42nd of Sifdras - 6th Ivora

  Alchemy has been going better since Cira has been lending me her notes. Almost every time I review them, I have a new question for her, which she is more than happy to discuss. I realize, every time, that these are questions I never asked Mother, the accomplished alchemist, and likely should have. It makes me feel like I was taking her tutoring for granted and now that she isn’t here, I am paying the price for it.

  It’s not so bad, though, I think to myself when I feel particularly discouraged. Now I get to earn that information through hard work and study. Not to mention deepen my friendship with Cira by asking her about a subject she is truly passionate about.

  I give her a smile at the thought in our Alchemy class while we are going over some of the essay questions that Professor Greenborrow has given us for this week. Cira returns the smile and finds the next question, reading it aloud. “Site the differences between a potion and a magical infusion.”

  My expression turns thoughtful as I mull over all of Cira’s notes in my mind. “Well, a potion is brewed, generally. Taking the use of fire and air and, in most cases, water. A magical infusion is a solution with magical properties that doesn’t need to be brewed, but can take longer for full potency due to…” My voice trails off as I notice Professor Greenborrow has come to our desk to eavesdrop on my answer.

  They give a toothy grin, saying in their raspy voice, “due to… come on, Seretra, don’t leave me in this suspense!”

  I look at Cira who is smiling broadly at me, motioning with her hands for me to continue.

  “Due to…” I swallow hard and try to recall what I was saying, “Um, diffusion of the —uh— magical materials to mix within the entire solution…?” I end in a question rather than a statement, my words becoming more unsure as I speak.

  “YES!” Professor Greenborrow exclaims, a hand pumping a fist once in enthusiasm. “Great answer, Miss Crowfoot! We will make an alchemist out of you yet!”

  The Professor moves on and I can’t help but slump in my chair, Cira’s jubilant praises giving me a weird mixture of relief and exhaustion. Despite myself, I smile feeling that perhaps I am meant to be here after all.

  Magic Studies starts by ignoring my desk-mates while they suck face, as Munsa put it. Loudly. I take all my frustration out on practicing the spells that Calas and I went over last week. I feel like I am making good progress, finally, as I gesture confidently, manifesting a zap of lightning in the air. It crackles, leaving a burning scent in the air and I smile excitedly.

  This was the one I wasn’t able to perform last Auryn during combat class. I think how I can’t wait for this Auryn to show him that I can do it now. The thought makes me pause. Did I just feel excited to go to combat class and see Calas? I bite my lower lip while picking at my fingernails at the unease that settles over me. No, I shake myself mentally, I’m just excited to show off that I have this skill now. Yes, this makes more sense.

  Professor Moonshadow gets our attention and begins lecturing on Arcanum, tools made to perform specific magical purposes. She outlines the different types of Arcanum we will need to know for our exams, but focuses primarily on the focus type of Arcanum, the type that can enhance magical abilities.

  She explains the concept of drawing a spell through the object, which could be literally anything that is imbued as a focus, to enhance some aspect of the spell. Generally, this makes a spell more potent as the mana is somehow bolstered by moving through the focus. I am still pondering the why of this new information as we are given a piece of Arcanum to try for ourselves.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  After inspecting the item I receive, a large iridescent pearl encased in a beautiful wire filigree, I can definitely feel the magic, or rather, the potential of magic laced within it. It reminds me of my relics class and the stupid rusty beetle, so I attempt to spindle mana into the item. Much to my dismay, the pearl takes in the mana as a flame would engulf and devour parchment. Also like a fire, it seems to hum in my hand with that potential as if eager to release this energy.

  “No, Miss Crowfoot.” Professor Moonshadow’s voice is sharp as she rushes toward me, black skirts swishing. “Do not push your spell into the focus. You must draw the spell out through the focus.” She gestures for the item and I concede, giving her the pearl.

  “Ignis.” She mutters, the pearl in one hand and the other making a gesture as if to grab something from it. A she does, a ball of white hot flames is drawn out, formed by all that potential mana. The fiery orb hangs above her gesturing hand before she closes her fist, extinguishing it and spreading little threads of fire all around us.

  The professor hands me the pearl back and I take it with thanks. Now that I have seen it, I know that the spell comes from the focus. On the other side of my observation, I also know I cannot make use of the incantation that Professor Moonshadow used as an example. Instead, I think of that little lightning spell I was practicing before class started.

  Pearl in one hand, I make the staccato gesture with my other, but instead of calling the threads to me, I call it from the pearl. Blue-white lightning shoots from the pearl to my gesturing hand in a flash, the familiar burnt air scent filling my nostrils. I look up with joy at the professor, but halt my elation when I see her frowning.

  “Yes, very good Miss Crowfoot, but please do not use combat spells in my class room again.” She walks on to another group of scribes down in the first row of desks and I heave a sigh.

  What does it take to impress her? Even when I do it right, I’m doing it wrong! I hate this class!

  43rd of Sifdras - 7th Emder

  I am excited to get to my Relics class today as I am confident now of my mapping of the stupid beetle’s aetherial lattice. My notes have outlined the thread compositions and I now have a sound theory on what the enchantment actually does. All that is left for me now, is to test it! I hurriedly gather my supplies and the beetle from the materials cabinet and in my haste, nearly run into Vesa.

  “Woah, there! Where’s the fire?!”, she says, narrowly avoiding me while keeping her balance.

  “Sorry, sorry!” I exclaim in apology, still darting to my worktable. “I think I figured it out!”

  Shock is thick in her voice, “Really!? So soon!?”. There is a pause before she joins me at my desk and I can now see the excitement on her face. “This I gotta see.”

  I panic at the thought of someone watching me work and an anxiety creeps into me at the thought of Vesa witnessing me fail. But when I look at her again, she is genuinely excited, eager even, to watch me succeed. In my hesitation she adds, “I will be right here in case anything goes wrong, so don’t worry! I got you, Serea!”.

  Somehow, that is exactly what I need to hear and I feel a warm glow budding in my heart; acceptance.

  I nod to her, taking a deep breath and then turn my full attention to the beetle. I take a quick, last minute check of my notes before I begin to weave a small cluster of earth surrounded by loose tendrils of air. Once I am satisfied with my lattice, I push it down gently on the metallic outer carapace of the beetle where a small symbol of two intersecting triangles is faintly etched.

  I hold my breath in the brief moments between my lattice being absorbed by the stupid beetle and the moment the beetle springs to life. It seems like an eternity before the carapace opens in a static, mechanical way and a pair of iridescent, aetheric wings emerge. Then, the beetle begins to hover above the desk with a soft glow of the mana that now powers it. I could weep for the joy of this moment as I sit back from my work desk, finally taking a deep, relieving breath.

  At the same moment, Vesa cries out, exclaiming with the same joy I feel as she grasps my shoulders with both hands in congratulations. I glance up as Vesa starts shaking me to see the majority of the class staring back at us with a mixture of awe and excitement. Professor Lighthammer is among them with a quiet, knowing smile. He nods to me once in acknowledgment.

  In this moment, had I wings, I would soar.