Amberine sat hunched over her desk in the cramped dormitory room, the air thick with the scent of burnt parchment and frustration. Her hands were ink-stained, her hair a chaotic tangle from countless hours of stress-induced tugging. She stared intently at the five different parts of the magic circle sprawled across her desk. The task was deceptively simple: harmonize these disassembled pieces into a single, functional circle. Yet, the connections were more philosophical than functional, and that's where her struggles lay.
"Come on, come on," Amberine muttered, her voice a mix of desperation and determination. She carefully poured a trickle of mana into the circles, watching as the lines glowed faintly. Her eyes widened with hope as the glow intensified, the circles beginning to harmonize. But just as quickly, the glow faded, the lines sputtering before a small puff of smoke rose from the parchment.
