Logan trudged into the dining hall, his muscles aching from the relentless training under Ulrik. Every step felt like a monumental effort, but he pressed on, eager to sit down and regroup before what he knew would be another grueling lesson with Vidal. As he scanned the room, his eyes landed on Emery, sitting at their usual spot. Her head was bowed, her hands fidgeting with a piece of bread.
"Hey," Logan said as he slid into the seat beside her. "You okay?"
Emery looked up slowly, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Yeah… just a long day," she muttered, offering a weak smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"What happened?" Logan asked, concern etched across his face.
"Vidal," she replied simply, her voice flat.
Logan chuckled softly, though he didn't miss the genuine weariness in her tone. "I've got him next. Wish me luck."
Emery didn't laugh, just gave him a half-hearted nod before returning to her bread. Logan frowned but let it drop for now. She looked like she needed rest more than a conversation.
---
The lieutenants filed in, their commanding presences filling the hall. Ulrik led the way, his imposing figure exuding authority as he took his place at the head of the table. Food was soon brought out, and Logan noted with surprise that his plate held more than the usual fare.
Instead of the simple stew he'd grown accustomed to, tonight's meal included a modest portion of meat alongside vegetables. It wasn't nearly as grand as the massive, richly marbled steaks piled high on the plates of Ulrik and his warriors, but it was an improvement.
"Special occasion?" Logan asked, nodding toward his plate.
Ulrik, already tearing into his meal, chuckled. "You've earned it, boy. Worked hard today, didn't you?"
Logan glanced at the lieutenants' plates and raised an eyebrow. "So… why don't I get that?"
Yrsa smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Because you'd die. That's Qi-infused meat. It's for higher-stage warriors. You're not ready."
Freya added gently, "Your body isn't equipped to handle it yet, Logan. When you advance beyond the fledgling stage, you'll be able to process it without… complications."
Logan nodded, though he couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. "Guess I'll stick to the basics for now."
---
After dinner, Logan followed Vidal into a smaller room off the main hall. The space was cluttered with shelves of books, scrolls, and strange trinkets. A large chalkboard stood at the center, its surface already covered in intricate diagrams.
"Tonight," Vidal began, his voice brimming with enthusiasm, "we take our first real steps into the art of magic."
Logan straightened, his fatigue momentarily forgotten.
"Magic," Vidal explained, pacing the room, "is a delicate balance of precision and power. At its core are two fundamental components: arrays and runes. Arrays provide the structure, dictating the flow and direction of mana. Runes are the conduits, drawing mana from within you and the world around you."
He turned to the chalkboard, where he began sketching a circular array with a single rune in its center. The design was simple but precise, its lines sharp and purposeful.
"This," Vidal said, gesturing to the board, "is the Flame Spell. It's the most basic spell for Fire Mana. The array focuses the magic, and the rune channels the energy to create the desired effect."
Logan leaned forward, studying the array intently.
"Your first task," Vidal continued, "is to replicate this design. Over and over, until you can draw it perfectly without hesitation."
He placed a towering stack of papers on the desk in front of Logan.
"All of these?" Logan asked, incredulous.
"All of these," Vidal confirmed with a grin.
Logan sighed but picked up a pencil and began copying the array. His strokes were clumsy at first, the lines uneven and imprecise. But as he worked, his movements grew steadier, more confident.
---
Hours passed, and the stack of papers barely seemed to diminish. Vidal occasionally altered the array on the chalkboard, adding more complex runes or tweaking the design. He explained each change in quick, dense lectures, his excitement palpable.
Finally, Vidal set down his chalk and said, "Enough drawing for tonight. Now, we turn to meditation."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Meditation?"
"Yes," Vidal replied, his tone serious. "As a fledgling Magi, your primary goal is to form your Mana Core—what we call the Sea of Consciousness. To do this, you must meditate daily. Clear your mind and focus on sensing the mana around you. It's difficult at first, but with time, you'll begin to perceive it. That is when your Mana Core will form."
Logan frowned. "How long does that usually take?"
"Two to three years," Vidal said. "But it varies. Tonight, we'll start. Sit down, close your eyes, and focus on your breathing."
Logan did as instructed, settling onto the floor. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind, but his thoughts buzzed incessantly. He focused on his breathing, slow and steady, but felt nothing. No energy, no presence, just the silence of his own mind.
After what felt like an eternity, Vidal spoke. "It will come with time. For now, don't force it. Just keep practicing."
---
Logan stumbled back to his room, his body screaming for rest. Emery was already there, sitting on the edge of his bed.
"You look terrible," she said, though there was a hint of humor in her tone.
Logan huffed a laugh and collapsed beside her. "I feel terrible. What about you? You seemed out of it earlier."
Emery sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Vidal had me doing the same thing as you—drawing arrays, trying to meditate. But I also spent a lot of time with Freya. She's been teaching me about the human body, illnesses, injuries, things that don't even need magic to fix. She says I need to know the basics before I can be a proper healer."
Logan nodded. "That sounds… intense."
"It is," Emery admitted. "But it feels good. Like I'm finally contributing."
Logan smiled. "You're not just contributing—you're thriving."
Emery gave him a genuine smile this time. "Thanks, Logan."
She stood and made her way to her room, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts. As he lay back, exhaustion finally pulling him under, one thought lingered: no matter how hard things became, they were growing stronger. And that was all that mattered.