We need tools to help us overcome the Wall and a method to keep our bearings while crossing Destructions’ Waste, which extends four times the landmass of Grev’haim. After that, we face an unknown barrier to the Calv’alvin Forest. With knowledge in crafting amalgamations, I can make those tools: sustenance, shelter, protection, and possibly transportation.

The bare minimum necessary to continue studying involves amassing at least twenty times the yearly revenue of my father's farm while maintaining my marks and preparing for our journey. Daunting prospects suspend my disbelief. Upon finishing Artificial Amalgamations Volume One, I will report to Mage Crucus to receive the second.

“Good afternoon, Mage Crucus,” I greet.

“Ah, Vesh. Yes— It hasn’t been a week, has it?” He fumbles, rising from his chair and covering his work.

“It has not, Mage,” I affirm.

“Well— Yes. Well done. Make sure you are absorbing the material, though,” Mage Crucus advises, grabbing another book from a shelf containing fifteen volumes.

“I will heed your council; it might be easier for both of us if you gave me a few volumes at once,” I offer.

“It might be… Yes. You can have two at a time.” He bargains, grabbing the third volume.

“Are there runes in those volumes?” I begin, looking for confirmation.

“These will only cover the procedure, structural formation, and material affinity,” he denies.

“Where will I learn runes?”

“As I stated earlier, you likely will not be permitted to learn such things.”

“High Mage Castillio said you could teach me even if I’m not permitted to use it.” I try, walking a precarious line of inquiry.

“You are misunderstanding. We can not refuse to train you on the nature of any magic you have an affinity with. In other words, I can not refuse to tell you what death magic is or how it functions in you. If you wish to learn runes, aside from a few basic ones that you will learn to assist me, you would need to complete your certification and apply for a permit. Once obtained, the permit will only allow you information on the task permitted.” he states, dashing my hopes.

“And the basic runes?”

“Yes, the barrier rune is the most basic, and you will have seen that one in the first volume,” he explains while drawing a circle.

“Oh. Yes, the book did not call it a rune, though.”

“It doesn’t refer to runes but focuses more on the underlying dynamics. There are two others. The first,” they draw a straight line, “That is it. Transference runes connect portions of your rune formation. The last is a basic inductor rune, but you won't need to worry about this until your second year if you were to study,” they finish, drawing a swirl.

“Where can I find the tools to engrave?” I round.

“Yes, you will receive a permit for an appropriate practical room soon,” Crucus gifts.

"Thank you, Mage. Is there anything else?"

“Yes, once you have successfully recreated this runeprint, you can earnestly assist me. These documents will get you to and in the workshop; do not diverge from the print. lastly, the second volume explains how to use the workstation.” He punctuates by handing me a scroll tube.

“Yes, mage.” I adhere, leaving the shack and cracking the book on my trek.

The second volume fills my free time, going into detail regarding each step of the engraving process and then several different methods of infusing and cleansing metals. The internal nature of my magic makes me skeptical that these methods will fit my situation. Manifesting any innate ability from my magic is still elusive, even with the copious lecturers on the topic, yet I have yet to be in a setting permitting active attempts.

My practical lessons offer a way to deepen my understanding of manifestation. Sadly, destruction magic is the first of my classes to have such a lesson. I enter a gray room full of transference and barrier runes, all with different types of materials. High mage Gallah directs us to a piece of paper hanging by a string in the center of the room.

“You will all line up and use destruction magic on the paper. Those who fail to do so will fail today’s class,” Gallah lectures.

I stay at the back, watching people's techniques as they go. They exchange a magical source as they switch. Some have specific movements or vocal chants to help focus their will. Others complete the exercise without strain, flippantly raising the stone to disintegrate the paper. The paper ages in a moment until only dust remains. Little Gallah is in the latter group, finishing in a blink with a smile for me as he passes. I step forward moments later to take the focus.

The pebble of cut ruby has two parallel transference runes with a metal slightly lighter than my black rapiers. A rune that allows magic to travel through it. I focus on the paper, trying to turn my will to destruction as Mage Gallah instructed. I hold up my hand with the gem. Nothing happens. I shift into a root stance, moving my lips in a concentration mantra: Will rules mind. Will rules body. Will rules all. Still nothing. I look to destruction, the desire to express anger. A roiling boils just under the surface. Foggy wisps of my incompetence float around, seeping into my fortitude. Still, nothing happens.

“That is long enough, and we have much to cover, initiate Vesh’dan.” They spit my name on the floor as they snatch the paper.

“I-I-I’m-”

“Please do not embarrass yourself further,” Mage Gallah dismisses while my peers snicker.

“Yes, Mage.” I relent, handing over the focus.

We move from paper to a peach, which everyone succeeds at. Then a hunk of routwood from the western coast. I know this wood has a higher affinity to creation magic, making it reluctant to destruction magic. At least this increase in challenge leads to more people joining me in ineptitude. We end with a chunk of iron, only affected in small degrees by Little Gallah and three others. As he returns to his seat, his boisterous strut curdles my compassion, destructive thoughts raging.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Now you see the distinguishing characteristics of a true destruction practitioner.” Mage Gallah lectures, flicking their hand at the iron, a pile of rust flakes appearing in its wake. “It is best to know one’s place,” they reiterate their prejudices.

The humiliation questioned my confidence for the rest of the week. How could I succeed here? Even the test that got me in wasn't 'properly' done. I am here, yet I don't belong. My next practical class is in mental magic. The stone room differs from the one used for destruction magic: half the space with as many visible transference runes and one barrier rune surrounding two floral cushions.

“Vesh’dan, what a pleasure to see you. Please sit.” Mage Randor greets from a cushion, gesturing to the other.

“As well you, Mage Randor. I can't imagine you’d have the time to instruct me personally.” I return, sitting on the designated cushion.

“That I have disputed, whereas my choice is not,” they inform.

“Well then, let us not waste your time.” I offer, mimicking their cross-legged position.

“Let us. Picture a room in your mind, the first one that comes; grab it. Place yourself inside of it. Start filling in all the details about the room. The shade of the wood, how the sun moves through it, and the feeling of the walls. Every aspect will come in time; inform me when you have a basic room constructed. Do not let fai-”

“I have it ready,” I giddy, interrupting them.

My room recollects before me. The curtained-off portion of our farmhouse is barren of frivolity. An end table, with one properly working shelf holding the handful of outfits I possess. A chipped, unpainted clay bowl atop it. The bed isn’t comfortable, as straw beds are like to be, but it fits my needs and mine all the same. I can even hear floorboards creak as I cross to wash my face in the morning. My eyes open to Willows’ Grove.

“You are? Oh, okay. Now, I will attempt to connect with you. Once you feel my presence, allow me inside,” they instruct.

“What can you do once you are inside?” I hesitate.

“You control your mind; never let anyone convince you otherwise,” Mage Randor warns.

“So you can control me?”

“If you let me,”

“Alright, begin.” I consent after a moment, comforted by the honesty.

The probe is distinguishable, yet nothing changes. The pull allures; someone is outside to meet me, wanting in. I close myself to the intentions of the call to pinpoint the purpose. They wish inside. I harden the walls of my mind by dissociating from the world, opening a door that goes to this room only.

"Well, you are picking this up quickly. Good, go-" the Mage applauds upon entering.

“Is there a problem?” I ask, picking up on a shift.

“The detail is exquisite, these books,” they admire, picking up one of the two I’d left on my bed for my father to return. “Blessings of creativity. I have not read this in a while, but the information is accurate. Even the historical dates; when did you have time to construct all of this?”

“It came rather easily. I also had very few reading materials, so I re-read them often. But this isn’t magic, is it?”

“Sorry if this is disappointing, but this is magic. Your start is efficient, as it requires no more effort from me. I will permit you to advance this and recommend looking into The Compendium of Internal Projection, a great starting point. You have the room for a couple more hours. Do you have any questions?”

“Uhh, a few. What exactly can I make here?”

“Hmm… I believe answering that question will limit your capabilities. Honestly, you can make anything imaginable.”

“Can my magic manifest inside of here?” I continue.

“Why not try?”

I find intensity in their green eyes, belying their vocal pattern. I imagine my right hand turning into willow bark. The feathery texture of the wood and the spongy bark as I caress a willow tree. A tingling sensation in my fingers opens my eyes to bark resembling a willow covering the top portions of my fingers. I revere my hand, using the other to trace the bark on my skin.

“Manifesting should be much easier here, not requiring the same amount of resources. Costs will diminish your ability to replicate that effect outside of here. Also, as it is all your thoughts, you could imagine yourself made out of wood, and you would be, but it will not require the same magic as converting your body to wood outside of here. Your other question?”

“Yes, will any regular maintenance be required?”

“Some need to brush up on things so they are not lost; I have heard of neglected rooms disappearing or needing recollection. Though I imagine you will not have as much trouble in this area,” Mage Randor assures.

“Is this similar to the entrance exam?”

“Hmm… Yes, in the sense that it is on the ethereal plane. The differentiating factor is the medium on which access relies. The mind's access is a facsimile of the control of a mind crystal,” Mage Randor explains.

“Ethereal plane?”

"The Compendium will cover that. Anything else?"

“Can this be used to increase my productivity?”

“I have heard of people being able to put their subconscious mind inside their palaces. I don’t see many applications when you can only generate things you already know.”

“Thank you, mage, you have given me much to think about.”

“Do not think too hard,” Mage Randor jokes, lightening the warning.

I look around my room while considering what I wish to create. With memories of home fresh in my mind, I finish recreating my father's farm. My favorite memories are in late spring, just before harvesting. The produce colors the consistent avenues. I amble the fields, sliding my fingers across each stalk of wheat until I can feel the grains scratching them. My mound comes like a breeze, a view I had meticulously inspected for most of my life chokes me with longing as willows choke the horizons.

After leaving the practical, I embarked on a journey to discern mage Crucus’s vague direction to the practical workshop. Non-specific indicators include, ‘Turn right at the best soup shop, second left after that weird smell, and go around the shady alley.’ Adjacent to the workshop, I miraculously found an older pale attending a storehouse with a demeanor that lends little to building bridges.

“Beat it. It is a components storehouse,” they greet.

“I am aware. Do you need to see my permit?” I offer, pulling out the tube.

“Well, yes… The seal looks accurate. How many units will ya need?” they admit, throwing me a curveball.

“Uhm…”

“The tubes?”

“Ten?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Ten,” I state forcefully.

“Alright. Alright then. The big hot shot needs ten tubes.” They accept with a slight smile, leaving for a moment before returning with a brown sack.

“Anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

The workshop appears disused but maintained. Pulling out the second volume of artificial amalgamations and flipping to the beginning of the workshop chapter, I start reading. The beginning of the eleventh chapter has a labeled diagram of an engraving station. Firstly, I activate a rune that will start heating the engraving tool. Examining the activation rune gives little information; similar to the casting stone, it has two parallel transference runes. The tool's handle is worn smooth, with six inches of flat metal constituting the blade. A barrier rune prevents the heat from moving down half of the edge, keeping the tip hot. Finally, a wire connects the butt of the tool to the table.

The runeprint pins to a board attached to the wall reveal a simple design, five transference runes stretching the outer length of the tube. The spacing will be the most challenging part, as they need to be equidistant. Several hours of meticulous work generate a manageable result. Balduan’s instruction on engraving gave me a healthy base understanding of how to succeed with five of the ten tubes.

I move to the area for cleansing, a stone trough that holds plain water. Water has natural mana-absorbing qualities, making it helpful in this process. The problem here is simple: how do I put my magic into this object? My only idea involves enclosing my hand around the tube, putting it in my hand. Not only does this not cleanse the metal, I can't even sense the magic in the object. Fuck! After an hour of attempts, I break. I need a technique that works internally without connecting to the mana. I am not able to practice any runes.

I leave the workshop without achieving much for the shack that holds my death magic class. I fume at the absurdity of my problem. I have this thing that I should be able to do but can't. Not only that but if I fail here, I will be back at square one again. At the back, I find Crucus leaning over a table with several lights and a magnifying glass. He finishes his work in moments, sighing as he lifts his tool.

“Hello, mage Crucus.”

“Who? Vesh. Yes, hello,” he jumps.

“Is that part of the project?”

“Another thing you cannot ask is what it is. Well, tell me of the progress you had.”

“Not farther than engraving. I have had no success in cleansing. I have also failed most practical magical lessons. I can feel my will, but it won't leave me.”

“Yes, I have never heard of anything like this before. For death mages’ cleansing is the easiest of tasks, most innately do it…” Mage Crucus vocalizes, pondering the problem. “Could be that you just can not… Yes— well. Treatise Atypicality: A work on aberrational matters in magical mutations,” Crucus offers after a moment.

“And I can gain access to this?”

“Yes, that is another question. I will see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Mage Crucus. Will I still be useful if I cannot cleanse and infuse?”

“No,” Mage Crucus confirms.