The days leading up to the exams passed in a whirlwind of study sessions and mounting pressure. Fiona's carefully planned schedule quickly became the group's lifeline, and while some members followed it more diligently than others, there was no denying that the study group was working.
Leon spent nearly every evening hunched over his notes, scribbling down rune diagrams or practicing mana control under Lyra's patient guidance. Fiona drilled them relentlessly on theory, while Rurik provided practical demonstrations of crafting techniques that left even the professors impressed.
Mikel, however, was less consistent. His approach to studying seemed to involve equal parts joking, doodling, and coming up with increasingly creative excuses to avoid hard work.
"I'm conserving my mental energy," he said one evening when Fiona caught him napping during a theory session.
"You're conserving something, all right," she replied dryly, tossing a quill at his head.
Despite the teasing and occasional moments of chaos, the group's camaraderie deepened as they supported one another through the stress.
By the time the exams arrived, the study group had become a well-oiled—if slightly chaotic—machine.
Leon still felt a gnawing sense of dread as he stepped into the exam hall that morning, but it was tempered by the memory of his friends' encouragement. Lyra's calm reassurance, Fiona's unyielding determination, and even Mikel's ridiculous antics had all helped to steady him in their own way.
The hall was silent except for the soft rustle of parchment and the faint hum of magical wards. Professor Althea stood at the front, her sharp gaze sweeping over the rows of students.
"You may begin," she announced, her voice cutting through the air like a blade.
Leon stared at the first question on the paper, his stomach sinking.
"Describe the stabilization properties of a Tier-2 mana array and its application in counteracting external interference."
The words felt like a foreign language, their meaning slipping through his mind no matter how hard he tried to focus.
He glanced at the second question, hoping for a reprieve.
"Explain the theoretical limitations of using dual-layer runes in high-mana environments."
His hand trembled as he picked up his quill. Around him, the other students seemed absorbed in their work. Fiona was already writing with mechanical precision, her notes neat and concise. Lyra's expression was calm and focused, her quill gliding across the parchment.
Leon felt a twinge of envy as he looked at Mikel, who appeared unusually engrossed in his paper. He leaned slightly to catch a glimpse of Mikel's work—and immediately regretted it.
"If a mana array fluctuates, it's probably cursed. Solution: Run away before it explodes."
Leon's stifled laugh turned into a cough, earning a sharp glare from Professor Althea.
"Focus," Leon told himself, turning back to his paper. His quill hovered over the parchment as he struggled to conjure an answer. The seconds ticked by, each one heavier than the last.
After the grueling theory portion, the students were led to the training grounds for the practical component. The atmosphere was still tense, but the shift in setting brought a faint sense of relief.
"Your first task," Professor Althea announced, "is to stabilize the mana flow in these orbs. You have ten minutes."
Leon knelt in front of his orb, his hands trembling slightly. He closed his eyes, focusing on the lessons Lyra had drilled into him.
"Guide it, don't force it," he whispered under his breath, repeating her words like a mantra.
The orb flickered weakly, its glow uneven and unstable. He took a deep breath, trying again. This time, the light steadied, dim but consistent.
Beside him, Mikel's orb blazed with a sudden burst of light before emitting a loud pop and fizzling out entirely.
"Well, that's one way to do it," Mikel muttered, scratching the back of his head.
Further down the line, Fiona's orb glowed flawlessly, earning an approving nod from the examiner.
The final portion of the practical exam involved crafting a simple mana battery. The students worked in small groups, their stations equipped with raw materials and basic tools.
Rurik quickly took charge of Leon's group, his skill in crafting evident as he carved precise runes into the crystal core. Lyra assisted with mana flow, her movements efficient and deliberate.
Leon, tasked with assembling the casing, fumbled with the pieces, his nerves making his hands clumsy.
"Relax," Lyra said softly, stepping in beside him. Her steady hands guided his, helping him align the pieces correctly.
"Thanks," Leon mumbled, his face hot with embarrassment.
The finished product was far from perfect, but it functioned well enough to pass the examiner's inspection.
By the time the exams ended, the group was utterly exhausted. They trudged back to the dormitory in near silence, their faces pale and eyes heavy with fatigue.
"I think I crushed it," Mikel said finally, breaking the silence with a grin.
"Crushed it? Your orb exploded," Rurik replied dryly.
"Details," Mikel said with a dismissive wave. "The professors are probably still talking about it. I made an impression."
Talin snorted. "Yeah, an impression of incompetence."
Leon trailed behind the group, his thoughts heavy. He couldn't stop replaying the theory exam in his mind, each unanswered question like a weight dragging him down.
"You're too hard on yourself," Lyra said, falling into step beside him.
Leon glanced at her, startled. "What?"
"You're improving," she said simply. "Even if you don't see it."
Her words lingered in the air, soft and steady, and for the first time all day, Leon felt a faint flicker of hope.
That night, as the others drifted off to sleep, Leon lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His chest felt tight with the weight of his self-doubt.
What if I fail? What if I'm not good enough?
The questions churned in his mind, refusing to let him rest. But as he closed his eyes, Lyra's words echoed softly in his memory:
"You're improving. Even if you don't see it."
It wasn't much, but it was enough to quiet his thoughts—if only for a little while.