The following day, I made my way to Alchemy, eager to see what else I could learn. Like in Forging, workstations filled most of the classroom, piled high with tools. Each station had two stools on one side, facing towards the front of the room, where another workbench sat, most likely for the instructor.

I found a station near the back and sat, grabbing my notebook and reading notes on alchemy while trying to pull mana into my core. This trick, learning to gather mana unconsciously, was far beyond my current skill set, but it served double duty. If I could get it down, I could increase my gathering rate by several times. And along the way, it helped develop my control, even if it gave me a headache as a consequence.

A cough broke my focus, and I looked up to see a young man around my age standing a few feet away.

He was short, though still an inch or two taller than me, not difficult, all things considered. However, you would not know it from his demeanor. The moment I turned towards him, he seemed to shrink noticeably, eyes staring at the ground as his face turned shades of red.

Several seconds passed, and I finally grew impatient, asking, "Can I help you?"

He nodded a bit too quickly, the glasses sitting on his nose bouncing as he asked, "Y-you're Vayne, right? My c-cousin helped you Awaken, and said to look for you when I got here. He said you seemed like a good person to be-befriend."

His words reminded me of the conversation a month earlier, though I had to think back to recall his name. He must have sensed my hesitation and continued, "M-my name is Simon Helton. A pleasure, sir."

The stammering was already growing annoying, but I put a smile on my face and responded, "The pleasure is mine. Please, sit," and gestured to the other seat.

Simon fumbled a bit with the stool, adjusting its height as he sat down and dug into his bag. His eyes darted around the room, and I was starting to understand why his cousin asked me to befriend the young man. True, he likely wanted to build connections with the Esttons, but this apprentice seemed like he could use socializing. Simon might damn well be afraid of his shadow if his behavior was any indication.

The young man turned to me after he finished with his supplies, leaning in closer and whispering, "Jonathan told me you were a sponsored apprentice for Duke Esttons. Is-is that true?"

I raised an eyebrow and chuckled a bit before nodding. "Yes, it is. I grew up in the Estton household, training to become the family advisor after graduation in magical affairs."

His eyes widened, and he smiled, whisper-shouting, "Really?!" before catching himself and returning to a more normal tone, "That must have been amazing. I can't imagine how their estate must look. Are you friends with the heirs? I've heard that the Duke is friends with King Lyos, so you must've gone to annual balls at the royal palace. Did you meet the king himself? I've seen him in pictures, and my father has met him, but I could never go."

Every sentence came a bit faster and louder as his awkwardness wore off. It was amusing but also a bit too much at once, and I held up one hand with a smile, saying, "I can only answer one thing at a time. To give as succinct an answer as possible, I am cordial with my lord's children, but not friends, and I have never attended any balls, royal or otherwise. I am, for all intents and purposes, a commoner, so I do not warrant such privileges."

Funny enough, the one question I avoided was also the one that required lying, or at least a half-truth. In a round-about way, I had met King Lyos in my visions, which was almost funny. Socially, I was the lowest of the low in the Academy, but in that future, I was practically on a first-name basis with the most socially powerful man in Ferris.

Simon seemed disappointed, his brow furrowing as he opened his mouth, likely preparing another tirade of questions. However, before he could speak, the master entered the room, signaling for silence.

"Hello. My name is Master Gladstone, the alchemy instructor. I'm not the best at introductions, so let's get into it. Alchemy involves creating substances from natural materials, usually potions. Some might call it boring or possibly even useless, conveniently ignoring that Ferris' greatest secret lies with us. Some of you might help create the potions to Awaken the next generation. Well, in a few years, I guess."

His voice was flat and monotone, bags under his eyes and a hunch to his back as he stood behind his workbench. Without any preamble, he reached into his robes and pulled out a vial of a thick red liquid.

"This is a low-grade healing potion, one strong enough to repair minor injuries in a few hours. It's about as easy as it gets, so you shouldn't have much trouble. We'll go over the steps together, and then you'll have the rest of class to try and recreate the process."

Gladstone did not wait for any replies, jumping right into the steps required. Healing potions, or at least this one, seemed relatively simple, comprised of a handful of herbal ingredients put through several crushing processes, boiling and purifying in water. The end result was a thick fluid closer to honey than water, though still drinkable.

"I want two from each station, one from each apprentice. Any extra potions are yours to keep, so do your best. If you get lost and need assistance, ask." Gladstone finished before leaning against the table in front of him.

Thanks to my preparations, I knew why we did most of the basic processes. I had memorized the tools and knew how to work them in theory. In practice, it was a far more challenging task. My movements faltered as I checked and rechecked steps, and my hands fumbled with the unfamiliar tools. Worse than either of those was my impatience.

Despite Girem's best efforts and Sig's warnings, I still retained an impatient streak that permeated my work. I did not want to wait the long, plodding minutes as water boiled off or the liquid filtered. Combat training was different, as I could see and feel the palpable changes, but this? It was not just slow but tedious, and my distaste was reflected in my lackluster work.

What only made me look worse was Simon, who looked practically like a different person. Gone was the awkward, shy young apprentice as he moved with incredible efficiency and grace. There was no hesitation as he worked, and more than once, I saw him grab a tool without even looking, replacing it with practiced ease.

Most impressively, I noticed that he worked out of order, skipping some steps entirely. Rather than watch a mixture boil, Simon would leave them to sit on a flame as he prepared the next step or cleaned used tools. Before one potion was finished, he was already starting the next, and there was none of the wasted time I experienced.

I briefly considered scrapping my attempt and trying to copy him before deciding against it. In theory, I might be able to mimic his method and maybe even achieve faster results, but that was also the worst type of cheating. Shortcuts were all well and good, but without knowing the fundamental reasons for his actions, I was worse off in the long run; The why was more important than the how at least in my opinion.

By the end of class, five potions sat on our bench, stored inside corked glass vials. Four were a deep crimson, only a hair lighter than Gladstone's, while the fifth was a bright pink shade.

The master walked from station to station, checking our work and offering corrections and advice. When he got to us, he raised an eyebrow as a tiny smile appeared on his face. He reached out with surprising speed, grabbing one of Simon's and holding it up the light, tilting it one way and the other.

"Well done, apprentice. If you look very closely, you can see flecks of blackroot, suggesting that you rushed filtration or did not crush it as finely as possible. The end result leaves the solution a touch less concentrated than mine, but regardless this is a very skillful first attempt. I expect you to maintain this level of performance, young man."

Simon beamed, and Gladstone placed the vial into his robes before turning to me, eyebrows dropping as he frowned. When he grabbed my potion, it was with far less speed and interest.

"You, on the other hand, are more of what I would expect from a novice. Such a light color indicates a dilute product, either from losing too much reagent when transferring or moving too quickly and leaving it dilute. I can spot chunks of reagents even without looking closely, and it is too thin of a mixture. When made correctly, a healing potion should be closer to syrup, while this is as viscous as water."

He paused, frowning as he stared at the glass before continuing, "Normally, I would have you come back on your own time and try again until you could produce an acceptable product, but it is the first day, and I feel lenient. You are to memorize the steps for the next class and recite them to me. And be warned, I will not accept such results in the future."

"Yes, master," I said, bowing my head as Gladstone slipped my vial into his pockets. The rest disappeared into Simon's bag along with his books as we stood, walking from the room together.

"Don't worry about it," Simon said with a sympathetic smile, "You're just a novice, and alchemy can take a few tries to get down. Sort of like cooking. Do you cook? You probably don't, actually. Not that that's a bad thing!"

Even if he was not a skilled alchemist, I might want to become friends with Simon. He certainly made me feel better about my lackluster people skills. I chuckled, replying, "No, I cannot cook or perform alchemy for that matter. You, on the other hand, looked far too skilled for a first-year apprentice. Experienced, I assume?"

Simon blushed, eyes turning towards the ground, and he replied, "Yes. My family specializes in trade goods and crafts. Not to sound arrogant, but we produce some of the best wares in Ferris. Jonathan, my cousin, was always great at enchanting, but I gravitated towards alchemy."

"I might ask for your help reviewing my skills, then. I think I am ill-suited for the field, though I am a bit curious. What drew you to it?"

He did not respond for a few seconds, staring at the ground before shrugging, "I-I'm not sure. It might sound a little silly, but...well, when I make a potion right, I always got this rush of satisfaction. I'm not explaining it well..."

I thought back to how I felt when I first controlled my mana or molded it into a spell and smiled, responding, "No, I think I understand what you mean perfectly. And I suspect I owe you a favor for today. Master Gladstone may have let my pitiful attempt fail, but only because you performed so well he was in a good mood. Two failures might have pushed his generosity too far. So, thank you, Simon."

"N-not a problem," he replied, his damned stammer coming back.

Funny enough, we shared the following two classes, Enchanting and Magic Beasts. The former was not a surprise, fitting right into Simon's statements about his family. Master Hamilton, our teacher, spent the entire time going over how one might bind an enchantment to an object and the specifics involved.

I already knew that enchanting used runes, based heavily on Old Ferren, as focusing tools, just like incantations. I also knew that intent remained the driving force, which allowed for unusual combinations, sometimes outside of even what the creator intended.

Unfortunately, though I already had a few long-reaching applications in mind, my immediate future as an enchanter looked painfully dull and repetitive. Master Hamilton warned us that the first few weeks were entirely memorization and carving practice on different mediums, learning to write the symbols legibly and recognize them at a glance.

In a fun reversal to Alchemy, here I actually had an advantage over Simon. I could read and write Old Ferren almost perfectly, and though the symbols were not the same, they remained close enough to translate without much trouble. Once we moved from paper to wood, that advantage would likely vanish, but I enjoyed the brief feeling of satisfaction for now.

In Magic Beasts, I found a surprise waiting for me in the front row. I spotted Leon Estton, who sat already surrounded by a few other apprentices who crowded around him like moths to a flame. The moment he saw me, Leon practically jumped out of his chair, extricating himself with many apologies, and swaggered over with his usual smile.

"Vayne! Nice to see you again. And a friend, too? Now that's a surprise. I'll have to tell Sophia about this one." Leon said with a chuckle before turning to Simon and extending a hand, "Leon Estton, son of Duke Estton."

Simon started stammering and grabbed Leon's hand. "N-n-nice to meet me, sir. You, I mean! My name is Simon. Simon Helton that is."

Leon paused, blinking a few times before sighing and saying, "Founders above, there are two of you now. As I have said to Vayne more times than I care to count, call me Leon. Technically, as long as we are behind these walls, we are all apprentices and therefore equal in rank."

I did not bother pointing out that technicality mattered little compared with societal norms, saying, "Forgiveness, sir, but I thought I was in this class so that you would not need to bother with these sorts of duties. They are beneath you, after all."

Briefly, I realized this might seem like an insult to both Simon and Leon, but if either noticed, they did not say as much."

"My father and Girem feel similar, but I disagree. It's always good to know about our more bestial neighbors, and more than that, the subject has always been fascinating to me. What caused normal animals to transform into such powerful creatures? Not to worry, though. Sophia and I will still require your expertise on plenty of other things, I'm sure. You'll not be out of a job with us." Leon said, giving me a wink and laugh.

We shared our interest in that question, though I doubted that fascination sprang from the same source. Leon was an avid hunter and more than once assisted in killing dangerous beasts that wandered near the lands, though never anything magical enhanced. Even when not hunting, he loved to ride on the Estton lands and observe nature if the rumors spoke true.

I, meanwhile, would rather sit inside if possible and, after my first hunt, doubted I would ever gain a taste for it. Necessary, maybe but fun? Not so much.

But if I could decipher the mysteries of their bodies and find a way to gain some of these beast's abilities for myself? Now that was something worth pursuing. Like nearly all of my ideas, it was nothing but half-cocked dreams that waited far off in the distance, but that seemed my curse.

Leon glanced over and noticed a robed woman making her way to the front of the room and smiled at us before returning to his seat. Simon and I sat near the back, waiting for the lesson to begin.

"My name is Master Kendell, and I will be your instructor on magic beasts. While we humans like to believe we are the greatest race to exist, I hope to teach you the truth of things. Compared to most other species, we are slow, weak, and clumsy, undeserving of our place at the top of the food chain."

Turning towards us, she waved a hand, and an image of a lizard-creature appeared floating above us. It was around as large as a man, with four legs, massive wings, and a mouth lined with hundreds of teeth. Even the youngest child would recognize what it represented, though much smaller than the real thing.

"What better place to illustrate my point than the most vaunted creature in Ferris, the dragon. Specifically, an adult common dragon of around two to three hundred years old. This beast is a marvel of nature. For one, it is nearly immune to physical and magical attacks and can heal from almost anything short of a fatal injury, even regrowing lost body parts. Its muscles are strong enough to shred metal, and it can range over territory hundreds of miles across. Worst of all, they are functionally immortal as far as we can tell and will not die unless killed in battle."

She paused, the image coming to life as it turned, jaws snapping shut as wings flapped hard, carrying it in a circle over our heads. I swore I could smell the tang of rotting meat and feel my hair move in the wind kicked up by its flight.

Master Kendell scanned the room, noting every enraptured face before continuing, "Yet despite their superiority, the Founders drove dozens of them back into the depths of the wilds. Archmagus Torros himself killed several single-handedly over his storied career, including an ancient beast strong enough to wipe out Volaris. How is this possible?"

Someone in the front row raised his hand, and Professor Kendell nodded at him. "Our intelligence, Professor?"

She shook her head and responded, "A good guess, but no, not exactly. Some beasts are barely more than living stomachs, but most have at least some intelligence. The smartest are comparable to humans, though often with behavior that would appear entirely foreign to our understandings. A bit off-topic, but never try to apply human cultural and morals beliefs to a magical creature. They are not humans, but often novices forget this fact. Now, does anyone else want to try and answer?"

Another person spoke up, a girl this time. "Is it magic? I've read that most creatures use mana, but I have never read anything about magic specifically."

A smile split her face, and she nodded in satisfaction. "Exactly! Though we do not fully understand why, humans are the only known creatures who can gather, store and mold mana at will. Most magical beasts, with few exceptions, passively absorb mana and divert it into specific uses. Dragons, for instance, store nearly a quarter of their mana in their wings and the associated tissues to support powered flight. Now, that is not to say that particular creatures cannot make it appear like they are using a spell."

Another image appeared, this one of a small fox that darted around the room. As I watched it move, it seemed to almost melt, the edges of its body becoming hazy as it matched the background behind it.

"The dusk fox is an excellent example of this. Most of its mana is inside its skin and fur, and it can use this to alter patterns at will, camouflaging with its surroundings. Enchanters can create cloaks with similar effects, sometimes using their fur as a base material."

Master Kendell held up her hand, and a small image of a human appeared, standing only a few inches tall.

"While we lack these innate abilities, magic is the great equalizer. We can match them in sheer destructive power and far exceed their versatility, allowing humans to slaw creatures dozens of times our natural superiors. This class will help you understand these beasts better, hopefully helping to survive an encounter in the future and maybe gain a bit of respect for them along the way."

All three vanished, and she smiled, folding her arms behind her back and continuing, "Now that I have your attention, we can start with the basics of what separates humans from the rest biologically. Let's start with our cores."

The rest of the class passed quickly as we review mainly basic information. It might be boring in the hands of a lesser teacher, but Master Kendell spoke with an evident passion that came through with the apprentices echoed through the apprentices. Every question was met with a bright smile as she gave anecdotes or elaborated as needed. She was, at this point, the best of the teachers and, overall, one of the most pleasant people I met.

The material, though not groundbreaking yet, did raise a fascinating idea in my mind. What made these creatures use mana in such a distinctly different way? Why could they bind mana to their bodies, improving their vessels, while every attempt by Ferren mages to do the same failed? If my visions were accurate, it was possible, but how?

Thinking there was a secret was more manageable than accepting the alternative. What if those invaders were not human, but something that just looked human? And if they were not, how could I hope to battle them? Those questions did not have any answers, despite my desperate hopes to the contrary.