I stare at my hands like they’ve betrayed me. Two weeks into magic lessons, and I still can’t get this fog spell right. The mist that’s supposed to be forming in my palm keeps flickering in and out of existence, like a candle caught in a draft.
“Concentrate, Christopher,” Morgana says, her voice sharp as she paces behind my desk. “Your mana flow is still too erratic.”
“I’m trying,” I mutter, focusing harder on the space between my palms. The mist appears again, a wispy cloud that hovers for maybe three seconds before dissipating completely. “Damn it.”
I glance over at Brooke, who’s sitting at the desk beside mine. Her brow is furrowed in concentration, but unlike me, she’s actually succeeding. A perfect flame dances in her palm, controlled and steady, casting golden light across her determined face.
“Reel it in, Brooke,” Morgana instructs, moving to stand beside her.
Brooke nods, and I watch in awe as the flame shrinks, becoming smaller but no less intense. It’s like watching someone adjust the volume on a speaker.
“Okay, now bring it back,” Morgana says.
The flame grows again, expanding to fill Brooke’s palm. The control she has is incredible. She makes it look so effortless, like she’s been doing this her whole life instead of just two weeks.
“Yes, very good Brooke,” Morgana praises.
I can’t help but smile. There’s no jealousy in me, not even a hint. Watching Brooke excel at this just fills me with pride. She’s always been amazing at everything she puts her mind to, and magic is no exception.
“Don’t worry, Chris,” Brooke says, noticing my gaze. She closes her hand, extinguishing the flame with a soft hiss. “You’ll get it.”
“I know.”
Morgana turns her attention back to me, her expression softening slightly. “Your imagination is excellent, Christopher. You have no trouble visualizing the spells. It’s your mana control that needs work.”
If I had to describe mana control, I’d say it’s like balancing a manual in Tony Hawk, but way harder. You have to keep the perfect amount of pressure, not too much, not too little, while also visualizing exactly what you want to happen.
“Hey, Brooke,” Morgana says, her voice suddenly shifting to something more serious. “Can we speak alone for a few moments?”
Brooke looks up from her perfectly controlled flame, her eyebrows rising slightly. “Sure.”
Before either of them can move, there’s a sharp knock at the door. We all turn toward it, the sudden interruption breaking my concentration completely. The wisp of fog I’d been struggling to maintain vanishes entirely.
Morgana cocks an eyebrow, her purple eyes narrowing as she stares at the door. “Come in.”
The door swings open, and two women step into the classroom. The first is stern-looking, with short black hair and deep-set grey eyes that seem to miss nothing. She’s wearing what I can only describe as religious regalia, flowing robes in deep crimson with gold embroidery.
Beside her stands a woman with platinum blonde hair that falls in a straight sheet down her back. Her eyes are what catch my attention, they’re pure white, no iris, no pupil, just an unsettling milky white that makes me wonder if she’s blind.
“To think it’s taken this long before I was introduced to the heroes,” the stern woman says, her voice carrying the weight of someone used to being obeyed.
“Hello, Cardinal Sanctis,” Morgana says, her tone carefully neutral.
“Royal Mage,” the Cardinal replies, her voice dripping with something that sounds suspiciously like disdain.
Morgana’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “Heroes, this is Cardinal Nessa Sanctis,” she says, gesturing toward the stern woman, “and...” she pauses, her teeth visibly clenching, “...Priestess Luna Everlight.”
I glance at Brooke, who’s watching the exchange with narrowed eyes. There’s clearly some history here, some tension between Morgana and these newcomers that I don’t understand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” I say, trying to break the awkward silence. “I’m Christopher, and this is Brooke.”
Cardinal Sanctis turns her piercing gaze toward me, and I feel like I’m being dissected. “The male hero,” she says, her tone making it sound like a clinical observation rather than a greeting. “How... interesting.”
Luna steps forward, her movements graceful despite her apparent blindness. “The goddesses have truly blessed us with your presence,” she says, her voice soft and melodic. “I’ve been eager to meet you both.”
The Cardinal’s eyes narrow as she surveys the classroom, taking in our half-finished spells and the tension hanging in the air. She pulls a scroll from within her crimson robes and unfurls it with a sharp snap.
“After reviewing the reports from your instructors. I’ve determined it necessary to bring the heroes their priestess.” She gestures toward Luna, who stands with her hands clasped before her. “To help... Christopher with his weight training.”
I blink, not sure I heard her correctly. “Wait, weight training?” I ask, my voice cracking slightly. “I thought we were focusing on magic and combat skills.”
Morgana sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “There’s no issue, Christopher. The Queen and Matilda thought it would be prudent for you to gain some strength to help you out in combat.” She gives me a pointed look. “You’re progressing at a great pace, but Brooke is already at a point where she’s going to need special classes.”
“What?” Brooke’s head snaps up, her blue eyes flashing with indignation. “No, it’s fine as is. We’re training together.”
The Cardinal scoffs, the sound sharp and dismissive in the quiet classroom. “You are a prodigy, Hero Brooke. Would you hold yourself back for a man?”
I feel my face heat up as Brooke gives the Cardinal a look that could freeze hell itself. “I’m the best at helping Christopher,,,“
“Do you wish your lover to die?” The Cardinal cuts her off, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
“Their lovers?” Luna murmurs under her breath, her white eyes widening slightly.
The Cardinal gives her an annoyed glare before turning back to Brooke, her expression hardening. “Your lover is falling behind. He needs special lessons. The priestess can help him with weight training by casting recovery magic on him to maximize muscle growth while he lifts.” She pauses, her gaze shifting to Morgana. “The Queen also decided Morgana will give him extra magic lessons one on one.”
“Over my dead body!” Brooke practically shouts, rising from her desk. “I’ve seen the way Morgana looks at him! And the priestess looks no better!”
Morgana closes her eyes and sighs deeply again, her shoulders slumping slightly. When she opens them again, her purple eyes are filled with something that looks suspiciously like exhaustion. “Everyone outside besides Brooke,” she says, her voice carrying an authority that surprises me.
The Cardinal’s lips curl into a sneer. “Just see to it they’re ready as soon as possible, Royal Mage.” With that, she sweeps out of the room, her crimson robes billowing behind her.
Luna hesitates for a moment. “I’ll be waiting outside,” she whispers before following the Cardinal.
I stand awkwardly, glancing between Brooke and Morgana. The tension in the room is so thick I could cut it with my sword. I clear my throat.
“Morgana, whatever you need to say in front of…“
“I need to talk to your girlfriend right now. Alone…” Morgana cuts me off, her purple eyes suddenly pleading. “Please?”
I blink, taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. This isn’t the confident, intimidating mage I’ve come to know. This is someone who seems genuinely desperate.
Brooke looks at me, her expression softening slightly. “It’s fine. Just stay close.”
“Alright,” I say, still confused but willing to give them space. I move toward the door, casting one last glance at Brooke. She gives me a small nod of reassurance.
As I step into the hallway, the heavy wooden door closes behind. The corridor is dimly lit, with only a few torches casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. Luna stands a few feet away.
“Hey,” she says softly.
“Hi.”
“So I’ll be your party’s priestess,” she says, her milky white eyes somehow finding mine despite their lack of pupils.
I can’t help myself. The question that’s been burning in my mind since I first saw her slips out before I can stop it. “Are you blind?”
Luna chuckles, the sound light and musical in the quiet hallway. “No,” she says, a small smile playing at her lips. “My eyes are this way because all my mana is white.”
“Oh… I didn’t know that could happen.”
“It’s quite alright. It’s a long story.”
Cardinal Nessa:
White Mage Luna: