Caelum woke to the soft, steady hum of life beyond his window. The academy grounds were already stirring with the day’s activities, and the fresh scent of dew-laden grass filled the cool morning air. Nyx had been unusually quiet, curled up at the foot of his bed, her sleek black tail twitching slightly as if sensing his thoughts.
Today was herbology, and while Caelum enjoyed the theoretical side of the subject, he was less enthusiastic about the physical work. The thought of spending hours hunched over magical plants didn’t appeal to him as much as forging blades or enchanting intricate runes. Still, it was part of the curriculum, and Professor Sylvan Maris had a reputation for being both brilliant and demanding.
As he dressed, Caelum’s mind wandered back to last night’s tutoring session. Word had spread quickly after their first few sessions, and already several students had inquired about joining. The extra income was helpful—more than helpful, really, considering the growing whispers about potential cuts to the mortal-born students’ allowances. Aelric had mentioned it in passing, and the nobles, led by Alistair Drenor, had been dropping not-so-subtle hints that changes were coming.
With a sigh, Caelum finished adjusting his tunic and glanced at Nyx. “Ready for another day?”
Nyx stretched lazily, yawning before hopping off the bed and landing gracefully on the floor. She blinked up at him with her mismatched eyes—one gold, one white—and let out a soft meow.
“Let’s get this over with, then,” Caelum muttered, feeling a strange mixture of determination and reluctance.
----------------------------------------
The herbology greenhouse was a marvel. Tall, crystalline windows filtered the sunlight, casting warm, golden rays over the vibrant plants that filled the space. Rows upon rows of magical flora lined the tables, their leaves shimmering with mana-infused energy. Some plants pulsed gently, their glow brightening and dimming in rhythm with an unseen force, while others released faint trails of light, weaving delicate patterns in the air.
Professor Sylvan Maris stood at the front, her long green robes blending seamlessly with the plants around her. She was an elegant figure, with silver hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. Her deep connection to nature was evident in the way the plants seemed to respond to her presence, leaning slightly toward her as if drawn to her mana.
"Today," Professor Maris began, her voice calm and melodic, "we will be focusing on the properties and uses of various magical plants, both in potion-making and spellcasting. The first half of the class will be spent here in the greenhouse, identifying and tending to these plants. The second half will take us into the fields beyond the academy, where we will gather wild herbs and plant seeds for future harvests."
Caelum found himself standing near the front of the group, his eyes scanning the plants around him. He recognized many from his studies—silverbark, known for its healing properties, and flamewort, often used in fire-based spells. Theoretical knowledge had always been his strength, and in many ways, herbology felt like a natural extension of the alchemical texts he had devoured. Yet, there was something different about working with the plants directly.
Professor Maris guided them to the first row of tables. “We’ll start with the basics—identifying key properties and learning how to properly care for these specimens. Pay attention to the mana flow within each plant. Magical flora are sensitive to mana, and understanding how they interact with it is crucial.”
As she spoke, Caelum’s attention drifted to a cluster of luminescent blue flowers—mana blooms. Their petals seemed to ripple with energy, a delicate pulse of magic radiating outward. He reached out, letting his fingers hover just above the petals. He could feel the faint pull of mana, the plant subtly drawing energy from its surroundings.
Seraphine, standing beside him, noticed his curiosity. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” she whispered. “They’re used in mana potions, but they’re tricky to handle. Too much mana, and they wilt. Too little, and they lose their potency.”
Caelum nodded, intrigued but not entirely drawn in. The plants were fascinating in their own way, but unlike his other classes, herbology didn’t ignite the same passion. It required patience, careful nurturing, and a connection to nature that didn’t resonate with him as strongly as the raw power of smithing or the precision of enchanting.
Still, he dutifully followed along as Professor Maris led them through the greenhouse, pointing out various plants and explaining their uses. They spent the next hour tending to the flora, carefully pruning, watering, and channeling just enough mana into the soil to nourish the roots without overwhelming them.
Caelum found the work... fine. He wasn’t struggling, but he wasn’t excelling either. There were no sparks of genius or flashes of insight here, just slow, methodical care. It was a new sensation for him, being average in a class, and while it wasn’t frustrating, it was humbling. His theoretical knowledge was flawless—he knew exactly how each plant functioned, what conditions they required, and how they interacted with different spells and potions—but the actual tending to them? That was another story.
----------------------------------------
The second half of the herbology class led the students beyond the academy's protective walls and into the untamed fields where magical herbs flourished in their natural state. The air here felt different—cooler, tinged with the scent of damp earth and fresh vegetation. Tall trees framed the clearing, their leaves rustling softly, as if the forest itself was whispering secrets. Beyond the fields, the dense forest pulsed with mana, the flora shifting and shimmering with each breath of wind, as though the plants were alive with latent magic.
Professor Sylvan Maris moved gracefully, her green robes flowing like water as she led the way through the fields. Her silver hair shimmered in the soft light as she pointed to a patch of wild herbs growing at the forest's edge. “Out here,” she began, her melodic voice cutting through the rustling leaves, “these plants thrive on raw, untamed mana. They aren’t sheltered by the controlled conditions of the greenhouse, so they learn to draw from, resist, or even channel mana in ways that create properties you won’t find elsewhere.”
Caelum knelt by a cluster of everroot, a deep purple herb known for its grounding properties in potions. He reached out carefully, but the plant subtly resisted his touch, pulling away as if rejecting the foreign mana emanating from his fingertips. The sensation was new to him—unlike metal, which bent to his will in the forge, these plants seemed to have their own sense of autonomy. They pushed back, almost as if testing him.
Seraphine, a few feet away, was gracefully gathering duskshade flowers, her fingers nimble as she worked through the leaves. The flowers seemed to respond to her touch, their petals gently swaying toward her. There was a fluidity to the way she moved, a natural connection between her mana and the plants. Caelum watched her for a moment, admiring her ease.
Stolen novel; please report.
“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Seraphine said softly, glancing over her shoulder with a knowing smile. “The way plants interact with mana. They’re not like metals or spells—they respond. They make choices.”
Caelum nodded, still focused on the everroot. “I’m used to controlling magic, shaping things. But this—it feels more like a negotiation than control.”
Seraphine’s laugh was light, blending with the breeze. “Exactly. You can’t force a plant to yield its essence. You have to work with it, respect its will.”
Their conversation quieted as they both focused on their tasks. Caelum continued to gather the herb, mindful now of the plant’s subtle resistance, carefully choosing which leaves to take. The peaceful hum of nature around them, the gentle rustle of leaves, and the soft chirps of distant birds lulled them into a quiet rhythm. But beneath the tranquility, Caelum couldn’t shake the undercurrent of tension—rumors whispered among students, nobles growing louder and more condescending, and the academy itself feeling less secure.
Professor Maris’ voice brought him back to the present as she moved closer to the group, stopping beside Caelum and gesturing to the plant. “When harvesting, it’s crucial to understand the plant’s structure and how to collect without harming it,” she instructed, her fingers delicately brushing the everroot’s leaves. “Don’t take all the leaves from one branch. Disperse your cuts among the plant to avoid stressing a single section.”
She motioned for the students to gather around, drawing their attention to the finer details. “There are two main types of branching in plants: lateral and terminal. Lateral branches grow outward from the sides of the main stem, while terminal branches grow directly from the tip.” She plucked a leaf near the base of the stem. “This leaf is older. The mana here has had time to concentrate, and its essence will be stronger. The younger leaves,” she pointed to the tender shoots near the tip, “are less potent but more responsive to immediate use.”
The students nodded, their eyes following her every move. Caelum listened intently as Professor Maris continued, explaining the importance of leaf margins, vein structures, and the plant’s age in determining its magical properties. “The veins in the leaves tell you a lot about its vitality. Strong, well-defined veins indicate a healthier, more mana-rich plant. When harvesting, observe these details.”
She knelt beside a nearby chamomile plant, its small white flowers swaying gently. “For example, chamomile,” she explained, “produces calming effects. But the part you harvest matters greatly depending on the use. If you want a mild effect for an evening tea, you’d harvest the younger leaves at the end of the branches. However,” she paused, plucking one of the older leaves from the base, “for a more potent tonic, perhaps to induce sleep or maintain a medicinal coma, you would use these older leaves, where the essence has concentrated.”
Caelum carefully mimicked her actions, inspecting the everroot for the healthiest leaves, considering what Professor Maris had said. His knowledge of plants from books felt distant and clinical compared to the raw experience of working in the field. This was different from smithing, from magic—it was slower, deliberate, almost meditative.
As he worked, Caelum couldn’t help but reflect on his own limits. Herbology wasn’t something he excelled in as naturally as his other studies. There was no power to be wielded here, no force to be bent to his will—just patience and precision. It frustrated him, but at the same time, it humbled him. For once, he wasn’t the best in the room, and he realized that was something he needed to learn to accept.
Professor Maris rose gracefully, her eyes scanning the group as they worked. “Remember,” she said, her voice a calm reminder, “every plant has its own rhythm, its own life force. Respect that, and they will yield their secrets to you.”
Caelum tucked the last of the everroot into his satchel, glancing over at Seraphine once more. She caught his gaze and smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. Together, they returned to their tasks, each step forward another lesson learned in the quiet, ancient language of the earth.
----------------------------------------
By the time the herbology class ended and Caelum returned to the academy grounds, the rumors had grown louder. Groups of students huddled together, their voices low but urgent, casting glances toward the noble-born students who walked with their usual air of superiority.
Caelum overheard snippets of conversation as he passed—words like “allowance cuts” and “mortal-born students” floated through the air, and he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The divide between nobles and commoners had always been there, but now it seemed to be widening.
It didn’t take long for Alistair Drenor and his entourage to make an appearance. They strolled through the courtyard with their heads held high, their expressions smug and condescending. Alistair, in particular, seemed to take pleasure in the growing unrest. He caught sight of Caelum and smirked, his voice carrying across the courtyard.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the academy’s favorite mortal-born prodigy,” Alistair drawled, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. “I hear allowances might be getting cut soon. I wonder how long you’ll last when you have to start paying your way, Caelum.”
Caelum stopped in his tracks, forcing himself to remain calm. He had dealt with taunts from nobles before, but there was a different edge to Alistair’s words now—a veiled threat that hinted at something more than just schoolyard bullying.
Seraphine, who had been walking beside him, placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “Ignore him,” she whispered, her voice steady. “He’s just trying to get a rise out of you.”
Caelum nodded, but the tension lingered. He could feel the eyes of other students on him—some curious, others sympathetic, but most just watching, waiting to see how he would react.
He chose not to engage. Instead, he turned and walked away, his mind racing with thoughts of the growing divide within the academy. It was becoming clear that being at the top of his class might be the only way to protect himself and the other low-blood students from whatever changes were coming.
----------------------------------------
Later that evening, Caelum met with Seraphine to discuss their tutoring plans. With the nobles pushing for reforms that would restrict resources to commoners and mortal-born students, he knew they needed to act fast. Tutoring was the most immediate way to earn extra income, and the demand was already growing.
“We’ll need to increase the number of sessions,” Caelum said as they sat in his room, reviewing their schedule. “If we can tutor three or four nights a week, we should be able to bring in enough to cover supplies and maybe even save some.”
Seraphine nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. “I agree. We could rotate between our rooms and use some of the study rooms in the library when necessary. That way, we won’t be limited by space.”
Caelum glanced at her, a hint of curiosity in his voice. “I still haven’t seen your room, you know.”
Seraphine smirked, her violet eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’ll see it soon enough. We’ll host the next session there.”
As they continued planning, Caelum’s mind wandered back to his herbology class. The work had been slow and methodical, and while he hadn’t excelled in the way he usually did, it had given him time to reflect. He had always been focused on advancing quickly, on mastering everything in front of him, but today had reminded him that not every skill could be rushed.
Still, there was a part of him that longed for something more—something that would help him stand out and secure his place in the academy. Tutoring was a good start, but it wouldn’t be enough on its own.
“Seraphine,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “Do you know of any missions or jobs we could take on? Something that pays well?”
Seraphine looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head. “There aren’t many options for first-years. Besides collecting herbs for Professor Sylvan and Professor Elowen, there’s not much that pays. And after today’s class, I’m guessing that’s not high on your list of interests.”
Caelum sighed, leaning back in his chair. “No, not really. Don’t get me wrong, I love Herbology, but it’s painfully... slow”
They lapsed into silence, both lost in their thoughts. The academy was becoming a more complicated place, and Caelum could feel the weight of the challenges ahead pressing down on him. But as always, he knew he couldn’t face them alone.
Nyx, ever the silent companion, curled up at the edge of the bed, her golden and white eyes watching Caelum intently. The bond between them had grown stronger with each passing day, and Caelum found comfort in the knowledge that, no matter what, he would never have to face the future alone.
With tutoring and determination, he would carve out a place for himself in the academy. And as he glanced at Seraphine, who sat beside him, deep in thought, he knew he had allies who would stand by his side when the time came to face the growing storm.