Roan stretched like they were on vacation. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Fresh air. No Voxanna. No rules. No responsibilities.”
Eiden turned his head slowly. “Roan.”
“Yeah?”
“If you say ‘vacation’ one more time,” Eiden said.
Roan lifted both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. But why did you drag me out here, then?”
“I didn’t drag you anywhere. You followed me,” Eiden said. “I didn’t even know if you’d show up.”
Roan blinked. “Then why are we out here?”
Eiden nodded toward the quarry. “Because I’m an AoE mage,” he said. “I need a wide, empty place to try new stuff without setting a dormitory on fire and getting executed.”
Roan stared at the quarry again. “So this is… a safe place to do dangerous things.”
“Exactly,” Eiden said. “A big, empty ‘oops’ zone.”
Eiden looked back at the quarry. Big pits. Old stone ramps. Broken roads. Loose rocks everywhere.
“This could work.”
They started walking. Old work roads curved and forked; ramps ended in nothing. Some pits were shallow. Others looked like they dropped straight to the center of the world.
They found a narrow stone cut between two ridges. The walls were tall enough to block the wind. The air felt colder inside. Footsteps echoed.
Eiden stopped in the middle and looked down the passage. The first thing his brain did was build a picture: Stand here. Throw there. If anything tries to run, it can only run one way. He shoved the rest of the thought down before it reached his face.
“This,” Eiden said, keeping his voice normal, “is a great test lane.”
Roan looked around. “Test lane?”
“Yeah,” Eiden said. “Narrow. Straight. If I mess up, the blast goes forward…”
He threw a fire bolt, tighter and smaller, the compressed version he’d been learning.
Roan clapped once. “Nice.”
They climbed back out and kept mapping. Eiden picked three main zones. Zone one: the narrow cut. Great funnel, great control. Zone two: a wide pit with two ramps. Good sight lines, enough room to kite, but risky if he got trapped. Zone three: a broken platform near the cliff edge where the road split. High ground. And a clean view of the sky.
Eiden kept returning to zone three. He stood there and stared upward. To Roan, it probably looked like Eiden was being dramatic on purpose. In reality, Eiden was trying to pick a spot where he could see everything, move fast, and control where the fight happened.
Roan sat on a flat stone nearby and kicked a pebble off the edge. “So,” Roan said, casual voice, “what are we actually waiting for?”
“I’m picking where to start,” Eiden said, casual.
Roan nodded.
Eiden waited until Roan wandered a few steps away to throw another pebble into the pit. Eiden lowered his voice, fast and quiet.
“How will it start?” he whispered to the air.
No response.
Eiden clenched his jaw. “How will it start,” he tried again, “and please don’t say ‘unknown.’”
Still nothing.
He hated himself for it, but he said it anyway.
“…Please?”
The panel finally appeared.
[Spatial rupture. An opening will form in the sky. Swarm entities will fall through it.]
Eiden went still.
Roan came back over and squinted at Eiden. “You got something, didn’t you?”
“If I’m testing bigger stuff, I want a place where I can aim down and keep the blast contained. That pit’s perfect.”
Roan leaned over the edge for a second, silent, then looked back at Eiden like a person who had finally stopped pretending.
“What are you fighting out here?” Roan asked.
Eiden blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Roan said. “You’re not just sightseeing. You’re picking positions. Choke points. Wide angles. Escape routes. You’re building a plan in your head.” He nodded toward the narrow cut they’d walked through earlier. “Tunnel-like spots where a crowd has to funnel.” Then he nodded toward the big pit. “And open ground where an AoE mage can hit from multiple angles.”
Eiden stared at him. “Where did you get that?”
Roan shrugged. “My father is a battle mage.”
That answer landed heavier than Eiden expected.
Roan kept talking, like he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. “When I was younger, he dragged me to real battlefields. The ugly parts. He said if I wanted to learn magic that keeps you alive, I had to learn how people actually die.”
Eiden didn’t say anything.
Roan scratched the back of his neck. “He taught me tactics. How to read terrain. How to spot when someone is preparing for a fight. And right now you’re doing the same thing he used to do when he was trying to protect a squad that couldn’t handle a straight fight.”
Roan’s eyes narrowed. “So I’ll ask again. What are you fighting out here?”
Eiden swallowed. He had planned to keep it simple. Keep Roan thinking this was just training.
But Roan wasn’t stupid. Not really.
Eiden exhaled, then nodded once. “You’re smarter than you act,” Eiden said.
Roan smiled. “I know. It’s my best skill.”
Eiden almost laughed.
He looked back at the empty pit. Then at the sky.
“There’s something coming,” Eiden said.
Roan’s face didn’t change, but his posture did. He went still. “What kind of something?”
“Something called The Swa—”
And the world… paused.
The wind stopped.
Roan’s hair stopped moving.
Even the dust in the air stopped.
Eiden’s breath caught.
Then the voice in his head spoke.
[Do not speak that name.]
[Even mentioning it is dangerous.]
[Do not describe it directly. Be vague. Always.]
[If you draw attention too early, you may accelerate the end of this world.]
Eiden’s throat went dry.
Time released him.
The wind moved again.
Roan blinked like nothing had happened.
Eiden forced his voice to work.
“Something bad.” Eiden said carefully. “Something that spreads. Something that doesn’t stop.” He pointed at the quarry. “I need a place where, when it shows up near me, I can keep it away from everyone else.”
Roan stared at him for a long moment.
Then Roan nodded once, slow. “Okay,” Roan said. “That’s… enough for now.”
Near sunset, Roan sat up and rolled his shoulders. “I can blink again.” Roan said.
Eiden stood up immediately. “Thank the universe.”
Roan frowned. “Wow. No gratitude for my recovery process?”
Eiden grabbed Roan by the sleeve. “Yes, yes.” Eiden said. “Now take us back.”
Roan laughed, stood, and traced silver lines in the air. A circular pattern formed. The world folded.
Then the quarry wind vanished. Warm academy air hit his face.
They were back.
Eiden staggered once and caught himself.
“Thank you for choosing Roan Transportation Services—where your wants are our second option.”
Voxanna: “No. Absolutely not.”
Pax: “But he’s emotionally independent!”
Eiden opened the door.
Brisket, the mini dragon, was on Pax’s bed, chewing the corner of a textbook. Pax was trying to gently pull the book away. Voxanna was standing with arms crossed.
Roan walked in like nothing was wrong. “Hello, beloved roommates. Your spatial hero returns.”
Voxanna’s eyes snapped to him. “Where were you?”
Roan pointed at Eiden. “Field trip. Fire guy needed air.”
Eiden pointed at Roan. “He kidnapped me.”
Eiden moved past them and grabbed his pack.
Pax looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”
Eiden nodded once. “Yeah. I’m going to train.”
The next day was boring.
Mana Theory was held in a lecture hall with high arches and floating chalk.
Eiden sat through it. He took notes. But he didn’t like any second of it.
Roan sat beside him and tried to stay awake by drawing tiny portals in the margins of his notes. Voxanna sat in another corner of the classroom with the friends she’d made. Pax sat behind them, whispering “no biting” to Brisket every five minutes. Brisket bit something anyway.
At one point, the professor started explaining stabilization patterns for multi-step conversion. Eiden’s brain went numb.
He leaned toward Roan. “I hate when learning is boring.”
Roan blinked. “Isn’t that the entire academy experience?”
“Shouldn’t have to be.”
When the lecture ended, everyone stood up like they’d been released from prison.
Eiden didn’t wait. He went straight to the West Practice Wing. Practice Room B-8.
“Alright,” he muttered. “Ten seconds. We can beat ten seconds.”
He placed his badge on the panel. The barrier door opened. Inside, the targets waited: stone targets, measurement lines, a mana gauge on the wall.
Eiden stood in the center and raised both hands. He did what Neris had explained two days ago. Pull heat inward. Contain spread. Build a stable core.
The air warmed. The sphere formed between his hands. He held it steady.
Ten seconds, he told himself. It would be a good starting line.
He threw the Big Fire Bolt at the closest target.
It hit. The stone flashed. Numbers appeared.
Impact: 40
Accuracy: 82%
Cast Time: 10.0 seconds
Eiden stared at the results. Then he exhaled.
“What?” he said softly. “Ten seconds.”
The barrier door clicked.
Eiden turned, expecting no one. This was supposed to be solo time.
Instead, Neris stood in the doorway.
Eiden stared. “Neris?”
Neris stepped inside and stayed near the entrance, like the room might explode if he got too close. “Yeah,” he said. “I, uh… I was looking for you.”
Eiden frowned. “Why?”
Neris swallowed. “Because I’ve been thinking about what you asked me.”
Eiden blinked. Then his brain caught up. “The ‘saving the world’ question.”
Neris nodded quickly. “Yeah. That. I don’t… I don’t actually know what you meant by it,” Neris admitted. “I don’t know what ‘saving the world’ is supposed to be. I don’t know if you meant it literally or if you were just being dramatic.”
Eiden’s mouth twitched. “I’m never dramatic.”
Neris stared at him.
Eiden sighed. “Okay, I’m sometimes dramatic.”
Neris exhaled like he was relieved. “I just… I could tell you weren’t joking,” Neris said. “And I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like the idea of you doing this alone. So, if you need help, I want to help.”
Eiden held that for a second. Then he nodded once. “Alright,” Eiden said. “If you’re here, then work.”
Neris blinked. “Work?”
Eiden pointed at the targets. “Yeah, come train with me. Work your hands, not your mouth.”
They left the practice wing at sunset. Eiden’s hands still hurt, but it was the normal kind of hurt.
“Great session. See you tomorrow, Neris.” Eiden said, waving goodbye.
When Neris left, Eiden sighed.
"Character Panel"
General Information
Attributes
Abilities
Inventory
Quests
Eiden clicked on the "Abilities" tab.
Fire Bolt [Level 3] - A basic fire spell.
Big Fire Bolt [Level 1] - Large basic fire spell.
??? [Locked]
??? [Locked]
??? [Locked]
Eiden selected the “Big Fire Bolt”.
Big Fire Bolt
Level: 1
Damage: 40
Mana Cost: 10
Cooldown: 8 seconds
Range: 20 meters
Radius: 3 square meters
“Still level 1, huh,” Eiden said, stroking his chin. “Hey, voice in my head— is there any other way I can upgrade my skills? Or make them stronger faster?”
[Skill Mastery Unlocked]
Eiden blinked. “That sounds like you’ve been hiding it from me.”
[You were not qualified to see it. Now you are.]
Eiden exhaled through his nose. “Okay. What is mastery, and why should I care?”
[Because you keep treating spells like rocks. Throw it hard. Hope it works.]
[Level is raw output. It increases a skill’s base performance and allows it to reach its full potential.]
[Mastery is different. Mastery is how much of that potential you can actually control without wasting mana, losing shape, or blowing yourself up.]
Eiden dragged a hand down his face. “Fine. What happens when a skill is mastered?”
[A skill advances through three stages in an evolution cycle: Stage One, Stage Two, Stage Three.]
[Completing Stage Three triggers an evolution.]
[Evolution improves efficiency and stability and unlocks advanced variations.]
Eiden sat up straighter. “So how do I unlock evolution?”
[First: the skill must reach Level Five.]
[Level Five opens the evolution pathway. Until then, you can train mastery, but you cannot force an evolution.]
Eiden pointed at the air. “And then?”
[Then you must complete that skill’s mastery trials. Each skill has its own.]
[Mastery grows when you complete trials properly.]
Eiden’s eyes narrowed. “And what do I use to evolve it? Please don’t say ‘faith’ or ‘friendship.’”
[A Skill Core. A core is the material that reshapes a skill into the next stage.]
[It is made from essence—compressed remnants left behind by defeated creatures. You have already encountered a weak version: Monster Essence (lesser).]
[That is raw essence. It must be refined before it can be condensed into a stable core. Refinement requires an Arcane Node or an equivalent method. Core quality depends on the quality of the essence and the refinement process.]
Eiden sat there for a second, jaw clenched, then reached back into the panel.
He opened Abilities again, selected Big Fire Bolt, and clicked Mastery.
[Big Fire Bolt — Mastery Trials]
[Stability: Unstable.] Your hands are getting the job done, but the spell leaks.
[Speed: Failing.] Faster casts collapse before they finish.
[Repeatability: Inconsistent.] You can’t reproduce a clean result on demand.
[Shaping: Not started.] Your blast doesn’t stay inside a boundary.
Eiden’s stomach tightened. He closed the panel, because if he didn’t, he was going to start arguing with the sound in his head.
The next day arrived with all the warmth and mercy of a schedule.
Eiden woke up to the badge chiming directly into his bones. He got dressed, grabbed his notes, and followed the stream of students like the academy itself was herding them.
Today’s first class was in a hall he hadn’t seen yet.
It was older than the others.
The walls were covered in murals: mages with staffs raised high, kings kneeling beside robed figures, and battles painted in vivid colors.
Over the doorway, a plaque read: MAGIC HISTORY.
Roan walked beside him, yawning. Pax followed with Brisket hidden under a scarf. Voxanna, on the other hand, walked ahead of everyone, looking like she was really into this class.
Eiden slipped into a seat near the middle. Roan dropped into the chair next to him.
Voxanna sat two rows ahead.
An old man stepped onto the platform.
He tapped the air with two fingers.
[Professor Halvorn Kest] appeared on the board behind him.
The man opened a book that looked older than the academy, then he looked up. “Magic doesn’t belong to everyone equally,” he said. “Anyone can learn. Not everyone learns at the same speed.”
The murals shifted: a row of flames. Some sputtered. A few held shape like they had bones.
“Most mages crawl there through training,” Kest said. “Discipline. Technique. Pain. Bloodline families don’t crawl. They start closer to the finish line.”
The whispers started. Kest’s stare ended them.
“Certain families carry a hereditary mana crest—a pattern in the blood that makes mana behave more efficiently. They learn faster, and they’re stronger.”
He turned a page. “That advantage became influence. House names became something people learned to treat carefully. Which is why names matter.”
Kest flicked his hand and the board behind him changed.
“I’ll give you the only names most of you need to recognize quickly,” he said.
Eiden’s pen started moving automatically.
[House Meridian] — Node builders; they essentially built the network.
[House Paleiron] — Law and access rules.
[House Vellumcrest] — Grimoires; they turned "stuff we do" into "stuff you can learn."
[House Nullwake] — Unusual mana research.
Kest tapped the board and the list vanished.
“We’re done for today,” he said.
Chairs scraped. Students stood like they’d been released.
“In the next lesson, we’ll cover the second-generation Houses—the families that came after the first. In other words, these are the later Houses that inherited, expanded, or redirected what the original Houses built. You take a look at the board if you want to come prepared.”
Eiden capped his pen. He barely remembered the lecture, but the notes sat on the page, waiting for later.
Out of curiosity, he looked at the board.
[House Veyne]
[House Ashford]
[House Marrowell]
[House Thorncrown]
[House Flareheart]
Flareheart.
For a second, his brain didn’t connect it to anything.
Then it did.
That’s my last name.