The sharp, spicy scent of incense mingled with the exotic perfume of unfamiliar herbs, a combination that had become familiar as he recounted recent events to his professor. Kor shifted in his seat, the plush velvet no longer a novelty, almost stifling against his magically maintained robes. The heavy heat in the room, a dry, oppressive warmth, seemed to radiate not from the walls cluttered with strange artefacts, but from Terra herself. He absently adjusted his glasses, pushing them higher up the bridge of his nose.

  Lena and he had long since learned how disorganised their professor could be, but even he hadn’t expected this level of clutter. Papers teetered precariously on her desk, a familiar landscape of chaos. Terra, however, remained a whirlwind of barely contained vigour. Even sitting still, a barely perceptible vibration appeared to emanate from her, like a tightly wound spring. Her fiery hair, a smouldering halo, seemed to emit its own heat, a physical manifestation of the energy that crackled around her.

  “So,” she began, her voice a low, melodious purr that was both amused and concerned, “even after all my classes on magical fundamentals, you still decided to meditate beside one of the most potent artefacts you’ve ever encountered? An unknown one, at that, whilst simultaneously battling the Karex and several other students?”

  “Uhm.” Kor’s throat tightened, the words sticking like dry parchment as he struggled to speak. “When you put it like that...”

  Terra erupted in laughter, a bright, explosive sound. Her fiery red hair, streaked with gold, seemed to ignite, flames licking at the edges, a telltale sign of her amusement. The temperature in the room spiked, heat pressing in on him, a fine sheen of sweat prickling his forehead.

  “I thought you had more sense, Kor.” She finally regained her composure, the flames subsiding as quickly as they had appeared.

  He ducked his head, unable to meet her amber gaze. “Probably wasn’t the smartest move,” he mumbled, “but I had little time to think.”

  Terra nodded, a thoughtful hum escaping her lips. Her gaze drifted off, lost in some distant landscape only she could perceive. Kor’s fingers traced the intricate fractal patterns etched into the bronze trim of his robe.

  “So you can still sense your essence, just not replenish your reserves?” she asked, her voice pulling him back to the present. “Is it still as depleted as when you finished the test?”

  Kor reached inward, towards the wellspring of his mana. Empty. His reserves, usually a comforting presence, were exhausted. Yet, a faint trickle remained, a tiny spark in the vast emptiness, stronger than he had felt immediately after the ordeal. “It’s better than it was,” he admitted.

  “That is a relief, at least. It sounds like you have done nothing irreversible. Hold still.”

  He froze, every muscle taut. The air between them crackled, an undercurrent of raw power thrumming in the silence. Terra’s eyes glowed with an inner luminescence, fixing him with an intensity that made him feel utterly exposed. A warmth, like the sun’s embrace on a summer’s day, spread across his skin where her gaze landed. It probed deeper, a gentle pressure that seemed to reach into the very core of his being.

  She inhaled sharply, her eyes focusing again, the glow receding. “You’ve no idea how close you came to ending your career as a mage.”

  A cold wave surged through his gut, twisting and churning until he felt as though the ground had vanished beneath him. “That bad?” he whispered.

  “Yes.” Her voice was stern, her expression hardening into a scowl. He’d never seen her this angry before, and the sight sent a shiver down his spine. “You did well to remove the blockages from your body, but your actions were incredibly dangerous, reckless.”

  “I’m sorry, I...” His shoulders hunched, and a chill crept up his spine, prickling his skin as if the room itself judged him.

  She shook her head. “Part of the problem with Lexicans is that you lack the magical common sense that most of us take for granted. Any other student would have instinctively known better.”

  His eyes widened, a flicker of defiance sparking within him, but she held up a hand, forestalling his protest. “There is an opportunity here, Kor, if you’re willing to seize it.”

  His breath caught, a faint warmth spreading through his chest, fragile and fleeting, like the first spark of a dying fire. “What?” he breathed.

  “Your body is still recovering from the trauma of having so much energy course through it,” she explained, her voice softening slightly, “but at the same time, that experience has ripped open the channels of your mana. Opening yourself fully to the flow of mana is usually a gradual process, one that most students don’t even complete by the end of their third year. However, you have already come close to achieving it, even if it has nearly crippled you.”

  His breath hitched. Is she saying what I think she is? “What do I need to do?”

  “For the next week, nothing. No dabbling with spells, no attempting to meditate. For the next seven days, you need to avoid using your essence in any way at all. The injury is too recent, and I’ll have to consult Oak about this...”

  The flicker of hope threatened to be extinguished. “You said there was an opportunity, Professor.”

  “Yes. Conflux holds the secrets to a number of wizard-level meditation techniques. If you succeed in learning one, it would be a massive boon to you, but...”

  “What is it?” He gripped the arms of the chair, leaning forward, his knuckles white against the dark velvet.

  “Only graduates are usually permitted to learn them,” she said, her voice laced with regret. “If we want to get you a copy, I’ll need to get Dean Velleth’s permission.”

  Kor slumped back into the chair, his face falling. “Then I’m doomed...” The words escaped his lips, a whisper of despair.

  “Not necessarily, Kor. I have a few favours I can call in. With any luck, we’ll get you sorted.” She flashed him a reassuring smile, but it did little to ease the knot of dread in his stomach.

  Velleth. The name alone was enough to send a chill down his spine. The Dean’s dislike of Lexicans, and of him in particular, bordered on irrational. When he added the incidents with Kelleth and Teneth on top... I’m finished.

  “Thanks, Terra,” he managed, forcing a weak smile. “I guess I need to rest up for a week, then.”

  “Yes. But don’t look so defeated, Kor,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m sure we’ll get this sorted.”

  A sense of impending doom clung to him, a persistent chill that not even Terra’s assurances could dispel. Even with her promise to secure the wizard-level technique, a cold certainty gripped him. Velleth wouldn’t allow it. Not in a million years.

  Back in his dorm, he told Talen he was on the mend but needed a week’s respite from spellcasting. Talen’s relief was palpable, his crystal palm glowing with a vibrant, verdant light behind him, its gentle pulse illuminating the room. No point upsetting him until I have confirmation, after all. His gaze settled on the Morthus pot, still dormant after all this time. Talen’s hair, however, had almost fully shifted, the wave of amber now just a hair’s breadth from the tips.

  “You going to be taking all your plants home with you?”

  “Oh!” Talen exclaimed, his brow furrowing in thought. “The Morthus has to come with me, Dad will be overjoyed to see it, but...” His gaze flicked to his other plants – the creeping vines, the small shrubs, even the crystal palm – a flicker of concern in his brown eyes.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “I’ll look after them whilst you’re gone,” Kor offered, a hint of apprehension in his voice. “Just need some watering, right?”

  Talen’s eyes lit up. “Thanks, Kor! But they’ll need a bit more than that.” He rushed over to his chest, withdrawing several strange, intricately crafted devices, vials of shimmering nutrient solutions, and a thick, leather-bound notebook.

  Kor swallowed, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach. What have I just set myself up for?

  Time inched by as he waited for news from Terra. Most students had already left, the portals to their homeworlds only opening on their namesake days. Kor caught up with Marcus before he departed. Though cleared by the academy healers, Marcus’s demeanour suggested he felt otherwise.

  The two of them talked inside Marcus’s dorm room for once. Somehow, his friend had secured himself a room all to his own, a testament to his family’s wealth and influence. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of heroic battles and mythical creatures. Tasteful, yet opulent furniture filled the space, everything meticulously arranged and spotlessly clean.

  Sitting in a plush armchair, Kor listened as Marcus spoke, a rare frown marring his usually cheerful features.

  “You can still feel it? What Laylee did?”

  “Yes.” Marcus’s frown deepened. “I didn’t have time to see what she did exactly, but even now, I can feel it spreading through my body, Kor. My power is being leached away. Once I get home, my father will pay for the best treatment possible, but with my recent performance, he will not be happy.”

  Kor reached out, gripping Marcus’s shoulder. “You’ll get through this, Marcus,” he said, his voice firm. “This is your first real setback, but when you put your mind to it, there’s no stopping you. Until now, you’ve stomped everyone and everything that got in your way. Don’t let this shake your confidence.”

  Marcus nodded, a glimmer of his usual determination returning to his bright blue eyes. “You’re right, Kor. At least this test taught me who my real friends are. Perhaps I got ahead of myself, building too many shallow relationships and not focusing on the true friends around me.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted, his teeth flashing in a grin that seemed to light up the room, his eyes gleaming with renewed determination. “I won’t let this get me down. I’m destined for greater things than being taken down by such underhanded tactics.”

  The two of them rose to their feet. Marcus still towered over him, but as their hands clasped in a firm handshake, something felt different. Marcus’s grip, always strong, held a new quality – respect, perhaps even a touch of humility. The usual easy confidence in his bright blue eyes had been tempered, replaced by a depth Kor hadn’t noticed before. Though Marcus still looked down to meet his gaze, the angle didn’t feel quite so steep anymore.

  He left Marcus’s room, both of their problems swirling in the back of his mind. Could he perhaps investigate what Laylee had done? She was Netharian, renowned for their darker arts. Perhaps Ether or even Lena might know something.

  But he still had problems of his own, and with no ability to interact with mana, his options were limited. He needed to focus on what he could genuinely control right now. Even without his magical abilities, he had an artificing project that needed more research, an archives’ worth of books to read, and the rest of his flab to lose.

  Running out of breath during the exam had limited his options, potentially putting his life at risk. If he could run faster, further, he might even have been able to lose the Solarians. Also, the wider he was, the more energy his barrier consumed in shielding him. It wasn’t like a few inches would change that much, but everything counted. Students had actually died during the expedition, and he needed to take the threats seriously. He needed to get fitter, stronger.

  With all of his friends having returned home, he spent the week studying, running, and actively avoiding any interaction with mana. Lentus had fallen into a deep slumber at the end of the expedition, and even Ether avoided communicating with him as he entered the library.

  For his studies, at least, it was a productive week. He’d finalised a design for a portable heater, utilising fractal heat dispersion through a honeycomb-like structure to maintain the warmth generated. At least in theory. He still needed to complete a few calculations and build the device after his convalescence.

  Terra even arranged for a visit to Professor Oak, who, after giving him another earful about taking stupid risks, finally began checking him over. Thick grey brows furrowed over sharp, steel-grey eyes, his stern demeanour only amplified by his immaculate robes.

  “You’re lucky, lad. I don’t know if it’s something to do with the nature of your magic.” He squinted. “But your body has already started to adapt. It’s as if the very fabric of your specialisation is strengthening you somehow. Although, now that you’ve blasted open the floodgates of control, it’s nearly impossible to undo.”

  “Can’t I use my old techniques once I’ve recovered?”

  “No. The damage has altered the way your body responds to mana. It’s possible you could regain some functionality with it, but...”

  “What?”

  Oak shook his head. “Mana reserves the size of yours aren’t easy to recover, especially with basic techniques. Even if you learnt another, with how wide open you’ve ripped your connection, they would be utterly insufficient to hold on to the energy. Your body’s like a sieve with holes too large to be useful. Power flows in and out. It’s actually a surprise that you can even hold any reserves without focusing.”

  “Couldn’t I just focus on keeping the energy in when I’ve recovered?”

  “No. High-level meditation techniques aren’t just about gathering mana, but attuning yourself on a fundamental level. Finding the correct one usually involves months of experimentation, figuring out what harmonises with your specialisation. Every individual is unique, and even the mainstream versions of meditation that the academy holds aren’t suitable for everyone. That’s actually one of the biggest bottlenecks for more esoteric spellcasters like yourself, finding or even developing an entirely unique technique.”

  Oak folded his arms, fixing Kor with a stern gaze.

  This was sounding a lot more involved than Terra had let on. Months of experimentation, potentially needing to create a technique all on his own?

  “I can’t believe you’re just a first year, you and those other monsters of mana. The expedition showed that you lot are simply too potent to let loose on each other like you have been.”

  Terra spoke up. “Are you thinking of asking the Dean to cancel future contests? I’m not sure he’d—”

  “No. More like ask for higher-tier badges.” Oak narrowed his gaze on Kor. “Already these kids are pumping out more power than a normal second year, and we’re barely a quarter of the way through the year. By the time the end-of-year tournament rolls around, I dread to think what they’ll be capable of.”

  Terra inhaled sharply. “You know how much those cost. Do you really think Velleth will agree to it?”

  “If he doesn’t, we’re going to have more deaths on our hands, mark my words.”

  Terra nodded. “Thanks for looking at him, Oak.”

  He huffed. “Don’t mention it. I’ll stick in a word with Velleth, for all the good it will do.”

  He had two weeks for half term, and he spent the first week keeping himself busy. Exercising, studying, planning. Anything to keep his mind from the impending judgement he knew was coming. Over his week of convalescence, the change Oak had spoken of became apparent. Every day, his ability to detect the flows of mana widened, like a fog lifting to reveal a hidden landscape.

  Studying in his dorm, even Talen’s plants revealed themselves to him more fully. The way they interacted with the ambient essence was subtle, but distinct from the way students did. He’d even begun to get a sense of their personalities, their unique quirks and preferences. The crystal palm in particular, thrummed with a quiet vibrancy. Every time he watered it, the very air seemed to resonate with a sense of excitement, a silent hum that reminded him keenly of how Ether communicated.

  Eager to learn his fate, he set off towards Terra’s office, his footsteps echoing in the near-empty corridors. I can already expect what the response will be. He steeled himself for the worst. Three separate times he tried to find her, before finally, he caught her exiting the spire.

  “Terra!” He ran over, his heart pounding in his chest.

  She glanced over, her usual cheer dimmed. Even her fiery hair practically smouldered as he reached her, the flames subdued, almost as if reflecting her mood.

  “Any news?”

  Her shoulders slumped, a sad look on her face explaining everything without words. “I’m sorry, Kor. The Dean isn’t being reasonable… I’ve still got a few connections I’m trying to pull, but with most of the professors headed home too…”

  His shoulders slumped as a long, weary breath slipped from his lips, carrying the weight of his disappointment. “It’s fine,” he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. He’d had a week to think it through, and there was one last source of hope he clung to, a veritable library of knowledge in whom he placed his faith.

  She must have read the look on his face. “You aren’t going to do anything dangerous now, are you? There’s still a chance...”

  “Ether,” he said, the name a whisper on the wind.

  She narrowed her eyes briefly. “The Archive is helpful, Kor, but the academy has an arrangement with it. It doesn’t allow students access to anything genuinely dangerous, or beyond their abilities.”

  “You said it was possible for me to learn. Perhaps I can convince Ether?”

  She sighed, a flicker of uncertainty in her amber eyes. “Well, that’s a better plan than anything I’ve come up with. I can’t exactly teach you my meditation techniques, and if I defied the Dean on this, it would be more than my job’s worth.”

  Kor shook his head. “No, thank you, Terra. This problem was of my own making. It isn’t fair to expect you to solve it for me.”

  “But it’s fair to expect Ether to?” A hint of her usual spark returned, a teasing smile played on her lips.

  “Huh.” He chuckled involuntarily, a nervous laugh that echoed in the sudden silence.

  “All I can say is, be careful, Kor. Not very helpful, I know, but I’d hate to lose such a promising student.”

  “Thanks, Professor. I’ll try not to be any more stupid than necessary.”

  “Good luck, Kor.”

  He nodded, squaring his shoulders as he set out for the archive. Ether, he thought, his heart pounding a steady rhythm against his ribs. Let’s hope you’re feeling charitable today. I don’t think I’m up for another test right now.