With only a grumbling stomach to distract him, Kor dived into “The Fundamentals of Mana,” “Basic Mana Control,” and “The Art of Attack.” Years of academic discipline fuelled his rapid reading, and the words seemed to leap off the page, pulling him deeper into the world of magic.
By the time he finally dozed off, his head buzzed with new concepts—sensing, gathering, and controlling mana, as well as barrier techniques and the basics of forming mana spheres. Hints of advanced specialisations beckoned from the final chapters, but for now, fundamentals came first.
The next morning, Kor rose early, his nerves buzzing with anticipation. Terra Firefall’s class was first on his schedule. As he entered the quiet room, he returned to his previous seat in the back row.
Lena, the dark-haired Netharian girl, had already arrived. She offered him a subtle nod as he fumbled to unpack his books. “Darkness fend.”
“Uh, good morning,” he said, and she smiled back.
His pulse quickened, and a knot of nerves clenched in his stomach. He opened his mouth to continue the conversation, but Lena had already turned back to her notes. An uneasy silence fell between them as more students drifted in, adding a subdued energy to the room.
When Terra Firefall entered, the atmosphere shifted. Her fiery red hair, streaked with gold, seemed to catch the light as she strode purposefully to the front. Though less flamboyant than in their previous session, her energy still filled the room. She opened the lesson with a confident explanation of mana sensing and gathering, her voice lively and engaging.
Mana sensing, she explained, was mostly intuitive. It could be honed through practice, becoming a second nature to seasoned spellcasters. Gathering mana, however, required focus and discipline.
“All creatures who use mana will naturally replenish their stores over time,” she said, chalk poised above the board. “With the mana density on Conflux being so high, even the smallest creatures can restore their reserves without effort. But for us, the process can be accelerated.”
Kor nodded along, his eyes fixed on the chalk as it danced across the board, guided not by Terra’s hand but by the invisible tendrils of her mana. The flowing script seemed alive, illustrating her points with clarity.
Terra turned to the class, her amber eyes gleaming with challenge. “Now then, for any spellcaster wishing to restore their mana quickly, how might they go about it?”
“Meditation?” ventured one of the students.
“Yes,” Terra agreed, “but it’s more than just sitting quietly and focusing on your thoughts. True meditation requires you to feel the mana around you and draw it in. It’s a technique you’re all capable of—simple to learn but demanding to master. To open yourself to larger flows of mana, you must understand how your body absorbs it. You’ll need to explore the sensations, delving into the barriers that restrict its flow.”
She paused, holding the class in rapt attention before continuing, “Imagine water seeping through paper,” she said. “Yes, there’s a barrier, but the water still gets through. Punch a hole, and water rushes in freely. Right now, you’re all just sheets of paper. With time and practice, you’ll become conduits, tapping into the rivers of mana that flow everywhere.”
A low chuckle rippled through the room, and Terra held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, maybe not my finest metaphor,” she said, flashing an infectious grin. “But you get the idea.”
Kor couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension in his chest easing slightly.
As the class drew to an end, Terra clapped her hands together, her tone shifting back to business. “For next week’s homework, I want you to partner up with another student and focus on sensing their mana. Your goal is to feel their unique mana signature from at least two feet away.”
Kor blinked. Homework? Wasn’t that just for school kids?
The room erupted into lively chatter as his classmates began partnering up, the air buzzing with excitement. Kor’s stomach twisted as he realised he was still sitting in the back row, and so was Lena. He glanced over, finding her wide-eyed gaze already on him. The shared moment of realisation made his nerves flare.
“Uh, do you… want to partner up?” he offered tentatively, his voice barely steady.
Lena hesitated, then nodded. “Alright.”
“When, um, when would be a good time?” he asked, his face flushing as the words tumbled out awkwardly.
“Nethday,” she replied without missing a beat.
The weekend then. Kor nodded, relieved they’d settled on a time. After agreeing to meet outside Ether’s Archive at midday, the class ended, and Kor set off for the practice fields again.
By now, he had almost got the basic sphere down. Since his poor showing in combat class, he felt as if he’d made a leap in understanding. Whether it was from observing other students or sheer persistence, it didn’t matter.
Heading over to the tree he’d used last time, Kor noticed even more students scattered across the field. He settled down and glanced around, hoping to avoid another mana sphere to the head. Perhaps the barrier built into his student badge might protect him, but he’d need to find out more about its capabilities before trusting it completely.
Practical Spellcraft started with Professor Moss dividing the students into groups once more. This time, Kor approached Moss directly. “Professor, I can form a sphere now. May I join the others?”
Kor nodded and extended his hand. Mana trickled into his palm, hesitant at first, then faster as his concentration deepened. The sphere took shape – unstable, more suggestion than substance. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he fought to hold the wild energy in place.
The edges of the spell flickered like candlelight in a breeze, threatening to dissolve. But with each passing heartbeat, the form grew more defined. More real. Kor’s fingers trembled with the strain of stabilising it. Moss watched in silence, his expression carved from stone as Kor poured every scrap of his control into keeping the sphere from unravelling.
At last, Moss sighed. “Fine. Move over.”
Kor’s brief grin melted as Moss shook his head. “Don’t get cocky. Any child can manage that. Now get over there with the others.”
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Kor trudged over, his grin faltering but not extinguished. Talen greeted him with a thumbs-up, and Kor settled beside him. His first step! He glanced back at the other Lexicans still struggling across the room, reminding himself of what a defeatist attitude would achieve.
The rest of Professor Moss’ class passed without issue. Despite Kor’s shaky control, he found the cube-like shape Moss assigned much easier than expected. By the end of the session, he could form a basic framework of the shape. But as he glanced at Talen, who hummed cheerfully while stacking multiple perfect cubes atop each other, Kor knew he had only just begun his journey.
Talen and Kor headed back from class, the faint hum of conversation fading into the distance as they made their way along the Academy’s shaded paths. Kor hummed merrily, his steps lighter than usual.
“You’re like a plant who’s just seen the first light of spring,” Talen remarked, his tone laced with wry amusement.
“Huh?” Kor glanced at his friend in confusion.
Talen shook his head lightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’re in a good mood.”
“Sure am,” Kor said, grinning back. “Feels like I’ve started to catch up to the others.”
Talen’s expression softened. “That’s a good attitude to have, Kor, but you’ve only been studying magic for a few days. It’s going to take much longer to actually make some real progress. From what I gather, these first two weeks the professors are going slow, making sure some of the less-advantaged students have a chance to catch up.” He gave Kor a meaningful glance. “Provided they put in the work, of course.”
“You’re probably right,” Kor admitted. “But at least I’m not the worst in class anymore.” His grin turned infectious, and Talen chuckled in response.
“Have you given much thought to your electives, Kor?” Talen asked as they waited for a group of students to stop blocking the path.
“Not enough,” Kor admitted, frowning. “It feels like trying to solve an equation without all the variables. I’m only just starting to grasp the basics, and I’m supposed to choose my future?”
Talen nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps if you can learn a bit more about your specialisation, you might select courses that synergize with it.”
“Good advice.” Kor glanced down at his notebook, which he had tucked under one arm. He’d scribbled some haphazard thoughts earlier during class. His book, The Logos, seemed to be related to logic and those strange recursive symbols he’d been studying. “I think my book might give me some hints. It’s tied to logic, I think. But I’m still not sure how that connects to my magic.”
“Another thing you might consider is the archetypes and where you fit within them,” Talen added, his voice taking on a more thoughtful tone.
“What do you mean?” Kor asked, intrigued, as they turned a corner leading to a courtyard shaded by crystalline trees.
“Even magics of the same type aren’t all used in the same way,” Talen explained. “Take water magic, for instance. Some might wield it for combat—pressurised jets, crushing waves—whereas others might use it for support, with curative waters or even a healing rain. It’s the same element, but completely different approaches.”
“That’s a good suggestion, Talen,” Kor said. “But I still don’t even have a good feel for magic yet.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “It’s hard to know where I fit in when I’m still fumbling with the basics.”
“What is your specialisation, Talen?”
Talen raised an eyebrow, a wry smile creeping across his face. “It’s rude to ask another wizard about their specialisation, Kor.”
Kor rolled his eyes. “It’s also rude to poke a big boy’s stomach. Besides, aren’t we only allowed to call ourselves wizards after graduating?”
“True,” Talen conceded, chuckling. “But don’t go around asking people directly. Even if it seems obvious, there are often important subtleties to a specialisation. The more you advance, the more you begin to peel back the layers and deepen your understanding.”
“Okay, okay,” Kor relented, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t ask a wizard about his specialisation.”
“Or a girl about her weight,” Talen quipped with a grin.
Kor narrowed his eyes in mock anger. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re fun to mess with,” Talen shot back, laughing as Kor groaned in defeat.
They passed a group of older students gathered beneath the shade of a flowering crystal tree, their robes marked with intricate embroidery denoting advanced years. The tree’s translucent blossoms refracted sunlight, scattering fragments of rainbow hues onto the cobblestones. Nearby, a group of first-years fumbled with mana control, their efforts producing sputtering, unstable spheres of light that fizzled out in bursts of energy. The occasional cheer or groan punctuated the otherwise tranquil atmosphere.
As they continued walking, the Nexus tower in the distance shifted. Its crystalline surface glowed briefly before transitioning from a pale red to a deep, royal green. The change caught Kor’s attention immediately. “I haven’t seen that happen before,” he exclaimed aloud. “Is it a good sign?”
Talen shrugged, eyeing the tower. “First time I’ve ever seen it change colour,” he admitted. “Weird, right? It almost feels… calming. Like the city’s mood just shifted.”
His voice dipped lower, thoughtful. “Some say the Nexus reflects the First Magus’s will. If that’s true… you have to wonder what it means.”
Kor tilted his head, intrigued but unsure. The cryptic remark left a strange heaviness in the air between them, and for a moment neither spoke, each lost in their own thoughts. Then, as if shaking off the mood, Talen nudged Kor with a grin. “Hey, have you heard about the upcoming duel between the Solarians and Mystrians?”
“Another?” Kor frowned. “I caught some of them fighting in the cafeteria the other day. Master Terrak wasn’t too impressed.”
“No,” Talen said with a shake of his head. “Nothing so petty as that. An actual duel between two of their best students.”
“Really?” Kor’s interest piqued.
“Yes. They’re second years now, supposedly among the top ten students last year. Ended the year with the same amount of credits on the leaderboard.”
“Is it a big deal? From what I gather, they’re always at each other’s throats.”
“In the grand scheme of things, probably not,” Talen admitted. “But it is a good chance to see some real action. If you’re interested, come with me to watch.”
Kor hesitated. His initial plan was to spend every spare moment poring over books and practising spells. But the thought of spending time with his new friend, coupled with the chance to see what the Academy’s top students were capable of, was tempting. If he wanted to climb to the top, it made sense to know what he was up against. Finally, he nodded. “Alright. Sounds like it’ll be fun.”
Talen’s grin widened. “Good. You’ll enjoy it, trust me.”
“Oh, I forgot. When is this duel?” Kor asked. “I promised to study with another… student on Nethday.”
Talen gave him a look of disbelief. “Already socialising, Kor? Didn’t take you for the type.”
“Professor’s assignment.” Talen nodded.
“You’ll be fine. It’s the day after tomorrow. Though we’ll have to get up early if we want good seats.”
“It doesn’t cost anything, does it?”
“Nah, one of the benefits of being a student. Crux Basin is on the edge of the Academy’s border with the wider city.”
“Crux Basin? Is that where official fights happen then?”
“Hah, I forgot how little you Lexicans know about the magical world.”
Kor was about to open his mouth in protest, but his friend was right. Most people at home really had little interest in magic.
“The Crux is where all the big-ticket fights happen. Most of them are recorded on crystal and re-broadcast on our home planets. Though that’s usually reserved for big events like the third-year tournament or even duels between professors.”
“Professors fight each other?” Kor asked, his brow furrowing. “That seems a bit unprofessional.”
Talen smirked. “It’s not just the students competing, you know. The more powerful professors tend to have more sway over the Academy. Take Master Terrak, for instance. He runs your combat class.”
“Ah. So he actually does have the power to disqualify us from the Academy on his own? I thought he’d been exaggerating his status a bit.”
“No, he would definitely do it. Even enjoys it, from what I’ve heard. He’s one of the toughest teachers. I’ve even seen some of his fights back home.” Talen’s expression grew more serious, his voice lowering. “Though even he’s just a sapling compared to the First Magus.”
“Saw the man fight just once.” Talen almost seemed to shudder at the memory. His voice dropped again, this time barely above a whisper. “His magic… it’s like the air itself changes, like the rules of the world bend around him. Even now, just thinking about it—it’s humbling.”
A quiet fell between them, broken only moments later by an exuberant first year sprinting past them.
“Okay, okay, you’ve got me intrigued, Talen,” Kor said at last, breaking the silence.
“Good. Just make sure you get up early, if you don’t want a vine to the gut.”
Kor shifted a pace away from his friend, watching playfully for any offensive vines.