Elian hesitated outside the weathered oak door labeled "Enhancement Workshop." His heart hammered a nervous rhythm against his ribs. Battle Mage had sounded like a guaranteed path to glory during Specialization selection, but now, standing before the actual classroom, the air felt thick with an unexpected quiet.
He pushed open the door with a creak, the sound echoing in the dimly lit room. The space was sparsely furnished, littered with dusty tables overflowing with vials and strange contraptions reminiscent of a mad scientist's lair. Only three other students occupied the echoing room, scattered like tumbleweeds in a dusty saloon.
A wave of disappointment washed over Elian. He'd pictured a bustling classroom brimming with students trading battle strategies, crackling with magical energy. Instead, it felt more like a forgotten museum exhibit on the verge of being condemned.
He cleared his throat, the sound loud in the sudden silence. A woman with fiery red hair and a well-worn leather jerkin sitting at a dusty table glanced up. Her eyes, sharp as flint, scanned him before softening slightly.
"First year?" she asked, her voice surprisingly gentle.
Elian flushed, feeling like a colossal poser. "Third year, actually. Just... new to the path."
A wry smile tugged at the woman's lips. "Ah, right. Seems Battle Mage isn't as glamorous as the rumors might have you believe. Most gravitate towards the flashy offensive magic."
Elian swallowed hard. "Maybe. But I'm here now."
"Good lad," she said, extending a hand. "Eva. And the others are..." She gestured towards the remaining students. A burly boy with a shaved head nodded curtly, not bothering with introductions. A girl no older than 15 with vibrantly dyed purple hair offered a shy smile and a mumbled "Fiona."
Elian took a seat at a nearby table, a sliver of relief seeping into his apprehension. He wasn't alone in this.
Elara, his new instructor, began her lesson with a quiet efficiency that belied the chaos of the cluttered room. Today's focus: Enhancement magic, the bread and butter of a Battle Mage.
"Think of it like tuning a lute," Eva explained, tapping a diagram on the dusty chalkboard with a piece of chalk. "Except your body is the instrument, and magic is the key that unlocks its hidden potential."
She demonstrated the concept using a simple spell, her voice low and measured. With a flick of her wrist and a whispered incantation, her hand glowed a faint blue. She picked up a metal weight from the table, imbuing it with the same ethereal light. With surprising ease, she lifted the weight that would normally have strained her muscles.
"See?" Elara said, her voice carrying over the creaking floorboards. "A little magic goes a long way. Enhancement spells can boost your strength, speed, reflexes – anything your body needs to perform at its peak."
The rest of the class was a mix of theory and practice. Elara explained the delicate balance between pushing their bodies beyond their natural limitations and avoiding the dangers of magical overload. They practiced basic hand gestures and incantations, their voices stumbling over unfamiliar syllables. The spells themselves were simple – a faint glow around their hands to signify increased strength, a barely perceptible tingle suggesting heightened reflexes.
By the end of the class, Elian's muscles were sore from exertion, and his mind ached with the influx of information. The classroom might not have been packed with eager students, but the challenge they faced was real. This was just the first step on a long path, and although it wasn't the thrilling display of raw power he'd envisioned, there was a certain satisfaction in the precision and control required.
As Elian walked out of the classroom, the weight of the leather satchel on his back felt less like a burden and more like a badge of honor. He was a Battle Mage now, and he would master this path, one small enhancement spell at a time.
A surge of energy crackled in the air as Elian pushed open the heavy oak doors marked "Warcasting 101." Unlike the sparsely populated Enhancement Workshop, this classroom buzzed with a vibrant chaos. Students milled about, clad in a motley crew of leather armor and mismatched tunics, their laughter and excited chatter filling the air. Here, unlike the dusty corners of enhancement magic, resided the heart of Battle Mage training – raw power and offensive spells.
Elian swallowed nervously as he navigated the throng of boisterous students. The classroom itself was a spectacle. Dummies fashioned from straw and wood were scattered throughout the space, some bearing the scars of previous battles (or rather, previous spells gone slightly awry). In the corner, a large metal cage housed a particularly twitchy-looking badger, its beady eyes darting around as if plotting its escape.
Suddenly, a booming voice cut through the din. A burly man with a thick black beard stood on a raised platform at the front of the class. He wore a suit of well-worn leather armor, and a broadsword hung from his hip. This was Bruenor, the legendary Warcasting instructor, renowned for his no-nonsense approach and impressive displays of magical prowess.
"Alright, maggots!" Bruenor bellowed, his voice echoing in the rafters. "Welcome to Warcasting 101. Here's where you learn to turn that fancy magic floating around in your heads into something that actually packs a punch."
The class erupted in cheers and whistles. This was what Elian had been waiting for – a taste of the real deal.
Bruenor held up a hand, silencing the room with surprising ease. Now, the focus shifted to the front as he launched into the lesson. Today's topic: basic offensive spells.
"We're starting simple," Bruenor said, pointing towards the caged badger. "The 'Spark' spell. A bread-and-butter attack for any budding Battle Mage. It's a quick burst of magical energy, like a miniature lightning bolt."
He launched into a detailed explanation of hand gestures, incantations, and the proper way to channel magic for optimal effect. Then, with a flourish, he turned to the caged badger. With a flick of his wrist and a muttered incantation, a small ball of crackling energy shot from his hand and struck the bars of the cage. The badger yelped, startled, but otherwise unharmed.
The class erupted in cheers and nervous laughter. Elian felt a thrill course through him. This was it. He could practically feel the magic thrumming in his veins.
The rest of the class was a blur of practice and correction. Students took turns channeling the Spark spell, some with more success than others. A few managed to create a decent spark, while others ended up with sputtering wisps of fizzling energy. Elian, his heart pounding in his chest, stepped forward when his turn came.
He mimicked Bruenor's movements, focusing all his concentration on channeling the magical energy. With a shaky breath, he uttered the incantation, "Igneus Spark!" A spark, brighter than any in the room so far, shot from his hand and struck the dummy with a satisfying pop, leaving a small scorch mark.
A wave of exhilaration washed over Elian. He'd done it! He wasn't a master yet, but the spark of potential flickered within him, as bright as the spell he'd just cast. As Bruenor bellowed his approval, Elian couldn't help but grin – Warcasting might be a chaotic whirlwind, but it was exactly where he belonged.