This man, this sorcerer who now stood before them, was someone she''d learned through passing whispers and stories in the newspaper. Before her thoughts could fully coalesce, Elaine felt her jaw drop in astonishment. She was in the presence of the feared and infamous Abyssal Sorcerer of Grayrock.

 Chapter 12 - Class of Misfits

    The Arcanum''s main obligation was to govern and monitor the practice of magic throughout the country. The Military was an indomitable force, no doubt, but not even they could account for every "incident" involving the mystical arts, nor could they comprehend how exactly to approach such fragile anomalies. Most of them were the shoot first, ask questions type. But magic was a delicate, sacred exercise. Tragically, though, not everyone shared this opinion. Some, like the bizarre lab rats in the State Military, sought to weaponize it. Reachers and others in the science communities loved to run their experiments on it, aspiring to usher in a new revolutionary age of magically enhanced technology.

    And then there were rogue sorcerers, criminals or wanted fugitives who somehow managed to procure themselves wands. Needless to say, the Arcanum had their hands full, being entrusted with a monsoon of different magic-related problems. And so their ranks were primarily composed of some of the best Professional Sorcerers they could find. Not every sorcerer took that path, however. Some found honor in serving in the Military as State Sorcerers. Many of them were revered as famous war veterans and heroes. One such sorcerer among them was Allan Marsh, the Abyssal Sorcerer.

    Most ordinary folks didn''t know of him. In fact, up until recently, Elaine was no different. This was mainly due to how elusive and discrete the sorcerer was regarding his work. In the sorcery world, however, he was practically a living legend. Based on her eldest brother''s description¡ªbeing the sorcery-obsessed freak that he was¡ªAllan Marsh was one of the strongest sorcerers in the entire country and had quickly risen from being just a newly recruited State Sorcerer to a lieutenant general. He''d participated in numerous civil conflicts and was responsible for capturing some of the most dangerous rogue sorcerers Incante had the misfortune of bolstering. Elaine wondered how someone like him would wind up as an educator at Glyph Academy. Ellend had mentioned that he had just randomly turned in his letter of resignation one day and then disappeared into the country. But in actuality, he was hired as a professor? No, Elaine didn''t buy it. There had to be more to that story. Plus, the man didn''t really seem to be...professor material.

    "All right, let''s see here," he yawned, staring at the clipboard in his hands. Sleepy eyes, drooping shoulders, a couldn''t-be-bothered attitude. Was he related to Raze, perchance? "I suppose our first order of business is taking attendance," Professor Marsh dryly said. "So here''s how we''re going to do this: we''ll start from the front of the class and make our way to the back. When your name is called...uh...give us an introduction. Tell us a little about yourself. I don''t know; it''s up to you."

    Glad to see he''s excited to be here, Elaine thought.

    "Oh, and try to keep your intros as brief as possible, will you? We''re already running late," he said. "There''s twenty-three of you, and I have a few announcements at the end, yeah?" Nobody in the class responded¡ªstill processing that the Abyssal Sorcerer was indeed their teacher, more than likely¡ªand Professor Marsh gave a shrug. "I''ll take that as a yes. Okay then, who''s up first?"

    Elaine leaned forward in her seat. This presented a prime opportunity to get acquainted with her fellow classmates. At the very least, she''d come away with a list of names to reference in the future. True to her expectations, a significant number of them hailed from Noble Families. Among the crowd, she discerned a couple of fourth and third cule, heirs to thriving businesses or sacred bloodlines, born into luxuries that felt as foreign to her as the Celestial Realm itself. Yet, despite their refined upbringing, sharing the same space with her, you''d be hard-pressed to guess they were born into privilege. Elaine, drawing from her personal experiences, had honed her ability to spot nobility amidst a sea of commoners. Their way of speaking, laced with a cultivated eloquence; the exquisite fabrics of their attire, tailored to perfection; and the way their servants flitted about, attending to needs before they were even voiced, all painted a well and accurate picture of their status.

    Once, during a fleeting moment at a gathering in Page, she''d witnessed a noblewoman, draped in a gown of shimmering emerald silk, throw a tantrum over the hue of her transport¡ªa lavish carriage adorned with carvings and drawn by land dragons. The woman insisted vehemently that the vehicle be painted in a shade closer to midnight blue, her voice rising above the gentle hum of polite conversation. Such behaviors were all too familiar to Elaine; they illustrated the dichotomies of their world, where frivolous complaints danced hand in hand with the weight of lineage.

    Goldbloods were fragile, superficial creatures. But her classmates, they seemed to be a lot more...unhinged in how they came across. Some didn''t speak in the dignified manner she would have otherwise predicted they''d inherit. Some spoke of grand, even nonsensical, aspirations that made Elaine doubt that her ears were functioning correctly. And then there were some like Abigail Bovine, a girl sitting in the front row of the class. When her name had been called, the brown-skinned girl with dark eyes and spiky black hair rose to her feet, announcing without care, "I go by "Abby" these days, sir. And I came to this academy to learn how to fight. How to better use my magic in a duel. I need to get stronger. I''m tryna kill someone." She didn''t bother elaborating, and Allan Marsh himself didn''t appear to be the least bit fazed by the eerie proclamation. He continued down his list of students as if everything the odd girl had just said was, ultimately, unequivocally...normal.

    Elaine''s interest was piqued as Professor Marsh called out the name "Kliff Dresden." Two desks in front of her, a student¡ªhis blonde hair catching the soft sunlight drifting through the windows¡ªexhaled a pronounced sigh. Kliff rose from his chair, straightening his posture with an air of confidence that turned heads. "That would be me, sir," he acknowledged, his voice steady and clear. He scanned the room with his blue eyes quietly. "I''ve always had a fascination with magic, even as a child, when I would spend hours flipping through ancient tomes and watching street performers conjure illusions." His words flowed effortlessly, imbued with a blend of passion and determination. "I worked tirelessly to secure my place at Glyph Academy, which is renowned as the premier institution in the country for anyone aspiring to become a Professional Sorcerer." He paused, a hint of pride flickering across his face. "Now that I¡¯m here, I am committed to becoming the best student I can be¡ªfostering my skills, mastering spells, and deepening my understanding of the mystic arts. And I sincerely hope that we can forge strong bonds as classmates and future sorcerers." He concluded with a warm smile, his earnestness resonating in the room. "That is all."

    Kliff settled into his chair, and moments later, the room erupted in a chorus of hushed murmurs. Elaine understood the cause of the commotion all too well. Even as someone from a humble background, she was well aware of the illustrious Dresden Family. Among the most exclusive circles of nobility, the Dresdens held an esteemed position, their reputation carved from centuries of influence and wealth. The family was not merely known; they were revered, occupying a pedestal that seemed impossibly high, a vantage point few could hope to reach. Their considerable fortune stemmed from their pioneering wand-making enterprise, which spanned thousands of shops and factories, extending from the Capital to the idyllic town of Altho in the far south. It was no exaggeration to say that a vast majority of the wands in the country, accounting for over 80% of production, bore the distinctive mark of the Dresdens. Elaine couldn''t help but think that nearly every classmate around her had likely possessed a wand crafted by this celebrated lineage.

    She turned her attention back to Kliff, who slouched nonchalantly in his chair, his body language suggesting disinterest while his lineage promised him a future of unrivaled opportunity. Someday, he would inherit the sprawling enterprise, a prospect nearly assured from the moment he drew his first breath. It begged the question, why bother studying to be a sorcerer when he more than likely already had everything he could ever ask for? Goldbloods and their mysteries, there was never an end to them. After Kliff gave his introduction, Elaine listened as the other students said their parts as well. It was quite a varied ensemble. A girl from the Capital who was heir to a thriving trades and craft business. A sorcerer of fourth cule hailing from a family of powerful and noteworthy politicians. So entranced was she by their separate backgrounds, Elaine hadn''t noticed her name being called until the Abyssal Sorcerer coughed into a fist. She hopped in her seat, her face glowed crimson embarrassment as the class peered in her direction.

    Giving them a brief yet all too awkward chuckle, she stood up and said in a light tone, "Elaine Harwood, that would be me." It was not her best introduction, but it was the only one she''d the power to muster, given her cumbersome circumstances. "I was born and raised in Page, far into the countryside. I wouldn''t be surprised if none of you have ever heard of it."

    "Page, huh? Say, isn''t that the town close by Gallow Forest?" asked the boy with a harsh-sounding voice. His name was Jack Durge, if memory served, and he was aspiring to join the ranks of the Military after he graduated. Yeah, he''d make a good fit as a State Sorcerer.

    Elaine nodded at him. "That''s the one."

    "Awesome. You know, I heard the Gallow Forest is home to some pretty wicked beasties. Have you ever checked it out for yourself, or are they just baseless rumors?"

    Memories of the past sprang loose in her head, and the image of a screaming Ellend ignited by flames burned bright in her gaze. That night, she''d heard Aeris'' whispers. On that night, she learned how overwhelming the fear of death could be. "Once a year, we''d hear stories of a traveler going missing," Elaine confirmed, desperate to keep her false smile. "My folks never let me go near it either, but there''s never been word of there being any monsters. At least, not to my knowledge."

    Jack had both fists clenched before him, his light brown eyes scorched with excitement. "Man, that sounds like a perfect training ground befitting a sorcerer. I''ve gotta check it out one of these days."

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    "Let''s try to stay on track." Professor Marsh''s voice was as cold as ice, or rather, the blade of a well-polished sword. It effortlessly sliced their conversation in half, butter melting between the metal. "Ms. Harwood, if it''s all the same with you, then I shall move onto¡ª"

    "Actually," Elaine interrupted, raising a hand, "I''m not finished yet, sir. I''ve still got more to say."

    "Oh?" replied Marsh, fostering a glare.

    "Yes, sir," Elaine said. "B...But as long as it''s all right with you, of course." Marsh frowned annoyedly at the ticking clock strung on the wall above the classroom door. The sorcerer shrugged and nodded for Elaine to proceed. Inspiring, Elaine said, "Truth is, all of this is pretty much new to me. I''d never gotten the chance to attend such a famous academy before, and so to be scouted as a student was quite the honor. I''m sure every one of you is a talented magic user, just as I''m also sure that countless other mages should be here in my place. But I can only match your pace, and so I will try my very best to do so. Until the curtains close on our time together, I hope we can all study well as classmates and sorcerers."

    Elaine bowed her head respectfully at the class before sinking back into her seat, the chair creaking beneath her. No sooner had she settled than a wave of humiliation crashed over her like icy water. She hadn¡¯t anticipated her introduction to come off as so stiff and rehearsed. Despite everything she had shared, she realized she hadn¡¯t touched on the reasons for enrolling in the academy or her aspirations for the future. Overwhelmed, she buried her face in her arms on the desk, feeling the familiar sting of embarrassment. Stealing a furtive glance to her left, Elaine saw the large kid with curly dark hair slouched in his own seat beside her. His eyes bore into her with a blank, almost lifeless gaze that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. Just as she opened her mouth to say something¡ªanything¡ªto bridge the awkward silence, she was taken aback when he unexpectedly responded with an approving nod. To her surprise, the corners of his mouth began to lift into a faint smile, a small gesture that felt like a lifeline amid her humiliation.

    His name was Mason. When he had introduced himself, he spoke in a powerful, low-toned voice. He didn''t delve much into his personal life or seem interested in drawing out a conversation. Mason merely confirmed his name as it was called, provided a brief insight into his hometown, and then sat back down. At first, Elaine was somewhat put off by the quiet giant. But that smile, it painted a different picture. There was kindness, sincerity to it. If only Elaine could deduce a way to strum up a conversation with him in a manner that was neither incredibly forced nor incredibly artificial.

    As the students in the final rows of the class began spouting out their introductions¡ªFearne presented hers with an accidental eep! accompanied by a whimper¡ªElaine came to the startling conclusion that the vast majority of her classmates were...odd. Yes, that was the best way she could describe them. They were goldbloods. They were rich. They had an aptitude for magic. But they were odd. Elaine initially thought she''d be the outsider, the deviant, the stranger. She was a lowborn; she must never forget that she was a lowborn. Nevertheless, the more she heard her classmates speak, the more she learned of their yearnings, their passions, so did she realize just how unorthodox they all were. Nobles were known for being flamboyant and eccentric, and sure, that might have applied to a few of the students present with her.

    But most behaved in a manner not dissimilar to the kids she had grown up with in the dust-laden streets of Page. There was a scrappiness to them, a feistiness akin to an agitated bushgoblin. This wasn''t your conventional class of nobles¡ªthough Elaine had little idea of what that might entail¡ªbut a different breed entirely, a mix of resilience and audacity she found both intriguing and bewildering. Pseudo-nobles, if such a term even made a lick of sense in this context. They weren''t like the polished students she had encountered around the sprawling campus or at the marketplace. No, these individuals exuded a raw Essence, one not confined to the rigid structures of a fireplace but instead soaring untamed down the winding path of a hybrid forest ablaze with colors and life. They had an intensity that flared like the flames, wild and unpredictable. Elaine wasn''t entirely positive if this exhilarating unpredictability was reassuring or not.

    "Well, that seems to be everyone," Professor Marsh sighed, his voice heavy as he swept a bored gaze over the attendance sheet in his hands. "Now then, it¡¯d be beneficial for you all to understand how we operate here at Glyph Academy. From what I can gather, based on your introductions, this room isn¡¯t short of ambition. That¡¯s good, but ambition alone can only carry you so far. The professors at this academy, myself included, take immense pride in molding some of the most powerful sorcerers that Incante has ever witnessed. However," he continued, his tone shifting to one of gravity, "if we deem you unfit or unworthy of walking these halls where legends were forged, well, suffice to say you likely won''t find your time here particularly enjoyable." An uncomfortable chill prickled Elaine''s skin, and she flinched, sensing a cold thorn stabbing at her nape. Was her imagination playing tricks, or was the Abyssal Sorcerer directing a heated glare specifically at her? An uneasy sensation rolled over her, akin to the sickly feeling she experienced after overeating too quickly. "It might only be your first week, but I advise you to make a remarkable first impression on all of your professors. Demonstrate your determination¡ªshow us that you belong in our classes, that you¡¯re earnest in your desire to learn, and that your acceptance here was not a mistake."

    Another shiver coursed through Elaine as the professor''s intense gaze seemed to linger on her for a moment longer before he shifted his focus. What was that about...?

    "This academy values honor more than anything else," he stated, his eyes narrowing slightly as if judging the very essence of their characters. "Apply this principle to every aspect of your life, and perhaps you just might survive." The weight of his words settled over the room, an echo of promise and warning, as the students exchanged anxious glances, each feeling the gravity of the path ahead.

    "Survive?" uttered Custas, chuckling nervously to himself. "You''re being hyperbolic, aren''t you, sir?"

    Professor Marsh didn''t respond to the question. "Your regular classes will begin in the next five minutes or so. Good luck," he said as he strode to the door.

    "Wait, sir!" called Adeline, the auburn-haired girl sitting closer to the front of the class. She raised a hand above her head, and her voice attuned to a purposeful note. "You''ve gotten to know a little about all of us, haven''t you?" she asked him. "Don''t you think it''s also appropriate that you tell us a bit about yourself as well?"

    Marsh paused a breath from the door, glancing back at her over his shoulder. "Me?"

    "You are our homeroom teacher," Adeline said. "Not to mention you''re also a famous Professional Sorcerer. Naturally, as your students, we''d at least be interested in what you would have to say."

    "Yeah, I agree!" Rayla exclaimed, clapping her hands. She was a fair-skinned girl with a round face framed by a cascade of shortly-trimmed reddish-blonde hair that barely brushed her shoulders. However, what captivated Elaine most was the girl''s striking pair of ruby-tinted eyes. She must be a foreigner, a thought that crossed Elaine''s mind with a twinge of curiosity. Perhaps she hailed from Ekenthall, a place Elaine had read about where red-colored eyes were a common and intriguing trait. "I gotta know, teach, are the stories about you true!" she called at him, her face flowering with elated wonder. "That you''re one of the best sorcerers around!"

    "Eh, it''s not like it''d kill you or anything," Jack added, folding his arms.

    "So, you want to know about me? Is that it?" Professor Marsh said, arcing his neck. He glanced at the bird on his shoulder, and when it made a click with its beak, the sorcerer expelled a sigh. "Let''s see, I guess you could say I''m practical. From what I''ve gathered thus far, my first impression of this class is that...well, how do I put this? You''re a bunch of imbeciles."

    At least he''s being honest, Elaine thought.

    "Still, I''d be lying if I were to say I didn''t sense a great deal of potential from you. But passions and desires hardly matter if you don''t possess the talent to make them real," he muttered, gripping the handle and creaking open the door. "Personally, I couldn''t care less about what your dreams are. They interest me not. Prove to me that you have the willpower to commit to this journey. Resolve is what I value most in a student, boys and girls. But if you can''t keep up with the rest of the herd, I won''t hesitate to cut you loose myself." The Abyssal Sorcerer shut the door behind him with a slam, and the class was again banished into empty, wordless space. Was that meant to be inspirational? Judging from her classmates'' frowns and uneasy sideglances, it seemed to generate the opposite effect.

    "Ha! What a nifty guy," grinned Custas.

    "More like creepy," Rayla said, giddily hugging herself. "But it should be interesting to have someone like him as our homeroom teacher, don''t you think?"

    "He''s testing us," Adeline said, loud enough for all of them to hear. "Testing to see if we''re worthy of being his students. That just now wasn''t a greeting, nor was it a warning. More than anything, it was a threat. If we don''t meet his expectations, I have no doubt he''ll make good on his word."

    "Then he really was telling the truth?" asked Fearne. She sounded nervous, and Elaine couldn''t blame her. She herself was struggling to soothe the trembling in her chest.

    "Yes," Adeline confirmed. "Should we fail to impress him, then I dare say none of us will last very long at this academy."

    Elaine gulped. So this is what Hound was talking about, she thought, a wobbly smile spreading on her face. Glyph Academy was a battleground, a war for survival. Forget purchasing a wand holster or struggling to find her homeroom on time. Her real troubles, so it seemed, had only just begun.

 Chapter 13 - Starting Line

    "You''d do well to remember this, class," said Professor Gray as he paced in front of the titanic chalkboard on the wall. As he spoke, a floating chalk stick had been enchanted to inscribe his every word on the massive, green-colored slate. "Our Era of Magic is but the culmination of centuries and centuries of misunderstandings and needless war. Take the aforementioned Aetherium, for instance. Otherwise known as the Great Sorcerer Uprising. Back then, the world was a lot more, let''s say, cut-throat than the civilized society that we openly indulge in today. Mages, victimized as freaks or used as biological weapons, concluded that the social order needed to change. "Why should we, creatures that are superior to that of a dullard, be forced to work as their packing mules, their obedient mutts?". One simple question and a war lasting for seven long years washed over the entire country."

    Elaine frantically jotted down the professor''s lecture notes in her textbook. She moved so quickly, however, that it got to the point where a pestering cramp stung her hand, pinched at her fingers. But she ignored it, and she kept writing. She discounted the pain, she continued to¡ª

    The pen flung uncontrollably out of her hand, landing somewhere underneath the desk beneath her. Elaine muttered an incomprehensible sentence or two and swiftly rummaged through her satchel for a replacement.

    "Perhaps this can help?" said Custas, sitting next to her spiraling a blue pen in his fingers. A smirk made his cheeks dimple.

    "Thanks. You''re a lifesaver," she whispered, accepting his pen.

    "Not a problem," Custas grinned. "But you know, Elaine, don''t you think you''re overdoing it?"

    "Hmm? Overdoing what?"

    "Need you ask? I mean, you did just fling away a perfectly good pen. Let''s be hopeful you don''t accidentally take someone''s eye out next time. And this is not to sound hurtful, but your penmanship could use some finetuning."

    For the first time since she started her class, Elaine took a moment to truly examine her work. It was...well, she realized with a twinge of disappointment, far from her best effort. What had begun as neatly written lines of legible text had, within the span of a single page, devolved into a chaotic jumble of scrambled letters and erratic scratches. Words that once flowed smoothly from her pen now seemed to twist and tangle, making it nearly impossible for her to decipher what she had intended to convey. Patches of ink smudged the paper, and her thoughts, which had sparkled with clarity earlier, now felt muddled and lost amid the confusion of her own making. "Okay, I might need to slow down a little..."

    Custas raised a brow at her. "Might?"

    "I''m sorry. I can''t help it."

    "Is this another of your quirks, perchance? Like when you nearly tore my tongue out of my mouth at the marketplace?"

    "No, it isn''t like that. And you promised you wouldn''t bring that up again!" Elaine pouted, jabbing him in his side.

    Custas shrugged. "Eh, just taking a shot in the dark. So what is bothering you?"

    "I can''t stop thinking about what Professor Marsh said," Elaine admitted, sighing. "You know, about the whole "survival" thing?"

    "Oh, that''s what''s got you so bent out of shape? Elaine, I''m disappointed. Surely you''re not letting that nutjob''s words get to you."

    Elaine frowned at her desk. "And what if I am?"

    She couldn¡¯t deny it; the Abyssal Sorcerer had shattered her confidence and rattled her core. What if she really did fail to live up to his lofty expectations? The thought gnawed at her relentlessly. How long would it be before the terrifying sorcerer, cloaked in his dark robes and wielding arcane power, materialized in one of her classes, coldly informing her that she was being placed under academic probation¡ªor, even worse, expelled? The very idea was enough to make her stay hyper-focused on each and every lesson since she had departed from homeroom.

    Fortunately, it helped that Magihistory was a subject she had already dived into with enthusiasm. She had spent countless afternoons at the local library, where the scent of aged parchment and binding glue filled the air, storming through the content of any book she could get her little hands on. From the rise of ancient spellcasters to the fall of mystical empires, she had devoured every detail, hoping to equip herself with the knowledge that might one day ward off the dark shadows of doubt. When she wasn¡¯t immersed in her studies, she was assisting at her family¡¯s shop, running errands and interacting with customers. And in those quieter moments, she practiced magic in secret with Ellend, finding solace in the delicate art of Spellcasting. With each flick of her wrist and whispered incantation, she clung to the hope that she was more than just a student; she was a budding sorcerer ready to carve her own path in a world fraught with uncertainty.

    Truthfully, magihistory had always captivated her. It wasn''t merely the study of historical events nor just the exploration of magical phenomena; it was a rich tapestry woven from both realms, a captivating hybrid that combined the past and the arcane. She often pondered how her fascination with this subject was intertwined with the tales of lands far beyond the narrow confines and fading memories of Page, as well as the echoes of times long forgotten that danced tantalizingly on the edges of awareness. This blend of history and magic was downright enchanting.

    In today''s lecture, she found that the material didn¡¯t reveal anything she hadn¡¯t already encountered in her previous studies. However, their professor, with a keen eye for detail, meticulously dissected events and themes that the outdated history books back in Page had only glossed over. His insights peeled back layers of complexity, shedding light on nuances that were often overlooked. Although she was already familiar with much of the content, she knew better than to dismiss any detail, understanding that every piece held the potential to contribute to her broader understanding. She had to excel in her courses and demonstrate her capabilities to the esteemed professors across the campus; anything less was unacceptable. The lecture theater itself, compact yet efficiently designed, wasn''t the largest she had seen but still managed to accommodate the curiosity of over fifty eager students at once. With its carefully sloped flooring, each row of semi-circular desks descended gently, ensuring that every seat provided an unobstructed view of the professor standing at the bottom-most floor, immersed in passionate discussion.

    "It took the combined efforts of the Military and the Arcanum to bring an end to the Magis Order''s dominance finally," Professor Gray continued, pushing a pair of glasses further up his nose. "It was none other than our very own Founder who delivered the finishing blow herself, besting the Order''s leader in a one-on-one duel. Though they''ve all but withered out by now, there have been reports of the dreaded Followers of Dreyfus prowling in the shadows as we speak. Be sure to write this down; it''s essential for future material we will cover in this course."

    "Yes, sir!" Elaine called, along with a few others. Motorizing fingers jotted the notes from one side of the page to the other.

    Despite being a Magihistory professor, Warren Gray¡ªa well-regarded Professional Sorcerer chosen directly by the Headmaster himself¡ªappeared surprisingly youthful. His tan skin, kissed by the sun, complemented his tousled brown hair that seemed perpetually windblown. His dark eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and his chiseled features added a striking quality to his magnetic presence. Professor Gray''s friendly demeanor and palpable passion for the tales of magic and history captivated his students, making it easy for Elaine to lose herself in his lectures. The classroom atmosphere buzzed with energy as he animatedly recounted the exploits of legendary sorcerers, drawing thought-provoking parallels between the past and the present. Other students, especially the girls, sat enraptured by his every word. Their wide, sparkling eyes, practically brimming with heart-shaped glimmers, suggested that it was not solely his engaging lessons that held their attention.

    "What if you''re just blowing this whole thing out of proportion?" Custas asked. "Adeline might be onto something, and our creepy homeroom teacher could be planning on getting rid of one or two of us. Yup, I won''t deny that that''s plausible."

    "Then why aren''t you more concerned?" Elaine grumbled, motioning to his textbook, void of discernible notes. All he''d done was draw a collection of messy doodles around the border of each page, and the date at the top was incorrect. Did he even know which class they were in?

    "Because I don''t plan on burning myself out at the starting line," he yawned, hands behind his head. "I go at my own pace, tackling each challenge with a fresh perspective and a renewed vigor. What can I say? That''s simply how I operate."

    "And it works for you?"

    "Has so far. It kept me sane for this long anyway," Custas snickered. "But not everyone''s the same, I get that. For you, working yourself to death might just be how you operate. No shame in that."

    Elaine loured. "I''m not working myself to death?"

    "It''s our first lesson, and yet you''re already stressing yourself out. You don''t honestly think any of us are gonna get kicked out on the first day, do you?" Elaine looked at him in puzzled disbelief. Was he a mind-reader? "Worrying over something that hasn''t happened yet isn''t a healthy mindset. Seriously, Elaine, you need to relax."

    "Ah, Master Custas. Thank you for volunteering," Professor Gray called up to them.

    Custas nearly fell out of his chair. Cracking a nervous smirk, he said, "Come again?"

    "I was just asking which sorcerer was responsible for leading the charge in the Borgan Conflict. I only assume you have the answer. Why else would you be talking during my lesson?"

    "Oh...err...the Borgan Conflict?" Custas stammered. "I know that one...it was...uh..."

    Elaine chuckled beside him and shot up her hand. "It was Viktor Calligan, professor. His codename in the Military was the Brightstar Sorcerer because of how he specialized in Star Magic spells. He devastated the front lines of the rogue sorcerer infantry, providing an opportunity for the Arcanum to seize control of the Borgan Palace. This conflict is a rare instance where the Military and the Arcanum were dispatched on a single mission. One of the first, actually."

    Professor Gray seemed pleased with that answer. "Very well articulated, Lady Elaine," he said, paying her a charming smile. "And Master Custas, I implore you not to speak lest you''ve something to contribute to the class."

    "Yes, sir!" Custas whimpered. "Thanks for the save, my fair maiden."

    "Don''t mention it," Elaine said happily. "And thank you for the advice. You''re right; dwelling on what might go wrong won''t benefit me in any way. I want to be a Professional Sorcerer, yes, but I also want to enjoy my experience at this academy as a student."

    "Ha! That''s more I like it," Custas grinned. "By the way, if you could share your notes with me after class, I''d greatly appreciate it."

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Elaine laughed. "I''ve got you covered, Custas. Just try and keep your loose lips closed, all right?"

    "Sure, sure," he said. "But no promises..."

    *

    * *

    The small creature perched on her shoulder was enveloped in a layer of velvety, white feathers that shimmered softly, casting a gentle glow that pulsed rhythmically, as if in time with a heartbeat. Golden patterns adorned its chest, flowing and twisting like a shimmering river, branching into spirals that seemed to dance with every movement. Atop its head, a delicate crown of silvery feathers arched gracefully, catching the light in a way that made it appear almost ethereal. With a sudden shuffle, the creature lifted one wing and used its beak to scratch at an itch beneath its plumage, causing its tail feathers to flick and sway playfully. Living in the countryside, Elaine had encountered her fair share of bizarre lifeforms, especially during the warm summer months. Packs of ogrehounds would often stalk through her yard, and occasionally, she would spot a two-headed cobra slithering through the underbrush, its sinuous body resembling a large, reptilian worm.

    Once, on a clear day, she had even witnessed a pride of majestic griffins soaring through the azure sky, their powerful wings granting them an almost poetic grace as they flew in expertly organized arrow-shaped formations. But spirits¡ªthose were something entirely different. They hailed from a separate Realm of Existence, one that had likely witnessed the dawn of time itself, long before humanity and civilization were even mere concepts. To say Elaine was excited to learn about these celestial beings would be a blatant understatement. She watched intently as the creature cooed softly, its melodious sounds akin to any ordinary bird, wobbling from one shoulder to the other.

    "Some say that a Summoner has the power to command spirits; that we are masters and they are our servants. Even as a child, I was never a fan of this misconception. The dynamic we Summoners share with spirits is far more complex than that," their professor said, stroking the bird spirit on its head. "It''s a relationship, one built on mutual trust and respect. In this course, I will teach you what it means to be a respectable Summoner."

    Her name was Sidney Altair. She was a dazzling young woman in her late twenties with long, silverish-blonde hair cascading from her diamond-shaped head, shimmering with hints of gold and perfectly framing her delicate features. Her azure eyes sparkled like gemstones, radiating intensity and intelligence, while her fair skin was smooth and milky, seemingly untouched by time. The woman was dressed in a flowing blue and white chiffon dress that swayed gracefully around her frame with each movement, the fabric beautifully accentuating her figure. On her left wrist were exquisite bracelets embedded with multi-colored diamonds that caught the eyes of those around her, twinkling like stars against her skin; each one seemed to tell a story of opulence and fine craftsmanship. Her high heels clicked rhythmically against the floor as she walked, echoing her confidence and poise with every step. Elaine noticed the wand holster nestled securely against her waist. As she spun gracefully to address her students gathered on the opposite side of the room, Elaine''s gaze was drawn to a striking contrast: a simple rope bracelet wrapped around Sidney''s right wrist. Its earthy tones and unpretentious design felt utterly at odds with her lavish attire.

    The classroom was reasonably spacious, yet it stood out distinctly due to its unique design. Semi-circular desks, meticulously crafted from polished oak, were fixed into three distinctive rings¡ªeach one larger than the last. Narrow pathways gapped between the rings, and at the heart of this unconventional layout, the professor herself stood behind a sturdy pulpit, positioned within the confines of the first and smallest ring, which was adorned with an engraving of archaic symbols. Elaine occupied a seat in the middle ring, perfectly placed to ensure a clear line of sight to the pulpit. As Professor Altair spoke, Elaine found herself transfixed, her gaze drawn to the extraordinary avian-like being that spread its magnificent wings wide, flapping them with palpable excitement.

    "A common misconception is that the Bond us Summoners form with spirits is the only way we can control them, the only way to beckon them into this reality. However, that isn''t entirely accurate," Professor Altair said. "Spirits are alien to us; nevertheless, they are sentient. They''re capable of speech, can create art and songs, and have organized a functional, hierarchical society on their side of the Rift. They can also be bargained with. Some are willing to form "temporary" Bonds with humans, so long as they believe it is beneficial to do so. I promised to pay the spirits waiting on the other side with trinkets from my office. Human items are valuable in the Celestial Realm, you see. They''ve agreed to be Summoned by you and have each bound themselves to the spirit circles I will now ask you to create."

    Professor Altair snapped her fingers. Flickering into existence above her was a hovering, rectangular image that glitched with a sort of static electricity. It displayed an image of a circle composed of two, no, three rings. In between each was a series of separate sygils, forming some kind of pattern. "Spirit circles act as gateways. We cannot bring a spirit into the Physical Realm without first having it pass through a spirit circle. Now recreate this circle accurately, charge it with your Essence, and then recite the chant I taught you earlier. You''ll be Summoning a lesser spirit so it won''t require that much magical energy to activate the circle. Accuracy is key, however. Draw the circle exactly as it appears."

    Elaine stared at the tray of fresh soil resting on the desk before her. She stuck a finger into it and started to trace a line that eventually curved into a circle. She did this twice over until the two rimmed symbol was now staring back at her from the soil. Next was the complicated part: she''d have to replicate the sygils. From what she could tell, sygils differentiated themselves from magic runes in that they were uniquely tailored for spirit Summoning and control. They were essentially useless when it came to casting spells or other Art Forms of magic. Elaine didn''t think of herself as the neatest artist, but she tried her best in spite of that.

    Carefully, she dipped the tip of her finger into the dark, rich soil of the tray, feeling the cool, damp earth between her fingertips. With deliberate precision, she began to trace the intricate sygils that flickered on the enchanted screen hovering just above her workspace. The first rune, a complex pattern formed by a series of angular triangles interwoven with sharp zigzag shapes, was arranged in a radially symmetrical configuration that pulsed with a faint azure glow. In contrast, the second rune displayed sygils reminiscent of discs or unblinking eyes, their markings perfectly bilateral.

    Elaine took a deep breath, her heart racing slightly with anticipation. With the designs etched into the soil, she was nearly ready to proceed. All that remained was to follow her professor''s instructions: she had to charge the circle with her own magical energy¡ªher Essence. This vital step was essential; without it, her Summoning would lack the potency needed to bring forth the entity she sought. She held her hand above the tracings in the dirt, feeling the warmth radiating from her palm as she closed her eyes, blocking out the distractions of the classroom around her. Her mind shifted inward, focusing intently on the flow of Essence coursing through her veins, feeling it ebb and flow like a current. It was a familiar sensation, akin to the way she channeled energy through her wand when casting spells.

    Suddenly, an electric flash surged against her cheek, jolting her senses. She cracked open her eyes just a fraction, glancing around the room. Her fellow students were fully engaged in their own Summoning processes, each one enveloped in a shimmering cocoon of magical energy. Some appeared deeply focused, their brows furrowed in concentration, while others wore expressions of sheer exhilaration as they attempted to harness their Essence, preparing to breach the veil between worlds. She saw Fearne sitting across from her at the table. Both the girl''s hands were held out in front of her, and she recited loudly, "Dan Minmi Virtuemen Tam Et Ba Ether! Bufo!"

    In response to her calls, a slobbery mass emerged from the confines of the spirit circle. The entity, no larger than a small dog or perhaps a young goat, was crafted from a liquidy, iridescent blue substance, and its skin was adorned with a vibrant array of purple spots that seemed to pulse gently, giving the impression of life beneath the surface. Each of its webbed feet, equipped with translucent membranes, clung tenaciously to the wooden table, leaving faint impressions that glistened with an otherworldly sheen. A small horn, spiraled and tipped with a curve, protruded from the center of its round snout, just above two bulging, yellow-colored eyes. The creature''s well-defined and muscular hind legs, thick with sinew and power, suggested it was built for exceptional mobility, ready to leap or dart with agility. Yet, Elaine found herself puzzled by the pair of diminutive, feathery wings that extended awkwardly from its back. They appeared too tiny and fragile to lift its rotund form off the ground, particularly given the plumpness of its belly that swayed slightly with each movement. But then again, what did she truly understand about the physiology of spirits? These enigmatic beings adhered to laws of nature that defied her knowledge, navigating through dimensions and realities with a logic that was as perplexing as it was fascinating, playing by their own strange, hard-to-grasp rules.

    "I did it!" Fearne exclaimed. The spirit croaked at her, and it was trying to replicate her excitement with a slimy smile.

    "Argh, this is impossible," groaned the person sitting next to Elaine. She remembered his name to be Edgar Harez, a fair-skinned boy with dark hair who sat in the row behind her in homeroom. His different-colored eyes¡ªone green, the other blue¡ªand his partially pointed ears belonged to Rymevar, the smaller country westward of their own. Edgar slumped in his seat disappointedly. "Maybe I''m just not cut out to be a Summoner, huh? Say, Harwood, what kinda sygils are those? Did the professor change her instructions while I wasn''t paying attention or something?"

    "My sygils?" Elaine asked. She glanced at the spirit circle in the tray, and, low and behold, the sigils were indeed different. She didn''t even recognize it¡ªstreaking shapes resembling blades, or were they meant to be fangs? Had she drawn these?

    A few more of her classmates seemed to be having an effortless time with the Summoning exercise than she was. Bufo spirits, small and lackadaisical, were popping up all around the classroom. One clumsily flapped its feathery wings in front of Adeline, its dull colors speckled with hints of yellow, while a green variant, with bulging eyes and a slobbering tongue, hovered next to Jack, who was grinning widely at the amusing sight. But when a particularly rotund Bufo spirit materialized before Rayla, its bulbous body wobbling slightly, the astonished girl stumbled out of her seat, her eyes wide with disbelief, and landed awkwardly on the floor with a soft thud. Her unexpected fall drew a few nearby chuckles, her face blushing as she scrambled back to her feet.

    "Mr. Cloude!" she heard Professor Altair say strictly. The professor was standing, arms crossed, in front of Custas'' desk. Her glare, on the other hand, challenged the blank stare she received from the giant reptile craning its long neck above her. A yellow-colored diamond was lodged in its flattened head. "That isn''t a Bufo spirit," she said. "Care to explain yourself?"

    Custas snickered and held a hand at the white-scaled creature. "I forgot to mention, Professor Altair, I''m already Bonded with a spirit as you can see. Since we were practicing Summoning, I thought it''d be a perfect chance to demonstrate what I can do. So, what do you think?"

    Professor Altair''s frustration eventually subsided, and she tapped the tip of a pen against her ruby lips. "It''s impressive, I''ll give you that."

    "Hey, Custas. What gives?" shouted Jack, pointing a finger at him. "You never mentioned anything about being a Summoner."

    "Yeah, no fair!" Rayla exclaimed frustratedly.

    "Well," he replied smugly, "you guys never asked. This here is Serpens the Elusive. We''ve been good pals for as long as I can remember. Go ahead, tell ''em, buddy." The serpentine spirit flicked its forked tongue at Custas, and then proceeded to wrap its slender yet flexible body around him, coiling him in a tight embrace. Despite his groans¡ªhis face turned purple, and tears bubbled in his eyes¡ªSerpens plopped its chin atop Custas'' head, flicking its tongue again. "As you can...see..." Custas churned, "...he''s a bit of...a hugger..."

    "Yes, you''ve made your point," Professor Altair sighed, pinching her forehead. "As for the rest of you, do make certain to follow my instructions closely. Experienced Summoner or not, accidents can always happen."

    Elaine kept her hand extended over the dirt tray, holding it steady until a prickling sensation spread through her fingers. Before she knew it, the thunderous chimes of the tower bells reverberated through the classroom, shaking the wooden desks. The deep, resonant notes echoed in her chest, signaling the end of class. Elaine blinked, momentarily startled by the abruptness. No progress today, huh?

    "So what other spirits can you summon, Custas?" she heard Fearne inquire as she and the Summoner walked past her desk.

    "Eh, only a few," Custas answered, shrugging his shoulders. "You''d be surprised how hard it is to form a Spirit Bond with them. They can be incredibly stubborn at times."

    Sighing, Elaine gathered her belongings into her satchel, and followed behind them. They say it required a certain level of aptitude to beckon spirits. Not just any sorcerer could be a Summoner, after all. Perhaps she''d have better luck next class.

    "Wait! Ms. Harwood!" Elaine paused, whirling around at Professor Altair who was idling by her desk. "It isn''t wise to leave a spirit circle active. A stray spirit could wander into the Physical Realm if you''re not careful. Surges, these aren''t even the correct sygils!"

    As Elaine walked over to the partially miffed professor, her eyes stretched open in surprise. The spirit circle, it was glowing.

    Professor Altair looked at her sternly. "Be more careful in the future, yes?"

    "A...Absolutely, ma''am." Right then, Elaine didn''t care much that she''d been reprimanded. The strict chastisement failed to make even the slightest dent in her ecstatic grin.

 Chapter 14 - Knack for Potions

    Professor Lurgs raised the gramroot along with a delicate cluster of ovelpetals, their colors shifting from deep violet to soft lavender. She lifted them high above her head, ensuring the entire class had a clear view of the remarkable ingredients. Without warning, the woman plunged them into the bubbling cauldron sitting before her. The moment they hit the surface, a violent hiss erupted, sending steamy water splattering over the cauldron¡¯s lip, and it filled the air with an earthy, aromatic fragrance that tickled the nose.

    The mixture inside the enormous bowl simmered with vigor, the vibrant hues swirling together like a tempest trapped in glass. The heat radiating from the pot enveloped the classroom, draping it in a foggy veil that blurred the edges of desks. Elaine, as well as the rest of her classmates, leaned in closer, eyes wide with anticipation. Yet, Professor Lurgs remained unfazed, her expression as calm and focused as ever, even as the hot liquid splashed upward, trickling down to her shoulders and sprinkling onto her bare skin.

    "Potion-making, my dears," the professor said, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm, "is a fine art that requires both skill and intuition. It all began in the Early Centuries when humanity was first struck with the revelation of how to brew elixirs using the exquisite assets that Aeris has provided. This monumental discovery kickstarted a new age for mankind, one where the boundaries of healing and transformation were expanded beyond imagination. Each potion and elixir possesses unique properties, capable of healing wounds, purifying tainted waters, or even bestowing enhanced abilities upon the drinker. However, as with magic, there exists a darker and more sinister side to the art of potion-making. In the shadowy corners of society, rogue sorcerers and unscrupulous vendors in the Black Market concoct potions with malicious intent¡ªdrugs designed to harm, to corrupt, and even to take life. Yet, despite these perversions, it is crucial to remember that true potion-making is a sacred craft that should never be used for malevolent purposes. Potions are gifts, woven from the very essence of nature itself, unique in their ability to bridge the gap between the mundane and the magical. They are meant to elevate the human experience, regardless of whether one is a skilled sorcerer wielding immense power or a humble dullard seeking simple remedies. In essence, potion making is an art form that invites anyone¡ªman or beast, wise or simple¡ªto explore and celebrate the marvelous possibilities within our world''s seemingly ordinary elements."

    Elaine smiled quietly to herself. There was something endearing about the way she often adjusted her round spectacles, as if each time she did so, she was seeing the world with fresh curiosity. Elaine imagined that her mother and the professor would form a delightful bond, effortlessly engaging in spirited conversations that could stretch for hours about the marvelous intricacies and secret techniques of potion-making.

    From the moment Elaine was old enough to grasp a spoon, her education in the world of potions had begun in earnest within the cozy confines of her family¡¯s shop. The aromatic blend of herbs and spices, combined with the comforting clatter of glass vials and cauldrons, created an atmosphere that felt like home to her. Her parents had nurtured her passion for potion-making, hoping that one day she would embrace their family legacy and take over the business that had been passed down through generations.

    However, despite her deep-rooted connection to the art of potion-making, Elaine found herself less than thrilled about attending this particular class. Perhaps it was the strong resemblance to her family''s shop that made her feel as though she had already absorbed all the knowledge there was to gain. The thought lingered in her mind: what new revelations could a classroom possibly offer that she hadn¡¯t already learned while carefully assisting her parents behind the counter, mixing ingredients, and perfecting recipes?

    Well, apparently, there was a great deal she hadn''t learned. For instance, Professor Lurgs had firmly taught them that it was unwise to mix ingredients sourced from different countries, especially those hailing from separate continents. Unless these ingredients underwent comprehensive testing and rigorous monitoring, the resultant potion could prove to be far more catastrophic than originally intended. She also unearthed a surprising practice among some potion-makers, particularly those affiliated with the larger potioncraft companies situated in the bustling, high-end cities, where they were utilizing specific spells to enhance their products.

    She had often pondered why her family had never considered investing in magic to elevate the potency of the potions they sold. According to Professor Lurgs, there existed a strict division between magic and potion-making¡ªtwo domains that, while related, should never intermingle. It was undeniably true that potions could induce extraordinary effects and enchantments upon those who ingested them¡ªwith some potion ingredients naturally possessing magical properties of their own. However, a true potion-maker, one worth their salt, would never entertain the notion of casting spells over their brews. The reasons were manifold: the unpredictable nature of magic, the countless variables involved, and the endless possibilities that could arise from mixing the two elements simply rendered such practices too risky and uncertain for their discerning craft.

    "Don''t believe everything you hear from the tightwigs in the Capital or the goblins overseeing their enterprises," Professor Lurgs huffed, wagging a wooden spoon at them. "They use spells to craft their potions not to improve their quality but to cut back on costs, manpower, and time. That''s all it is. This might be a sorcerer training institution but if I ever catch any of you waving your wand in my class, I''ll automatically fail you. Understand, dearies?"

    Even when she was clearly troubled, Professor Lurgs couldn''t fully embrace a scowl. Instead, she settled for an unpleasant frown. It didn¡¯t quite make her appear intimidating, though; here she was, threatening to fail her students, yet her tone carried a soft, almost soothing cadence, reminiscent of a well-meaning grandmother lightly admonishing her grandchildren for a misstep. Professor Lurgs had gracefully crossed well past the halfway point of her life, but a captivating beauty intertwined with the wisdom of her years radiated through the age lines on her face.

    Her tan skin glowed with warmth, and her dark brown hair, streaked with elegant gray, was neatly tied into a bun atop her head. Curly strands framed her round cheeks, softening her features, while her glasses perched delicately on her nose, magnifying her striking green eyes that squinted slightly as if caught between concern and curiosity. She wore a crisp, white cotton long-sleeved shirt, comfortably tailored yet professional, paired with trousers that flowed seamlessly into practical shoes meant for long hours on her feet. Draped over her attire was a well-worn apron that fell to her knees, a patchwork of deep pockets and pouches, each one bursting with an array of eclectic items. From a vial of shimmering, multi-colored liquid to intricate, bizarre apparatuses whose names Elaine couldn¡¯t even begin to guess, the apron seemed like a treasure trove of Professor Lurgs'' countless experiments and preparations.

    Due to the high concentration of colorful fumes emanating from the various potions being concocted, all of the tall, diamond-shaped windows in the classroom were flung wide open to allow for fresh air circulation. While potion smoke wasn''t toxic to humans, prolonged exposure could lead to mild dizziness or a sore throat, so ventilation was a necessary precaution. The classroom itself was modest in size, especially when compared to some of the larger lecture halls she had encountered during her time at the academy. There were three rows of sturdy wooden tables, each capable of accommodating up to four students at a time. Elaine found herself seated between Fearne, whose ponytail bounced as she whispered excitedly about the day¡¯s potion, and a quiet student named Simon, who was intently focused on his work.

    Before Elaine lay an elaborate display of vials artfully arranged on multi-shelved racks. Meanwhile, surrounding the classroom was an assortment of clear glass containers filled with floral and earthy ingredients organized on tall shelves fixed against the stone wall¡ªElaine could see dried lavender, crushed sage, and bits of root from where they were kept inside the containers, all contributing to the aromatic atmosphere. A mortar and pestle carved from a coarse granite sat within reach while, to her left, a petite cauldron sat poised for use. Additionally, embedded into the surface of her table was an unusually rectangular heater that seemed more advanced than the traditional candle or flame setups she had seen before. While it couldn''t exactly be classified as arcanetech, it intrigued her with its functionality. Curiously, Elaine leaned forward and peered beneath the edge of the table, discovering a small control panel outfitted with a set of dials and switches. She surmised that these controls likely regulated the temperature of the heater, allowing her to adjust the warmth precisely according to the potion¡¯s brewing requirements.

    At the front of the class, Professor Lurgs peered into the enormous cauldron, the mixture''s smoke partially fogging her glasses. "Now then, students," she said, "you and your partner will use the ingredients I have provided to recreate the Dulcin Elixir. Follow the instructions on the board carefully. A single mistake could compromise the concoction entirely. After fifteen minutes, I will come around and assess your product. Well then, off you go."

    Dulcin Elixir, huh? Elaine thought to herself. She recognized that name from her studies, where it was mentioned as a relatively harmless potion, known more for its whimsical charm than any significant effects. While the elixir was designed to enhance one¡¯s breath, leaving it with an impeccable and refreshing aroma for up to five days, she had always found the heavy, mint-flavored scent off-putting. Sometimes, it tickled her nose. As Elaine glanced at the chaotic scribbles and equations on the chalkboard behind Professor Lurgs, she couldn¡¯t help but smile slightly, reassured by her memory of the potion''s composition. It wouldn¡¯t be a difficult recipe to recreate, even with its peculiarities. She turned her head slightly to her right, where Simon sat, his expression fixed in a calculated grimace. He was poring over the thick, leather-bound potion textbook, its pages yellowed with age, while fidgeting with an agraciaroot. "Two teaspoons of moon powder," he muttered to himself. "Yes, these measurements need to be exact. And perhaps we should make two elixirs, just in case our first attempt fails."

    Elaine wagged a finger at him. "Err, Simon?"

    "But these calico leaves, hmm, yes, they possess a peculiar tendency to neutralize any given potion''s effects if they aren''t crushed beforehand," Simon muttered, his voice laced with contemplation as he absentmindedly shuffled his notes. "If we add them to our mixture without ensuring they¡¯ve been properly prepared, it could diminish the elixir''s potency significantly. We must excavate its rawest potential¡ªextract every ounce of magic it holds." As he pondered this, a furrow appeared on his brow. "But I wonder how the professor will grade our work. Will it be based solely on the quality of the potion, or will she also consider how we followed the detailed instructions? It¡¯s crucial we balance both aspects to avoid any disastrous results."

    "Si...Simon?"

    "Bah, that should hardly matter. But the riverside mushrooms are known to amplify the effects of a regular healing or enhancement potion. I wonder if they would also bring out the best in this product. It could be why the professor included them in our batch of available ingredients. Then again, they aren''t anywhere mentioned in the instructions or the textbook. Hmm? It might be that this is a trick. Would she also reward students for their ingenuity? Or rather¡ª"

    "Simon!" Elaine shouted. That got the boy''s attention. He shot a glance at her, plainly startled by his wide-eyed expression. "We''d better start. We''re on a time crunch, and even the simplest potions take a while to settle properly."

    Simon pushed his glasses up his nose. "R...Right, of course. Let us proceed."

    From what she had observed of him thus far, Simon Fringe was a pure-hearted academic with an unrivaled inquisitiveness that could rival the most curious of cats. This insatiable thirst for knowledge, while endearing, also served as his greatest fault. If left to his own devices, Simon would likely spend the entire class muttering to himself, lost in thought, and completely neglecting the assignment at hand. Elaine sighed at the prospect; if it ever came to that, she would have to take the lead to redirect his focus. "All right, the ingredients come first," she reminded herself. Fortunately, the Dulcin Elixir recipe was mercifully straightforward, a relief considering the complexities of some potions she had tackled. She recalled with fondness the countless times she had watched her mother skillfully produce high-quality batches of elixir, her hands steady and movements practiced.

    With a measured approach, she filled the miniature cauldron halfway with clear, cool water, watching as it settled with a gentle ripple. Next, she carefully added three generous handfuls of glimmering moon powder. The powder was a delicate blend that sparkled like tiny stars, each grain infused with the magic of the night sky. Following that, she reached for a small jar containing troll ginger, its sharp scent filling her nose as she sprinkled a pinch into the mix. Finally, she added a dusting of lavender, its floral fragrance wafting through the classroom, reminiscent of peaceful evenings in blooming gardens. The careful combination of these ingredients would ensure the elixir would impart the desired sweetness to any person''s breath, a small, delightful enchantment woven into their potion-making. "Simon," Elaine said, sliding a wooden board over to him, "could you chop those agraciaroots for me, please? We''ll need them to counteract the intensity of the ovelpetals."

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    "Understood," he nodded, starting at the cluster of spindly roots with a cleaver. "I have to say, Elaine, you seem to know what you''re doing. I''m impressed. Have you worked at an elixir''s store before? Study under a professional, perhaps?"

    "Actually," Elaine said, stirring the concoction with a spoon, "my parents own a potion shop. I''ve been tutored by them for as long as I can remember. I guess you can say I have a knack for this sort of thing. Casting spells might not be my forte, at least not yet. But making potions is something I can handle."

    "A potion shop, you say? Fascinating," he complimented. "I suppose the adage is true. You countryfolk really are full of surprises. I''ll be counting on you, then."

    Bemused, Elaine smiled at him. Was that meant to be a compliment...?

    "Speaking personally, I''ve always had a larger interest in the actualities and nuances of...well, anything that succeeded in catching my interest," he laughed. "I''m not exactly what you might call a "hands-on" kind of person. More so, I find pleasure in studying how or why something acts and behaves as they do."

    "And yet you want to be a Professional Sorcerer?" Elaine asked.

    Simon groaned. "You have my parents to thank for that. If I had it my way, I''d be attending a Reacher university right now. Nothing beats popping open a good textbook if only to absorb the histories and teachings of the masters of their craft. But I''d be short-sighted if I were not to recognize the importance of my attendance here."

    "A Professional Sorcerer, even amongst noble bloodlines, is a big deal," Elaine said. "I reckon your parents are eager to have one of their own, huh?"

    Simon crashed the cleaver''s blade into the chopping board with a heavy slam! "I''m the portal to a new realm. A ticket to a better life, if you can believe it. I''m of fourth cule, even so, my parents aren''t satisfied. I doubt they will ever be, not until they climb to at least the second. I''m their best means of doing so."

    Elaine frowned. "To me, it sounds like they''re just using you."

    "No, no..." Simon countered. "It''d be disingenuous on my part to proclaim that their intentions won''t ultimately be beneficial to my own interests. It''s the status they seek, and after they''ve obtained it, I''ll be free to act on my own accord. That''s how House Fringe has always operated. Each of us has a part to play. Once I help achieve their dreams, I will only be free to chase my own."

    None of it made much sense to her. Elaine had always thought that parents should act in the best interest of their children, nurturing their growth and happiness. Yet among the nobles, it seemed the opposite was often true¡ªa cold disregard for the well-being of their offspring in favor of ambition and power plays. She released a heavy sigh, a mix of frustration and resignation settling in her chest. Maybe she would never fully grasp their motivations, but at least she wasn¡¯t compelled to embrace their values. Brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she refocused on the task at hand. Simon handed her a small bowl filled with his chopped-up roots¡ªjagged pieces that were a bit too chunky for her liking, but she decided they would suffice. With careful precision, Elaine slid them into the bubbling concoction they were preparing, the fragrant aroma wafting up to greet her senses.

    As she placed the mixture over the rectangular heating panel at the edge of the table, she turned a dial with a soft click, activating the heater. A rush of warm air billowed from the cauldron, grazing her skin with heat. Elaine leaned in closer, watching the liquid inside begin to change. The once-clear water transformed into a swirling purplish hue, the color deepening with every passing moment as the combination of ingredients began to work its magic.

    "Don''t get too close, Simon," Elaine warned, tugging him on his arm. "A potion burn is no joke."

    "Hallocks! All right, as you say," Simon said, hopping in his seat. "And I gather that you''re speaking from past experience?"

    "Yup."

    "...Right, of course," said Simon, awkwardly. "Is that everything, then?"

    "Not yet. We just have to add the..." Elaine trailed off, her brow furrowing in confusion. Where was it? There should have been synthos bark among their ingredients. The unique properties of that particular tree bark were essential; it had the remarkable ability to coalesce the elixir''s fragrance in a person''s throat, creating a lingering, soothing effect that made the elixir''s impacts last much longer than ordinary concoctions. But now, as she scanned the array of jars and bottles before her, it was conspicuously absent. Could it have been a mistake on the part of the professor? She had seen Fearne holding a few pieces of synthos bark in her hands earlier. So where was their supply?

    "Five minutes left, class," Professor Lurgs announced at the front of the classroom.

    "Th...This is bad..." Elaine gulped, hands gripping the edge of the table.

    "How do you mean?"

    "The potion cannot be completed without synthos bark. If we present it in its current state, we''ll fail for sure," Elaine explained frantically. "We have to tell the professor. She might give us some bark if we explain what happened."

    "Hmm. I am not too certain about that."

    "What?" Elaine asked, disbelief contaminating her voice. "Why wouldn''t she?"

    "I''ve noticed," Simon said, "a few of our classmates hadn''t been provided this...synthos bark when the professor distributed the ingredients at the start of the lesson. This isn''t a mistake, Elaine. This is by design."

    Elaine inhaled sharply. "You don''t think...A hidden test?"

    "Yes, more than likely," Simon nodded, running a hand through his dark hair. "Our Professor Marsh did mention that we were to make a good first impression on our professors. This could be what he was referring to. Professor Lurgs, she''s testing us. This isn''t just about reproducing a potion. She''s interested to see how we''d react when confronted with...complications."

    If nothing else, Elaine would credit Simon for his acuteness. She had indeed wondered why Professor Lurgs wasn''t making a more significant effort to monitor the class. She couldn''t be sure that they all knew how to create a potion properly or if any of them would make mistakes. This was why she assigned them the simple Dulcin Elixir. But accidents were common, especially as long as potion-making was involved. Even still, their professor remained at the head of the class, an observative statue with a smile. So that''s it, Elaine thought. Professor Lurgs was interested in how they''d react to unpredictability, the curse of magic and potions alike. She couldn''t make it overly apparent by omitting a synthos bark from all of them. That way, everyone would have noticed her intentional foul play. Elaine imagined that the professor excluded a different ingredient for every other student pairing, maybe so that nobody''s elixir would be exactly the same. But what were they to do now that they''d been robbed of the most crucial ingredient?

    "Say, Elaine?" inquired Simon. "Is it possible to replace the synthos with something else instead?"

    "Yes," Elaine exhaled. "That''s the only option we have, I''m afraid. However, based on our limited components, I''m not entirely sure which we should use."

    Simon readjusted his glasses again. "Well, let''s tackle this from a different perspective."

    "What do you have in mind?"

    "According to the text," Simon said, nodding at the textbook strewn open in front of him, "synthos bark is extracted from the synthos elderwood trees that grow in the Western Groves near Heller Shire. I have to ask, could ingredients originating from neighboring regions also share properties similar to one another? At least, to a certain extent."

    "It''s possible," Elaine confirmed, crossing her arms. Her mother had resorted to doing so whenever their inventory had run dry on a particular item. However, she advised her never to do so if it could be helped. Ingredients were chosen for a specific reason, each with a varying after-effect. Some were deadly.

    "Based on that logic," Simon continued, "it limits our choices to..."

    "Dyson bark," Elaine deduced.

    Both of them stared intently at the scattered wooden shards strewn across a display tray. The fragments were remnants of the dyson tree, a rare species of elderwood known for its deep, intricate patterns and ethereal qualities and a distant relative of the more commonly used synthos wood. As they examined the pieces, Elaine couldn¡¯t help but wonder if they could serve as a suitable surrogate. Potions could be capricious and treacherous when ingredients were mismatched, a lesson deeply engrained from years of practice.

    Elaine recalled her mother¡¯s voice echoing in her mind, cautioning her against reckless experimentation. She repeated the words to herself, feeling the weight of their significance settle heavily in her gut. This was a dangerous idea; the storm brewing in her heart reminded her that she and Simon were pinning their hopes on this risky venture. Taking a steadying breath, she reached out, her fingers brushing the rough texture of a strip of bark, its surface still imbued with the fresh scent of earth and leaves. Simon, mirroring her movements, selected another shard, his brow furrowed with concentration.

    In unison, they dropped the pieces of bark into the bubbling concoction simmering in the cauldron. Instantly, a violent pillar of water erupted from the mixture like a geyser, spraying droplets that glinted in the dim light and nearly splattered across Elaine¡¯s face. A steady stream of silvery smoke billowed upwards, curling towards the rooftop and filling the air with an aromatic if somewhat pungent, scent.  Elaine summoned every ounce of courage she had to gaze into the swirling depths of the elixir. Despite her anticipation of chaos¡ªexplosions or fiery bursts¡ªshe couldn¡¯t shake the fervent hope that this would work.

    "Was it...a success?" Simon asked nervously.

    "It''s stabilizing." Elaine deactivated the heater by sliding a dial. "We''ll never know until we try it out."

    "Ah, then allow me," Professor Lurgs said, appearing behind them and startling Elaine. With a confident motion, she dipped a vial into the cauldron, where the thick purple liquid roiled. As she withdrew the vial, she swirled its contents thoughtfully, observing the hues before bringing it to her lips. Elaine''s heart raced as she watched, her hands gripping the edge of the table with white-knuckled intensity. "Hmm, this is interesting," Professor Lurgs murmured, the corners of her mouth hinting at a satisfied grin.

    "Interesting in a good way?" Elaine said, chuckling anxiously to herself.

    "I see; you used dyson, didn''t you? I recognize that vanilla flavor anywhere."

    "We did, ma''am," Simon answered. "We used it as a substitute for the synthos bark."

    Professor Lurgs smiled at them. "How imaginative!" She breathed into her palm and cupped it around her nose, inhaling with a puff. "The fragrance is a bit dense, but despite that, you''ve done a marvelous job. Color me impressed."

    "You really mean it?" Elaine beamed.

    "Yes, I can tell it was made with care," Professor Lurgs complimented. "I didn''t expect any less from a Harwood. I wouldn''t be surprised if you had potion fluid running through your veins."

    "Wait, miss, you know my family?" Elaine asked, more than surprised.

    "Well, not technically," Professor Lurgs smiled, winking at her. "Back in my younger days, I was good friends with Delilah. Though I must admit, she wasn''t so revered for her aptitude for potioncraft as she was for her Spellcasting. Ah, it''s been so long..."

    "Delilah...?" uttered Elaine. So she was acquainted with my aunt, was she? I guess this means she used to work for the Arcanum as well.

    "In any case," Professor Lurgs continued, "the two of you pass. I hate pulling stunts like this during the first week of classes, but some other professors say that I''m not as tough on my students as I should be. Nonetheless, the fact that you prepared it despite my meddling shows me that not all of you are completely lost in the clouds."

    "Thank you, ma''am!" Elaine happily exclaimed.

    "I''m thrilled to learn that we have met your standards, Professor Lurgs," Simon says, bowing his head at her. The woman smiled at them both and then proceeded to check on the rest of her class. It seemed that Fearne had already finished her concoction. She was fanning herself, wearing a shivering expression covered in dots of sweat. Her partner was trying his best to calm her down. Hopefully, they had passed as well.

    "I suppose we can take it as a personal victory that we''ve succeeded at winning over our professor''s favor," Simon scoffed. He then extended his hand toward her. "Aeris has fortuned me with a suitable partner. I look forward to working with you, Elaine Harwood."

    Elaine chuckled at his unnecessary formality, but she accepted his gesture all the same. "Yeah, same here."

    *

    * *

    The campus sprawled before Elaine, and she felt increasingly adept at navigating its labyrinthine halls. The chatter of students nearby offered a comforting sense of familiarity, easing her worries that she might have strayed too far from her classes. As she walked down the corridor, she cast a quick glance at the hefty textbook cradled in her arms. The spine was worn from previous readings, and it was bursting with densely packed pages, each filled with complicated diagrams and high-concept theories. Was a first-year like her really expected to learn all of this content in just a single school year? Had the curriculum for Transformation Studies been designed with only the most academically prepared in mind? With images from the syllabus spiraling in her thoughts, she braced herself for what promised to be a demanding yet transformative semester.

    Letting out a weary sigh, Elaine stuffed the heavy textbook back into her satchel¡ªits weight shifted uncomfortably on her shoulder, forcing her to lean slightly to her left as she navigated the hallway. She rounded a corner, her heart quickening as she approached the sturdy wooden doors of the classroom at the end of the corridor. To her dismay, there was Fearne, sitting crumpled on the floor amidst a chaotic scatter of textbooks and loose sheets of paper that had spilled out of her satchel, which lay abandoned to the side, its contents haphazardly strewn across the stone floor. Elaine''s eyes widened in shock, concern flooding her mind. Three students hovered over her, their uniforms perfectly pressed and fitted. The trio stood with their arms crossed, casting down disdainful glances, their cruel laughter ringing in the air like an unwanted echo. Each sneer and mocking remark ignited a smoldering rage within Elaine, a fierce tempest that burned like wildfire, leaving no room for hesitation in her heart.

    "Hey!" Elaine shouted, grabbing their attention and turning their heads toward her. "What the hell do you think you''re doing?!"

 Chapter 15 - Minerva

    Elaine felt the coldness of their glares as they sliced into her like invisible blades of a storm. A piece of her wanted to submit to that hesitation, that fragile intimidation. Had she been herself a year ago, Elaine might have feigned ignorance, might have exerted guilty obliviousness. But she was different now. More importantly, however, these students were bothering her friend.

    One of them turned to face her, arms crossed defiantly, as she scrutinized Elaine with a look of utter disdain. The expression on her face suggested that what she saw was as repulsive as a dead rat rotting on the side of the street or a once-elegant dress marred by an unsightly ink stain. Elaine couldn''t help but wonder how she was perceived through those rich, forest-green eyes¡ªwere they mocking her, or simply judging her appearance? The noble girl stood there, her ivory skin almost glowing in the dim light of the hallway, with a slender, triangular face framed by her grayish-brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders like shimmering silk. A tiny mole rested just beneath her right eye. She noticed that the girl was slightly taller than her¡ªperhaps just a few inches¡ªbut it felt like a significant difference as she towered above her with an air of superiority. Though she had on her Glyph uniform no different than any other student, she also wore striking ruby-red earrings, and a polished silver ring adorned the middle finger of her left hand.

    The girl didn¡¯t flinch as Elaine approached. The dull glint in her eyes suggested she was unimpressed, perhaps even disappointed by the interruption. No, it was clearer now¡ªshe was simply bored. The wide yawn that escaped her lips only reinforced that notion. "And who''s this?" she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she leered at Fearne. "A friend of yours?"

    "...I...err..." Fearne stammered.

    It was then that Elaine noticed her roommate had already shed a few tears, tiny droplets glinting on her flushed cheeks. "Yeah, I''m her friend," Elaine declared, her voice tinged with anger, her brow furrowing deeper with each word. "And I demand to know what''s going on here. What are you doing to Fearne?!"

    "Hey, watch your tone. She''s the one that ran into us," said the lanky student with dark hair. He stalked in front of her with a raised chin, aiming a scowl that made his triangular-shaped face stretch. So it appeared that he bested her in both height and attitude. "We just wanted an apology, then she had to go start squirming and making noises."

    Elaine frowned at him. "And just how did she manage to wind up on the floor?"

    "Like I said," he smirked, "the fault was her own. She should have watched where she was going. If you ask me, someone as clumsy as her needs to pay better attention. One of these days, she might bump into the wrong person."

    "Fearne, is that true?" Elaine asked concernedly. Her roommate''s posture was stiff as she stared at the floor beneath her feet, unwilling to meet Elaine''s gaze. "Well, I don''t buy it," Elaine continued, shaking her head. "Even if she really did trip into you, it was a simple accident. It could happen to anyone. And honestly, I don¡¯t care whose fault it was¡ªwhat matters is that you could have helped her. But you just laughed, right? That makes me question the reliability of what you''ve told me."

    "This is pointless," the girl with grayish hair said as she yawned. "It seems Father''s presumptions were accurate."

    "Yeah, he was right on the money," the boy nodded. "Jeez, and after all the contributions our family has made to this academy. These days, I''ve got to wonder if Glyph Academy is purposefully trying to sully its reputation."

    "There were a few notable standouts at Orientation," remarked the other girl, her topaz blue eyes sparkling while her chestnut hair, neatly pulled back into a sleek ponytail, swung gently as she spoke. Her complexion was soft, reminiscent of rich cream. "However, from what I''ve gathered so far, it seems quite common for a few...undesirables to slip through the cracks in such large groups. Case in point."

    "Undesirables?" Elaine repeated angrily. "And just what do you mean by that?"

    "Shouldn''t it be obvious? Clover''s referring to mages like that one back there. Those who are unworthy of using magic, undeserving of the Gift they have unrightfully been bestowed," said the girl with grayish hair.

    Elaine''s eyes narrowed as she scanned the group, lingering on each individual with a scornful gaze. ¡°Unworthy?¡± she scoffed, her voice laced with incredulity. ¡°Do you truly believe the absurdity you¡¯re uttering? Or are you simply hunting for a flimsy excuse to justify what you did to Fearne?¡±

    "Elaine, don''t!" Fearne gasped. "Just drop it..."

    "B...But..." Elaine hesitated.

    The girl with grayish hair fixed her gaze intently on Fearne. After a brief moment of scrutiny, she spun back to face Elaine, their eyes locking in a tense standoff. ¡°So you¡¯re the one, are you?¡±

    "I beg your pardon?"

    "Rumors are going around," she said, "rumors involving a lowborn sorcerer from a no-name Family House randomly enrolling into this semester at the last second. At first, I thought that this sorcerer, in particular, must truly be someone special. I mean, why else would the headmaster make such an honorable exception? Now that I''ve met you in person, well, I''d say Glyph Academy has indeed lowered its standards."

    Elaine gulped at that. She had no intention of informing anyone on the nature of her enrollment. If possible, she''d graduate without telling a single soul. But now there were rumors of which she was the centerpiece. Was she to believe this girl''s words for what they were, or was this merely her attempt at goading her? Elaine couldn''t tell. In spite of that smirk that would make a goblin envious, it was hard to accurately pinpoint what she was thinking. Nothing good, Elaine could imagine. Inhaling, Elaine cleared her mind, calmed her emotions, and steadied her thoughts. This was no different from casting and regulating magic. If she couldn''t control herself, how would she be expected to be a proper Professional Sorcerer? "I fail to see how my enrollment has anything to do with you."

    "Oh, trust me," the girl replied, placing a hand over her chest, "it hardly matters to me how exactly you wormed your way in. No, what bothers me is that you were accepted to begin with. And it isn''t my fault if I overheard a few stories here and there. I mean, naturally, I''d be the first to be informed of any...revelations that occur within the academy."

    "Is that so?" Elaine grumbled. Just who is this girl?

    "Oh, where are my manners? I haven''t even introduced myself, have I?" she said, almost like she had heard Elaine''s thoughts. Flicking back her hair with a practiced motion, she said, "You may refer to me as Minerva Barrows, and it may serve well you to remember that my father is one of the main benefactors of this academy. But he is also a busy man. He can''t always be here to crack the whip, so to speak. And so we take it upon ourselves to ensure everything in Glyph Academy is in order in his stead. What good is there in financing a dying business, after all?"

    "What? I thought the Arcanum funded the academy?"

    "Please, which loser told you that lie?" snickered the dark-haired boy.

    My brother, as a matter of fact, Elaine retorted in her head.

    "Easy on her, William," Minerva chuckled, fingers to her smiling lips. "She can''t help it if she''s misinformed, as so many lowborns commonly are these days."

    "Ha! I suppose you''re right, sis."

    "And as for your friend," Minerva said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder and at Fearne, "I cannot help but wonder what possessed the staff to accept someone like her. I swear, Glyph just lets any sulmo with a wand in."

    Elaine bawled her fists. "Someone like her?"

    "A halfbreed," Minerva said, coldly.

    Wh¡­What? Of course, Elaine recognized the term. ¡°Halfbreed.¡± It was a derogatory label applied to any mage who carried both the blood of magic and the mundane lineage of a dullard. In many ways, being categorized as a halfbreed was more stigmatizing than simply being an average lowborn dullard. In the unforgiving eyes of society, halfbreeds were often seen as vagrants, perpetually teetering between two worlds. They possessed neither the full mastery of true mages nor the straightforward simplicity of dullards. Instead, they existed as anomalies¡ªjarring hiccups in the world of magic. Halfbreeds.

    Elaine had always thought of Fearne as someone with her own brand of quirks, but discovering that she was a halfbreed shocked her. Being a halfbreed would obviously attract a lot of negative attention, so it made sense why Fearne would keep such a significant part of her identity hidden. Yet, this situation also propelled Elaine into a deeper concern: who was behind the whispers and rumors that had surfaced about Fearne''s lineage? The unknown culprits had painted her friend with a brush of scorn, and Elaine felt a surge of protective anger mounting within her. She could summon plenty of unsavory words for those who spread such toxic gossip¡ªnone of which would be particularly kind or forgiving.

    "A halfbreed and a lowborn," Minerva smirked. "Yes, I imagine the two of you will fit right in with that class of Crows."

    As Minerva muttered that word, Elaine caught sight of Fearne''s embarrassment, her shame. She was but a sullen mage slumped on the floor with nothing to say, no defense to retaliate. "And so what if she''s a halfbreed?" Elaine asked firmly. "She still managed to get accepted into the academy regardless, right? Then that means she has just as much of a right to be here as me or you!"

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    Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "No, you don''t get it," she muttered. "This world, it''s defined by the pure and the filth, the dragons and the goblins. Magic is a divine Gift, and should only be cultivated by the worthy amongst the flock."

    There she went again. "You seem to have a twisted understanding of what makes one worthy."

    "I beg to differ," Minerva countered, her voice laced with unwavering calmness. "Halfbreeds and lowborns are not just a blight; they are tainting the very fabric of our society. This Era of Magic is one that should be defined by legends¡ªthose who possess the innate power and noble lineage that sets them apart. In this day and age, it should be an undeniable fact that only individuals of true worth, those who have proven themselves worthy with their inherent and exceptional talent, can hope to attain the esteemed status of a Professional Sorcerer. As for the rest of you? Your roles, while valuable in some aspect, are merely to assist when needed¡ªnothing more, nothing less. Otherwise, I must ask you to kindly step aside and let true talent flourish. It¡¯s plain and simple."

    Elaine lowered her head, shielding her face from view, concealing the disgusted scowl that twisted her features. It wasn¡¯t the expression befitting of a woman. "No," she replied, her voice dropping to a near whisper, betraying her inner turmoil. "Where I come from, people are born with nothing. They have to labor tirelessly, day in and day out, just to scrape together the bare essentials of life. That struggle is potent and unforgiving, and every small achievement feels hard-won, a bitter reminder of the sacrifices made along the way. Worth? One''s aptitude for magic? None of that is inherent! It needs to be earned! As far as I''m concerned, it doesn''t matter if you''re a mage born into privilege, a lowborn, or a halfbreed! Anyone can rise to become a sorcerer if they¡¯re willing to work hard enough! To admit otherwise would be a betrayal of my ideals, the very principles that drive me!" She paused, her chest heaving with the weight of her conviction. "And I have no intention of doing so!"

    "Who do you think you are, talking that way to us!" spat the dark-haired boy. William, that was his name, wasn''t it?

    Minerva raised her hand, and that was enough to silence him. "Elaine. That is your name, is it not? It''s quite apparent that you aren''t from around here," she said calmly. "You seem to be somewhat out of touch with reality."

    "Maybe," Elaine said. "There''s a lot I have to learn. Even still, it doesn''t change my stance on the matter. You can belittle and criticize others all you want, but it won''t change how you fare as a sorcerer."

    "And therein lies the difference between you and myself," Minerva smirked. "I actually have the prowess to back up what I say."

    Elaine hesitated, her breath hitching in her throat as she watched Minerva''s hand glide toward the wand holstered at her waist. The wand was a stunning piece, crafted from pale, polished wood, each detail enhanced by delicate light blue crystals that spiraled up its shaft like tiny, luminous vines. This was no ordinary wand; it was an Advanced Wand, a magical tool that could only be acquired by those with exceptionally deep pockets or powerful connections in the magical community. The sight made her own Common Wand¡ªa simple, unadorned rod of dark wood¡ªfeel painfully bland and inadequate in comparison. Minerva, her green eyes sharp like daggers, pointed the tip of her wand directly at Elaine, her focused glare unyielding and suffused with an unsettling intensity. "You honestly believe that anyone can become a sorcerer? I think it''s high time someone gave you a wake-up call before you get hurt," she said coolly. "Sorcerers aren''t made, they''re born."

    "Wh...What are you...?" Elaine stammered.

    "I''m curious: what exactly is it about you that captured the attention of our headmaster? Go on, draw your wand. Let''s put your resilience to the test."

    Elaine stood frozen where she was. She could hardly comprehend the absurdity of her circumstances. Was she getting challenged to a sorcerer duel? Yes, most definitely. It was tempered by noble restraint, but Elaine saw the hostility in Minerva''s eyes, flickering green flames.

    "Now hang on a moment, sis," said William, tugging her by the arm. "You''re aware of the rules, as am I. We can''t initiate a duel, not unless it''s¡ª"

    "Fret not, this won''t take long. I''ll finish her with a single spell." She sounded confident, and it aggravated Elaine to no end. "What''s the matter? Catch cold feet, or are you merely a coward pretending to be something you''re not?"

    Duels. She had witnessed her fair share. The thrill that accompanied combat was intoxicating, a dangerous dance that ignited the senses and sent adrenaline surging through one''s veins. Yet she had only ever experienced the edges of that gleeful chaos¡ªnever had she been fully immersed in the ferocity of the fight. Now, as she stood on the precipice of becoming a participant, her emotions simmered like molten metal, while her heart throbbed with an exhilarating rhythm that felt both alien and familiar. It was a feverish melody, electrifying her nerves, coaxing her to embrace the anticipation that crackled like sparks in the air. Was this the same electrifying sensation that consumed Ellend each time he prepared to engage in a duel?

    Mother, why does Ellend like dueling so much? That question, Elaine remembered asking it not long after her eldest brother tramped upstairs to his room battered and covered in bruises, the prizes of another day''s successful duel.

    Who''s to say, my love?  her mother replied disappointedly, sighing as she began clearing the dinner table of now-empty plates. Elaine did what she could to help, clutching as many drinking glasses as she could carry and scampering off to the kitchen, where the woman had already gotten busy wiping plates with a washcloth. Magic can be so beautiful if we allow it. And yet, sorcerers these days always manage to reveal how hideous it can be.

    That young Elaine, who knew nothing beyond Page''s borders, frowned with distaste. You mean...like rogue sorcerers?

    Especially rogue sorcerers, her mother had said in a foreboding tone. However, Professional Sorcerers fall victim to that insanity as well. Your brother, he loves magic. Loves to use it when he gets into fights. I fear that it might lead him down a dark path. Nevertheless, if you ask me, Elaine, real magic should never be used to hurt someone.

    I...I don''t want that...Elaine heard that answer in her ears as if she herself had just uttered those very same words.

    Back then, her mother had patted her atop her head, and a smile that could illuminate the heavens beamed down at her. If only every sorcerer could be like you, Elaine. Then, this world would be a much better place.

    Real magic, no, a real sorcerer shouldn''t be using their powers to bring harm upon others, not if it could be avoided. And yet, in direct opposition to her beliefs, Elaine felt her hand inching to the wand holster on her waist. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, and her mouth turned dry. Was this...actually happening? What would become of her should she fire a spell right here and now? Would that be a duel she could win? A duel she could come back from? As Minvera was about to brandish her wand herself, suddenly, the girl spat a frustrated sigh and retracted the instrument back into its holster.

    Huh? Now, what''s she up to? Elaine thought.

    Someone cleared their throat behind her, and Elaine whirled around. "What''s all this then?" Hound asked in his distinctive heavy voice, his eyes bubbling like liquid gold in a pot. For such a colossus of a man, he was remarkably stealthy to be able to creep up on them as he''d done. He had his arms crossed, and his beard shifted around his scowl. Elaine was about to say something, but Minerva beat her to it. "Nothing worth dwelling over," she said, nonchalant yet dignified. "My friends and I were just on our way to class."

    "And what of her?" Hound said, motioning at Fearne with a head tilt.

    "An accident," Minerva replied. "Nothing more, nothing less. Now, if you excuse us, we''ll be on our way. Come, William, Clover. We''ve kept these Crows long enough."

    Elaine clenched her jaw, keeping her mouth shut as the three of them strode past Hound and down the corridor. She could feel the impact of Minerva''s icy glare despite its briefness, a silent message that screamed, "Know your place, filth. And stay out of my way." The unspoken threat lingered in the air like a venomous cloud. Once they rounded the corner and faded from view, Elaine wasted no time. Her heart raced as she bolted toward Fearne, dropping to her knees beside her friend, reaching out with concern flooding her voice. "Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes searching Fearne''s for any sign of hurt.

    "Yes," Fearne nodded. "I''m fine, really. You didn''t have to¡ª"

    "I did," Elaine swiftly countered. "I can''t stand people who treat others with disrespect! That girl, Minerva, she went too far!"

    Hound groaned behind them. "I was hoping there wouldn''t be any problems today. Guess I was being too optimistic."

    Elaine helped Fearne gather her scattered papers. Fortunately, most of them were blank pages. Those that had been carried off by the wind or stained with muddy footprints weren''t of any value. Albeit, it took a lot for Elaine to ignore the accumulating annoyance boiling her blood. "Were they telling the truth?"

    "Of what?" Hound inquired.

    "They''re nobles, sure. But are they really that big of a deal here?"

    "Ah, the Barrows. Yes, well, that Family House is quite something," Hound grumbled. "In the old days, we counted on the Arcanum for funding. It was a give-and-take kind of relationship. They''d provide us with the necessary finances, and we''d, in turn, produce Professional Sorcerers they could absorb into their ranks."

    "So what changed?"

    "Incante, to be frank," Hound said. "Back then, sorcerers didn''t have much of a choice regarding what they could do for a living. The Military hadn''t opened its State Sorcerer Division yet, so that meant most sorcerers typically enlisted for the Arcanum. Nowadays, with the mage population on the rise, as well as more forms of magic being discovered practically on a daily, it means that we require more...assets so that the academy can run as efficiently as we need it to. People with resources, influence¡ª"

    "Noble families," Elaine deduced.

    "Now you''re getting it," Hound said, nodding at her. "And House Barrows is at the top of our list. Those two just now¡ªMinerva and William¡ªaren''t your average noble brats. From what I hear, they''ve been trained with magic since they were pups. I wouldn''t advise making an enemy out of them."

    Elaine helped Fearne off the floor, placing the last of her scattered documents into the girl''s satchel. "So are we to just let them keep treating people like this?"

    "Of course not. I''ll have a word with the headmaster, tell him what''s what," Hound affirmed. "Meanwhile, I ask that you not antagonize them. Lest you''re capable of beating them in a duel, that is."

    "What did they mean when they called us crows?" Fearne asked.

    Hound scratched his beard, the surgin'' thing looked awfully itchy. "Hmm, well, it really isn''t my place to touch on this all too touchy subject. Let''s just say, some handful of years ago, when ole Allan was still a relatively new professor, there was an...incident involving one of his students."

    Elaine''s eyes went round. "What kind of incident?"

    "The not-so-pretty kind," Hound muttered. "Ever since then, our Abyssal Sorcerer, as well as Homeroom Class 7, has withheld somewhat of a negative reputation. Most around here think it''s cursed, and started referring to the students assigned to it as "Crows". It''s all just nonsense to me." There was an old proverb that whenever a flock of crows gathered, whenever they amassed in the skies with their beating wings, horrific screeches, and black feathers, an unparalleled disaster was sure to follow. A cruel title, indeed. "Oh, I wouldn''t put much stock in it, lass," Hound said, shrugging his massive shoulders. "Just kids being stupid kids."

    "Y...Yeah," Elaine nodded. "Come on, Fearne. We should probably be getting to class as well."

    Hound was right; there was no reason to torment herself over something as trivial as this. Yet, the exhilarating prospect of a duel stirred a fire deep within her heart. Minerva¡¯s bold declarations, delivered with fierce confidence, resonated in her mind like a challenge thrown from the very precipice of a cliff. It sparked an insatiable desire in her to embark on something daring, something reckless, compelling her to prove that arrogant goldblood wrong. In time, Elaine would ensure that Minerva knew what she was truly capable of as a budding Professional Sorcerer.

 Chapter 16 - Aptitude

    "Crows, huh?" Custas snickered. "I kinda like it. Makes us sound mysterious, enigmatic, bold!"

    Elaine rolled her eyes. "It wasn''t meant as a compliment, Custas. According to Hound, everyone thinks of us as a blight on the academy."

    "Again, not really seeing the issue here. If anything, it just paints us as sorcerers not to be trifled with."

    "Forget it," Elaine sighed. This "bad news" obviously wasn''t getting through to him, its connotations flying ignorantly over his head.

    The snickering boy leaned casually against the edge of the desk, arms crossed as Fearne took a seat at the desk beside him. Her usually vibrant demeanor was overshadowed by her discomfort at the confrontation with Minerva¡ªher expression was a mix of anxiety and pain. She hadn''t spoken much since, and Elaine knew when to hold back and not pry into personal matters. She had seen this particular kind of expression before, one that manifested a heavy heart. The way Fearne sat¡ªshoulders hunched and posture slouched¡ªwas reminiscent of Liam''s demeanor whenever he faced Mother¡¯s reprimands, which were often a result of mischief that escalated beyond innocent fun. Elaine could easily recognize the unmistakable signs: defeated sighs that escaped like whispered regrets, a reluctance to meet anyone''s gaze, and an overwhelming desire to retreat into solitude; out of respect for her friend, Elaine chose to remain a comforting presence in silence.

    She trusted that Hound would honor his word and initiate a serious discussion with the headmaster regarding the trio of bullies who had been tormenting her roommate. But was she being overly optimistic in believing that this would yield any real results? Over time, Elaine had learned that even a noble who lacked magical abilities could wield enough influence to reshape the world to their advantage. If Minerva''s father truly held a significant position within the academy''s hierarchy¡ªas a wealthy benefactor or a member of an esteemed family¡ªcould the headmaster, or any staff member for that matter, really afford to reprimand his children? Furthermore, despite Fearne''s insistence that they drop the subject to avoid further complications, a nagging curiosity drove her to unravel the mystery behind the whispers circulating through the school. How had anyone come to discover the details of her last-minute enrollment or Fearne¡¯s mixed heritage as a halfbreed? More critically, what other potentially damaging secrets were in the hands of this gossip, and how long would it be before they began spreading rumors about Glyph as well?

    "So, you had a run-in with the Barrows, did you?" Custas asked snarkily.

    "Unfortunately," Elaine grumbled, her voice tinged with frustration. "And I can''t say they were the most welcoming of folks. They barred us from entering the classroom, all because I own a commoner¡¯s wand rather than one of their so-called ''high-class'' Advanced Wands." As she spoke, Elaine''s gaze flickered to Fearne, who winced in her seat. Elaine wouldn¡¯t reveal to Custas the true reason for her targeting¡ªnot today. Secrets, after all, were like precious gems; they belonged solely to their owner, and it was important to keep them hidden, preserved from prying eyes.

    "Man, guys like them really make me sick," Custas spat. "I swear they''d have you believe the entire world revolved around them. Delusional sulmos."

    "You know them?"

    "Eh...sort of. Saw them once at, let''s say, a social gathering for nobles in the Capital. I doubt they remember me though."

    Elaine raised a brow. "You live in the Capital?"

    "Lived, past tense," Custas corrected. "And...kinda..."

    "Right, and tell me, just what were you doing at a noble event?"

    "Hey, a guy''s gotta make a living somehow," Custas snickered. "In any case, House Barrow are kinda like celebrities. They''re known for their lucrative trading businesses, specializing in the mass production and distribution of enchanted items in and out of the country. Word on the street is that they''ve got their fingers in quite a few upper-status circles. People these days crave their notoriety, their influence. So it isn''t too surprising to hear they''re sponsoring Glyph Academy to some extent. But it does make dealing with their snobby nobleings that much more difficult."

    Elaine found herself lost in thought, recalling the moment with Minerva, whose condescending expression had etched itself into her memory like a brand. The sheer arrogance radiating from Minerva had been infuriating, and as Elaine reminisced, she caught herself wrestling with the urge to snap the pencil in her hand. Instead, she opted to grip the edge of her table, her knuckles white with tension, which drew a curious stare from Custas and a few other classmates, their whispers buzzing around her like flies. Minerva had wielded her wand with an air of superiority, pointing the stylish, intricately carved instrument directly at her. At that moment, it took Elaine longer than she''d care to admit to recognize the gravity of the situation¡ªthey were on the brink of a duel.

    What would have happened if she had accepted that challenge? The image of herself, wand in hand, channeling her magic into a powerful burst of energy, filled her mind. She envisioned a colorful display of magic illuminating the corridor as she fired back at the noblewoman with fierce determination. Yet, as that potential future played out, Elaine was reminded of the weight of her hesitation. It wasn''t merely about stepping up to the sorcerer''s duel; it was about the uncertainty of victory. Winning a duel required not just courage, but skill, and the realization made her heartbeat quicken, leaving her with more questions than answers. I ask that you not antagonize them, she heard Hound say inside her head. Lest you''re capable of beating them in a duel, that is.

    Elaine was a mage, a sorcerer in training. She had never considered herself a fighter; the world of dueling, while undeniably thrilling, was a realm filled with peril that she preferred to observe from a safe distance. Her thoughts often drifted back to a particularly harrowing tale from her childhood, one that clung to her like a shadow. It involved a local farm boy who had, through sheer misfortune and lack of control, inadvertently set his family''s homestead ablaze. The flames had danced fiercely, consuming crops and wood alike, leaving nothing but charred remains in their wake. His father suffered severe burns while attempting to save their livestock, underscoring a lesson she encountered repeatedly amid her endeavors in sorcery: magic was akin to a griffin, majestic yet savage, or a veladora snaptrapper, beautiful but deadly.

    Elaine understood that her burgeoning abilities were a double-edged sword; they sparked fascination and excitement within her, yet also demanded respect and caution. She realized it was crucial to temper the intoxicating allure of her powers, lest the reckless thrill lead her down a path of devastation. If she allowed herself to be swept into reckless competition, even once, it could very well end in ruin¡ªnot just for her, but for others as well. She had witnessed that tragedy firsthand with her eldest brother, whose arrogance in the pursuit of magical prowess had led to his downfall.

    "Hey, Fearne, I don''t mean to be nosey, but maybe it''d be better if you sat this lesson out, yeah?" Custas carefully suggested. Fearne wrapped her arms around herself and didn''t meet either of their concerned stares. "We could always ask the professor to excuse you if you''re not feeling well. I mean, it''s kind of hard to focus when you''ve got other...problems on your plate."

    "You mean for me to miss a class on my first day here? And what good would that do?" Fearne asked, her expression distant and barren. "I came here to study magic. I won''t let one bad encounter jeopardize my dream. I''ll just have to live with it...for now."

    Custas glanced at Elaine. Was he expecting her to say something, to challenge Fearne''s sentiment? No, she had nothing. And if her friend really was intent on dropping the matter, then she''d leave her be. Realistically speaking, she couldn''t think of anything to say that would automatically cheer the girl up. She hadn''t that much light in her, certainly not enough to illuminate an abyss. As morbid as it sounded, sometimes people procured contentment in isolation.

    A thunderous slam! erupted in Elaine''s ears, getting her to jump in her seat out of sheer surprise. It ushered a reaction from the rest of the class, too; some poor student at the front of the room had tripped over his shoes and stumbled into a nearby desk. "All right, you imps! Go ahead and take your seats! Class has officially begun!" In strode a large tan-skinned fellow with a bald head that practically gleamed. His hulking frame, robust and imposing, was contained beneath a dark blue jacket that seemed tailored to match his powerful physique; the fabric stretched across broad shoulders and a barrel-like chest. He possessed a pair of deep-set, dark eyes that sparkled with intensity, and his neatly trimmed sideburns traced down the angles of his square-shaped face. As he smiled, his wide teeth formed a dazzling, almost plated grin.

    Something about this man struck a chord with Elaine; there was an odd familiarity about him that nagged at the edges of her memory. Most of the staff at Glyph Academy were renowned sorcerers, each plucked from prestigious organizations like the Arcanum. Could this towering figure be among their ranks as well? She certainly struggled to recall such a striking presence. The man, though not as muscular as Hound, stood almost as tall, his physicality commanding attention. As he marched towards his desk, each heavy step resounded with authority, boots thundering against the floor. With every stride, her mind rippled with fleeting waves of memory¡ªglimpses of faces and names from distant days¡ªbut ultimately, they slipped away like sand through her fingers, leaving only a lingering curiosity about who he truly was.

    "It''s a pleasure to be here today!" he announced with a roar. His explosive yet solid tone would take some getting used to. "My name is Jared Knight, and I''ll be your instructor for this Spellcasting Class!"

    Jared Knight...? Elaine thought. Nope, it''s still not ringing any bells.

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    "Now, then, we''ve got a busy semester ahead of us, so let''s get right to it. Hmm, first on our list...is that of...err, what was it again?" Professor Knight''s eyes flashed with what could best be described as bubbling agitation, as if he''d forgotten something important or a frustrating memory had returned to haunt him. "Hmm...shall we begin with the criteria...?"

    "Sir," called Adeline, raising her hand. "I don''t mean to interfere, but wouldn''t it be better if we started by taking attendance? This is our first time attending your class, after all."

    "Ah! Attendance! Right!" The large man shuffled through the documents on his desk, and he clicked his tongue as he procured three long sheets of thin paper. "Okay, then, first up is...Malcom Agott."

    "Present," said the light-haired boy seated at the desk next to a window at the front of the class.

    "Okay, Lily Binx."

    "Here!" called the short-haired girl with a round face and pigtails sitting in the second row.

    "...Abigail Bovine...?"

    The quiet, brown-skinned girl gave a nod at him. "That would be me¡ª"

    "Argh! This is too boring!" Professor Knight screamed to the ceiling, grabbing the sides of his head. "I hate the start of new semesters! They always force me to do this useless crap! Don''t those surgin'' sulmos upstairs know that someone like me isn''t built for patience!"

    Elaine furrowed her brow at him. But won''t you have to take attendance every day?

    Their steaming professor slumped into his chair, plainly defeated, plopping down with a loud thump. He would stay in that unmotivated state for the next five minutes or so¡ªnobody in class dared to interrupt him, not even the adept Adeline¡ªuntil a wide sneer split on his face. The man hopped out of the chair, clenching a fist in front of him. "It''s settled then!"

    "Uh, what is, sir...?" Simon reluctantly asked.

    "Ah! We won''t be wasting time running through the motions. I''ll leave that sort of nonsense to the others," Knight grinned at him. "You don''t know a lot about me, I get that. But if there''s something I advise that you keep in mind, well, it''s that I was taught from a young age that it''s easier to practice Spellcasting effectively when you''ve got your blood pumping!"

    "Blood pumping?" Adeline repeated. "Care to elaborate, sir?"

    Knight''s smirk grew even wider. "Now, why would I do that? It''d spoil the fun."

    *

    * *

    The professor had guided them to an expansive room on the seventh story of the academy, the walls of which were made of thick, orange-colored bricks.

    In the center of the vast room, a magic circle was intricately inscribed into the stone floor. The circle shimmered with a deep amethyst hue, the runes elegantly arranged in the shape of a massive five-pointed star. Each rune appeared to pulse softly with latent energy, while the outer rim was adorned with spiraling symbols, and surrounding the circle, a jagged perimeter of earthen stumps and rugged rocks created a natural barrier. As Elaine stepped into the room, she was immediately captivated by its grandeur. Towering stone pillars soared from the ground, their rough surfaces etched with the passage of time, reaching up to the high, vaulted ceiling.

    The corners of the room were shrouded in deep shadows, where the shapes of wooden crates stacked haphazardly and the remnants of burnt training dummies loomed. The dummies bore the marks of countless magical encounters, their fabric singed and frayed, with deep scorch marks and ragged tears that told stories of past lessons in Spellcasting. Elaine pondered how their professor might integrate these worn-out dummies into their training sessions.

    As she ventured deeper into the room, Elaine''s attention was drawn to a set of metal bleachers on her left, their once-sleek surfaces now marred by patches of rust. To her right, an arched passageway jutted from the rough-hewn stone wall, its edges worn smooth by time and possibly the hands of many who had passed through. Beyond this passage, an eclectic display of bizarrely shaped tools and rusted weapons adorned the wall like a museum exhibit, each piece hanging with a sense of solemn history. The dim space was illuminated by an array of torches mounted along the walls, their flickering flames casting a warm, oily glow that danced across the surfaces, creating shifting shadows that seemed to come alive in the corners of the room. Professor Knight strode down the stairs leading to the magic circle, and then he spiraled around¡ªarms on his waist¡ªto face the crowd of bewildered and silent students that Elaine was a part of. There was an eagerness in each of his steps. Obviously, the professor was excited to put into motion whatever lesson he had concocted.

    "Wow!" exclaimed Jack next to her. "Now, this is a training arena! I bet we''ll learn some wicked spells in here! Ain''t that right, teach?"

    "Something like that," Professor Knight chuckled, and he snapped his fingers.

    In a blinding flash of iridescent light that compelled several of her classmates to avert their gaze, an ensemble of strange, lifeless humanoids materialized around the tall man. Their skin, a disconcerting gray hue mottled with segmented stitching lines, gave them an almost puppet-like appearance. Lanky arms and legs elongated beyond the norm, leading to unsettling frames that seemed to hint at a disjointed anatomy. What struck Elaine most were their absence of mouths and the haunting quality of their dead-eyed stares; where eyes should have been were merely lifeless slits devoid of emotion. Elaine immediately recognized them for what they were: homunculi¡ªartificial beings birthed from the skillful hands of enchanters, each designed with a specific, often servile purpose.

    While homunculi could take on many bizarre shapes and sizes, this particular group seemed strangely conservative. The eerie stillness of their forms, paired with the unsettling rigidity of their stances, sent a chill down her spine; Elaine could feel her throat constricting. Nestled within their chests, a turquoise crystal pulsed rhythmically, resembling the steady pulse of a heartbeat. Unlike worker golems, which drew their power from hearthstones, these homunculi were animated by modified wunderstones¡ªarkstones¡ªspecially crafted to infuse artificial life into their constructions. Each homunculus loitered idly, yet some shifted their weight restlessly from side to side, as if waiting with unsettling patience for their master to issue a command. At that moment, Elaine comprehended a harsh truth: these weren''t living organisms, but rather pale imitations of life, masks that could walk yet were absent of genuine vitality.

    "I''ll have to apologize to Mantle later," Professor Knight admitted with a laugh. "He won''t be a fan of me swiping his prized homunculi collection at the last second. Ah, well, nothing in this life is won without a bit of sacrifice. Gather around, you implings. These guys were enchanted to attack their designated targets: all of you. Ha! Isn''t that fun? You''ll each have a personal magic-training buddy, one that doesn''t talk back, get tired, or complain that you accidentally broke their arm!"

    Elaine felt her mouth hang open. "...You want us to...fight them? Here and now?"

    "Sure do!" Professor Knight happily exclaimed. "This is a Spellcasting Class! So I want to see how well you cast your spells."

    "Hell yeah!" exclaimed Jack. He pounded a fist into his palm. "Now we''re talking! I''ve been itching to let loose!"

    "Wait, hang on a sec," Custas called, quickly making his way to the front of the crowd. "This is a class, isn''t it? What if some of us don''t know any combat spells? Aren''t you going to teach us the bare essentials first?"

    Professor Knight laughed. "I believe a sorcerer''s natural instincts are great teachers all on their own, and fear is a more than serviceable motivator."

    Knight snapped his fingers once again, and in an instant, one of the homunculi broke free from the tightly clustered group. A cloud of dust and debris swirled around it as it swiftly closed the distance between itself and the students, its movements fluid and unnerving. To Elaine''s relief, the creature displayed no interest in her, Fearne, Simon, or Jack, as if they were mere ghosts against the chaos. Instead, its nonexistent eyes were fixed solely on Custas. The homunculus surged forward, almost as if it were being drawn in by an invisible force, its spindly limbs reaching out like a spider¡¯s legs unfurling in pursuit of prey. Panic washed over Custas'' face and he pivoted sharply on his heel, desperation fueling a hasty retreat as he darted away. As he weaved and squirmed through the throngs of shocked students¡ªwho stood frozen as if time had momentarily stopped¡ªthe homunculus pursued him with an alarming speed. It was almost a blur, its motion causing a gust of air that made Elaine''s hair billow wildly behind her.

    "You¡¯ve gotta be kidding me!" Custas shouted, his voice laced with sheer terror as he sprinted for his life. His eyes darted toward the exit doors as he pushed his way through the bewildered crowd, their faces etched with confusion and fear. Upon reaching them, he wrapped his fingers tightly around the cold metal handles, pulling with every ounce of strength he could muster. He heaved with all his might, his muscles straining, but the doors remained obstinately shut, as if sealed by some unseen magic. "What the?! Why won¡¯t these surgin¡¯ things¡­!" he shouted, the strain of his voice rising in pitch as he gritted his teeth and pulled harder. He arched his back, desperation driving him to wrestle with the unyielding doors, but they remained firmly steadfast, leaving him vulnerable to the relentless advance of the homunculus.

    "I''d give that up if I were you," Professor Knight called. "Those doors have been enchanted by yours truly only to open once the lesson is over. No, I suppose it''d be more accurate to say they''ll let you out once I deem this exercise to be finished."

    "No way! You jerk!" Custas growled.

    His homunculus pursuer lunged for him, its grotesque form twisting as it moved. Custas instinctively dropped to the ground and rolled just in time. The homunculus''s bony fist, with its long, claw-like fingers, connected with the massive entrance doors behind him, slamming into the wood with a thunderous crack. The impact reverberated through the room, causing both doors to shudder violently, the sound echoing like a warning. Custas scrambled to his feet and scrambled off as fast as he could before the homunculi could continue its onslaught. Elaine had watched the engagement with her eyelids peeled back and her jaws slackened. If Custas had been struck by that attack...

    "Today is all about aptitude, you worthless imps!" Professor Knight announced as the homunculus gave chase to Custas again. "Sure, I can teach you a combat spell or two but every one of you has made it into this academy on your own merits. And so I''m eager to witness your skills for magic firsthand."

    Another sharp snap of fingers and in an instant, the entire homunculus horde surged into action. They charged forward like a tempest, a whirlwind of claws and limbs kicking up clouds of dust. Elaine felt her breath hitch as she gasped, her heart racing with a mix of fear and exhilaration. Around her, those who hadn¡¯t succumbed to a paralyzing terror had already drawn their wands, their faces set with determination. Elaine realized then that freezing in place would only seal her fate; clenching her jaw, she recalled the voice that had echoed in her mind. Show them that you''re earnest, that you belong here, it urged. She drew a deep breath, recalling that Professor Knight was no different from the other professors she had encountered¡ªeach one a gatekeeper of sorts, testing the capabilities and resolve of their students.

    Intent on rising to the occasion, Elaine gripped her commoner''s wand tightly, feeling the familiar wood warm against her palm. Her heart raced, but she steeled her emotions, shoving aside any lingering doubts. If a battle lay ahead, she would face it with unwavering focus, clarity of purpose, and, above all, strength. She was ready to prove herself; she was ready to embrace the challenge.

 Chapter 17 - Spontaneous Sorcery

    It was a chaotic tapestry, woven from a riot of colors that seemed to swirl and clash sporadically in the air. Shards of shimmering magic erupted in chaotic bursts, illuminating faces with brilliant flashes that left behind glassy afterimages. Nearby, a cacophony of voices filled the atmosphere as feet scampered in a frenzied dash, their owners shouting fervently, each cry overlapping with the next, forming a discordant symphony that echoed through the tumultuous training room. Amid this pandemonium, Essence¡ªthe very fabric of magic itself¡ªspilled forth in turbulent waves, manifesting as unstable spells that flickered erratically like faulty bulbs straining to stay lit. Sparks crackled and zapped through the melee, their electric tendrils snaking out to tease and sting anyone caught too close to the fray, leaving trails of brightness in their wake.

    Elaine had honed her skills in surviving cluttered environments over the years. Whenever the Sycamore Festival arrived each year in Page, she and her family found themselves locked in a similar discordant battle against the throngs that flooded the streets. The festival attracted not only Page residents but also visitors from neighboring towns and villages, turning the once quiet streets into a labyrinth of bodies and noise. Navigating through it was a challenge, requiring deft maneuvering to avoid being jostled or shoved to the ground. However, unlike the festival, this exercise did not come with the thrill of festive energy¡ªhere, she had to contend with the very real danger of getting struck in the face by an explosive ball of magic.

    Just then, as emerald lightning split the air above, Elaine instinctively dropped to her knees, narrowly avoiding an arc of magic that sizzled just overhead. She caught sight of a homunculus not far from where she cowered, stomping its feet into the ground as it pursued another student with famished determination. Once Professor Knight had initiated the exercise, the homunculi had wasted no time. They pounced with vigor, their mismatched limbs flailing in eager search of the students they were tasked to hunt. As Elaine scrambled to her feet, she realized with a jolt that one homunculus had focused solely on her, staring at her without eyes with unsettling intelligence. Well, then. I reckon you''re my opponent, Elaine thought, grinning nervously. Confirming her suspicions, the homunculus lowered itself into a crouch, then lunged at her in an elastic display of agility. It smudged into a blur, and fostered no sympathy for those¡ªmay they be human or homunculus¡ªwho it had rammed out of the way along its aggressive charge.

    It was coming for her.

    Surges, it was coming for her!

    Elaine hesitated as she watched the creature swing back one of its skeletal limbs, forming bony fingers into a tight fist, and hopped several meters into the air, its shadow grazing across the stone floor like a formless, black-colored ghost. Reacting in a hurry, Elaine jumped away, her boots coming to a stop from where she slid over the amethyst magic circle and the enormous runes it comprised. A second later, the homunculus landed in a loud vibration of dust and stone. As the sheet of grime filtered out of existence, Elaine was surprised¡ªand terrified¡ªthat a sizable crater had been formed from where the homunculus'' fist had plowed into the floor. Light and shadows, these creatures could kill someone. And she felt that their professor was aware of that fact. Yet he authorized the exercise regardless? Out of the corner of her glance, Elaine spotted the bald man sitting on the bleachers to her left.

    Was he grading them? Elaine scanned the large man, searching for the telltale papers that might indicate such scrutiny, but found nothing; Professor Knight didn''t even have a pen or a clipboard in sight. So what was he doing? The glistening light in his eyes and the amused smile playing on his lips suggested he was relishing the madness unfolding before him, soaking it all in like an audience member at a demented circus. At least someone was enjoying themselves. Elaine, on the other hand, certainly wasn''t.

    The homunculus pivoted itself at her and lunged, sweeping an arm across the dusty floor as it charged forward, leaving a swirling trail of debris in its wake with every thunderous stomp. In just a few heartbeats, it would breach her personal space. So why wasn¡¯t she taking action? She had a wand in her hand; she was a sorcerer in training. Yet, she froze in place, caught between fear and the desire to unleash her power. Elaine''s eyes locked on the Common Wand wrapped in her fingers. Yes, she couldn''t just stand around looking helpless. Setting her jaw, she pointed the tip of the wand at the approaching homunculus. But only then did a horrifying discovery strike her like a bolt of lightning to a tree. She guessed that Custas was probably buying himself some time, or maybe there was indeed an aspect of truth attached to the words flung off the tongue of the liar. Whatever the answer may be, what was perfectly apparent to her now was that she had only ever mastered one spell.

    One.

    Single.

    Spell.

    And unfortunately for her, it wasn''t a combat spell. Elaine ducked agilely out of the way as a massive arm swept overhead. Now that she was this close to the abnormal creature, she could clearly see just how diminutive she was in comparison to the homunculus. It felt as if she were an ant standing before a colossus, its towering frame dwarfing her both in height and intimidation. The expression on its round, featureless head was vacant, yet a fierceness burned behind its artificial flesh. A flickering light of turquoise pulsed rhythmically, echoing the thrum of the diamond-shaped core lodged deep within its chest, an ominous beacon of energy. With a sudden, jarring movement, the homunculus flashed with a wild distortion as it prepared its next strike. Its three-toed foot lifted effortlessly off the ground, the muscles in its leg taut and coiled like a predator ready to pounce. Elaine, her heart racing, couldn''t stifle a gasp that escaped her lips as she instinctively leaped to the side, narrowly evading the rapid attack, dust and debris erupting around her as she landed. The creature''s foot slammed down where she had just stood, sending shockwaves rippling through the ground and causing fissures to zig-zag across the stone like the crooked legs of a spider.

    Elaine leaped backward, not taking her eyes off the creature, and the sudden jolt of someone ramming into a shoulder zapped her with a crunch. Flesh and bone, a human. "Hey!" Abigail hissed, sparing over her shoulder an annoyed scowl. "Watch where you''re going, Alaina!"

    "Err...it''s Elaine actually..." Elaine frowned in response, but she wasn''t entirely certain if the girl had heard her as, with a practiced agility, Abigail sidestepped just in time to dodge a punch thrown by the grotesque homunculus¡ªits form a twisted parody of humanity, all jagged edges and malformed features. She pivoted smoothly to her left, gathering her Essence before unleashing a surge of turquoise magic that surged from her wand like a tidal wave. The blast struck the creature with a resounding impact, causing it to stagger back, momentarily stunned. Elaine watched as a ripple of energy raced up the homunculus''s legs, a shiver reminiscent of how her dog Milo would shake himself off after getting drenched. For but a moment, Elaine dared to hope that Abigail¡¯s attack might bring it down, though it ultimately only seemed to infuriate the creature further. With a frustrated curse escaping her lips, Abigail retreated in a hopping, backward trot, her eyes wide with determination.

    Rapid footsteps sounded behind her, pulling Elaine¡¯s attention to where she spotted her homunculus barreling toward her with a frenetic enthusiasm that made its somewhat misshapen diaphragm flex and contort in a way that seemed almost comical. The creature''s awkward gait, a result of its hastily sewn-together limbs, made Elaine momentarily wonder how it had managed to avoid tripping over itself in its frenzied sprint. As she stood rooted to the spot, a familiar wave of frustration washed over her¡ªshe was painfully aware that she didn''t possess a spell potent enough to inflict any serious damage on her foe.

    Just as the homunculus closed the gap, misfortune struck: another of its own clones collided with it, sending both tumbling in an uncoordinated spiral. They crashed down in a chaotic heap, their grey limbs flailing wildly as they struggled to regain their footing. Gasping for breath, Elaine stole a quick glance to her side, where a glimpse of her classmate Cael caught her attention. He stood a short distance away, his dark hair styled in an unmistakable bowl cut. With a wand pointed towards the writhing mass of homunculi, his lips curled into a faint, smug leer. There was a pale, blue-colored gaseous mist swarming around his ankles, entirely swallowing his boots. Is that his magic? Elaine wondered. What effect does it have? Maybe it increases his magical power, a special kind of enhancement?

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Elaine violently shook her head from side to side, her hair whipping around her face. Now wasn¡¯t the time to get distracted¡ªnot at all! With beads of sweat clinging to her brow, she had to focus. Cael¡¯s magic, while undeniably impressive, wasn¡¯t enough to keep the homunculus immobilized indefinitely. A few meters away, she discerned the two homunculi scrambling to regain their footing, their movements disjointed and unnatural despite the damage they had just sustained. Then again, most homunculi were not designed to feel pain; to them, the searing sensations coursing through their artificial bodies were mere distractions from their singular purpose of accomplishing their directives.

    Elaine took a trembling step back, her grip tightening around her wand, the cool, familiar wood grounding her amidst the insanity. Just as she struggled to regain her composure, another classmate¡ªa frantic figure with wide eyes and disheveled hair¡ªcollided with her, slamming into her diaphragm with enough force that, had her stance been any less stable, it would have sent her toppling to the ground. Staggering slightly, she grimaced as a brief stab of discomfort shot through her. It was in that vulnerable instant that Elaine took a swift yet intense sweep of her surroundings: her classmates weren''t faring much better than she was.

    Most were darting around, scrambling to stay just outside the attack range of their respective homunculi. To Elaine''s dismay, she noticed they weren''t using their wands; the thought flickered in her mind that they might be out of Essence. No, it was something far more pressing¡ªthey were simply too close to one another, each student confined within the dangerous radius of a partner¡¯s fight. Taking down these monstrous homunculi required advanced-level spells, ones that would obliterate the threat but also posed a significant risk of collateral damage. The cost of unleashing her own magic, she realized, might mean injuring one of her classmates in the crossfire. She glanced around at the faces of those fighting alongside her. Each of them had the potential for powerful magic, but what would happen if they chose to abandon their compassion and focus solely on passing Professor Knight¡¯s merciless test?

    All of a sudden, a brilliant flash of turquoise energy erupted from the center of the magic circle arena, forcing Elaine to shield her eyes with her forearm instinctively. As the glow subsided, a piercing chill swept through the air, brushing over her skin and causing a flurry of goosebumps to form in its wake. At the heart of the circle stood a girl with billowing auburn hair that danced wildly around her shoulders. Her frigid blue eyes sparkled with intensity as she raised her gleaming wand high above her head.

    "Be still, all of you!" she shouted, her voice ringing strong and authoritative. "Open your eyes! Can''t you see what''s happening here? None of us will pass this assignment if we continue running around recklessly casting our magic! No! Everyone, distance yourselves from one another if you can! Make enough space to confront your homunculus proficiently while affording your neighbors the opportunity to do the same! I understand that you''re frightened; your emotions are aflutter. But if we are to succeed as a class, then you must learn to get a hold of yourselves. Right here, right now! Trust in your magic, and use it to strike back!"

    Adeline Griffith. She was the daughter of the renowned yet austere Keith Griffith, the current general of the Incantian Military, a family name that commanded respect and fear throughout the country. Despite her high noble status as second cule, her fame extended beyond her lineage. She was a celebrated sorcerer, holding the title of three-time reigning champion of the Sorcerer''s Gauntlet, a grueling tournament hosted annually in the Capital. Having such a formidable presence in their midst felt surreal. The weight of her reputation loomed large, but she exuded an air of confidence that inspired those around her. She absolutely embodied the spirit of a champion, the spirit of a soldier.

    Cocking her head to the side, Elaine noticed that the girl had partially immobilized her homunculus. Half of its stitched-together body was encased in a layer of steaming ice that rose behind Adeline. All the creature could manage was to flail its only free arm while flashing its luminescent hearthstone in what appeared to be an expression of rage. Did homunculi even possess the capacity for anger? However, its relentless movements suggested that Adeline had not met the requirements of their exercise, which involved the complete subjugation of their respective homunculus. At least, that was what Professor Knight implied with his rather vague instructions. So, had she really prioritized her own assignment and safety for the sake of her classmates? A quick glance at her background revealed that she hailed from a strict, militaristic family, where values like altruism and honor were instilled from infancy instead of the comfort of maternal milk.

    Nevertheless, nothing Adeline had articulated was intrinsically false, and the ensuing magical mayhem died as each student sorcerer parted ways with one another. The defensive crowd some of them had formed had dispersed, and they each guided their homunculus off into secluded areas. This provided them with more space to operate, yes, but the same could be said for the homunculi themselves. Elaine had plenty of time to see them in action thus far; they were speedy little demons. As for her homunculus, it had long since recovered, having used Adeline''s speech to gather its bearings, and had now entered a furious charge towards her, running in that odd-looking posture where it unnaturally leaned its torso forward.

    A line of sweat rippled down Elaine''s forehead and dripped off the bottom of her chin. This was it. Unless she did something quickly, the homunculus would defeat her. She''d lose. A mere human couldn''t compete with the physical strength of one of these creatures. Shivering, she raised her wand at the homunculus only to have her breath forcefully knocked out of her as the homunculus drove its punch straight inside of her gut. She was met with a spiraling vision of bruised stone, followed by a brief glimpse of the brick walls of the training grounds, and finally, the ceiling up above, the encompassing torches causing her cracked stare to shimmer at the edge. Honestly, Elaine was more so grateful that the blow hadn''t killed her. The pain only stung as she took in a staggered breath. Perhaps they had been enchanted so that their attacks on students would be nullified. That would make the most sense as to¡ª

    You sulmo! Elaine screamed in her mind. I''ll figure out how the magic works later...I have to focus now...

    Groaning, Elaine managed to summon the strength to pull herself into a wobbly crouch. The world around her had devolved into an alien blend of blinding colors that disoriented her senses. Yet she forced her mind to focus, gradually deciphering the shadows and shapes looming in her periphery. As she steadied herself on the floor¡ªclumsily shifting her weight from one unsteady leg to the other¡ªone shadow caught her attention. It was racing toward her with heavy, deliberate stomps: the homunculus.

    Elaine¡¯s brow furrowed with concern. Did she have enough strength left to dodge its impending strike? She instinctively pressed her fingers against the spot on her waist where the pain throbbed like a wildfire, searing and relentless. It didn¡¯t feel like anything was broken, and while her uniform was slick with sweat, there was no warmth of blood to suggest a grave injury. More or less, she was intact. But she knew that if she hesitated any longer, that might change in an instant. The homunculus loomed over her like a colossus made from stitched skin, its long arm raised menacingly over its eyeless face. Clenching her jaw, she steeled herself and waited. Just as the creature swung downwards, she propelled herself sideways, heart hammering in her chest. A gust of wind whipped past her face, powerful enough to disrupt her balance, and in her frantic retreat, she nearly tripped over a stone obtrusion jutting out of the floor. The homunculus tilted its head, momentarily confused, before it bolted after her again, its heavy footfalls thundering like drums.

    Fritz! These things are persistent!

    Rekindling a strategy, Elaine soon found out that her commoner''s wand was still in her hand. Had she seriously not let go of the thing, even after getting flung around like a ragdoll? The homunculus had closed in on her again. This time, it settled for a nasty kick to the side of her waist. It wasn''t as powerful as its previous punch, but it was still enough to make Elaine cry out in pain. She dropped to her knees, surrendering to the agony rattling her bones, tears bubbling in her eyes. She wanted it to stop. She wanted to give up, to put an end to all of this pain and humiliation. Wincing, she ventured to stare up at the homunculus slowly approaching. It knew, more than likely, that this sorry excuse for a duel was over.

    No, the wand, it was still firmly grasped in her hand, a lifeline to the magical world she yearned to master. There was still a glimmer of hope, wasn¡¯t there? With a grunting effort, Elaine tightened her grip, her knuckles white against its surface. She couldn¡¯t allow herself to give up so easily. She was a mage, a dreamer with aspirations of becoming a Professional Sorcerer. She repeated that desire in her mind, a mantra woven from threads of determination. It looped around her thoughts like an eternal melody, insistent and unwavering, drowning out the sinister whispers of doubt. That cold, unforgiving emotion¡ªa bitter chill that gnawed at her insides¡ªonly fueled her resolve; it made her want to fight back with every ounce of magic she possessed. Suddenly, something deep within her resonated, chiming like the bells of the old church tower in Page. For just a moment, Elaine could have sworn she heard a sound¡ªa flicker that danced through the air, like countless pages of an enormous tome billowing from one cover to the next, each turn whispering secrets of forgotten spells and ancient wisdom. The haunting echoes, they ignited a glow deep within her soul.

    Wh...What''s happening...? A new sensation washed over her, filling her with confidence. With strength. The homunculus disjointed its neck in an abnormal manner only a puppet could make, and then sprang from its position. At the same time, Elaine swung her wand at it, unsure what she was doing. It was as if her body was moving on its own. The homunculus took another step, extending its long arm for her with its bony fingers, and Elaine shouted at it, "Light Magic: Icto Lumen!"

    Light surged from the tip of her wand, which she had aimed at the homunculus'' chest, where its artificial heart pulsed faintly. Elaine''s magic awakened with a roar.