Kor sat cross-legged on the cold, smooth stone floor, his worn student robes pooling around him. In his hands, he held the book he’d chosen, its cover a swirling tapestry of purples and blacks that shimmered even in the dim light. The chaotic fractal patterns promised a journey into the unknown, and a giddy sense of anticipation thrummed within him.

  He eased open the first page with trembling hands, breathing a sigh of relief as it turned without resistance. I half expected another challenge like the Logos. But a surprise awaited him—no words.

  The first page held only more of the strange, chaotic fractals. Shapes that defied his understanding, twisting and turning in ways that seemed to mock the orderly rules of mathematics he’d learned. Yet, even as he struggled to grasp their forms, his connection to the underlying principles of fractal geometry whispered of their nature, a subtle hum beneath his confusion.

  Each page he turned revealed more of these enigmatic objects – no writing to mar the intuitive understanding each shape slipped into his mind. Spirals and complex structures formed from seeds he would be hard-pressed to identify, their forms alien and yet strangely familiar. The parchment felt smooth beneath his fingertips, a stark contrast to the rough texture of the floor.

  He continued to turn the pages, his senses growing sharper, more attuned to the subtle energies within. The pictures resonated vividly the more of them he observed, a faint echo growing stronger with each turn.

  They’re trying to teach me something! Pages flicked by, each fractal form imparting some secret essence of its nature. The order and disorder of subsequent pages clashed, a visual representation of the very concepts he was struggling to grasp. Recursion and randomness intertwined, opposing forces, yet together they formed something greater, a whole that was more than the sum of its parts.

  The meticulous planning he was accustomed to was clear in every object, every curve and spiral, each a testament to precision and calculation. They whispered to him of underlying rules, a hidden order beneath the chaos. He paused, his gaze captivated by a breathtaking, two-page illustration: a galaxy swirling within the inky blackness, its spiral arms a mesmerising dance of light and shadow. The book’s magic animated the image, the galaxy slowly rotating, stars twinkling with an ethereal luminescence.

  He inhaled sharply, a gasp escaping his lips. “That’s it!”

  The missing piece, the crucial element he’d been searching for. The dynamic interplay between order and chaos, both necessary, critical even, to form the galaxy fractal he’d been envisioning. It was so blindingly obvious now, staring him in the face.

  A cascade of realisations flooded him, like long-rusted gears suddenly meshing, turning in his mind. His understanding deepened on a visceral level, the once-complex patterns now revealing themselves with startling clarity. The swirling galaxy made sense in a way that transcended words, a profound, intuitive comprehension that resonated deep within him.

  Before, he’d observed the shapes, the forms, but he hadn’t truly understood them. Now, it was as though he saw with the accumulated wisdom of a dozen lifetimes, his mind clear, his perception honed to a razor’s edge. Everything resonated. His body thrummed with a vitality he’d never before experienced, a vibrant energy that sang in his veins. The mana within him was alive, a barely contained power buzzing with excitement. An undeniable urge surged through him: to create, to explore this awakened understanding, to push the boundaries of his magic further than ever before.

  The revelation had etched itself into the very fibre of his being, into his bones, his blood, his soul. Fractals were the core of his magic, but this epiphany had unveiled something more, a tantalising glimpse of a greater power he had yet to grasp. This new awareness, however, was as fleeting as the sensations that were even now fading from his body.

  More. There was always more…

  The book faded away in his hands, its pages dissolving into motes of light, its job complete. He rose to his feet, his legs stiff from sitting, a sense of purpose filling him. The sphere at the centre of the room beckoned him closer, its swirling, amorphous contents seeming to pulse with anticipation. Extending a thread of his own mana, a tendril of energy reaching out like an inquisitive finger, he felt it connect with the orb, merging with the formless mass within. It swirled and moved under his desire, responding to his unspoken commands.

  He briefly thought of his snowflake barrier, the base he’d formed it from, the simple, elegant recursion that gave it its strength. The sphere responded instantly, its internal chaos resolving itself into a miniature version of his shield, a perfect replica in shimmering, ethereal form. But instead of stopping, the recursion continued, replicating the pattern deeper and deeper, a dizzying descent into infinity. His gaze fell into it, mesmerised by the endless repetition.

  On a hunch, he changed the recursion slightly, his thoughts shaping the energy within the sphere, favouring a different ratio, a new set of parameters. The patterns expanded outward, forming another variation, a new fractal that spun, large and luminous, within the confines of the glass. He realised the potential this item held, the sheer power at his fingertips. With it, he could visualise and practice his understanding of fractals, experiment with different forms, and refine his techniques in a way that had never before been possible.

  “Ether?” he asked, his voice hesitant. “Can I keep this?”

  A complicated sensation pulsed from the Archive, a wave of energy washing over him, carrying a meaning that was both yes and no. Was that a maybe? He wasn’t sure.

  “Finish the puzzle, Kor,” Lentus reminded him, his mental voice a calm counterpoint to his racing thoughts.

  “Oh, so it is a puzzle.”

  He grinned foolishly, his earlier apprehension replaced by a surge of excitement, returning his focus to the spinning magical fractal within the sphere. The galaxy shape he’d been trying to form! Yes, he could feel it now, that understanding he’d been lacking, the key to its creation, clear in his mind.

  With careful focus, he regained control of the glass sphere, his mana weaving through the chaotic energy within, shaping it, guiding it. He seeded the pattern, the initial form taking shape, as a subconscious part of his mind assisted, setting the spiral into motion, the gears and levers of his newfound understanding working in concert.

  Spiralling outward, slowly at first, then with increasing speed and complexity, the galaxy took form. He couldn’t help but grin, a wide, almost giddy expression, as he watched his creation unfold. He didn’t need to provide any extra energy. The magical glass device sustaining the fractal, drawing on some unknown source. His galaxy spun within it, a miniature universe contained inside the sphere, its shape complete and breathtakingly beautiful.

  Ether’s mana washed over him again, a cool wave that brought with it a momentary disorientation, a feeling of being unmoored, as he emerged into the familiar surroundings of the library’s lobby. The Archive’s approval seemed infectious, filling the space as the whole entrance area lit up with a soft, verdant green glow that pulsed with gentle energy. Several people looked up, startled by the sudden illumination, their conversations faltering. A librarian, her grey hair pulled back in a severe bun, glanced up from her work, her eyes widening slightly before she offered him a curt nod of approval, then returned to her task, a faint murmur breaking out amongst the students.

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  He’d done it! He wanted to jump up and down, to shout his triumph to the world. Instead, he took a deep breath, letting the joy swell within him, a warm, expansive feeling in his chest. Not to mention, Ether had left him with the parting gift of the Fractal Trainer, a tool that would undoubtedly prove invaluable in his future studies.

  “Now that we’re back on speaking terms, Ether,” Kor said, as the Archive focused its attention on him, its presence a comforting weight in the room, “would you be able to find me some books on…” His voice faded away as Ether’s attention drifted away, its amusement ringing in his mind as its presence receded, leaving him to his own devices.

  “I guess that would be asking too much,” he sighed, but he couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  Holding on to the Fractal Trainer, he returned his gaze to the miniature galaxy he’d formed, still spinning silently within the glass sphere. Just how powerful are my fractals going to be now? With a profound shift in his understanding, combined with a new practice tool—the possibilities seemed endless.

  All that was left was to find some books on heaters. Hopefully professor Yue could help him out again. Her knowledge was encyclopaedic, and if anyone other than Ether would know where to look, it would be her.

  The ten credits, warm against his thigh, pulsed like a second heartbeat. He turned from Terra’s office, his mind already leaping ahead, a strategist plotting his next campaign. Professor Moss. The name conjured images of complex shapes swirling in mid-air, objects dancing to the silent orchestra of mana manipulation, and the shimmering, almost imperceptible hum of nascent full-body barriers. Mid-terms. His jaw tightened.

  He was more than prepared for Moss’s practical challenges, a confidence forged in the crucible of personal effort and Talen’s seasoned tutelage. Fundamentals of Mana, however, loomed like an unclimbed peak. It wasn’t a lack of intellect that held him back, but time, that most precious and finite of resources. He simply hadn’t had the chance to dedicate himself to these theoretical intricacies. Concepts like the innate rejection of foreign mana by a living body – an invisible, instinctive shield – were not beyond his grasp, merely unexplored territory. Similarly, the complex dance of mana expenditure at a distance, with its subtle ebbs and flows, was a subject he was eager to master, given the opportunity. Now, he resolved, that opportunity had arrived. He would conquer this peak, not through brute force, but through focused study and the application of his sharp mind.

  Then there was the matter of the blockages. These invisible knots within his own body were anathema to efficient meditation. Terra’s frequent reminders about clearing them echoed in his mind, each one a prickle of unease. His mana pool, once a placid lake, was now a roaring sea, its vastness a double-edged sword. His control, honed to a razor’s edge, meant recovery lagged behind, a slow, frustrating crawl. Emptying his reserves would leave him stranded, adrift for a full half hour before his internal wellspring refilled.

  The advanced gathering technique. Terrak’s words, once a distant promise, now felt like a lifeline. He hadn’t even begun to explore its depths. A new thought sparked, a flicker of curiosity in the midst of his anxieties. Just how many mana spheres could he conjure now? The question tugged at him, a testament to his meteoric progress. He was eager to measure his current capabilities against each other.

  The following week was a maelstrom of focused effort. The grand library, with its hushed atmosphere and the comforting scent of aged parchment and well-worn leather, became his haven. Time unravelled within its towering shelves, hours melting away as he wrestled with dense tomes on arcane heaters and complex mana theory, the words blurring into a sea of intricate diagrams and arcane symbols.

  Then, seeking a counterpoint to the stillness of study, he would escape to the training fields. Under the expanse of the twin suns, he practised, the air alive with the murmur of other students and the crackle of their spells.

  It was as he sat under his favourite tree in the training fields, its broad branches offering a welcome canopy of shade, that he ran into Viree again. He watched, fascinated, as she launched herself across the training field like a human projectile, her magic transforming her limbs into something more akin to rubber bands than flesh and bone. She moved with a fluid grace, her blonde ponytail whipping behind her like a banner, each movement imbued with an almost elastic energy.

  What was her magic specialisation, anyway? Everything she’d done seemed to enhance her own physical capabilities, relying on magic-infused mana spheres and barriers. Though she had imparted some extra quality of her magic on those, too. Whereas most barriers were rigid, hers rippled and flexed under stress. He’d even seen her mana spheres bounce off the grass instead of colliding or dissipating. Bouncing? Elasticity? It was hard to even guess.

  He observed her as she catapulted through the air, a wide grin on her face, only to lose her footing upon landing and skid through the grass toward him, kicking up a small furrow of dirt. She landed in a heap at the base of the tree, her amber eyes wide with surprise.

  “Viree!” Kor said, standing up and moving to help her, only for her to leap to her feet, brushing the grass and dirt from her robes. He watched as her face lit up, a radiant smile blooming as she turned to him.

  “You said something about wanting to practise together sometime...” Heat rose to his cheeks, a familiar warmth he was still trying to get used to, and he averted his gaze under her intense look.

  “Yes! Let’s get started. But don’t go easy on me!” Eagerness, both exciting and a little intimidating, filled her voice.

  He chuckled. “That’s what I should say; you’re ranked higher than me, remember?”

  She laughed, a bright, musical sound that sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. They walked to the centre of the training field, the late afternoon suns warm on their backs, and stood apart, readying their magics. A comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the rustling of grass and the distant sounds of other students practicing.

  He hadn’t had a full chance to fully incorporate his enhanced understanding of fractals yet, but even so, his barriers had risen to a whole other level. They hadn’t just become more powerful, but efficient, too. Small, almost imperceptible shifts to the branching patterns within his constructs enabled him to create barriers that seemed to support and reinforce each other, like interwoven steel cables within a bridge, each strand adding to the overall strength of the structure.

  No matter what she did, her spells simply couldn’t penetrate his overlapping snowflake design. He chose not to show his latest galaxy fractal work since it was far from ready, and would clearly demonstrate he was not a snowflake mage. But in the end, it made no difference.

  After a few minutes of her barraging his defences, his barrier and mana held strong as two of his spheres finally tagged her, breaking through her weakened barrier—her student badge lighting up gold. She stumbled back, her chest heaving as she drew in deep breaths, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and admiration as he approached. The faint scent of ozone, a byproduct of their clashing magic, lingered in the air.

  “Your barriers, Kor. What have you done? They’re insane!” She exclaimed, her voice breathless. There was a hint of awe in her tone that made his chest swell with pride.

  He grinned, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “Passed another of Ether’s tests... It came with some major upsides.”

  “Really? That’s great!” She moved closer, her warmth washing over him like a comforting wave, the scent of her sweat and fresh earth filling his nostrils. He fought the urge to step back, instead meeting her gaze with a newfound confidence. “I think you should give it a try. If it works as well for you, I can only imagine how dangerous you would become.”

  She laughed. “Thanks, Kor—I’ll definitely have to do that. I’ve got my work cut out for me if I don’t want to lose my spot.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve still got Perri to take down first. You’ve got some time.” He managed a grin of his own, a genuine smile that felt surprisingly easy to offer.

  “Let’s not waste any more time. I want some more practice!” Her eyes sparkled with competitive energy, her earlier exhaustion seemingly forgotten.

  “Don’t you need to regenerate first?”

  “Ah, well, yeah.” She blushed slightly, the colour rising in her cheeks.

  They sat down to meditate, the cool grass soft beneath them, alternating between duels and meditation practice for the rest of the afternoon. The suns dipped lower in the sky, painting the clouds with hues of orange and purple as they worked, the air growing cooler with the approaching evening.

  As they finished up, Viree invited him to watch the duel with her and her friend, and so he found himself agreeing to come with Talen. A sense of anticipation bubbled up inside him; he was just glad they’d moved past that previous incident. He doubted Talen would mind, and it would be a great chance for his friends to get to know each other.