It was the beginning of the last week before classes, and he had a lot to do. He needed to meet with his new advisor and arrange living quarters for the coming term.

Veil was currently walking down a broad, well-lit hallway toward his new mentor’s office. Strangely, the note telling him where to go had neglected any information about with whom he would be working. Arriving at the correct office, Veil knocked on the door.

“Enter,” a familiar voice instructed.

Walking into the office, Veil saw the Feran Kuin, Charik’tah’ziith. Veil lifted his eyebrows, mildly surprised and somewhat anxious. He had wondered when he would run into the Feran Kuin next.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Silva, and feel free to call me Professor, or Professor Charik, or Mr. Charik,” Charik’tah’ziith said. “I know how difficult it is for humans to pronounce my name.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Veil noted absently that Charik’s strange voice seemed to emanate partly from a gold disc, hanging around his throat.

The Feran’s office had an unusual layout, doubtless because of his body configuration. The bookshelves were filled with textbooks, notebooks, and binders, the usual clutter Veil associated with teachers. Still, rather than a desk, there was a low table, upon which Charik rested his true-hands. Each hand had three fingers, two of which faced forward and the third facing backward. The upper arms were set somewhat back on his shoulders and held down at his sides.

Veil took one of the two wooden chairs opposite Charik’s table.

“I am tasked to be your advisor for the first year,” Charik stated, idly using one of his true-hands and a foot-hand to leaf through a sheaf of papers. “In fact, I requested the post.”

“May I ask why you decided to be my advisor,” Veil asked, leaning back and affecting a casual air. He was unsurprised by the Feran’s admission.

Running into Charik first at the dance, seeing him in the divination test, and then not seeing a name on the advisor’s list had all but confirmed the Feran had an interest in him, probably for his psychic abilities.

“I seek out students with specific talents, both to nurture their skills and for selfish reasons. Many of my advisees have, over the years, helped me with my research into trans-dimensional travel,” Charik replied, looking up from the documents. “When they are not busy accidentally turning themselves inside out.”

The Feran shook his head while Veil mentally repeated, turning themselves inside out.

No, focus – ask about inside out students later.

“Although you are far from being ready for that,” Charik said and scratched his chin. “The transdimensional travel part, that is.”

It could be a language barrier, but I’m almost certain my new mentor just insulted me. Veil narrowed his eyes at the Feran.

Allowing his state of mind to shift, Veil tapped his leg nervously and asked, “Exactly what talent are you speaking of, Professor?”

“Specifically, Mr. Silva, your abilities as a psychic,” Charik replied.

Veil froze for a second.

“I have no intention of revealing your abilities,” The Feran added. “I know how difficult that could be for a person in your situation, and I would never inform anyone else unless you were using those skills unethically.”

Taking a deep breath, Veil stated, “I see.” Did that mean the Feran would inform on him if he didn’t live up to his expectations, or if he didn’t do as the creature requested? There were a lot of possibilities in that statement. “What does this mean for me, and how did you know?” It was the last part of the question that was most important to Veil.

“I knew, Mr. Silva, because all Feran Kuin have inborn senses that allow us to detect aura related phenomena,” Charik answered, looking Veil directly in the eyes. Oddly, the Feran’s rectangular pupils and alien features did not detract from his earnest mien. “Your powers show up quite clearly to someone who can read auras. As for what it means for you, I am your advisor and will serve in that capacity. Let’s leave the future to the future.”

Charik gave Veil a few moments to think over what he said before continuing, “Are you ready to discuss your areas of focus and with whom you will work? Remember that when you join a group, or cohort as they refer to it at Ithalaan, it is likely that you will be working with those students for years.”

Veil hesitated and then said, “I had hoped to join the cohorts led by Professor Kang for unstructured magic, Professor Cosven for divination, and the cohort you lead in technomagic. My grandmother already arranged for me to study medical magic under a woman named Indali Varma. Although Dr. Varma is not formally attached to Ithalaan Academy, she works at a local clinic.”

“An ambitious schedule, Mr. Silva, but manageable with your psychic gifts,” Charik said, marking down Veil’s replies.

“However, I feel that I must warn you. Be careful not to be too proud of your extra abilities, “Charik cautioned while leaning forward and clenching his true-hands lightly for emphasis. “Remember that half or more of the students you will be working with will have bloodline powers.”

Veil nodded at yet another reminder of how small he was in the grand scheme of things.

“I can approve all of these choices,” Charik said, transferring Veil’s selections to an official document.

Veil stood up, readying to leave, but Charik made one more remark, “You are wise not to reveal your psychic powers. I have known several students with your skills and social position over the years. Many of them were forced into unpleasant circumstances. Often being monitored continuously by the authorities if they weren’t deemed sufficiently loyal. I advise you to continue to exercise caution.”

As Veil walked slowly back to his dorm, head tilted down toward the walkway, he thought about his meeting. Government attention was something he would avoid as long as possible. The most important question was if the Feran could be trusted.

Veil considered what he knew of the Feran Kuin. They were a reclusive people who isolated themselves in their own enclaves, but they also wielded considerable political and economic power. Their species had a good reputation and lived harmoniously with human beings. That was a puzzle. Considering how duplicitous, untrustworthy, and xenophobic the human race was, there had to be more to the Feran Kuins success than mere kindness. There was no way they could act purely altruistically and exert that sort of power. He needed to cure his ignorance of the Feran Kuin in general and Professor Charik in particular.

If the Feran was honest, then a deal could be struck; if not, he would have to determine the proper way to counter any aggressive demands. Veil looked up, realizing he had reached his dorm.

The day after his talk with Professor Charik, Veil looked over his cramped dorm room with dissatisfaction, pondering his options. This room was utterly inadequate. He needed space to create alchemical solutions to sell to Ivan Seng and an area to work on his other non-sanctioned activities. Not to mention that the academy wouldn’t approve of some of his weapons.

Melik and Ilya walked in a moment later, interrupting Veil’s thoughts.

“These dorms are great,” Ilya declared, stopping in the middle of the cramped room. “No parents around to tell us what to do.”

Melik, who had continued walking the short distance to the desk, gave Ilya a side glance before looking at Veil. Veil who was sitting cross-legged on the bed, could almost reach out and touch either of his friends without moving. He struggled against the urge to roll his eyes.

“Sure, they’re great, as long as you hate girls,” Veil responded while suppressing a small feeling of guilt. He wasn’t tricking them, just giving them useful information. It was for their own good. If they rented a house with him, they would have a lot more freedom. Not to mention, it would provide him with space, away from prying eyes.

“What do you mean?” The girl crazed boy asked, with his eyebrows drawing together.

“How are you going to spend time alone with girls if your roommate is always right next to you?” Veil said.

Ilya’s expression fell, and Melik stopped and turned back to face him. He had started to pick up a large textbook.

“Don’t worry,” Veil said. “I have a solution to this problem. I can’t stay in the dormitory since I have weapons and I need a potion making space. I’ve decided to rent a house. If you two want, we could get a place together.”

“Let’s do it,” Ilya said and bounced up and down on his toes.

“I’m definitely interested,” Melik replied quickly, “I wasn’t looking forward to staying in a dorm for five years?” Melik glanced over at Ilya before looking back at Veil. “I’m not sure if my parents can afford it.”

“Your parents can pay the same amount it would take for you to stay in a dorm,” Veil replied, pleased that he would be able to control exactly who and when people had access to his home.

“This is great,” Ilya said. “We can have a party every weekend.”

Veil almost swallowed his tongue at this pronouncement.

The residence they finally settled on was less than half a kilometer from the university. It was a two-story affair with the requisite basement, had four bedrooms, and even came partially furnished. All four bedrooms were on the second floor, with the first floor being taken up by a kitchen, living room, and dining room. Perhaps they would eventually find a roommate to occupy the fourth bedroom.

Veil was currently unloading the alchemy and weapon supplies he had brought from home. Reaching into one of the two trunks sitting in the middle of the basement’s grey cement floors, he drew forth several green potion bottles. Then walked to one of the two open faced, knotted pine cabinets and placed bottles on the shelves. Repeating this process, he filled one of the cupboards.

“How are things going,” Ilya asked, walking down the basement’s rough wooden stairs. “Do you have everything you need?”

“No, but I have a lot more supplies being sent from home, and I’ll buy anything else I’m missing,” Veil grumpily replied, suppressing his annoyance. Privacy looked like a more challenging goal to accomplish than he had thought.

Ilya wandered around the room, examined a counter filled with several glass beakers, flasks, and two propane burners before stopping at the table holding a terrarium with several brown furred rodents running around in it. The boy bent over and leaned close to the glass.

“Where did you get mice?” Ilya asked.

“I cast an animal attraction spell a few hours ago,” Veil replied. “Our house has mouse droppings all over it. This way, I got to clean the house and some new pets at the same time.”

They will be my assistants in mind magic training, Veil thought.

“Don’t eat the mice,” Veil said, making a friendly taunt that had nothing to do with his annoyance over the boy entering his space without asking permission.

Ilya got a horrified look on his face and quickly said, “I would never harm the mice.” Before his expression quickly morphed to annoyance, “You jerk.”

After a pause, Ilya asked, “Melik and I were going to get something to eat and wondered if you wanted to come along?”

“Well, I was planning on brooding in my evil lair, but food sounds good too,” Veil quipped.

“You want to be a dark overlord?” Ilya asked, fast with a gleam in his eyes. “Like go out and conquer a small country or something.”

“I’m joking,” Veil said, staring suspiciously at Ilya. Was the boy making fun of him, getting him back for the mouse joke? Veil wasn’t sure if the boy was that naïve or secretly mocking him.

***

Ithalaan’s class structure was unusual. Although the schedule was set at the beginning of the term, the professors decided how often classes met. In extreme cases, an instructor might only gather with students twice in one semester, once at the beginning and once at the end, to collect their tests or whatever else was used as an assessment. Direct lecturing and teaching were subsidiary parts of the educational process in most cases. Students were expected to perform research and teach themselves and each other, while the Professor’s job was to provide assistance and direction.

Never having to take a regular class again sounded wonderful to Veil. He found the old class structures stifling. As far as he was concerned, the lower grade levels were designed to teach students the joy of obedience and submission to authority.

Veil was walking down the hallway toward the first of two classes scheduled for the first day of the week. He wondered what his fellow students would be like, feeling a small bolt of excitement run through his body at the thought. They would likely work together for several years.

Upon entering the class, the first thing Veil noticed was Sacha. She was sitting on one of the seven thinly padded wooden chairs. The seats formed a rough semicircle and were offset from a giant, thickly upholstered throne-like monstrosity of an armchair. A few spaces over, a tall, spindly male with blood-red hair and red eyes reclined. Next to him was an Islander girl with black frizzy hair and sharp features. Immediately to her right sat another small girl who possessed mousy characteristics and a small flower tattoo on one cheek.

Walking through the room, which was hardly larger than an oversized office, Veil made his way to Sacha.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Veil remarked, looking at Sacha.

“Why, Veil, aren’t you glad to see me,” Sacha replied, pouting. She had a mischievous look in her eyes. “I’m sure it’s not a coincidence. My advisor is Professor Charik. I’m guessing yours is as well.”

He felt a small feeling of delight when Sacha said his name. Usually, he didn’t use other people’s names when talking to them and didn’t particularly like it when people did that to him. With Sacha, it was different.

“Professor Charik said he chose to be my mentor,” Veil said. “Did he say the same to you?”

“No,” Sacha said, touching the pendant she always seemed to wear, “but I was too afraid to ask.”

Before they could continue the conversation, a grizzled man with dark skin, a black beard, and a hint of grey in his hair strolled into the room like a king slowly surveying his subjects. Veil wondered if this gave an indication of the Professors character, but he probably shouldn’t prejudge.

Sitting casually across from the students in the massive chair, the man announced, “I am Professor Jagan Kang. I will be your guide through the study of unstructured magic. Let’s introduce ourselves,” he said, looking to his immediate right at Veil, “then I will discuss some of the course details, and from there, we jump directly into the subject.”

Professor Kang leaned forward and handed them each a packet of information before indicating they should start the introductions. Veil and Sacha presented themselves, followed by the red-headed boy Rasvan, the mousy girl Zaida, and the sharp-featured, black girl Emelda.

Rasvan seemed like a stoic warrior type, with his deep set eyes and brooding expression. He looked like he was ready to enter a battlefield and engage in carnage. Next came the mousy girl Zaida, who looked at the others briefly and then glanced away. It was like she was hiding while introducing herself. When it was Emelda’s turn, she appeared as if she were trying to puzzle out their secrets.

So, we’ll be working with the warrior, the shy girl, and the scientist.

“Why is unstructured magic usually considered support magic?” Professor Kang asked.

“It’s very difficult to control unstructured magic without interweaving mana into your voice and directing it with your hands,” Sacha replied.

“Why?” Professor Kang asked again, looking at Sacha and then sweeping his gaze to the other students one by one. He held each of their eyes slightly longer than was comfortable. When no one answered, Kang questioned, “What is controlling and directing the mana?”

“Your soul,” Zaida said hesitantly.

“The aura is an extension of your core, your innermost energy reservoir,” Kang corrected. “The core or nucleus, in turn, is an adjunct of a person’s soul, that which we cannot detect or manipulate directly. In practice, these things are often all lumped together and called a person’s soul, the same way all magic users are lumped together and called mages, even though the title of Mage belongs to a specific group. Still, you are essentially correct. The nuclei’s energy field, the aura, controls and shapes a person’s mana. So why do mages almost always use words and gestures?”

“Because the aura is usually ‘attached to the body,’” Veil replied, “and it is incredibly difficult to get it to move independently. Giving it direction by using the mind alone is hard.”

“Yes, that is a large part of the problem,” Kang replied, nodding at Veil. There was a sharp glint in the Professor’s eyes. “There are also limitations on the mind. How many shapes and structures can the average person hold in their awareness at once? Almost everyone can learn to shape simple spell structures using their mind. The more complicated ones are beyond most mage’s reach, unless, of course, you have a divine blessing, a secondary assistance core, or a bloodline that assists in the process.”

“Enough theory,” Kang said, sitting forward closer to the edge of his chair and bringing his back fully upright. “Let’s get started on the practical side of the class. By the end of the first term, I expect you to have mastered six new amorphous spells. I will pick three of these, and each of you, subject to my approval, will pick the other three.”

Veil traded shocked glances with Sacha and the other members of the class. He looked back down at the reading list for confirmation, and yes, there were literally dozens of textbooks and articles. Not to mention that learning six unstructured spells in one semester was brutal, even by Veil’s standards. He was only required to master eight amorphous spells for the advanced exam, all based on telekinesis. Did all the classes have this kind of workload?

“The first unstructured spell I will teach is used to create ectoplasm, the ‘material’ that conjurer’s ‘summon’ to build semi-permanent objects,” Kang explained.

“For example,” Kang stopped speaking, cast a spell, and a gold-colored goblet appeared out of thin air. A few seconds later, he snapped his fingers, and the cup dissolved into multicolored smoke that vanished in turn.

Kang picked up where he left off, “What mages call telekinesis is actually a manipulation of the electric field. By twisting and knotting those fields into particular types of crystalline structures, you can produce ectoplasm. If you then tie the ectoplasm to other fields, the ectoplasmic construct can mimic other physical properties such as mass and inertia.”

“The initial patterns to create pure ectoplasm are simple enough to form using semi-stable unstructured spells.” Kang held out his hand palm up, and a weird multicolored mist appeared above his hand, flowed skyward, and vanishing after rising a short distance. “As you can see, semi-stable doesn’t mean it lasts very long.”

“You can even cheat at first and use gestures to help get started.” He held both hands out in front of him, parallel to each other, and a few centimeters apart and made a rubbing motion. Once again, the mist materialized.

Even with mana sight, Veil couldn’t follow what he had done. But Professor Kang instructed them to get started, a slight smile on his face.

Later that day, Veil arrived in his technomagic class. It had roughly the same setup as the amorphous magic class, but this time both Melik and the Feran Kuin Charik were already present. It was no surprise that Melik was in attendance. They had arranged to be in the same technomagic cohort. Once the preliminary introductions and information folder were passed out, Charik enumerated his expectations.

Without bothering to give a lecture, Charik simply instructed, “Contained within your information packet, you will find the blueprints for a simple diagnostic medical device with conditional triggers. The logic patterns making up the conditional triggers form the building blocks for designing an artificial mind, otherwise known as an animation core. You will start working on that today. The needed materials are available in the cabinet by the door.”

Veil swore the world around him was taking on a dreamlike texture. Designing conditional triggers was no simple task. He couldn’t just write some magic runes on an object and, well … get any results at all. It took solid knowledge of circuitry design magic, material science, and alchemy to do what Charik expected. Veil had only the vaguest idea of how to begin.

“I expect each of you to be able to design and build a simple animation core by the end of the academic year,” Charik continued. “In your free, time I suggest you learn to construct a simple golem chassis. We will meet here once a week, so I can gauge your progress, offer direction, and answer any questions you may have. I am also available by appointment. You may begin when you are ready.”

Veil turned to Melik and said softly, “Is every instructor here insane?”

“I can see why most people who don’t have a bloodline ability only study one or two subjects,” Melik replied. “This is too much work for anyone who isn’t a genius or doesn’t have an ability.”

“You realize that more than half of the student body are nobles with bloodlines and other advantages?” Veil stated, “And we have to compete with them.”

Melik’s eyes widened, and then his shoulders slumped. Was it wrong that Veil felt a perverse joy that his friend was suffering right along with him?

That night Ilya, Melik, and Veil gathered in the kitchen to prepare dinner. The kitchen and dining room were linked together, with only a half peninsula separating the two areas. The only furniture in the dining room was a long rectangular wooden table with a scarred surface that could comfortably seat up to eight people.

Melik was leaning against the worn gas stovetop while Veil stood to Melik’s left near the back wall, idly glancing around the kitchen. There was plenty of open counter space on both sides of Melik, and a conveniently placed sink and faucet a little to the boy’s left. The peninsula was to Melik’s right. Ilya stood directly across from Melik, gathering cooking supplies at a small table in the middle of the room. Veil was satisfied with their house. It was old but serviceable.

“You two are so lucky. I’m taking seven classes this semester,” Ilya complained while chopping vegetables. “And every semester for the next three years is like that. Filled with classes on the basic eight magical arts along with mathematics, history, and science. It’s goodbye to fun for me!”

“You think because I’m only taking two of the advanced classes that it is easier,” Melik growled. “Intermediate Conversion is harder than all the basic classes combined, and Beginning Golem Creation is even worse.”

Illya’s eyes widened at this, and he gulped. Melik was currently standing around, watching, and learning how to cook since his parents had never taught him. That was alright. Ilya and Veil planned to use him as slave labor and have him do the cleaning up afterward. Cooking with a bit of kitchen alchemy to increase energy and health was Veil’s task. He had volunteered to supervise, but both of his roommates insisted that he must perform real work.

“On the bright side, Melik, we will probably be able to make a fully functional golem within two years. While it won’t be the most advanced machine ever built, it will give us a good grounding in technomagic,” Veil remarked.

Melik looked slightly appeased at this. Ilya was still frowning, no doubt thinking about the years of hard labor ahead of him.

“By the way, I wanted to mention. It’s probably better if you two don’t go into the laboratory without me being present. If I’m already down there working, knock before you come down. It could be dangerous otherwise,” Veil said casually.

“You just don’t want us invading your evil lair and discovering your secrets,” Melik joked.

“I just don’t want you to invade my evil lair and divine my dread secrets,” Veil responded with a straight face. Melik had immediately picked up the fact that Veil wanted to keep things hidden; the boy could be surprisingly insightful at times.

Seeing that Ilya had finished chopping the vegetables, Veil grabbed a pan and placed it on the stove, preparing to cook.

“You need to oil and heat the pan before adding the ingredients,” Veil instructed Melik.

The next morning found Veil in his advanced divination class. The instructor was Irini Cosven, a tall, thin, light-skinned, black-haired woman with large oval eyes. Their classroom was similar in size and composition to the other chambers, but its windows were shrouded with dark curtains, and the technomagic lamps were muted.

The others were all third or fourth year advanced studies students, who all dressed in black muted colors like the Professor. They had most likely been working together for years, kind of like a cult.

Like the other professors, she gave out an extensive reading list. She instructed them to master twelve advanced spells and several dozen intermediate divination and support spells by the end of the term, and this was the easy part. Next semester they would need to combine these spells into diagnostic sets.

***

Veil started at Dr. Varma’s medical clinic today, but that wasn’t for a few hours. Having some free time, Veil decided to visit Sacha. A short time later, he was standing outside the girl’s dormitory. When Sacha opened the door, she took one look at Veil, made a little eek sound, and slammed it closed.

Did she know what he intended to ask her? Was she rejecting him?

Before Veil had time to do anything, Sacha opened the door a crack, so he could only see one of her eyes, and said, “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” Then closed the door again before he could reply.

Girls really don’t like being surprised, Veil thought. He would have to do that more often. He was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed opposite the entrance when Sacha returned, fifteen minutes later, and ushered him inside.

Sacha gave Veil a brief tour of the dorm room, leading him to her bedroom first.

It was more like a mini-apartment. It had three rooms! Veil thought Sacha’s room contained enough space to fit Melik and his original lodging twice over, not including the attached bathroom. Walking back across the living room, she showed Veil her roommate’s equally large living space.

After looking around for a moment, Veil inquired, “Sacha are you a noble?”

“Technically,” She replied, leading Veil back into the living area. “My adopted father is noble, but my younger brother will inherit. He is the natural-born son of both of my parents, and under Korova House rules, bloodlines are everything.”

“Your country has some strange traditions compared to the islands,” Sacha continued, idly smoothing the front of her dress. “Under Islander custom, it doesn’t matter whether you’re related by blood. It only matters that he is my adoptive father.”

“How do you feel about that?” Veil asked, looking closely at the girl.

“It’s fine with me. I enjoy being the princess without any responsibilities,” Sacha said with a smile. “Father does pay for everything, though. I guess I’m somewhat spoiled.”

Veil wisely chose not to comment and changed the subject instead, “How are your classes going? I mean besides unstructured magic.”

“The instructors here,” Sacha said, shaking her head, “want to work us to death. The other classes are similar to unstructured magic. My conjury and battle magic professors seem to assume we have complete mastery over amorphous magic. They never explain anything. The professors just give us a reading list and tell us to ask questions if we need help. Between all four teachers, they have assigned us a million books and reference articles.”

Veil tensed slightly before asking his next question, “Well, with all your free time,” Sacha rolled her eyes, “I was wondering if you would like to get together this weekend? In the evening, I could meet you here.”

“I would like that,” Sacha said, looking warmly into his eyes. She glanced briefly down and away before looking back up and asking, “What are we going to do, and where are we going? I need to know what to wear.”

Veil relaxed and said, “It’s a surprise, but you should wear something warm and comfortable.”

Veil was still buoyed up by his conversation with Sacha when he arrived at the clinic. The fact that his first date was going to be with a girl as beautiful as Sacha sent electric waves of excitement through his body. Warm confidence filled him, and he actually felt like singing. Wierd. He had never felt like singing before. Taking a deep breath, Veil settled his mind. Dr. Varma seemed like a serious woman, and he needed to focus.

Immediately upon arrival, Dr. Varma paired him with Omar, a thin, somewhat nervous man. The grey hair just starting to creep into his hair made him appear like a man in his sixties. Still relatively young.

“Omar will teach you basic diagnostic spells, how to read and write medical charts and direct your research into anatomy and physiology,” Dr. Varma said. “Don’t let the fact that Omar is a medical technician and not a doctor fool you. He knows more about most medicine and how to apply it than almost anyone else here.” Omar drew himself up at these words, clearly pleased.

“One day a week, we’ll work together for a few hours after closing, so I can advance your theoretical and practical knowledge,” Indali finished.

“Let me give you a tour of the clinic,” Omar offered.

Veil followed Omar into a waiting area where a dozen or more patients relaxed on red padded couches and matching chairs. The soothing smell of plants filling the air was supplied by planters built directly out of the wall. Once the pair crossed the room, they proceeded through a double wide entranceway into a long hall with half a dozen large wooden doors set on either side of the passage. Omar opened one of the doors showing Veil a treatment room complete with an exam table and wall mounted cabinets filled with supplies.

They arrived on the second floor to find more treatment rooms interspersed with advanced diagnostic areas. Omar led Veil to a strange glass cylindrical glass fronted tank. It could easily fit an entire human being inside.

“This is the regrowth tank,” Omar said. “It’s a piece of specialized medical equipment we use if someone is missing a limb or needs major repair over large sections of their body.”

“I’ve heard about these,” Veil said with excitement. “You can regrow limbs or even replace organs using them. Do you have more than one?”

“No,” Omar said. “They are mind-bogglingly expensive, and we’re too small of a clinic to need more. Truthfully, the only reason we have this one is that Dr. Varma donated it.”

“Is it possible to do the same work with magic and alchemy alone?” Veil inquired.

“Anything is possible,” Omar replied.

When they arrived on the third floor, Veil saw that it was roughly divided in half between an alchemy lab and offices. Veil could see the short hallway that led to Dr. Varma’s office.

“I’m told you are an alchemist?” Omar questioned. Veil nodded his response. “You’ll be spending a fair amount of time here, then. Do you know how to make Drissel’s longevity formula and Fornam’s youth restoration tonic?”

“I’ve made each many times,” Veil said while they walked around the lab.

“They are part of only a handful of commercially available potions that prolonged youth and longevity, typically by about 30 years,” Omar explained, clearly set on giving a lecture. “There are much more powerful alchemical formulas, as well as other methods, but those secrets are hoarded.”

Veil’s grandmother had developed several alchemical recipes that were more than three times as effective. As her heir, Veil was privy to that knowledge, as well. Not that he would disclose that information. She would skin him alive if he did.

“Do you remember a time before Drissel’s became commercially available?” Veil asked, absently picking up a flask off a nearby table and examining it.

“How old do you think I am?” Omar said, giving Veil a frowning look. “Although I do remember when not everyone could afford the potions. There was some rioting here and elsewhere. It’s a bitter pill to swallow if your rich neighbors can afford to have an extra 30 years of youth and health.”

“What calmed things down?” Veil asked. “I read about the riots, but the history books only mentioned that the government quickly restored order.”

“It wasn’t the government,” Omar said, leading the way out of the lab. “The Feran Kuin underwrote the cost for a few years and later developed much more efficient production methods. So now the potions are cheap, and pretty much everyone can afford them.”

Veil focused on Omar’s statement, putting the flask down and fully facing the man.

“That must have been incredibly expensive,” Veil said intently. “Why did the Feran Kuin do that?”

“I don’t know?” Omar responded slowly. He clearly noticed Veil’s change in attitude. “The Feran have a history of sponsoring health services. That’s why they’re so popular.”

How much of that altruism was based on their nature, and how much was self serving? Veil needed to know what to expect from Charik, and while species characteristics only applied loosely to individuals, they would still give him some insight.

“I guess that really changed things,” Veil said slowly, searching for what to say. “Being able to live 30 years longer seems like a big deal.”

“Those potions, along with modern guns, and freely available magic lessons, completely transformed our society,” Omar continued. “Samiirh is a lot more equal now than it ever has been before.”

“Do you think that was their intent, the Feran, I mean?” Veil asked.

Omar shook his head, studying Veil curiously as if to peer inside his head, “I don’t know? I’ve never really thought about it. You seem to be very curious about the Feran Kuin?”

“My advisor is one of the Feran,” Veil replied. “That’s sparked a lot of interest on my part. I wonder what motivates him and his people.”

Hmm, all this told him was the Feran Kuin were politically astute players. It didn’t make him feel any safer. He should probably focus on Professor Charik’s interactions with others. That would give him a better idea of the Feran’s nature.

When the clinic closed, Veil met with Dr. Varma. She had them wait until after the other employees left.

“I have a space that is more conducive to study, but I would prefer that our workmates remain ignorant of its location,” Dr. Varma said while exiting the clinic.

Veil gave her a pointed glance.

“It would be problematic if others searched the site,” She continued as they walked down the streets. “Nothing we couldn’t talk our way out of, you understand, but it would draw attention. Any sort of scrutiny would be a bad thing for us.”

She nodded politely as they approached a pair of patrolling constables. The grey uniformed lawmen were armed with pistols, clubs, and blasting rods. One of them seemed to stare suspiciously at Veil as he walked by them. Veil focused on breathing deeply and moving in a relaxed fashion.

“The best way to avoid notice is to act naturally,” Dr. Varma said after they were well past the authorities.

“Easier said than done when a single misstep could see us spending the next few decades in a mage prison with wards suppressing our powers,” Veil replied softly after glancing around.

They walked in silence until they boarded a trolley traveling several kilometers away from Dr. Varma’s workplace.

“How are your classes going?” Dr. Varma inquired while en route.

“The instructors give us incredible workloads,” Veil replied while gazing at the passing shops. “Then provide us with reading lists and tell us to get to work. There is little in the way of instruction.”

“They are forcing you to start making the transition from a student who has most information handed to them to a fully independent researcher,” Varma said, amusement glittering in her eyes.

“I know that,” Veil grumbled. “I’ve been doing research under my grandmother’s direction for years.”

“That’s the key,” Varma quipped back, deliberately bumping him with her shoulder as they sat next to each other, “under your grandmother’s direction.”

Veil huffed at her, annoyed. He noticed the farther away from the clinic they got, the more the reserved part of her personality seemed to fall away, and a mischievous side appeared.

A few moments later, they finally made it to her mysterious second location. It wasn’t an upscale enterprise like the clinic. The entire three story building was rather seedy and run down. The brick outer layer was worn and cracked, with chips of paint flaking away. Some of the windows were boarded up, and those that weren’t had bars over them, at least on the first floor.

They entered by walking down steps into a sub-level where Varma unlocked a large steel door. The laboratory was composed mostly of one large open room and included four distinct sections. Immediately to their right was the alchemical setup, with rows of cabinets lining the walls, stocked full of equipment and herbal supplies, and counters with faucets and burners set upon them. In the back of the room, still to their right, the operating theater came complete with two surgical tables, free-standing medical devices sitting around, and more supply cabinets lining the walls.

To their immediate left were rows of terrariums and small cages that contained many kinds of small animals. Food, water, and other provisions were stacked in yet more cases above the enclosures. Finally, the laboratory’s back left section was an open ritual area with invocation circles and wards permanently inscribed on the walls. The whole workroom was open and spacious, with ample room to walk and maneuver. To Veil’s eyes, it looked more like a cross between a mad scientist laboratory, a cultist’s ritual chamber, and a torture chamber crossed with an operating theater.

“Now that I have you alone, we can get started,” Indali Varma said in an evil voice before giggling.

Veil rolled his eyes at her humor, although he could get used to the laboratory. It was properly villainous.

“When we are not in professional circumstances, you should call me Indali,” Varma remarked. “Let’s begin your instruction. What exactly is foundation magic, and how is it related to soul magic?” Indali asked.

Foundation magic is the branch of soul magic that seeks to manipulate, add to, or even insert an extra core in a person’s body,” Veil replied, laying one hand over his navel and tightening it lightly. “The most common type of foundation magic involves taking material components and nuclei harvested from a suitable magical creature and processing these materials with alchemical solutions and spells.”

“How are the cores added to a patient’s body?” Indali questioned, glancing at Veil’s hand, the corners of her mouth turning up.

“Patterns are cut into key locations in the recipient’s body while performing a foundation magic ritual,” Veil said, dropping his hand. “The new core is inserted into their body at the same time. If all goes well, the recipient will then have a brand new unstructured magical skill. If the nucleus has been tied deeply enough to the person, it will form a magical lineage.”

“That is essentially correct. What happens to the added core or cores, and for that matter, what happens to the old nucleus?” Indali said, a gleam entering her eyes.

Veil blinked, “I didn’t know you could add more than one core?”

“Well, that’s one of the things you will learn,” Indali said quickly and gestured for Veil to continue.

“In most cases, a person’s primary core remains unchanged, and for lack of a better term, the new nucleus orbits the original augmenting and extending its aura and powers.” He replied, holding out one hand, making a fist, and circling the other hand around it. “I have heard, in some cases, the new core can be added in some fashion to the old core, creating new layers, but I have no idea how that is possible?”

“Creating layers is beyond my skill or knowledge,” Indali replied after sighing. “The only people I am aware of who can add layers to their nucleus are dedicated cultivators.” Indali paused and looked at him, thoughtfully. “Why is foundation magic illegal?”

“Because this type of magic can be used to steal cores from human beings instead of monsters, also because the noble houses wish to retain their relative power compared to ordinary mages,” Veil replied in an ironic voice.

“Correct on both counts,” Indali replied seriously. “Also, foundation magic can go horribly wrong if performed by anyone other than an expert, and even then, it is dangerous.”

“Although, I’ll note that virtually every major noble house has a division dedicated to developing and utilizing foundation magic rituals,” Indali continued. “As usual, there is one set of rules for the powerful and another for everyone else.”

Indali then handed him several soul magic texts and manuals.

“These manuals,” she stated, “are heavily disguised under an illusion and written in code, but even so, you should store them in a highly secure location.”

“Let’s do some practical work,” she said, glancing at the caged rodents before tilting her head down, looking up at Veil through her eyelashes, and giving him a mischievous smile.

They walked over to a grouping of terrariums containing hamsters, among other creatures. Indali rapped sharply on one of the glass cages, startling the rodent inside. It promptly disappeared. Indali then laughed and cast a quick dispelling. There was a ripple in the air where the hamster vanished, and it popped back into sight.

Hamsters with powers! Now Veil was officially impressed.

Moving over to the next enclosure, Veil saw a hamster climbing the glass front wall. As soon as he stepped near, the beady eyed creature dashed around the sides of the cage. That was impossible without some sticking power. Veil stepped up to the next terrarium with increasing excitement and saw a…nut chewing rodent?

Veil looked at Indali, whose eyes sparkled at his confusion, then whistled and tapped on the glass front. The hamster looked over at them before, with a crackling flash, lightning shot out of it, striking the cage. Veil jumped in startlement as maniacal giggling filled his ears.

Veil gave Indali a side glance as she continued laughing at his startlement. Seriously, was the woman his mentor or an adolescent girl?

Once Indali stopped laughing, she pointed to the last cage, which contained a rodent that seemed to grow and then shrink. The little monster must have been using conjury. He refused to believe it had an archmage level skill like phasing.

“Any time you want to develop a new experimental core, or try something new in general, always test it out first, or risk madness, spontaneous combustion, or death,” Indali said, no longer smiling.

Indali then showed him how to feed and care for the hamsters.

Sometime later, she stated, “We’ve done enough for today. Let’s wrap up for tonight. Your first opportunity to take part in a foundation ritual will occur within the next month or so. I will give you the details later. I understand from your grandmother that you can handle yourself in dangerous situations, so I want you to come armed.”

“Are you expecting trouble?” Veil asked.

“No, but foundation rituals are illegal, so sometimes things can get intense, perhaps even to the point of stupidity. Imagine if an irate client managed to draw a constable’s attention.”

Indali saw him to the door, but before he left, she reached up and ruffled his hair and said, “You’re so cute for a budding evil soul mage,” giggled once again and closed the door quickly.

She did not just ruffle my hair! Indali was starting to remind him more and more of his sister.

The rest of the week passed as Veil and his roommates settled in and adapted to the enormous workload each of them was under. When Saturday afternoon finally arrived, he was ready for a break and eager to spend time with Sacha. Much to Sacha’s visible disappointment and Veil’s hidden amusement, their first stop was the library.

“You brought me to the library for our first date?” Sacha complained.

“We’re on a date?” Veil said, acting surprised. Seeing Sacha’s increasing annoyance, he hastened to add, “This is just the first stop. I think you’ll like our next destination a lot more. I just wanted to drop by for a quick visit, now that we have our student identification cards.”

Sacha’s expression became engaged, and they began touring the stacks. The library was a massive, six-story building with two more basement levels. As students, they could only access four stories. The rest was restricted, either because it contained forbidden magical knowledge or because of information judged too dangerous for the public. The areas they could enter were incredible. There were hundreds of thousands of books in the library on every subject, including science, magic, history, and even romance and fiction.

Sacha stopped Veil in the romance section and pulled pink covered volume from the shelves.

Pink. Veil watched Sacha open the book and begin to read. Several minutes later, Veil was starting to get bored, but he exercised patience. He knew with girls there was a lot of waiting around. A few minutes later, Veil straightened in expectation of leaving as Sacha put the book back, but no, she just reached out and grabbed another.

Veil leaned back against the book covered shelf and gave a loud dramatic sigh. He hoped Sacha would notice and take a hint. She continued reading. Narrowing his eyes, he wondered if she was ignoring him. Veil crossed his arms and waited.

Fifteen minutes later, Sacha was still engrossed in her fourth and latest book. Not being able to take it anymore, Veil walked up to the girl, took the book, and replaced it on the shelf. Reaching out, he took her by the hand and half dragged her away. She came along willingly but threw longing looks over her shoulders until the romance section was out of sight.

A few minutes later, they just happened to be standing in the fiction section, and Veil pulled an adventure novel from the shelves. ‘Proteus and the Wyrm,’ Veil hadn’t read this one yet. It was written by one of his favorite authors. While reading, Veil absently noted Sacha move around and make sighing sounds.

Veil jolted, feeling a pinching pain in his side before Sacha rudely took the book out of his hands and put it on the shelf. He gave her an annoyed glance. Girls could be so rude. After they left one of the library’s best sections, the pair walked around, continuing their tour.

Looking through an open section in the stacks, Sacha motioned him closer and pointed through the books. Veil leaned in to get a good view, placing his hands on a lower shelf. He nearly knocked the texts free.

“Careful,” Sacha hissed quietly.

Veil finally looked through the gap and saw a plump man reading a book entitled ‘Adventures in horticulture.’ He stared for a second before looking solemnly back at Sacha. The girl was gasping slightly, clearly trying to hold back laughter. Not being able to help himself, he burst out laughing, which set Sacha off.

Grabbing his hand, she pulled him down the aisle, giggling the entire way.

“It must be a suicide attempt,” Veil said. Sacha stared back at him. “Death by boredom.”

This set the girl laughing again, and Veil couldn’t help but follow. They spent another hour running around the stacks and making sarcastic remarks about the patrons.

After leaving the library, they traveled to the city’s outskirts to a dimly lit park with exceptionally high hills. They talked as they walked to the top of the highest peak.

“What are we doing here?” Sacha inquired.

“We’re here for some amateur astronomy,” Veil replied. “You can see the double full moon. Chandi and Banu are only separated by a small angle making a lovely light.”

Veil pointed midway between the larger silvery colored sphere, Banu, and the smaller redder sphere Chandi. On the way up, Veil noticed how Sacha’s hand had kept bumping his, and as she turned to look at Chandi, her breast ‘accidentally’ brushed his arm. As they continued, Veil reached out and put his hand on the small of her back and guided her up the rise.

At the top, they stopped and talked astronomy for a few moments before Veil turned toward Sacha and gently placed his hands on her waist. Sacha kept glancing at his lips, and he could tell that she wanted him to kiss her. He slowly leaned forward and awkwardly brushed his lips against hers, tentative at first. Sacha was the first girl he ever kissed. Even though Veil read books about tantra, sex, and romance, reality was different than theory.

Sacha’s arms remained down by her side at first. At the same time as Veil started to figure out this kissing business, she slowly lifted her arms first up above his elbows, then to his shoulders, and then firmly placed her arms around his neck. They kept kissing for some interminable length of time. Sacha had some experience, but Veil was still figuring out what to do with his tongue.

Eventually, they broke apart. Even though he felt good, Veil started to apologize for not doing a better job, but the look in Sacha’s eyes stopped him. She stared at him intensely for a moment before leaning forward and kissing him again. The rest of their date passed in a dazed dreamlike blur for Veil. He vaguely remembered dropping Sacha off at her dormitory and kissing her goodnight, but he couldn’t have explained what happened in between or how they had gotten there.

***

A few weeks later, Veil got up to do his morning meditation. He was currently cross-legged with a straight back and half open eyes, sitting on a small section of the carpeted floor. Turning the full power of his concentration inwards, he engaged Hyper-Focus. His awareness of the mana saturating the air, ground, and all other objects around him blossomed. Veil was grateful Medina sat at the locus of several ley lines, giving it extraordinarily high energy density and aiding his task.

With every in-breath, Veil’s silvery aura contracted, drawing in energy and compacting it into his bones and core, making them glow brighter and feel more concentrated. At every out-breath, his aura expanded, flowing out through muscles, organs, and even the pores of his body to trap ambient mana in the air and ground and start the cycle over. In his mind’s eye, the silver-colored energy reservoir was getting denser and brighter over time.

After completing his Ki Kung meditation, he concentrated inward, focusing all senses on his dantian and bones. As his mind settled, he felt energy and movement, and an image formed in his third eye. Veil saw and felt his mana, which had a silvery color with the consistency of liquid silk.

Hmm. His reserves started out at 34, so they should top out at close to 200. This was not ideal. What if he was in a fight and ran out of mana, becoming temporarily powerless. That could easily get him killed. He also wanted to cast high end transformation spells and certain other types of magic, but those were out of reach as well.

Of course, his mana reserves recharged over time, but that took almost a third of a day. Drawing on ambient mana was too slow in a fight or during spell casting. He needed to quickly push his reservoir as high as possible and then find ways to augment his natural limit.

The only thing he could do for now was focus on Ki Kung. That would increase the density of his core and bones until they eventually reach the liquid crystal state. As Veil’s core energy became denser, his mana reserves would gradually increase.

***

It wasn’t until late that night that Veil found the time to leave for Brazzen’s Imports. His grandmother’s contact provided his primary source of income at present. The streets were practically deserted this late at night, with only a few people still venturing out. It was lucky that Ivan worked so late, or perhaps luck had nothing to do with it. Late night was probably the perfect time for Ivan to engage with his less than law abiding colleagues.

A few streets short of Ivan’s store, Veil spotted a construction barrier set up around a manhole. Why did that weird sulfur smell seem familiar? It was the same as the smell coming from the men on the train, the ones who nearly picked a fight with him. Maybe he would take a quick look.

Hesitating a moment, Veil walked up to the sewer entrance. There was a soft glow emanating from below, but not enough to see. He should walk away, but there was something else there, on the edge of his mind, almost like a call. It was his psychic senses.

I should really just leave.

But the psychic call was nonthreatening, and he was curious. Not seeing anyone nearby, Veil cast a light spell. Taking out his blasting rod, he descended the ladder attached to the lower part of the manhole. Once he was down on the sewer floor, he could make out a strange machine resting on the ground a few meters away.

Walking closer, Veil saw it wasn’t sitting on the ground but rose out of a neatly bored perfectly circular hole about a man’s length in diameter. The machine had a dull grey color and was shaped vaguely like a snake’s head. One side had black runes that were swiftly changing as he watched.

Hesitantly, Veil reached out and touched the odd device. As soon as his hand made contact with the surface, a soundless, painless explosion seemed to occur and stunned Veil. His light went out, and he reeled back, falling to the floor in complete darkness. Veil wasn’t sure how long he sat there dazed, but after a few moments, light and men’s voices could be heard coming down the tunnel.

Realizing how monumentally stupid he had been, Veil quickly scrambled back up the ladder. Before leaving, he looked down and saw four or five men surrounded by a pool of light.

Whatever was going on down there, Veil wanted no part of it. Quickly moving away, he stopped at the corner of a shop. He looked around the building’s edge and remained hidden while observing the manhole. No one exited. Walking away at a rapid clip for several blocks with his psychic senses fully stretched out, he still didn’t see any pursuit.

After a half kilometer, he stopped and ducked into a nearby alcove. Directing his concentration inward, he checked himself for injury. Just to be sure, Veil also cast several medical diagnosis spells on himself, but everything seemed to be okay.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he continued to Brazzen’s Imports. When Veil entered the store, Ivan looked up, grunted, and indicated upstairs.

Once they were sitting across from each other, Ivan immediately demanded, “Can you make an invisibility potion?”

If Ivan didn’t see the need for pleasantries, then neither did Veil, “Have you made any headway on that list I gave you?”

Ivan grunted again and scratched his beard, “It will take time to find the items you’re looking for, but I’m working on it.” Ivan stared at him expectantly.

“What ranking of potion do you want?” Veil asked, leaning back in his chair. “I can make some of the lower grades, that grant invisibility for a few minutes, as long as you are motionless or moving slowly. If you’re looking for a higher level, you’ll need to supply the recipe.”

“So, you can make a higher grade if you have the formula?” Ivan returned, leaning forward, his eyes glittering brightly. “You’re sure you can make a high-level potion?” Ivan reiterated quickly.

“Yes,” Veil said simply.

“Those recipes are worth a great deal of money,” Ivan pointed out. “Would you be willing to make ten potions in exchange for the formula?”

“I would be willing to make seven potions at cost.” Veil countered. “That’s a good price, considering this is at your request,” Veil’s lips set in a firm line when he saw that Ivan meant negotiate.

“Very well,” Ivan grunted.

They worked out an agreement after Veil brought out the other elixirs. He left a few minutes later, having gotten enough of Ivan’s company for one evening.

Veil was walking down a side street when he paused. Something was bothering him. Looking around, he didn’t see anything out of place. Something was tickling the edge of his mind, so he pushed outward with his psychic senses.

He didn’t have much control over his mental power’s external form, but he could accomplish a few things. Make telepathic contact, pick up strong emotions, influence animals, throw a mind spike – a crude telepathic attack – and he could detect and very roughly locate anything in his immediate vicinity that had a sophisticated mind. What he was picking up was murderous intent, and it was directed at him.

Reacting immediately as Grandmother had trained, Veil instantly threw up his most powerful full-body shield using the shielding bracelet on his left wrist. At the same time, he attempted to draw his blasting rod. He was too late. Two bullets impacted his barrier, one from behind and one from an alley a little ahead and to the left. The rounds caused cracks to slither across his shield, which was immediately repaired. They were using mage killing bullets!

Veil jumped to the left and swept a bright, loud, white plasma beam at his attacker in the alley. The man tried to duck and had some sort of shield up to boot, but the beam cut right through it and him. Both the blasting rod and the bracelet were marvels of technomagic engineering bought for him by his grandmother at great expense. The bracelet could generate six different shield configurations, which would regenerate automatically as long as mana was supplied.

The blasting rod was likewise capable of producing a variety of different attacks, and both were synced with each other so he could fire right through the bracelet’s shield. But they both consumed mana and the way he was using them a lot of it.

Still moving, Veil felt more than heard three more bullets go whizzing by.

There was another attacker in the alley. He continued to run for the cover between two buildings and swept his plasma beam across an alley, narrowly clipping the second man. That left three behind him, who all shot once again. At the same time, Veil fired wildly behind him and continued to blast away as he dodged forwards. All three missed, their aim spoiled by the bright light of the beam and his quick but erratic motion as he had intended.

Veil finally reach cover, but there was nowhere to go. The buildings touched each other, forming a wide but shallow alcove. The attackers kept advancing quickly down the street, firing while they moved forward to keep Veil trapped in place.

He immediately dropped to the ground, stuck his head and arm a few inches past the wall, and swept the beam across one of the attackers, the other two dove out of the way. That was three out of five out of the fight, but he was running out of mana. He didn’t have enough for another beam attack.

The last two men were still cautiously moving toward him. Unbelievable, even trained soldiers would have retreated by this point. Veil engaged Focused Concentration, gathered his mana, and drove a mind spike into each of his attackers in quick succession. Lucky for him, neither had psychic defenses. Both went down.

Veil stretched out his senses. The attacker he winged earlier was in great pain and out of commission. No other hostile mind was near. Quickly running up to the two physically unwounded men, Veil recognized them from the construction site. Lying next to one of them was a divination compass, which Veil picked up. The compass was filled with dials and looked incredibly complicated, but he understood one thing. It was tracking him. Somehow, they knew he interacted with their machine, and they decided to kill him.

The two men were stirring, and Veil had to make a decision. He stabbed them both in the heart. At a slightly more measured pace, Veil walked up to the injured man who was lying against a wall, holding the stump of his burned and bleeding arm. Veil placed the tip of his blasting rod against the last surviving man’s head. He tried to make telepathic contact, but this man had rudimentary defenses sufficient to defeat that.

“Who are you, and why did you attack me?” Veil demanded.

The man clenched his teeth and glared back. All Veil could pick up with his psychic senses was animosity.

“Did Ivan Seng send you?” Veil tried. This time, he sensed confusion. “I will only ask one more time,” Veil stated, staring into the man’s eyes. “Why did you attack me? Who sent you?”

The man continued to glare. Veil waited several seconds, then still looking into the man’s eyes, he sent a low powered force bolt through the rod, blowing a small hole in the man’s head.

Quickly searching his attackers produced only loose change and their weapons. Veil pocketed several of the guns along with the compass and left the area in haste. Explaining his reasons for cold-bloodedly killing three men after they stopped posing an immediate danger could prove awkward. Law enforcement interrogation tactics in this sort of situation were sure to involve truth serum.