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    Their room was crowded today. Sen was manipulating a wind magic essence sphere, hoping for inspiration to strike. But he always felt less imaginative while cooped up inside. Ilm and Samara sat together on one of the beds, studying for a test. Mori was busy making copies of the books that Orttha had given them by hand. It was tedious, but he enjoyed doing it, and the information would be worth having on hand in the future. While he worked, he helped Milim with a spell she was working on. Mori had always been adept at multitasking.

    “Dream Decay!” she tried her spell again. It fizzled out in a puff of purple and black as soon as she released it. Sen caught the hint of dream and nightmare essence within her failed spell.

    Mori frowned. “Hm, the effects are…quite different from one another. What are your intentions for it?”

    “My idea was to create a spell that pulls someone into a pleasant dream, and then slowly warps it into a nightmare. Since skilled magicians can see through one or the other after only a short time, I thought I could prolong how long they’re under the spell’s effects by making them experience one after the other,” Milim explained.

    Sen grinned. That was actually…genius.

    What would you say her magic rank is, Tutor?

    [It’s harder to tell with humans. Based on current data, she is likely either high-squire or low-knight rank.]

    And what about that spell she’s working on?

    [Knight Commander at least.]

    Sen nodded. He’d thought as much. Milim was trying to create a spell well above her level, and she wasn’t failing completely. Which was impressive in and of itself. He stood and approached.

    Milim looked up, and Mori turned to follow her gaze. “Oh. Did we disturb? My apologies.” Mori bowed from his position on the ground.

    “No, it’s fine. I like where you’re going with this, Milim.” He reached into the coat of his blazer and pulled a magic essence sphere from his temporal world as if he’d taken it from his pocket. It was one of the spheres they’d taken from the cultists. A pink and white swirling sphere of dream essence. “Try incorporating this. It should strengthen your connection to the spell and make the concept more solid within you.” He held the sphere out toward her.

    Ilm and Samara turned to watch now that Sen had gotten involved.

    Milim carefully took the sphere. “Are you sure? This can’t be cheap. I’ve never even worked with an essence sphere before, what if I waste it?” she asked.

    “If you make any progress whatsoever, it’s not a waste. Try it. I’ve had the opportunity to use plenty of these in my life. I don’t mind sharing.”

    Milim nodded. She closed her eyes and pulled the sphere towards her torso. Her mana embraced it, and the sphere disappeared as if her body had consumed it. A moment later she held a hand out and focused on her spell.

    Sen scanned her with his magic senses. Her mana was pooled in her hand. “Hold that,” he said.

    She looked up, nearly losing her concentration. “What?”

    “When you throw a punch, you find your balance first.” Sen positioned his feet as if to demonstrate. “You use your whole body to strike, not just your arm. Do the same here. Guide your mana, balancing it throughout all of your being. When you’re ready to release it, force it through yourself and out the focal point. If you start at the focal point, you mana is losing momentum,” he explained.

    Milim stared at him for a moment, but then nodded. She turned her attention back to Mori. Her mana realigned, and he sensed her following his instructions to the best of her ability. It was awkward and disjointed, but that was natural for a first attempt. In a burst of power, her mana exploded through her body, and she released the spell directly at Mori.

    “Dream Decay!” she shouted.

    Mori’s head fell backward, and he slammed into the ground, cushioned only by the thick mane of hair on his head.

    Sen looked over at him. “Mori?” The wards and magic runes on his body shouldn’t allow a spell to affect him like this. Had Mori somehow deactivated them, or had this spell slipped through his defenses?

    Mori giggled. “Stop it! That tickles!” He was talking in his sleep.

    Ilm shot a look at Samara. “Um, this is really going to embarrass him when he wakes up.”

    “Stop it! I said stop!” Mori laughed. His laughter slowly died. “Oh, wait, you’re a tiger? Why is a tiger tickling me? Why are your claws out? Oh. Oh!” Mori’s eyes shot open. “Stop! That hurts!” he shouted. He blinked and looked around slowly. “Did I…did I fall asleep?” He looked up at Milim, her hand still outstretched towards him. “Oh. Your spell works wonders!”

    “Mori…did that slip through your defenses somehow?” Sen asked. If he’d made a mistake with the runes, he’d need to check them soon. That was a dangerous oversight.

    Mori shook his head. “Apologies, I lowered my defenses so Milim could practice. I used to do it when I was teaching Ilm new magic as well.”

    That made Sen feel better. “Make sure you don’t leave our protected space without activating them again.” He turned to Milim. “That technique is effective. It kept Mori under far longer than it normally would. Keep practicing. With the right modifiers, you could control a crowd or take charge of a chaotic situation in an instant. I’d think of ones that expand the number of targets and disrupt mental fortitude.”

    Milim nodded. She clearly took his advice seriously. Probably because she’d seen him in action. He smiled. As reluctant as he was to admit it, he was starting to enjoy the company of their newfound friends.

    A bell chimed. Everyone turned to look at the door. “What was that?” Ilm asked.

    Samara and Milim both got excited. “The class rankings! This will be the first update of the semester!”

    Well, that was interesting. Sen had a class quest to fulfill after all, so checking his progress wouldn’t hurt.

    They filed out of the room, and they weren’t the only ones. A large mass of students crowded the hallway, everyone eager to see the rankings. Oliver, the boy from Milim and Samara’s patrol group, found them and walked alongside them as they went. The crowd ended up in the academy’s lobby. The grand space was wide enough to fit all the students, though some spilled onto the stairway to the second floor or leaned over the balcony above to look at the makeshift platform Dean Withershade stood on.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    On either side of the dean, several members of the faculty stood beside him. Professor Calabari, Professor Ladia, Professor Crosp, and even old Orttha the librarian for some reason.

    When the crowd had more or less settled, Professor Crosp raised a hand. A floating box made of lights that reminded Sen of fireflies hovered in the air over the stage. It was empty now, but there were one hundred little spots, each indicated by a single firefly-like light.

    The dean cleared his throat. “As most of you know, the rankings allow us to reward exceptional students and also to motivate others to catch up to their peers should they fall behind. This year, for the first time, we have expanded the list to allow first-year students. Though this is just to allow them the experience and excitement that comes with participating, so please don’t feel bad if you haven’t quite made the list yet. Remember, you’re competing with students who are one, two, and even three years your senior. That being said, I know you’re eager to see the results, are you not?” the dean asked.

    The students cheered. Sen got the feeling that these rankings were a big deal. Though the prizes were pretty good. So he understood the excitement.

    The dean smiled at their response. “Then I’ll leave you with a reminder that the rankings will continue to update throughout the year. A powerful magic governs the board and cannot be influenced by faculty in any way. That magic reacts to quest completions, duels, and various other activities. Remember this: at Brightsail Academy you are here not only to study but to be studied!”

    Oliver shuddered. “I hate that slogan. It’s like he’s telling us they’re always watching.”

    “They are, especially when you shower, Oli.” Samara winked at him.

    The poor boy turned a bright shade of red.

    The dean turned to Professor Crosp and signaled him to begin.

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