It was Damarion who'd finished the arcon's sentence. Despite his interruption he still sounded bored out of his mind.

Our affinities diverged? How was that even possible? I thought that was the whole point of our little bond here. Share the soul, the pain, the... magic, I guess?

"I have a student, similar to your case. His Forpal commands air and light magic, the kid fire and darkness." Damarion went on. Then he scoffed. "Well, they're a special bunch in general."

He had a student? I thought you were a student yourself? Oh well.

"So... what does that mean exactly?" I asked, tilting my head for the millionth time this session. And I meant it. This situation went against everything the old man had told me. If there were instances like this, he should have known that.

"It means you wont be able to use any of the spelltypes your Nekro does. While that may complicate some things, it could also give you an interesting advantage." Themion explained.

I do like advantages. Yes. More of those, please!

"What... complications?" Rheka asked. It made me chuckle a bit. She'd imitated my sarcastic undertone there at the end. Slowly but surely I felt like we were in the middle of a job interview. Don't ask me for what job, though.

Themion folded his arms, considering her question. “The complication lies in your ability to defend one another. Normally, Forpal and Nekro can cover each other's weaknesses because they share affinities. Your companion, however, won’t even be able to form barriers that block the same spells as you. You can cast fire barriers, but he won’t be able to support you in that way. Of course your journey of learning will also be vastly different.”

Then he paused, letting the info seep in. Hopefully she actually got all of that. Oh, who was I kidding. The kid was smarter than one might think.

Journey of learning though. Pah! Somewhere I'd heard something similar before. Old man, is it you? I did start to wonder what the relation between those two old geezers might be. Maybe they were classmates in school. Wait. Is school even a thing here? I bloody hope not! I looked around. I don't think we've reached public education just yet.

“But.” he continued, a smile forming again. “This divergence also offers a unique opportunity. With different affinities, you both can cover a wider range of elements. Rheka’s fire and light could be counterbalanced by your potential in darkness and perhaps other elements. While most pairs focus on mastering shared strengths, you’ll have the advantage of versatility.”

I liked the sound of that. Like a jack of all trades! Well, maybe not exactly like that. I did want to master a thing or two. Being just decent in everything sort of sucked.

Another question formed in my head. I was genuinely surprised how I'd never asked it before. "How... do we find out what elements I can manipulate? What determines.... affinity?

"That is an excellent question!" Themion said. He was clearly pleased with my curiosity. Which was good, because I had about a hundred more questions for him. “Affinity, in most cases, is passed down from the parents. It runs through the bloodlines, from one generation to the next. Fire, water, air... whatever one's parents were capable of, there’s a high chance those same affinities will manifest in their offspring.”

Most interesting. It was genetics, essentially. Though the math didn't quite add up. Ursus didn't know any magic, or at least I hadn't ever seen him use any. I was pretty certain he despised anything even remotely related to the arcane. Probably had his dad to thank for that. And Visla... well, I couldn't tell. She never talked about it, nor had I ever witnessed her casting any spells around the house. Maybe they had the abilities but didn't quite practice them? You did technically need a tutor to help you with that. So maybe that was just how this world worked. Like with education, magic training might be a privilege reserved for those who could afford it. That did explain the lack of magic in public. There was also the possibility of recessive genes, of course. The old man definitely had the affinity for fire, light and energy. Otherwise he couldn't have taught us. Or rather, Rheka. Yet I could recall him talking about being compromised in the arcane or something. Whatever that meant. The more I thought about it, the more questions began forming in my head. Urgh.

Rheka tilted her head, frowning. “But... I’ve never seen my parents do any magic.”

In the end great minds always think alike.

Themion raised an eyebrow but then smiled. “Ah, well, it doesn’t always show up openly. Sometimes, people don’t actively use their magic, or it’s buried within their lineage. It’s possible that your parents had abilities they never tapped into. Unless...? No, we shouldn't assume that." He shook his head before continuing. "Affinity can be passed down even if it’s not visible. ”

So much for that.

The arcon paused for another moment, glancing at me. “As for how to find your affinities... that requires practice. Sometimes, it’s trial and error. Other times, they reveal themselves in moments of high stress or emotion - like your use of smoke during the battle at Felsvar.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

So that’s how it was. You didn’t exactly get handed a list of elements and spells when you popped into the world. You had to work for it, feel it out. Great. More work.

Then Themion turned around to face Damarion. "You had a student like that? I never knew." He sounded genuinely surprised with just a hint of sadness.

Damarion scoffed. "Still have. And thats 'cause you're busy vagabondin' through the world like some arcane tourist." He muttered, crossing his arms.

Themion chuckled. “Perhaps. Well. Enough talk for now. Let’s move on to something more practical again, shall we?” He turned back to me, eyes glinting. “Argius, since you’ve already demonstrated some control over the darkness, I think it’s time you try something a little more advanced.”

I raised an eyebrow. Not so sure what he meant by “advanced.” Themion motioned for Damarion to step forward, and after a moment of obvious reluctance, he did.

“Looks like I'm up. We’re going to focus on a darkness barrier.” Damarion said with a sigh, as unenthusiastic as it could get. “I’ll guide you through it, and with enough concentration, even you should be able to attune to that spell.”

Even I. My new tutor was putting a lot faith in me, it seemed. Ever heard of the Pygmalion effect, buddy?

Regardless. Before me was another hour of sitting in awkward positions while trying to pull magic from nowhere. Such great fun.

Damarion raised a hand, conjuring a barrier in front of him. It was a dark purple, almost translucent, flickering like shadows in the wind, a stark contrast to the orange fire barriers we had seen earlier. It made this weird, deep sound. Like the most ominous low-frequency rumble you could come up with. He made the casting look effortless.

“This is Noxveil. A novice-tier darkness barrier.” Damarion explained, his tone as flat as ever. “It absorbs or deflects darkness-based spells, so on and so forth. You already know this. Focus on attuning yourself to the shadows, and the barrier will form.” He whipped his arm down, cutting off the spell immediately. Then he gave me a quick once-over. "Probably."

Alright then.

I nodded, trying to settle into a position that didn’t feel ridiculous. My claws stretched out, and I focused on replicating the same shadows Damarion had shown. This was his thing, apparently, so I figured he knew what he was talking about. Even if he was being a dick about it.

A good hour later, after a lot of failed attempts and muttered curses, a faint shimmer finally began to form around my claws. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. We were getting somewhere. Eventually, after some frustration, I managed to manifest a weak barrier. If you could even call it that. It flickered, just like my signature smoke from before.

“Hmph. Not bad. I only almost fell asleep.” Damarion said, not exactly glowing with praise but acknowledging my effort. “Now let’s see how it holds up.”

He motioned to Themion, who'd been praciticing with Rheka in the meantime. He pulled out a small wooden box and handed it over. Inside were two simple silver rings.

“These are replicas of an ancient Vannder Frumef.” Themion explained, nodding toward the rings. "These particular rings are called the ‘Rings of Elhaiz.’ It's not quite the real thing, but close enough. When both wearers have them on, they can cast spells at each other without causing direct harm. It is perfect for any kind of spelltraining."

Rheka’s eyes lit up. “We get to use those?”

Damarion nodded, slipping the second ring onto her hand. “You’ll wear one, and your Forpal here will need to cast a barrier to protect you. But remember - he’s the one at risk, not you.”

I swallowed hard. So I was the only who could get hurt here? Great.

Damarion cracked his knuckles, a faint purple glow forming around his hands. “Don’t worry, I won’t hit too hard.” He rolled his shoulders, eyes narrowing.

Themion stepped back, giving us space. “Argius, focus on maintaining that barrier. Rheka, stay on the offensive. Work together, cover each other’s weaknesses.”

Rheka gave me a quick grin. “Don’t worry, Argi. I’ll make sure to hit him hard enough for both of us!”

“Let’s hope so...” I muttered, bracing myself as Damarion began to cast.

The air crackled with energy as he raised his hand. I reached out with my claws, looking like a cat going for a deep forward stretch. Simply put, I looked like an idiot.

It took me a bit but I forced the barrier to form in front of her. For a moment it flickered, struggling, but it held. A few seconds later a bolt of dark energy shot toward Rheka, cutting through the air. The bolt collided with my excuse of a barrier, dispersing in a shimmer of dark smoke.

“That was weak.” Damarion said, unimpressed. “You’ll need to do better than that if you don't want to get hurt.”

Damarion’s eyes narrowed, and for the first time, he looked like he was actually going to try. “Alright, let’s see if you can handle this.” he muttered, low and flat. He raised his hand, and the air around him got heavier, like someone had just dimmed the damn sun. Shadows started pulling in around his fingers, circling like smoke, coiling tighter and tighter.

It wasn’t just forming - it was building. This dark, pulsing ball of energy wasn’t your standard-issue magic trick. No, this thing looked like it could tear through a wall if it felt like it. The shadows thickened, almost sucking the light out of the courtyard, flickering like it was absorbing everything around it.

The ball gave off this low, menacing hum, like the deep rumble you feel before a storm.

I stretched my claws out again, trying to conjure up a more reinforced barrier. The dark veil flashed into place, but I could already tell it wasn’t going to be enough. He pulled his arm back, and the sphere throbbed with power. Then, without a word, Damarion launched it straight at us. The dark ball slammed into it with a crack, the force rattling my bones. For a second, it looked like it might hold, but nope - not happening. The barrier shattered like bloody glass, and the impact sent me flying backward.

I crashed into Rheka, and we both tumbled to the ground, gasping for air. My chest felt like I’d been kicked by a horse. And I felt it on the double.

Rheka, though? She bounced back up like it was nothing, hands already lighting up. Back came that familiar sensation. I began to glow, but not in the same way as just seconds ago. Here goes.

“Hey! No fair!” she shouted, her fingers snapping forward. A small Ember-firebolt shot out of her hands. She was aiming straight for his face.

But, of course, he dodged it without even blinking, stepping aside like it was nothing. “Is that all you’ve got, girl?” he said.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Themion’s voice cut through the air, snapping us all back to reality. The tension evaporated, and the shadows around Damarion faded like they’d never been there. Themion stepped forward, his usual calm smile back in place. “You’ve both made good progress today."

Rheka crossed her arms, still glaring at Damarion, who only shrugged in response. I sat up, still catching my breath.

“Tomorrow.” Themion continued. “We’ll push things further. But for now, rest. You've earned it.”

I definitely needed that.

Good progress he said. Sure. If by "good progress" you meant getting launched across the courtyard like a ragdoll and having my one job - protect Rheka - fail spectacularly. Yeah, great progress.

But hey, at least I didn’t die.

Small victories, right?