Altair headed towards this main plaza which was squeezed between various lecture buildings, the library and the Great Hall which served as one of the main landmarks and even as a tourist attraction with its intricate architecture dating back a thousand years, according to legend. The campus was a ghost town, and he was thankful to not bump into any familiar faces. He did get stopped on the way by some sightseers asking for directions, and Alt was surprised at the respect and deference in their voice after learning he was an incoming freshman.

They must have assumed I was a nobleman. Little do they know, he thought, finding the difference in treatment so ironic.

The fountain was a complex made out of marble, consisting out of a set of pools of different levels, with a central body of water in the middle, adorned by vases, and exquisite statues of famous Levantian statesmen, with ornate columns framing the sides.

Alt found a spot under the shade where he would be relatively safe from prying eyes of the rare passers-by and sat down, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He attempted to replicate the steps and sensations from the previous day and feel what lay beyond the raw power of the water stream with his mind's eye. At first, he was afraid it would be a futile effort, especially since he was a total novice who never tried sensing water mana nor any element other than fire before. As his concentration deepened, he tried to imagine the ethereal particles emanating from the current as separate entities from the droplets. To his surprise, after he stopped to force things and let his imagination go, the particles continued floating in his mind's eye, with a soft celestial color giving them a mystical appearance.

Wow, it is actually working! Altair thought, endlessly pleased with himself. Next, he tried to bring the particles to his now empty mana core, focusing on a singular one at a time. He tugged and tugged at a particle with his mind, beginning to frown and sweat from the mental effort. No matter how much he pulled, it was if he was fighting gravity. A mysterious, indominable force kept taking the tiny specks away into the abyss, leading them to vanish entirely from view and his senses.

Argh, this is so frustrating. What's the deal with the mana disappearing, anyways?

There was one additional angle of attack he wanted to try. He resumed the observation of the mana particles flowing from the various jets, and realized that their size varied significantly, with ever-so-often miniscule particles coming out particularly from the jets with smaller intensity.

Perhaps if I focus on a smaller one, I may be able to affect it...

He tested his hypothesis and was thrilled to find the particle slowly levitating towards him at a turtle's pace, finally ending up inside his core. Carefully, he guided it to the single mana channel that he had developed from the last session. As soon as the particle reached the mana channel's boundaries, his body jerked abruptly, with the particle dissipating and sending him into a coughing fit.

Dammit, Altair cursed internally, after clearing his throat. What happened there?

He replicated the experiment, after finding an even smaller particle to play with. This time, the shock was more bearable, but he still lost control as soon as the particle interacted with the mana channel.

Why is it reacting like that? It's like it's incompatible or something.

He smacked himself on the head at that thought.

Of course it's incompatible! I was trying to bring water mana into a fire channel. In his enthusiasm about his newfound ability to exert influence over the mana particles, he had completely forgotten the witch's warnings about each mana vein only being able to support the type of mana it was originally carved from.

Coming to this conclusion, he repeated the process, aiming to send the particle to a different location inside his core, on the opposite side from his fire mana channel. Unlike the previous day however, he could not maintain a big enough pile of water mana particles inside his core to begin building the channel. As soon as he would shift his attention towards bringing new particles in, whatever he had gathered so far in the core's perimeter had completely dissipated, instead of floating in a circular fashion around his nucleus like what happened after his core's activation.

This is quite inefficient, he considered, now trying to split his focus between keeping the particle he had lured in intact and attracting another small one.

At this rate, it will take me years to build a second mana channel. No wonder there are no mages in my world.

Unbeknownst to him, attempting to build his mana pool under such strenuous conditions was an advanced exercise that few practitioners in the Arcane Arcalis even attempted.

Altair kept at it for another couple of hours, letting go of the puny catch he had accumulated. As a testament of his efforts however, he had been rewarded with a small, now-empty dot with a celestial contour in his core which he suspected was the founding point of a new mana channel.

Maybe this wasn't a complete waste of time after all.

His visualization abilities had also improved, with him now boasting a better understanding of his core's inner workings, even though there wasn't much to look at yet.

I wonder if it is also possible to see mana with my eyes open?

He stared intently at the main fountain, trying to imagine the particles flowing. Finally, when his eyes began straining, he called it a day, making a note to get the witch's input on this idea.

Perhaps my concentration is not strong enough yet.

He checked his phone, seeing that lunch time had almost passed. Not hearing anything else from Ronel so far, he decided to give her a call, with him being sent to voice mail after three rings. That was out-of-character for her, so he decided to go check up on the petite girl in person. He headed towards the girls’ dorms complex, which he had only seen from afar before, located across the main lecture hall. Like the boys’ dorms, they were split into three distinct buildings, that he assumed were distinguished by the quality of their interior and furnishings. He didn't actually know in which one she was staying, but he thought it was safe to dismiss the economy-class one outright. He stood between the other two buildings for a while, hoping to see somebody going in or out that he could ask about his friend's whereabouts. Getting impatient, he dialed her again with no response.

Shit, what if those idiots from yesterday did something to her? Alt thought, his heart sinking. He remembered the lecherous looks the boys were showering her with and began imagining the worst, knowing the depravity that humanity was capable of.

Before he fully realized what he was doing, he shouted:

"Ronel!!!"

He filled his lungs and repeated the call, this time even louder, leading to a few curious silhouettes appearing from the windows.

Alt felt his ears turn red, noticing a girl pointing her finger at him and throwing him a weird look. Still, if his friend was in trouble, making a fool out of himself was a small price to pay.

After shouting for a final time, he heard the main door of the middle building buzzing and unlocking. Seeing that nobody was coming out, he took it as an invitation to enter. Altair thanked the heavens that it was the break, or it would have been a nightmare trying to explain to the gatekeeper what he was doing there in the first place. The lobby was empty, and he considered whether to take the elevator versus the stairs, as he still had no idea where Ronel lived. He decided to go on to the next floor, since there was nobody around to ask for directions. Although most apartments were empty, he could tell which ones were actually inhabited by the presence of a doormat although that didn't guarantee that the residents hadn't left on the summer break. As Alt was gathering the courage to knock on a door that had signs of life and was decorated by purple ribbons that he knew were Ronel's favorite color, he saw it budge, with a sleepy girl, still in her pajamas with puffy emerald eyes emerging.

Alt's first reaction as part of their usual witty banter was to make a joke about her crying herself to sleep, but he managed to hold his tongue.

"What were you doing out there? It's embarrassing...," she uttered, averting his gaze.

"You weren't picking up, and I was getting worried," Alt said earnestly.

"What is it to you anyways?" she forcibly asked. "It's not like we are particularly close."

Ouch. That felt worse than Kamar's sucker punch did.

"You are right... sorry, I should have minded my business... I hope you feel better," Alt said, fighting to keep the bitterness from creeping into his tone. "Have a good day," he told her, turning around to leave. To his surprise, he felt a tug on the back of his t-shirt slowing him down.

"Huh?" he uttered, glancing back. He found Ronel's arm extending towards him, with her eyes looking guiltily into the ground.

"Don't go...," she whispered. He wasn't sure if he heard her correctly, but her expression told him to stay.

"Come on in... we don't want to make any more of a scene," she ushered him in.

Alt followed her reluctantly inside, surprised at the turn of events, and getting mentally ready for a staring contest with her roommate, who wasn't his biggest fan. The teen boy sighed in relief at seeing that the second bedroom in her apartment appeared to be vacated. The living room was in disarray, with clothes lying around haphazardly and with comfort food packaging not being disposed of.

They stepped into her bedroom, which was significantly more spacious than his own. There was a queen-sized bed, unlike his spartan single one, a luxurious office chair, a leather couch and a large closet, with a chandelier in the center. There was also a make-up stand with a fancy antique mirror, and the room looked like it came out of a décor magazine, with the purple and white colors complimenting each other.

Must be nice to be rich! he mused, taken in by the atmosphere.

Oh shit, it’s just me and her, alone in her bedroom... he realized, his heart skipping a beat. No, get your head out of the gutter!

"Why are you all red?" Ronel said, finally taking a good look at him.

"Uh... ah... I caught a cold and am running a fever, I think...," he mumbled, wiping the sweat forming on his forehead.

"But it's summer?" the petite girl asked.

"Yeah, I know... weird right?" he continued the ruse, with a disarming innocent look.

She must be really distracted, usually she would see right through me...

Ronel gave him a semblance of a mischievous smile, and slowly, they started laughing together, Altair still too embarrassed to return her gaze.

I guess she still does...

"Thank you for coming to see me... and I am sorry I was an ass to you earlier," she said.

Altair was surprised at getting an apology.

"It's alright... we all can have bad days," the teen boy reassured her, reaching out and daring to pat her on the head.

"If only it was just one single bad day," she commented in a robotic tone, not protesting the gesture.

"What happened? You can tell me, you know," Alt said. "It's not good to let your emotions bottle up inside... trust me, I know."

She looked at him hesitantly.

"I know you have a lot going on yourself," she said. "You will just find this stupid."

"Hey, let me be the judge of that," he replied, taking her arm. "And if it's important to you, I won't find it stupid," he said, wondering how he was able to keep a straight face while saying such lines straight from a cringy romance novel.

Ronel freed herself from his grip and plopped down on the bed. The teen boy instead chose the chair by the office desk, wanting to keep a safe distance, eliciting another small laugh from her with his choice and his clear discomfort.

"I am getting married," she said with an unreadable expression while staring at the ceiling.

"Huh?" Alt blurted out, jumping from the chair, everything in him betraying his indignation and surprise.

Huh? Huh?! Huh?!?!? What the heck? Is this a joke?! That would be too cruel of a prank, even for her.

Before he could utter a coherent thought, she continued:

"It's an arranged marriage."

That piece of information both lifted a weight from Alt's shoulders but added another, bigger hurdle in front of him. It seemed that Ronel was anything but thrilled at the prospect, so it must mean she had no choice in the matter.

"But you're just fifteen!" he said, still recovering from the shock.

"Tell that to my mother," she replied bitterly. "According to her, it's the perfect age to set me up for life by selling me off to be with a scion of some respectable, established noble family. It's just the engagement for now, but we are supposed to marry after I graduate. Maybe if I drop out, they'll have no use for me anymore... "

"Who is he?" Alt managed to say, his voice breaking.

"Does it even matter? He is the son of some Count my dad worked under. My mother even sent me pictures, do you want to take a look at that too?" she replied, getting agitated.

"No, I don't," Alt said, hoping she would get the why. "I am sorry you are going through this." Gulping, he walked the few feet separating them that on one hand felt like overcoming an ocean but at the same time were crossed way too quickly, and sat down, tentatively caressing her back, and growing like a tomato again after realizing she wasn't wearing a bra.

"If you would like... we can do it," Ronel sheepishly said after a long pause. "I would like my first time to be my own choice, and not decided by mother. They can't take even that away from me... "

"Wha... what?!" Alt's jawed dropped to the floor for the second time in the last couple of minutes. "WHAT!?" he blurted out so loudly she had to shoosh him with her palm on his lips, sending him into a further frenzy from the physical touch.

"You... I...," he managed to mutter, as she looked at him with empty eyes.

"Yes, you... I," she repeated after him.

"I mean, where did that come from?" he said, burying his face in his hands.

"So, you don't want to?" she asked softly, raising her eyebrow.

"It's not that! Of course, I... Argh!!!" Alt was pulling his head and bit his lip to get his emotions under control before he did something he would enjoy in the moment but sensed he would regret later.

"Just not like this," he said, managing to finally look her in the eyes. "I want it to really be your choice."

He could swear he saw a hint of a smile on her face, before it was replaced with a scandalous expression.

"Oh little bro... don't tell me you were seriously considering doing this? Having your way with your big sister?! You pervert... " She looked at him with puppy eyes, feigning embarrassment and prudery.

"Dammit, you are impossible! You're like three months older than me and we are not related in any way!" Altair stood up, stomping outside her room, while actually wanting to jump out of the window instead. "Don't come crying to me next time!"

I can just never get used to her antics. His heart was still about to jump out of his chest, when he felt a pair of soft arms envelop him from the back, with her head leaning in against his neck, making his hairs stand up.

"Thank you... for being here for me... and for not taking advantage of me...," she whispered, blowing softly in his ear, sending his blood running again to all the wrong places.

"Don't sweat it!" he said nervously, freeing himself from her embrace. "Sorry, I have an emergency, I have to go!" He was determined to escape before his brain fried for good from all the ups and downs.

Where was the witch's summoning when he most needed it...