The forest clearing shimmered in Jake’s memory, the events from his week of practice with Gellius crystallizing in his mind. Gellius had stood before him, the trees casting long shadows around them.

  “Aura,” Gellius began. “You must first understand the fundamentals of it before you can hope to control it.”

  Jake listened intently as Gellius’ voice took on a lecturing tone. “Aura is a manifestation of the mind’s consciousness, invisible to non-mages, as their aura captors remain locked. There are hundreds of captors throughout the body. All captors need to be unlocked to perform true and efficient magic. The captors located specifically in the eyes can be used to perceive aura.”

  If unlocking the captors in my eyes lets me see Aura, maybe it’ll also allow me to magic read more efficiently.

  Gellius continued, his gaze piercing to see if Jake followed along. “Once unlocked, these captors connect to a network within your body called the Aura pathway system. Think of it as the cardiovascular system for Aura, allowing its energy to flow from captor to captor. Learning to control this flow is the first step to becoming a mage.

  “Aura control also requires willpower. It’s tied directly to the mind, and like the mind, it improves through studying, meditation, and experience. But raw control isn’t enough. You also need to regulate your Aura’s flow to appear ordinary when needed. Too much output, and you’ll stand out like a beacon.”

  “How do you regulate it?” Jake asked.

  “Through discipline and, if necessary, vows.” Gellius replied. “Vows are self-imposed limitations. For example, you could vow never to use your magic except in dire need. If you abide by it, your magic will grow stronger as your will reinforces your power. However,” he added, “failing to uphold a vow weakens you. The more stringent the restriction, the greater the risk and reward.”

  Jake nodded.

  “Every person’s Aura is unique, giving off a signature as distinct as a fingerprint. The uniqueness means some excel naturally at manipulating some elements, while others struggle. This is your Aura’s affinity. It will determine your strength with specific elements. Those with an affinity require less Aura to control their element effectively.”

  Jake tilted his head. “How do you figure out your affinity?”

  The old warden’s staff swept through the air, conjuring four elements before them. A stone, a teardrop-shaped flame, a blob of water, and a leaf that spun in the breeze.

  “Close your eyes,” Gellius commanded. “Release your aura. Let’s see where your affinity lies.”

  Jake did as instructed. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reaching deep within himself.

  “MORE!” Gellius commanded again.

  I got it old man, no need to shout. You’ll raise your blood pressure.

  Even after pushing out everything he could, the silence that followed was deafening.

  “Stop,” Gellius said after a moment.

  Jake opened his eyes and stared at the objects. They hung in the air unchanged.

  “No affinity,” Gellius said bluntly.

  Jake sighed, his shoulders slumping.

  Of course, I don’t.

  Jake tried to shake off the disappointment.

  “We’ll move on to meditation and practice drills.” Gellius said.

  Jake closed his eyes again as Gellius instructed him to swirl the Aura at each captor.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Focus your mind and swirl your aura toward your captors then burst it out. Swirl, swirl, swirl… BURST!” Gellius’ voice echoed. “Swirl, swirl, swirl… B—”

  “—URST!” Jake shouted in the present, his panic-stricken voice cutting through the memory as the cold mud pulled at his legs. His attempts to channel aura had scattered like leaves, the techniques Gellius had drilled into him slipping away in his fear.

  He gritted his teeth, pushing away the rising panic.

  Focus. Swirl the aura, Blast it away.

  But his concentration faltered. The panic was too strong, and his attempts fizzled out.

  A flash of movement caught his eye as Erolith descended beside them and voluntarily plunged her hand into the sinking mud alongside his own, her hood falling away. The unmistakable long ears appearing.

  An Elf?

  But there was no time for Jake to wonder. Her eyes met his with an intensity that needed no words. Jake felt her aura synchronize with his.

  Wind magic.

  Together, they unleashed a blast that erupted outward, sending Team Seven flying clear of the deadly quicksand. The shockwave rippled through the sinking pit, leaving a crater where elimination had nearly claimed them. Jake tumbled to the ground, gasping for breath as the others landed nearby.

  Jake sat up, his chest still heaving. His mind raced back to Gellius and his words about vows and limitations. Perhaps having no affinity wasn’t a curse after all; it just meant he had to work hard, be smarter, and find strength unexpected places.

  Jake barely had a moment to catch his breath before a sharp movement in the underbrush caught his attention. The rustling leaves was his only warning before cold steel pressed against his throat. A man, his face obscured, leaned in close.

  “Move, and he gets it,” the man growled to the others.

  Jonas stood there like a statue, his stern gaze locked on the assailant. The message was clear: compliance was not an option.

  Erolith talked through the tension. “What makes you think we’d care? We barely know the guy.”

  A bit cold, no?

  “It wasn’t a choice,” With a pop, the jester appeared between them, once again balancing on the tip of his crooked staff. The bells on his cap jingled with each movement as three more figures emerged from the shadows, their crossbows trained on Jonas, Luckie, and Erolith.

  Jonas’ voice was calm but probing. “What do you want? If you planned to eliminate us, you would have done so already. Why the ambush?”

  The Jester cackled in a grating high-pitched sound. He leaned forward, his mask’s hollow grin inches from Jonas’ face. “Oh, my dear knight, must you always think in such linear terms? Ambush? Us? Why, you were the ones who attacked us first.” He pointed dramatically toward Jake and Luckie.

  Fair point.

  “Requital is in order,” the Jester said, twirling his staff lazily. “Here’s my proposal: hand over your weapons. That beautiful greatsword, the dainty bow, the flashy dagger, and…” he turned to Jake, “…that lovely katana.”

  Asking for his katana had seemingly become a recurring theme.

  Like hell I’m trusting a Jester with Kuroyuki.

  The Jester raised a hand, jiggling the bells on his cap. “No need to fret. I’m feeling generous tonight. All you have to do is retreat. I promise—cross my heart! Your weapons will be returned to you after the trial.”

  He spun toward Jonas, his voice taking on a mockingly sweet tone. “So, Captain, what will it be?”

  Before Jonas could respond, a calm and measured voice echoed through the clearing. “No, that won’t do.”

  The Jester’s head whipped around, along with his men. From the shadows stepped Varghese, his posture unassuming, hands in his pockets. A faint click sounded as he pulled out a circular mechanical lighter, igniting a cigarette. He took a slow drag, the ember glowing in the dim light.

  “You’re not as outnumbered as you think,” Varghese said, exhaling a plume of smoke. He gestured lazily toward one of the crossbowmen. “That one? Doesn’t even cast a shadow.”

  The Jester froze, his usual manic energy dissipating into stillness. For the first time, his hollow grin seemed forced.

  Varghese continued, his tone casual but razor-sharp. “And the trees blocking the clearing over there? Perfectly symmetrical. Too perfect. Just a projection.”

  Jake’s eyes widened. He’d missed those details entirely, but now that Varghese pointed them out, the inconsistencies were there.

  Varghese took another drag, his eyes never leaving the Jester. “I’ll hazard a guess. You lure in unsuspecting participants, deceive them with illusions, and then demand their weapons as ‘compensation.’ It’s a clever ploy, really. Weakens them while bolstering your own arsenal.”

  The Jester tilted his head, the bells jingling faintly. “And what if that were true, hmm? What would you do?”

  “Nothing.” Varghese’s voice dropped to a steely calm. “There’s no point in engaging you here. The explosion earlier and all this Aura output… It’s only a matter of time before other parties show up. We’re on our way out.”

  Luckie’s voice was filled with disbelief. “We’re just going to let them walk away? Leave him standing there, unharmed?”

  Varghese flicked his cigarette to the ground. “The Jester standing there?” He picked up a rock and tossed it at the figure. The stone passed straight through, hitting the ground behind it. “He’s been a fake all along.”

  The image of the Jester flickered and distorted before vanishing entirely. Jake’s stomach churned as he realized how close they had come to falling for the elaborate ruse.

  “Let’s move,” Varghese said, turning back toward the group. “We’ve wasted enough time here.”