Jackson didn't sleep much that night. It wasn't because of the strange dreams he'd been having for the past month like usual; instead, he simply couldn't take his mind off what had occurred the previous day. The swirling, vivid colours danced in his mind for most of the night, resulting in him only getting a few hours of sleep. That morning he'd been woken up by Ulric, as was their normal routine, before hastily putting on his uniform. It was a new feeling for him—to be excited to go to school. It didn't matter that he would be suffering through another day of swordsmanship training; just that he could see all the mages again, see their magic again. The first breath of fresh morning air, the sights around Baypost on his route to Optima—all of it felt new, like it was his first time experiencing any of it.

Optima was just as magnificent as it had been the previous day, standing tall above the rest of Baypost like it was overseeing the town. Upon entering through the main gates, he headed straight for his classroom. The sooner I get this over with, the better, he thought to himself. Opening the door to the room revealed that, despite being fairly early, some people were already seated and waiting for the class to begin. One of them was the blue-haired elf he'd met the day prior, Elquire Baron, who spotted him the instant he stepped foot in the room and waved him over with a polite smile. It was almost uncanny how put-together he was—his hair silky smooth and free of knots, his uniform tailored perfectly to his frame without a single visible wrinkle, just as it had been the previous day. Books were stacked perfectly on top of each other alongside a set of pens, lined up one next to the other, totally symmetrical down to the tiniest measurement. When it came to Elquire's desk, the phrase "a place for everything and everything in its place" came to mind.

"Hello, Mr. Jackson. Are you feeling well after yesterday's incident?"

"Better than ever, and I'm not just saying that. Thanks, by the way—the nurse told me you were the one to take me to the infirmary."

"Please, there is no need for gratitude, Mr. Jackson. I am thankful for your swift recovery," Elquire said, relief evident in his voice. "What exactly do you mean when you say you are truly 'better than ever'?"

Jackson went to speak, but a thought flashed across his mind. He didn't know much about magic since he'd never really had the opportunity to learn about it, but even with his limited knowledge, he knew it was incredibly rare for people to suddenly develop magic, especially for someone in their late teens like himself. Hell, he wasn't even convinced it was magic. For all he knew, he was just as likely to have become possessed, or simply gone crazy. Whatever the case, he didn't want to go running his mouth about suddenly having magic until he was completely sure, since if it turned out he didn't, he was almost certain he'd become a laughingstock. It was unusual for him to be so cautious, but there was something special about this—he just knew it.

"Ah, you know. Just, uh, had a good sleep in the nurse's office. Haven't had one in a while, so I'm full of energy, ya know?"

"Oh, I see. I am very happy for you."

"Thanks."

Jackson and Elquire continued chatting for the better part of ten minutes before Mr. Landy entered the classroom. He walked with light steps, almost like he was gliding on air toward his podium before turning his attention to the class.

"Yesterday, I started you all off with an easy introductory lesson on some basic theory surrounding swordsmanship techniques alongside how and when to use them." Despite talking at an average volume, he spoke with bravado that carried his words to the whole room effortlessly. "Today will be harsher. It doesn't matter how many techniques you have memorized if you cannot apply them in a fight, which brings us to today's session. We will be applying one of the basic stances of the Hercerian swordsmanship I went over the other day, that being the 'plow.' First things first: pair up, then we will head to the training ground."

Once Mr. Landy had finished speaking, everyone split off with their respective partners, with Jackson and Elquire deciding to train with one another and heading to the training ground. It wasn't as impressive as the main school, but it was impressive nonetheless. It was circular, not dissimilar from a large colosseum made of a neat mixture of polished basalt and granite with a hard soil floor. Jackson hadn't been paying much attention yesterday, and anything he had learned was completely overshadowed in his memory by the events that occurred later on. He turned to Elquire and began whispering to him, trying his best to ensure Mr. Landy wouldn't overhear. "Elquire, hey. So, I think I may have, potentially, forgotten a thing or two from yesterday."

"Oh? How much do you remember? I am sure Mr. Landy would not mind reminding you of a detail you may have let slip your mind."

"Well, if I told you I remember maybe... 10% of that lesson, do you reckon he'd still help me out?"

Elquire stared back at Jackson, an expression of slight shock spreading across his face. "Ah. No. I fear that may be a slight bit much for him to catch you up on before we begin this exercise. No matter—I can assist. I have been told my memory is decent; I'm sure I can aid you. Where shall I begin?"

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"Just the basics would be great. What's Hercerian swordsmanship, and how do I do that stance he was talking about?"

"It is an older style of swordsmanship taught to the military in Herceryn—not too difficult to learn, most likely why Mr. Landy has chosen it for this exercise. The stance he mentioned, the plow, looks something like this." Elquire shifted his feet so that they were slightly further than shoulder-width apart, putting most of his weight on his back foot and turning his body slightly to the right. He held the grip around his hip, the blade angled between Jackson and the ceiling. Jackson tried to mimic the stance, eventually settling on a half-decent imitation of what Elquire had demonstrated. It wasn't perfect, or even that good, but it was enough for now. "This stance is used for delivering a quick, strong thrust. Like so." As he spoke, he thrust his longsword at Jackson, the tip of the blade tapping his leather tunic, coming to a stop immediately upon contact before Jackson could even process what had happened.

In his shock, he hadn't noticed Mr. Landy approaching them, congratulating Elquire on his impeccable stance. Jackson had to agree—he barely knew the first thing about swordsmanship, but even he recognized Elquire's skill. He found himself wondering how the two of them even ended up studying at the same level in the first place.

"Listen up," Mr. Landy ordered in a voice slightly louder than before. "You all seem capable of at least an attempt at the plow stance. Next is defence against it. Mr. Baron, would you please attempt to strike me?"

Elquire got into position and swiftly attempted a thrust at Mr. Landy. For just the briefest of moments, Jackson felt a surge in the air and then an eruption of energy originating from Mr. Landy as he tapped Elquire's attack to the side with the blade of his sword in a motion so fast it barely registered, causing the thrust to miss completely. In complete awe, Jackson looked around to see if anyone else witnessed what he had. People were impressed, sure, but not nearly to the degree they should have been. It was as if they hadn't picked up on what truly happened at that moment. The only other person who seemed to grasp even part of what had occurred was Elquire, who looked shocked at just how easily his thrust had been deflected.

"The plow is a good stance for delivering a quick and powerful thrust," Mr. Landy announced, breaking the silence, "but a thrust can be parried, as I just demonstrated. Doing so can leave your enemy open for a counter, but we'll cover that at a later date."

With that, everyone split back up into their groups. Jackson didn't try parrying too much, instead focusing more on trying to get his plow stance to a standard where people would actually need to defend against it in the first place. Elquire was more than happy to practice his parry—not that he needed to, from Jackson's point of view. Time went by quicker than Jackson had expected, and before he knew it, the bell had rung, signalling the end of the session and the start of the break. Everyone headed off to the dining hall, Elquire giving a curt nod as he left. Jackson stayed behind. He was curious about what Mr. Landy had done when he parried Elquire's attack and he couldn't leave until he knew more.

"Excuse me, Mr. Landy?"

"Yes?"

"I'm just curious but... are you a mage?"

Mr. Landy raised his brow and hooded eyelids, his dull green eyes widening slightly, revealing a gleam of curiosity. "What makes you say that?"

"It's just, when you demonstrated the defence earlier, I felt something. I'm not sure what, but it was like the air was crackling with energy and nobody else could feel it. To be honest, I know next to nothing about swordsmanship, so I could be wrong, but it seemed like magic." Jackson looked intently at Mr. Landy, awaiting his response in a silence that felt unending.

"Are you a mage?" Mr. Landy parroted.

"I know it sounds like a dumb question but—"

"No. I'm asking you. Are you a mage?"

"I'm sorry?"

Mr. Landy spoke firmly, stressing each word. "Are. You. A. Mage?"

"Um, no. I can't use any magic."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Jackson said, slightly annoyed at the line of questioning. "Well, almost sure. Like 90%."

"Why? What makes you that small amount of uncertain?"

"Well..." Jackson weighed his options. It was one thing to go talking about potentially awakening magic and seeming like a madman, but it was another when his teacher was practically demanding he confess it. There was something else as well, a strange yet vaguely familiar feeling inside of him urging him to confess at this moment to this person. "Yesterday, during the break, something strange happened. It was like my entire body was burning from the inside. I got a really bad headache and this pain in my chest and blacked out pretty soon after. But just before I did, I saw colours around all the mages in the dining hall. I thought I was just seeing things, but later that day I ran into someone and I got a similar feeling to when you did your parry. I tried to get the colours to show up again, and they did. I'm not sure what's going on, but I don't think it's smart to completely rule out magic."

Mr. Landy stood still, a finger and thumb pressed against his chin, stroking his short ducktail beard. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again. "This only started yesterday, correct? Never before?"

"Yeah."

"Whilst rare, it's not unheard of for mages to develop their abilities later in life. Whether that's the case for you is yet to be determined. However, there is a definite possibility. You were correct in your suggestion—I am a mage. Your assertion of that fact implies you have a high degree of magical sensitivity. Most mages have a heightened sense of magic; it's a requirement for using magic, after all. That sense tends to manifest in a vague feeling when around magic, but for you, it could have manifested in an additional way—that being the colours you saw."

"So, I'm not crazy? There is an actual chance I have magic?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I think it would be wise for us to visit the board of appraisal as soon as possible. Now, if doable."

"The board of what now?"

"The board of appraisal. A collection of Optima staff. They are in charge of examining what type of mage a student is, as well as their current capabilities. In your case, they can confirm if you're even a mage in the first place. We can worry about everything else after that. Now, are you ready?"

Jackson paused for a second. He'd wished for magic as long as he could remember, and this was his one chance at it. "Yeah."