Dallion and the mage ripped the air, clashing like two comets of polar opposed magnetic ore. Each side had its own method of fighting, resulting in the utter destruction of the arena around them. Dallion would use his instances and familiars to crack the Alien’s perfect defense, while the mage would cast multiple spells with large ranging effects. The issue was that while Dallion was getting more and more tired, his opponent was as energetic as he had been at the start of the fight.

“Nox!” Dallion shouted. A pack of cublings charged at the mage, shredding the protective sphere surrounding him. No sooner had they done so than three more formed, effectively negating all progress.

Suddenly a torrent of wind exploded from the mage, pushing the Noxes, as well as all of Dallion’s instances fifty feet back.

“Lux, your turn!” Dallion summoned ingots of metal, leaving Nox to propel them at the target.

The approach had helped defeat Vermillion—a serpent made out of a chain of islands—and still, it proved useless against a mage. The ingots simply bounced off, dealing devastation to what was left of the surrounding arena.

Seeing it was no use, Dallion stopped.

“Why?” he whispered.

“Because you don’t think you’re strong enough,” his opponent replied.

“I’ve defeated mages before.”

“You were never alone. Also, I’m not a simple mage. I’m the epitome of magic—the pinnacle as seen through your imagination. If you were defeated by a platypus, there’s no way your subconscious would rationalize winning against me. Don’t feel bad. It’s the same for all mages. Every single one of them goes through the same. No matter how strong you are, your understanding of the aspects you don’t know is always greater.”

Dallion’s first thought was that he should have waited until he could actually compose spells before taking on the challenge. With a bit of luck, and a lot of training, it might prove to be enough. Not now, though.

All of Dallion’s instances faded, leaving a single one. One by one, he unsummoned his weapons, then the armadil shield.

“Well, at least you know your limitations,” Alien said. “One bit of advice. There are no do overs in the Academy. If you start a conflict there, make sure you can win.”

“Good advice.” Dallion looked around. The stands of the arena had been reduced to rubble. Even the entrance leading in had collapsed, leaving him metaphorically trapped. As much as he disliked it, he was going to say the dreaded words. “I surrender.”

You failed to defeat your fears!

You won’t be able to shape your destiny for another 24:00 hours.

The rectangle emerged as Dallion was transported back to the mountain cliff.

Twenty-four hours. At this rate, it might as well be twenty-four months. After spending a few more seconds staring at the marble doors, Dallion then went back to the real world. Nothing had changed around him. He was back to being a child, in an auditorium with others like him, trying to figure out how to create a magic symbol. If Dallion was half his age, he’d probably be ecstatic at being the first; however, after the crushing disappointment during his trial, he could only sigh as he moved his finger through the air, releasing magic as he did.

“Well done, Dal.” The fury instructor went up to him. “A perfect example of a magic symbol.”

“Thanks.” Dallion forced a smile, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Since you mastered the principle, you’re the first to get your very own practice booklet.” The fury drew a series of symbols in the air. One of them was the “matter” symbol. “There are twenty inside. I know you’re tempted to learn them all in one go, but try to go slow and steady. It’s not only about creating the symbols but also learning what they represent. There won’t be any guide book when you get to casting spells.”

“Yes, sir,” Dallion mumbled, and opened the book to the first page.

The symbol there resembled the figure eight. Learning it was going to be just as easy as learning the one for matter. Yet Dallion didn’t return to his awakening realm. Instead, he waved his finger about, pretending to try and create the symbol. Come lunchtime, he requested that he spend the rest of the day in the library. Being one of the class champions, he was allowed that caprice. Sadly, that didn’t help much.

It had been a while since Dallion had experienced such difficulties progressing. Not that it was the first time hitting a wall. In his mind, he believed that after defeating the Star there was nothing capable of presenting a challenge. In effect, that wasn’t true. He had defeated a Star. There was no telling how soon another would emerge.

You’re taking this harder than you should, Nil said. Failing the trial is a good thing. At least now you have no illusions that you’ll become a noble anytime soon.

“Or ever,” Dallion whispered.

Don’t be so sure. While the challenge is considerable, if no mages ever level up, how would they know that you lose a magic level by doing so?

A sudden glint of hope sparked in Dallion’s eyes. He should have considered that.

I suggest you take a break for today. Don’t try to learn anything more, just get back to your room and get some rest. Let magic take its course.

The advice was rather good, which was why Dallion only ignored half of it. He indeed returned to his room, yet instead of resting, he got back to doing what he was best at: practice and experiment. Rather than focus on learning new symbols, though, he chose to focus on what he had already learned.

Taking a button from his hunter’s outfit, Dallion tried drawing the circular symbol on it. It took several dozen attempts to get it right, but in the end, he managed to neatly draw a small version of the circle on the button’s surface. The moment he did, the button turned gold.

ENCHANTER

(+2 Body)

You’ve acquired the understanding and finesse to use symbols to enchant items. Keep in mind that enchantments lie halfway between reality and illusion.

A purple rectangle appeared before quickly fading away. Entering the realm of the button, Dallion saw exactly what the explanation meant. On the inside, the button remained just that—a wooden button. The matter symbol—glowing with the strength and speed of gold—was clearly visible on a wall, modifying the physical aspect of the item.

Thinking about it, enchantments seemed to be nothing more than stable illusions: they turned something into something it was not. For the moment Dallion only knew how to “create” certain materials, but with enough practice he could potentially make items invisible, electric, or even indestructible.

The rest of the day was spent changing the material of everything in Dallion’s room. At one point, he turned everything into pure gold, to Ruby’s dismay, before returning it to normal.

Another discovery he made was that, by slicing through the threads of magic, one had the ability to destroy the rune. Typically, the connections within the symbol itself were too strong to be torn using standard means, but the Nox dagger proved more than capable of achieving that. Funnily enough, that also gave Dallion the achievement of disenchanter, along with two points on his mind trait.

The following day, the symbol learning continued. Dallion learned the symbol for shape, temperature, attachment, and several more. Each new symbol allowed him to achieve different fears, upon attacking it to an object, and with each successful enchantment, Dallion’s spellcraft skill increased. Unlike most of Dallion’s other skills, the process was exceedingly easy. In a matter of days, he had already gotten to thirty-seven. The same couldn’t be said for his magic trait—that remained the same regardless of what he did.

“Look what I did!” Phoil boasted during lunch.

Over a dozen children had gathered, looking at him expectantly. Dallion wasn’t among the group. Like the black-haired, and Cheska, he remained at the “champions’” table finishing his food.

“Flying quills!” Phoil said triumphantly, as several feathers rose up in the air. It was obvious that the echoes within him had suggested he learn one of the symbols at the back of the book.

“Show off,” Cheska said beneath his breath. Similar to Dallion, she had managed to achieve a lot more. Unlike Phoil, though, she had only shown it to a select few; namely the known members of the alliance and the instructor. “It’s flashy, I’ll give him that, but seriously…”

“Ignore him.” Dallion drew a heat symbol on the side of his bowl, warming up the lukewarm soup he had been given. “People will get tired.”

“I doubt it,” Cheska snorted. “Knowing him, if he’s out of ideas, he’ll announce he’s learned everything there is.”

“Right.”

“How many have you learned?”

“Eight. Going on nine.”

“Though you’d be more with your traits.” A distinct sense of superiority emanated from the girl. As any prodigy, she excelled at showing others she was better, especially those who were of the same caliber.

The black-haired, in contrast, remained perfectly calm, as if everything going on was beneath him. Despite being ten, he was the alpha predator of the cohort—a very cold, calculating, and shiny predator.

“What about you?” Dallion probed.

The noble gave him a single cold look, then went back to reading his book.

“Are you still at five?” he asked.

“For the moment. You said there was time.”

“You’re taking a big risk.” The tone of the boy had changed. This was no longer a child talking. Dallion had enough experience with nobles to know that he was repeating the words of someone with authority. In all likelihood an Archduke was issuing the warning, and it had to be heeded. “Learn the primary symbols, then focus on your magic.”

“I’ll do that.”

A feather zipped by, inches from Dallion’s face, hitting the table.

“Oops, sorry about that,” Phoil said with the sincerity of a feasting crocodile. “Still getting a hang on my magic.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dallion picked up the feather with his left hand, then drew a symbol on it. The feather burst into flames. “Magic is a tricky thing, but you’ll get there.”

Silence filled the dining room. Quickly, everyone moved away, returning to their meals or leaving the room altogether. A few minutes later, Dallion left his soup unfinished and left as well. The time of Academy innocence had ended. Deep down, he had feared this would happen. He’d only thought that he’d have a bit more time.

Nil, how important is this amethyst? Dallion asked as he made his way along the corridors of the Learning Hall.

Like all Moonstones, extremely and not at all, the echo replied. It is said that they are a fragment of the Moons themselves both physically and metaphorically. It’s said that the archbishop of the Order has one—Astreza’s. Even he doesn’t do anything with it, though.

That’s not what the Archduke’s son said.

I was there, dear boy. Annoyance crept into Nil’s tone. Yes, in theory, as a physical representation of the Moon, the Moostones should share the same properties. I won’t lie that mages haven’t used them for components in their experiments, but that’s it. The Purple Moon doesn’t like it if someone draws magic out of his stone, so there aren’t many who bother getting it. Well, except for vanity purposes.

Why is the Archduke so eager to get it?

That is not for us to know.

The more Nil became evasive, the more it became clear that only a conversation with the original—captain Adzorg. Before that, though, Dallion intended to take advantage of the favor he was owed, or even better. If there was one thing the general had taught him, it was that every deal was prone to renegotiation.