When I arrived at the dining hall, it was already almost empty. The lunch rush had passed, leaving only a handful of scattered students finishing their meals. Lina and Erick were nowhere to be seen, probably having already left for their afternoon classes.

  Slightly disappointed, I made my way to one of the middle tables. The food still looked decent, though most serving platters were half-empty now, picked over by earlier arrivals. I grabbed what remained of the roasted vegetables and some bread, settling into a seat with a view of the entrance. Just in case they showed up late.

  They didn't.

  Throughout lunch, I kept training with the focusing sphere, determined to make progress. The guide Emberheart had given me started with basic forms, and I was still stuck on the very first one: a simple circle.

  I held the sphere in my palm, channeling mana into it, trying to visualize a perfect circle forming in its center. The mana gathered, swirling, beginning to take shape…

  It looked more like a drunk octagon trying to pretend it was round.

  The form wobbled constantly, edges rippling like water disturbed by wind. If I lost focus even for a second, the whole thing collapsed into scattered mana.

  Why is this so hard?

  Writing rules was effortless. I thought of the command, drew the symbols, and reality obeyed. This? This was like trying to sculpt smoke with my bare hands while blindfolded.

  The almost-circle destabilized completely as if to mock my frustration, dissolving into nothing.

  I sighed and focused on my food instead. At least eating didn't require precision mana control.

  A few tables over, I noticed a group of students whispering and glancing in my direction. When I made eye contact, they quickly looked away. The prince's mark was still doing its work, it seemed.

  I wondered if Aurora's team had been announced yet, or if anyone even knew who'd signed up for which side. The competition was only two days away, and I still had no idea what to expect.

  I finished my meal quickly and headed for my next class.

  I tried to reach Magical Ethics as quickly as possible, but the classroom was on the opposite side of campus from the main hall where Ethics was held. I arrived about a minute late, slightly out of breath.

  Opening the door as quietly as I could, I was immediately faced with a packed lecture hall. It seemed like every first-year student in the academy was crammed into this room, filling every seat and even standing along the walls.

  Director Stormweaver stood at the front, a commanding presence even in stillness. He was an older man with steel-gray hair and sharp eyes that seemed to track every movement in the room. His voice carried easily without seeming to strain.

  He didn't pause his lecture when I entered, continuing seamlessly about the fundamentals of ethics and how they differed for mages compared to ordinary citizens.

  I scanned the room and spotted Lina about halfway up the tiered seating. There was an empty seat beside her, probably saved for... someone. I made my way up the steps as discreetly as possible, trying not to draw attention.

  I slipped into the seat next to her.

  She turned, and the look she gave me could have frozen fire.

  "You don't show up for studying, then don't show up for lunch, and now arrive late to class?!" she whispered furiously, her voice barely audible but dripping with irritation.

  "Sorry," I whispered back. "Had a problem after my last class, and Emberheart's given me a ton of homework to catch up on."

  "We'll talk about this later." She turned forward with obvious finality, returning to her meticulously organized notes.

  I pulled out my own notebook, but within minutes I had the focusing sphere in my lap under the desk, hidden from view. My attention split between the director's lecture and attempting that infuriating circle again.

  Director Stormweaver was discussing something about "higher responsibility" and "the duty inherent to those with power," but my mind was too focused on making even minimal progress before tomorrow's private lesson.

  The mana wobbled. Collapsed. Reformed slightly better. Collapsed again.

  At one point, Lina glanced over and saw what I was doing. She gave me another withering look before deliberately shifting her chair a few inches away from me.

  By the time class ended, I'd managed to create something that held its shape for almost five full seconds before destabilizing. It was progress, technically. Just... very, very slow progress.

  When Director Stormweaver dismissed us, Lina turned to me immediately, her expression a mixture of curiosity and continued irritation.

  "So Emberheart has you doing mana training?" She gestured toward the focusing sphere I was still holding.

  "Yeah. Apparently my mana reserves are average, so we need to work on improving my output and control."

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  "Your mana is average?" Her eyebrows rose. "But wasn't the whole point of your duel with Mary that you had uncontrollable power? That you couldn't regulate it properly?"

  Oh no.

  I'd forgotten about that story. The official explanation Emberheart had crafted to explain my unranked status.

  "I meant my control," I said quickly, trying to salvage it. "I have power, but I can't even access half of it properly. That's why—"

  "Stop." She held up a hand, her expression shifting from irritation to something more tired. "Just... stop. I'm not asking you to tell me everything, Kai. We've known each other for less than a week. I get that you have secrets."

  She gathered her things, but slower this time, less angry.

  "What bothers me is that you keep making up new lies instead of just saying 'I can't tell you.' Do you think I'm stupid? That I don't notice when your stories don't match up?"

  "No, I don't think—"

  "I'm trying to help you. I'm trying to be your friend." Her voice was softer now, more hurt than angry. "But if you're going to lie to my face every time I ask a simple question, then what's the point? Just... just tell me you can't explain. I can accept that. But don't insult my intelligence with bad cover stories."

  She stood, shouldering her bag.

  "I'm not mad that you're hiding things. I'm mad that you think I'm dumb enough to believe the lies." She paused at the end of the row. "Think about it."

  Then she left.

  I stayed in my seat as the lecture hall emptied around me, staring at the focusing sphere in my hands. The partial circle I'd managed earlier mocked me from within the glass.

  She was right. I could have just said "I can't tell you" instead of making up increasingly stupid excuses. But something about admitting I was keeping secrets felt more dangerous than lying poorly.

  Stupid logic, probably.

  I needed to figure this out. Soon.

  I spent the rest of Thursday evening in my room, alternating between training with the focusing sphere and reading the novel Emberheart had assigned.

  The book was actually engaging once I got past the somewhat dramatic opening. It followed a protagonist who'd decided to meet the Goddess of Magic by mastering every school of magic in existence. A lofty goal for someone with average magical talent.

  I guess I understand wanting to meet her…

  According to the novel's worldbuilding, all forms of standard magic derived from mana control, but people could be born with different affinities—natural inclinations that made certain types of magic easier to grasp.

  He himself had no particular affinity, which put him at a disadvantage. But his companions each specialized in different areas: one had an affinity for fire, another for creation magic, a third for lightning. Meanwhile, the antagonist wielded darkness magic with terrifying efficiency.

  The book explained that if you had an affinity for fire magic, even a basic mana construct would naturally catch flame without needing to shape it into a proper spell. The magic simply... leaned in that direction.

  I thought about the wobbly circle I'd been struggling with all day. If I had an affinity for something, would it be easier? Would the mana naturally want to take certain shapes?

  Was that what Emberheart had? Some natural affinity for fire that made everything he touched feel warm?

  I kept reading until my eyes grew heavy, the novel falling onto my chest as I drifted off.

  Friday morning arrived too quickly.

  Inscribing with Professor Crowley was my first class. The class was almost laughably easy for me. Ancient script appeared in my mind fully formed whenever I thought about creating rules, so I didn't need to memorize symbols or study their meanings. They just... existed in my understanding.

  Which meant I had to deliberately pretend to struggle.

  "The third rune is problematic," I said to my partner for the day's exercise, a quiet girl who seemed terrified of talking to the "undesirable" student. "I keep confusing it with the seventh."

  "They're not similar at all," she mumbled, then quickly looked away.

  Right. I needed to be better at this.

  By contrast, the focusing sphere exercises were genuinely difficult. During every break in the professor's lecture, I'd pull it out and attempt the circle again.

  Wobble. Collapse. Reform. Wobble. Collapse.

  "You can't even make the circle?"

  I looked up to find Theo standing beside my desk, his expression somewhere between amused and concerned. When had he gotten there?

  "No," I admitted reluctantly. "It just wobbles around, never stabilizing."

  Before I could protest, he snatched the sphere from my hands. "Let me see that."

  Theo took it and channeled his mana. A perfect sphere formed instantly in the center. Then it shifted to a triangle. Then a star. Each shape crisp and stable, held for several seconds before he smoothly transitioned to the next.

  "It's pretty easy," he said, handing it back to me. "You just need to focus on the form itself, not the mana. Think about the shape you want, and the mana follows."

  He studied me for a moment, then nodded as if reaching a conclusion.

  "But maybe that's exactly why Emberheart is interested in you. You're probably hiding massive power, and doing these tiny, precise constructs would be genuinely challenging when you're used to large-scale magic. Like asking a siege mage to paint miniatures."

  He seemed satisfied with his own explanation, smiling like he'd solved a great mystery.

  "I guess something like that," I said, not bothering to correct him. At least this explanation was better than people thinking I'd explode with uncontrolled magic at any moment.

  "Can't wait to see what you can do at the competition!" His enthusiasm was almost infectious. "It's going to be incredible watching you cut loose."

  Theo had obviously signed up for the event on Aurora’s team. Not even the Prince could stop him from getting ordered around by a cute and powerful girl. His actual words when I'd asked why.

  "Don't get your hopes up too high," I said, trying to manage expectations. "I've had barely a week of training with Emberheart."

  "You're just being humble." Theo waved off my concerns. "From what you did to Mary, you're probably close to the top of A-rank right now in raw power. If you just stay away from the prince and his elite students, you should be able to beat everyone else easily."

  I let out a long breath, giving up on any further discussion. There was no convincing Theo that I wasn't some hidden powerhouse about to revolutionize the competition.

  The rest of the class continued in much the same vein. Theo asked questions about my training with Emberheart, about Lina, about whether I thought Aurora would actually acknowledge the team or just do everything herself.

  I answered when I could, deflected when I couldn't, and continued failing to create a stable circle in the focusing sphere.

  By the time class ended, I'd made progress. The circle held for nearly ten seconds now before collapsing.

  Only one more class before my private lesson with Emberheart. One more class before I had to show him what little I'd accomplished.

  I just hoped it would be enough.