The morning air outside was cool, the kind that hinted at an approaching storm. By the time Soya and the others arrived at the Elemental Magic classroom, the air inside already felt charged, as if the room itself had been waiting for them.

The classroom was one of the more expansive spaces at Austramore, with a high domed ceiling lined with stormglass, enchanted to absorb and dissipate excess energy. The walls bore faint scorch marks, lingering evidence of past lessons that had gotten out of hand.

Professor Enara Kalden stood at the front of the room, her deep crimson robes flowing with a commanding presence. Her sharp features carried the same intense focus they always did, her wand resting lightly against her wrist.

As the students settled, she raised a hand, and the room immediately hushed.

“Lightning,” she began, her voice carrying effortlessly, “is unlike any other element. It does not wait. It does not linger. It moves, it strikes, and it is gone.”

She motioned with her wand toward a floating metal disc at the far end of the room.

“Fulgaris Arc!”

The incantation left her lips with sharp precision, and the spell responded immediately—a streak of violet-blue lightning leapt from her wand, striking the target dead center. The impact sent a sharp snap through the air, leaving behind a faint ozone tang.

“Today,” Kalden continued, lowering her wand, “we will be working with Fulgaris Arc—a lightning spell that channels energy into a controlled strike.”

Kalsei grinned. “So, we’re shooting lightning? That’s the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

Kalden’s gaze snapped to him, unimpressed. “If you cast without control, Detra, you will not hit your target—you will hit the nearest object that can conduct magic.” She paused, letting that sink in. “That object is often another student.”

Kalsei’s grin dimmed slightly.

Davonte leaned over. “I love how she basically just said ‘lightning wants to electrocute you specifically.’”

Kalden ignored them both. “To cast Fulgaris Arc, you must focus your energy into a single, unwavering point. It is not about force—it is about precision.”

She raised her wand again, this time deliberately slowing the process.

“The incantation is Fulgaris Arc. You must speak it with purpose—hesitation will break the spell’s flow.”

She demonstrated again, her wand tip steady, her voice firm.

“Fulgaris Arc!”

Another arc of lightning shot forward, crackling through the air before striking a second floating disc with perfect accuracy.

“The spell is quick,” she said, lowering her wand. “If you hesitate, you will miss. If you force it, the result will be unpredictable.”

Soya felt his pulse quicken. He wasn’t bad at precision magic, but lightning spells had a way of amplifying mistakes. He exchanged a glance with Draven, who simply murmured, “This will be… interesting.”

Kalden gestured toward the floating discs lining the far end of the room. “Each of you will take a position. Channel your energy, guide the spell, and hit your mark. Begin.”

Soya took his position in front of one of the floating metal discs, his wand held loosely at his side. The faint crackling of residual lightning hummed in the air around them as students spaced out across the room, some adjusting their stances, others glancing uncertainly at their targets.

Professor Kalden strode between them, hands clasped behind her back. “Fulgaris Arc is not a brute force spell,” she reminded them. “It requires a clear path for the energy to follow. If you rush the casting, the spell will scatter. If you hesitate, the charge will collapse.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Kalsei muttered under his breath.

Kalden stopped directly behind him.

“Is that so, Mr Detra?”

Kalsei stiffened slightly. “I mean… in theory?”

Kalden arched a brow. “Then you will be the first to attempt it.”

Soya saw the exact moment Kalsei realized his mistake.

To his credit, he recovered quickly, rolling his shoulders as he turned to face his target. “Right, sure, no problem.”

Davonte, standing a few feet away, grinned. “This is going to be great.”

Kalden stepped back but kept her sharp gaze locked on Kalsei as he raised his wand. He took a breath, squared his stance, then flicked his wand toward the target.

“Fulgaris Arc!”

A crackle of energy snapped around the tip of his wand, but instead of shooting forward, the lightning veered off course almost immediately, arcing wildly toward the nearest object—

Davonte.

“Oh, come on!”

The moment the wayward lightning bolt surged toward him, Davonte threw himself sideways, narrowly avoiding an accidental electrocution. The bolt hit the wall behind him, leaving a scorched black mark against the stone.

Kalsei winced. “Oops.”

Kalden sighed. “Mr Detra, what did I say about forcing it?”

Kalsei rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I, uh… might’ve put a bit too much into it.”

Kalden turned toward Davonte, who was brushing himself off. “Mr Evander, since you are already warmed up from avoiding disaster, you will go next.”

Davonte sighed dramatically. “Fine, but if I set myself on fire, I want it noted that this wasn’t my fault.”

Soya smirked. “It never is.”

Kalden gave him a sharp look. “Mr Vareen, you will follow Mr Evander.”

Soya felt a small knot of nerves tighten in his chest but nodded.

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Davonte raised his wand, twirling it once between his fingers before pointing it at the floating disc. “Alright, lightning, don’t betray me.”

He took a breath.

“Fulgaris Arc!”

A bolt of blue-white electricity shot from his wand, this time hitting the target—but barely. The energy sputtered at the last second, bouncing weakly off the edge before dissipating.

Davonte frowned. “That felt… weird.”

Kalden nodded. “Your control was better, but you hesitated at the moment of release.”

“Bit rude,” Davonte muttered.

Kalden’s expression remained neutral. “If a spell cannot handle criticism, it is a poor spell.”

Soya exhaled slowly, stepping up next. His grip on his wand was steady, but something about the spell’s mechanics felt different than what he was used to.

Lightning was unpredictable. It didn’t move in straight lines like fire or water—it searched for the fastest way down, for the closest point of contact.

Soya didn’t want to mess this up.

He raised his wand, his eyes locked onto the floating disc.

The magic buzzed against his fingertips, eager to be released.

“Fulgaris Arc!”

The moment he cast, he felt it—the charge surging forward. A sharp, electric snap rang through the air as the lightning shot from his wand, striking the target dead center.

Sparks rippled outward from the point of impact before fizzling into nothing.

Kalden watched him carefully. “Not bad.”

Soya exhaled, trying not to look too relieved.

Draven, standing at the station beside him, tilted his head. “You adjusted the current mid-cast.”

Soya hesitated. “Yeah… kind of just felt like it needed correcting.”

Kalden narrowed her eyes slightly. “Interesting.”

Soya wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

Kalsei clapped him on the back. “Alright, show-off, leave some skill for the rest of us.”

Kalden ignored them. “Again. All of you. Until you get it right.”

The students practiced for some time, the air in the Elemental Magic classroom crackled faintly with residual energy as the students wrapped up their final attempts at casting Fulgaris Arc. The floating targets had taken their fair share of scorch marks, and a few unfortunate chairs had been singed in the process.

“Enough,” Professor Kalden announced, her sharp gaze sweeping the room. “Some of you have managed passable execution of the spell. The rest of you…” She let the silence stretch for a moment. “Let’s just say we are fortunate no one was hospitalized today.”

Kalsei grinned. “That sounds like a victory to me.”

Kalden didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, she simply dismissed the class with a flick of her hand, her robes swishing as she turned away.

Soya exhaled, tucking his wand back into his robe as the class began to shuffle toward the door.

“I’d say that went well,” Davonte said, stretching his arms.

“You almost got electrocuted,” Tiana reminded him.

Davonte waved a hand. “Details.”

Kalsei slung an arm around Soya’s shoulder. “Friend, that was impressive. You have actual lightning aim. If we ever need to cook something in a hurry, you’re on it.”

Soya rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Draven fell into step beside them as they made their way down the hall. “Lightning magic isn’t something you can fake your way through,” he said, “which makes your success more interesting.”

Soya gave him a look. “You say that like I don’t try in class.”

Draven simply hummed. “It’s not effort I’m questioning. It’s your instinct.”

Before Soya could reply, Kalsei clapped his hands together. “Alright, serious discussion time.”

Tiana sighed. “That’s never a good sign.”

“I vote we eat as much as physically possible at lunch,” Kalsei continued. “Magic burns a lot of energy. It’s our responsibility to replenish it.”

Davonte nodded sagely. “That’s a valid argument.”

Tiana pinched the bridge of her nose. “You just want an excuse to overeat.”

Kalsei grinned. “That too.”

Soya shook his head as they entered the Great Hall, the scent of roasted meats, fresh bread, and warm spices filling the air. The enchanted ceiling above them reflected a cloudy sky, though no rain had started falling just yet.

As they settled at the Thylacea table, Davonte immediately reached for a plate of roast chicken. “Alright, new topic—worst spell failure you’ve ever seen.”

Kalsei laughed. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Soya smirked, taking a slice of bread. “I’m assuming we’re not counting today’s class?”

Davonte pointed at him. “No, outside of today. Let’s hear it.”

Draven sighed. “Are we really doing this?”

“Yes,” Kalsei and Davonte said at the same time.

Soya thought for a moment. “I think mine is still the shrinking potion incident.”

Kalsei leaned forward, intrigued. “Oh? Do tell.”

Soya smirked. “Let’s just say… someone misread the ingredient ratio, and we ended up with a room full of six-inch students.”

Kalsei choked on his drink. “No way.”

“Oh, yeah,” Davonte confirmed. “It was horrifying at first, but after we stopped panicking, it was kind of fun.”

Draven, unimpressed, muttered, “Fun is not the word I would use.”

Kalsei grinned. “That’s it, I need to hear more of these stories.”

Tiana sighed, though there was a faint trace of amusement in her expression. “You’ll regret saying that.”

Before long they finished eating and made their way to their next class.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom hummed with an unsettling energy, the kind that made the air feel heavier than usual. Soya had felt it the moment they stepped inside, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the upcoming dueling lesson or the fact that Professor Marilla’s sharp gaze seemed to linger on certain students more than others.

The class gathered around the dueling platform, tension thick as Marilla’s piercing eyes swept across them.

“Dueling,” she began, “is not about bravado. It is not about proving who is stronger. It is about discipline, precision, and knowing when to strike.”

Her gaze flickered toward Sevrin Verelle. Then, to Davonte Evander.

Soya tensed.

Draven sighed quietly. “This should be interesting.”

Marilla’s lips curled into something almost amused. “Evander. Verelle. You will be the first pair.”

A ripple went through the class.

Sevrin looked completely unbothered, stepping onto the platform with the confidence of someone who had never once considered losing. His robes were pristine, his stance effortless. He didn’t even glance at Davonte.

Davonte, by contrast, adjusted his sleeves, flashing a lazy grin. He had been training with Soya for weeks.

As the two faced off, a sudden, dramatic voice echoed from the back of the class.

“AND SO BEGINS THE GLORIOUS BATTLE OF OUR TIME!”

The entire class turned toward the source.

Davonte’s ferret.

Perched proudly on Kalsei’s shoulder, it stood upright, tiny paws gesturing as if addressing an invisible audience.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WITNESS NOW AS THE GREAT DAVONTE EVANDER FACES HIS MORTAL FOE!”

Marilla’s expression remained unreadable, but the twitch in her jaw suggested she was deciding whether or not to incinerate the rodent.

Sevrin’s eye twitched. “Get rid of that thing.”

Davonte held up a finger. “First of all, how dare you.”

The ferret continued undeterred.

“BEHOLD, THE MIGHTY EVANDER, HERO OF THE COMMON PEOPLE, READY TO FACE THE WRETCHED TYRANT—”

“Bow,” Marilla cut in sharply.

Sevrin barely inclined his head. Davonte grinned, bowing deeply—with an exaggerated flourish for effect.

Marilla raised her wand. “Begin.”

Sevrin moved first.

“Lumos Maxima!”

A brilliant flash of light exploded across the platform, blinding everything in its path.

Davonte, already predicting some nonsense, threw up Protego, shielding himself instinctively.

Unfortunately for Sevrin, the sheer brightness of his own spell also temporarily obstructed his own vision.

The ferret gasped dramatically.

“A BLINDING LIGHT STRIKES THE FIELD! A DIRTY MOVE FROM VERELLE! BUT WAIT—WHAT’S THIS? THE HERO STANDS UNYIELDING!”

Sevrin, recovering quickly, followed up with:

“Expulsum Infernalis!”

The red-hot concussive blast shot forward—only to slam into Davonte’s shield instead.

The impact crackled through the room, but Davonte remained completely unharmed.

Kalsei whistled. “Not bad.”

Sevrin scowled.

The ferret leapt onto Draven’s shoulder, continuing its commentary.

“A SHOCKING MISFIRE! VERELLE, SHAKEN! OUR HERO, UNTOUCHED! COULD IT BE? HAS EVANDER BEEN SECRETLY TRAINING?”

Davonte smirked. “Alright, let’s try something fun.”

Soya knew that tone—it was never a good thing.

Davonte raised his wand, focusing on the platform beneath Sevrin’s feet.

“Depulso Maxima!”

A shockwave burst outward, enhanced far beyond the normal strength of Depulso.

Sevrin had no time to react.

The spell hit the ground beneath him, launching him straight off the platform—into the waiting arms of Grundle Strang.

The entire class gasped.

Sevrin landed awkwardly against the massive half-giant, who caught him without the slightest bit of effort.

The ferret lost its mind.

“UNBELIEVABLE! VERELLE TAKES FLIGHT! GRUNDLE STRANG, UNWITTING SAVIOR! THE CROWD ROARS—”

Sevrin struggled violently. “Put me down, you overgrown—”

Grundle, completely unfazed, set him gently on the ground. “You’re welcome.”

Sevrin’s face was burning with humiliation. His hands clenched into fists, his entire body radiating fury.

Marilla tilted her head, watching carefully.

“Depulso Maxima,” she murmured, considering the spell. “You modified the casting structure.”

Davonte shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea.”

There was a long pause. Then—Marilla smirked.

“Interesting.”

Sevrin looked like he wanted to set the entire room on fire.

Soya caught Davonte’s gaze and grinned.

The ferret stood proudly, dramatically lifting a paw.

“AND SO, A HUMILIATING DEFEAT! SEVRIN VERELLE, STRIPPED OF HIS DIGNITY! EVANDER, UNTOUCHED! A LESSON IN PRIDE, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!”

Marilla exhaled sharply.

“Evander. Remove the rodent from my classroom.”

Davonte, still riding the high of victory, picked up the ferret and cradled it against his chest. “You’re just mad it tells the truth.”

Marilla didn’t dignify that with a response.

Sevrin, face still burning, shoved past them as he stormed out of the room.

Soya leaned toward Davonte. “So, that was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Kalsei nodded sagely. “I think we just witnessed history.”

The ferret squeaked proudly.

“HISTORY INDEED! A DAY TO BE REMEMBERED!”