With this new task placed on my shoulders, Sebastien determined it was time to leave for the Academia. That there would be no further discussion regarding how to infiltrate the Resistance revealed the chancellor trusted me. He wanted information and believed I could provide it if I convinced Macaila Amherst and Cassiah Hawthorne to trust me. Although I doubted I could arrive at that level of trust with them, I was going to try. If it would prevent more deaths, I would try.

"It's time to go." Sebastien stood up and moved away from the table. After he threw an expectant look at me, I followed him. He put out his arm for me to grab. My first touch was glancing, light. However, after some consideration of the space vortex we were about to hurl through, I tightened my grip.

"Where is the Academia?" I wondered. It seemed to be the simplest question I could ask.

"Canada, believe it or not," Sebastien said.

I felt the rush of magic swarm around me as Sebastien manipulated the streams of space. Like it had been before, the transport seemed instantaneous, like it happened in the blink of an eye. Sebastien's office fell away. My entire body was transported to the fortress that the Academia resided in. Sebastien and I stood in between the edge of an evergreen forest and a gate meant to keep interlopers out. At this time, the gate was open to allow people in.

Awestruck, I stared at the fortress and its surroundings. The mages had built the school on a wide plateau of land that rose high above the surrounding land. The surrounding land formed deep canyons and valleys around the plateau. Only the main bridge in front of the entrance gate crossed the canyon. On the other side of the valleys and canyons, there was more elevated land—none higher than the plot the fortress sat on, though. The forest continued, stretching past my line of sight. The school itself had been constructed with classical architecture in mind. Rows upon rows of Georgian style windows ran across the fortress's walls. One part of the fortress had been created as if it was a grand chapel, matching the likes of Notre Dame in Paris, with its spires and lengthy fortifications.

There was a large square courtyard in front of the entrance, separated by a wide cobblestone walkway. Oak trees had been planted to promote aesthetics. Several uniformed teenagers were loitering underneath the trees. Some had books propped open on their knees. Others were lounging on their stomachs, with their legs up in the air, talking to their companions. One sat alone and was focused on eating his sandwich. The cobblestone walkway led up to a grand entry. It was bordered on both sides by two towers. A large clock was built into the architecture over the entry.

"You know, almost every single mage has been taught here. Your very own mother wandered these grounds once," Sebastien chatted as we started walking the path down to the school's front doors. He sounded nostalgic. As we walked by the students underneath the trees, they perked up with interest.

"She never spoke about her childhood or adolescent years," I said.

"She probably didn't want to blurt something out about magic and have you questioning her."

"Probably." I sighed. "Do you know what type of student she was?"

"One of the popular ones. She still maintained good scores and got along with the professors. A lot of the students looked up to her."

"Because of her status?"

"You could say that."

I bit my lip. Once upon a time, Jay had also walked these walls before being expelled. I presented another question to the chancellor. "If you knew Jay was in Astraera, why didn't you tell me?"

"Jay has been on his own journey. It has been good for him. I didn't want to destroy the progress he's made with having a disciplined structure around him by introducing an unknown into the equation. Though after your incidental contact at the dinner, it was time. Having you back in his life would permit him more growth." I grimaced. I wasn't satisfied with the answer.

The Academia's front entry doors were propped open, allowing us easy access to the wide foyer. Stone had been heavily used to construct the foyer. It covered the floor, walls, and the two staircases on either side of the foyer that met and led to a secondary level. As my eyes adjusted from the bright sunshine to the interior darkness, I saw tapestries against the walls. The images depicted on the tapestries were vastly detailed—enough to tell a story from just one simple picture. They seemed to feature the school's beginnings. I didn't get much of a chance to study them, for the foyer was empty apart from the single woman standing in the middle of the space.

As we approached, the stern woman's narrowed eyes assessed me. Her height made her imposing and intimidating, as did her thick red lips, which were pressed into a narrow line. Her dark-colored hair was parted and fashioned into a bun at the nape of her neck. There were a pair of pearls on her earlobes. Her slate gray suit completed the ensemble. She looked as if she could send a few students running out of her office, crying from her bark. Perhaps she was why the foyer was void of students. "Chancellor," the woman greeted when we were close enough. There was an underlying confidence in her voice from that single word. This was a woman who viewed herself as having equal standing with the head of state.

"Dean Winters," exchanged Sebastien. "May I introduce you to Briara Disraeli?"

The dean placed her hands over her heart and nodded in my direction. Her lack of enthusiasm revealed her true feelings about our presence on school grounds. "This is unprecedented, chancellor."

"Professor Leander has graciously offered his personal time to train her," Sebastien declared.

"Yes, I know. He has assured me his priority is to his current students," Dean Winters returned in a drawl. "As long as it remains that way, I am fine with allowing this new arrangement to proceed."

Their mutual understanding clarified, the dean led us out of the foyer. We followed her up the right staircase and veered down the hallway that had been hidden from view while we had stood in the foyer. Doors lined the hallway; most of them were shut. However, in one of the first doors we passed that was open, I saw children as young as four years old settled around a table, wearing smocks, and maneuvering their paint-splattered fingers around on a large sheet of butcher paper. Shocked, I sent Sebastien a questioning look. "The Academia has a daycare option for those mage families who can't afford a one-parent salary," Sebastien clarified. Dean Winters, who was walking in front of us, shot a blank glance over her shoulder.

"Even though you are not technically a student here, Ms. Disraeli," the dean started as we rounded a corner at the end of the hallway, "you are still expected to follow the rules. I'll make sure Professor Leander provides you a copy of the student handbook. We do not hesitate to expel from our school. The focus is on learning, and I will not have you detract from others' opportunities. Most of them are limited in the ones they get, so it has always been my goal they receive equal opportunities in these walls."

The floor underneath our feet began to transform into a subtle ramp. "Yes, Dean Winters," I agreed, although there was a trapped giggle in my throat from Sebastien's eye roll behind her back. I didn't think it was wise to bring up Jay's expulsion.

"Just so we're clear."

"You won't have any problems with her, Samantha," Sebastien assured. "She just wants to learn how to control her powers."

There was another directional switch in the hallway, and as soon as we rounded the corner, I saw we were in a broader hallway. The windows lining the walls revealed we were over another courtyard. The building jetted out into the courtyard, accessed by the only doors in the hallway. It was to these double doors that Dean Winters led us to. She held it open for us to enter before following.

Our entrance created a stir in the classroom, distracting the students from the lecture the professor was providing. Several curious gazes looked back, only to return to the front of the room. Several backs straightened from seeing the chancellor and Academia's dean entering their classroom. The professor's eyes drifted to us, wary with recognition. He didn't interrupt his lecture to greet us. We found places against the wall next to the door. The classroom had stadium style seating. The students' desks were arranged in tiers and separated by the main aisle of steps leading down into the classroom floor. Two large counters faced the two separate sides of the audience. Behind them, the space was pitch black. At first, I thought it was a screen. I had to reassess this when I couldn't find its borders. As the professor spoke, images appeared on the black canvas behind him.

"As that energy builds up in our bodies, it has nowhere else to escape to. Scientists have concluded that a child can start becoming a vessel for magical energy as early as five years old, although it is extremely rare. It is more commonplace for children to develop that capability over time, and the ability to be displayed in small magical outbursts. Fortunately, these outbursts are minimal and easily contained. It is important for the child to start receiving formal education in controlling his powers as soon as possible after these initial signs. We start out with training them on how to use incantations and gestures to funnel that magic into an intentional act. At the intermediary level, they graduate to gestures only, and then at expert, it's all in the mind. We will explore the theory behind magical development later this semester. For now, I want you all to focus on reading chapter two in your texts as homework. It should lead to some fascinating discussion two classes from now. Next class, we will have a live demonstration on the magical affinities and levels, so come prepared to make observations and take notes. I look forward to seeing what you observe. You are dismissed."

The professor timed his dismissal with the ring of the nearby clocktower. The students were quick to slam their textbooks shut and thrust them into backpacks. Some had the routine down enough that they were already climbing the steps to exit the auditorium ten seconds after the bell had rung. We were the recipients of several curious glances. One student, who had shaggy black hair and ambition in his eyes, even greeted Sebastien. "Good morning, Chancellor Kersey. I hope you're having a good day." Sebastien nodded back at him; the rest of the class had filed behind the boy in the effort to push out of the classroom as quickly as possible.

To my astonishment, Macaila Amherst and Cassiah Hawthorne were amongst those in the middle. My eyes met with Macaila's curious hazel ones when I felt her stare on me. She quickly averted her eyes. I watched them until they disappeared through the two auditorium doors.

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When the auditorium had cleared out, I followed the dean and chancellor down the steps and to the main floor, where the professor was waiting for us. His years of wisdom and life were reflected by his salt and pepper hair—which he had a full head of—and the deeply rooted lines running across his forehead and branching out from the corners of his eyes. His face had a rounder, fuller frame to it. A twig by no means, the professor still dressed in a stately, fashionable manner, opting for a sweater vest and black slacks. I ruled that his ancestry probably came from mid-to-eastern Europe. "Chancellor Kersey, Dean Winters," he nodded in greeting before turning his gaze to me. There was a spark of interest living in his eyes. "And you must be Briara Disraeli."

"I am," I confirmed just as I stepped off the bottom step.

"Lucas Leander," the professor introduced. "I had the honor of training your mother when she was first starting out. You look remarkably like her."

I sucked in a deep breath. "I hope I live up to the legacy she left behind."

"Between his experience and your focus and motivation, I have no doubt that you will," Sebastien assured. I saw Lucas Leander's eyes shift from me to Sebastien. They maintained eye contact longer than usual, which was also punctuated by well-timed blinks. They were communicating silently, and it seemed as if the dean and I were excluded from that communication. My eyes darted back and forth from the professor and chancellor without any success in deciphering the exchange.

"Well, we will leave you two to your first lesson," Dean Winters finally interrupted the secret exchange. The chancellor was agreeable and left with the dean.

The professor was silent until he heard the door shutting behind his two superiors. "I haven't taught beginner magic since the beginning of my career. Would never go back to it, either. I still blame trying to wrangle a room full of wild, hyper seven-year-olds led to my gray hairs." Leander's face contorted in a mockery of pain. It brought a sympathetic smile to my face. "Luckily for me, you are not a seven-year-old, and probably a lot more attentive." The professor's hand had been searching amongst the items cluttering the counter. It seized one item with purpose and brought it up before his face. It was a multi-sided wooden die, perhaps with eighteen different sides. He gestured for me to follow him to the back of the room. I didn't see the door that had been inserted into the black wall until I was right up on it. Leander dug his fingers into a thin crack in the wall and slid the door open.

"I saw that your evaluation results came back inconclusive." Leander changed the topic of conversation.

"That won’t cause any issues, will it?" I asked as I walked through the door.

I stepped into a wide gymnasium. The floor was a matte black wood. Four large circles were drawn on the wood in each of the gymnasium's corners. One smaller circle was in between the larger ones. Several distinct lines stretched across the floor and connected the circles to one another. There wasn't any pattern to them; they were varying lengths away from each other. Each of the circles contained one symbol that was imprinted on the floor.

"No. The first exercise I was going to do with you is one I did with my beginner students. Even though we had conclusive evaluation results with them, the exercise told me a lot more about whom I was dealing with, as well as what I was dealing with." Leander walked to the centermost circle. He bent down in its epicenter to lay the die on the ground. The die tipped over to rest on its side. Leander gestured for me to stand in front of it while he migrated to the circle's exterior edge. Uncertain, I stood over it, staring down at it, wondering what I was supposed to do.

Standing in front of me, Leander placed his hands behind his back. "Briara, I want you to make the die spin." Frowning, I crouched to pinch the top part of the die in between my thumb and index finger. "No! Make it spin with your mind." My gaze flicked up to look at him. "Those with hali affinities make it spin through some type of water manipulation," Leander explained as I slowly shifted to my full height. "They create some sort of wave, or some ice. The higher-level ones create something like a hurricane. The pyra affinities are notorious for setting it on fire, while micas make the floor vibrate. Aeries have it easy, as theirs is just air manipulation.

"I want you to first think about moving that die. Just visualize forcing it to spin. You know how it feels when you manually force it. You've felt the point in between your thumb and index finger. I want you to imagine doing that without touching it. How will you do it? What does your mind naturally resort to?" Leander walked along the circle's arc. His feet remained on the line's circumference while his hands remained behind his back. I stared hard at the die, doing as I was instructed. Inside of my head, I could see it going back to balancing on its tip and rotating slowly on it before gaining speed. I separated myself from my body and only focused on the vision in my mind, willing it to work. I did this until I could feel the fatigue of focusing really set in. My concentration wavered from my doubt. Admitting defeat and searching for guidance, my eyes sought Leander. He had migrated around the circle and was in a different place than when I first started the exercise.

"Do some children visualize whatever affinity they have moving the die?" I questioned.

"Some do," he stated. "You can start visualizing with each element to see if one of them works for you."

"How long did I stare at the die for the first time?" I inquired.

"A good five minutes or so."

I sighed and changed my visualization tactic. I tried to propel the die into movement using each affinity. I focused and visualized flames prompting the die into movement; the die slipping and sliding around on the ice that suddenly appeared underneath it; a sudden gust of wind whirling it around; and the floor vibrating underneath my feet. With each failed attempt, my frustration mounted. The images from the Union Station Massacre came back to me as I got inside of my head. I had manipulated air, or how else could Jay have been thrown backwards like a rag doll? I had manipulated fire; there had been flames and smoke eating away at the interior of the building when I had regained consciousness. Parts of the interior had been flooded as well, while ravines separated different sections of the floor. There had been aspects of every affinity there. Despite this, my doubt expanded with each failed attempt. Inconclusive was seared across my mind; I was haunted by its repetitiveness in my head.

By the end of the practice, the die remained exactly where Leander had left it. I was quashing the urge to hurl the die across the gymnasium. I was crouched over it. My eyes were twitching with frustration and impatience. My hands were formed into fists at my sides, and I could feel my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands. I felt tension straining against my forehead. I repeatedly shuffled through the affinities, believing that if I wanted it enough, Leander's task would be possible. Academics, covert studies, and gymnastics had never been difficult for me to learn; it had come naturally. This magic was something else entirely.

"Let's call it," Leander declared, his tone sympathetic, after I had been trying for two hours. He materialized in my field of vision within the circle, bent down, and the die disappeared in his fist. He stood up with grace.

"I don't understand why I couldn't get it," I moaned. I sat on the floor, slouching, with my legs splayed out in front of me. Humiliated over my failure, I stared hard at a blank section of the floor in front of me. "It exploded out of me a couple of times before."

"The first time—the one at Union Station—was a reaction from the rasa stone your mother implanted in you. It had acted like a dam. You spent years collecting and storing your magic within your body. When that dam collapsed, that gigantic flood of your magic left you. Did you feel extremely fatigued afterwards? Faint-headed?" I nodded. "It means you reached your magical limitations that day and caused a burn out. If you had continued past that and tried to tap into the environmental magic around you, you would have destroyed yourself. You toe the line with death every time you use that much magic." At my horrified expression, Leander assured, "That's why we are here today: to help you control it and learn your limitations."

"Do people try to keep any magic in reserve or do they just blow all of it in one go?" I wondered.

"It depends on the person and situation." Leander shrugged. "Like everything else, there are the savers and then the more reckless ones."

"How long does it take for a person's magical well to fill up again?" Maybe that was why I couldn't manipulate the die today. Maybe it took a lot of time just for that well to have something in it. It had been three years in between my magical episodes. The episode at the jail—where I had thrown officers and demons backwards without lifting a hand—had been on a smaller scale than the massacre. I still felt empty, exhausted afterwards. I had basically fainted in Kyrian's arms. It had only been a couple of days since then. Perhaps more time was needed in order to manipulate the world around me.

"Again, everyone is different," Leander answered. He walked towards the other side of the gymnasium where another door was. Uncertain, I scrambled to my feet and hurried to follow him. "You displayed a valiant effort today. To give you more of an idea of what magic looks like, I'd like for you to come to my next Magical Theory lesson in two days. It's two hours before your next lesson. You can come for the class, and then we'll begin your lesson when I dismiss the class. I want you to see the demonstrations so you can get more exposure as to how magic is used."

Leander reached the door. Like the one connecting the classroom to the gymnasium, it was one that slid open. Beyond was a small square room. For a few seconds, I was blinded with panic, and taken back to the interrogation room at the Denver Police headquarters. My heart thumping against my chest, I observed that there was only one chair at the round table. A large vertical slab of amethyst stood on the table. Those things were the only items in the room. I sent a questioning look at Leander, who promptly answered, "Some of my students get into their heads a bit too much. It seemed to me you were getting into yours during the practice. To calm them down before releasing them into the harsh world, I have them meditate. The amethyst helps calm them. It's important that they return to the world calm for obvious reasons. We've had our fair share of accidental magical discharges." Leander motioned to the chair. "Take a seat," he directed.

Uncomfortable, I slid in front of him and settled into the chair. The chair was facing away from the door, putting my back to it. I craned my body around to face Leander. His entire body hovered in the doorway, blocking any escape. His hand was curled around the edge of the door. "You're going to shut the door?" I asked apprehensively.

"It will help you focus on the amethyst and meditating." Leander assured before he started to shut the door.

"How long do I have to do this for?" I hurried to ask.

Leander didn't even pause as he shut the door. "A good while. I'll let you know when you're done," he promised. The door shut resolutely.

Sighing, I turned back around in the chair. It was a wooden one, and I couldn't imagine how Leander's students could get comfortable enough to focus. I inhaled a deep breath and forced myself to relax. My hands had been curled into fists, so I flattened them on my thighs. I rotated my shoulders back to loosen the tension residing there. I fought past multiple distractions in my mind, letting my eyes linger on the amethyst rock in front of me. The shades of violet were visible from the rock's dull crust. The jewel's surface was uneven and broken, as if someone had shattered the rock into two, and this was the only piece that was left. Wondering how long Leander would force me to meditate, and if he would come to get me, I started counting the small squares of purple jetting out from the crust.

I was doubting the meditation and amethyst's effects when I felt the first signs of a tingling sensation on my arms. It was then that I realized I had lost my focus counting the purple squares. I had been on row thirty-seven, column eight before my focus had drifted. Not remembering when I had started to zone out, I wondered how much time had passed—if any at all. I had an urge to glance at the door behind me, one that I couldn’t give into because I couldn't muster the physical energy to rotate my head to check. The amethyst continued to mesmerize me. It seemed to glitter and sparkle, which it had not been doing before within the shadows of the room. A melody of chimes played in the background; its volume was so soft, I could not determine which direction it came from. The tingling spread to my legs, and then my feet.

There was only one other time I had felt something similar. Kit, Jay, and I had been in Santiago. I had been sixteen, and Galileo had taken us out for dinner. When Galileo hadn't been looking, Jay slipped Kit and me an edible. Back then, I had trusted Jay so much that I ate the gummy, not thinking anything about it. I spent that entire dinner attempting to act normal, despite the high, paranoid that Galileo would punish me if he caught me. I had auditory hallucinations of a dog crying several streets down. When we got to the hotel room, I remember simply lying on the bed on my back and unable to move my limbs. I was frozen...