The cool, still air brushed against Kor’s skin as he stood with Talen, Viree, and her friend Nona just outside the maw of the Crux. A swift exchange of introductions, a flurry of names met with polite smiles. Nona’s shoulder-length hair, the vibrant green of a spring leaf, shimmered even in the dim light. A Verdanian, just like Talen. An immediate connection sparked between the two, their conversation a lively hum that accompanied them down the circuitous path leading into the Crux. Purple torches flickered, casting long shadows that danced and writhed like living things along the rough-hewn stone walls.
The air hung heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth tinged with something sharp, almost metallic. Below them, the Crux opened up, a giant bowl carved from dark stone. Even from their vantage point high above, rows of seats were visible, divided neatly into two sections—one for students, the other for city-goers. But tonight, the vast arena was eerily quiet. Only a handful of other students picked their way down the path, their footsteps echoing softly in the stillness.
“Why so quiet?” Kor murmured, the question a low rumble against the backdrop of distant, muffled city sounds. He adjusted the bronze trim of his robes, the fabric smooth and cool beneath his fingers.
Viree shrugged, her amber eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight. “They’re some of the weakest third years. No supporters, I reckon.”
Talen and Nona were too engrossed in their own conversation to pay heed. This was his first time encountering Viree’s friend, the surrounding mana flowing smoothly around her as they walked. One of signs he’d noticed amongst those used to their powers.
What sort of magic does she wield? The green of her hair reminded him of the potted jungle in their bedroom. Probably something to do with nature. Not that he wanted to judge a book by its cover, but most Verdanians he’d encountered so far kept to the stereotype.
“Still, I would have thought more people would show up. What are they fighting over, anyway?”
Talen actually heard this, pulling himself away from his animated discussion with Nona for a moment. “A girl,” he grinned, a mischievous glint in his brown eyes, the green highlights in his hair catching the light.
“What? Really?” Kor’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Yep,” Talen leaned in, “at least that’s what I heard.”
Viree nodded in agreement, and they finally emerged into the stands, heading down toward the best seats, the ones closest to the arena floor. The air grew noticeably cooler as they descended.
“Do you, uh, come here often?” Kor asked Viree.
“Every chance I get,” Viree replied. “Though I usually prefer the big-ticket matches.” She smiled. Kor smiled back, despite the slightly disappointing turnout.
The two Verdanians continued to chatter away. A few more students filtered in, their footsteps on the stone. Then, a voice, amplified by magic, announced the competitors.
“Borus versus Klorus!”
Even from this distance, they looked alike. Two students emerged from opposite ends of the arena floor, both wearing gold-trimmed robes and sporting near-identical heavy-set faces.
“You had no right, Borus!” The first’s voice boomed across the arena, bouncing strangely off the Voidshard. Its presence was a palpable weight that reached even the spectators.
“She never even liked you anyway, Klorus,” Borus retorted, his voice laced with a weary sort of anger. “Just let it go.”
“Are they brothers?” Kor asked.
He leaned forward.
Talen laughed. “Looks like it!”
Nona, finally turning her attention from Talen, gave a small, knowing smile.
Klorus didn’t even wait for the start to be announced. His hands moved in a blur, and a shimmering brown barrier snapped into existence around him, the surrounding air faintly distorted. A heartbeat later, the sand beneath him swelled, a protrusion of muddy earth forming under his feet, speeding him across the sands like a living wave.
“Fine, have it your way, Klorus!” Borus roared, his voice thick with anger and maybe a hint of resignation. He mirrored his brother’s technique, a surge of earth propelling him forward as well. The two raced across the sands, circling wide of the ominous bulk of the Voidshard.
Two heavy earthen spheres materialised in front of each boy, coalescing from thin air. Each hurtled across the intervening distance, colliding with each other midway in a spectacular spray of earth and dust. The explosion rang out, a faint vibration shaking the walls of the arena.
Both kept moving, their movements surprisingly agile for their size. Klorus opted for a barrage of smaller earthen projectiles, but they came from odd angles, not materialising even close to his body but dozens of yards to either side before homing in on his brother. It was a showy, almost theatrical display.
“Wasteful,” Talen said. His eyes narrowed in critical assessment.
Viree nodded, her arms crossed. “Casting that far away, there’s almost no point, since they know each other’s abilities.” Her eyes tracked the projectiles.
Borus met the barrage by raising a thick wall of earth. The bulwark stood firm against the incoming attacks. The projectiles slammed against it, each impact kicking up clouds of dust, but the barrier held. It was a display of raw power, if not finesse.
Klorus, still fuming, launched himself into the air. The currents of mana around him swirled unsteadily, visible as shimmering distortions in the air, crackling with raw power. He soared above the wall, a look of grim determination etched on his face.
He extended his hands, palms facing downwards, and began the intricate process of conjuration. The air shimmered intensely as his hasty cast disturbed the ambient mana. A large, swirling vortex formed above him. Within moments, it had condensed, taking on a dull grey hue as it transformed. It wasn’t a sudden appearance; rather, the mass of stone seemed to build itself layer by layer.
“The fight is already over,” Viree announced, her voice flat, devoid of any excitement. Nona, beside her, merely nodded, her green hair swaying gently.
As the boy pumped more mana into the forming boulder, the grey deepened, the texture becoming rough and uneven, until at last, a boulder the size of a small cart hung suspended, radiating a faint heat from the sheer force of the magic holding it together. With a grunt of exertion, he hurled it down towards his brother below.
Is the attack that powerful? Kor leaned forward, his eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and anticipation. He could feel his heart beating faster, the thrill of the spectacle gripping him.
No, that wasn’t it. He focused his attention on the flow of mana, turbulent and erratic—this Klorus clearly lacked the refined control he associated with elite mages. His brother narrowly avoided the attack, his own mound of dirt ferrying him to safety with impressive speed.
Where Klorus had thrown his power around like a child splashing in a pond, his brother’s response showed hints of actual control. The stone spheres he formed weren’t anything special, still lacking the finesse he would expect of a third year—but they were undeniably potent.
The rock balls shot forth like cannonballs, propelled by a raw, focused power. Each sphere slammed into Klorus’ barrier with such kinetic energy that tossed back through the air, his body a rag-doll thrown by an invisible force. He crashed against the Voidshard with a nasty thud.
Kor winced in sympathy, his own body tensing as if he had felt the impact. But Klorus wasn’t done yet. With a grunt of effort, he braced his feet against the smooth, black surface of the crystal and kicked off, propelling himself back into the fight.
A collective intake of breath came from his friends, a sharp hiss of air. Kor belatedly realised the danger. The shard, even with that light contact, had sucked all the mana from his body. Klorus’s cry, a desperate, wordless shout, rang out as he plummeted dozens of feet. Only his brother’s quick thinking saved him. A surge of mana reached out to catch him before he could slam into the sands.
“Winner, Borus!” The announcer’s declaration echoed off empty seats, answered by scattered applause that died faster than morning dew. A few spectators were already filing out, their backs turned before Borus could even lower his barrier.
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Kor slumped against the railing, fingers drumming on the metal. “That was rather anticlimactic. Even Talen could have put up a better fight.”
“Hey!” Talen conjured a vine in response, but Kor had already anticipated it, a small fractal snowflake deflecting the attack as a grin spread across his face.
“Yeah, should’ve known it’d be another dud,” Viree sighed, stretching her arms.
Nona shook her head, her expression a mixture of pity and disapproval. “I’m surprised they even managed to pass two years of practical combat.”
Down below, the two brothers were yelling at each other, their voices echoing strangely in the vast space. The small audience that had been watching began to disperse, their footsteps echoing on the stone as they made their way out of the stands.
Kor, Viree, Talen, and Nona rose from their seats, joining the exodus. They walked in a loose group, the tension of the fight slowly dissipating.
“Well, thanks for coming, Kor,” Viree said, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Sorry, the fight wasn’t that interesting...”
“It was interesting, for me at least,” Kor said, still processing what he’d seen. “Do all third years know how to fly?”
“Yeah, they teach it in the second year,” Talen explained. “It’s an advanced control technique that all high-calibre mages should be capable of.”
“Though it’s very expensive to do so without a related technique to assist,” Viree added. “Like using wind magic to lift you up.” She shrugged, the movement casual. Nona and Talen were talking again, their voices a low murmur.
“Don’t suppose that’s an earth mage’s specialty,” Kor said, thinking aloud.
“No,” Viree grinned, a flash of mischief in her eyes. They headed up through the tunnel, the passage brief, and soon they were outside in the open air.
“Are you prepping for the upcoming expedition, Kor?” Viree asked. “You’re in a group with Marcus, right?”
“Yeah, we’ve been doing all kinds of group drills,” Kor confirmed. “It’s good practice in using my specialisation in different ways.” Though, most of the practice involved him acting as the shield—after the expedition, that would likely change.
“What about you? Do you have a group?”
“Nope!” Viree declared.
“What? Why?” Kor stared openly at her.
“She wants to make it on her own,” Nona said, amusement in her voice. “Besides, the test doesn’t actually require a group, since the points are split, anyway.”
“Wouldn’t it be problematic if you ran into the other student groups, though? I doubt there’s any way you could beat them in a fight.”
“They’d have to catch me first,” Viree grinned, jumping up with magical assistance as a brief reminder of her abilities.
“Hah, I suppose that’s true,” Kor said.
Talen leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve heard there’s a change planned for this test,” he said, his eyes darting around. “Just don’t tell anyone you heard it from me.”
Talen’s mother?
“What does that mean?” Viree asked, her brow furrowed.
“Sometimes the teachers make the objectives harder, change group sizes, stuff like that,” Talen explained, his tone serious.
Nona nodded. “With less than a month left, we all need to practise. Can’t let those credits go to waste now, can we?”
“Just how many credits is the event worth, anyway?” Kor asked.
“Depends on how hard they make the test this time,” Talen said. “Though it’s safe to assume you could earn up to a hundred. That’s been the standard in most years.”
The group emerged outside into the late afternoon air, the sounds of campus washing over them.
Kor’s stomach growled, a loud, rumbling protest that echoed in the sudden quiet. Talen laughed, a hearty, unrestrained sound, and Viree’s eyes flicked over to him, widening slightly before she quickly averted her gaze, a faint blush rising on her cheeks.
“Not yet, big guy,” Talen said, clapping him on the back with a friendly thud. “We’ve still got a few laps to run before you’ve earned that.” The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the grounds, painting the scene in hues of orange and gold.
Kor shook his head, a wry smile on his face, as Viree and Nona moved.
“We should do this again sometime, Kor,” Viree said, turning back to him, her blonde ponytail swaying. Her voice was warm, inviting. “Maybe even spar together.”
“Yeah, that sounds like fun. Though hopefully the next match will be more interesting. Don’t the professors duel sometimes?” He tried to keep his tone casual.
Viree bobbed her head, her amber eyes sparkling. “Yeah, but it’s not that common. If one occurs, we’ll definitely have to watch it together! See you in class.”
“See you.” Talen shot him a knowing smirk as the girls headed off, their laughter drifting back on the gentle breeze.
“Hey!” Kor protested, playfully shoving his friend. “I should be the one giving that wink. You and Nona were chatting non-stop.”
“Yeah,” Talen admitted, a dreamy quality entering his voice. “It’s nice speaking with someone from home, you know?” His gaze lingered in the direction Nona had gone, a soft smile playing on his lips.
Kor nodded absentmindedly, his thoughts already elsewhere. Viree was a good person, kind and friendly. She was just being nice; it wasn’t as if she looked at him in that way.
As the pair headed off to the fields, the familiar image of Lena’s dark hair and violet eyes surfaced in his thoughts. His steps faltered for a moment before shaking off the thought.
Once he’d finished losing weight, once he was fitter and more confident... then he’d ask her out. He was determined.
The month unfurled like a scroll, each day filled with intense training and dedicated study. Diligent work on the Fundamentals of Mana, poring over ancient magical texts and practising precise energy sensing, finally elevated him to Terra’s demanding standard. He even purged his remaining blockages, a painstaking process that left him feeling strangely exposed, raw—as if everything flowed through him too easily. A welcome consequence was a surge in his regenerative powers, a revitalising current that coursed through his veins.
With that hurdle passed, he’d eagerly taken on the advanced mana gathering technique that Terrak had gifted their group. The basic technique simply had them pulling in the ambient energy, a passive process that needed little effort. But Terrak’s version demanded more. It required him to connect with his own mana, consciously influence its flow, and bend it to his will.
The instructions were intricate, a complex dance of intention and focus. First, he had to solidify his intent, a clear and unwavering desire to accelerate his recovery. He had to convince his very being, on a fundamental level, that it needed to recover faster, to replenish its energy reserves at an accelerated pace.
Achieving this proved more arduous than he’d anticipated, a frustrating cycle of trial and error before he finally sensed a shift, a subtle change in his mana’s responsiveness. Only then could he proceed to the second step. This phase of the technique demanded absolute focus, a stillness of mind that proved elusive. It didn’t feel like an advanced technique, but rather a refinement, an enhancement of his existing method. Like learning to breathe all over again, he mused, but this time with conscious control and purpose.
Part of the training involved gathering while in motion, a challenging feat that stretched his concentration to its limits. With his burgeoning stamina, Talen insisted he only gather while moving. After depleting their energy reserves, the two of them would run laps together, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as Kor struggled to clear his mind. He focused on the subtle currents of mana permeating the air, the rhythmic pounding of his feet against the earth, a counterpoint to the racing of his heart.
They even sparred regularly, their friendly rivalry a catalyst for improvement. Talen, with his versatile and unpredictable plant magic, still held the upper hand. Kor deliberately held back, keeping his most potent spell, the galaxy fractal, a closely guarded secret.
Once he used it in public, his ruse would be over, revealing the true extent of his abilities. With the upcoming expedition, it seemed like the identity of “snowflake boy” wasn’t going to last for long, regardless.
Lessons and work with Terra progressed smoothly. She set him and Lena tasks designed to enhance their sensitivity to mana, subtle exercises that honed their awareness and offered hints about the impending test. The two even established regular study sessions in Ether’s Archive, a haven of peace and knowledge.
They sat at a large, round table, bathed in the soft, warm glow of mage-lights that adorned the walls. The air was thick with the comforting scent of old books, mingled with a subtle, exotic floral fragrance that clung to Lena like a second skin. The heady scent evoked images of faraway marketplaces, filled with unknown spices and vibrant blooms.
Engrossed in a thick tome, she sat with her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a silken waterfall, her brow furrowed in concentration. As she tilted her head to read, the smooth, elegant curve of her neck was revealed. She glanced over, her violet eyes catching the light, and a nervous flutter stirred in his stomach, a feeling he tried to suppress.
“Ready for next week, Kor?” she asked, her voice soft yet direct. “You’ve been practising a lot, but you still haven’t shown me your new spell.”
He grinned, a surge of pride and anticipation coursing through him. Ready for weeks, he thought, but every session in the training rooms, I find some small detail to optimise. The revelations gleaned from Ether’s second testing were proving to be an almost unfair advantage.
In Terrak’s Advanced Combat, he’d surpassed Perri, whose main tactic involved a relentless barrage of earthen spears. He had yet to overtake Viree, however. Her constant training and improvement demanded the unveiling of his latest spell. His recent breakthrough in generating spin through fractal uncertainty had significantly amplified its power output. He itched to unleash it, to witness the astonishment on everyone’s faces.
“Kor?” Lena’s voice, tinged with amusement, pulled him back to the present.
“Sorry, Lena! Got lost in thought there,” he said, sheepishly. “Yeah, I only get one big debut with a spell like this, and I want to make it count.”
She smiled back, a gentle, understanding expression that made his heart skip a beat. She shook her head slightly, a few strands of her dark hair coming loose.
“How’s your Enchanting going?” he asked, diverting the conversation. “I’ve heard there are loads of credits available to enchanters. If I’d known, I probably would’ve chosen it as a fourth elective.”
“With how much you already study and practice, I doubt you’d have any spare time left.”
She paused for a moment. “Do you even do anything just for fun?”
He was immediately stumped as he tried to answer her own question, his mind drawing a blank. Everything he did seemed to revolve around training or studying. He struggled to come up with something, anything, that he did purely for enjoyment.
“I like... making fractals?” he offered, wincing even as he said it. It sounded lame, even to his own ears.
Lena wore a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Enchanting is going well. I’ve already completed three projects.”
“Three?!” Kor exclaimed, genuinely impressed. “I’m still working on my second. Though it probably won’t be finished until midterm break.” He felt a pang of envy, but also admiration for her dedication.
They looked at each other for a long moment, a comfortable silence settling between them. The only sound was the unsteady beating of his heart. It was a moment of quiet intimacy, a shared understanding that transcended words.
Lena broke the silence, her voice slightly hesitant. “Either way, you need to be careful on the expedition, Kor,” she said, her brow furrowing with concern. “I’ve heard of mishaps in the past.”
Talen had already informed him of the dangers, the potential for accidents and unforeseen challenges. But if he was going to rise to the top, to prove himself worthy, and that required taking some risks. Besides which, he’d promised to assist Marcus, and he wasn’t going to let his friend down. He was determined to succeed, no matter the cost.
