Zeph's footsteps echoed through the towering shelves of Everweave Academy's library. Ancient tomes and corporate manuals competed for space, their spines a timeline of magic's transformation from art to industry. He traced his fingers along the books, feeling the subtle resonance each one carried – another reminder of his useless sensitivity to magic's deeper currents.
The practice wand in his pocket felt like a lead weight. 12.4. The score burned in his mind, along with Raven's dismissive words about accepting limitations. His hand clenched. There had to be something here, some explanation for why magic refused to flow through the standardized channels for him.
He made his way past the approved study areas, where students hunched over Sterling Corp's latest textbooks. *Standardized Spellcasting, 7th Edition* lay open on several tables, its diagrams showing the same rigid channeling patterns that felt so wrong to him. A wall-mounted screen cycled through House-approved study tips: "Remember – safety through standardization!"
A group of senior students occupied one of the premium study pods, their enhanced wands laid out on charging stations that cost more than Zeph's entire semester's tuition. They were practicing advanced channeling forms, their magic moving in precise, corporate-approved patterns that made his teeth ache with their wrongness.
"Did you see the latest Sterling release?" one of them asked, holding up a glossy catalog. "Triple-matrix focusing crystal with automated power regulation. They're saying it can boost efficiency by thirty percent."
"My father already ordered me one," another replied. "Limited pre-release series. They say it practically guarantees placement in the advanced combat track."
Zeph hurried past, his own battered practice wand seeming to grow heavier with each step. The theoretical magic section waited in the library's depths. Here, the corporate shine faded, replaced by dust and silence. Few students ventured this far. Why bother with theory when the standardized techniques were so clearly documented? Yet Zeph kept coming back, drawn by the whispers of something deeper beneath the Houses' carefully constructed system.
The air changed as he moved deeper into the stacks. The ever-present hum of standardized magic dampeners gave way to something older, less constrained. His sensitivity tingled as he passed shelf after shelf of forgotten knowledge. Most of the books here were centuries old, dating back to the early days of House control. Some even claimed to contain pre-Cataclysm information, though those sections were heavily edited with black censorship bars.
He pulled out a promising volume: *Pre-Corporate Magical Theory*. The pages practically hummed with stored knowledge, but the text inside was frustratingly vague. More corporate sanitization, stripping away anything that might contradict the modern paradigm. Still, he could feel power radiating from between the lines, hints of deeper truths hidden beneath approved platitudes about "safe, standardized casting."
A diagram caught his eye – an illustration of magical flow patterns that looked nothing like the rigid channels taught in class. The caption had been mostly redacted, but a few words remained visible: "...natural resonance paths..." and "...harmonic attunement without artificial..."
"Looking for something specific?"
Zeph startled, nearly dropping the book. The library's ancient curator, Ms. Voss, stood watching him with sharp eyes. Her silver hair was tied back severely, but something about her felt... different from the other staff. Less rigid, somehow. The magic around her moved in subtle patterns he'd never seen before.
"Just... research," he said carefully, trying to slow his pounding heart. "Trying to understand why my channeling scores are so low."
Her expression softened slightly. "Ah yes. Another student struggling with the 'approved methods.' Have you considered that the problem might not lie with you?"
Zeph's breath caught. "What do you mean?"
"The modern system is very... efficient," she said, choosing her words carefully. "Very standardized. But magic itself?" She gestured at the shelves around them. "Magic remembers what it used to be. Sometimes it calls to those who can still hear it."
His sensitivity tingled at her words. "You mean there's another way to—"
But Ms. Voss was already turning away. "Be careful in the restricted sections," she said, as if he'd mentioned going there. "Some knowledge is kept hidden for a reason. Though perhaps not the reason they claim."
Before he could respond, she vanished between the shelves with a whisper of robes and a swirl of magic that didn't move quite like standard patterns. Zeph stared after her, then at the section of wall she'd been standing near. Something about it tickled his magical sensitivity. The currents of power flowing through the library didn't move quite right there, as if flowing around an invisible obstacle.
He glanced around. No other students in sight. The practice wand came out of his pocket, but instead of trying to force magic through it, he simply held it loose, letting his sensitivity guide him. The currents shifted, revealing subtle patterns in the wall's seemingly solid surface.
*Channel through the crystal*, Professor Kendrick had said. But what if...?
Zeph relaxed his grip further, allowing magic to flow around the crystal instead of through it. For once, the wand didn't fight him. Power trickled through paths that felt ancient and true, following his natural sensitivity rather than corporate specs. His power level indicator, usually stuck at that miserable 12.4, flickered and displayed strange symbols before going dark entirely.
The wall shimmered.
A warning flashed across his vision: "WARNING: Unauthorized casting technique detected. Please return to approved channeling methods. Continued violation may result in equipment lockout."
Zeph ignored it. The shimmer intensified, and suddenly he was through, standing in a section of library that shouldn't exist. Dust lay thick on shelves that had clearly gone untouched for decades. Ancient books lined the walls, their spines marked with symbols he'd never seen in any approved text.
The air felt different here. Alive. Magic moved in natural currents unrestricted by corporate dampeners and standardization fields. His sensitivity sang with the rightness of it, even as his academic training screamed warnings about unauthorized power fluctuations.
One volume caught his eye. Unlike the others, it seemed to pulse with contained power. As he reached for it, magic swirled around his fingers in patterns that felt more right than anything he'd experienced in his classes. The book's leather binding bore marks of age, but the power within felt as fresh as morning dew.
The cover bore no corporate logos, no safety warnings, no standardization marks. Just a single title in faded script: *The Wandsmith's Echo*.
His hands trembled as he opened it. The pages were blank at first, then words began to form, written in flowing script that somehow reminded him of the way magic was supposed to move:
"So, you can see the true currents. Perhaps there's hope for this age after all."
The words began to glow with inner light, while a voice was heard, reflecting what was written. He swiftly scanned the nearby area, but no one was nearby. It seemed whatever was being written, he would hear as a voice. Magic surged around him, no longer constrained by artificial channels and corporate crystals. For the first time in his life, Zeph felt power responding exactly as it should.
His practice wand's status crystal flared with warnings, then cracked with a sharp pop. In the distance, he heard the library's security wards beginning to chime.
The book's glow intensified, and more words appeared:
"Well, don't just stand there gawking. Unless you'd prefer to explain to those corporate drones how you found this section?"