The Water Tower!

The dormitories for first-year witches were assigned between numbers 61 to 88, each with a small courtyard perfect for beginners dabbling in magic. Lyra stood outside the creaky wooden door of Dormitory No. 61, her voice rising with enthusiasm.

"Amy! Amy! Are you in there?" she called, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify the sound.

The door swung open with a loud 'thunk', revealing Amy: apron-clad and gripping a large, bloody kitchen knife. A faint metallic scent lingered in the air.

"Lyra?" Amy blinked in surprise, then wiped the knife on her apron with a casual shrug. "What's up? Something wrong?"

"Not really!" Lyra grinned. "Can I borrow the water tower in your backyard to practice the 'Clear Spring' Technique?"

Amy tilted her head, confused. "The Clear Spring Technique? Why do you need a water tower for that?"

"You see," Lyra explained, stepping closer, "the water summoned by the spell is real. If I don't catch it, it'll just spill everywhere and be wasted. My water tower's already full, so I thought of you."

Just as she finished her sentence, a neighboring door creaked open, and Alba, from Dormitory No. 62, stepped out carrying an empty bucket. She looked curiously between Lyra and Amy.

"Alba!" Lyra beamed at her. "Any chance I could use your water tower too?"

Alba's eyes lit up. "Are you kidding? Of course! I'd love to fill it; mine's bone dry!"

From the adjacent yard, Cheryl overheard the conversation and leaned over the low stone fence with a curious grin. "Need another water tower?" she offered.

"Yes! All of them!" Lyra clapped her hands together gleefully. "Keep every single one ready for me!"

With an air of determination, Lyra rolled up her sleeves. Last night, she'd recharged her magical energy by storing freshly earned mana from selling spell cards, nearly 972 points ready to be used. Today would be the perfect time to hone her skills and make the most out of that energy.

She began in Amy's backyard, standing before the water tower as if it were a sacred altar. Drawing in a deep breath, Lyra summoned her magic. The air shimmered with power as water began to pour forth from thin air, crystal-clear and cool. Each time she cast the spell, she adjusted the flow and felt the magic's pull, striving to perfect her control over both output and precision.

"The 'Ding Dong of Clear Springs' wasn't lying," Lyra whispered to herself with a satisfied smile. "Repetition really does make all the difference."

With every spell cast, her grip over the magic grew steadier. After filling the towers in Amy, Alba, and Cheryl's yards, Lyra felt a shift, a newfound stability in her spellcasting. Even when her concentration wavered slightly, the magic no longer faltered. Better yet, she noticed an increase in her efficiency; instead of needing 2 points of mana to perform the spell, she now required only 2.5, a small but significant improvement.

By the time she finished filling 25 water towers, she'd only used 60 points of her total mana. Even though she had plenty of magic left in reserve, she'd run out of available water towers to practice on. Practicing indoors was out of the question; flooding the dormitory would lead to certain disaster. The breadfruit grove was another option, but she feared the excess water might harm the delicate trees. Other places were either filled with plants or crisscrossed by paved roads, unsuitable for experiments with flowing water.

Puzzled, Lyra tapped her chin. 'Where else could she practice without making a mess?'

After a moment of deliberation, the answer hit her. 'The dean.' If anyone knew, it would be him. Without a second thought, Lyra dashed off to seek his advice.

"Dean! Dean!" she called breathlessly as she arrived at his office. "Where's the closest place I can practice the 'Clear Spring' Technique?"

The dean stroked his long, silver beard thoughtfully and gave her a slow nod. "Well..."

"Yes?" Lyra leaned in eagerly.

"The well," he replied with a wink.

"The 'well'! Of course! Thank you, Dean!" Lyra gave a quick bow and sprinted off toward the courtyard well.

Near the well, a second-year witch named Renee was crouched in her yard, tending to a bed of tomato plants. As Lyra approached, she waved cheerfully.

"Morning, Renee!" Lyra greeted with a grin.

"Lyra! Look at you, all bright-eyed so early," Renee laughed, plucking a plump, ripe tomato from the vine. She polished it on her sleeve and handed it to Lyra. "Here, try this! Just picked."

"Thanks!" Lyra accepted the tomato eagerly and took a big, juicy bite. "Mmm! It's delicious!"

Renee beamed with pride. "Magic makes gardening a breeze once you get the hang of it. You should try it; plant magic is the best!"

"Maybe one day," Lyra said through a mouthful of tomato.

"So," Renee tilted her head curiously, "are you here to fetch some water? You're empty-handed."

"Not exactly. I'm here to practice the 'Clear Spring' Technique. The well's perfect since I won't have to worry about the water spilling all over or running off too far."

Renee gave her an approving nod. "Smart! And you've already mastered the spell? Impressive! Not many first-years can do that."

Lyra blushed slightly at the praise, brushing it off with a sheepish grin. "I still have a lot to learn, but I've made good progress today."

Renee leaned against the well, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. "You know, this well's special. Ever wondered why it never runs dry?"

Lyra paused mid-bite, curious. "Why is that?"

"Ah," Renee said with a wink. "That's a secret only the dedicated witches learn. But keep practicing, and maybe, just maybe, you'll find out one day."

Lyra chuckled, feeling more energized than ever. With a half-eaten tomato in hand, she placed both palms over the well and summoned her magic once more. Water bubbled and trickled in graceful arcs, filling the ancient stone basin as if answering an unspoken call.

Today had been a good day. And Lyra knew, this was only the beginning.

'The Truth About the Well and the Art of Clear Springs'

"Isn't it because of the groundwater?" Lyra asked, her brow furrowed as she considered the source of the well's endless water.

Renee shook her head with a sly smile. "Of course not. It's because all the little witches practice their Clear Spring Magic here by the well!"

Lyra's face lit up in sudden realization. "Ah, so that's the reason!"

But Renee's mischievous grin widened, as if she were holding back a laugh. "Wait… You actually believed that?"

Lyra blinked, confusion spreading across her face. "What? Are you messing with me, senior?"

"Obviously!" Renee laughed, tossing a stray lock of hair out of her face. "I'm just teasing you! No one takes the Clear Spring Technique that seriously. It's just daily-use magic; something you do whenever you need water. Most witches only use it to fill a water bottle or top off a tea kettle, not for hardcore practice sessions."

Lyra froze in place, her expression deadpan. She had spent all morning practicing, treating the spell like a sacred rite, and now this?

"...So this is what you're really like, huh, Renee?" Lyra muttered under her breath, her shoulders sagging in exasperation. But as she thought about it, Renee's words planted a seed in her mind.

'Daily-use magic…'

Renee's teasing wasn't entirely wrong. If the Clear Spring Technique was designed to be used in everyday life, then mastering it required more than filling water towers by the well. Practicing the spell on the go, in casual, spontaneous moments was just as important.

Still, Lyra was determined. She knew that basic repetition by the well was essential to sharpen her precision and power. Practicing both the raw output of magic and learning to fine-tune the spell were equally important. After all, it was one thing to conjure a fountain; it was another to summon just enough water without spilling a drop.

'Even if it's considered simple magic,' Lyra thought, 'I'll keep practicing. Only by experiencing every step, learning how the magic evolves; can I eventually create learning cards with accurate progress bars.'

Seeing the determination in Lyra's eyes, Renee decided not to interfere. "Alright, alright," she said with a playful shrug. "Go ahead, Water Witch. Knock yourself out."

Lyra flashed a smile, grateful for the encouragement, even if it came wrapped in sarcasm. She returned to her spellwork, conjuring streams of water from thin air, experimenting with flow and control. Time passed, and she lost herself in the rhythm of casting, filling the well until her magic reserves were half depleted.

Satisfied for now, Lyra let the magic fade. She glanced at the sun overhead, realizing it was past noon. Her stomach rumbled softly. Plucking a ripe breadfruit from a nearby tree, she sat down by the well, nibbling at the fruit's soft flesh as she pulled out her book, 'The Ding Dong of Clear Springs.'

As she read, Lyra discovered that the latter chapters offered advanced techniques and clever variations on the basic spell. There were detailed instructions on how to summon just enough water to fill a teacup without spilling, and how to create a suspended sphere of water; perfect for drinking without needing a cup.

"That would be so useful during class," Lyra mused aloud, imagining conjuring a water sphere mid-lecture to quench her thirst. She smiled to herself at the thought. 'If I master that, I'll never need to carry a water bottle again.'

The book also described how, with advanced mastery, the Clear Spring Technique could be adapted to form rain or mist. However, unlike combat-oriented magic, this water wouldn't carry any special properties, it was just water, pure and simple. It wouldn't become poisonous, freezing, or enchanted like other water-based spells used in battle.

"The rain from this technique really is just water in a different form," Lyra whispered, running her finger over the diagram in the book. "It's no wonder they call it a 'life magic.' It's not designed to fight with; it's meant to help us in day-to-day life."

Even if she could summon a deluge, Lyra knew there were far more effective spells for attacking an enemy. The Clear Spring Technique's strength lay not in offense, but in its permanence. The water it created didn't vanish once the spell ended, it stayed, flowing and useful, unlike other water spells that faded into nothing more than damp puddles when their magic wore off.

Lyra's eyes widened in realization. Renee's advice now made more sense. 'So this is what she meant by practicing magic in real life.' Simply filling water towers wasn't enough to fully master the spell. True mastery required using the technique instinctively, in small, everyday ways; whether filling a cup, watering a plant, or conjuring a quick drink.

But just practicing during daily chores wasn't enough for Lyra. She wanted more than casual proficiency. She wanted control, precision, and mastery over every aspect of the spell. That's why, even with Renee's light-hearted teasing, she knew she had to keep practicing by the well. It was a space where she could push her limits, experiment, and test how far she could stretch her magic.

After finishing her breadfruit, Lyra stood up, brushing crumbs off her robes. With a newfound sense of purpose, she returned to the well to continue practicing. Her hands glowed faintly as she summoned another stream of water, this time trying to conjure a perfectly round water sphere.

It wobbled and splashed at first, but she kept going, adjusting her magic until the sphere hovered steadily in the air, glimmering in the afternoon sun.

"Almost got it!" she whispered, her heart racing with excitement. With time and practice, she knew she would soon be able to summon water as effortlessly as the witches in the book.

And one day, she might even create her own variations of the spell, turning ordinary magic into something extraordinary.