The library had become my refuge, but I could feel the weight of Master Thaelon's words settling on me. I couldn't keep running from what was happening, and my reluctance had become a barrier to my progress. I decided to change that.
The next morning, I found myself at the Academy's training grounds, earlier than usual. The sun had barely risen, casting a soft golden light over the dew-covered grass. The place was quiet, with only the distant hum of the city and the occasional rustle of leaves breaking the silence.
I stood alone in the middle of the grounds, staring at the faint mist that clung to the air. My magic felt different now, more responsive, almost eager to be used. I clenched my fists, then released them, focusing on the sensation of energy flowing beneath my skin. It was time to stop holding back.
With a sharp intake of breath, I extended my hand, summoning the first spell I'd ever mastered—Gale's Pulse, a simple wind spell designed to push opponents back. A gust of wind whipped around me, ruffling my clothes and disturbing the mist. But this time, instead of just pushing outward, I tried to control it, bending the wind to my will.
The gust swirled around me, forming a vortex that spun faster and faster until it lifted small rocks and leaves into the air. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I concentrated, pushing the limits of the spell, forcing it to grow beyond its intended purpose. The wind howled, but I held it together, shaping it into a controlled sphere of force.
Suddenly, the pressure became too much, and the vortex exploded outward with a loud crack, sending a shockwave across the training grounds. I stumbled back, heart racing. The force had been more than I expected, but I had managed to control it—mostly.
"Not bad," a voice said from behind me.
I spun around to see Kara standing at the edge of the grounds, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. "You're getting better," she added, walking toward me. "But you're still pushing too hard."
I wiped the sweat from my brow, catching my breath. "I have to. The power isn't going to wait for me to catch up."
Kara raised an eyebrow. "That's one way to look at it. But pushing without control can be dangerous."
Her words echoed Master Thaelon's warnings, but I shook my head. "I don't have time for slow progress. The Order of the Veil is watching, and I need to be ready."
Kara sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I get it, Eryx. But you can't rush this. Power like this—it's not something you can just force. You need balance. Let it flow, don't try to control every aspect."
I nodded, though it was easier said than done. Still, I took her advice to heart. Over the next few days, we trained together, focusing on precision and control. Kara's magic was different from mine—she specialized in elemental fire, with spells that could burn through metal or light up a room with a snap of her fingers. Watching her in action was like seeing a dance of flames; every move was deliberate, calculated.
One afternoon, as we practiced, she paused to observe my technique. "You've got a lot of raw potential, but it's like you're fighting against your own magic. Try to sync with it instead."
I frowned, unsure what she meant. "Sync with it?"
She nodded. "Magic isn't just something you wield; it's part of you. You need to feel it, trust it. Instead of forcing it into shapes or patterns, let it guide you."
I stared at her for a moment, then turned my attention back to the air around me. I'd always seen magic as a tool, something I commanded and controlled. But Kara's approach was more…intuitive. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, and this time, instead of trying to force the wind, I let it come to me.
The magic responded, not with the chaotic energy I'd expected, but with a calm, steady current. The wind wrapped around me, swirling gently, and I realized what Kara meant. It wasn't about control—it was about understanding, about letting the magic flow through me naturally.
"That's it," Kara said softly, her voice filled with approval.
I opened my eyes, the wind still gently circling me. It felt…different. Less like a tool, and more like an extension of myself. I wasn't commanding the magic anymore—I was working with it.
The realization was profound. For the next few weeks, my training changed. I focused less on power and more on precision, on understanding the magic rather than forcing it into submission. It wasn't easy—years of instinct fought against this new approach—but slowly, I began to improve.
Kara was always there, watching, guiding me when I faltered. "You're getting the hang of it," she said one day as I effortlessly called a gust of wind to carry a small object across the training grounds.
I nodded, the satisfaction of progress warming my chest. "Thanks. I couldn't have done it without your help."
She shrugged, though I could see the pride in her eyes. "That's what friends are for."
The word "friends" hung in the air between us, and I realized how much had changed. I'd always been reluctant to trust, to let anyone get close. But now, standing here with Kara, I felt…different. Maybe it was the magic, or maybe it was something else, but the walls I'd built around myself were slowly coming down.
But even as I grew stronger, there was a shadow that loomed over everything—the Order of the Veil. They hadn't made any direct moves, but I could feel their presence like a constant itch at the back of my mind. They were waiting, watching, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they acted.
One night, after another exhausting training session, I found myself back in the library, pouring over ancient texts about the Veiled Sovereign and the prophecy. The more I learned, the more unsettled I became. The Veiled Sovereign wasn't just a figure of legend; they were something far more dangerous, something tied to the very fabric of magic itself.
And I was at the center of it all.
I closed the book, rubbing my eyes in frustration. How had I ended up here? A reluctant mage, caught in a web of prophecy and power I never wanted. The answers still eluded me, but one thing was clear—I couldn't run from this any longer. Whatever was coming, I had to be ready.
The next day, I met Kara at the training grounds again, but this time something felt different. There was an unease in the air, a tension neither of us could ignore.
"What's wrong?" I asked, noticing the way she kept glancing over her shoulder.
Kara hesitated, then spoke in a low voice. "The Order of the Veil. They've been asking questions about you."
I felt a chill run down my spine. "What kind of questions?"
"Dangerous ones," she said, her expression grim. "They know about your connection to the prophecy. They're getting bolder."
I clenched my fists, feeling the familiar surge of magic beneath my skin. "Then it's time I stopped hiding. If they're coming for me, I'll be ready."
Kara nodded, though there was a flicker of worry in her eyes. "Just…don't do anything reckless. We'll figure this out. Together."
For the first time, I felt a strange sense of resolve. I wasn't alone in this anymore. Kara, Dalen, even Professor Lyra—they were all part of this now. And together, we would face whatever came next.
But deep down, I knew the hardest choices were yet to come.