According to Abby and Jessica, the Sewers are the starter dungeon. Qozu says the Spiral Knights prefer their dungeon as the starter because the area is smaller. With a smaller dungeon, the dangers are fewer. In the Sewers proper, the dangers are greater, but the riches are not. A starter dungeon is still for beginners. And this area has been combed.

Whatever’s following us is taking its time because it isn’t long before the stench diminishes. We slow to a brisk walk. The odors invading my nose begin changing.

The upper floors are a series of tunnels large enough for garbage trucks to drive through. The roads become bridges over plunging canals filled with questionable sludge. Toxic, noxious fumes waft up from the rivers, making us choke and gasp. Maintenance workers must wear environment suits for a reason. We make do.

We cross the bridges. A thin aluminum railing is all that separates us from the nastiness below. Here and there lies a gap in the walls, the path beyond a concrete, stone, or dirt passage. The Docklands are ancient. Qozu claims the tunnels stretch further than one would think.

Much further than the city limits, and much deeper. The Sewers are the top layer on a series of dungeons pancaked together. If one can find the elevators, one may descend to new levels filled with new dangers. And with new dangers comes the promise of greater rewards.

The furthest reaches of the sewers—it is possible they may hold a few treasures yet unclaimed. But it is not probable. None of us have the time or inclination to go searching. Or gear. Any kind of dungeon crawl down here requires levels, skills, and equipment. We are an unregistered team. Jessica says the Guild allows registered adventurers down here.

I can guess why. Mutated monsters swim the canals. Rats the size of mastiffs crawl out of pipes. Jessica sends a dart into the head of one. I shoot another or whip its face. One might say I’m cruel, but these are vermin.

We turn a corner. The tunnel ends at a locked gate. On the floor is a sealed safe and a couple of bodies. The girls gag at the stench. Judging by the smell they’ve been here some time. Qozu kicks over the body-hugging the safe.

“Don’t do that,” Jessica admonishes him.

“Why not?” he replies. He looks up at her as if surprised. “They’re dead.”

“Yes,” Jessica says as if that explains everything. “So don’t touch them.”

One of the bodies moans. Elise jumps and shrieks, kicking. The person grabs her foot.

“Let go,” she yells, hopping in place. The man lurches forward, pulling her toward him. He starts to rise. Elise tries to kick him. “Get off me, you creep.”

“Sir, are you all right?” Abby says. “Here, let me heal you.”

Wait for a second, I have Analysis as an ability. I scrutinize the man but don’t receive information.

“Hey, get off!” Elise says.

The man brings her foot towards his gaping, toothless mouth. A gray stub of tongue lolls out as if to lick her. I raise my boot and kick the skull with all my might. The impact forces his head back into the wall, where the softened bone cracks. He’s so shocked, he releases her. I level my Proto Gun and fire into his head, once, twice.

“What are you doing?” Jessica’s scratchy, high-pitched voice fills the space.

I twirl my gun. It flashes gold once as an audible click sounds. I reloaded it. Because it is from another world, the mechanism is either magic or alien technology. A weapon in my world would never reload in such a manner. Bullets require a magazine or, if a revolver, moon clips. I fire twice more, ending the zombie’s un-life.

Qozu stabs a body in the head. Around us, the corpses are moving.

“Zombies?” Elise wonders. She doesn’t quite shriek, but she does stand closer to the other girls.

“Abby,” I say. “Don’t you have a turn undead spell?”

“They’re miracles. And no, I’m not high enough level.” She hits a zombie with the butt of her staff, trying to push it back.

I can’t use my whip in a confined space. Therefore, I put it away and draw my Proto Sword. Qozu and I make quick work of the dead.

“Think we can get that grate open?” he asks. “Winch looks sturdy.”

“Yeah…” I say. I pick up a small, leatherbound journal lying on the ground. “But I’d like to see what’s in that safe, first.”

“You’re wasting your time.” The little knight shakes his head. “We need to keep moving.”

“These were adventurers,” Jessica says. She picks up a plastic ID and rubs her thumb over it. “Clay-Ranks.”

I flip through the book. It’s a journal, nothing special.

“Jessica,” I say. I look over my shoulder. “Will the guild pay a bounty for their personal effects?”

“A small one. Most of the money will go toward their loved ones as insurance. At least,” she looks at the half-rotted gear. “That’s where it should go.”

I chew on this. Academic Discourse lets me skim the book in under a minute. It’s a small journal. Even without my skill, the highlights are bland. The most important page is a note folded between the pages. Drawing it out, I scan it.

Michael, you always were late. Even when you said you’d make it to my sister’s wedding, you missed that and showed up drunk off your butt. Well, get this you brainless jerk. I’ve hidden the code to this safe behind your alcohol. If you can stay sober for five minutes, you’ll figure it out.

I look up from the journal and turn in a slow circle. “We’ll take the IDs and things back to the guild. It will be good.”

“But we won’t make any money,” Qozu complains. “Besides, why are you the one giving orders? I’m the Knight. It’s my Order that gave you weapons.”

“You can have your weapons back when we get out of here.” I move to a rickety bookshelf where some empty bottles are collecting dust. I sweep them out of the way, ignoring the way they crash and shatter on the floor.

“Watch it,” Qozu yells. He jumps back as shards of glass scatter.

Three-seven-four. Michael’s friend painted the numbers on the back wall of the shelf with a white brush. How and why he lugged a can of paint down here for that is a mystery I don’t care to solve. Wow. A three-digit combination is a lot of security for one box. I crouch next to the safe and spin the dials on the front. There’s a click from inside. I spin the wheel and heave the iron door up.

“Jackpot.” A spell book, a wand, and a pair of gloves.

“Ooo, wow,” Jessica says. “How are we going to split this?”

“Split it?” I frown. “I found it. It’s mine.”

“Most parties split up over loot,” Jessica says. “We should divide it up. You have a spell, right? You take the wand, I get the spell book, and someone else gets the gloves.”

I touch the gloves. I don’t feel a hum of power, but I don’t have magic detection spells either. They could be enchanted, or they could be normal. I grab the spellbook. The wand looks basic, but I cast my spell without one. “Why should I need a wand?”

“You’re not going to take the wand?” Elise looks surprised.

“I can cast spells without a focus,” I say.

“Yeah, but they fail,” Jessica says. She holds up her own wand. “A basic wand is worth like ten gold. But they’re great because they let you cast spells without a chance of failure. Casting without a wand almost never works.”

“And you three already have spell foci,” I say. “I see the logic in it, but I have a skill that lets me learn spells faster than normal. I’ll read through this book, then you can—wait. How much does a good spellbook cost?”

All three girls avoid my eyes.

“Qozu,” I look at the knight. “How much does a good spellbook cost?”

“A few hundred gold,” he looks up from sharpening his sword. “Give or take. I don’t know much about magic. My species can’t use it. But mages like to talk. A good wand is what she said it is. More, if it has a spell embedded in it. Mages’ spellbooks are repositories of their knowledge. Not lists of spells—they’re notebooks. Details on how to cast. Component lists, important ley lines, that sort of thing.”

“Thanks.” I open the book. There is no table of contents. The cover is plain brown with no adornments. The previous owner’s name is scrawled along the inside cover. Several more names are above it. I flip through the pages. The book is chock full of notes, but most of them are ink. Oh sure, there are a few spells here and there, made with special dyes and runes or something. But most of the pages are an apprentice’s notes. Starter magic, nothing fancy. Still, any new spell resource is welcome.

“What’s in it?” Jessica asks. She and Elise, despite the latter’s obvious unwillingness, crowd my space. The latter girl keeps the book between us and cranes her head, as if afraid to get near me without a barrier between us.

“Beginner-level stuff. You tell me.” I show Jessica the contents. She tries to pluck it out of my hand, but my grip is tight. “I still want the spellbook. You guys can keep the other stuff.”

“But it’s not fair,” Elise complains. “You need a wand. I already have one. Qozu or Abby can use the gloves. I should be the one to have that spellbook.”

“If it wasn’t for me, we never would have found it,” I point out. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll keep the wand and the book. You can read it after I’m done, but it’s still mine.”

“That’s not fair, noob. Even I can see that.” Qozu draws his whetstone down his sword. “Give her the book and keep the wand. Or keep the book and give her the wand. I don’t care. Let’s get out of here.”

I look at them. Qozu is classless. Jessica is a level 2 Mage. Abby and Elise are level 2 Acolytes. Is that a religious class? Whatever. Abby can cast shield, heal, and light. Miracles and spells. Elise has ember, but one must assume she has at least one miracle. And I’m a scholar. I am a non-caster support class. I have magic, sure, but it’s not my focus. If I’m intent on being a mage, the wand is the best option. Being able to cast my spells without them failing all the time would be nice.

I shift my weight. The pressure of the electric bracelet on my ankle is a near-constant reminder of my status as a boxed crook. I am here on borrowed time. Every moment I waste brings me one step closer to returning. I don’t know the Bureau well, but I can assume my reception will not be pleasant. I disobeyed their orders straight out of the gate.

I came here to learn magic. Being able to cast it is nice. If the prices of gear are even somewhat accurate, I can learn the spells, then sell the spellbook. I can buy a basic one or a decent wand. Knowing more spells will empower me to better serve my party. Yet, keeping the wand and giving away the spellbook will empower the party. I get a little power-up, and Jessica gets a nice boost. She can share it with the other two.

The three girls present a Venn diagram of two caster types. I cannot assume all three fit into the middle oval. They mentioned saving for an education at a college that teaches miracles and arcana. Perchance they have the potential for both?

Letting the mage have the spellbook is the best plan, but I don’t know how long I’m going to be with this party. Better to enrich and empower myself—up to a point—and then support my party when I can carry my weight.

“I’ll keep the book,” I say, staring at the first page. “For now. I have a skill that lets me learn things faster. You can have the spellbook after I’ve learned the spells.”

“How long is that going to take?” Jessica asks. She frowns. Her expression is one of annoyance. All three girls glare at me, though Elise peeks out from behind the other two.

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“If they’re low-tier spells, not long.” My nose burns, but I ignore it. The previous owner had terrible handwriting. They wrote the spells using strange ink. The words swim across the page. I tilt the book so the others can read. “Want to see?”

Jessica stares at the page. I stare at the page. It’s like looking at a three-dimensional image, like a diorama going down into the book. I try and make sense of it, willing my Academic Discourse and Quick Study to stack their bonuses. Speed reading plus intuitive learning. Now, it sort of looks like a math equation. No, that’s not quite right. There is an equation in the casting of it, where one uses energy and words plus a focus. But the main thing, the thing that gives shape to the magic itself… is…

[Shape Element].

I see the words appear in my head in a language I don’t recognize. It is a strange hybrid of cuneiform and Sanskrit. My knowledge of classical languages tells me how to interpret pieces of it. I can read cuneiform. Sanskrit is a difficult language. I never mastered it, but I have the basics. None of that matters now because the meaning of the symbols is clear as day. Two words. ‘shape’ and ‘element.’

“I’ve got it,” I say. I pick up the wand and point it at the wall. “[Shape Element].”

I see my green bar drain and feel the exhaustion. In my gut, there is a tugging sensation and I imagine what I want to happen. Part of the wall slides sideways as if scooped by invisible fingers. The spell deactivates on its own. I am down a good chunk of energy. I need coffee. Or a nice nap. I yawn.

“That was fast,” Jessica observes. She rubs her head. “So, it lets you shape the earth. That’s cool.”

“Are you okay?” I ask. She sways a little. Beside her, Elise is rubbing her eyes.

“Learning new spells is hard,” Jessica says. “It takes hours to learn a basic spell. What some people call cantrips. That must be a tier-zero spell. And you learned it in under a minute. Wow.”

I flip through the book to the next spell. Sanskrit and cuneiform. A math equation. An ancient language is interwoven with mathematics like strands in a rope. This spell is a single word, I can tell. Cracking its meaning… it’s a little like moving pieces or armies on a board. Cuneiform is the base, the main army. Sanskrit provides the nuance. Between the two, I can come at the word from different directions. The equation is still muddled, but the word itself is—

[Mirage].

“Bingo.” I point the wand at the floor. “[Mirage].” A tomato shimmers into existence. Not a realistic tomato. Being a mirage, it looks blurry. It might fool a dehydrated person at a distance, but not up close.

“Another one?” Jessica says. She rubs her eyes. Elise looks away. On my other side, Qozu looks up from sharpening his weapon.

I turn the pages. The next spell is unusual. It uses words more recent, more… new. The equation is the same. But the language used to cast it is weird. It resembles the original, but the meaning is not as ancient. Did the ancients know of—

“[Chocolate Dart].”

An oblong lump of something brown appears in front of my wand. It rockets forward, exploding against the wall. The drain hits me the next moment. I take a seat.

“A chocolate spell?” Elise says. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“It isn’t,” Jessica says. She stares at the brown flakes covering the wall. “There are four elements: water, earth, air, and fire. Some people include lightning, but that’s it. Chocolate isn’t on the list.”

“Must be a rare spellbook,” I say. I saw the colored text in my head. I will never forget that spell. It’s written in a dialect of Aramaic, still ancient but not as old as the previous two spells. Those other two… I know the words and I can cast them. But somehow, I’m able to understand chocolate. A blinking white exclamation point appears in the corner of my vision. I focus on it. Italicized white text with a black background appears.

Congratulations, you have qualified for the [Mage] class. You have unlocked new Prowess.

“I qualified for the mage class.” I blink twice to dismiss the notification. I flip through the rest of the spellbook.

“Three spells in five minutes? That’s cool,” Jessica says. She glances down. “Oh, that’s [Fireball]! I’ve been wanting to learn that.”

“And this one?” I flip to the last spell in the book.

“Um,” Jessica squints. Elise looks over her shoulder. “[Summon Skeleton]. Or [Raise Dead]. I dunno, it’s a basic ‘raise undead’ spell.”

“Here you go.” I close the book and hand it to her.

“You don’t want to learn [Fireball]?” she looks confused. “It’s tier three. It deals fire damage and explodes. It’s the most popular spell. Necromancy is the most popular field.”

“Nope. I’m good, thanks.” I hold out the spellbook. Shape element, mirage, and chocolate dart. A good start. Jessica takes the book with both hands. She holds it with reverence, caressing the cover. I suppose to a mage, it’s—well, she did say it was worth hundreds of gold. Having an unusual elemental spell in it makes it even more valuable. The smart thing to do is keep it and sell it. I could use the money for all sorts of things. Buy a house. Buy some good gear. Buy a ticket on a ship to another world and never return.

“Thank you,” Jessica tells me, breaking my reverie. She hugs the book to her chest. “This is going to help a lot. I may get a level-up for learning these. Thank you.”

All right, don’t make it awkward. Table salt has trouble standing out in an oversaturated dish. Spices are singular and pack a punch. I stick the wand in my pocket.

“Anyone want the gloves?” I hold them up.

“I’ll take them,” Abby says. I pass them over.

“All right. Let’s gather up all their IDs and anything usable. Daggers, knives, or equipment.”

“It’ll be cheaper to buy our own when we get back,” Elise says. “Couldn’t we borrow some?”

“Returning to the equipment and IDs to the guild will increase our reputation or give us one. Other adventurers will see us in a positive light. It’ll make finding a job with a party easier.”

The others stare at me.

“What?”

“You don’t find it strange to think about them like that?” Elise’s mouth hangs open.

“No?” I say, a little confused. “Think about them like what?”

What is she talking about? I shrug and play it off. Must be another strange social interaction I don’t understand. Whatever. I gather up five or six plastic IDS and stuff them in my pockets. Qozu digs up a few knives and assorted gear. The girls dig up nothing. Instead, they stand off to the side in a little group, huddled together over the book. I shrug.

“Hey, noob.”

I look up.

“Help me with this.” Qozu indicates a wheel on the wall he can’t reach. The placement suggests it raises the grate blocking us.

“My name isn’t ‘noob.’ It’s Lawrence.” I stand and stretch. “Qozu.”

“Until you get registered, you’re meat,” he says. “We’ve sat here long enough. That thing is still out there. Whatever killed these idiots might still be nearby.”

“What?” Elise squeaks. “I thought we were safe.”

I open my mouth, but Qozu beats me to it.

“We’re in a dungeon,” he looks at her, eyes angling as if focused. “We’re never safe. In a mana-charged environment like this one, zombies rise fast. Those guys died not too long ago. So will we if we don’t get moving.”

I move to the wheel and heave. As much as he’s getting on my nerves, he has a point. It’s a big dungeon. There are bound to be several boss-sized monsters running around. The wheel resists turning. It isn’t rusted; I’m weak.

“Did you hear that?” Elise says. I can hear the panic in her voice. “Abby, use your light thing.”

“I’m running out of mana,” Abby complains. She throws up another ball of light. “Come on, n—Lawrence, hurry up.”

“I’m trying.” I huff and strain. “I’m not built for this. I’m a scholar, not a soldier.” Metal grinds on metal, hurting my ears. The wheel turns.

“I heard it too,” Abby says. “Does anyone have Danger Sense?”

The three girls form a line with their weapons up. They press themselves back, almost against the wall next to me.

“Hurry up, noob.”

“Mister Doctor.”

“Working on it,” I gasp. I slam my shoulder into it. Ow. Now my shoulder hurts. I press the non-hurting part of my shoulder into the metal and heave.

The grate rises a few inches. The metal begins turning. I shove with all my strength.

“[Ember]!”

“[Stone Dart]!”

I hear something wet and tune it out. The wheel turns. I push and pull, somehow making it move despite the gook crusted around the screw. The grate rises a foot.

“Gate’s open,” I gasp. I keep turning. Qozu drops to his belly and crawls under, not caring about the stains seeping into his armor. “Guys…”

I hear swearing. I chance a look over my shoulder. A heady combination of rotting meat and rancid toilet fills my nose. Something pale sort of oozes toward us down the tunnel. The sides look a little like fog. The spells hit it and bounce off. The basic fire spell turns part of the thing black but otherwise does nothing.

Two big arm-like appendages rise from the mass. They throw themselves forward, slamming into the earth. Heaving, they pull the rest of the mass after it.

“Time to go,” I shout. “Muscles weakening.”

I push the wheel some more. Elise is the first to break, which is a shame since she had the fire spell. She ducks under the grate. Abby is next, waddling.

“Jessica,” I say.

“What is that thing?” she gags. “[Stone Dart].” Her spell shatters against the beast. Swearing, she turns and runs under the grate.

The monster pulls itself forward. I relax my grip, ready to move. But the wheel turns and the grate lowers. Crap crap crap. I grab the wheel and hold it.

“Noob, you have to move,” Qozu yells. He draws his Proto Gun and fires in one-shot bursts, giving the weapon time to recharge. The method I used was to shoot twice, spin to reload, and fire twice more. A part of my brain recognizes that his rate of fire is faster. Regardless, his weapon is so weak the green globs do no visible damage.

The beast pulls itself forward.

“Noob,” Qozu bellows.

An idea half-forms. If I do it, consequences. If I don’t, bigger consequences. I jam the wand between my teeth, careful not to place my tongue where my fingers have touched. I point to the other end where the screw is and mutter the spell.

“[Sshha’e Ele’hent].” I will the metal to change, twist, and contort. This section of the tunnel is old. The walls are concrete, sure, but parts of them are brick. There’s a good chance this will work. If I’m right.

“Lawrence!”

I release the wheel. It doesn’t move. I duck and dive into the hole. Wind rushes as something heavy smashes the wall. I hit the ground and scrabble forward. The creature smashes the wall, crushing the winch mechanism. The door screeches. Metal moves against rusted metal, grating our ears. The door descends like a one-ton guillotine. The creature hurls its limb forward with a mighty crash, but too late. The grate is in place. We are safe.

“Are you alright?” Jessica cries.

“Uh-huh.” I spit out my wand. I wasn’t quite able to keep my tongue from flicking it as I cast, but it could be worse. I could be dead. I almost died right now. Crushed under the weight of a great sewer beast. The exclamation point reappears, but I ignore it.

“That was good thinking with the spell, noob.” Qozu swaps his gun for his sword. “Can we try moving?”

“We almost died right now,” Elise yells, exasperated. “Give us a minute.”

“No, he’s right,” I say. I struggle to stand. The effects of casting so many spells in such a short amount of time make me feel like I’ve run a mile. I need to sit. Despite that, I force myself up. “We need… to find a manhole. That’s the quickest way out. Find a manhole, and we’re free.”

“How does that help?” Elise asks. “Aren’t they heavy?”

“Three hundred pounds,” I say. I clutch my side. “On average. Most of them are cast iron. They’re made that heavy so people can’t steal and sell them for scrap. Or—go exploring where they shouldn’t.”

“Then how does that help us?”

“Noobs,” Qozu snaps.

“Right. Let’s keep moving.” I wave my hand at him. “You take point. Don’t get too far ahead. Remember, we’re a team.”

“We are not a team.” The Spiral Knight shakes his head. “And you are not my leader.”

I take a step and sway.

“Are you all right?” Jessica asks.

“I’m fine,” I lie. I’m getting a little tired of hearing that. I mean, on one hand, I like that a girl is showing concern. But she keeps asking and it’s obvious I’m not, and we’re in a bad place, and we need to escape. “Let’s go.”

-

I lurch down the hall. I don’t care that my shoes are walking on questionable material. I don’t care that my clothes reek of it. I should get a spell for this. Resistance to Rank or something. There must be a spell for that. If the system thinks chocolate is an element, why not waste? Speaking of elements, Jessica takes a breath in her constant chattering.

“How did you do that?” she asks. “The spell, I mean. You cast shape element, right? How did you keep the wheel from turning? It’s not earth, so it wouldn’t have worked. Or did it work because metal is like earth?”

Is metal a kind of earth? Interesting hypothesis. If so, then the system would have names for metal-mage-based classes and stuff. Metal manipulation is one of the most versatile tools in an anime hero’s arsenal. I make a mental note to research metal manipulation spells at a later date.

“Uh, mister Lawrence? Hello? Professor?”

“Hmm, what? Oh. Uh. No. It didn’t.” I try to come up with an eloquent way to articulate my thoughts. The exclamation point is still blinking. And I still ignore it. “Um, it’s kind of a thought-process, you know? Shape Element. It lets you shape an element as you want.

“But what we consider elements and what are elements are two different things. Like the four elements in fiction—air, water, earth, fire—those aren’t elements. Air and earth are mixtures. Water is a compound. Fire is a chemical reaction. You could say that a fire spell lets you control fire, and you’d be right. But the way I see it, Shape Element doesn’t do that. It lets you shape elements that are on the periodic table.

“In other words, I moved the iron in the metal with the spell. The wheel was ancient. Therefore, it had more iron in it than a modern wheel. Not a lot, but enough that changing the shape would warp the metal and make it stuck inside the screw. The grate’s weight was enough to drag it down, but it worked.”

My audience processes this.

“You manipulated an element that isn’t an element?” Elise clarifies. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

There is a spell in tabletops called poison spray. I don’t know much about poison, but chlorine gas causes burning pain and blisters. The liquid form is toxic but doesn’t occur outside of a controlled environment. The gaseous form is acidic more than toxic. Heck, a cloud of chlorine isn’t lethal under normal circumstances, given that ‘air’ is a mixture of other things. But if the concentration is high enough, and the space is small enough, like in a dungeon, as would be the case with a spell…

Silicon has the appearance and texture of glass. Silicon blown from volcanos is as fine as sand. If the particles are fine enough, they can be inhaled and shred one’s lungs. In large piles, they resemble glossy black sand-like fragments of glass. But instead of being soft to walk on, like a beach pulverized by the waves, silicon is sharp and dangerous. A silicon elemental, a giant sand creature capable of shredding anything it touches…

Almost everything uses iron or carbon. One could fold a man’s sword over. Move pipes like snakes. By ‘shaping’ oxygen, one could suck all the oxygen out of a room. Shape Element does not specify what element is being controlled.

I can infer from the spell’s function that I cannot create an element ex nihlo. Yet, stone dart and ember are created ex nihlo. Even my chocolate dart is ex nihlo. How is it one can shape but not create something? How is it that one can create but not shape? My chocolate darts are like sausages. But the wording of the spell suggests an arrowhead. Can I alter the dart’s shape as I cast it? If so, how, and how much? This is giving me a headache.

For now, I will content myself with the mystery of [Shape Element]. The spell allows me to shape existing elements. It does not specify dirt, water, air, or fire. A traditional mage like Jessica would infer that to mean she could open a doorway in a dirt wall or create a fire whip. My education is a gift, but it is also a curse. Magic appears to function on belief. I cannot bring myself to believe that I can control ‘the four elements’ using Shape Element. None of them are elements.

Congratulations. Your use of the [Shape Element] spell has unlocked a new field of Arcana to study: Unusual Elements. Your Unusual Elements Prowess is now Neophyte. Your Unusual Elements: Iron, Chocolate. Your Transmutation Prowess has increased to Apprentice. You qualify for [Mage] Level 2. Do you wish to take the class?

I dismiss the notification. No, I do not wish to take the class. Regarding Shape Element, I am limited to whatever is in front of me. I cannot create elements out of thin air. It’s a limitation, but it makes sense. And I have no doubt there is a limit to how much of a given element I can manipulate, and how large of an area. It is a tier-one spell, not a tier-three like fireball. Its power is questionable, but it seems it is most useful as a tool for learning.