“Nuri! Why are you here? Thought we were finally free of you this week,” Lionel teases me when I show up at the Silaraon Glassworks studio. Sunrise is still a few minutes away; it’s early in the morning on the day of my first class with Ezio.

I pull Lionel into a one-armed hug and lightly jab him in the ribs with my free hand while he tries to squirm away from my aggressive affection. “Love ya too, buddy. Don’t look so worried about my presence. I’m not staying long. Trust me, I don’t want you to rub off on me before my first class.”

“C’mon! I actually graduated from my school, unlike someone I know,” Lionel replies, laughing as he twists free and smacks me over the head with his heat-resistant gloves. “Good luck today, Nuri. We’re rooting for you.”

“Appreciate it, Lio. I’m just stopping by for a minute before heading down to the SCA. Is Melina here yet? Class starts in three and a half hours, and I don’t want to be late.”

Melina walks over from her station by her sister, Avelina, who’s getting an early start on her flamework for the day. She yawns and pats my shoulder. “Good luck!”

“Hey, why don’t you join me, Mel?”

“You’re sweet, Nuri. Can’t afford the time off, or the tuition fee,” Melina says. She clasps her hands together in front of her. “Besides, we did this for you since you’ve been working so hard at mana manipulation. This is your gift. No need to feel guilty.”

“Seems unfair. You’re a natural scholar. Why don’t you at least look over notes with me afterward and help me study? I’ll bet you’ll pick it up way faster than I will,” I suggest, barely suppressing a grin at the surprise to come.

Melina’s smile reflects her genuine joy for my good fortune. “Nuri, that sounds lovely! Sometimes Rakesh loans me his old books. I’m learning at my own pace.”

“Not today,” I announce grandly, and right on cue her twin skips over to hand her a new notebook and pen. “Today, you’re coming with me. Ember already approved it. So let’s get moving before we’re late.”

“What! How?” Melina demands. Her expression twists into a strange mix of confusion and barely controlled longing. “I’m supposed to cover you, not the other way around. I’ve got orders to fill. And besides, who’s going to watch Ava if I’m gone? What if my sister burns down the entire place?”

“I’ll snuff out the flames myself,” Ember promises Melina, striding down the stairs from her apartment to join the group. “You know Nuri can’t possibly just accept a gift without making things complicated, so here we are.”

“You’re really letting us both go?” Melina squeaks. “We won’t be able to keep up with the request from the [Governor] for updating the streetlights! You know we’re running nearly five percent behind schedule, Ember.”

Ember frowns. “We are? I thought we were on track. Hm. That is a problem. I guess if the street lamps hang in the balance, we’ll have to cancel the school trip.”

At Melina’s stricken look, Ember snorts in laughter. “If you’re really worried, make it up to me on your off day. The deal we worked out is that instead of a week of private lessons, you’ll go to a general lecture twice a week for a few hours. The studio survived long before you were born. I think we can handle a few hours without you now.”

“We’ll have to share a textbook,” I say, “but it shouldn’t be too bad. You read quickly. I thought about catching you up on what I read while we walk today, but it’s probably a better idea to get to class early and then let you loose on the text.”

“My temporal acceleration should work in my favor,” Melina says, tucking the notebook into her satchel and setting aside her safety goggles. “All right. Let’s go. What are we studying, by the way? Who’s the teacher? Oh! Is it Ezio? Will we get to review with Rakesh? Are you sure we’ll be early enough? I don’t want to make a bad impression. And what about—”

Ember ushers her out the door and gives her a gentle push toward town before Melina can ask any further questions. She grabs my arm, pulling me aside, and whispers, “Don’t let her enroll full time. One class is great, but we can’t actually afford to lose her.”

“Glass will always be first in our hearts,” I assure Ember. She rolls her eyes at that and heaves a dramatic sigh. Grinning impishly, I trot over to join Melina for the long walk into the city. The Academy is almost an hour away by foot. We’ve got plenty of time, but neither of us dare to show up late. Today’s class is too important to mess up.

=+=

Ezio paces across a low stage in the front of a wedge-shaped classroom slightly larger than the full glass studio. Chairs and desks fan out in an angle from the middle of the room in rows of eight, separated on either side of the central aisle. The basement lecture hall floor slopes down, placing the Silaraon City Academy students above the lecturer, which seems like a reversal of positions to me. Hands clasped behind his back, Ezio looks like an ancient [Sage], except for the twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Welcome to the Spring semester! We have nearly thirty new students, so we’ll break off for smaller study groups later; you can introduce yourselves during that time. For now, I expect notebooks out and eyes up front. This is the last time I’ll give this advice. You’re adults now, or near enough, so your success in this course is entirely up to your own efforts.”

I grip my pen tighter, glad I already have my notes arranged in front of me. At Melina’s insistence, we’re in the front row. I don’t like how exposed it makes me feel, since everyone’s staring at us, but at least it gives me a good view of the board on the wall. It’s massive, twice as tall as I am and probably three times as long. Instead of a rough bit of slate, like we had in my primary school, it looks more like smooth enamel. I can’t even imagine how much the SCA paid for it.

Focus, Nuri! I reprimand myself. Wonder about material costs on your own time; don’t miss the lecture.

“Many of you know that I am in the synthetic aspects research division,” Ezio says, his voice booming throughout the auditorium. He smiles slightly, straightening his long black robes, and rubs his chin. “Yet I suspect that the majority of you don’t know what that means. It’s quite all right to admit you don’t know something; that’s why we’re here today. If you do know what an aspect is—or think you know—now’s your chance to impress the class.”

In that ominous pause, the tenth bell rings. Seconds later, a door at the top of the lecture room bangs open. I spin around to watch a straggler rush inside, slamming the door behind him. He flings his bag down and flops into a seat, panting from a run.

“Glad you could join us,” Ezio says, his voice loud but still mild. “No demerits for the first day of class, but don’t let it happen again. Understood?”

“Y-yes, Master Ezio!”

Unlike our private conversation, wherein Ezio invited me to simply call him by his name, this time he has no problem accepting the honorific. I wonder if he’s trying to reinforce expected behavior so that people show up on time. “Good. See to it that you take punctuality seriously. This class is called Foundations for a reason: it will be the solid base upon which you build your entire career here at the Silaraon City Academy.”

Next to me, Melina writes down every single word, her hands blurring thanks to a small temporal field she’s running. Admittedly, it’s good training for her Skill, but part of me can’t help but think she’s cheating. The rest of us have to take notes in real time!

“Share notes later?” I whisper.

Amusement curves her lips up into a smile. “So far, my notes cover the welcome to class and a student coming in late. Still want them?”

“Of course. You’re the best.”

“You just don’t want to do extra work,” she teases quietly. Uh oh. She’s seen through me instantly. Still, she nods in agreement, so I’ll take the win.

Ezio returns to the center of the room, where he taps a mana-condensed pen against the board on the wall. The word ASPECT appears in large, bold, capitalized letters. “I’ll repeat my question for the benefit of all the students here: what is an aspect?”

I glance around surreptitiously, curious if anyone’s going to rise to the occasion. My two days of laborious reading in the assigned textbook for the course didn’t get me very far. I’m still not sure what mana is, let alone its various aspects. Sure, we all use it for Skills, but that doesn’t mean I understand the energy very well.

“Three brave souls!” Ezio announces, nodding at the students who raised their hands. “I’ll start with the young man in the front and work backward to the blue-haired young woman in the back row. Name, age, and answer?”

A smiling young man with light brown curls waves at the classroom. “Hi! I’m Jahn. I’m eighteen, and I’m delighted to finally join the SCA this semester! An aspect is just a fancy word for type. It’s an affinity for certain magics.”

Ezio nods along, right up until the end. “Welcome, Jahn. You’re halfway there, but affinity is not quite the same thing as an aspect. Rather, affinity measures your unique compatibility with certain types of magic. Thank you for going first, however. Next?”

“Zviad. Fifteen,” an elegantly-dressed student replies. If not for the perpetual sneer on his face, he’d be the perfect picture of a handsome young noble. Aristocratic features, stylishly swept hair, an assortment of expensive jewelry. His eyes slide over to Jahn, and he grimaces in distaste. “How is it that you’re one of the oldest students enrolled in a first-year class?”

“Stay on topic,” Ezio says sternly.

“Why?” Zviad fires back. “If you didn’t want us talking about how old students are, then you wouldn’t have asked our ages. I’m onto that game. I don’t know what scandalizes me more: that you’re asking us such basic questions, or that the first answer is so sloppy. I’m stuck out here for the next year before my father returns to the capital, so I thought I’d make the best of it. I don’t know why I expected anything more in the borderlands.”

“We’re here to learn, not insult one another. Your reply wasn’t salient; we’re still waiting for an actual answer. I hope your coursework is more satisfactory, or you’ll soon find that all the connections in the world can’t save you from failing my class,” Ezio says.

Zviad sits upright. His jaw clenches, but he seems to respond to Ezio’s strictness, a sign of his practiced discipline. “An aspect is a shift in mana alignment due to exposure to significant and persistent elemental influences. Much like a lodestone applied to steel changes the verticity and results in magnetism, certain energies will impart a new aspect to mana.”

A genuine smile lights up Ezio’s face at that answer. “Ah, a devotee of the great [Mana Analyst] Brekhna, I see. Excellent choice. I commend your tutor—and you, for memorizing the passage. All the same, not everyone in Foundations will understand her terminology quite yet. Permeability and alignment are topics we’ll get to later, but learning how to summarize simply in your own words is when I know you truly understand the subject.”

No response from Zviad, other than a slight tightness in the muscles around his eyes. A long moment passes, and Ezio calls on the final student who raised a hand.

We all turn to look at the student Ezio chose last. She’s short, barely visible over the rim of her desk from my perspective, since I’m looking up from the bottom row of the tiered seating, and she’s sitting alone. What I can see is bright blue hair—definitely not her natural color—that perfectly matches her eyes, which seem to spark and dance with inner lightning.

“I’m Teuira. Thirteen. I was born with lightning-aspected mana, so I know all about it. It basically just means my mana can only be used for lightning. I’m really strong with lightning magic, but I can’t cast any other spells or earn a non-lightning Skill. Oh, and don’t sit near me; I’m not very good at controlling the static discharge or sparks that form, and it’s not my fault if you get hurt.”

“Thirteen and already in an Academy class!” I hiss, leaning over to Melina. “She must be some sort of genius.”

“She’s probably frightened and lonely. Don’t add pressure by placing unrealistic burdens on her or calling her a prodigy,” Melina whispers back. “Maybe I’ll say hello after class. I’ve got some ideas of how to mitigate unintentional lightning strikes.”

I shake my head in admiration. “You’re too pure for this world, Mel. Never change.”

“Thank you, Teuira,” Ezio says. He strides back to the board and sketches two columns on the wall: positives and negatives. Under the first he draws a jagged bolt of lightning that glows with mana, while under the second category he draws a frowning face.

“As you said, you have an already-naturalized form of mana. It’s both a blessing and a curse: your magic is powerful, but it won’t translate into other aspects. In your case, you also possess a high affinity. I can tell that from here, without the aid of a mana gauge, which means it’s one of the highest affinities I’ve seen in a while.”

“Sounds like I was right,” Jahn interjects.

“Half right,” Ezio says with a smile, not missing a beat. “But it was a helpful lead-in to the discussion of affinities. Some people have inborn magical inclinations, while most of us have none at all. That’s another thing to add to our chart.”

On the two-column table, Ezio marks down “more versatile” and “weaker,” respectively.

“I’ll continue to ask questions for today’s class, just to get a sense of who knows what. Moving forward, however, we’ll do more practical work. Next week, we’ll test you all with the mana gauge, then we’ll proceed with mana manipulation techniques, and finally, we’ll develop your project for the semester. It will involve both research and demonstration, so please think about your topics now.

“Moving on! What is the difference between low, middle, and high in the Tier Rankings? When does a monster or mercenary move between divisions versus jumping up an entire tier?”

“Why the easy questions?” Zviad scoffs. “Don’t tell me we’re going to waste time with all these children’s questions, such as ‘what is mana?’ Maybe we’ll go over circulation and simple shaping exercises next. What are we, twelve again and just gaining our Classes?”

“Zviad! You’ve been holding out on us. You’ve already mastered circulation techniques?” Ezio asks.

A wicked grin splits my face at the dangerous brightness in Ezio’s voice. It doesn’t take a genius to recognize a trap. Yet Zviad is so arrogant that he steps right into it without a care in the world.

“Who hasn’t?”

Ezio arches an eyebrow. “Excellent dedication to your studies, as expected for someone who reads Brekhna. Why don’t you provide us with a demonstration?”

“Right now?” Zviad asks. His voice warbles slightly; the first sign of cracks in his armor. It reminds me that he’s only fifteen, for all his big talk.

“Please,” Ezio says, gesturing to the stage next to him. “Observation is an essential part of education. You’d be doing your peers a great service.”

“Yeah, but if they don’t have any mana senses developed, then what’s the point?” Zviad says, not budging from his seat.

“Those who do will benefit from the display. Those still working on unlocking those skills will have more motivation to work hard,” Ezio counters. “Come on up, please.”

Zviad shrugs. He vaults over his desk, leaping lightly down to the floor and landing in a graceful stance. He closes his eyes in concentration, takes a breath, and steps through an odd, formal-looking series of slow, flowing movements and sudden sharp strikes.

I can’t quite tell if it’s a dance or a martial exercise. I call on the new, looping circulation techniques that I’ve been studying in my primer, moving as much mana to my eyes as I can to try to follow what he’s doing with his own circulation. For once, my mana cooperates, and I catch a glimpse of Zviad’s mana coursing through him, far faster and more responsive than my own. Whatever he’s doing gives him an incredible advantage when it comes to Skill activation.

Hm. He’s competent, not simply arrogant. A potent combination.

“Wow. He’s good. Wonder if he’ll give me pointers if I ask,” I comment to Melina, who is frowning at him and not paying any attention to me. Ah. Right. She doesn’t have [Manasight] or a variant, either, so this has to be driving her crazy.

I pat Melina on the arm. “I’ll tell you about what he’s doing later. I think I’m close to unlocking another Skill, so that should help me see what you’re doing, too. We can improve together. What are the chances I’ll get it before the semester concludes?”

“Almost certain, if you’re seeing the energy flows already,” Ezio replies, which makes me jump. I didn’t notice that he’d drifted over to my desk.

“Pay close attention,” Ezio continues in a conspiratorial tone, speaking only to me. “He’s good, if a bit of a hothead. I’m putting you in his study group, along with Teuira. He’ll complain, but it’s a good opportunity for you to learn.”

“Thank you, I think,” I say.

“My pleasure. Now, stop talking to each other in class. It’s rude. Just raise your hand if you have a question.”

I blush, but Ezio just winks at my discomfort. He strides back to the stage just as Zviad completes his movements, and leads the round of applause for the impressive demonstration.

“Beautifully performed kata, Zviad. Your speed is impressive,” Ezio says, nodding at the student in recognition.

“Better be,” Zviad says, leaping back up to his seat with a burst of mana empowering his muscles temporarily. “I’ve been working on that since I was three years old.”

Ezio rubs his chin, appearing deep in thought. “Maintaining control without performing the movements must be difficult by this time, since they’re so interwoven. During my class, you’ll refrain from relying on the kata for circulation or manipulation techniques. Practice sitting still.”

“That’s my family’s traditional technique,” Zviad says hotly. He crosses his arms. “Are you saying they’re substandard?”

“Not at all,” Ezio replies smoothly. “I’m saying that you’ve inadvertently been using them as a crutch. You’re skilled, but you can be even better.”

I gulp. If Zviad isn’t good enough for Ezio’s standards, then what hope do I have? I can’t measure up to the expertise I just saw on display. I shake off my feeling of inadequacy and try to sketch out the flows I witnessed. All I can do is keep practicing. I don’t need to compare myself to nobles or [Mages]. I’m here to learn what I can, and that’s enough for me.

I raise my hand, waiting for Ezio to call on me. When he nods in my direction, I glance at my notes to make sure I’m getting the terms right. “Could we go back to the Tier Rankings? I’m well-acquainted with Bronze monsters, but I don’t know how the scale originated. I also don’t know how they go from low to middle to high. Is there a governing body that decides monster threat rankings? Oh, and who judges adventurers and mercenaries? Do we take a test to get our own rankings?”

“Great question, Nuri. For those of you who are unaware, Nuri fought and killed a pair of Shadow Jaguars during the beast irruption in Peliharaon last year.”

Excited murmurs break out in the class, and Ezio smiles, tolerating the frenzy of whispers until the students settle down. “That’s right, he skipped right past Coppers, straight to low Bronze.”

A hand shoots up, and Ezio nods at an athletic girl with a sharp bob cut in the second row, who’s staring at me with uncomfortable intensity. “Thanks. I’m Zara. Seventeen, since I served a year as an apprentice in the Royal army. Shadow Jaguars are mid-to-upper Bronze threat. How do you figure they’re low? And how did he kill them? He’s not army.”

Ezio claps his hands together. “Ah, delightful! Actual combat experience is fun. Excellent observations, Zara. Usually, the jaguars travel in large packs. Fighting off a group is much harder than fighting a few on their own. As for how Nuri did it—I’ll let him answer, but only if he wants to say.” As Ezio says the last line, he gives me a meaningful look.

“Mostly luck,” I say, grinning.

Polite titters of laughter erupt from the crowd, but the girl narrows her eyes. I suspect she’ll push for answers after class. I’m not sure why it’s a big deal, but if Ezio is on guard, then I’d be a fool not to heed his guidance.

“Numbers alone are enough to shift a threat within its division, but insufficient to jump tiers,” Ezio says, moving on before any further questions arise. “The reason is closely related to our studies of the three keys of mana: Skills, senses, and shaping. Copper threats are mundane. Don’t think that they aren’t dangerous. They can still be deadly. Few people would dare face a stampede of wildebeest, for example.

“Bronze creatures are awakened to mana. In the low divisions, this manifests most frequently as increased intelligence. As we move higher, we sometimes see a passive ability, such as stealth. Rarely do we see any active mana Skills in Bronze, however, unless it’s an otherwise weak or defenseless creature. Skill usage is most often the deciding factor in shifting a threat up to Silver. This is when a creature gains rudimentary mana channels that connect to a metaphysical core.”

I write down a summary: Copper is mundane. Bronze is smart, no Skills, maybe stealth or poison. Silver is magic.

“Gold is when a beast core fully forms in the physical realm, but that is a topic for another course of study; we’ll touch on it when we discuss Rifts and the economy of harvesting rare natural resources and monster parts. We’ll skip the rest, since they’re so far above us that it’s never going to be relevant.”

“Couldn’t you fight them?” Zara interjects. “I was told that you work with a number of [Scouts] and [Hunters].”

“Alas, while I do research for them, I am only a [Scholar], not a [War Mage]. I have joined them on the field at times, but in a non-combat role, unless things went wrong. But that is a story for another time.”

I jot down a reminder to look into my teacher more closely. He’s harboring secrets, and I don’t want to be caught off guard.

Ezio smirks at us, and a part of me thinks he’s looking directly at me. “Break into groups for the rest of today’s class. Introduce yourself to each other, discuss your specializations, and go over the rest of the syllabus—if you can find it. We’ll reconvene in two days.”

With that, Ezio claps his hands together with percussive force. Four sets of glittering, mana-infused names appear on the board, assigning us to work groups of distinct colors: blood red, bone white, midnight black, and sky-blue. A glow of unique elemental mana accompanies each one, faintly visible even without straining to use my nascent mana sense.

Above the lists of names is a single sentence in bold lettering: “Class quest: The river of knowledge flows from the spring of mana.”

By the time I glance back down to the stage, Ezio is gone.

“You. Old guy. I saw the mana glimmering in your eyes when I was demonstrating mana circulation, so you’re our bloodhound. Find the blue syllabus, Jaguar-Slayer,” Zviad says, his voice dripping with derisive sarcasm.

I groan internally. Of course I’m stuck with this guy. No wonder Ezio was smirking at me.