Magister Nukhail told me that the only place to get better training with my magic than with him, was at Hearstcliff Academy. With that, he had me looking forward to this for the past few years. I had been very excited to check my schedule and see that I had my spellcasting class right after lunch. He had taught me a lot, and I know that I had great skill, more than most of those stronger than me. I had seen and fought a few sorcerers stronger than me, but never one I could say was better.

  Their gestures were slower and more obvious, their forms were sloppier and less precise. Their essence less aligned, their methods less exact. What they did have, was that they were stronger than me. Higher level. And of the two, that's the easier problem to solve. XP would come from plots resolved, objectives completed, and enemies slain. For that... well, I had plans. But there was always a benefit to getting better, learning more. Just because I don't need technique doesn't mean that I've got nothing to gain from these classes.

  And of course, getting some answers as to my more specific and esoteric needs. I need the best magisters in the kingdom to help me figure out what this Untethered Essence really does.

  But of course, before I can do that, I need to answer a whole lot of weird questions.

  "No no no," Magister Braux said, shaking her head. "I'll come back around to you. Sit this out, I need to address everyone first before I can put the time into whatever you've got going on."

  Or, I need to sit back and wait for her to have the time to ask a whole lot of weird questions.

  The class is Sorcery 101, and we're here to learn how to use our sorcerous powers to best effect! Of the people in this room, only the teacher has had magic longer than I have. We've got fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen year olds that have had access to essences for less than two years, or in some cases just a couple of months. There's twenty-three students here, and almost all of them became aware of their magic and had an intuitive inherent affinity for one or two essences, some of those to a really high degree. Four of them have had the opportunity to bolster that by reaching a grove or temple to bond to an additional affinity. There's one oddball, Kimothy, who was training to be a scrivener when the essences bloomed and now he's pissed because his old symbols aren't working anymore, he can only work magic according to his affinities for fog and geese, both of which are famously hard to scribe sigils onto. He can do the sorcery stuff, but his scrivener training is useless unless he finds a new essence he can actually scribe on.

  So Magister Cheresa Braux was dealing with all of this, and doing a good job. Sorcerers are famously the most difficult type of mage to work with, every one of us is a screwball that is at least partially playing by their own rules. Unlike the wizards that work their magic by a sense of pressure and tone, or the scriveners for whom everything is symbols, the sorcerers have to express themselves with the language of "it just is" or "lifeblood of the cosmos" or "I dunno I just tried and it worked". I mean, if you can bond an affinity to an elemental essence, how do you explain that process to someone who can't?

  It's not even like some wacky X-man mutant thing. Sure we spontaneously wake up with magic, but we understand it. And sorcerers are good at talking to each other about it. It's like we woke up out of a dream and we had a little extra poetry in our vibration, and now we can bend the notes to draw forth a reality that's threaded through everything. To a sorcerer, that sentence made sense. For everyone else, that's just a really stupid way to try to explain anything. So we are definitely learning something, and it's a knowledge we possess, but it's not something we can teach, or express, or share.

  And then there's my whole deal. She looked at me and asked me which essences I can draw on. She was expecting a list of items, four or less.

  "Acid, Air, Alcohol, Ash, Brass-"

  That's as far as I got before she put me in the corner. Kimothy sidled up alongside me, and made a sort of empathetic sound. "So, how many essences total?"

  "Um. Forty-seven at maximum affinity. A couple hundred lesser degrees, some of them much lesser."

  Kimothy leaned away and cranked his head around to stare at in disbelief, putting his whole body into this double-take. "Hundreds."

  "I can adopt some affinities by proximity," I said. "The downside is that if I get moved while I'm sleeping I'll probably die."

  He stared. Paused. "Huh," he said, and returned to a normal posture, standing alongside and staring at the room as the magister went about sorting the other students. "That's a hell of a downside."

  "Yep."

  "I love getting moved when I'm sleeping."

  "I feel like you're patronizing me now."

  He shrugged. "Maybe a little. So what do you do with all of them?"

  "Not much. It's all pretty low-strength, so with high affinities and low output I don't dare do any conversion. Some days I make my own clothes. And it's good for not reaching for stuff."

  He considered. "Don't take this the wrong way but it sounds like it kinda sucks. I turn into fog all the time, I use it for all kinds of stuff. And by making it more solid I can create weight-bearing objects made of hardened mist, or pick stuff up and move it around.. geese are great for observation, I can look through their eyes while they're circling, and they make a great way to intimidate people that are getting too close."

  "What if you had a very serious threat to your life?"

  "Well, I'd either push mist into their lungs and harden it there, or I'd use the geese. Very fast-moving geese."

  Pretty much any projectile is impressive if it's moving fast enough and hard enough. Geese would just be more intimidating. I shrugged. "Also, I can teleport around and blow stuff up real good, so it's got upsides."

  "Very nice. What's teleport?"

  "It's a combination of two words from the ancient language. It means to travel from one place to another place without crossing the intervening space. I can make a door that I can step through, and then open another door to somewhere else and step out of it."

  "What, like ... just some other place?"

  "Yeah."

  "Like any other place?"

  "Well," I hedged, "I should probably know where I'm going."

  He thought about that. "Through walls?"

  "Walls yes, but not certain sigils."

  He considered further, doing some kind of math in his head. "Yeah, that makes sense. Sorcery is really woolly, and that can make it really hard to regulate with sigils if you're not paying attention. But if the scrivener does use precise language and sharp definitions, it'd be a piece of cake. So a good scrivener could lock you out, for sure."

  I sighed. "And now that people know this is possible, I think more and more places are going to be closed off with those kinds of sigils. It's an ability that's going to lose utility with exposure."

  "Or it gets less useful when people know about it."

  "That's what I said."

  Kimothy rolled his eyes. "I promise you that it's not. Anyone ever tell you that you talk like you were a precocious six-year-old trying to be taken seriously who never grew out of the habit?"

  I stood there while the room got a lot colder all around me. Kimothy blinked. "Shit, nobody ever has, have they. Hey, don't take it so hard, all right? I didn't mean anything by it."

  I slumped back, and crossed my arms over my stomach. I knew it was a sulky and defensive posture but nothing else felt right. "Yeah, I.. I don't spend a lot of time around people that I'm not trying to impress, or that aren't trying to impress me. There's the duchess thing, and the sorcery, and the music, and the scientific advances, and the visions... I don't really mingle with people who will talk to me straight very often, unless they're also kinda...." I gestured with a loose hand, indicating something-I-don't-know-what. Like I could summarize Yheta or Elica.

  He patted my shoulder. "It's all right. I'm sure you're special enough that most people will never call you out like that."

  Which like holy shit does not make me feel any better about this at all but...

  "Yeah, I guess. Thanks," I said. He was trying to cheer me up, so I let myself cheer up.

  And then Magister Braux waved me over. I was already feeling kind of touchy and sensitive about being a special little snowflake, and now she wanted to know everything about my magic that set me apart. Maybe I was still a little stung, and so I tried to play it a little cool.

  "Okay, so basically my soul is not fully anchored to my body," I told her. "Especially at night when I'm sleeping. It kind of expands and fills the space to a degree. And if something is inside of that, I might be able to bind that essence."

  She cut immediately to the most important word there, ignoring all the other stuff that would cause a theological meltdown or the rewriting of several books on sorcery. Instead, she pinned me right where I'd been trying to deflect. "Might?"

  "Yeah. It sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. Some things I can't seem to build affinity to at all, like light or darkness or sound, others are very hard like fire or most animals. Some are just very easy though, mostly stones, minerals, fabrics, plants, and certain animals. I know there's a pattern, but I haven't worked it out yet."

  "Hmm," she said, running a finger alongside her cheekbone thoughtfully. "I wonder if that will interfere with your ability to build affinities in the more conventional way? Visiting the focal sites and absorbing that affinity?"

  "Oh gods I hope not," I said, stomach dropping. "I'm on the wait-list for the fire temple, I'd hate to show up there just to find out that it won't help me any more." Normally sorcerers visit certain powerful and meaningful locations where they can build affinity to an element. That's the normal way for them to learn a new affinity that they did not develop inherently.

  "So, you've got how many affinities?"

  I gave her the same answer I did to Kimothy. "Forty seven at maximum aptitude," I said. "And a couple hundred at lesser affinity."

  "Forty seven you're sure?" she said sharply.

  I didn't answer, but one of the other sorcery students who was nearby interrupted. "All due respect ma'am, I guarantee she's sure. And she's definitely playing coy about how many minor affinities as well. She knows exactly."

  Cheresa Braux looked from this student back to me, and I rolled my eyes. "Two hundred and fourteen elemental affinities that are too weak for me to access for anything really useful but are still developing."

  "Forty seven, and two hundred fourteen?" she said, a little incredulous still. "And you just know this exactly?"

  Every sorcerer within earshot looked at her with the same slightly condescending stare. She might as well have asked all of us if we were absolutely sure we were wearing pants without checking.

  She put her hands up, ducking her head in a surrender. "Fine. You sorcerers actually know this so precisely. And it still doesn't make sense to me or any authority of magic outside your classification. Now, what does that mean to us, that you have access to," she paused only a second, "two hundred and sixty-one essences?"

  "Damn little," I sighed. "I've got enough mana to spell up about a dozen effects, so in a given day I might choose three to five for me to channel, three to five for me to conjure, and three to five for me to curve."

  She made a face at that. I don't think she likes sorcery-specific terminology. In her native practice, animation, levitation, reshaping and manipulation were different effects and not just dropped into one category. But then, in other forms of magic, you don't take a chance of losing your human identity if you push farther than you should. And in sorcery, the more attuned you are to a spell the more useful and dangerous it is to you. Most forms of magic get less dangerous to the caster as you develop them.

  I kept going. "Anyway, so that means that in any given day I'm only using a small percentage of my potential. Eventually I'll get my mana stronger, and then I'll be able to do more.. but in the end I've got more versatility than staying power, and it's likely to stay that way."

  She tapped her staff against the floor, a nervous gesture. It made me nervous too, I've seen what magister-class staffs can do when tapped idly. "Well, it seems that the main things to work on for you is developing mana reserves, but also learning how to direct you to the affinities you choose, rather than having them just happen. The idea that you're not in control of what you bond with is annoying to me in an academic way and must be infuriating to you at a personal level."

  "You've no idea," I promised her. "And, uh, full disclosure, I've got a couple of affinities that nobody else does. I should probably be testing their limits and capabilities in a controlled and safe environment."

  She tucked a notebook out of her robe's breast pocket. "I'll see about securing a space for you. What are you going to need?"

  "Extreme impact and pressure resistance, and lots of electrical insulation."

  "Sure. What's that?" she asked.

  "Glass, paper, cloth, rubber, soft woods," I said. "You see, I can create and curve what people call levin energy."

  She was not wearing spectacles but on a spiritual level she was looking at me over the tops of spectacle frames. "Lightning. Like from a storm."

  "Yes. Except at a smaller scale."

  "And you want a safe and controlled environment to practice that?"

  I sighed. "Yes. And- to reiterate: at a much smaller scale."

  "And the impact resistant chamber?"

  "That's harder to explain. Kind of a sustained implosion followed by a collected explosion."

  "What does it do?" she asked. She was much better at magical theory and technique than she was at following my explanations for phenomena.

  "Well, among other things it blows buildings apart and disintegrates people entirely."

  She chuckled. "And you want more affinities than that? If it were me I'd just lead with that one every time."

  "That's gotten me in trouble," I admitted.

  She had me show off a couple of my more conventional tricks, curving air and crafting steel, and she gave me a nod for that. "Well, whoever's been working with you up to this point has done you no disfavors, that's for sure. Your forms are not flawless, but they're good. And, they're a much lower priority than the rest of your whole deal. I might coach you a little bit on gestures through the year, but we're much more likely going to be hitting the books to figure out what makes your case so unique, and what we can do with it. Also, running some practices with your abilities to try to extend your understanding and output. Also, we should see about getting you actively trained with new materials so you can build your stock of affinities."

  "I've been doing that for years," I said. "That's how I got to two-hundred plus."

  She tucked her notebook away. "That makes sense, it's the first thing I'd do. All right, I've got some books to crack and see if I can make any sense at all out of what you're doing. I'm sure you're going to be about a hundred headaches this year, but it'll all be worth it when none of you accidentally turn yourselves into statues or pigeons."

  "Looking forward to it," I promised her.

  After the next bell went Dong Dong I headed off to my literature class, walking with a conjured leather jacket and curving the air to cut down the wind and warm the air around me, my feet tapping on the paving stones.

  "Oh, that feels so good!" blurted one of my classmates, a scrawny girl holding a huge stack of scrivening textbooks. She had plain features and hair, but her face had lots of personality and energy. I liked her. She was not wearing a thick enough coat for the weather, either. She was clearly enjoying the heated stilled zone I created around me.

  "Which way are you headed?" I asked, and expanded the bubble of warmed air.

  "Math wing," she said. "Is this you warming us up?"

  I nodded. "C'mon, I can walk you at least halfway there, and hopefully you'll make it before you get too chilled."

  "Oh, thanks!" she said, juggling her books. I took half and started walking. She trotted along at my side, her legs were a little shorter. "I come from Wanfarrun and people told me that Hearster doesn't get that cold, so I didn't bring any heavy jackets. Didn't take me long to realize my mistake!" she scoffed, shaking her head in annoyance at herself. "And then on top of that I didn't think to grab a bookstrap, so now all my textbooks are just stacked up. Thanks, by the way, for carrying. And, of course, warming us up."

  "No problem," I said. "Wanfarrun, I didn't think that area was so cold. It's way up north, past Woadrun?"

  "Right, very warm year-round compared to some areas," she said. "But my home is actually kind of high up the mountains, so we get some real chill-"

  "Hey!" someone yelled. "Hey! Vendetta!"

  I froze, and looked around. I curved the air hard to form a shield all around us, and started the gestures for conjuring the singularity's implosion. I was half-crouched, defensive, when I saw the three boys hustling over at a fast trundle.

  They were coming from the direction of the history building, so I did not assume they were mages. I relaxed a little but not much. "What do you want," I said. I did not shout, or raise my voice, but the air did carry my words from here to there much easier, they could hear me eerily clearly from eighty feet away.

  "You bitch, you killed my dad!" bellowed out the one in the middle slogging right at me. Unlike the girl at my side, he was bundled up thoroughly, plenty of layers. His face was red and dappled, he was close to sweating here.

  Could be trouble. I kept an eye on all three of them, and with my left hand I flowed the gestures to channel the essence of levin energy into my mind, ready to accelerate my thinking to react if they made a hostile move. This school had mages, rogues and warriors too, I could never assume that anyone was safe unless they had a System window I could read and get a measure for.

  "You killed his dad?" the scrivener from Wanfarrun said, horrified.

  "Let me guess. Byeview? Or the Curmudgeon?" I asked.

  The three angry boys shuffled straight at me with their shoulders lowered, clearly planning to (at the very least) intimidate me or berate me. But they hit the wall of thickened air, hardened to a wall and holding them at bay. "You burned him to death! And then you got your daddy to buy off the courts and let you get away with it, you bitch!"

  "Ah, Byeview then," I said, settling a little further. "So he was a gangster, not a pirate. Look, you don't have to live his mistakes. If you just don't tell people that your father was a legbreaker working for a murdering loan shark, they'll never know. You can just-"

  "Fuck you!" he yelled, leaning into the wall. His two mates stood nearby, silent but supportive. "You don't get to parade around here like you've never done wrong!"

  "You know your father was either a murderer or an accomplice to murder, right?"

  "Yeah? Well you ain't give him a trial, why'd they give you one?!"

  I paused, hmmed, and cocked my head to the side. "That's a surprisingly cogent point. But, as you pointed out when you yelled at me, I was exonerated on a Vendetta Defense. The panel of assessors ruled that anyone who went through all that would have done the same as I did."

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  There was a tap at my elbow. "Um, miss? I can't leave."

  "In a moment," I muttered to her.

  "Oh yeah? B't you was never able to prove that he was part of that, did ya?"

  I shrugged and shifted the books in my arms. "Again, a very reasonable argument. You do have a point. It was a total miscarriage of justice but it is mitigated because your father was a violent gangster."

  "You can puff 'bout mitigation! You served three weeks for each person you killed!" he blustered, raising a fist to thump against the invisible barrier. "And they never did add charges for your jail-breaking and fleeing custody!"

  "You're really good at this for a fifteen-year-old," I said. "Are you pre-law?"

  And then a very heavy book on scrivening hit me behind the ear and I was thrown to the ground, hands up to my head, and the barrier of air dropped from around us.