Elora took a slow breath and focused.
At first, she felt nothing except the classroom around her—the wooden desk beneath her hands, the distant sounds of students shifting in their seats, and a chair creaking somewhere nearby.
“Stop looking for something dramatic.” Elora almost opened her eyes.
How did he keep doing that?
“Many first-years expect mana to announce itself,” Sorn continued.
“It won’t.
You are not searching for a lightning storm.
You are searching for a sensation.” The room remained quiet as everyone continued focusing on the exercise.
Elora took another slow breath.
Searching for a sensation wasn’t exactly the most helpful instruction she’d ever received.
Several minutes passed.
Someone groaned, and another student muttered something under their breath.
Professor Sorn ignored both.
“Patience.” The single word killed every complaint.
Elora focused again, listening to her breathing and the world around her.
Then she felt something.
Just a faint sensation at the edge of her awareness, like cool water brushing against her fingertips.
Elora focused on it.
The feeling didn’t grow stronger, but it gradually became easier to notice.
The more she paid attention, the more she realized it was everywhere—in the air around her, the desks, the students, and even herself.
For a moment, Elora understood what Professor Sorn meant.
Mana wasn’t appearing.
It had always been there.
She was simply noticing it for the first time.
“Interesting.” At that moment, she felt someone watching her.
Curious, her eyes snapped open.
She was right.
Professor Sorn was looking directly at her, and it nearly made her heart stop.
For one ridiculous second, Elora was convinced she’d done something wrong.
Then the professor looked away and continued the lesson as if nothing had happened.
Elora glanced around, but the rest of the class remained focused on the exercise.
Nobody else seemed to have noticed.
“Some of you have already found it, but don’t celebrate yet.
Recognizing mana is the easy part.
Learning to control it is where most people discover their limitations.” There it was again.
That incredible ability to insult an entire room at once.
“Now open your eyes.” A hand suddenly shot into the air.
“Professor, I think I can do it.” Every head turned toward a boy near the middle of the classroom.
The same boy who had spent the entire lesson looking far too confident.
Professor Sorn glanced at him.
He didn’t look particularly interested.
“Do what?” The boy grinned.
“Use magic.” That immediately got everyone’s attention.
A few people looked impressed.
Others looked skeptical.
“Interesting,” he said.
“And what exactly gave you that idea?” The boy lifted his hand.
A faint orange glow appeared above his palm.
The glow flickered uncertainly before gathering into a small flame that made the boy’s grin widen.
“I knew it,” he said proudly.
Whispers spread through the classroom.
“He’s already casting?” “Seriously?” The flame grew larger, then larger again.
The confidence on the boy’s face disappeared with it as panic began to set in.
“Oh.” The fire wobbled.
“Oh no.” Professor Sorn sighed.
The flame suddenly erupted.
A burst of fire shot toward the ceiling, sending people ducking beneath their desks.
One girl screamed as the boy panicked and tried to force the spell back under control.
That only made it worse.
The fire split into three separate streams and shot across the classroom.
A chair caught fire, someone shouted, and chaos erupted throughout the room.
Professor Sorn didn’t even flinch.
He raised one hand, and the flames froze.
Every fire construct in the classroom stopped moving instantly.
For a brief moment, the burning streams hung motionless in the air before collapsing into harmless sparks.
The entire class stared as Professor Sorn slowly lowered his hand.
Meanwhile, the boy looked as though he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
After several seconds of silence, Professor Sorn finally looked at him.
“Congratulations.” The boy looked hopeful.
“You have successfully demonstrated why we are starting with mana control.” The hope died immediately.
A few snorts came from around the classroom, followed by scattered laughter.
Even Elora had to look away before the boy noticed her smiling.
Professor Sorn turned back toward the class.
“Let this serve as a lesson.
Power without control is simply a faster way to embarrass yourself.” Nobody looked eager to experiment anymore.
He pointed to the unfortunate student.
“Your name?” The boy somehow turned even redder.
“K-Kael, Professor.” “Excellent.” That single word somehow sounded threatening.
“Thank you, Kael.
Thanks to your contribution, the entire class has learned something today.” The classroom erupted into laughter.
Kael lowered his head onto his desk.
“Silence.” Nobody laughed anymore.
Professor Sorn didn’t raise his voice, but the effect was immediate.
The classroom fell quiet.
Kael slowly lifted his head from the desk, looking grateful for the rescue.
That feeling lasted approximately three seconds.
“You will remain after class.” A few people immediately looked away.
Nobody wanted to be associated with that level of bad luck.
“Since Mr.
Kael has so generously volunteered himself as today’s example,” Sorn continued, “let us discuss what actually happened.
What was his mistake?” A few hands rose cautiously.
Professor Sorn pointed toward a girl near the front.
“He lost control of the spell?” “Partially correct.” The girl looked relieved.
Another hand went up.
“He tried to cast before learning proper mana control.” “Correct.” The student looked absurdly pleased with himself, but he ignored him.
“Magic is not difficult to activate,” he said.
“In fact, activating it is often the easiest part.” A few surprised looks appeared around the classroom.
“The difficult part is control.” He gestured toward the chair that had nearly caught fire.
“Mana responds to intent.
Poor intent produces poor results.
And poor judgment produces Mr.
Kael.” A few people quickly covered their mouths, while Kael looked personally attacked, which was fair.
Professor Sorn continued as though he hadn’t just used a student as a cautionary tale.
“Most magical accidents are not caused by a lack of power.” He tapped the board once, and a glowing diagram appeared above it.
“They are caused by a lack of control.” The diagram shifted, showing streams of mana flowing through a series of pathways.
“That is why every student in this Academy begins with the same foundation.
Control first.
Everything else later.” Elora paid closer attention.
It made sense.
Yesterday’s evaluation had made affinity seem like the most important thing in the world, yet Professor Sorn was treating it like a secondary concern.
“Your affinity determines what comes naturally to you,” he said.
“It does not determine your limits.” People quickly took notes, while others looked as though they had just received terrible news.
Professor Sorn glanced toward the clock mounted on the wall.
As if on cue, the bell rang, drawing a collective sigh of relief from the classroom.
He looked unimpressed.
“Practice what you learned today.” Nobody looked particularly excited by that suggestion.
“Class dismissed.” The room instantly came back to life as students gathered their notebooks, pushed back chairs, and began discussing everything that had happened during the lesson.
Most of the conversations seemed to involve Kael, who had somehow become today’s most valuable educational resource.
Elora flexed her hand before slipping her notes away and glancing at Lyra, who was stretching like she’d run a mile.
“Well,” Lyra said quietly, “that went wild early.” Elora shrugged.
“Could’ve been worse.” Lyra smirked.
“Only if someone summoned a thunderstorm next.” Ahead, Kael packed up slowly, head down, as whispers followed him like shadows.
Elora zipped her bag, looking once more at the scorch marks near the window—faint smoke curling in a beam of light.
The janitor wouldn’t be pleased.
Elora couldn’t help smiling.
Across the room, Professor Sorn was already organizing his notes as though nothing unusual had happened.
Meanwhile, Kael remained in his seat, looking like a man preparing for his own execution.
Honestly, Elora almost felt bad for him.
Almost.
Her first lesson at Arcane Academy had lasted less than an hour, and she was already beginning to understand why Professor Sorn had a reputation.