Ivory Warden of Azmaaris - III

The atmosphere in the classroom was unlike anything Liam had experienced before. At first, it seemed like the usual setting of a strict, no-nonsense teacher — a professor who imposed discipline equally upon all.

But as the lecture progressed, Liam realized how utterly wrong he was.

He only had eyes on him.

Professor Heath Carter carried himself with a detached ease, his gaze scanning the class without much effort. Yet every time Liam so much as shifted in his seat, he could feel an invisible weight pressing down on him as if Carter was watching — no, studying — his every reaction.

Liam kept his expression neutral.

Carter finally spoke.

"Lightning."

The word was written as the floating quill scratched against the board, guided by nothing but the professor's will.

"One of the so-called five elements as the world perceives them."

Carter turned, pacing slowly.

"A force of nature, raw and untamed. Yet tell me—why do we insist on calling it an element? When in reality, it is merely a transition of energy? An unstable force seeking equilibrium?"

The quill danced again, writing:

Lightning is not an element. It is a reaction.

"And so I say this again, as I have in previous lectures — " he sighed, his tone carrying something between amusement and exhaustion, "the entire foundation of Elemental Studies is flawed. It is riddled with outdated perceptions and comfortable ignorance. But, of course — " Carter exhaled sharply through his nose, tilting his head slightly, "one man cannot challenge the whole system now, can he?"

Then, with no warning, he looked straight at Liam.

Liam did not react.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Some students shuffled uncomfortably.

Then Carter continued as if nothing had happened.

"Lightning is the most difficult force to conjure."

"It is the toughest element to wield."

"And how do I know this?"

The quill moved. Words began writing themselves onto the board:

"86 Elementalists"

"46 Dual-Elementalists"

"18 Triple-Elementalists"

"1 Quadra-Elementalist"

Professor Carter let the numbers settle in.

"And yet — " he studied the room, "not a single one of you present here has mastered Lightning as an element."

The students shifted in their seats, casting nervous glances at each other.

"That alone should tell you why this lesson is more important than — " Carter's voice cut off abruptly.

His eyes locked onto a student in the far row.

"— than your need to find a spouse, Miss Claire."

A girl jolted upright in her seat, her face turning a shade paler.

"If I catch you one more time paying more attention to Prince Liam than to this lecture, I will assume you have already mastered the art of Lightning Conjuration — " Carter's voice darkened slightly, "and I will call you forward to demonstrate."

Claire shrank in her seat, her face burning red as stifled chuckles spread across the room.

Carter's expression remained unreadable.

Liam, however, remained still.

Carter strode toward the front of the classroom, his coat swaying slightly with each step. The air around him felt charged — subtly, but undeniably so.

The quill, still suspended in the air, began to write once more.

"Lightning is not summoned. It is created."

A faint hum resonated throughout the classroom.

"Lightning does not obey," he continued, his voice steady. "It resists. It refuses. It fights until the very last moment before it yields."

He raised a hand.

A single spark flared to life at his fingertips — a fragile, flickering ember of electricity.

Then, without warning, it twisted into something alive.

A sharp, crackling arc leaped from his palm, branching out like veins of raw energy which then thinned out as a stream with increasing intensity before vanishing into nothingness. Some students flinched at the sudden release.

Liam's eyes narrowed.

They were the five stages of lightning conjuration but at its core was absolute control.

"Lightning is not a tame thing," Carter continued as if the demonstration had never happened. "It is impatient, volatile, and above all — "

The spark returned, but this time, it did not disappear.

It pulsed.

It coiled around his fingers, jagged and restless, before slithering down his wrist like a serpent of light. It arced across his knuckles, flashing and vanishing in a blink.

"— hungry."

The board glided upwards and a new board appeared from behind. The quill moved again, writing in sharp, precise strokes:

"Sparks"

"Arcs"

"Zaps"

"Bolts" 

"These are not mere words. They are states of being," Carter said. "A single spark — a whisper of energy searching for form. An arc — a desperate bridge connecting one point to another. A zap — an impulse, an instant decision. Finally the bolt — "

He lifted his hand.

For a single heartbeat, the room was drowned in blinding white.

A jagged lance of lightning tore through the space above their heads, splitting the air with an earsplitting crack before vanishing as swiftly as it came.

Several students gasped.

Carter let the silence stretch, allowing the weight of what had just happened to settle.

Then, calmly, he spoke.

"But how do we begin? Anyone?"

Carter's eyes swept over the classroom, searching for a volunteer. The silence that followed was thick, expectant.

"How do we begin?" His voice carried no urgency, only patience. "Anyone?"

Not a single student spoke.

Liam sat still, watching the faint static still flickering in the air where the lightning bolt had vanished. His mind turned, piecing together what he had read, what he had observed.

Then, without thinking, he whispered, "Lightning Heart."

It was quiet. Barely above a breath.

But Carter's gaze snapped to him immediately.

"Speak louder." His voice did not rise, yet it commanded attention.

Liam hesitated, then straightened. "Lightning Heart," he repeated.

"Lightning Heart," the flying quill wrote.

It appeared just above "Spark" — right in the space that had gone unnoticed until now.

The gap had been deliberate. A placeholder. Something meant to be filled.

And Liam had just given the missing piece.

Carter turned back to face the class.

He didn't nod. He didn't praise.

Instead —

"This," he gestured toward the board, "is what lack of information feels like."

His voice, calm as ever, sent a strange chill down the room.

"A quadra-elementalist with undeniable talent — and yet, lacking the very foundation she should have had access to from the start. While royalty sits upon libraries of knowledge, others must fumble in the dark, hoping to find the pieces on their own."

Silence.

Carter turned fully to Liam now, eyes locked onto him.

"Next time you speak in my class, direct it to me, student Liam."

Carter exhaled lightly, the weight of the next words he spoke carried a depth beyond the classroom.

"What I will be teaching you today," he said, pacing back toward the board, "is not my knowledge."

The quill hovered expectantly.

"Everything I will show you originates from the teachings of a single man."

The quill wrote:

Gregory Stormcaller.

The room remained silent. Some students had heard the name before. Most had not.

Carter did not elaborate. He simply turned back to the board.

"Lightning, as a force, is not something one merely conjures. It must be understood, controlled, earned."

He gestured.

The quill moved again, carving out five precise lines beneath Lightning Heart.

"The Five Steps of Lightning Manifestation"

"1. Lightning Heart – Harnessing the faint mana pulse of lightning, a skill designed at the mana capacity of late Initiates to practice elemental tempering, control, and precision."

"2. Sparks – Creating tiny palmar discharges, an exercise with a mana requirement of early Apprentices."

"3. Arcs – Channeling electricity in short, visible bursts, with the power of mid Apprentices."

"4. Zaps – Casting a focused stream of lightning, achievable only with a mana resource of late Apprentices."

"5. Bolts – Summoning a bolt of raw lightning, the first real taste of mastery over the element, designed for early Adepts."

Carter went on to explain each step in excruciating detail, his voice unwavering, his movements effortless. The lecture spanned two hours, covering theory, application, and limitations. Not a single question went unanswered.

Then, in the final hour—

"You will now practice the first stage — "Lightning Heart."

The students sat in rigid anticipation before beginning their attempts.

It was close to the next class bell.

Few succeeded. Some struggled. The vast majority failed to even fuel the heart with lightning.

Among the first to manifest anything was a handful of elementalists, along with one dual-elementalist. Carter gave them measured nods, guiding them with precise corrections where needed.

Then came the ones who faced greater struggles.

Serena Beckett — the only Quadra-Elementalist in the room — was among them.

Carter's gaze fell upon her as she tried once more. And this time — however faint, however unstable — a flicker of lightning pulsed within her.

A whisper of acknowledgment passed through the class.

Carter's expression did not shift. No smile. No visible pride.

But his words carried weight.

"I sensed it," he said simply. "Well done."

Serena exhaled, barely managing a nod.

Then, methodically, Carter moved throughout the room, correcting, guiding — until only one student remained untouched.

Liam.

He had been silent throughout. Watching. Listening.

And Carter had no intention of guiding him.

Instead —

"Do not try."

His voice was calm, yet absolute.

Liam looked up.

"You," Carter continued, "have not even begun to learn a single element — let alone master one. Lightning is beyond you."

Silence.

"You will not attempt it. You will not waste your time — ask your classmates for notes — learn at least one element before thinking of manifesting lightning."

Then, lowering his voice, he stepped closer — his next words meant for Liam alone.

"It would be a wise choice for a mere Ninth Blaze Initiate."

Liam's breath stilled.

The words were casual. Almost dismissive.

Carter descended back to the lectern, his attention shifting away as if the conversation had already ended.

"Tell me, first-years — do you have the confidence to summon Lightning soon?"

A chorus of voices rang out in unison.

"Yes, sir!"

All except for Liam.

Carter's gaze flickered across the room, unreadable. Then he nodded.

"Good. I hope to see you follow through with your words, as I have provided you with all insights on conjuring Lightning. Make sure to follow it up with Elemental Study of Lightning — the Fifth Element."

As soon as he finished, the institute bell rang.

The class stood up in near-perfect sync.

"Thank you, Professor." The words echoed, though the exhaustion behind them was obvious.

Carter, already gathering his notes, paused at the doorway. Then — almost as an afterthought — 

"Oh, by the way."

The students froze.

"This year's Final Conjuration Exam will be personally set by me, not by the associate professors."

A wave of dread swept through the room.

"I hope you will not laze around in conjuration."

And with that, he left.

The moment the doors closed, chaos erupted.

"I KNEW IT! Ten free marks? Dream on!"

"Finals are already a nightmare — now he's setting the conjuration test himself?"

"This is so unfair! That means no easy spell demonstrations!"

"Does that mean we'll have to cast something advanced!?"

"Of course it does! Carter doesn't believe in theory-only exams!"

Groans, complaints, and outright despair filled the room. Some slumped over their desks as if physically drained. Others muttered calculations under their breath, already panicking about their odds of passing.

"I should just drop out now."

"I bet he's going to ask us to conjure a proper lightning bolt. Just to watch us fail."

Liam, however, remained silent.

He barely registered the students around him. The looming exams, the tension in the air— none of it occupied his thoughts.

Verdra — the third day of the week— meant three more classes after Conjuration.

Curses and Hexbreaking. One hour.

Ethereal Music. One hour.

Break. One hour.

Healing and Restoration. Three hours.

Liam moved through the corridors for the Combat and Physical Training Hall, indifferent to the stares that followed him.

The break between lectures was brief, but the whispers had already spread.

"Did you hear? He hasn't learned a single element."

"You're joking. A prince with no elemental affinity?"

"No, it's true. Carter outright told him not to bother with Lightning."

"So that means… he doesn't even have a primary element?"

"That's insane. Even commoners awaken at least one by the time they reach Apprentice level."

"What was he doing all these years?"

Liam ignored them.

He passed by groups of students pretending not to glance his way, their hushed voices carrying behind him.

"I almost feel bad for him."

"Don't. If he's royalty, then he has access to tutors, resources — the best of everything."

"Then why is he weaker than us?"

Liam didn't break his stride. He had no answers for them.