Like everything else at First, the coffee shop made good use of flux-integrated technology. There was no actual barista, the role instead taken by a factory line-like set of mechanical flux-assisted components that met any orders they made.

“Supposedly, there was a time where this,” Uriel said, gesturing at the coffee-making machine, “was capable through electronics alone.”

Syl nodded, accepting his black coffee from the machine. “Lost alongside Taiwan and our ability to produce semiconductors without flux, I assume.”

“Just like everything else,” Uriel sighed, warming her hands around her drink, a pink concoction of sugar and milk that could barely be called coffee. “Every now and then, I wonder what our world would have been like if we had all the technology of the world before.”

“Not that different, I’d imagine,” Syl said. “Flux engineering is as advanced as what we had then. Things might be different if we still had a global internet, but there are other reasons why that won’t happen again.”

“That’s true,” Uriel said. “You’d know best, as an engineer. You seem to know a lot about a good deal of fields.”

“I try to stay updated,” Syl said. “Engineering is what I’m best at, anyway.”

Uriel frowned, pausing to take a sip from her drink. “Ah, I love this stuff, but it’s not quite the same without real milk. I find it hard to believe that engineering is all you’re good at. I watched your duel, remember?”

“I already told you, I didn’t win that,” Syl said. “Drew lost it.”

“Still, you have an undeniable talent for practical magic,” Uriel said. “I’m told you and Bianca stopped a shooting from occurring during your class.”

“That was mostly Bianca.”

Uriel put her drink down, giving Syl a look. “Are you sure about that?”

“I am. Seems to me that you’re not.”

“I’m not convinced that someone like you is only what you say you are,” she said.

“I won’t deny that I’m talented,” Syl said. “Nor will I say that the class system is anywhere near perfect.”

“It’s what we have,” Uriel said automatically. From how robotic the response was, she’d been through this song and dance before. “There’s nothing the Reserve can do about it. Decisions are made above our heads by—“

Syl waved a hand. “I’m not here to be an activist. I’m telling you that I’m not that much more talented than any given class 1.”

“Now that’s the first blatant lie you’ve told me,” Uriel interjected. “In terms of natural talent, maybe. In terms of combat intelligence? No class 1 first-year would have had the combat intelligence and wherewithal to countercast Drew Violet. You have the intuition of a trained soldier.”

Syl didn’t flinch at her not-quite-an-accusation. “Bianca has that in spades as well. We train outside of class. Take Lyon Red or one of the other combat-oriented first-years and stick them in a ring, they might manage something similar.”

Uriel leaned forward over her drink, seemingly uncaring that strands of her dark blue hair were dipping into it. “I don’t think so.”

A pre-loaded spell pattern snapped into existence, traveling up from Uriel’s shoulder into her fist, and she lunged at him.

She stopped a mere inch from his face, freezing her magic and her body just moments from hitting him.

Syl pushed her glowing fist away with one finger, lifted his cup, and drank deeply from it.

“Projection-type A-class spell. Major Illusion. It’s a lot of flux, and it’s impressive that you can control it so well when it’s not even your specialty, but it wouldn’t have done anything to me.”

Uriel rolled her eyes, falling back into her seat and blowing her hair out of her face. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You read that spell pattern while I was throwing a punch at you and didn’t even blink. Hell, almost nobody in Reserve can do that, let alone year one. Look, Syl—honestly, I think it’s fantastic that you’re doing what you are. Have you looked into the tournament circuits?”

“Is that what you asked me here for?” Syl asked. “Bianca wanted to take a look when she was looking for extracurriculars, but they didn’t want anything to do with class 3s.”

“That can be fixed,” Uriel said. “A good chunk of class 1 and some of class 2 participate, and the Reserve joins in for certain events as well. There are a number of intra-academy tournaments that feed into the National Circuit.”

“That, I do know about,” Syl said. “Competitive dueling, Gate-breaking, and Tower climbing. Non-combat roles.”

“But very suited for someone specialized like you are,” Uriel said, tapping her leg under the table. “Some of our country’s foremost engineers are also National Circuit competitors. It gives power and resources in a way that just being Reserve or even achieving leadership on the front lines doesn’t.”

“It’s also meant for people who are good at casting, which I’m not,” Syl pointed out. “I would also draw unwanted attention as the only class 3 on First’s team, which wouldn’t be helped by the very real fact that I waould be strong-armed on.”

“You don’t seem to be concerned by what people think of you,” Uriel said. She batted her eyelashes at him in what was presumably supposed to be a flirtatious manner, taking another long sip. “And you don’t react to people the same way someone of your age would.”

“Then you have the wrong impression of me,” Syl said. He drained the rest of his coffee. It was just the right richness, helped along by the flux still maintaining the temperature and conditions of the liquid at exactly what it needed to be after coming out of the machine. “I do care. I’m just better at not showing it.”

Being on the circuit team would be a subpar idea in terms of keeping his power hidden, which made it a generally poor idea. Syl stood, ready to thank Uriel for the offer and decline it.

“Bianca is also joining,” Uriel said. “She confirmed it with me earlier. With her scores, there’s no doubt she’ll be able to pass the entry requirements.”

Syl stopped short, sitting back down.

Her eyes twinkled. “There it is. I knew you couldn’t be that stoic about everything.”

Syl sighed. “Of course Bianca would want to get involved. I suppose I’ll have to join either way, then. She won’t take anyone else as her engineer.”

“Fantastic!” Uriel clapped her hands together. “I hope you’ll be there next week, then?”

“What?”

“Didn’t you know? I’m the student head of our circuit team.”

“…Of course you are.”

She beamed at him.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Ah,” Syl said, remembering the reason why he’d come here in the first place. “About the gunmen.”

Uriel’s expression grew serious. “Of course. I assure you, that shouldn’t be a concern in the future. The Reserve’s security—“

“Save the excuses for someone that’ll be satisfied by them,” Syl said.

The Reserve officer winced. “That’s fair. We experience this kind of event from time to time, but fatalities are usually avoided.”

“Do you know who it was?” Syl asked. “It was a targeted hit on Lyon Red, but I don’t think he was the only target. There was at least one other shooter who got out without their gun being detected.”

“I have a number of guesses,” Uriel hedged. “There are a good number of groups that would pay good money to see a member of a prismatic family dead.”

“Do your guesses include the Red family themselves?” Syl suggested, only half-joking. “They have a history of not being the kindest to members of their family they consider to have failed.”

Uriel tensed. “That’s dangerous talk, Syl. I don’t mind, but it’d be best if you avoided it around the Reds.”

“I’m well aware,” Syl said. “Besides, this isn’t their usual method. If I had to guess…anti-academy group Sanguine?”

If she’d been tense before, that went double now. “How do you know that name? That information is—”

“Classified,” Syl finished. “Behind weak security. It just takes a bit of effort to get past that. If the prismatics and Auria itself wanted it to be more secure, they would have used more protection. Besides, Sanguine is only a moderate threat. They have, what, a few tactical-class magicians? One or two masters?”

Though there were more specific delineations of power within the ranks, they were broadly described as the letter tier—F through A—and then the titled tier, more formally known as “the only kind of magic that can win wars.” That was composed of tactical, master, strategic, and finally paragon.

“One or two masters is more than a lot of groups can manage,” Uriel said. “Out of everyone in the reserve, we only have five.”

“You, Waylan, Jennifer, and who else?” Syl asked, counting off the names he remembered from seeing them before.

“How did you—I shouldn’t be surprised by this anymore. Anyway, yes, Sanguine is our current leading theory for the event. We can’t confirm anything yet, but the Reserve, at least, is moving them up the threat list.”

“The Reserve,” Syl said. “Not the police or the military. You function as your own isolated unit.”

“That’s not a question, but yes. We serve the Aurian military, but for campus purposes, we do our best to resolve issues internally before involving the government.”

“Then I’ve got a request for you,” Syl said. “In return for having me join the circuit team.”

“Oh?” Uriel raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression this would be a favor to you.”

“It’s more for you than it is for me,” Syl replied. “I wouldn’t even consider it without Bianca being there. You’re good at keeping a consistent facade, but you do have tells. If you want to see more of my magic, you’re going to have to make concessions.”

“Tells, hmm?” She leaned closer to him, giving him a close-up view of the flux pattern in her eyes. “You’ll have to explain that to me. After you tell me about these concessions, of course.”

“It’s simple,” Syl said, once again ignoring her attempt to distract him. “Keep me informed. Don’t tell me the same half-truths the student body gets. If Sanguine or one of the other militant groups starts getting active on campus, I want to know. If the Reserve takes action, I want to know.”

“It sounds like you’d want to be there,” Uriel said. “Bold, from someone who was just telling me he wouldn’t be talented enough to be in in circuit.”

“I never said that. I can handle myself just fine in a battlefield. I don’t expect anything more than information, anyway.”

“I’ll need to see proof that you’re capable of surviving first,” Uriel said. “Come to the trials this weekend, and we’ll talk about this more.”

“Acceptable,” Syl said. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“You paid for both of us,” Uriel said drily.

“See you tomorrow,” Syl said, already leaving.

#

After the excitement of the first day, whoever had ordered the initial attack seemed to decide that it was better to leave it alone. No further shots were fired during any of the classes Syl was in, at least.

The theory classes proved to be wholly uninteresting. After getting embarrassed by him on the first day, the class 2 student professor had decided to act like he didn’t exist entirely, which was completely fine by him.

His magical engineering class, on the other hand, did provide something of value. Since most magicians at First were going on combat tracks, there were few enough on the engineering track that even a class 3 like him was able to get into the class, though there had been a bit of a waitlist. He suspected that Uriel might have had something to do with his presence here now, but he wasn’t complaining.

Creation was where his interests truly lay. He was a combat magician by necessity and by design, but it had always been the idea of magic as a tool to fix, not destroy, that had captivated him. Maybe that was just a constant amongst humans—wanting what they couldn’t have.

FENG 301—Flux Engineering and Energy Production—was a workshop-style class that had a total of thirty students in it. The actual principles that the professor spoke about were ones that Syl already understood more thoroughly than the professor himself, but the resources were top-notch, and they offered significantly more lab equipment than he had at his current residence. Sure, if he went on site into Incarnate halfway across the country, he could find material that was roughly equivalent, but he didn’t quite have the liberty to do that at the moment.

It was the fourth day of engineering class, and Syl had chosen to ignore the ongoing lecture to focus on his current project. He’d started designs for this during the last assignment he’d been on, but by the time he’d had the time to get working on it, he’d lost access to the resources necessary to.

“Mister Auria,” Professor Lyle, an older tactical-class magician, said warningly. He’d finished up with the lecture and was now circling the class, pointing out beginner mistakes in projects. Most everyone was working on a basic FCD mod, but Syl had wholly ignored it in favor of his project. “What exactly are you working on?”

Syl looked up, maintaining his hold on the single-process Shield and Vacuum spells that were currently making it possible to cold weld his flux device. “Disposable FCD. Those already exist in some cases if you stretch the definition of the term. Most modern hand grenades, for instance—“

“Have an isolated magical component, yes,” Lyle said. “Your assignment was not to build a hand grenade.”

“No, it was to make an FCD overcharge battery,” Syl recited. “A simple flux container that can inject further mana into a given spell to increase its power without damaging the device.”

“Very good,” the professor said. “But that is not what you’re creating.”

“Finished it before you started the lecture,” Syl said, taking his second FCD off and sliding it over to the professor. “Would you mind letting me work here? I’m trying to make a one-use FCD that doesn’t require a flux charge to activate. Wholly self-contained. Ideally we get to rechargeable ones eventually, but progress is measured in steps, not leaps.”

Lyle clicked his tongue disapprovingly, picking up the FCD. “You talk a big game, Mister Auria, but speed is the enemy of… wait… what?”

“It’s more efficient than a standard overcharge battery,” Syl said. “It saps wasted flux from any spell fired in the area to recharge itself and activate more intense spells. It’s a good twenty, twenty-one percent increase in spell effectiveness on average.”

“This is a patented Incarnate design, Mister Auria,” Lyle said eventually, setting it down. “I don’t know how you got an Incarnate FCD, let alone a custom one, but I can’t let you use it for this assignment. Furthermore, your design is theoretically impossible to make with a full lab, let alone on person.”

I know the theory here better than you, Syl thought. Instead of saying that, he said, “Both of my FCDs have the overcharge batteries already, but I’m more than willing to make a second one. May I borrow one of yours?”

“I have backups for this case,” Lyle said, shaking his head and drawing a tablet-style FCD from inside his coat. “All you need to do is ask, Mister Auria. Be honest with your assignments.”

“Is this one of your old ones?” Syl asked. “It’s used. Don’t bother answering that. Give me twenty minutes or so.”

The professor laughed out loud at that, drawing the eyes of everyone in the class. “Kid, if you can make even a regular overcharge battery in less than half an hour, I’ll let you teach the class.”

“Sure,” Syl said. “Let me set a timer.”

Lyle crossed his arms, looking down on Syl’s well-organized lab table with a haughty, unimpressed look.

That look slowly slipped off his face as Syl’s hands worked with blinding speed, using magic in combination with tools and flux wiring to construct the most basic Incarnate overcharge battery he could make.

“Twenty-two minutes, thirty-seven seconds,” Syl said eventually, passing the FCD back. “A bit more than I expected.”

He went back to his personal project, noting with some irritation that he’d dropped both spells facilitating it during the process of enhancing the test FCD.

That irritation was mostly wiped away by the look of sheer gobsmacked awe on Professor Lyle’s face.

“Excuse me, Professor,” Syl said politely. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to continue working now.”

A silent buzz from his FCD informed him that he’d gotten a message. While the professor was busy losing his mind, Syl opened it.

[RANK HIDDEN] [IDENTITY HIDDEN]: Informant points to a attack on First Academy within the next month from Sanguine. Almost certainly targeting the princess.

Syl frowned, typing a quick response back.

[RANK HIDDEN] Syl: Not going to preempt this?

[RANK HIDDEN] [IDENTITY HIDDEN]: They have cards up their sleeve. This will be the best time for them to play them early. Keep Bianca safe. Handle what you can. The Reserve already knows.

[RANK HIDDEN] Syl: Do they know about Bianca?

[RANK HIDDEN] [IDENTITY HIDDEN]: No. Do not compromise your mission. That is all.

Syl frowned as the messages hid themselves, then shrugged, returning to his FCD.

There’s nothing I can do for the time being. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.