After I finally got settled, I ate an inordinate amount of food, more than I ever had before and more than I had ever seen anyone else manage in one sitting. It was not hunger so much as necessity. Every bite felt like it vanished the moment it touched my tongue, converted instantly into heat and strength that barely kept the shaking at bay and never seemed to last. My stomach burned, stretched, complained, and then demanded more anyway, as if it had finally realized just how much work it had been forced to do.

  I wanted to test my new ability immediately, before the feeling faded. I could feel it there, coiled and waiting, like something warm pressed against the soles of my feet, aware of me in a way abilities never had before. It was not eager exactly, but it was present and responsive, ready to answer if I reached for it. The medical staff shut that idea down without discussion or compromise. They told me the energy surge from a core upgrade would fade quickly and that if I pushed myself now, I would crash harder later. I argued until my voice went hoarse, and they ignored me with the calm professionalism of people who had seen this exact situation too many times to count and had no interest in debating it. In the end, I was escorted back toward the medical wing under protest, my steps still light and unsteady, my body humming like a drawn bowstring.

  That was when Meka spotted me.

  “Runt,” she said, stopping short as if she had run into a wall. “Is it true you’re leaving?”

  “I will be soon,” I said, and I did not trust myself to say anything more than that.

  Her glasses magnified her eyes, already too large for her face, and the way they filled with sadness hit harder than anything else that night had managed. “We’ll miss you,” she said, and then, as if afraid to stop talking, she added, “Also… Greta said the new masters for the magical trainees are coming next. It’s for our version of class specialization.”

  I frowned. “I still don’t understand that. Why force you into one field when, with enough time and power, you could learn all of them?”

  She shrugged, her shoulders hunching slightly. “I don’t know. That’s just how it’s done now. Randall says we have to specialize.”

  “So, you talked to Randall?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Greta gave him a book and told him he’d be watching over me. He didn’t look happy about it, but he didn’t say no. He has been better since Claire got here.”

  I studied her for a moment, taking in the way she stood a little straighter than she used to, the way her hands no longer fidgeted when she thought someone important was looking at her. “Are you sure you’ll be okay without me?”

  “I’ve got Winnie and Claire,” she said quickly. “And the others. I’ve got real friends now.” She hesitated, then added more quietly, “That’s thanks to you.” After a breath, she forced the words out. “You were a better master than I think any of them are going to be.”

  That came dangerously close to breaking me.

  “What did you choose?” I asked, because if I stayed on that thought any longer, I was going to lose my composure entirely.

  “Alchemy,” she said without hesitation. “It made sense. Botanomancy and alchemy fit together. One feeds the other.”

  I nodded. “It’s a good foundation. Even if it’s only a starting discipline, it’s the right one. You’ll learn patience whether you want to or not.”

  She straightened a little at that, pride flickering through her sadness. “Do you need help getting back?”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “The upgrade’s still carrying me. I haven’t crashed yet. I can feel it waiting, though.”

  She nodded, then started to turn away, clearly trying not to linger or let the moment stretch any further.

  “One more thing,” I said. “Tell Winnie and Claire I’ll say a proper goodbye once I’m fully recovered. And if you end up replacing me in the group, there are no hard feelings.”

  She did not answer. Instead, she swooped down, picked me up without warning, and burst into tears.

  I felt my own eyes burn as I awkwardly wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “We could never replace you, runt,” she said through sobs. “You’re the best runt we’ve ever had.”

  I laughed, a little broken. “Thank you, Meka. That means more than you know.”

  She put me down after a moment. We wiped our eyes in awkward silence, neither of us quite sure what to say next or how to end it cleanly.

  “It’s not forever,” I said at last, forcing the words out.

  “It’s for as long as I’ve known you,” she replied.

  “That’s fair,” I said, meeting her eyes. “But we’ve got a lifetime left. This is just a hiccup along the way.”

  She smiled then, wide and bright, ears flapping, horns nearly brushing the ceiling. If she grew much more, she was going to start having real problems fitting through doorways.

  “Do you know what your ability is?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “That’s good,” she said.

  “It is,” I said. “But you’ll have to wait and see. I’ll show all of you what it does before I leave.”

  She nodded solemnly, as if accepting a vow.

  “Meka,” I said, “you’re going to be a great wizard one day.”

  She looked at me seriously. “I have a great master. Probably the greatest wizard of them all.”

  I smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

  “You said later,” she said.

  Then I walked away, heading back to the medical hall.

  I lay down again, this time in a fresh cot instead of the isolation chamber, with the medical staff watching over me, and I slept. I slept like the dead. They pumped me full of healing and made sure I ate, though it was hardly an effort on their part. I devoured everything they put in front of me for what felt like days, my body burning through it as fast as they could supply it. Eventually, the constant ache eased, the shaking stopped, and they finally let me go.

  When I stepped out, the first thing I heard was, “Good. You are awake.”

  A shiver went down my spine as Master Fatty Chunk emerged from around the corner. “It would have been a shame if I had to wake you,” he said. “But you have rested long enough. Now let us say our goodbyes, and then we will be off.”

  I clenched my jaw. I had hoped for more time, but apparently that was not happening. “All right,” I said. “Let’s find Greta.”

  “She has already gathered your class in the mess hall,” he said. “And someone she claims is your apprentice.” He looked at me, clearly confused.

  “Yes,” I said. “Meka. My apprentice.”

  He studied me as if seeing me for the first time. “Are you qualified to train someone?” he asked.

  “I was an ancient,” I said simply.

  “I have never been called Grandmaster before. I think I like it,” Master Fatty Chunk muttered under his breath. “Grandmaster Fatty Chunk,” he snorted softly.

  His expression shifted, interest sharpening. “This is very promising,” he said. “We’ll just have to take her with us.”

  “What?!” I shouted.

  “You cannot train her if you are not with her,” he replied calmly. “I see no problem with this. I can just as easily watch over two trainees as one. You are my apprentice and she is your apprentice. That makes me her grandmaster, and I will not have my pupil’s pupil be trained improperly.”

  “That was not we talked about” I said. “She has friends, family, responsibilities. She cannot just disappear for a year. What will our party do without her? She is our support, and the most level-headed among us.”

  “You have formed a party already?” he asked, eyebrows rising. “This is good. I did not know this. This changes things. Who are their masters?”

  “You’re not doing this,” I said. “There is no way. They are not your pupils to take. They are my friends.”

  “Child,” he said, his voice calm, “do you think you have a choice in this matter? It has been decided.”

  “It has not been decided,” I said.

  “I have decided,” he said, and this time there was weight to his voice.

  The whole room warped as he exerted his will. It was unyielding, a pressure that bent the wooden floor boards, the air crackled and pressed down on me without actually harming me.

  “Child,” he continued, “if you are part of that party, and you are a master of the one called Meka, then I see no issue with taking your party as my students.”

  I clenched my fists. “They already have masters.”

  “Then tell me,” he said, “who are their masters currently?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I barely paid attention to the list.” I lied.

  He looked at me steadily. “Do not try to lie to me. You are far too meticulous to have failed to note every name on that list and the master assigned to each class.”