"I see you haven't been wasting your time," the old woman said, after Altair came knocking on her door when the sun had just began rising in the Arcane Arcalis. He had been eager to continue his training, looking for a distraction from the events that had transpired in Ronel's apartment earlier. He had a lot of time to think about her predicament, and it irked him to no end to see his friend suffering like that. Alt also could admit to himself that he was being dominated by petty jealousy, even if Ronel was the actual victim here. He hated that there was this other boy that she was predetermined to end up with by forces beyond his reach, and the twisted society that made such arranged marriages a normal occurrence.

Finally, after moping around for a bit, he realized that this still didn't change anything for what lay ahead of him. If he became a hero and a prominent figure in the Kingdom, perhaps it wouldn't matter that he had no noble background, and maybe he would be able to exert enough influence to rescue his friend from this commitment.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Alt asked defensively, still debating whether she could read his mind.

"I am talking about the azure Origin Point in your core. Unless I am getting senile, it wasn't there yesterday," the witch clarified, puzzled at his reaction.

"Ah, this," Alt acknowledged in relief, telling his teacher about his experiments with water mana. "At the end, it all dissipated no matter how much I tried to hold it, but still, this looks similar to how the fire mana channel began to form. Is that what you meant by Origin Point?"

"Remarkable," the witch complimented his efforts, nodding. "What you were trying to achieve is nearly impossible to do in your world, so don't get discouraged."

Alt felt a sense of pride at being acknowledge for anything besides being good at studying.

"I will try my best. So, what are we doing today? More fire?" he asked, apprehensive at the prospect of spending even another second with the bustling flames in his face.

"Just enough to recharge whatever you lost in your world. Since it's only a single measly mana channel, you should be done well before you turn into a fried lobster again. Afterwards, it's time for some practical applications," she announced, while leading him towards the campfire they had used the previous day.

"By the way, I meant to ask... have you ever been to my world yourself?"

"Not physically, no," the witch replied, while lighting the fire.

"Then how do you know so much? You seemed to know about telephones and stuff, but this world appears to be rather primitive."

The witch threw him a disapproving look.

"Do not judge a book by its cover... you of all people should know that," she said.

"Sorry, that came out wrong... I meant, it looks like you guys don't need to use technology as much, being able to conjure stuff out of thin air and all," he clarified.

"Your guess is correct. About your question, I'll just quote the politicians from your world - 'no comment'."

"You are just making things worse," the teen boy replied with a sour look, frustrated at her mind games.

"Don't be impatient," the old lady offered him a gentle smile. "In due time, you will learn everything... more than you could have possibly imagined or wanted," she spoke, her lips curling down.

"Alright then," Alt said, trying not to delve too deeply into the meaning of her words. He sat a few feet away from the fire, which this time to his immense satisfaction wasn't surrounding him from all directions.

Closing his eyes, even without having to force his imagination, he was able to view the faint crimson particles flying chaotically from where he presumed the fire's inception point was. With every passing moment, the color of the particles intensified, and he began pulling them in towards his core, first one at a time, and soon graduating to manipulating whole batches. In just a matter of minutes, his mana channel was full to the brink, and the remaining particles without a home circulated freely in his core. He felt reenergized, although he couldn't be sure if that was an effect of the mana refill or from the tonic the witch had given him to fight his sleepiness.

"It's done," he stated. "Should I build more of these?"

"No, for now, let's save that space for the pure mana channels."

"Does this mean the space inside the core is finite? What would happen if my core was full to the brink and I tried to create more channels?" he asked the witch, a little afraid that she would again dismiss his questions, but he saw an approving look fleeting her wrinkled face, apparently appreciating his displayed curiosity.

"Every stage has a limit to how many channels you can fit in your core, which varies from person to person, so it's important to plan your development in advance, or else, by training blindly you can just shoot yourself in the foot. It's by pushing those limits, together with other conditions that one can advance to the next stage. Be aware that moving to the next level is not just a matter of pumping out new channels, so filling your core with the wrong type of veins too early can hamper your growth for a long time."

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The explanation resonated with Altair. He was also excited about the versatile possibilities of pure mana but didn't want to get his hopes up too much just yet in case he could not overcome the challenges his teacher warned him about.

"Alright, it's time for you to learn your very first spell," the witch announced, cracking a smile at seeing the teen boy who was now standing at attention, with his chin up, chest out and shoulders back, like a soldier on a parade.

"It's called Inferno," she added.

Inferno? With a name like that, it must be something devastating! Alt thought, trembling in anticipation.

She lifted her index finger and a small fire ball, the size of a moth materialized above the tip, slightly fluctuating from side to side.

That's it? Alt's expression couldn't hide his disappointment.

"Yes, that's it," the witch confirmed, startling him again by reading him like an open book. "You will need to train hard, so this...," she pointed at the tiny sphere with her other hand, "... becomes this."

She placed her palms together, and after moving the fire ball above her head, it began to grow in size, first becoming like a boulder, and then the size of her hut, until she released it and sent it soaring with a blast of crimson energy to the stratosphere.

"Whoa...," Altair was left speechless, and weak in the knees from the intensity of the generated heat. It was like seeing a comet in action.

"That was the same spell?" he finally asked.

"Indeed... the only difference was the amount of mana behind it... and also sixty years of training," she said, chuckling.

Alt's mood immediately soured. He didn't have sixty years, after all. No, his clock was ticking, and fast.

"Is that the extent of your resolve? What happened to carving your own path?" the old lady asked at his reaction.

"Sorry," Alt said, recomposing himself. "So, how do I start?"

"Inferno is a Rank I spell, meaning it consists entirely of elemental energy, and the only thing you need to do is to fuel your mana outwards fast enough to condense it into the shape you desire, while keeping the result under control so it doesn't explode in your face. Not much different from absorbing mana in the first place, just the other way around."

"Seems simple enough. Do I need to say the name out loud?" Alt asked.

"By the Creator, no," the witch said. "You don't want to be one of those people."

"Those people?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, those people, the ones who ramble the names of each attack for all the world to hear, therefore giving their opponent ample time to prepare and counter."

"Ah, you mean that," Alt said, remembering his previous Kamehameha attempt and cringed.

"For more complex spells, you can use mantras and incantations as aids to guide and shape your mana in desired patterns. Again though, it's better to keep your hand to yourself, so just pronounce them mentally."

Altair nodded in understanding. He opened his palm, and closing his eyes for concentration, began channeling the fire mana into his index finger. As more and more particles arrived, he began feeling a warm, tingly feeling. He tried to push more energy out at once, but it seemed his mana channel was so thin that a bottleneck was preventing it. He therefore had to focus extra efforts on not letting the mana he was releasing dissipate, bringing and concentrating it in a single point. Finally, the result of his efforts was visible to the naked eye, and a wild light was emanating at his fingertip. He was really doing it!

"Ouch," he complained, as the flame dispersed after his focus broke, leading to a tiny burn that was quickly turning into a blister. He had been under the impression that a person couldn't get hurt by their own spell but was quickly proven wrong.

Well, at least I learned that lesson now and not at a later point when I could really hurt myself.

"That is why we have to start in baby steps, as beginner mages are not so much of a danger to others as to themselves. It doesn't matter that the spell is small and nearly useless now. Focus on developing your control so that it becomes second nature to you."

"Okay. Do you mind?" he asked, showing her his finger. The blister and associated pain disappeared as soon as she flicked it with her own, which had flickered with a yellow glow.

Now that is a skill I really want to learn, Alt drooled at the prospect of being able to heal at-will his never-ending list of injuries that kept growing on a daily basis.

"Kids these days, can't deal with a little pain," the old lady said jokingly. "Alright then, it's time for the candle exercise." On the ground where a patch of grass was interspersed with rocks, she conjured a set of ten massive candle sticks in a line, with each extending all the way up to the teen boy's chin.

"And what am I supposed to do with them?" he asked, dumbfounded at the unusually large size of each candle, that would feel at home at the lair of a giant. He touched the wax to check its texture, surprised at how real they seemed.

"Why, you should light them up... and extinguish them... light them up... and extinguish them... until nothing remains."

"But that will take me hours... or probably days?" he asked, bewildered, unsure if she was being serious.

"That only depends on you. By the way, did I mention already that you can't leave until it's all done?"

"Wha... what? Why?"

Altair gulped at the prospect of spending the following days and nights in this God-forsaken forest. With great sorrow, he said goodbye to his hopes of asking Ronel out in what remained from the break. At least he had fulfilled his promise of packing Sattan's stuff before ending up here.

If only they had an idea of what I am doing here... what would they think?

"We only have a few days left before the Entrance ceremony. It's imperative that you master this exercise before you go. You will start behind your peers in almost every category, but if you show enough talent in mana control, the school will give you a chance."

"I understand," the teen boy replied, a firm resolve shining in his eyes.

"Cheer up. At least you won't need to spend quality time with the big bad fire to recharge your mana channel, as long as you do a proper job of absorbing back the candle flame."

"Thanks, that makes me feel so much better," he said, oozing sarcasm, which the old lady let slide.

"For brownie points, finish the task by sunset tomorrow. This way we will be able to have you dabble in pure mana, which will really come in handy to hide your deficiencies."

She sure doesn't pull any punches with her words, Alt thought, but from what he had seen so far, she was a harsh but fair instructor, so he was resolved to trust her methods. After all, if the experience from his own world was of any indication, then the students of the Arcane version from the Baignard Academy were bound to be the rising elite from the magical world, so he needed any advantage he could find to even the playing field.

"I'll leave you to it then," her eerie voice brought him out of his reverie.

"Wait... what about food and stuff?"

"Food? You will just have to do it like us, primitive peoples. Just catch it yourself," she replied, turning around to leave. This suggestion did nothing to reassure Alt's worries, as the biggest living being he had trapped before in his life was a cockroach, and even then, he just scooped it to throw out, not to cook and eat it.

I just have to hurry. If I finish quickly, this won't be a problem.