The Academy transformed as finals crept ever closer. Every apprentice, from the hardest working and most ambitious to the laziest and least motivated, threw themselves into training. The Archives grew busier than usual, the halls fell silent, and dinner halls became filled with groups studying and quizzing one another on magical topics.

Even I was not immune to the prevailing mood, though I did not personally worry much about failing any one class. Forging was the only one that might have caused issues, but without reinforcement sucking up my time and focus, my skills in alteration and creation flourished.

But even as I studied, a nagging feeling of discontentment sat in the back of my mind like a splinter. It never resolved into anything familiar but became a common partner during long nights of studying.

As I often did, training became a way to push aside those unspoken worries. I refined my existing spells and theorized possible future modifications. My shields and bolts hit a plateau, and I finished designing my improved enchantments. Even Origin Breathing had reached the point where I could gather Aether nearly as fast while moving as I could sitting down.

The Aether water continued to bolster my internal reserves, and the latest imbibement put me halfway to Mist. I could condense my mana again before autumn if I kept up the same pace, which was not an unheard-of pace but certainly faster than I could ever have hoped.

But that pace would slow over time. Simon's notes and my own experiences found that the water held only so much Aether. Every new stage demanded more mana than the last, and while three or four vials might bridge the gap between Haze and Mist, that would not remain true. And even that did not touch the vast gulf between the gaseous and liquid ranks.

One afternoon, just two weeks before finals, I sat in my room. Piles of books sat on my desk, forming a fortress of paper and leather, and atop one sat Cat. I had not decided upon a good name yet, so Cat seemed as good as any.

The feline yawned at me, and just glancing at the animal filled me with second-hand exhaustion and an almost palpable sense of comfort. I debated taking a nap, then chuckled at the impulse.

"You are a bad influence," I commented, and Cat stared at me with what might be called indifference before closing his eyes and falling back asleep.

I shook my head before returning to my studies. It was a dull, repetitive review, covering all mana varieties and their traits, strengths, weaknesses, and optimum applications.

Aether is the least understood mana and is considered impractical, bordering on useless for most applications. While Aether has disproportionate raw power, its volatility, destructive tendencies, and inability to cast elemental spells leave it unsuited for nearly all occupations and circumstances, save scholarly pursuits.

It was a short, simple excerpt that was at once useless and illuminating. Reading those words crystallized an understanding of not just my magic but the Academy and my place within it.

I had to leave.

Aether was rare and considered useless. No one knew anything about it because no one had bothered to study it outside of the basics. The Academy could never help me reach my full potential, and staying here was a trap. It would do nothing but drag me down into mediocrity.

I felt a weight shift off my back and let out a long, low sigh. The thought had nagged at me for months, maybe since I had first learned about Aether, and my decision felt obvious in hindsight.

That did not make my next step easy, though.

---

Usually, I disliked drinking and partying, but it felt as good a time as any for a change of pace. Besides, it was a celebration, at least for most apprentices.

We had survived our final exams and could progress to the next year of training. There was one month to rest, prepare, and choose classes, leaving us ample time to, as Leon had put it, "commemorate the occasion."

Once more, I was reminded of the doors wealth and status could open. Leon had put together a party within one day for at least a hundred people, renting out not only an entire three-story inn from top to bottom and purchasing enough food and alcohol to supply every first-year in the Academy three times over.

I was on the second floor, leaning on a balcony overlooking a wide swath of apprentices and nobles dancing and talking below me. Simon stood near one wall, conversing with a few people I recognized from our enchanting class, and Sophia had already gone home despite her brother's protests. Leon moved from group to group, smiling and laughing like he was lifelong friends with every person in the room.

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The noble had greeted me earlier with a smile, a glass filled with amber liquid, and a demand to "relax for a change," an order I intended to follow as best as possible. The drink tasted faintly corrosive and burned going down, but that turned into a pleasant, almost soothing warmth after a few seconds.

I still had not decided what to do with my friends. Should I tell them about my visions? Should I lie? It felt wrong, almost like a betrayal, but was it fair to burden them with the truth?

A hand touched my shoulder, and I jumped, turning to find Amelia standing a few feet away. She wore bright, loose clothes that left both arms bare and had some makeup on her face, changing her eyes from pretty to striking. After a second, I realized I was staring and smiled.

"You look fantastic!" I said honestly, half-shouting over the music and din of the crowd.

Amelia smiled, then leaned in closer, "You do too!"

I purposefully looked down at my Academy uniform, then back up to her and raised an eyebrow. Amelia shrugged one shoulder, then walked up to lean against the balcony, pressing against my side as she watched the crowd.

"Are you okay?!" Amelia asked, leaning in close enough that I could feel her breath on my ear, "You've looked off all night!"

I tried not to notice and smiled, "Fine, thanks! Just taking it all in!"

Amelia stared at me for a few seconds, then grabbed my hand and pulled me. I paused only long enough to place my half-empty glass on a nearby table before following her lead. Together, we wove our way past dozens of drunk apprentices, making our way upstairs to the bedrooms.

I felt my face burn as Amelia picked one of the free rooms and pushed me inside. My mind raced as I considered how best to extricate myself from the situation. But when she closed the door behind her and folded her arms over her chest, I realized I had grossly misread the situation.

"Alright, spill it," Amelia ordered.

"Spill what?"

Amelia took a few steps closer, "Whatever the hell is bothering you. You've barely spoken to us all night, and you've had that look on your face again."

"I am not sure I love the implication about my face," I responded, "And nothing is bothering me."

"Vayne, we've spent almost every day together for a year. I know when there's something you're not telling me."

I was ready to deny the accusation again, but the look on Amelia's face stopped me. She looked...not desperate. That was too strong a word. But I was not sure I could stomach lying to her face.

Instead, I sat on the nearby bed and folded my hands together, weighing my words.

Finally, I said, "I am not happy."

Amelia's face fell. She swallowed hard, nodded a few times, and replied, "Oh. I didn't realize. How long-"

It took me a second to catch up, and I held up both hands, shaking my head and responding, "Not remotely what I meant. I am unhappy with other things, but not you. Never you."

"Then what?" Amelia sat beside me on the bed and placed one hand on my forearm.

"Everything?" I said, laughing despite the situation, "My training. My progress. This school and my place in it. It all feels...wrong. Hollow. Off."

"But why?" Amelia frowned.

I took a long breath, "Have you ever felt like you could do more? Like what you are doing is not what you are meant to do? And that continuing on the same path is a mistake?"

Amelia considered my words, then shook her head and said, "I haven't really thought about it."

"I have," unsure what else to say.

"Talking helps," Amelia offered, and I nodded in response.

"It does, but doing something would help more. And...I think I know what to do."

Amelia seemed to catch up to the implication. Her eyes widened, and she said, "Wait, are you talking about dropping out?"

I paused, then replied, "Yes."

"What about your training? And the Esttons?" Amelia pressed, "Aren't you supposed to be their advisor or something? You can't just walk away from that, can you?"

"I am bound by social expectations, not strict requirements. Technically, the only thing stopping me is respect," I responded, "But yes, I am. I assume Leon made the same offer to you as Simon?"

Leon had invited Simon to spend a few days at the familial estate, proposing we travel as a group and make a stop or two along the way. Like his father, Leon understood the value of friendships and knew maintaining cordial relationships with people like the Heltons was crucial to long-term success.

Amelia paused, then nodded, "Yeah, he did. I was going to say yes, actually. Why?"

"When we return to the Estton family estate, I plan to speak with the Duke, Leon, and Sophia," I swallowed a lump that formed in my throat, "About releasing me from my obligations."

"Do you think they'll agree?"

"I have no idea," I said, "But I would doubt it. Girem- the current advisor- would caution against it, at least."

I tried not to consider how my first mentor would react. While not quite my father, he was as close as I had to one. He was cold and distant, but he had still raised me and trusted me. In exchange, I was abandoning my responsibilities.

Amelia did not respond, and when I turned toward her, she was staring at me with a strange expression.

"What?" I asked.

"It's just...Vayne, this is going to make you enemies. The Esttons have a lot of friends out there. You're already a target. First, you dueled Duke Sion's son as a first-year apprentice. Now, you're backstabbing your benefactors?"

I chuckled, "Yes, not exactly the wisest of choices, is it?"

Truthfully, it was social and political suicide. I would be a hedge mage, a self-taught magic user without a family name or formal education. Worse, my reputation would hang over me like a dark cloud. It was an irrevocable choice, but one I knew I had to make.

"No, it isn't," Amelia agreed, then narrowed her eyes, "And that's not like you. What aren't you telling me?"

Everything important.

That was the truth, but instead, I took another breath and replied, "Nothing worth getting into tonight. Just please, trust me on this."

Amelia examined my face, and I saw the moment where her resolve broke. She smiled and nodded once before replying, "Okay. But...just be careful, okay?"

The room fell silent, save for our breathing and the muffled sounds of the party downstairs. I realized we were alone, sitting together on a bed in a tiny room, and I practically threw myself to my feet.

"Well," I coughed, my face burning, "Best we get back out there before someone notices our absence. What would you say to a dance?"

"I would say you're trying to distract me," Amelia replied as she stood and walked towards me with a smile that looked only half-forced.

"Is it working?" I asked.

"Maybe just this once."

I laughed, then realized Amelia had stepped in close. She was only a few feet away from me, and my cheeks burned as I met her eyes, close enough that I could see every detail of her face.

Amelia closed the gap before I could say anything, pressing her lips against mine. I had a moment to realize what was happening, then she broke the contact and stepped away. Amelia moved around me to stand beside the door and glanced over one shoulder with a wide grin and flashing eyes.

"Well?" Amelia asked, "Are you going to sit in here all night?"

I tried to speak, but when no words came, I shook my head. Amelia's smile grew, and she opened the door, exiting the bedroom and heading back down to the party. I paused momentarily to collect myself, then followed, my pulse still racing and my face burning hot.