The streets of Ebonreach seemed brighter as Lyra and I made our way back to the small room we were renting. The weight of the evaluation had lifted, replaced by the strange thrill of passing a test I hadn't even expected to take a week ago.
"You looked like you were going to pass out for a moment," Lyra said, smirking as she adjusted the strap of her bag.
"I thought I was," I admitted. "When they told me to expand the flame, I almost lost it."
"Almost, but you didn't," she said. "That's what matters. Still, don't get cocky. Passing as a novice means you've barely scratched the surface."
"I didn't need the reminder," I said, though her words didn't dampen the small flicker of pride I felt.
"Good." She glanced toward the spires of the Grand Archive, their jagged silhouettes cutting into the sky. "Now the real work begins."
Cerys was waiting for us at the Observatory, her sharp eyes scanning me as we entered her chamber. The relic sat on her desk, surrounded by open books and scattered notes. The air around it still carried that faint hum of latent magic, like a low whisper only just audible.
"Well?" she asked, leaning back in her chair. "Did you pass?"
I nodded, resisting the urge to smile. "I'm officially a novice."
"Impressive," she said, her tone neutral but her eyes appraising. "You've taken the first step. But don't let it go to your head. Novices are plentiful—powerful mages are rare."
"I'm aware," I said.
"Good," she replied. "Then we can proceed. As my assistant, you'll be working directly under me. Your tasks will be tedious, at least at first, but they'll prepare you for the more challenging responsibilities to come."
"What exactly does that mean?" Lyra asked, her tone sharp.
Cerys smiled faintly. "It means he'll be cataloging relics, assisting with magical studies, and performing other tasks that will keep him too busy to get into trouble."
"Convenient," Lyra muttered.
"Necessary," Cerys corrected. "The Concord's rules are strict, and you'll need to tread carefully if you want to remain in their good graces. Your position is a privilege, not a right."
I clenched my jaw but nodded. "Understood."
The next few days passed in a blur of monotonous tasks. Cerys kept me busy organizing her notes, translating fragments of old texts, and studying the basics of magical theory. It was tedious work, but each task revealed a new layer of understanding about the world of magic—and the Grand Archive that lay just out of reach.
Lyra stayed close but kept her distance during my lessons, often standing by the window or sharpening her blade while I worked. Her presence was steadying, a reminder of why we were here, even when the tasks felt endless.
One evening, as I pored over a particularly dense text about mana channels, I leaned back in my chair with a groan.
"This is impossible," I said, rubbing my temples.
Lyra looked up from her spot by the door, her eyebrow raised. "What's the problem now?"
"The way they describe mana flow," I said, gesturing to the book. "It's like trying to explain how to breathe but making it sound ten times more complicated."
She smirked faintly. "Magic isn't natural to everyone, Aric. You're not going to get it overnight."
"I know, but—" I stopped, my hand brushing the pendant at my chest. Its warmth was a constant reminder of the power I carried, even if I didn't fully understand it.
"You've done more in a few days than most people do in weeks," Lyra said, her tone softening. "Don't let a little frustration stop you."
Cerys returned later that evening, her arms full of books and scrolls that she dropped unceremoniously onto the desk.
"How's the novice doing?" she asked, glancing at me.
"Frustrated," Lyra said before I could answer.
"Good," Cerys said with a faint smile. "Frustration is the first step to progress."
I frowned. "I thought progress was the first step to progress."
"Only for those without ambition," she said, her tone sharp. "For the rest of us, frustration is the push we need to move forward."
She pulled one of the books from the pile and opened it, revealing a diagram of a human figure surrounded by glowing lines. "You've been studying mana flow, yes?"
"Trying to," I said.
"Then let's make it practical," she said. "Stand up."
I obeyed, pushing back my chair and stepping into the center of the room.
"Mana channels run through your body like rivers," she said, gesturing to the diagram. "Novices often struggle because they treat mana as a tool, something external that they manipulate. But mana is a part of you. It flows through you, around you, and within you. The key is to let it move naturally, without forcing it."
She stepped closer, her sharp eyes watching me intently. "Close your eyes. Focus on your breathing."
I did as she said, the room fading as I centered my thoughts. The pendant at my chest pulsed faintly, its warmth steady and grounding.
"Feel the flow of energy," Cerys said. "Not just within you, but around you. The air, the ground, the very walls of this room are filled with magic. Reach for it."
I reached out with my senses, searching for the elusive current I'd felt before. It came slowly, like the first drops of rain on parched soil, but it was there—a faint, steady hum that seemed to vibrate through my chest.
"Good," she said. "Now draw it in. Let it flow through you."
The current grew stronger as I pulled it toward me, its warmth spreading through my body. It wasn't just the pendant anymore—it was everywhere, a steady rhythm that resonated with my own heartbeat.
"Now shape it," Cerys said. "Focus on a single point. A spark, a flame, anything small and contained."
I concentrated, picturing the small flame I'd summoned during the evaluation. The energy gathered at my fingertips, flickering faintly before taking shape.
"Release it," she said.
The flame flared briefly before fading, leaving only a faint warmth in its wake.
"Not bad," Cerys said, her tone grudgingly approving. "You're still rough, but you're improving."
I opened my eyes, the room coming back into focus. Lyra stood by the window, her expression unreadable as she watched.
"Keep practicing," Cerys said, turning back to her desk. "The basics are just the beginning."
As the evening wore on, I returned to my notes, my mind buzzing with the possibilities of what I'd just experienced. The flow of mana felt more natural now, like a river finally finding its course.
"You're getting there," Lyra said quietly.
I nodded, the faint pulse of the pendant steady against my chest. For the first time, the frustration I'd felt earlier seemed distant. The path ahead was still daunting, but it felt achievable.