Silvy was motionless, reaching out to the sword. A voice had stopped her: the voice of her undead core. It had spoken actual words.

Why did it say those words? What did they mean?

Cores. Nearby. Slaves.

The cores nearby were slaves? The only cores that she could see were those of the weapons. Did the core refer to those? Was it telling Silvy that those cores were enslaved?

Did it mean...

“Excuse me, can you tell me how they are made as well? The process is different from the wands, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is different. As I said previously, the core in the wands is ground to dust and then inserted into the wand. In weapons and armors, the core is instead fused intact. You have no experience with magical weapons, don't you? Do you wish to hear the details?”

Silvy nodded even if she was afraid of hearing the answer.

“The objective of a wand is to help the caster gather and control the mana and nothing else: a complete core would still retain the instincts of the monster, and it might react in unwanted ways. The core is ground because it removes all instincts, retaining only the mana gathering effect. With a sword or armor, the objective is different: you want the core to retain some of its instincts to help the user in the fight. That’s why in that case the cores processed by a [Enchanter] have certain qualities enhanced and others reduced. To make an example with the cores you brought here: acid worms have sharp teeth but move slowly, so their main method of attack is acid-spitting. That means they have an intrinsic ability to aim the projectiles, making their cores ideal for bows: their core will be treated so that the only thing it will do is focusing on aiming the attacks, helping the bow user by correcting his aim. A shadow wolf might be used on armor to help the user hiding in shadows, or used in weapons to accelerate them. These two swords have different cores: in one is a harpy core, making it ideal for a fast and precise opening strike, while the other contains a core of an alpha giant cobra, quickening every strike. It’s a powerful sword and it’s unlikely it will remain unsold for long, even if it’s expensive. Please, try one of them: you will feel the difference the moment you touch it.”

Indeed, her fears were confirmed: the cores used in weapons and armors were still alive. Killed in body and then enslaved in mind, forced to serve their slayers until the day they were destroyed. Did humans realize the monsters were still alive? Did they care? Monsters were considered mindless beasts, incapable of thought. If Silvy had been a normal half-elf, would she have realized what was happening? Would she care? Probably not.

“Miss? Everything alright?”

A confused shopkeeper was watching Silvy: she had been staring at the weapons for some time. Should she reach for one?

She grabbed the sword with the harpy core, pulling it out of the scabbard in a single motion. She could feel the connection established with the sword: the mana from it was flowing into SIlvy and vice versa.

Silvy felt the core of the sword and her undead core turning from a sleeping state to an aggressive one. The sword in her hand swung itself aiming at Silvy’s head while Silvy’s mana was pouring into the sword, trying to kill it. She instantly ducked, feeling a few of her hairs being cut. The sword was fast, and it had changed the direction the last second! She opened her hand, dropping the sword to the ground. Luckily her body was still responding, rendering movements possible.

The shopkeeper was watching with wide eyes, having taken two steps back from Silvy. The rest of the customers had looked up when the sword had struck the ground, curious about the commotion.

Silvy spoke to the shopkeeper as if nothing strange had happened.

“It’s fast: so fast that it slipped. How much does a sword like this costs?”

She had no intention of picking the sword up and repeat the experience, so she just looked at the shopkeeper with the calmest expression she could muster.

“I- two thousand five hundred gold coins, miss. The other one is five thousand. It’s a lot more expensive but worth the increased speed, I assure you.”

Silvy nodded, face calm, mind blown by the amounts of money they were talking about.

“What’s the lowest price you can make on a magical sword?”

The shopkeeper finally moved closer, picking up the sword and putting it back into the rack.

“Well, that would be around two hundred gold coins, Miss: steel, of course, and with a basic precision enchantment. Oh, we call it basic but it’s valid, trust me: it will seem as if your enemies run into the sword themselves!”

A sword that helped Silvy with her aim? She didn’t need that. She could hit them herself! Moreover, wouldn’t that impair her training? She had dreamed about having a flaming sword, or-or maybe with capable of calling thunders down from the sky? She was disappointed by the… mundanity of the stuff. More importantly, how could she use a magic sword if it tried to kill her every time it was wielded?

Silvy shook her head, refusing the deal.

“No, I don’t need something so basic. But unfortunately I don’t have the kind of funds needed to buy a better sword: I’ll be back when I have them. I’ll just take the wand and the armor for now.”

The shopkeeper was disappointed but didn’t insist: he probably wanted the crazy child covered in blood out of his store at this point.

She took the wand, storing it into her bag, and placed the order for the armor. After her measurements were quickly taken, Silvy paid and got out of the store, yet again followed by the soldier. She turned to him, asking for the directions of a clothing store; after having convinced him to lead the way by threatening to stay like this the whole day she followed him, reaching ‘Stitch and patches’.

The store was small, with a single woman at the counter, knitting. For a moment, a long one, Silvy saw her mother knitting under the window, illuminated by the moonlight, deep into the night. She had worked hard, getting money to care for both of them: Silvy was sure that was what killed her.

Silvy shook her head, vanishing the illusion: it would only bring sadness. She moved closer to the counter, noticing various pieces of clothing on the shelves: they were not high quality but were good progress from the clothes she currently wore.

The woman had noticed Silvy and put down her half-finished work.

“Goodness, you really need new clothes. And a bath. Throw away that stuff: I’ll show a few good pieces.”

The woman started bringing out clothes for children one after the other, explaining how the colors could make her eyes, her hair or her features stand out. All the clothes were with a long skirt, designed with a normal child in mind: one who didn’t kill monsters for a living. Silvy was overwhelmed by the woman eagerness and was able to stop her only after a dozen clothes had been presented to her, managing to speak only because the woman had stopped to breathe.

“I need to be able to move nimbly: no skirt, no frills. Male clothing is fine.”

The woman looked disheartened. She was probably having fun showing all the pretty clothes to an equally pretty child, but Silvy had destroyed her expectations with her request. After a moment longer, she spoke again.

“I see. I just thought that you would normally fight in armor; moreover, don’t you need clothes to just walk around the city? Surely you can buy something cute!”

Silvy was feeling a headache incoming; this woman reminded her of her mother, and she didn’t want to hurt her. But why would she want something cute? She wanted something useful, not pretty dresses.

“I don’t need cute clothes, sorry; I need functional ones. Please, show me those.”

The woman at this point was almost crying, destroyed by the disinterest of Silvy in being cute.

“Ok. Yes, I see. I’m sorry. I will show you men’s clothing if I have something of your size…”

She looked over Silvy once again, trying to figure out a fitting size of men’s clothing. Luckily, Silvy thought, she was not as big as grown women in the chest… Wait, did an undead grow up? Would she be stuck with this body?

The woman came back with Silvy contemplating horrifying futures, bringing a pile of cloth clothes and a single, adult-sized, leather one.

“These clothes will not restrain your movements. I wish to show you something else: this one.”

She showed the leather clothes to Silvy, holding the shirt.

“These are made of Flotalouns hide; they are so light you can hardly feel them. Here, hold it.”

Silvy had no idea of what flotalouns were. The woman passed the shirt to Silvy and her arm shot up a bit before catching herself. The shirt was light! It was leather, but she could hardly feel the weight, almost as if she was empty-handed. But it was not thin, nor see-through: it was brown leather, with the same consistency as many other leather products.

“What is this? It has no weight! What are flotalouns?”

The woman smiled, happy to see Silvy had found something she liked.

“Flotalouns are monsters that live high up in the sky. They float up there, carried around by the wind. Their skin is extremely light so that they can float, but it’s tough nonetheless to defend themselves. I actually saw one alive once: they are like a ball, with no eyes and no mouth. The merchant said that they emit air from small holes to move around, but they moved only if they were in the shadows for long: he showed us!”

Interesting; did they sustain themselves through mana? That was what Silvy was guessing. She was impressed by the quality of the leather, but the clothes were not her size.

“I’m interested, but they are too big. Can you make them for me? How much for a complete set of shirts, pants, and underwear?”

“Well, the leather is quite costly, you see. For the leather and the job… fifteen gold pieces I’d say.”

Wow, that was a lot. But she had the money, and she needed clothes: this material had attracted her attention.

“Alright. How long will it take?”

“It’ll be ready for tomorrow.”

Silvy also bought three normal clothes, convinced by the shopkeeper to buy a cute one: a green dress with shoulder straps, reaching to her knees. Two pairs of shoes and sixteen gold pieces later she was out of the shop again. All in all the sun was still high in the sky, starting only now the long journey towards sunset.

Silvy recalled a bathhouse on the main street near the mages' guild: perfect. The soldier escorted her to the destination, finally leaving Silvy alone, much to her and his relief.

Half an hour later, a clean and decently dressed child stepped out of the bathhouse, unrecognizable after having disposed of her old clothes and having spent five silver coins for cleaning herself: too much for her liking.

She finally could get something useful done; she felt like she had wasted time until now, even if she did buy some useful stuff. Her next destination: the mages' guild.

A few minutes later Silvy was looking through the lessons poster, locating a basic lesson taking place in an hour. Reading through the entirety of the poster, she found the way to register to the lessons: the counters to the sides of the room, not at the back. Luckily, the queue was not long even with only two receptionists and moved fast: people reached one of the receptionists, told the course they intended to follow, paid the necessary fee and were given a small cube with a hole running through it. Silvy noticed the other students had a string on them with various cubes passing through it, all identical to each other. These strings were on the side of the counter, inside a small chest open to everyone; Silvy paid for her fees and got a cube.

“May I take one of the strings?”

“Yes; they are for the students, free of charge. Don’t lose the cube: it’s a key that will allow you to enter the building in which the associated course to it takes place. They are bound to your mana, so no else can use them. I remind you that listening-in students sit at the back of the classroom. Have a nice day.”

That was what they were! Make sense: you didn’t give people free access everywhere.

Silvy thanked the receptionist and walked into the courtyard. This place was still pacifying, washing away worries and stray thoughts, clearing her mind. The effects were great: why weren’t people coming inside to relax? No one had stopped her once in all of her visits; was there another reason?

Silvy had around an hour to spend before the lesson. She walked around for a few minutes, enjoying the peace; then she went to the building the lesson would take place in.

The entrance led to a central hall, with two hallways to the right and left, each one with two wooden doors a few dozens of meters apart. The hall had a red carpet covering the entire floor, leaving only a small space from the walls; the carpet also went down the hallways, leaving a larger gap from the walls but maintaining a path leading up to the doors. A beautiful chandelier hung from the ceiling of the hall, illuminating everything with magical lights, while the corridors had lamps along their wall. The stone walls were polished and clean and attached to them, in the back of the hall, were two sets of stairs leading up and turning at the corner, bringing to the next floor. This building screamed richness: Silvy had never seen such a beautiful chandelier and carpet. It was soft and clean: she leaned down and touched it. She wanted to walk on it with bare feet: she had the feeling it would be blissful.

The various doors in the corridors had a number above it, explaining to Silvy why the building D-5 didn’t exist: the five was the room inside it. Only four doors were in the hallways: room five was probably on the second floor.

She went upstairs, noting that the second floor was very similar to the first one apart from the missing stairs. The hallway on the left had odd numbers above the doors; going closer to the door, she could hear voices inside, probably an ongoing lesson. She went to the opposite side by the windows, looking down in the courtyard.

After about fifteen minutes she saw a stream of people coming from the entrance of the guild, branching off to different buildings. A few people came in the same building as Silvy, some stopping in front of the same door.

They were all older than Silvy, with even an elderly man. Some standing alone, others mingling together, but even the ones staying together were speaking quietly.

Silvy had no desire to speak with them: they were all older than her; she just kept watching outside. More and more people kept coming until a bell ringed through the building. Silvy jumped, not expecting the noise; but this was apparently a common occurrence because people had not reacted like her. The door in front of Silvy opened after that, with around thirty people coming through.

The small crowd waiting outside went inside after the last few people had left. She followed them, seeing a room with chairs and desks all around and with two steps, each rising the level of the room the further you went in. Entering you would see a single desk and a chair behind it, with a blackboard behind. A couple of meters in front of the desk was the first step, with five rows of fifteen desks each on top of it; behind them another step with nine rows of fifteen desks. The room was big, but the people were few compared to the number of desks: she wondered why.

The crowd divided roughly into two parts, one going to the first rows and the other going in the back; remembering the instructions Silvy moved in the back, choosing an isolated desk.

Another difference Silvy noted when passing by was the difference in the furniture: in the front rows the desks and chairs were made of treated wood, polished and clean; in the back, the furniture was made of cheap wood with some dirt on it. The difference in treatments in the two types of students was evident, but Silvy had sat on filthier stuff and she had just come out of the sewers; a bit of dust wouldn’t scare her.

She didn’t wait too long before a man around his forties entered the room, dressed in a suit and with a pair of glasses. He walked inside scanning the students, missing a step when focusing on Silvy and delaying his gaze for a few seconds. Only a single student in the front rows noticed the strange behavior: a young man that didn’t reach his twenties.

The professor reached his desk and started the lesson without delay.

“Welcome back to the basic course of mana manipulation. Today we will resume the exercise to develop your sight and see the mana of other beings.”

Saying that he brought out four sealed vials, identical to one another, and positioned them on the desk, walking around the class after that.

“As in the previous lesson, each vial has a different quantity of mana. Look at them for fifteen seconds each until you can tell me which one has the most mana inside.”

Wait, that was it? That was easy. She just had to expand her mana and feel-

When Silvy started to expand her mana the professor went straight towards her, slapping her with a book in the back of her head.

“Not by feeling it! Use only your eyes!”

Silvy massaged her head with a painful expression: the impact had been strong. She didn’t feel pain from it, but she had to pretend she did: she was already breathing and blinking all the time to hide her secret.

How was she supposed to see the mana if she couldn’t feel it?! That was hard. She concentrated on the vials again, trying to see a difference. They were all the same.

The professor in the meantime was walking through the classroom, advising various students. After a few minutes, he passed by Silvy’s desk, speaking to her again.

“This is your first lesson in this class, right? Concentrate your mana in the eyes; if you keep at it for long enough you’ll be able to see mana and gain a Skill.”

Oh. She was missing a piece of the puzzle: that was why she wasn’t seeing anything. She did just that and the world changed in a single second.

Streams of mana, invisible before, appeared before her eyes: the room had hundreds of streams flowing all around, from big to minuscule ones. Every person had an aura, a flame burning around them; each one had different intensities, with the professor burning stronger than everyone. She looked at her hand, trying to see her flame: it was burning, searing, even stronger than the professor. These flames weren’t always in her view: if Silvy didn’t concentrate on them, they would "disappear”, becoming part of the background. The vials also had flames inside them, all with different intensities: the leftmost with the strongest, while the rightmost with the weakest, in order.

Silvy was fascinated by the streams in the air, so she switched back at watching them. They moved around, taking impossible paths and turns; they passed through walls, inside people and each other, sometimes reversing course completely for a certain section. And they were all white. Not a simple white, but a bright one. Not dazzling: warm. And even these words couldn’t do justice to the beautiful white all around her. She couldn’t describe it; how could white be so beautiful? Such a simple color so neglected in everyday life; and yet this white was daring, screaming at everyone: I am here. I am beautiful: witness me. A single tear fell from Silvy’s eyes.

Before a hand suddenly covered her vision.

“Do not stare at them: you will burn your eyes. Stop concentrating the mana in your eyes; give them a chance to rest.”

The hand was removed, restoring Silvy’s sight. The professor was watching her with proud eyes, concerned at the same time.

Silvy looked at the professor: his hand had some blood on it. She cleaned her cheek, seeing the blood. Her blood. It was not much; probably because the professor had stopped her before more damage could be dealt.

“What was that?...”

“No questions from listening-in students, I’m sorry. But you have passed this test: tonight you will most likely receive the Skill. If not, train by yourself and remember to not stare at the streams in the air”

The professor watched the classroom, noticing all the students staring at the vials. He leaned towards Silvy, talking so that only she could hear him.

“A shame you didn’t partake in the previous lessons. You would have learned many things, such as that mana in the air is so much archmages can barely see it. Monsters manipulate mana through their cores, and we use those cores to manipulate it in turn. Expending your mana increases your pool size. Unfortunately, you don’t know that a certain female archmage, currently in the building L, is willing to teach you. A real shame you didn’t hear about that. By the way, you have completed today’s lesson; you can go.”

The professor walked away, having spoken so quickly and quietly that he hadn’t attracted the attention of a single student.

Did this professor Silvy hadn’t ever seen before knew her name? And did he just help her? A female archmage teaching her… Lindrl? She was going to be personally taught? Why? Did she not say she wouldn’t do it? What had changed?

Silvy remained seated for a few more minutes, gathering her thoughts. She then stood up and walked away, managing to catch the attention of the whole room. Building L? Where was it?

She left, out in the courtyard that was, as always, with few people moving around. The map she saw that same night was nearby, so she went over there: building L was quite a distance away.

For all the natural beauty this courtyard had, the buildings were a good addition; but they were all the same, apart from the library and a tall one in the distance. Building L was no exception, exactly like all the others: a two-story stone building with a single entrance. A woman was standing at the side of the door, looking directly at Silvy. She was dressed in purple, with a short skirt and blouse with vertical white lines. A pair of glasses created a businesslike impression, enhanced by her green eyes and black hair styled in a ponytail.

“Silvy I suppose? [Archmage] Lindrl is awaiting you.”

Silvy nodded and the woman scowled at her.

“You may be a genius, but you have the privilege of learning from an [Archmage] famous throughout the world. Respect and discipline are expected from you. Is that understood?”

Silvy had already decided this woman was annoying, ordering her to be nice. She reckoned, after a second, that complying was a good idea after all.

“I understand Miss. I am grateful for the opportunity: I won’t waste it.”

The woman was apparently pleased because her scowl relaxed slightly; she opened the door, waiting for Silvy to pass before closing it and guiding her on the second floor.

Silvy was brought to the second door of the right hallway and the woman politely knocked.

“Come in.”

A voice responded: Lindrl. The woman, that Silvy had decided was some kind of secretary, opened the door and let Silvy step inside, bowing to Lindrl and closing the door right after.

They were in a classroom, just like the one Silvy had been ten minutes ago. Lindrl was leaning on the desk, smiling.

“We meet again Silvy. Please, take a seat.”

The desk reserved for the teacher had two chairs, one next to the other. Lindrl sat and Silvy followed her example.

“Let me start, please. I wish to take you as an apprentice. But not right now: Kal has won the contest, so he has the right to ask you first. He wishes to teach you, but he will never accept a hybrid. To tell you the truth, I’m still not completely convinced. But your mana pool… It expanded so much from when I saw you tonight: I’ve never seen anything like this. I will not waste your talent, swordsmanship or not: if you don’t abandon it, I will teach you in place of Kal.”

Her pool had expanded? Curious. She had had as much mana as an archmage, and now even more. Why? The core was responsible, of course. The sleep? Whatever: it helped Silvy, so it was good. Being privately taught by an archmage… even better. She wanted to start right now.

“I will keep learning swordsmanship, personal lessons or not. But if you are willing, I want to start right now; can I refuse archmage Kal’s tutoring?”

Lindrl coughed and laughed at the same time, amused.

“You want to refuse Kal? Just like that? Is that bravery or ignorance, I wonder. Yes, you can refuse his invitation anytime you wish. But he is the best archmage on the continent: I am an archmage as well as his student, but I still can’t compare to him. To refuse lessons from him… people would kill to take your place.”

Lindrl shook her head, unbelieving.

“This is your only chance: he’ll never accept you after your first refusal. I still think you should concentrate on magic and leave the sword.”

“No. I will use both. I can do it. I refuse his offer and accept yours. How do I tell him?”

Lindrl stared at Silvy for a minute, trying to break her resolve; Silvy stared back, defiant. In the end, Lindrl asked her one last time.

“I can tell him right now. No going back. Are you sure?”

Silvy nodded without looking away.

“[Remote Conversation]”

Lindrl took out her wand, staring at the ceiling for a dozen of seconds. After that she put the wand down, looking at Silvy again.

“Done. You are now my disciple. Let’s start the lesson then.”

Lindrl changed the tone to an inflexible one, looking at Silvy with a serious expression.

“Alright. First, show me how much you can do. Draw a line with mana.”

Silvy instantly complied, forming a thin line made of mana over her hand.

Lindrl shot up from her seat, wand in hand, pointing it at the sky. Silvy felt the mana in the air stir, answering Lindrl spell.

“[Hiding Ward]”.

She then looked at Silvy with incredulity in her eyes.

“Can all elves do that? No, that isn't possible. You just moved your mana perfectly without a wand! Maybe half-elves...? Do it again.”

Oops. She forgot to use the wand. So much for covering her steps. Stupid Silvy! She wanted to kick herself. And when she was done, she would do it again.

“Ehm, ok…”

She got in over her head now. She should think of something… feigning ignorance was probably her best bet: every excuse she could think of would be easily seen through. Half-elf gift? Find another one and ask him. Her wand was under her clothes? It was in her bag of holding! She was good only at drawing lines? That was just stupid.

Hell, why not going big? A power that could be stolen or dangerous would be protected and hidden; if she did not think too much of it by showing off, what were the chances she had something stealable? None. Or maybe Lindrl would think she was stupid.

She resolved to do just that: she created a line, just like requested. Then another one, on top of the other. And another.

Eight thin lines of mana were created by Silvy, much to the disbelief of Lindrl.

Lindrl was so dumbstruck that she put down her wand and tried to create a line of mana without it. In her defense, it was a good attempt. The line was almost straight, with only a few thicker sections. Sweat was trickling down her face and she was breathing hard, dropping the attempt after about twenty seconds. All this time Silvy had maintained the lines with indifference, watching Lindrl with a confused expression. Play dumb!

“Why are you having so much trouble, teacher? It’s just a line.”

Silvy could swear a vein had popped on the head of her teacher; she had to restrain herself to not laugh.

“You mana control is unheard-of. Try using a wand. How many can you make with it?”

Silvy complied, trying to create a line with the wand’s help. She felt the core in her heart stirring when she started creating a shape, as always. The wand was not helping at all: it was the same as not having it. She kept creating them, feeling the strain in her mind at the tenth line: she took a long time and almost lost control of the other lines creating the last one.

“Ten? You really have no training at all. Let me show you what a true [Archmage] can do with a focus.”

Her tone was smug, authoritative. Lindrl wielded her wand and the mana stirred; that didn’t happen with Silvy. Lines started forming one after the other behind her: ten, twenty, thirty. A hundred perfectly made lines were behind her, thin and straight.

Silvy was gaping. That was impossible!

“Impressed? This is the difference between using your mana efficiently and using it poorly: it can be learned only through training, no shortcuts. But that’s a far goal for you. Or maybe not: with how quickly you learn I wouldn’t be surprised if in a couple of years you reach my level. But that is for later: first, we’ll go over the theory.”

The smile blossoming over Lindrl was scary, and Silvy was sure this was going to be boring.