Enveloped in the soft, velvety blanket of night, Evander's dome house stood out like a solitary jewel under the star-lit canvas of the cosmos. Though the natural world had succumbed to sleep, the quiet hum of activity resonated from within the house, a testament to its inhabitant's nocturnal endeavors.

The living room, usually a place of relaxation and casual conversations, had been transformed into a makeshift study. The room's usual ambiance was disrupted by the soft glow of numerous lamps strategically positioned around a large mahogany table, casting a golden glow across the chaotic scene.

Papers blanketed the table, strewn around with a sense of urgency that only came with an insatiable hunger for knowledge. Some pages were laid flat, bearing intricate diagrams and symbols that danced in the wavering light, while others were curled at the edges, filled with dense text that seemed to mirror the rich complexity of the universe itself. Amidst this creative chaos, a single parchment lay before Evander, his hand steadily guiding an elegantly crafted quill across its surface, every stroke an ode to the arcane language he was rapidly assimilating.

Surrounding this epicenter of frenzied learning, countless scrolls and books sat scattered, their worn-out pages littered with symbols and diagrams that seemed to pulsate under the warm light, adding an almost surreal quality to the room. Amid the disarray, a rhythm emerged - a symphony of learning. From the rustle of pages to the scratch of the quill, each element played its part in Evander's late-night orchestra.

Every few moments, his gaze would dart back and forth between the reference texts and his own parchment, his mind working to decipher and reproduce the mystical glyphs that represented the language of magic. Despite the visible evidence of his efforts scattered across the table, there was a distinct sense of organization to his process, a method to the madness.

Perhaps it's my enhanced intelligence at work, he mused, a slight curve touching his lips. His mind, operating at 2.2 times the standard human capacity, seemed to be devouring the complexities of the arcane language, storing and analyzing data with a efficiency that would have seemed impossible a few short days ago.

Evander's gaze was focused intently on the parchment before him. The dim room around him seemed to fall away, his entire world narrowing down to the intricate inscription etched on the surface of the paper. It was a simple one, designed to bring forth light, but to him, it was the genesis of an uncharted journey.

His mind cycled back to the afternoon's meditation lesson, recalling the techniques he had learned to channel his energy. It felt strange, uncharted territory for him. The concept of magic, once an abstract idea, was now right at his fingertips, waiting to be tapped into. He glanced down at his hand, resting just above the parchment. A slight tremble coursing through it, the tangible evidence of the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Easy, Evander, he thought, inhaling deeply to steady his nerves.

Slowly, he began the meditative technique, focusing his thoughts inwards. The chaos of the world around him seemed to dull as he drew upon his internal energy reserves. His heart pounded against his chest in anticipation, each thud a resonant echo in the silence of the room.

His finger hovered just above the inscription, his eyes transfixed on the paper beneath him. His breath hitched in his throat as he willed his energy to flow, like a silent whisper of power coursing from his being into the intricate pattern on the page.

And then, it happened. A spark, a flash, a brilliant radiance bursting forth from the inscription as it greedily consumed the energy. The room was bathed in a soft, warm light, emanating from the glowing glyphs. The shadows cast by the lamps danced away, replaced by the gentle luminescence of his successful spell.

A euphoric wave swept over him, his heart pounding with exhilaration. He'd done it. His first successful spell, a beacon of light conjured from a mere scratch on parchment. He could barely contain the wide grin that spread across his face, his eyes glittering with the mirrored light of his creation.

But in the midst of his elation, his focus wavered. His concentration broke for just a split second, but that was enough. Like a wave breaking over him, a sudden rush of nausea swept across his senses. It was a sensation he was familiar with, one he’d experienced many times akin to a reaction from an overpowering magical potion.

However, as disorienting as the feeling was, Evander was prepared. He had weathered storms fiercer than this. Gathering his strength, he withstood the wave, breathing deeply to steady himself, as the once vibrant light from the inscription slowly dimmed, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the faint echoes of his triumph.

Evander sat in the dim room, the lingering nausea finally dissipating, replaced by a firm resolve. His gaze returned to the parchment before him, the etched inscription faint in the room's meager light, a mocking reminder of his falter. Yet, it also served as a challenge, a tantalizing prospect of triumph just within his reach. He felt a familiar thrill rise within him. Okay, let's do this again, he thought, bolstering his resolve.

He took a deep breath, focusing his energy once more. The room was silent save for the rhythmic beat of his heart, the sound echoing in the quiet. Evander repeated the steps he'd taken earlier, his finger tracing the magical glyphs with a newfound determination. This time, he did not hesitate, did not falter. He poured his energy into the inscription, his senses focused solely on the parchment before him.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

And, just like before, the magic sparked to life. Only this time, it did not flicker out after a fleeting moment of glory. Instead, it lingered, the parchment radiating a brilliant luminescence that filled the room, casting the shadows into oblivion. The once dim room was now aglow, bathed in the soft, steady radiance of his magic.

He kept his focus, his energy still feeding the spell. He could feel the drain, the magical exertion tugging on his stamina, but he persevered. He maintained his concentration, the light remaining steady under his command. It felt exhilarating, empowering.

With a satisfied grin, he finally withdrew his finger, the spell sustaining its glow without his direct influence. The parchment lay before him, a beacon of light that defied the darkness of the night. The triumph swelled within him, a prideful beat in harmony with his pulsating heart. He had succeeded. He'd taken his first solid step into the world of magic.

With his achievement lighting up the room, Evander stood from the table, his body weary but his spirits high. His footsteps were light as he made his way to the couch, the parchment's radiance guiding his path. As he curled up on the couch, a sense of accomplishment washing over him, his eyelids grew heavy. Sleep was tugging at the edges of his consciousness, a welcoming respite from the day's efforts.

--

A rhythmic tapping jarred Evander from the soft tendrils of sleep, the lingering vestiges of dreams curling away into the morning light. His eyes blinked open, meeting the afternoon sun filtering through the translucent dome of his abode. He raised a hand to his forehead, an incredulous grin blooming on his lips. Seems like I overslept.

Stretching languidly, he shuffled his way towards the unyielding rhythm of knocks on the door, his muscles feeling adequately replenished from yesterday's magical exertions. As he swung the door open, his eyes met the azure gaze of Arckit. Her hair framed her sculpted face, and a confident grin graced her lips.

"Good afternoon, sleepy," she announced, effortlessly shouldering her way past him into the house. The audaciousness of her action left Evander blinking in bewilderment.

He recovered quickly, shaking his head in amusement. "How did you manage to bypass the security police and get into the safe area?" he inquired.

She merely held up her wrist, the band gleaming. "Your permission still holds until you decide otherwise," she retorted with a sly grin, clearly reveling in his baffled expression.

Arckit studied Evander, taking in his rumpled appearance and the sun that marked midday. "Been lazing around, have we?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement.

Evander felt a smile creep onto his lips. "Seems so," he replied nonchalantly, an air of casualness to his admission. "Last night was quite eventful. Managed to cast my first light spell."

Her eyes widened slightly, the joviality in her demeanor replaced by an impressed acknowledgement. "Really?" she exclaimed, a genuine smile gracing her face. "Well done, Evander."

Then her gaze softened, turning thoughtful. "Magic can be quite draining, especially for beginners," she explained, a note of caution in her voice. "You may feel fatigued more often. Just ensure you're taking proper rest, okay?"

Evander nodded, appreciating her concern. This world of magic was still new to him, and guidance was always welcome. "Sure thing, Arckit. Thanks for the advice." His gaze drifted towards the still-lit parchment on his table, a tangible testament of his first steps into magic.

Arckit leaned against the kitchen island, her eyes twinkling with a secret. "I do have some good news for you, Evander." Her voice was smoky and mysterious, like the first few embers of a bonfire.

Evander raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Really? And what might that be?" His curiosity was piqued, stoked by her cryptic tone.

Her smile widened, and she reached into her bag. From the depths of the leather satchel, her hand emerged clutching a small item - a subtle amulet that looked quite ordinary, yet radiated an intangible charm. Accompanying the amulet, a large hoodie in muted tones.

"I believe I've figured out a way for you to navigate the city without stirring a frenzy," she announced, setting the items on the kitchen table.

Evander frowned, glancing from the hoodie to the amulet and then back at Arckit. Was she serious? He had expected a magical disguise, a charm perhaps, something less… mundane.

Seeing his confusion, Arckit explained further. "The amulet has been charmed to counteract the city's wards - they won't react to your male presence. As for the hoodie..." she chuckled, gesturing to it, "...it's to keep your physique under wraps."

Evander couldn't help rolling his eyes at that, despite the serious nature of their conversation. "I already own a hoodie, you know," he responded, his tone somewhat defensive. "And I was hoping for, I don’t know, maybe a disguise spell?"

Arckit simply shook her head, a smirk playing on her lips. "No magic disguises, I'm afraid. Magic can be detected, you know. We wouldn’t want to draw unnecessary attention."

Evander had to admit that made sense. "And this would mean no more swimming across the bay to bypass the wards?" he asked, studying the amulet with a new sense of appreciation.

She nodded. "Precisely. You'll be able to pass through the city like any other resident… mostly I guess."

His gaze lingered on Arckit, a sense of admiration and affection simmering beneath his steely eyes. She was no ordinary woman – her beauty transcended the physical realm in his opinion.

"It looks like we'll be going hunting tonight," he said, his voice a low hum that filled the quiet room.

Her eyes widened, a spark of alarm flickering within their depths. "Hunting?" She echoed, her tone filled with trepidation. "You mean... out there? In the wilderness?"

His smile never wavered, but his gaze softened, brimming with sincerity. This is going to be a challenge, he thought, I'll need to reassure her that it's safe with me.

"Don't worry," he said, the tenderness in his voice palpable. He reached out, gently gripping her arm. "You'll be safe with me. I won't let anything happen to you."

Arckit stared at him, her mouth opening and closing in a futile attempt to articulate her fears. Her eyes darted away from his, looking anywhere but at him. A battle raged within her, one of fear and trust.

He watched her internal struggle, understanding her fear. The wilderness teemed with monstrous beings.

Evander moved closer to Arckit, his grip on her arm tightening just slightly. "Trust me, Arckit," he said, his voice now barely above a whisper. "I've got your back."

Finally, she nodded, her eyes meeting his in a silent acquiescence. She didn't say a word, but her nod was enough for him.