The Weight of Expectations

After his recovery, Aethyr stepped out of the infirmary, his mind still replaying the battle against Master Asphyr. Every movement, every spell, every moment of vulnerability—it all stayed with him. Though he had lost, he had learned more in that fight than he could have imagined. The gaps in his training were clear, but they only fueled his determination to grow stronger.

As he made his way through the halls of the college, whispers followed him.

"That's him—the one who fought Master Asphyr," one student muttered.

"They say he nearly pushed Asphyr to use all his spells!" another remarked.

Aethyr ignored the comments, focusing on his next steps. His shattered novice staff was a reminder of the distance between him and the masters. He needed to forge his own path, not just as a mage, but as something more. His time with the Phalanx had taught him that brute strength alone wouldn’t suffice. He had to bridge the gap between magic and combat—fuse them into something unique.

As he headed toward the training grounds, Penelo appeared beside him, her light steps barely audible.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked gently. "You should be resting, not wandering around like this."

"I'm fine," Aethyr replied, his voice distant. "I just need... to improve my staff."

Penelo glanced at him with concern. "There’s a room full of magical tools in the college, you know. You're different from the others here, Aethyr. Your magic and your skills—they're intertwined in a way that few understand. You can’t rely on yourself alone."

"I know," Aethyr said quietly but firmly. "But if I want to survive—if I want to make my Grandfather proud—I need to master more than just magic. I need to learn combat, strategy, everything."

Penelo sighed but nodded. "If you’re that determined, there’s someone who might be able to help."

Aethyr raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Master Sarphin," she whispered, as if speaking his name was forbidden. "He’s the second-strongest mage in the college. But his methods… they say he delves into magic that few dare touch. He doesn’t take on students easily. You’ll have to prove yourself."

Aethyr’s curiosity flared. "Where can I find him?"

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Penelo hesitated before pointing toward the northern tower. "He spends most of his time in the Arcane Archives. But be careful. Sarphin’s methods are... intense."

Aethyr glanced at the distant tower, his gaze sharp. But for now, there was something more pressing. He needed better equipment.

As a master blacksmith, he took it upon himself to forge a weapon suited to his unique style. Over the course of two weeks, Aethyr crafted a collapsible spear-staff, forged from damascus steel with intricate magicka stones embedded along its shaft. Tempered and reinforced, the spear-staff was built for both close combat and spellcasting—a reflection of his dual talents. During that time, he trained relentlessly, honing his mana concentration and expanding his mana pool.

Remy, ever arrogant, continued to underestimate those around him, flaunting his talents in every class. They shared the same course in Destruction Magic, and while Remy easily wielded fire spells, Aethyr’s elemental affinity was far more complex. His magic was neutral—not dominated by one element but capable of using many. It was a gift, though many saw it as a disadvantage.

Unlike Remy, whose affinity for fire came naturally, Aethyr relied on his understanding of alchemy to enhance his magic. He delved into the principles of the fire tetrahedron—oxygen, heat, fuel, and chemical reactions—learning to manipulate these elements to make his fire spells more potent.

As the weeks passed, Aethyr balanced his magical studies with physical training, pushing his body to its limits with a regimen akin to the Phalanx warriors. His muscles grew stronger, his endurance greater. Though he made many friends in the college with his humble and polite demeanor, Penelo remained his closest companion. The two often spent time together, exploring the college and its surroundings, sharing quiet conversations about their ambitions and fears.

When the holidays arrived, the students poured out of the college and into the town. Aethyr and Penelo strolled through the bustling market streets, the smell of roasted meats and fresh bread filling the air.

"I can’t believe how much this place changes during the holidays," Penelo remarked, her twin-tailed blonde hair bouncing as she pointed to a brightly decorated stall. "Look at that! They’re selling enchanted trinkets."

Aethyr smiled slightly. "You like things like that?"

"Who doesn’t?" Penelo grinned, pulling him toward a stall lined with shimmering baubles. "Besides, it’s good to have a little fun between all the training. You should try to enjoy yourself, Aethyr."

As they wandered through the market, sampling street food and marveling at the variety of goods, a familiar sight caught Aethyr’s eye. Tucked away in a shadowed alley, an old, weathered sign hung above a small shop: Alteration School: Master the Art of Transformation.

Aethyr froze. The last time he had passed this shop, it had intrigued him, filling him with questions about the possibilities of transformation magic. The memory of the mysterious shopkeeper, Alious, resurfaced. Alious had mentioned that the potential of alteration was boundless—if one had the will to learn.

"You okay?" Penelo asked, noticing his sudden pause.

Aethyr’s gaze remained fixed on the shop. His heart raced as the possibilities of alteration magic swirled in his mind. Could this be the next step in his journey? Or was it a path too dangerous to tread?

He stood at the entrance, his hand hovering over the door handle. The weight of decision pressed down on him. Should he enter and pursue the unknown art of transformation? Or would this only lead him further away from his true path?