With a soft sigh of relief, I passed through the warded entrance to the training hall and let the outer layers of my defensive spells fade away. The unpleasant weight I’d been feeling faded almost immediately as the constant strain on my mana eased. I typically didn’t bother with such heavy active barriers and illusion spells, but I’d decided that right now, they were well worth the discomfort I would be feeling tonight.

Still, there was no reason to burn mana when it wasn’t needed. It was still early in the afternoon, and I was already nearly two thirds of the way through my reserves. Unlike in the hallways, here I was protected by the rules of Avalon, so I only kept up the protective spells that were either too much of a pain to recast or didn’t use mana to maintain themselves. Even if I hadn’t, if the person I was meeting wanted to hurt me, I doubted my spells would even slow him down.

I watched with interest, and not a touch of awed jealousy, as Liam danced around his opponent’s spells, the combination of some sort of powerful haste spell, a small shield bubble around one hand, and an occasional effortlessly cast counter letting him remain untouched as a hail of spells rained down around him.

It was even more impressive when I finally realized who, or rather what, his opponent was. The figure was hazy and flickered occasionally, but it was clearly Liam as well, or rather a copy of him. Some sort of simulacrum then, and a powerful version of the spell judging from how quickly it moved and the ease with which it could weave together spells of its own. That was eighth circle magic, something from Avalon’s point-restricted repositories I imagined.

I set my bag down and stayed by the doorway, keeping a wary eye on the deflected combat spells flying wildly through the air. It was impressive to watch, and I did my best to commit everything to memory. I didn’t try to interrupt, I was almost ten minutes early and Liam seemed razor-focused on his practice. I was already planning to ask for a favor, there was no reason to interrupt his practice beforehand.

Still, it was rather daunting to see what he was capable of. I knew Liam was a talented mage, I’d even caught the tail end of a duel he’d fought when I was a first year and it had been really something, but seeing the capabilities of a seventh year student first-hand was… daunting.

He blazed in my mana sight, a rapidly moving furnace tossing about spells and counters that would have drained my core dry with impunity. It seemed impossible that I would be able to progress that far in just four more years, but it had been explained last year that spells got cheaper to cast the denser your mana became. Liam’s mana pool was probably still much larger than mine, four or five times at the least, but it wasn’t exponentially larger like it looked like it was.

Focused as I was on the fight, I noticed immediately when the simulacrum began to cast a higher-circle spell. Great torrents of mana flowed out of it, making the clone’s body flickering more pronounced, and it wove them into an incomprehensible complex many-dimensional sphere over its head. Even as it did so, it continued to fire a volley of suppressive spells towards Liam himself, mostly second and third circle force spells intermixed with small bolts of lightning and jets of high pressure water.

Liam himself did not seem to be overly concerned, continuing to avoid his copy’s attacks with the same practiced ease as before. It was only when the spell his copy was casting was almost complete that he finally made his move. A tightly compressed line of pure magic shot out of his off-hand and punched into the unfinished spell. The simulacrum tried to dodge, shielding itself with a triple-layered barrier of iridescent gold, but the line curved after it.

The spell destabilized in an instant, mana exploding outward for a handful of feet before slamming back inward into the simulacrum. The room shook slightly and I reflexively shielded my eyes as a tiny star blazed for a single moment before collapsing into nothing. By the time I opened my eyes, the simulacrum was gone without a trace.

I swallowed heavily, watching the ambient mana in the room continue to ripple in the wake of the spell’s backlash. I’d seen low-circle spells destabilize a few times, and it tended to be rather gruesome. That on the other hand… It looked more like an explosion than any sort of backlash. I had no idea what that line had been, regular pure mana manipulation should not have disrupted a spell like that, but it seemed like a rather terrifying ability. Something he had developed himself maybe? Or possibly another high-circle technique that wasn’t openly available.

Avalon was pretty serious about giving its students free access to a massive amount of magical research and literature, but even it had its limits. There were parts of the library that were only accessible to people willing to put in the time and effort to earn the right to view them. This was another part of the point system the academy and its graduates made use of, and most eighth circle and above spells were locked away behind that barrier. It was one of the things that incentivized students and alumni alike to give powerful techniques to Avalon. Nothing got a mage feeling generous like the promise of powerful spells and techniques.

I was rather curious what Liam had done to get that many points, if that was where he’d gotten those spells from in the first place. It was entirely possible they were something he’d traded another mage for or learned from a family member. I was pretty sure Liam was from a mage lineage of some sort, even if I’d never had a chance to look deeper into it.

Putting my musings aside, I stepped forward to meet Liam as he began to walk towards me. “Hey there Orion,” he called out, pausing by a table pushed up against the wall. Reaching into his own bag, he pulled out a bottle and took a long drink, then wiped his mouth and face with a casually conjured towel. He rapidly cast a few more spells, sweat vanishing from his skin and his clothes drying out and straightening in moments. That looked like a very handy sequence of spells, I would have to look into those.

He took another drink, then waved me over as he sat down heavily in one of the wooden chairs provided in Academy training halls. He exhaled loudly as I sat down, “Phew, practice like that still wipes me out some days,” he said casually. “Still, very satisfying and effective. What did you think?”

“It was very impressive. Hopefully I’ll be able to do the same someday.”

“Oh, you’ll get there. Give it a few years and we’ll see!” I smiled at that. He seemed rather earnest, and the encouragement was welcome. “Anyway, enough about that. I understand you wanted to meet with me about something?”

I nodded. “Yes, thank you for making some time today. I hope I’m not pulling you away from anything important?”

He waved my concerns aside, “Just more practice, really. It’s nice to take a bit of a break anyway, catch my breath and let my mana regenerate a tad.”

“Of course. So I was hoping–”

“Let me guess,” he interrupted, “Something to do with the fight I heard about yesterday? Impressive work on that by the way, I haven’t seen a memory of it but I’ve heard a few retellings. Fighting up a year is always a challenge, and people say she wasn’t any sort of a pushover.”

“Um, yes, thank you. It is about the fight, or well, the person I was fighting I guess.” I paused, not quite sure how I wanted to phrase my request. Before I could continue, Liam interrupted me again.

“If you’re trying to pass her to me, I won’t take her. I’m sure she’s an impressive specimen, but there is just too much risk for me. I don’t want anyone to accuse me of targeting down to many years. The accusations probably wouldn’t stick, but it's not the sort of thing I’m interested in fighting against. The headmaster tends to be a ‘smite first, ask questions later’ sort of person. And in any case, I don’t think that would take any heat off you anyway.”

I shook my head, “That’s not it, no, though I’ll keep that in mind for the future. I… I was hoping you could help me set up a meeting with Clarient. I don’t want to seek her out myself and it feels like too much of a risk to ask one of my yearmates, but I don’t know too many others that could do it. I’m willing to trade the girl back for an oath of nonaggression, but…”

“You want a chance to make her hear you out, I get it.” He nodded his head slowly and clicked his tongue. “Yeah, that's not a bad plan. Clarient’s the wrathful sort, but she’s pretty reasonable from what I’ve heard. She spars with Jack once in a while, I could ask him to pass a message.”

“That would be appreciated. What would it cost me for you to attend as the oath-binder? Well, if things work out, I mean.”

He blinked. “I could do that, no problems. No skin off my back. Let's call it… a small favor, some time in the future. Nothing serious. I’ll help you get a meeting and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

I frowned slightly, a favor was not ideal but there wasn’t much else I could offer to be honest. This was about what I’d been hoping for. “That would work for me. Do you want an oath or–”

“I’ll take you at your word.” Even better. I did much like the idea of swearing any sort of oath, not after seeing first hand what that sort of magic could do to a person.

“I appreciate it.”

He sat up straighter, then leaned towards me. “Well then, with that out of the way, let's figure out the details. So, what exactly do you want me to pass along?”

The door creaked open slowly, the bustle of the hallway outside spilling into the empty classroom. Daphne Warbringer looked up from her book to see the unmistakable figure of Leana Sweetglass slip through the small gap and fall heavily into the first chair she saw. The blonde slumped forward bonelessly, her hair falling in front of her face in a shimmering silver curtain. She let out a long breath and began to mutter under her breath.

Daphne wasn’t quite able to make out what exactly she was saying, but the individual rude words and occasional hissed names were enough to piece things together. It seemed that, even though on paper the two were still officially ‘together’, the merchant girl was not happy with her lover. Daphne was actually quite curious what was going on there. She knew they’d had something of an argument and Leana hadn’t come to Lightcastle for over a week in the wake of it. She also had heard the rumors that a few of her… less bright classmates had decided to teach the ‘uppity merchant slut’ a lesson. From the fact that several of them were still in the Academy’s healing hall, she assumed that hadn’t gone particularly well for them.

Still, she hadn’t yet caught up with all the rumors about what had happened exactly. The Earthshadows had come down like a ton of bricks on several minor noble families, but Leana looked mostly fine after just a few hours with the healers. In fact, she had looked better than fine, an almost visible aura of joyful energy about her when Daphne had seen her in class yesterday. Right now though? She just looked… tired.

Daphne turned back to her book, weighing her options. She didn’t much feel like talking right now, there was a reason she was here in a dark and empty classroom instead of back home in her well-appointed study, and it seemed like the older girl hadn’t noticed her yet. Maybe she could just… wait her out? She was sitting in the deep shadows at the back of the room, her book positioned in the single ray of light falling through the shuttered window. If she was lucky…

Leana sighed loudly and sat up, sweeping her long hair back with a well practiced gesture. Then her eyes widened and she blushed brightly as she finally noticed Daphne’s presence. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize there was anyone in here,” she blurted out awkwardly. “You’re, uh,” she leaned forward, squinting slightly through the darkness, “Heiress Warbringer? I didn’t mean to intrude”

Daphne rolled her eyes and set her book back down. Of course it couldn’t be that easy. “Sweetglasss,” she bowed her head politely for a moment. The merchant girl was of a lower class but was still her senior at Lightcastle. “It’s no trouble, I was just getting in some… last minute reading before the weekend.”

“Oh, that's good. Sorry.” She awkwardly looked away, glancing towards the cracked-open door, “Something interesting?”

“Not particularly.” Daphne pretended to focus on her book, hoping the flustered girl would take the hint, but it seemed that was too much to hope for once again.

“Oh? A textbook?”

“Something like that.”

“For what class. You’re studying… warding and runes?”

“Pyromancy,” Daphne corrected, “with a minor focus in light based invocation.”

“Oh. Then why–”

“Runic inscriptions was a prerequisite for one of my core classes,” Daphne said, hopefully anticipating the girl’s question.

Leana closed her mouth and fell silent again, but it didn’t last. “So what class are you studying for now?”

Daphne suppressed a sigh. “Nothing specific, just some general reading,” after a moment, she scoffed and added, “It's not like we’re learning anything particularly challenging. I swear, if I have to hear Spellsteward tell me to ‘slow down and stop practicing outside of class’ again, I’ll strangle him with his own-” Daphne cut herself off mid sentence, realizing she was letting her building frustration leak into her words. She bit the inside of her cheek hard, if she wanted to, the Sweetglass girl could use those words to cause her quite a bit of trouble.

She closed her eyes, expecting a reprimand if nothing else. In her experience, older students tended to be rather… overbearing and conceited the few times she’d complained about the pace she was being taught at. ‘These things take time’ they would tell her, or ‘Your instructors know better than you do’. She agreed that Instructor Spellsteward was absolutely a better mage than she was, but he was also nearing a century in age and was horrendously set in his ways. In his eyes, the school’s curriculum was actually too fast, and he constantly complained how modern safety features made students overly eager to learn new spells.

Instead of any of that though, Leana began to laugh. She had a very lovely voice, Daphne noted idly as she looked back towards the older girl, who was doubled over and clutching at the table in front of her in support. “Oh that was perfect,” she choked out between peals of laughter, “You sound just like him, oh lord, that was amazing!”

Daphne blushed, realizing she’d used the mocking imitation of her teacher’s voice that she typically only indulged in when in the safety of her own home.

It took the older girl almost a full minute to regain control of herself, at which point she repeated her earlier question. “So if it's not for class, what’s it for?”

“Just some… general reading. The Headmaster’s speech got me interested in what was going on with the portal so I’m reading about that Avalon place he was talking about.” She shuddered slightly, “It's pretty horrible, I can see why he told us to be so careful.”

Daphne was surprised to see a look of confusion on Leana’s face, “What are you talking about? What speech?” Oh, right. She hadn’t been at school in the week leading up to the full-school assembly, so she had probably missed it entirely. That was… probably bad, right? Those had been important warnings, and despite their differences, Daphne didn’t want to see the older girl get involved with any of the horrors she’d spent the past hours reading about.

“I forgot you weren’t there. Um, we had a full school assembly a few days ago with Headmaster Lightbarer. He had some pretty serious warnings about it, I can give you the rundown if you want?”

She looked surprised for a moment, then smiled brightly. “That would be very kind of you. I think I’ve heard a few people talking about it, but… I’ve been avoiding listening to rumors.”

Daphne couldn’t blame her for that. Quite a few of them were about her right now, after all. “Sure, it's no trouble. So basically, that trade portal everyone’s been taking about, the one in the central square? It's actually to the entrance to this big pocket dimension school thing called Avalon, and those guys are nasty…”

Leana listened to the explanation in silence, nodding along when it was appropriate but otherwise not reacting to her words. It was only once she began to list out some of the examples she’d read about in her book, apparently one of their professors was a globally despised mass murdered who loved to torture his own students. Another had once been caught ritually slaughtering a village of people, and using the produced power to transmute an entire city into glass.

She began to mumble something under her breath again, fingers clenching and unclenching into tight fists, and then she stood up suddenly. “I’m sorry, I… I have to go. I need to… he probably doesn’t… I need to talk to… someone. Sorry. Thanks.” And then she rushed out of the room without a backward glance, leaving Daphne to stare after her in confusion. She wondered what that was about.

After a moment, she shrugged. Nothing to do with her probably, so there was no use worrying about it. That had been a rather rude exit, but she was just a merchant girl, she probably didn’t know better. She finally turned back to her book, eager to continue her reading, only to find that the sun had moved on while she was speaking, and the ray by which she was reading had vanished. She let out a loud sigh of annoyance and went to turn on the lights.