Kor stepped into Ether’s Archive, his boots tapping against the marble floor as a faint hum of mana prickled at his skin. The grand hall bustled with activity—students bent over ancient tomes at long tables, their quills scratching against parchment, while librarians flitted in and out of side aisles, carrying stacks of books that seemed to glow faintly with latent magic. Near the reception desk, a robed figure held an open book aloft, murmuring a spell. Kor’s eyes widened as the tome lifted itself from their hands, hovered for a moment, and then shot off down the central corridor of towering shelves.
Focusing with his nascent mana sense, Kor discerned the intricate weave of energy supporting the book’s flight, an almost invisible lattice threading through the air. “So that’s how they do it.” He said softly, awe tinging his voice.
A familiar prickle stirred the air around him—a warm, inquisitive presence brushing against his mind. Ether’s awareness, vast and layered, seemed to settle on him briefly before threatening to drift away again. “Hi, Ether. I don’t suppose you could help me with something?” His words tumbled out in a rush.
“I’ve unlocked my specialisation.” Kor moved to an unoccupied table. A wave of curiosity and focus rippled through him in response, drawing his attention inward for a moment. He passed a cluster of students immersed in their studies—one sketching arcane diagrams, another whispering incantations under their breath. The faint smell of parchment and mana ink hung in the air.
Seated now, he continued, “I was hoping you could give me some advice on picking a third elective. I’ve already got meta-casting and advanced combat, but I want to choose something that complements them. There isn’t a Mathemagics course or anything, is there?” His attempt at humour seemed to resonate faintly, a warm penumbra of encouragement wrapping around him.
A tug of mana brushed against Kor’s senses—a signal from Ether. He shot to his feet as the entity’s presence receded, leaving behind a faint trail of energy for him to follow.
The central aisle stretched before him, wide enough to accommodate bustling crowds. Students browsed the shelves, some coaxing books free with whispered spells, while others huddled over their finds at nearby tables, sharing discoveries in hushed tones. Older students lounged against the shelves, trading notes and muffled laughter. The atmosphere hummed with energy – this place truly was the beating heart of intellectual discovery.
Kor moved down the broad avenue, his footsteps muffled by the wine-dark carpet. Towering shelves stretched into shadow overhead, their ranks packed with books of every conceivable dimension, their spines illuminated with etched titles. The rich scent of aged paper filled the air, punctuated by the soft swish of librarians’ robes and the gentle whoosh of enchanted tomes gliding between the stacks. This marriage of magic and meticulous order both calmed and inspired him.
His thoughts wandered as he followed Ether’s trail. What kind of book would it guide him to? Fractals held such fascinating potential – their patterns echoed through nature itself, from delicate leaf veins to sprawling root systems to the very flow of mountain ranges. He needed to understand everything about them: the mathematics that governed their creation, the principles that gave them form. That brief trial of his power had shown promise – a barrier, perhaps – but defence alone wouldn’t be enough if he hoped to match the top students.
He caught himself getting ahead again. The Logos had only just revealed its secrets to him, yet he was already chasing new horizons. Still, surrounded by such vast knowledge, how could he not feel that spark of excitement?
The thought of Ether’s own collection tugged at his mind. Surely among those countless volumes there must be non-magical texts, perhaps even works of pure mathematics. The question burned in his throat, but he forced it down. His mind already juggled too many priorities; adding another would send them all crashing down. Yet the connection nagged at him – what were the odds that his magic would intertwine with mathematics? Was there something deeper there, some hidden truth? Did everyone’s magical affinity reflect something fundamental about themselves, like a mirror revealing what lay beneath the surface?
His musings dissolved as Ether’s mana trail drew him deeper into the Archive’s heart. The bustling energy of the central aisle faded like a receding tide, leaving behind pools of hushed silence. Where before students had clustered like busy bees, now he passed only occasional solitary figures bent over ancient texts. The soaring books appeared less frequently here, each one moving with deliberate purpose rather than the lively dance of before. Between the towering stacks, shadowed passages beckoned like cave mouths, promising secrets in their depths. The shelves themselves had changed, their frames carved from darker wood that seemed to pulse with contained power.
Ether’s spectral trail beckoned him onward. The air grew thick and heavy, laden with the accumulated weight of countless spells woven into the Archive’s bones over centuries. Kor quickened his pace, equal parts drawn forward by curiosity and prickled by unease as the vibrant atmosphere of the main hall surrendered to something older and more solemn – a silence that felt less like absence and more like waiting.
As he ventured deeper, flickers of light danced at the edge of his vision. At first, he dismissed them as tricks of the eye, but soon they appeared too often to ignore. Each flash made his steps falter, his breath hitch. A chill ran down his spine as he halted, his gaze locking onto a dimly glowing orb hovering a dozen feet away. The sphere pulsed faintly, its light casting shifting shadows on the floor. An unsettling sensation prickled at his skin, like the echo of an unspoken question.
He stumbled back, colliding with something solid. A sharp “Ahem” cut through the silence. Kor spun around to find Terra Firefall standing inches away, his cheeks burning as he scrambled backward.
“Sorry! Sorry!” His eyes darted over his shoulder. The glowing light had vanished, leaving only the oppressive weight of the Archive’s silence. More troubling still, Ether’s mana trail had disappeared with it.
Terra’s fiery eyebrow arched, amber eyes gleaming. “Something got you spooked? Few first years venture this far in search of knowledge.” Her casual stance couldn’t quite mask the alertness in her posture.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
She raised a hand, cutting off his response. Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face. Recognition bloomed across her features.
“You’re in my Fundamentals of Mana class!” Her lips curved into a smile. “Kor, isn’t it? Hah, remembering all your names is a bit of a challenge, but you stood out. The one who tackled Ether’s challenges without a lick of magical understanding, before his first class had even started.”
The foreboding atmosphere seemed to lift under Terra’s bright presence, and Kor felt the tension melting from his shoulders.
“You seeking hidden information, trying to gain an advantage over your classmates?” A playful grin accompanied her crossed arms.
Her boundless energy stirred memories of Viree, though he quickly pushed the embarrassing comparison aside.
“Ether guided me here. I think it was leading me to you.”
“Oh?” One eyebrow lifted delicately.
“I asked for advice on picking my final elective. I just unlocked my specialisation and wanted to make the right choice.”
“Oh! Fantastic.” Terra beckoned him to follow as she turned toward the Archive’s more populated sections. “Of course, I recommend Meta-casting, since I’m teaching it.”
“Yes, that and Advanced Combat are two of my choices. But I wanted to know if I should pick something specific to my specialisation.”
“A good thought, but perhaps a bit misguided.” Her voice took on a contemplative note. “This early on, you won’t have a clear sense of what you’re truly capable of. Most branches of magic are incredibly versatile, and it takes time and study to discover your path.”
She straightened, shoulders squaring. “Take fire mages, for example. Not all of them hurl fireballs around. Some refine their control to sear and cook food expertly. Others manipulate heat for precise experiments, creating new compounds. I’ve even heard of a fire mage who crafts illusions using heat waves to form mirages. The limits are based on the user’s imagination.”
Their footsteps whispered against the carpet as Kor mulled over her words. The oppressive atmosphere lifted with each step, pushed back by Terra’s vibrant energy.
“If you don’t mind me asking—” A conspiratorial smile played across her face. “What’s your specialisation? Professor’s promise—I won’t tell anyone.”
His eyes swept the empty corridor before answering. Ether seemed to trust her, and if he wanted genuine advice... “Fractals,” he murmured.
Her eyes sparkled. “Ooh, interesting! I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a fractal mage before. Closest I can think of is an Arithmatician—great at rituals and enchantments.”
She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “The better question for your elective is: what do you want to do with your magic? You’ve already got two essential courses covering the basics.”
They walked on in silence for a moment, nearing the more populated areas of the Archive. “Two options come to mind: Arcane Artificing and Connection Weaving,” Terra said.
“Why those?” Kor asked, unfamiliar with the subjects.
“Trying out different applications of your specialisation is vital to understanding it,” Terra explained. “Connection Weaving focuses on how mana interacts with people and its basic relationships. It’s excellent for synergy and collaboration. Arcane Artificing, on the other hand, is all about creating magical objects—sometimes entirely from magic, other times by imbuing existing items. It’s trickier, but some students even sell their projects.”
Kor’s eyes lit up. If he could earn money using his fractals, perhaps by designing barriers or tools, it would be a game-changer.
Terra laughed, the sound bright and infectious, seeming to brighten the surrounding air. “Seems like you’ve decided.”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “Thanks for the advice, Professor.”
“You’re welcome, Kor.” His gaze flicked to the large black pack slung over her shoulder, bulging slightly as mana seemed to seep from its edges. Whatever it contained pulsed faintly, restrained by the pack’s enchantments.
Curiosity burned in Kor’s chest. What had she retrieved from so deep within the Archive? He’d heard rumours about the dangers hidden in Ether’s depths. Were books all the Archive held?
Noticing his glance, Terra brought a finger to her lips in a gesture of silence, winking before she said, “I’ll see you in class, Kor. Good luck.”
“Thanks, Professor.” He slowed his pace, letting her stride ahead while questions bubbled beneath the surface. Focus. At least there wouldn’t be a second round of Ether’s testing. Relief washed over him as he pulled out his elective submission form near the entrance.
His pen hovered over the paper as he filled in his choices. Meta-casting. Advanced Combat. His gaze lingered before adding Arcane Artificing as his final selection. The empty space below seemed to whisper for another course, but he folded the sheet with decisive finality. Time to find Dean Velleth’s office.
The introductory booklet’s map revealed his next challenge – the Dean’s office perched near the summit of Spire Alpha. The elevator ride proved the least of his troubles. A serpentine queue of students wound through the corridor, all scrambling to submit their last-minute decisions. Hours crawled by before he finally reached the front.
The dean’s assistant barely glanced up as she scanned his student badge with a crystalline device. “Electives begin week after next. Gives us time to arrange timetables.”
His stomach growled in celebration as he descended from the spire, drawing him toward the cafeteria’s warmth. Rich aromas of roasted meats, spiced stews, and fresh-baked sweets wrapped around him. His elbow brushed against his stomach, sending a familiar pang of self-consciousness through him. The weight would have to go soon, but surely he’d earned one last feast?
Golden honeyed pancakes beckoned from behind gleaming glass. He’d grown used to Conflux’s more eccentric offerings – meals that bubbled and sparkled, sometimes even shifting colours mid-bite. His tray soon bore a platter of Netharian bird meat, the pancakes a guilty addition. Tomorrow the belt would tighten.
The central table’s far end offered solitude among the bustle. Smoky flavours burst across his tongue as he bit into the drumstick. Nearby, a cluster of Mystrian girls huddled close, their voices carrying.
“Have you heard about the strange creature on campus?”
“No, what is it?”
“Size of a dog, but with two tails and heads. Sweet tooth too – keeps breaking into the kitchens.”
Laughter rippled through their circle. “Not a Voidling, then?”
“Can’t be. Professors can’t even track it. Somehow got in from outside Conflux, hides from detection spells.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Professors don’t seem worried.”
A faint smile crossed his lips as he savoured his meal. He couldn’t wait to show Talen and Marcus what he could do. With some study, he might even be capable of creating plants? Pranking Talen with a plant of his own would be amusing, but he still lacked a proper understanding of mana fundamentals. How did one even go about creating a living organism with magic? His snowflake structure felt like solidified mana, not organic material.
A voice from across the table interrupted his musings. “You’re him!”
Kor’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. An eager-faced boy leaned across the table. “Who?”
“Snowflake boy!”
‘Divide me sideways!’ Heat crept up his neck. Had word spread already? Thousands of students on campus, and still — “I think you’ve got the wrong person.”
“No way, saw you running off myself.” The boy’s chest swelled with pride at his own observation.
“It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“Biggest thing I’ve seen a first year do. Must have really practiced that snowflake magic.”
Kor scraped the last honey-soaked crumbs from his plate as an idea crystallised. If they assumed his magic created snowflakes... perhaps that misconception could work to his advantage in combat classes. Maybe even maintain the illusion until the end-of-year tournament.
The boy’s eager retelling had already drawn a small crowd as Kor carried his dishes to the kitchen. A smile tugged at his lips.
Might as well go with it.