The next morning in Spell-Casting, Professor Merton began by listing out several dozen words she claimed were common phrases used to cast spells. I noticed that the terms looked and sounded similar to Old Ferren, though noticeably different. After a minute, my curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to ask directly.

I raised my hand, and Professor Merton nodded at me.

“Professor, I noticed that these words seem similar to our old language. Is that deliberate or just a coincidence?”

A slight smirk came onto her face before she replied, “A good eye apprentice. The Founders and their first apprentices are responsible for most of the words of power used for spells, and they designed these words after their language, altered slightly. If you are taking Enchanting, you will note similarities to Old Ferren there as well, for similar reasons. They created the written language of magic, with runes corresponding to specific words or meanings.”

I still felt a bit of confusion, which she noted before gesturing for me to continue.

“If that is the case, then why do these words or runes have any meaning? I am still confused how they can carry power in and of themselves, if the Founders based them on our language.”

Professor Merton nodded and held up one hand, a pristine sphere of violet-hued energy forming instantly above her palm.

“Mana is an energy ultimately controlled through will and intention. Your mind is what determines the effects in the end, but your mind is not perfect. To keep focused on your intentions, we use spoken incantations and physical gestures. By learning to associate specific words and gestures with an effect, you naturally stay focused. These steps are important because if your concentration fails, the spell will lose potency at a minimum. At worst, it may backfire and injure or kill the caster.”

At the end of her speech, the sphere’s edges became irregular and erratic, before ultimately disappearing with a soft pop.

“So if the caster had the focus, could they forgo one or both entirely?” I asked after a few seconds, prodding a little further for information.

She stared at me, and I suspected she was not particularly thrilled about this line of questioning. “In theory, yes, but in practice, it is far more difficult than simply concentrating as hard as possible. Most simply lack the control and willpower to direct mana at will, or see the time and effort of gestures and chants as a worthy tradeoff. Typically only mages particularly well trained for combat bother to develop the skill. For instance, Professor Barlow, who teaches Dueling, has developed her talent to near-perfection to hide what spell she is using and disorient enemies.”

I nodded slowly and decided to cut off my line of questioning before I annoyed this Professor any more. It seemed to be a field of study she felt was far beyond a first-year apprentice, and I agreed to a point.

If anything, using words and phrases sounded like limitations rather than aids. In my visions, it seemed I had been able to bypass them using my sword and armor somehow. Maybe through some form of enchantment? Possibly, but that still seemed like too much of a limitation. I did not want to have to rely upon equipment to cast my magic.

Regardless, I dutifully copied down the many words and gestures Professor Merton detailed over the rest of the class, knowing, at a minimum, it could prove useful in a duel. I suspected most other students would use the same dozen or so spells, and if I could learn how they worked, I may be able to predict their attacks and respond accordingly.

Heading to Mana Theory, I sat down next to Sophia, who’s mouth upturned in the faintest hint of a smile before returning her focus to the front of the class. Soon, Professor Clemons arrived with his usual genial attitude.

“Good morning, class. Today, we will be starting with practical training on cultivation. Specifically, the techniques used to expand your cores and strengthen your mana. To start, all of you, please stand up and follow me.”

With some hesitation, we all stood and followed Professor Clemons out of the class and next door to another, far more open room. He walked forward before turning to face all of us with a smile.

“Now then, cultivation to increase your power uses a technique that goes by several names. Cycling is the most common term and the one I prefer, though some older works may use other names, such as gathering or circulating. The technique I will be teaching you is a basic one, often known as Origin Breathing. It is the simplest and easiest to learn of all, which should suit you all for now.”

Sophia raised her hand, and Professor Clemons inclined his head towards her.

“Professor, I have been provided a superior cycling technique by my family suited to my element. Should I be using Origin Breathing or the one from my father?”

Professor Clemons nodded a few times, before scanning the room. “I am sure nearly all of you are in a similar position? Most noble families tend to possess either ancestral knowledge or the funds to purchase a superior technique. Either way, I would strongly recommend starting with Origin Breathing and moving to a stronger one after you get used to cycling. If you are cycling and lose control of the mana, it can rebound and cause injuries, and more advanced techniques tend to cause worse injuries.”

I wanted to ask questions about the difference between techniques, but I hesitated with Sophia standing next to me. Luckily for me, another student was also curious enough to ask.

“What’s the point of using multiple techniques, sir? If you have one already, why not just stick with it?” the student asked, looked confused.

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“An excellent question! In general, more advanced techniques are superior to Origin Breathing, and some will grant unique attributes to your mana if practiced over the years. For instance, there is a technique known as the Ghostly Illusion technique, which grants the user the ability to disguise and hide their mana particularly well, allowing for nearly invisible spells. Origin Breathing is easy to master and does not have any aspect limitations. Still, because of that simplicity, it does not grant your mana any unique properties and falls short in nearly all areas.”

I thought back to Professor Barlow’s comments the previous day and realized this must be a part of what she meant. A mage should practice a cycling technique that grants their mana a trait befitting their style and preferences. I returned my focus onto Professor Clemons as he began going over how to perform Origin Breathing.

“All of you, please sit on the ground with your legs crossed. Now, close your eyes and focus on your cores. Most of you will likely have already reached this stage in your free time. If you have not, I will come to you and try to help give you a nudge in the right direction. For those that can touch their cores, I want you to picture the mana in the air around you mentally. As you inhale, imagine a trickle of energy slowly entering your body, traveling down into your core and just barely pushing against the boundaries of its walls. Hold it for a few seconds, then slowly breathe out and allow most of it to exit but leave the slightest scrap of mana behind.”

Professor Clemons paused for a minute, as we each followed his instructions. I imagined thin green wisps floating around and took a deep breath, pulling it down into my core in one smooth motion. My core felt uncomfortably full from the excess mana, and I could only hold it for a half-second before exhaling and pushing the energy back out. Unfortunately, I also expelled all the mana I had absorbed, which meant I failed to increase my reserves.

“Not to worry if you failed. Keep trying, and you will get used to it!” Professor Clemons called after a minute, his steps quiet as he moved between all of us.

I sighed quietly before attempting the technique again, with similar results. By the end of my class, I managed to get the method right a handful of times, but not with any consistency.

Professor Clemons stood in front of all of us, looking stern. “I will once strongly advise you not to attempt a more advanced cycling technique until you master Origin Breathing. Mastering the basic technique will help immensely in perfecting the more advanced skills.”

As the students filtered out, I paused for a second before deciding to take a bit of a risk and ask Professor Clemons for advice. While I may be able to get the information without his help, he seemed a nice enough man, and I felt the chance was worth it.

“Ahh, how can I help you, Apprentice…” he trailed off, clearly unsure about my name.

“Vayne, sir. And I had a question regarding Origin Breathing. I lack access to a more advanced technique. Is there any ways to improve enough to let it compete with better cycling techniques?”

“Hmm... to a degree, but frankly, it is useless for anything besides foundational training. Consistent practice focusing on improving your control and efficiency will let you keep up throughout Vapor, but you will notice its limitations during Mist. You would need decades of training and a mountain of resources to reach Cloud with just Origin Breathing. I would highly recommend looking into options to acquire a superior method with your family’s resources.”

I nodded and thanked the master, mentally swearing at his words as I walked away. It was the answer I expected, but I still had been hoping otherwise. My studies told me it could take a genius with resources a year to reach Mist. I lacked support, and while I suspected my talent at cultivation was above average, I doubted I was a true prodigy.

My understanding of my talent was that I possessed a far greater capacity to store and project mana at once. That, combined with Aether’s natural strengths, meant my magic would be much more potent than nearly anyone else at my rank. But each level represented an exponential increase in power above the prior one. Even a weak Mist was several times above a Vapor, and while I may be able to take a weak Mist, eventually, I would fall behind.

That made finding new methods to cycle my mana another concern, though not an immediate one. I still needed to determine what sort of mage I would become, and I wanted to master Origin Breathing first.

Taking a quick detour back to my room, I teleported back to the sanctum. I retrieved the beginner’s guide to cultivation Master Julian had given me a month earlier, before returning and hurrying down to War Theory.

Our class focused on specialties of magic in a large-scale battle, specifically how they could limit an opposing force. It was not particularly challenging to determine practical applications for clouds of fog on archers or using earth magic to negate a strong cavalry charge.

This left me open to read through the guide, carefully searching for anything that I could apply to my cultivation. There were passing mentions of methods to enhance the speed and purity of mana absorbed, which fit with what I recalled from “A Study on Aether” but like most things, they were far outside of my financial means.

Part of me wondered if I could somehow probe Duke Estton for financial support to fund my development, but I immediately discarded the thought. At a minimum, he would inform the King of my potential to secure a stronger position with the monarchy. I needed to avoid the King’s notice at all costs, while I slowly grew more powerful and capable.

After War Theory, I rushed downstairs to meet with Sig and Amelia. When I arrived, Sig smiled and tossed me a staff again, which I managed to catch clumsily.

“Alright, kids, same thing as last class. Get into the ready stance, but this time I want you to switch leading foot and hand. I don’t want either of you to get too used to favoring one side, so for today, we will work on that.”

During our drills, I noticed that the moves were simultaneously familiar and awkward. More than once, I accidentally moved as if I was leading with my left hand, fumbling with the weapon and nearly dropping it to the ground.

After we finished drills, we began to spar, and Amelia once more dominated. However, I felt as if I fared the smallest measure better this time, despite leaving covered in bruises.

Returning to my room after a quick dinner, I opened the lock pick set Master Morell had given me. It did not take me long to realize my mistakes the first time I used them.

The metal with the L-shaped bend was a tension wrench, while the curved tool was the actual pick.

It was a simple process when explained. Apply pressure to the tumblers with the wrench while using the pick to push the pins into place one by one. The wrench’s pressure would hold the pins in an open position, and once all were in the right spot, the lock would open.

Of course, it was easier said than done, and an hour of practice only yielded a few successes.

After I became too frustrated with that to continue, I began preparing my nightly supplements. I decided to skip tempering for the night, thanks to the dull pain still in my channels from overexertion in Espionage.

As I laid down in bed, I closed my eyes and began practicing Origin Breathing long into the night. At this rate, it could take months before I saw any noticeable change. Part of me worried that it would backfire on me, but another part knew I had to take the risk. I had some thoughts on ways to strengthen my channels and core further, but that was something I would need to tackle later. 

Eventually, after hours of practice, my exhaustion got the better of me, and I slowly passed into sleep.