Alone in my room, I took long deep breaths, feeling mana enter my core, slowly refilling my reserves. They would naturally recover on their own, but that was too slow for my purposes.

A week had passed since the hunting expedition, and though I had managed to avoid serious injury, that luck would run out sooner or later. I already had two potential deaths looming on the horizon and would rather not add a third possibility.

When I felt ready, I took a single long inhale and pulled on my core, reciting a modified incantation for Traveler's Cloak, including Old Ferren words for "strength" and "protection." Rather than put the minimal amount of energy, as usual, I pushed hard and forced more through my channels. And throughout all of this, I kept the overriding image of durable green shielding fixed in my mind.

It must have been the twentieth attempt, and like before, the mana flooded from my core, straining against my control. I pushed, keeping my focus, and after a few seconds, I felt a pop as a familiar green shell appeared a few inches above my skin, humming softly. It vanished after a second, but when I tried to interlock my fingers, they encountered an invisible barrier, feeling as hard and unyielding as stone.

I grinned, feeling a childish urge to pump my fist or cheer but tamped both down. The spell was effectively my creation, hopefully, the first of many, though that was a bit inaccurate. In truth, it was a combination of two existing spells which I had ham-fistedly merged.

The first, Mana Shield, created a sphere around the user to protect them from harm. I suspected my future counterpart favored it and could see why. It was easy and straightforward, and I managed to get it down within a few hours but found myself unimpressed.

It might keep me alive, but it was five feet across, and all that volume wasted mana. I preferred a spell that conformed to my body, minimizing waste, and spent some time trying to find something like that before realizing I already had something. It was the first spell I cast, for that matter.

Traveler's Cloak was a convenience spell that I improvised for training, but it was, at its heart, a shield. Fragile and weak, but if I could push more mana into it, apply some concepts from Mana Shield and alter the chant, it should work. And as it happened, I was right.

Though I had managed it, the spell was not even close to good enough. It would protect me from any first-year apprentice and plenty of weak monsters, but it was also strenuous and mana-intensive. Both combined, I had a few minutes at best, less if I was attacking with magic at the same time.

So, I needed to strengthen my channels, improve my control to shrink the spell closer to my skin, and bolster my reserves. Oh, and train dueling, martial skills, mana sensing, mana shrouding, and a few dozen other skills.

At least, with three fewer classes on my plate and my continued use of potions, I had more time than ever to train and study. I stood, dropping the spell, and grabbed a wooden staff from where it sat in one corner of the room, walking to the center of my quarters.

I had pushed the couch, chairs, and table as far away as possible to give me space to practice. Stepping into the first strike, I kept my focus outwardly directed, trying to sense mana simultaneously. I could do it while stationary, but that was less useful in the long term. Improving my sensory abilities and making them second nature would open up several potential avenues that might give me a valuable edge.

Despite constant training, I remained at best, a little above the average in most regards. Amelia was the better warrior, and Simon outmatched me in crafting skills. Leon had charisma and charm that I would never reach, and Sophia was a prodigy in dueling and spell casting. Out of my close allies, the only area I excelled in was my control, which was entirely thanks to experience.

Not for the first time, I wondered how my future counterpart had grown so strong. Was it entirely thanks to our natural talents? I knew I had a high 'cap' on my power, but it was so damned slow getting there.

There was a knock on my door, and I shook my head, pushing aside those concerns and opening it to find Leon waiting outside, a warm smile on his face.

"Good evening, Vayne. Might I come in?"

"Of course, sir. Please," I responded, stepping to one side and letting him in, "What can I do for you tonight?"

"No sirs, for the ten-thousandth time. When we are alone, Leon is fine," he said, appearing almost angry for a moment.

He seemed to take my silence as agreement, continuing, "I came by for two things. The first is something you should appreciate. My father has agreed that your mana type is a hindrance and decided to lend assistance. An elixir, which should stimulate growth in your core and channels. I do not know the specifics, but he assured me it would arrive within a few weeks."

I could not decide how to feel. Part of me was excited at the prospect, knowing that it would reduce one issue plaguing me. Another screamed that it was wrong to rely on someone else like this. If I was going to grow into something special, I should learn to stand on my own.

Rationality won over pride, as it always did. Turning down practical gifts or acting like an arrogant fool would lead to disaster. I would accept Duke Estton's assistance now and endeavor to make sure I never needed to again.

"Thank you, Leon. I promise to repay the debt." I replied, fully intending to do just that.

"You are not just our advisor, Vayne. I hope to build trust, and even friendship with you, much like my father has with Girem. That said, we cannot provide much more assistance. My father has a wide swath of territory to handle, after all."

"Of course. I should be able to take care of myself from now on."

Leon walked a few feet away, sitting on my couch, and responded, "Now, in the interests of that trust, I want to share an...issue I have had with my magic. One I want to get your thoughts on, specifically."

"An issue? Of what sort?"

He looked at the floor, his fingers laced in front of him, and for a moment, he looked his age. I was used to Leon with shoulders squared and eyes forward, but now he looked embarrassed or possibly even ashamed.

"It's difficult to say, but my core and channels are...well, there is no getting around it. They are minuscule, barely large enough to reach Mist, if I'm lucky. My father and I are taking steps to compensate, but it will take years to get there. I was hoping you might be of some help."

His reaction made sense. Nobility prided themselves on their strength, and the Esttons were one of the greatest. There was no rule saying that Sophia could not become the family head, but I felt she did not want the position. She seemed more interested in studying, training, and practicing her magic than learning to socialize and interact with nobles.

"Forgiveness, sir, but I am sure your father or Girem would know more than me. I might know a good deal about magic, but Duke Estton is a fully trained mage."

"All true. But you are my advisor and friend, as I've said. I don't want to know what they think. I want to know what you think."

I ignored another uncomfortable twinge and rubbed my chin, taking a minute to gather my thoughts.

"What sort of training or preparations are you doing to get around your shortcomings?"

"A few things. My father provided a gathering method that stretches my core and channels while using it. There's more to it, but I'm not sure how well my father would enjoy me sharing it. Besides that, I've been using some resources to grow them as well, but those are slow and painful."

"And you are a wind aspect, yes?"

Wind magic was a versatile field, with mobility spells and offensive options galore. Even weaker mages could levitate or send gusts strong enough to throw around people like toys. The stronger ones could fly or generate storms at will, ripping apart entire towns.

But those were not options for Leon. He needed quality over quantity and a versatile form taking advantage of his strengths over weaknesses. As Master Julian, and Master Barlow, for that matter, had advised me, we should form our styles based upon natural inclinations.

And then the idea occurred to me, something drawing from my future self and his talents. I might not plan to follow in his footsteps, but that did not mean I could not use his abilities as inspiration.

"This might sound a bit off-topic, but I have heard you are a skilled archer. Is this true?"

"Yes, I am. Why?" in a tone that was not insulted, so much as curious.

I smiled and held up a hand, creating a bolt, and responded, "My mana and natural talents are in most ways opposite of yours. But ironically, we share the same weakness. Neither of us can use too much energy at once. I get around this by using smaller volumes at high density, taking advantage of my raw power to overwhelm defenses. It is a bit crude but effective. For you, this is still not an option. However, there have been mages who combined tools and magic to great effect."

Leon nodded, responding, "I've considered that already, but it's difficult. I need to focus mana around my arrows, but aiming takes a decent amount of attention. Doing both at once is just too much."

"Normally, yes, but I have learned a bit about enchanting. And my classmate Simon comes from a family of skillful crafters. I can speak with him to get more details, but it seems reasonable that he can help come up with something effective."

"Simon? Can you vouch for him?"

"Without a doubt. Simon is more knowledgeable in these crafting disciplines than I. Tomorrow, I can speak with him and learn some more. I will be sure to be as discrete as possible."

Leon nodded a few times before rising and holding out his hand, which I took, squeezing firmly and giving him another smile.

"Thank you, Vayne. And again, I apologize for bothering you. Good evening."

"And you, Leon," I replied, trying his first name out rather than a formal sir. His eyes glinted, and his smile grew, but it still felt wrong to me. Girem would have my ass if he heard me speak so casually.

After he left, my mind returned to our conversation. He had called me his friend. But was I?

One of my earliest memories was when I was a young boy, shortly after moving into the Estton household. I was learning to read, and Girem had given me exercises, determined to drill it into my head as quickly as possible. But I was a child, and my thoughts had wandered to the servant's children, who had far fewer duties than me.

They had invited me to play with them, and I nearly had accepted. If Girem had not come by to check on me, I would have been gone, but luck was rarely on my side. He had taken me aside, a furious glare on his face as I tried to hold back tears.

"We cannot have friends, Vayne. Nobility can, but not us. We have allies and enemies. Tools, and the like, but never friends. It makes us unable to do what we must. Do you understand?" he had demanded as I gritted my teeth and stared at the ground.

I had remained silent and felt his hand on my shoulder as he knelt before me. Girem had met my eyes then and continued, "It is not an easy life, but it is ours. You will understand someday."

I had thought I did, at least until recently. It was a maxim that Girem lived by, and I took to heart. He was my mentor and likely the closest thing to a parent I had. Other tutors came and went, but he was a constant, and his lessons often contained wisdom.

But when Leon claimed I was a friend, or Simon asked me for help. Or when Amelia helped me up after a duel, I could not help but question him.

Allies could betray, and enemies might change based on circumstances. But friends, true friends, would remain, would they not? The irony was that, even though part of me wanted them, I could not have any. Friendship required trust, and I was hiding too much to earn that.

I shook my head and returned to my staff training, trying to banish the mixed thoughts from my head. I had too much to accomplish, and it was entirely too early to lose my determination. There was too much on the line.