“Now where did I put that elemental reconstituter… ah, here it is.”

A navy-haired man was rifling through a pile of chests, all filled with an assortment of strange multi-coloured objects of different shapes and sizes. He was dressed in long dark-blue robes trimmed with gold, and a long magic staff was lying next to a messy bench haphazardly covered in pieces of parchment and complicated diagrams. Empty inkwells and stray pens were scattered across it, with the occasional bronze or glass object placed on top. The room he was in was dark and the curtains were drawn, only a small lamp on the bench providing light.

When he found the object he was looking for, he pulled it out of the chest and held it up, inspecting it through round gold-framed glasses. He observed the item with vibrant eyes that changed colour every few seconds and then placed it on the bench after clearing some space. Then he placed a palm on top of the globe-like object, and slowly the clear object began to gain a gaseous red and light-blue hue. The red hue flickered like fire, while the blue hue began to gain specks that appeared like ice crystals.

The man frowned when he saw it happen. “I can copy the ice-fire combination well, so why can’t I get the earth-fire ratio right?” he muttered.

He dragged a stool over, sat down, and continued to test several other elemental combinations for around an hour. Then he flinched as he heard a loud knocking on the room’s door.

“Young master! It’s time to come out!” came the sound of a loud authoritative female voice.

He eyed the door for a few seconds, contemplating whether he could pretend he wasn’t in there or not. He slowly returned to his work and winced when the door knocking increased in intensity.

“Young master Marellen, if you don’t come out right now, I’m telling Levin who created the skin-dye potion,” she threatened.

He sighed and stood up from the bench. He walked over to the door and opened it, feeling mildly exasperated. “Madame Berna, it’s not even dinner time yet. What is there that I even have to do?”

‘Madame Berna’, their headmaid, and a stern-looking woman in her mid-30s, narrowed her eyes at him. “Did I not warn you to be prepared to welcome back the Baron and his entourage only one day ago?”

“The Baron….” His eyes widened in realisation. “Ah. They’re back?”

She rubbed her temples. “Yes. And why haven’t you opened the curtains of your study?” she said, gesturing to them. “It’s the middle of the day. There’s no need for it to be so dark.”

“Hm?” He glanced back at his room. “Oh.” He turned back to her. “I forgot.”

She glared at him, before letting out a long sigh and then marching off. “Well, you need to go greet them. Leave your magic tricks for later.”

He grudgingly followed after her, not really wishing to have to go through such needless formalities. Although…. He was glad Efratel was back. That meant his cousin was probably safe in the meantime.

“Anyway, it looks like you’ll finally be leaving the estate for an extended period of time,” she told him as she navigated the corridors. “I’m glad you can now do something with your life, instead of staying here for the next five years as well as the past five.”

He stared at her. “Excuse me?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, well, with how much you lock yourself in your room, it’s obvious you wouldn’t have heard anything yet. Young master Efratel can explain things for you.” And she continued walking at a brisk pace.

His eyes widened as he sped up to catch her. “Wait, what’s this about leaving? And what has this got to do with Efratel?” He started feeling anxious when she only smiled. “Hey, I don’t want to leave! I’m fine here! And where would I be going?!”

She pushed open a door as he was feeling increasingly on edge. “I need an explanation, please! Where in the realms would I be-”

He paused when he saw the Baron, Efratel and his father in the room. They turned to him as they heard the door open. Then he really began panicking as he saw the smirks on his father and Efratel’s face.

“Uh… I’d say welcome back but…. I’m not sure I’m going to like what I’m about to hear,” he said, wishing he was back in his room.

He felt his skin go cold when even the Baron began to smile. “Come take a seat before we begin this discussion,” the man said, gesturing to an armchair.

He gingerly walked up to it and sat down, sending Efratel wide-eyed glances for help. Efratel looked away with a broad grin. He watched cautiously as the Baron gestured to Efratel, and Efratel withdrew a thick letter, then took out the contents. His cousin passed Marellen one of the documents, and with a nod from the Baron, he warily unfolded it.

As soon as he saw the first line, he closed it. “No,” he stated.

His father grinned. “Yes.”

Marellen shook his head firmly. “No. Never. Not going.”

“I’m afraid Marellen, that you have no choice,” Efratel said with just a hint of schadenfreude. “Read it through to the end.”

Feeling very bitter, he opened it and forced himself to read it fully.

Congratulations Recipient Marellen Vadel on your Grade 1 Academic sponsorship to All-Aeon Athenaeum.

This letter is to inform you that you have been accepted as an Academic by All-Aeon Athenaeum through the sponsorship program. The sponsorship program allows promising individuals to be supported by outside forces during their time at the Athenaeum’s facilities. This will entail full access to the Senior Academy’s resources, the opportunity for transfer to the Aeonic origin plane, and authorization to explore the unique outer planes owned by the Athenaeum as an expeditionary, possibly obtaining ancient artifacts of immense power and intrigue. These are some of the options available to you as a Grade 1 Academic….

The letter went on to explain what he would actually do at the Academy. His expression distorted with every word, and it wasn’t until he saw the last line that he properly paid close attention to what it said.

We welcome you to All-Aeon Athenaeum and express our greetings to your sponsor, the Head of the Aurelian Commission.

His thoughts froze to a halt for a few minutes. He slowly looked up. “This joke isn’t funny,” he stated nervously.

The Baron shook his head. “Do you think we could ever joke about this? An opportunity like this is far, far beyond anything we would ever hope to come to one of us. As for why you have been offered this opportunity….” He glanced at Efratel. “I think I’ll leave it to my son to explain later.”

“But first I would like to congratulate my cousin on finally getting a job!” Efratel said cheerfully, clapping his hands. “I never thought I’d see the day come.”

“No! I’m not going!” Marellen exclaimed with alarm. “This is ridiculous! I rejected all offers to stay for a reason! And how could the Head of the Commission wish to sponsor me in the first place, I’m not even a successor of some kind!”

“Marellen.” He flinched when his father spoke. The battlemage smirked. “You’re going.”

“….I can’t be forced to accept,” Marellen stubbornly replied. Then he inwardly winced as the other navy-haired man raised an eyebrow and cracked his knuckles. But threat of violence or not, he didn’t want to go. “Just tell them I’m not good enough to go there.”

“If you’re going to lie, make it more believable,” Efratel responded, crossing his arms. “After all, you had Archmage Merkenia asking you to be his student for a month straight.”

…….and the reality of Marellen's situation came crashing down as he realised what Efratel was trying to say. He glanced down at the letter, grimacing. “I don’t want to be caught in the middle of all those attempts to drag me to their Orders again. You know I hate politics.”

“And I think you’re forgetting just who has decided to sponsor you,” the Baron spoke up. “As a sponsored academic, any High-mage, Grand-mage or Archmage who wishes to take you as their student must have the permission of both you and your sponsor. Not many, even among the Duchies, have the power to pressure the soon-to-be Honorary Count of the Commission.”

That... made it slightly better, but not by much. Especially as he still didn’t know why he was being sponsored.

Efratel grinned when he saw Marellen's expression. “And Marellen, the Commission Head has promised you access to whatever resources you need, no matter the cost. How does an unlimited budget sound to you?”

He, his father, and even the Baron paused to register what Efratel just said. “…..unlimited?” the Baron responded.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“The aide of the Faction Head told me so,” Efratel said with a nod. “Marellen has access to as many resources as he wants from the Founder’s vault.”

“If Vincent Evisenhardt told you, then it must be true,” the Baron replied with surprise. He turned to Marellen. “You don’t have any reason not to go now.”

“I- but, my experiments-”

“The Faction Head hasn’t specified what department you must enter,” Efratel interrupted with a smirk. “It is entirely up to your contributions whether you can gain the spells needed to further your research or not.”

Marellen wracked his brain for more excuses. “I’ll be unwillingly kept there for several years or more-”

“I remember Efratel telling me that the end date of the sponsorship is dependent on your own wishes.” His father grinned. “Now, as for whether you’re willing to offend the Commission Head by leaving quickly just because you don’t want to deal with politics…..”

All hope was lost. He couldn’t do that. He glared down at the letter in his hands. “When would I even go?”

“I don’t believe we’ve discussed that yet,” the Baron said, turning to Efratel. “Is there a date he must be there by?”

“Ah, well the transferal of me from general manager to the private manager of Marellen is effective as soon as he goes to the Senior Academy,” Efratel said, thinking. “Which would mean whenever we say he must go, because he’ll try to procrastinate for as long as possible.”

There was silence, all of them contemplating Efratel’s answer. Marellen began to feel very worried as the three of them slowly turned to look at him.

“How quickly do you think you could transfer my responsibilities over to someone else?” Efratel asked the Baron with a slowly widening smirk.

“I believe it would only take 24 hours at most if we pushed,” the Baron replied with an amused smile. He looked to the battlemage on his right. “Would you prefer to spend some more time with your son before he leaves?”

“Oh no, I could never prevent my son from taking advantage of such an amazing opportunity,” Silas said with a wicked grin, obviously finding entertainment in Marellen’s increasing stress levels. “Stefanie likewise would want me to ensure he can use this privilege given to him as soon as possible. It’s time our son left the house.”

Marellen felt chills go down his spine when he saw them exchange glances. The Baron gave him the biggest smile he had ever seen on the man in his entire life.

“Well then, Marellen, guess where you’re going tomorrow!”

…

He glared at the blonde-haired man sitting on the end of his bed. “I hate you.”

Efratel shrugged casually. “This has nothing to do with me. Do you really think I could ever go up to the Head of the Aurelian Commission and ask for a sponsorship?”

Marellen frowned. “Well, no, but….” He narrowed his eyes when he saw the smirk on his cousin’s face. “I still hate you.”

“Now, now, isn’t this exactly what we needed?” Efratel replied with a smile. He reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. “No nasty Archmages coming after us both. Only nasty Archmages coming after you to abduct you to their pocket dimensions as their student.”

“No!” he groaned, putting his hands on his head. “That is the exact opposite of what I want! I want to be left alone so I can use magic I actually like, not be forced to change my affinities to use some school’s special runic model!”

“Well, the Faction Head has decided to reject all requests of those High, Grand and Archmages, so you’re safe to continue using all-element magic,” Efratel remarked, pulling out an object from the envelope. “Run away from them all you want and you’ll be fine.”

Marellen walked up to the bed and sat down on it. “So, you met the Faction Head? Did you know them?”

Efratel looked at him and smiled. “Yes, you’ll never guess who it was, it was actually-” He paused, a strange expression on his face.

Marellen began to feel suspicious. “What is it?”

He felt distinctly uncomfortable when he saw the wide grin slowly spread across Efratel’s face. “You know….” he said, looking very amused by something. “I don’t think I’ll tell you.”

“Won’t tell me?” Marellen repeated, incredulous.

“Yes, I don’t think I’ll tell you. I’ll leave it as a surprise for when you finally visit them,” Efratel said cheerily, looking incredibly happy for someone who was supposed to be going to Tartarus the week before. “This is revenge for leaving me to deal with it all alone as I went to Headquarters.”

“But that was because of the Archmage!” Marellen exclaimed disbelievingly. “I couldn’t go!”

Efratel just shrugged, leaving Marellen feeling rather unhappy. “Wouldn’t my sponsor dislike the fact their recipient has no idea who they are?” he asked sourly.

His cousin chuckled. “No, I have a strong hunch they would very much approve of what I’m doing. Let’s just say… I’m passing the favour on?” Then he stopped with a thoughtful look on his face and glanced at Marellen. “In fact, it seems you’ve ended up getting your wish in a strange twist of fate.”

Marellen frowned slightly. “What wish?”

His cousin shook his head wryly and reached into the envelope again. “No, I won’t reveal anything. You can’t get me to answer that one.” Then he raised an eyebrow. “And Marellen, the Faction Head doesn’t want to keep you stuck in the Academy or All-Aeon Athenaeum for the rest of the time. They want me to organise expeditions for you.”

Marellen blinked. “Expeditions? You mean to the Old Era planes owned by Athenaeum?”

Efratel nodded. “Yes. You won’t have to be among Archmages all the time. I’ve also been told to contact Roa again so she can be sponsored too. If she accepts, I can get her a position as an expeditionary rather than an Athenaeum researcher.”

“She did say she prefers developing her spells through experience rather than research,” Marellen mused. He looked down at the object Efratel was holding in his palm. “But what’s that?”

He became curious when Efratel looked a bit awkward. “Because the sponsorship was so important for us, I had no choice but to accept the Faction Head’s gift for you. It’s a Rare skill book.”

Marellen stared, his eyes widening. “But that’s worth almost as much as your father’s title-”

“-Of Baron, yes.” Efratel sighed. “But the Faction Head said you won’t get the skill if you don’t accept the sponsorship, so they seem to believe this skill will be valuable to you somehow. I don’t know what it is yet.”

He crossed his arms as he looked at the small white token Efratel placed on the bed between them. “…. I suppose we better check then,” Marellen said with a sigh. He activated his General Inspection skill to bring up the skill sheet.

[Secondary Skill: Elemental Probability Calculation Mechanism, Final Version | Type: Elemental/Reactive]

Rarity: Rare

Desc: A skill created to reveal the cause-and-effect relationship between mana and matter. This skill grants the User a passive precognitive awareness of the world around them, borne from the fundamental understanding of the behaviour of mana instilled by this skill in the User. Created by Saufren Lestial.

Ability:

Adaptive Geomancy Pseudo-Array – Runic Model Attachment, All-Element

* Gives the User an All-Element Runic Model Attachment that passively senses and detects the causation and effectual pathways of mana in the User’s general vicinity, informing them of past and potential changes. Requires Mage Class.

* Grants the User the advanced-level spell: Element-Based Prediction.

[ ]

“….oh, wow. Now I see why they said this would tempt you,” Efratel remarked after a moment. “This is perfect for- wait, what’s wrong?”

Marellen had gone pale as he read and re-read the last sentence of the description. He grabbed his cousin by the shoulders and shook him. “Efratel! Who is the Faction Head?!” he hissed.

Efratel frowned as he looked at him. “Not someone who should cause this reaction. Why are you so scared?”

“Don’t you see who created this skill?! It’s Saufren Lestial’s!” Marellen replied anxiously.

Efratel just stared at him. “Marellen, I don’t understand. I have no clue who that is.”

Marellen stared back at his cousin as he registered his words, and then took a deep breath to recompose himself. He let go of Efratel with a sigh. “Efratel, Saufren Lestial is one of the Five Founders of the All-Aeon Athenaeum.”

Efratel glanced between him and the token and then gained a troubled expression. “That…. means this skill book is worth much, much more than a Baron title,” he replied with a grimace. “A skill from the Athenaeum’s original inheritance….”

Marellen shook his head. “No, that’s not the issue. Those types of skills are actually quite common because of the other Founder’s successors.” He jabbed a finger at the skill book. “Saufren Lestial had no successor. He never took on a student.”

Efratel went silent as he considered the implications of Marellen’s statement. “Then…. how many skills does the Athenaeum have of Saufren Lestial’s…?” he spoke up apprehensively.

“There should be none,” Marellen stated curtly. “This skill book is priceless.”

They both gazed down at the skill book token, lying there innocently on the bed sheets. They stared at it for a few minutes, and then Efratel buried his head in his hands. “This should’ve been impossible for them to get their hands on! And can we even return such a valuable skill book in the first place?!”

“To where?” Marellen replied, feeling defeated. “Return it to the Faction Head and offend them, or try to give it to All-Aeon Athenaeum…. and bring down the Commission’s wrath on us when the Athenaeum starts pressuring the Commission for answers.”

“I’m not sure they would be offended per se….” Efratel said awkwardly. “But this is…. well, something so valuable means they’re really planning on sponsoring you. You do realise this is exactly what you’ve needed, right?”

“…yeah,” Marellen replied, feeling uncomfortable. “Seriously, Efratel, who is the Faction Head? How did they know I’d want this type of skill?”

Efratel had a strange look on his face but shook his head. “They’re not someone to be that wary of. Let’s just say this gift is because of the circumstances surrounding…. the reason why they know of us.”

Marellen scowled but sighed as he looked at the skill again. “I guess we continue discussing this then. It’s an adaptive skill that will grant me passive awareness of the possible outcomes of spells. As it’s only Rare, it would only have the strength to apply to mana. I wouldn’t be able to predict events.”

“I’ve never heard of a Runic Model Attachment before,” Efratel commented, looking at the skill sheet. “Does this mean whatever runic model you have, you can always use this skill?”

Marellen held his chin as he considered it. “Possibly. I’ve never heard of a Runic Model Attachment either. But Saufren Lestial is the Founder who created and popularised the runic model method of magic, becoming the first true mage. I’m sure the creator of modern magecraft was able to design other unique runic constructs as well.”

They went silent again as they considered what to do. Efratel glanced at him. “…I think you should accept the skill. If Saufren Lestial had no successor, then nobody should recognise it. And I know if the Faction Head gave you this, then they don’t plan on telling anyone it exists.”

Marellen grimaced and then sighed. “I suppose any questions about where this skill came from will have to be saved for the Faction Head when we meet in person.” He reached out to pick up the skill book token, and the illusory book icon appeared, hovering above it. Then he pressed down on the token, and it disintegrated into white particles.

[Gained Secondary Skill: Elemental Probability Calculation Mechanism, Final Version]

He blinked as he instantly noticed a change. His self-awareness of his runic model, slowly rotating within his mana pool, indicated that the model had gained a smaller construct that linked to his runic model, the runes assembling and reassembling themselves every second. He could sense the likelihood of each mana particle within his room changing to another element, entering another magical device, becoming matter, and other possibilities. He could also detect the chain reactions that would be caused by the possibilities and knew if he chose certain actions, an outcome he wanted would be more likely to occur.

Efratel watched him with curiosity. “It seems you can feel something?”

“Uh… yeah….” Marellen looked at his hand as he summoned a small ball of fire mana to his palm. “It’s not like I can tell what is actually going to happen in the next few seconds. But I can tell what the mana around us is going to do in the next few seconds, or what it already has done. And if I learn to align my spells to the outcome I want based on this information….”

Efratel gave him a wry smile. “Should I leave you alone for a while so you can test this out?” He smirked. “After all, tomorrow you’ll be going to the Senior Academy. You won’t have enough time for any experiments with what will happen.”

Marellen glared at his cousin. “Thank you for the reminder that I’ve been forcefully and unwillingly pushed into tertiary education a second time. Yes, leave, because I don’t want to see your face anymore.”

The blonde-haired man only laughed as he left his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Marellen watched him go, feeling rather unhappy again. But as he looked down at the mana on his palm interacting with the elements around it, he had a feeling that maybe he wouldn’t dislike going to the Athenaeum as much as he thought he might.

He’d take his last dying breath before he’d admit that to anybody though.

…

“Hey, kid! Come out from your little hideout and have a talk with your dad!”

Marellen stuck his head out of the window of the small outdoor building he used for his more… destructive experiments. He looked at the navy-haired battlemage waving cheerfully at him with mild annoyance, unhappy he had been interrupted yet again. “There’s a door.”

“And if I was capable of getting past all your mess to reach you inside that place, I’d be wondering what was wrong with you,” his father said as he walked forward to stand in front of him. “What’d you think about this whole academic business, kid?”

Marellen stared at the man, and then slumped against the windowsill, throwing his arms over the edge. “What blighted Sage decided to pick on me today?”

“As it’s the Athenaeum, you might want to blame the Astrologers,” Silas said with a smirk. “But it won’t be as bad as you think. You still like magic, after all. Not many mages get the chance to buy whatever elixirs or magical equipment they wish to use for their research.” He raised an eyebrow. “And with your spending habits….”

Marellen looked away. “It’s for experimentation.”

His father chuckled and shook his head. “If that’s what you call your bad sense of budgeting.” He smiled and put a hand on Marellen’s shoulder. “Seems like your mum and I won’t see you for some time. Learn to enjoy your time there, Marellen.”

“I could always be back sooner than you expect,” the mage replied with a slight frown, trying to untangle one end of his glasses from his hair.

“Maybe, but this time is different,” the battlemage said, his expression unusually serious, and the tone of his voice making Marellen look up. “I’m….. thinking of returning to the military.”

“…. Didn’t you say you quit for good?” Marellen replied, feeling confused and slightly apprehensive by his father’s sudden change in attitude.

Silas sighed. “Yes, well, things change. Your mother’s still an instructing warrior at Glory Pantheon, and you’re leaving the Vadel estate for some time. I don’t exactly have much to do right now.”

He just gazed silently at his father, unsure why he was acting this way. It wasn’t a very good excuse. “But-”

“Anyway, son!” the battlemage suddenly exclaimed, a broad grin on his face. “You better start packing! With how disorganised you are, it might be past midnight before you are ready!”

“If I don’t pack then maybe I can avoid going for a bit longer…” Marellen muttered sourly.

Silas laughed and patted him on the shoulder again. “None of that. You’re now a sponsored mage of the Aurelian Commission Head. You can’t be seen looking so grumpy about this.” He stepped away from the window and waved as he began walking away. “Who knows, maybe I’ll have finally accepted that promotion to Colonel while you’re gone!”

Marellen’s eyes flew wide open and he began to panic as suspicions about the reason why his father was doing this arose. “Wait, Dad, do you know about-”

“And Marellen,” his father said as he turned around, a stern expression on his face. Marellen understood that he was definitely aware of what he and Efratel were facing. “Next time, I want to know if my child is in danger of being killed by an Archmage.”

After that, the battlemage left, leaving Marellen feeling very guilty and a bit lost.

Then his face screwed up as he realised what his father said.

“What does he mean, next time?!”