A New Status Quo

The weeks following the tournament passed in a blur of recovery and isolation for Kieran. The infirmary had been his home for the first week, with Madam Reeves monitoring his condition with hawk-like vigilance. The second and third weeks had been spent in his quarters, allowed only the most basic physical movement, his magical core a fragile thing slowly knitting itself back together.

By the fourth week, Kieran had been permitted to attend classes again, though with strict instructions to observe only, not to participate in any practical exercises. It had been frustrating, watching others practice techniques he could only study in theory, but he'd used the time to observe, to learn the patterns and flaws in others' casting.

And now, finally, after six long weeks, Madam Reeves had declared him fit to resume normal activities—though with a warning look that promised dire consequences should he push himself too hard again.