18 – The Mechanics of Magic

Saffra had been less nervous for the Institute Qualification Exams.

Which didn’t make sense. She wasn’t being evaluated, not in a way that had any consequences. Her magical competence clearly wasn’t the primary factor—if a factor at all—for why Lady Vivi had accepted her apprenticeship proposition.

As for what the actual factors were? She had no idea. That Vivi ‘needed a guide’ didn’t explain enough. She could get one of those anywhere.

A whim? High-level adventurers, high-level anybodies, tended to be eccentric. Would she be tossed aside in a month’s time? A week’s? Tomorrow?

She had resigned herself to that, so she wouldn’t be especially devastated. Even a week’s tutelage from a mage of this caliber made for an unparalleled opportunity.

And if she could extend Lady Vivi’s interest a few days by displaying a modicum of talent, she would do everything she could.

“I don’t know how the Institute educates its students,” Vivi said, “nor how most mages refer to the processes of magic, so bear with me if I use unfamiliar terminology. And feel free to ask for clarification.”

Saffra was interested. A mage without a formal education? Those weren’t the rarest, though in the modern era, definitely less common in the highest echelons of talent. That said, despite Lady Vivi’s ambiguously youthful appearance, she had to be at least a few centuries old. She wasn’t from the modern era. She had likely seen, maybe even partaken in, the fights against the Cataclysms. That was a humbling thought.

“We’ll begin with mana control. Circle it through your channels. As much as you can at once.”

A common exercise, and a starting point Saffra had expected. She was on familiar ground. She supposed the basics were the basics; what else would Vivi have asked for, formal education or not?

Saffra closed her eyes and focused. Her mana core sat high in her stomach, behind her sternum. It wasn’t a physical organ, but rather a purely magical structure. Over time—with training and levels—the amount of mana it could store grew.

But a healthy mana pool was only one small part of what made a mage powerful. To draw a comparison, her pool was like her stamina. But stamina didn’t mean strength. Strength was channeling capacity, and indicated much better the overall power of a mage. After all, being able to cast ten thousand tier-0 spells didn’t matter nearly as much as being able to cast five higher-tier ones.

That vibrating molten liquid filled her magical veins, and she breathed deeply with satisfaction. She had always loved the feeling of mana suffusing her channels. It made her feel powerful, in control of a situation, however much of an illusion she knew it to be. Magic hadn’t saved her any of the times she had needed saving. It would be a long time yet before she was strong enough to protect herself. It might never happen.

The test began. She only stopped flooding herself with mana when she felt ready to burst. There were dozens of exit points throughout the body—the Institute called them gates—and she struggled not to let mana leak through.

She moved that primordial resource around her channels, feeling as if she were setting herself on fire. The experience wasn’t pleasant, but she enjoyed the discomfort in the way a sprinter might enjoy the burn in their legs.

At least until the burn turned painful, then agonizing. Sweat dripped from her brow as seconds and a full minute passed. She struggled to maintain her breathing, refusing to stop until Vivi allowed it. Her mentor had to know how difficult this was. It was a test, and Saffra needed to impress.

“That’s enough,” Vivi said what felt like three years later, and Saffra pulled the mana back into herself and sagged into her seat, gasping.

Vivi gave her a moment to recover.

“That was enough flow to manage a fifth-tier spell,” she said, “but I expect not enough for a sixth-tier.”

Saffra couldn’t help but feel affronted. Of course she couldn’t cast a sixth-tier spell. She wasn’t even level four hundred yet! A fifth-tier spell at her level was already impressive, even by institute standards, and moreover, Vivi’s wording seemed to imply Saffra was closing in on the sixth tier. That was extremely impressive!

Saffra’s shoulders slumped. She supposed this was the downside of being taught by a prodigy. The demon in front of her had probably been casting fifth-tier spells before she could walk. Of course Saffra’s efforts hadn’t impressed, even if she’d tried her hardest.

“But well done,” Vivi added after a moment’s pause.

Saffra snorted. She was getting better at reading the woman. Vivi had clearly tacked that on because she had deflated. The mismatch between her outward appearance—those bored red eyes that were borderline contemptuous—and how her words and actions were always gentle was more than a little amusing.

Honestly, it was the reason Saffra had trusted her so quickly. She could see past a person’s surface layers. She was a good judge of character.

Except for a few very important instances.

Even having her thoughts brush against the most recent example made her flinch. Yes, there was definitely one major exception, and it was why she didn’t attend the Institute anymore.

Her eyes drifted over to Lord Barnaby Caldimore, taking brief note of the blurring landscape beyond the windows. She’d been so absorbed in the lesson that she hadn’t noticed the Convoy leave the station.

Caldimore. What were the odds? She’d been irrationally worried he would recognize her, but obviously he hadn’t. In the grand scheme of things, her expulsion hadn’t been important to anybody. Not even the family most involved with it.

She wondered what she was up to, these days. Did she even care what she’d done? Had the whole thing been a joke?

She shoved those thoughts away. She was done thinking about Isabella.

“Channeling at high fifth-tier when I haven’t even reached the benchmark level for fourth-tier is impressive, by the way,” Saffra declared, sticking her chin up. “Especially when I have half the education most casters do.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

The words were for her own benefit, and she felt embarrassed the moment they came out of her mouth. But thinking about Isabella had sent her spiraling again, and she always felt better when she blustered.

That she cared so much after eight months infuriated her. Isabella certainly didn’t care. She’d probably howled with laughter for days afterward, then promptly forgotten about her.

“I expect it is,” Vivi said in her usual calm voice, though those red eyes were watching her carefully. Some of what Saffra had been feeling had probably leaked through.

“What now?” Saffra asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Vivi’s attention lingered a little longer before she replied, “Let’s see your external mana manipulation.”

She seized the distraction.