Zar sat on a bench in the quiet, empty classroom, his gaze falling on the four high school students gathered before him.

“Already worn out, are we?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Kade replied with a playful grin, “You’re training us on our day off, Zar. Don’t expect too much from us.”

Zar chuckled. “Can’t help it. Your leader here was the one who insisted on it.”

Arion rolled his eyes, shooting a smug look at the others. “I didn’t ask you to invite these slackers. I knew they’d tire out easily. Me? I’ll push past exhaustion if it means winning the final round of the arena.”

Selene leaned back, her expression uneasy. “The thought of the final round unsettles me. One-on-one duels against the seniors, and with participants from other academies joining… it’s daunting to even imagine.”

Kade sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’ve quite the knack for reminding us of doom, Selene. I’m half tempted to withdraw already.”

Arion smirked, folding his arms. “Unlike you, I’m undeterred. With our towering and ever-intimidating teacher guiding me, I have no reason to fear.” As he spoke, his hand snaked toward Zar’s prized pack of cookies, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Zar caught the motion, his reflexes swift as he smacked the back of Arion’s hand.

“Caught you red-handed,” he remarked, his tone laced with amusement.

Arion froze mid-motion, offering an innocent shrug. “Couldn’t resist. They’re your favorite for a reason, after all.”

Zar chuckled softly. “You’re relentless, little gaslighter. Fine, you may have them.”

Selene threw her arms up in mock protest. “This is unfair! You turned us down when we asked.”

Zar leaned back, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Perhaps because I believe in merit. Prove yourselves worthy, and I’ll grant you not one, but ten packs. Now, remain here. I have business to attend to, and I expect none of you to wander.”

The moment Zar exited, Kade turned to Arion, his curiosity evident. “Why does he call you ‘gaslighter,’ anyway?”

Arion grinned, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “It’s a title I earned. Once, his gas stove refused to ignite, and I—being the ever-resourceful student—used my fire technique to light it for him.”

Kade snorted, shaking his head. “I thought it was because you keep convincing him that you’re his star pupil.”

Arion gave him a pointed glare. “Shut up Kade"

Arion’s gaze drifted across the room as he talked, eventually landing on a book lying conspicuously on Zar’s desk. Its title, Umbraxis: The Dark Side of Magic, gleamed faintly under the sunlight streaming through the window. He leaned forward, his curiosity piqued.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

“Another one?” he muttered to himself. Without hesitation, he picked it up, his fingers brushing the embossed cover. Turning to the first page, he began to read, his intrigue growing with every line.

Arion was halfway through the first page when the classroom door burst open. Zar’s commanding presence filled the room, and his booming voice shattered the quiet.

“ARION!” he bellowed, his anger so raw that it reverberated through the room.

Arion flinched, panic seizing him as he slammed the book shut. “What happened!?” he stammered, trying to steady his voice.

Zar’s eyes burned with intensity as he strode toward him. “Who gave you permission to touch that book?” His tone was sharp, cutting.

Arion opened his mouth to explain. “But I—”

Zar didn’t let him finish. “This is what your parents have been teaching you?” he interrupted coldly, his words biting.

Arion recoiled as if struck. “I... I was just reading. Is that so wrong? Am I not even allowed to open a book?” he asked, his voice trembling with confusion and fear.

“That book,” Zar said, his tone venomous, “belongs to me. It is mine. Until I grant you explicit permission, you are not to so much as glance at its cover! Being a bright student does not grant you the privilege of rifling through my personal belongings. Learn your place.”

Without another word, Zar snatched the book from Arion’s hands, his grip firm and unyielding. The echo of his heavy footsteps filled the room as he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

A tense silence hung in the air. Finally, Kade broke it, his tone laced with irritation. “If he doesn’t want anyone reading it, why leave it out in the open? I’ll never understand that man.”

Arion’s fists clenched in silent fury, the cookie in his hand igniting in a brief flash of fire. The charred remains crumbled between his fingers as his anger boiled over. “I swear,” he muttered under his breath, his voice cold and seething, “once I’m strong enough, he’ll be the first to fall by my hand.”

Zar placed the book securely in his locker, ensuring it was well-hidden. Hoping to clear his mind, he wandered through the quiet campus. Eventually, he found himself in the faculty lounge, where a few teachers were working despite the off day.

“Ah, Zar,” called Cyrus, a younger teacher sitting by the window. “What brings you here? I wasn’t aware there were any extra classes for your students today.”

Zar offered a slight smile. “Indeed, there weren’t. However, my ever-eager students insisted I train them. While their determination is admirable, I wonder if they realize teachers, too, require rest.”

Cyrus chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Determined students or not, you’re no longer a young man, Zar. Forty years surely demand you take some time to yourself.”

Zar smirked. “Mock my years all you like, Cyrus. One day, when you’ve lived through as many, you’ll understand the patience that comes with age.”

Lenora, another teacher in the room, glanced up from her desk. “Zar, I heard your voice echoing down the halls earlier. It was... unusually loud. What happened?”

Zar’s expression darkened slightly, though his tone remained steady. “One of my students decided to open a book of mine without asking. Such behavior cannot go unchecked.”

Lenora raised a curious brow. “A book, you say? Judging by your reaction, I assume it’s tied to your obsession with Umbraxis.”

Zar let out a soft chuckle. “You assume correctly. The knowledge it contains is far too advanced for them. They are not yet ready to understand it.”

Cyrus leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “But why the obsession, Zar? Umbraxis faded into history ages ago. Surely, it no longer holds any relevance today.”

Zar’s tone sharpened, his gaze steady. “Who says it has faded? Umbraxis endures, though its remnants are hidden. Even now, traces of Umbrites remain, safeguarded in a hidden laboratory.”

Cyrus raised a brow. “And do you know where this laboratory is, Zar?”

Zar shot him a pointed look. “I said it is hidden, Cyrus. Surely, you understand the meaning of that word.”

Lenora chuckled softly. “Always the cryptic one. Still, you must admit—Umbraxis failed to stand the test of time. Whatever strength it once held has been overshadowed.”

Zar’s voice grew firm, his eyes glinting with determination. “Its strength was never in question. The failure was in those who wielded it—hands unworthy of its power. In the right hands, Umbraxis could have shaped the very fabric of existence.”

Cyrus leaned back in his chair, a wry smile on his lips. “You’re the only one who still holds to such beliefs, Zar. Stubborn as ever.”

Before Zar could respond, another teacher interjected, his tone more animated. “Enough about that. Have you all heard of the protest happening in Valtheris?”

Lenora glanced up, curiosity lighting her face. “Ah, yes. Those strange, almost demonic-looking people demanding ownership of a town-sized territory. They’ve even threatened to attack Velandor if their demands aren’t met.”

The other teacher nodded vigorously. “Exactly! And guess who’s been appointed to handle their potential assault? None other than one of our academy’s own—a student, Draven. He applied for part-time work with the officers, and they were thoroughly impressed by him.”

Lenora’s brows rose. “A student? That hardly seems appropriate. Unless, of course, those creatures aren’t much of a threat.”

Zar, who had been silent, interjected firmly. “It is not their strength that is lacking, Lenora. It is Draven’s mastery of Aethermancy that has made him more than a match for them. Do not underestimate him. And we must also credit our dear Cyrus here, who trained him.”

Cyrus flushed, waving off the praise with a nervous laugh. “No, no. He’s naturally gifted. I simply guided him a little.”

Zar chuckled softly. “Modesty does not suit you, Cyrus.” He stood, brushing the dust from his sleeves. “Well, I must return to my students. Unlike your Draven, they have yet to master the art of training themselves."

As Zar exited, leaving a faint air of authority behind him, Cyrus watched him go, his expression pensive. “He’s far stronger than I’ll ever be, yet he respects me so much... Am I secretly that capable?”

Lenora smiled knowingly. “Zar is kind and noble—until someone dares to speak of Umbraxis.