The cat drifted between awake and unconscious over the next several days, never rising for longer than it took to drink his fill before falling asleep again. His mana signature stabilized enough after the first day that he would likely survive, but I made sure to have enough Aether-infused water on hand to hasten his recovery.

Truthfully, it was not solely out of kindness. So far, I only had myself as a "test subject" for the water's effects, and the cat provided the opportunity to watch a magical creature recover and grow first-hand.

Unfortunately, I did not learn much. Whenever the cat drank water, the Aether flowed into his stomach and...vanished? I knew it had to be absorbed by his body, strengthening and nurturing it, but many details were beyond my understanding. Why did the cat's body know to direct mana into its muscles and bones while mine drew it into my core? Was it a matter of biology or something else?

None of those observations occupied my mind nearly as much as my musings on Cortos and his story.

The man seemed, in truth, a monster. He embodied several of my worst traits taken to their logical extreme. Cortos was selfish and more concerned with his advancement than anything else. He was prideful and independent to the point of chafing at any and all constraints. He was ambitious to a fault.

But, even though the similarities disturbed me, his hypothesis continued to draw my attention.

The idea of an "Archon" terrified and enthralled me in equal parts. The concept seemed antithetical to everything I had learned in my short apprenticeship. Magic seemed a journey without an end, making a "perfect" mage impossible.

Worse, if Cortos was right, the Archon gained horrific, restrictive abilities that no sane person would ever pursue. What sort of mage wanted the ability to reach into others and prevent them from using their mana? It was a violation, a power that took something intrinsic to all mages and stripped it from them.

But...I could not stop myself from wondering what an Archon would look like. I had always known on some level that if I wanted to succeed, I would need to surpass Archmagus. And now, I had a name for that stage. It was a rank no one had achieved-that I had not achieved in a past life.

What would that take? Could anyone go that far? Could I? And would I be content with what I had to sacrifice along the way? All questions that I could not, and did not want to, answer.

In between waiting for the cat to recover and dwelling on Cortos, I returned to training with a new zeal. I had wasted several days thinking, and that was a delay I could not afford. More importantly, I now had an unlikely sparring partner and a new goal to fulfill.

"Are you sure about this?!" Simon shouted from across the training room.

"Completely!" I shouted back, tilting my neck to either side. My limbs felt loose, and I bounced on the balls of my feet.

"But, if I misjudge something, you might get hurt! What if-"

"I can handle myself, Simon!" I interjected, knowing Simon well enough that he would work himself up if given the chance.

Simon paused for another second, then nodded once. A moment later, his mana shifted, and a brilliant blue aura rose from his skin. It shimmered teal at the edges, diffuse at first, but as I watched, it gathered, forming a single 'arm' twenty feet long and as thick around as my arm.

Slowly, that tendril grew opaque, more substantial in both my sight and mana senses. Simon adjusted his weight, raising both hands, and I pulled on my mana and drew it through my body and into my strengthening spell.

Simon threw one hand forward, and the water tendril mimicked his motion. It flicked through the air with a strange, wet snap, lashing towards my face like a whip.

I ducked to one side, feeling the attack sail over and to the side of my head. Green mist covered my body during the movement, and I reveled in the feeling of unnatural strength and speed.

Simon's other hand moved, and his water whip twisted and recoiled, trying to crash into my side. I gathered my legs beneath me and pushed, jumping up and over the attack as effortlessly as one might step over a root.

I had barely landed when Simon struck with a third attack, a thrust, followed by a hooking strike aimed at my lead leg.

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Simon was no duelist. His attacks came slow, his patterns predictable, and his follow-ups simple. While his control was fantastic for our age, with almost no wasted mana to his water tendril, even the worst duelist in my class would crush him. But that was not the point of this exercise.

My enhancement spell had multiple flaws, but the most obvious was its mana demand. While part of that came down to the nature of the magic, at least some was due to my skill or lack thereof. I did not have enough control or focus, and whenever one flagged, Aether went to waste. The best way to solve that problem was through training.

Simon threw a clumsy sweep at my head, and I ducked underneath it. Then, my spell failed. The world stuttered as my body returned to its normal state, and with that came a moment of disorientation. A moment later, Simon's attack struck me in the ribs.

While the strike did not hurt as badly as some things I had experienced, it remained decidedly unpleasant. I hit the floor hard, my side throbbing as I rolled onto my back.

Simon's spell fell apart a second later, and I heard footsteps against the wooden floor as he ran to kneel beside me, "Oh, crap, Vayne. Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I didn't realize you-"

"Simon," I held up one hand as I stood, "Yes, I am okay, and no, you did not hurt me. As I had already assured you a dozen times, I can handle myself."

"Are you sure? You're not hurt at all? I can run and grab a salve if you're-"

My ribs twinged, but I smiled, "Totally fine."

Simon seemed unconvinced, but I continued, "Nice job with the whip, by the way. You could stand to get faster, but your control is nearly flawless."

"Thanks," Simon rubbed the back of his neck, "I've been working on mostly that the last few months. Alchemy and enchanting, you know?"

I nodded, "Of course. How full is your core?"

"Uh...two-thirds or so."

"Perfect. Give me a few minutes to refill my core, and we can go again."

Hours later, Simon sat against the wall with sweat pouring down his face. He gasped for air, his mana signature weak and expended, and I knew his channels would feel like wrung-out cloths.

I stood ten feet away, still drawing Aether through my body in the same spell. Power leaked from every inch of my flesh, draining too much stamina to be feasible. There had to be a way to fix this, an easy solution I had yet to consider.

Finally, I sighed and released the spell before sitting down beside Simon. He held out a leather-wrapped container of water, and I took a long drink before leaning my head back and closing my eyes.

"Hey, Vayne. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why are you doing all of this?"

"Training? I figured that would be obvious," I replied without opening my eyes.

"No, not training. Well, not just training," Simon said, "It's just...you've been vanishing lately. You aren't always in class, and you've missed dinners with us more often lately. And when you do eat with us or come to class, you have this look in your eyes like you aren't there."

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I owe it to myself to do everything I can to succeed. That includes training, studying, and dedicating myself to magic. I cannot afford to take breaks or relax."

Before Simon could reply, I continued, "What about you? As far as I know, combat magic never interested you. But you practically jumped when I asked you to help me with this training."

Simon did not respond at first. When I opened my eyes, he was tapping his fingers on his knee, almost like he was playing an instrument.

"...Amelia told me you got hurt over the winter break doing something stupid. I...I wanted to be able to help you. And I can't do that if all I'm good at is alchemy or enchanting."

I took in his words, then realized something.

"Stupid?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Simon's face flushed, and he held up both hands, "That's how Amelia put it. She didn't elaborate, but-"

"No, it was definitely stupid," I laughed, "I just had never heard you say anything quite so blunt. Amelia, yes, but you tend to be more polite."

Simon looked towards the floor but smiled, "Anyways...like I said, next time."

I nodded, "Next time. But if you plan to help me fight monsters, I have a few ideas for your magic. How about we grab dinner and discuss them?"

When I returned to my room, I expected the cat to be asleep. I had left it in my bedroom, half so it had a comfortable place to sleep and half to limit his movements. The idea that it might be malicious or a threat seemed far-fetched, but there was no sense in leaving myself vulnerable.

To my surprise, I found the cat awake and standing on my bed. Green eyes stared at me from a narrow head with what I might call confusion. Even though only a few days had passed, he had already begun to grow noticeably, with his body a little larger, his frame heavier, and his fur thicker and fuller.

The cat took a few seconds to register my appearance, and I hoped he might be intelligent enough to understand I was friendly and return that sentiment in kind. I had saved his life, after all.

Instead, the cat half-turned to one side, arched his back, and let out a vicious hiss in my direction. While he had gained some size and did not feel ready to fall over at the first stiff gust of wind, it was still not much of a threat. I had fought enough monsters and beasts to find an angry kitten not worth much concern.

I walked up to the bed with all the confidence of a naive fool, reaching out to the cat with a gentle smile and saying, "Hey there. How are you feel-"

The cat's paw flicked out, catching the edge of my fingers. I yanked my hand away with a swear, feeling several burning lines across my skin where he had nicked me.

"Ow!" I shouted, "What did you do that for?!"

Predictably, the cat did not respond. He hissed again, retreating from me, and I took a step away, looking down at the tiny, red marks on my fingers before glaring at the cat again.

"You know, I did save your life. I know cats are supposed to be ingrates, but this is a bit much."

The cat hissed again, and I rolled my eyes before looking at his empty water bowl. I knelt, hesitating momentarily before pulling out a third vial of glowing waters.

I had only a few vials left and would run out at this rate. While I could always obtain more, that required a second trip to Aresford, which was not feasible. I uncorked the glass and refilled the water bowl before I could second-guess my choice.

If the cat sensed the water, he did not show it. He glared at me, and only after I took a few steps away did he start to deflate. It was not until I was at the bedroom door that the feline relaxed entirely, jumping to the floor and padding over to the bowl with eyes on me the entire way.

Finally, the cat dipped his head and took a few sips. I could not help but respect the caution, even if my scratches stung like hell.

When the cat drank his fill, he turned and jumped back onto the bed before curling up into a ball in the center of the mattress. He looked almost peaceful, and I smiled at the tiny, furry thing.

"Now that we feel a bit friendlier, can I have my bed back?" I asked, taking a step closer to the cat.

Hiss

Well, it was worth a shot.