"Shadow."

"No."

"Raven."

"He's a cat."

"Fine. Night."

"Terrible."

"Nightfall."

"Worse, actually."

"Nightshade?"

"You can't just add syllables to the same name. Also, maybe try moving off the whole 'black cat' angle."

I rolled my eyes, glancing up from the board in my hands to glare at Wallace, "You were the one who complained about his name. Why not think up one yourself?"

"Because he's not my pet."

"Truthfully, I am unconvinced he is mine, either."

"Still, it should be your choice," Wallace looked up from his own work, tapping his carving tool against the block of wood in front of him, "Let's think about what you know about the cat."

"He comes and goes whenever he wants, he is temperamental as hell, and he enjoys sleeping."

"You can't name him 'Asshole,' so none of those are relevant," Wallace said with a grin.

I snorted, "Then what is relevant?"

Wallace stared at Cat, who was once more fast asleep on my bed. He considered the beast for a few seconds, then turned back to me.

"You just so happened to find a creature that shares your mana affinity, which is the rarest around. Or maybe he found you. Either way, it feels like a real stroke of luck. Also, he is a black cat. Maybe lean into that?"

I stared at the beast myself, then nodded.

"His name is Lucky, then," I said with a tone of finality. I hoped that would be the end of it, but Wallace threw up both hands and scoffed.

"Can you take this seriously?"

"I am giving it precisely as much gravity as it deserves. More importantly, how much longer do you have to go on that?" I asked, gesturing toward the piece of wood in front of Wallace.

"Oh, I've been done for at least five minutes," Wallace replied, sliding the board across the table towards me. I picked it up, examining his work with as critical an eye as possible.

I wanted to throw him into something more practical but decided against it. Wallace's skills in carving runes and circles left much to be desired. Truthfully, so did mine, but I had less choice in the matter. I had to keep progressing, which meant learning as I went rather than dedicating months to training the right way.

"Your runes here and here are too shallow," I said, pointing with the tip of my tool, "They cannot hold enough substrate to bind an enchantment properly. And right here. See how deeply you cut? That might compromise the integrity of the object itself. That will, in turn, worsen degradation and risk a catastrophic failure. Try again."

Wallace groaned but nodded, picking out a new piece of wood from the small pile beside our table. I watched him for a second or two, then returned my attention to my work.

I had begun carving out a miniature replica of my gathering circle, essentially as a proof of concept. It was about a foot wide and would only last for a few minutes without a proper metal binding, but this was just the first step. All I needed to do was look for and identify critical flaws, not make something that worked long-term.

The design itself consisted of two circles and a series of runes. I had used a compass to make sure both rings were as close to perfect as possible, though I was not entirely sure I had carved them evenly. By contrast, the runes in between each ring looked next to perfect. I could pick out minor flaws, but nothing that should impact the overall functionality.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

I finished the last rune with one final sweep, then brushed away the curled bits of wood. While I had not worked much with wood and had no idea how it would handle Aether, it was the safest option and wasted the least material.

Speaking of safer...

I stood, leaving Wallace at the table as I walked to the center of the room, casting Travelers Armor as I went. It was likely unnecessary, but no one ever suffered from an extra precaution or two.

It took just seconds to fill the runes, focusing my will on the idea of pulling in and holding mana. I felt the enchantment snap into place and a brief flash of green lit up the warehouse. The moment it did so, I placed the rune-marked wooden board onto the floor and backed away, waiting for something to happen.

And nothing did.

This was not strictly true, as I could feel the enchantment work and saw a faint heat shimmer above the circle, but that was it. There were no signs of imminent failure or indications of major flaws within it that might cause problems. Aether was practically flooding out of the runes, so much so that it would last minutes at best, but I had assumed as much.

"Workable," I muttered, nodding a few times as I folded my arms over my chest, "This type of wood is too porous, though. Should I try another material? No, this might be safer. The enchantment will bleed too much energy to cause damage if it fails. The important question is, what should I do next? Hmm..."

I tapped my foot, pondering my next step. Ideally, I would craft the circle in full, but that would take a few days and drain what was left of our funds. Wallace could help with the work, but that did nothing for the monetary realities of such an endeavor. We would be left destitute, which meant that if it failed...

On the other hand, what was gold worth if it did not help speed my growth? I had no real interest in luxuries or trinkets, and even wasting gold on a failed magical endeavor might yield useful information in return.

The runes stopped glowing, and the enchantment fell apart before I decided. In fact, I went to sleep, still turning over the question in my head, unsure whether or not to take the plunge.

The following morning, I rose without a clear goal in mind. I decided to talk it over with Wallace later and made my way to Lysandra's shop for what I suspected would be a dull, dry day of studying.

"Ah good, Vayne, you're here," Master Lysandra said as I entered the shop, "Perfect timing. I need you to run down the street and buy a few things. Give me a moment, and I'll write out a list."

It would not be the first time I had run to retrieve supplies. Master Lysandra often delegated such tasks to us, and I had followed her orders without a fuss. I could not say why I hesitated this time or why I spoke up. But the why did not matter so much as the fact that I did.

"May I ask you something?"

Master Lysandra paused mid-sentence, glancing up at me and raising an eyebrow, "Of course."

"Has my progress been satisfactory so far?"

"More than satisfactory. You're one of the fastest students I've had," Master Lysandra said, a brief smile touching her lips, "Though I'd like it if you took a little longer with your stories. You miss so many fun details."

I ignored the last part of her sentence and continued, "And my work? Have I made any major mistakes?"

"Nothing that stands out, no."

"Then, with all due respect, how long until I can learn genuine magical healing?" I asked before belatedly adding, "Master."

Master Lysandra's warm smile faded, and she replied, "Vayne, healing isn't a toy. You have to learn the right way, or you cannot learn at all. I warned you about this."

"I understand that, and I have learned the right way. I spend all day and night studying and reading. I have filled out whole notebooks, asked questions, and tried to cram as much information into my head as possible. But I am also not blind to my...shortcomings or the realities of time. I am not sure I can afford to wait much longer."

The healer did not respond, so I gestured to my chest and continued, "My Aether has held me back in many ways. I cannot cast elemental magic. Forging is of middling use at best. Spellcasting is more dangerous for me than any other affinity. I need...I need to know whether or not healing is even possible. And if it is not, it may be time to consider another path."

Lysandra considered me for a long time, and I wondered if she would throw me out entirely. It would not be an undeserved response, but I felt I had a point. Whether or not she agreed, there was a real possibility my Aether made true magical healing impossible. If that was the case, it was better to know now than to waste months on such a pursuit.

Finally, Lysandra shook her head.

"I cannot," Lysandra said, and my stomach fell, "I understand why you want to jump ahead, but healing isn't like other magic. If you rush this—if you jump ahead, you will kill someone. You might kill yourself. And I will not have that happen under my watch."

"Master, all magic is dangerous," I countered.

"Not like this, it isn't. Everyone understands a fireball is a weapon designed to kill. But an improperly trained healer is something else. It's a more insidious killer," Lysandra said, "You might heal a hundred people, thinking you're doing a good thing, only to leave them wracked with horrible pain, tumorous growths, or permanent damage to their organs."

I gritted my teeth and tried to think up a counter, but nothing came to mind. The frustrating truth was that she was right. Healing was a subtle art, unpopular because it required extensive, specialized training to reach any sort of viability.

But that reality did not make it any easier to wait.

"However," Master Lysandra continued, interrupting my somewhat self-flagellating musings, "This does seem as good a time as any. I have something important to discuss."

I blinked, "You do?"

"You sound surprised."

"Honestly, I expected you to kick me out after what I said."

Lysandra smiled, "If we abandoned every student who became frustrated with their training, we wouldn't have made it past our first century. No, I still think you could make for an excellent healer, provided you have a little more patience."

I tended to struggle with that last part, but admitting as much felt counter-productive. So, I smiled, nodded, and replied, "I will do my best, master."

"Good. Now, as I said, I have something to discuss with you. You see, most of my patients reside here, but not all. I've assisted many people along the coast over the years, and one recently sent word. His health is declining, and he wants my assistance. In person."

It was not hard to follow the implication.

"And you want me to come with you?" I asked.

"I do," Lysandra nodded.

I did not want to ask, but curiosity got the better of me.

"Why not Selene? She has trained with you longer, and she is more experienced."

That, and she had not all but demanded to accelerate her training five minutes ago.

"We will be gone for at least a week. Maybe two," Master Lysandra explained, "I cannot close my shop for so long, and you aren't trained enough to watch it alone. Selene, however, is. Besides, she doesn't have much to learn from this sort of trip. You do."

I hesitated, though I could not figure out why, and Master Lysandra smiled again, continuing, "Think about it. I'm not planning to leave for a few more days, so you have time. And please, don't feel pressured to accept. You are my student, not my servant. I'm only offering because I think it might help."

"Thank you, master," and I realized I was genuinely grateful. The woman might be too cautious for my tastes, and she tended to be a bit overly friendly and eccentric, but I could not deny her kindness.

We stood there for a few more seconds before Lysandra cleared her throat, "...that said, I would like you to grab those supplies."

However, kindness did not mean she was a pushover.