Chapter 18

The Ether twisted and churned as Damien pressed down on the mote, constricting it as he envisioned the sand growing in size. It reached the inside of his palm and floated there, unmoving. He picked up a grain of sand and placed it in his open hand.

Damien tried to urge the Ether into the grain of sand, but the energy was no longer responsive. In fact, it inched back for his chest, reluctant to leave his body.

"You're doing it wrong, and your professor didn't say everything," Henry said. "You're forcing your will over the Ether. You don't simply request it. You command it.

Requests are made by weak fools with no control over their magic. If you don't tell it exactly what to do, then your spells will be weak."

Damien swallowed. He narrowed his eyes and focused harder on the grain of sand. The Ether ventured out toward his palm. He tuned out Delph's observant gaze and tried to do as Henry instructed.

"Not enough," Henry said, his words dripping with disgust. "After all that desire to learn magic, you sit here and beg pathetically for the Ether to bend to your will.

Command it! A coward can never become a mage. If this simple spell actually causes you difficulty, I might be better off returning to the Void and finding a new host."

Damien's brow furrowed, and he bared his teeth, slamming Henry back into the depths of his mind with a blast of mental energy. The lines of Ether around Damien warped. His shadow twisted on the ground behind him, but it was so slight neither Sylph nor Delph noticed it.

The grain of sand bulged, pushing Damien's fingers back as it ballooned outward until it was the size of a small rock.

It remained that way for a few more moments before snapping back to its original form and falling to the ground.

"Color me surprised," Delph said, scratching the back of his head. "That was definitely the first time you cast that spell. It was clumsy, and you wasted a good portion of the Ether. It would be quite difficult to fake that. You really did learn a cultivation method in a single day, didn't you?"

It took Damien a moment to calm enough to answer the professor. He suppressed the fury he felt at Henry's words and nodded, forcing his face to return to a mask.

"That's what I've been saying," Damien said.

"Good. The enlarge spell isn't much more complicated than releasing the Ether normally, so feel free to practice it in your free time," Delph said, giving Damien a small nod.

"The class will be meeting normally tomorrow, but you'll receive information about that later. I expect you to continue practicing in the mornings. I'll be in touch."

He gave Sylph a small nod before wrapping his cloak around himself. It folded inwards, and he vanished, leaving them alone in the arena.

"Is everything alright?" Sylph asked, pushing away from the wall with a weary yawn.

Damien realized his hands were still clenched. He relaxed them and nodded, scooping up a small pile of sand.

"Yeah. I just got a bit distracted," Damien said. His legs felt wobbly from all the running he'd done, but at least he didn't have to drag Sylph back to the room over his back this time. "I'm going to get some breakfast before I put the rune circles on Mark and the Grays' rooms, if you want to come."

"Sure," Sylph said. The two of them slowly walked out of the arena, both doing their best to look as if they weren't one stiff breeze away from falling over. As they headed toward the mess hall, Damien reached out to the Ether surrounding them.

He ran his hand along the strands of energy like strings on a harp, syphoning it off and storing it within himself.

Once he'd gotten eight motes of energy, he raised the hand holding the pile of sand and focused on it.

The Ether resisted his will again. Damien's eyes narrowed, and he wrapped mental energy around the mote, crushing it into submission and forcing it out into the sand as he focused on his desired result.

One of the grains transformed into a large rock. Damien channeled another mote of Ether into it. The rock wavered, growing larger for an instant before it snapped back to its original form.

Damien continued testing the spell as they walked.

Sylph watched him out of the corner of her eye.

"How are you still doing that?" Sylph finally asked.

Damien glanced up from the enlarged sand. It shrunk the moment his attention left it, and he tilted his head.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been casting a spell you just learned for nearly ten minutes straight," Sylph said. "How can you still channel more Ether?"

"I've got no idea what you mean. I'm just getting more Ether from the lines."

"And you aren't getting tired?"

"Not really. Why would I be?"

Damien reached out, plucking a mote of Ether from the air as if to demonstrate his point. Sylph pursed her lips.

"That's insane. I can barely manage to get enough Ether to cast fifteen spells in an hour, but you can just keep going. How is that fair?"

"I'm making a piece of sand get bigger. You teleport around and cut things with shadows," Damien pointed out.

"I think there might be a difference there."

"Not in terms of Ether usage. My spells are more difficult than yours are, but that's a matter of skill and experience not power."

"Well, maybe you need to cast more magic?" Damien offered. "My companion said magic is just like a muscle, so maybe you just have to train yours in a different way."

"Like I haven't tried that," Sylph muttered. "But casting in a different way… Hmm. I might have been lax in my training recently. Perhaps you might be right."

Damien caused the grain of sand to expand again.

Sylph's eye twitched, and she turned away to hide her jealous expression.

When they reached the mess hall, Damien dumped the pile of sand into the dirt and brushed his hands off on his coat. The line was short, so it didn't take long for them to reach the woman with fish netted hair.

"The dumplings, please," Sylph said. "On Professor Delph's account. He owes me lunch for the rest of the year."

"Yes, he mentioned that," the woman said, jotting Sylph's request down and nodding. She glanced at Damien and raised an eyebrow.

"Free meal," Damien confirmed. She shook her head and clicked her tongue but jotted his request down regardless.

"Your loss."

After they'd found a table, Sylph raised an eyebrow at Damien.

"The free meal?"

"Food is food," Damien said with a shrug, trying to force himself to believe his words.

"Fair enough," Sylph agreed. A few minutes later, their rune circles lit up green, and their food appeared before them.

Damien's was the same slop as it had been the previous day, down to the consistency and color. Sylph had gotten a plate of three skewers of round, steaming dumplings.

The two of them eyed Damien's plate with disgust. Then Sylph grabbed her plate and moved it slightly farther down the table to keep it away from the vomit on his plate.

Damien couldn't blame her.

A thought struck him. He raised his hand over the gelatinous mixture before him, drawing on a mote of Ether and molding it to his will. He visualized the food shrinking and forced the energy into it.

The slop shrank down until it was only around the size of a single spoonful.

"Don't even think about it," Henry snapped. "That is going to expand to full size in your throat and suffocate you."

Damien sighed, allowing the food to become normal-sized again. Sylph took a slow bite out of her dumpling.

"Were you going to try to eat that while it was shrunk?"

she asked.

"What? No. I wouldn't do that," Damien muttered. "I was just practicing some more."

"I see," Sylph said, her tone making it apparent she didn't believe him for a second. "Do you want a dumpling?

It's Delph's money after all."

"A dumpling would be nice," Damien said. Before Sylph could give him one, he grabbed his plate of mush and tilted it back, scraping everything into his mouth and swallowing as quickly as he could.

He mentally thanked all the teleportation for training him on avoiding vomiting, then shuddered once it was apparent the food was going to stay down.

Sylph handed him one of the skewers, which Damien took with an appreciative smile. He took a bite out of one.

The dumplings were full of some barbequed meat he couldn't quite place. It was soft and juicy, packed with smoky flavor with just the right amount of salt to let the taste shine. Compared to the possibly sentient blob he'd eaten before, it was like biting into heaven.

The two of them finished their meal a few minutes later and headed back to the base of the mountain. Damien's legs groaned protests at him, and he could already tell he'd regret the morning's training the following day.

Sylph looked to be in better shape, but Damien spotted her hiding a pained grimace several times. The climb back up the mountain proved to be even more painful.

Damien's calves burned with every step, and by the time they'd reached their rooms, he almost let out a cry of joy.

The two of them managed to make it back to their room without falling over. Sylph peeked into the room Damien had carved while he flopped onto his bed with a groan.

"It's empty," Sylph announced, sitting on her bed and letting out a relieved sigh.

"Well, that's good," Damien said. "I would have been shocked if anyone came in after yesterday, though.

Speaking of which…" He let out a mixture of a groan and a sigh, grabbing the chalk from his pack and pushing himself upright.

"I've got to go do some interior decorations."

"Have fun with that," Sylph said, lying back in her bed.

Damien grumbled under his breath as he staggered over to Mark's room. He turned the corner and glanced inside, only to find himself only inches away from Mark's face.

Damien jumped and let out a curse.

"What are you doing?" he snapped.

"I heard you get back and figured you might be coming to draw the runes in my room," Mark said, frowning. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I— Just don't stand so close to the entrance," Damien sighed. "You'll scare someone."

Mark nodded and stepped out of the way as Damien made his way inside the other boy's room. It didn't look like he'd done much in the way of furnishing it. The room was basically identical to how Damien's room had looked before he'd started carving it.

Aside from the additions of the rugs and a sword collection on the wall, it was rather plain. Damien chose a spot near the edge of Mark's bed and took his chalk out.

After the other boy approved the location, Damien spent several minutes drawing the circle.

Once he'd finished, it lit up with a dull blue light.

Damien stood back up, groaning as his legs protested his actions once again.

"There you go," Damien said. "It should last for a week or two so long as you don't rub any of the chalk away."

"Thank you," Mark said. He grabbed a brown bundle and offered it to Damien, who almost dropped it. It was much heavier than he'd expected.

"It's authentic dire bear fur," Mark said. "Their skin is very tough, which makes it heavy. Makes for great armor, too."

"I'll keep that in mind," Damien said. "Thank you."

Mark just nodded as Damien lugged his prize back over to his room, dropping it on the ground before trudging toward the Grays' room to take care of their runes as well.

When Damien arrived, the two nobles were both busy reading books. Their room barely resembled a cave anymore. The beds had fine silk sheets embossed with flowing designs of golden thread. The floors had been covered with fancy rugs that looked much less practical than Mark's. Nolan glanced up and gave him a solemn nod.

"You've come to draw the runes?" Nolan asked formally.

"Yes," Damien said, too tired to say much more. "I'll draw them behind your bed so you can move it to block the circle, unless you've got another spot you'd prefer?"

"Perhaps near the bathroom wall?" Nolan suggested.

"It's somewhat difficult to shower without light."

Damien just nodded. He trudged over to the bathroom wall, pulling out his chalk and choosing a flat spot on the stone. It only took him a few minutes to draw the runes.

Once he'd finished, he put the chalk away and yawned, looking away from the glowing light.

"As long as you don't rub it out, it'll last a week or two," Damien said.

"Thank you," Nolan said. "I appreciate it. I apologize for invading your room last night."

The noble sent a pointed glance at his sister. She looked away from her book and reached under the bed, grabbing a thin cloth bundle to Damien. He took it, thankful it was much lighter than the rug Mark had given him.

"Thanks," Damien said. "And it's fine. Just…knock next time. Or call, I guess. We don't have a door yet."

"We will do so," Nolan promised. "Would you like to join us for dinner? Reena, Mark, and I were going to go to the mess hall together."

"I suppose that would be fine," Damien said after a few moments of thought. Nolan's face showed no evident signs of insincerity, but it had only been a few days ago the boy had completely refused to acknowledge his presence.

Damien bid them farewell and trudged back to his room.

He flopped on top of his bed without taking off his clothes.

His head hit something stuff under his pillow, and he cursed, rolling over and cradling it.

He ripped the pillow away, revealing an untitled book bound in dark leather. Still rubbing the back of his head, Damien leaned against the wall and flipped the cover open.

A small note fell out from the front page and onto his lap.

"A gift from your instructor?" Henry asked, reading it through Damien's eyes.

Apparently. Why did he have to stick it under my pillow?

"Well, it was funny," Henry said. "You might read it. It might have something I missed during my trip over. Just skim for now, though. If I know the spell, it'll be faster for me to teach you myself."

"I got one too," Sylph provided. She rubbed the side of her head. "In the same spot."

Damien rolled his eyes. The first page was blank, so he looked over the one after it. It was covered in densely packed writing detailing what appeared to be a spell that could create a small ball of light.

"Easy," Henry said. "Next."

Damien flipped the page. The spell was also based in the school of light magic. This one was meant to use a beam of concentrated light offensively. It drew a scoff out of Henry.

As he scanned through the book, the spells grew progressively more complicated.

At the same time, Henry's annoyance grew. Even when they got to invisibility spells and magic so complicated it took nearly an entire chapter just to explain it, the companion just let out an annoyed groan.

"Boring! This is all basic stuff," Henry said. "I want something new!"

This spell uses light to make an illusion so realistic it's nearly impossible to recognize its fake. How is that boring?

"I knew that spell four hundred thousand years ago," Henry said. "I don't care what it does. The problem is that it's old. I guess a few of these might be worth learning, though. I'm not a fan of creating light, but I suppose it might be useful for you."

Why don't you like it?

"I'm going to pretend you didn't ask me that," Henry said. "As a general fact, I'm more partial to removing light than creating it. I'm sure you can guess why."

Ah. Right.

"Ah. Right," Henry mimicked. "Look, that enlarge spell is interesting, but you aren't going to fight any Void denizens by making their shoes too big for them. You need to learn some offensive spells."

I'm not going to object to that.

"No, I didn't think you would," Henry said, chuckling.

"Before you start learning spells at random, you need to put some thought into what magic you want to focus on.

Light magic is mostly utility. It has offense and defense, but nothing very strong. Space magic has some very powerful offensive options, but it's going to take you a long time to learn them. It also has teleportation."

And Void magic?

"It embodies the Void. It is not like normal magic," Henry said. "There is only one Void spell, and there can never be another one."

Stop hedging at it and just tell me what it is!

"Mimicry. A trade of sorts. Void magic can take a spell, warping and improving it to its ultimate form. However, you can only use Void magic safely when you have a complete understanding of it. It is far more difficult than the other schools of magic and incredibly dangerous."

That sounds interesting. How do you know there's only one spell, though? You said you couldn't make your own magic, and I don't think humans normally get access to Void magic. So, doesn't that mean I could hypothetically make a Void spell?

"It's possible, I suppose," Henry said. "It wouldn't be easy. Void magic requires a general understanding of all magic. Spells are cast in similar ways, so with enough study, you can understand the ones from schools of magic you can't cast yourself. Making a new Void spell, though… you can imagine how difficult that would be. You'd need mastery over just about every form of magic."

Maybe I'll stick to just learning for now, then.

"Might be a good idea," Henry agreed.

It sounds like learning Void magic is going to take a very long time, and I can't exactly show that to my teachers. I'd like to learn it, but I think I should focus on Space for now.

"Agreed," Henry said. "Space magic is powerful if used correctly."

Damien sighed. He swung his feet over the edge of his bed, ignoring the pangs of discomfort that traveled up his legs and lower back, and headed into the small training room. It was far from finished, but it gave a small amount of privacy.

He set the book aside and sat, bracing his back against the wall with a relieved groan. Damien gathered his mental energy, forming the mental net and casting it out. Unlike the rest of his body, his mind still seemed to be mostly functional.

Damien gathered several motes of Ether, drawing them into himself. His limbs grew lighter, and some of the tension left his muscles.

Does the Ether somehow heal me? I feel better after drawing it in.

"Not exactly," Henry said. "It gives you a temporary spike of energy, which your body interprets as a signal to not feel pain. You aren't healed, your injuries just don't show as much. It's useful for a fight, but don't get over reliant on it."

Good to know. Now, do you have a spell I could learn that's actually cool? Making things change size is nice, but — "Hah. Bored already? Well, I suppose I can't blame you," Henry said. Damien's shadow rippled and twisted. "Give me control for a little. You'll learn much better if you can observe me casting it instead of listening to me talk about it."

Damien nodded, his consciousness slipping back as Henry took the reins. Henry had him raise his right hand and channeled two of the motes of Ether up through his arm and into his palm. As they moved, he mentally wrapped and twisted them, forming the energy into a churning ball.

As it emerged from Damien's palm, Henry used mental energy to spin it violently. A dot of gray light appeared floating in the air over his hand. It expanded outward until it was around the size of an orange, darkness swirling together with the gray in a mesmerizing pattern.

What's that?

"One of the most basic forms of offensive spells in Space magic," Henry said. "This is a Gravity Sphere."

He had Damien toss it into the center of the room. The orb froze an inch before it hit the ground, erupting outward in a wave of darkness rapidly sucked back in on itself with a silent hiss.

Damien's ears hissed as he, along with some of the dust and stone that had accumulated in the room, were sucked to the where the orb had struck. The force faded a moment later.

Henry was pushed aside as Damien's shock put his body back under his own control. There was no longer any sign of the dark orb.

"That was amazing!" Damien said aloud, his voice hushed. "Now, that's what I call magic."

"Less talking, more practicing," Henry suggested.

Damien didn't bother replying with a snide remark. He still had several motes of Ether left, so he reached out to coax them toward his arm. The first one moved as always, but the second slipped away from his grasp as if it were coated in butter.

His eyes narrowed, and he reached out toward it again, this time enveloping it in a bubble of energy to make sure there was nowhere to run. The dot of Ether moved forward, and the second one slipped back, essentially trading places.

How do I move both at once?

"You're focusing too much," Henry advised. "By trying that hard, you're telling the Ether it only needs to listen to you when you're paying it attention. You must act as if the Ether has already done what you need it to, and then it will."

That doesn't really make much sense. How can I act like it's already done what I want it to if it hasn't yet?

"Use that human imagination of yours. It can't be that hard."

Damien grumbled and returned his attention to the twin motes of Ether floating back within his chest. He nudged them again, visualizing them both flowing down his arm and twisting into the same churning orb Henry had made.

The Ether wiggled a little, but nothing else happened.

It's not working.

"Only because you refuse to believe it will. You are trying instead of doing. This spell isn't difficult," Henry chided Damien. "You could cast this, and many other spells, on your first try. The hard part is getting the Ether to flow in the way you want it to. Your belief that you need to practice before it works correctly is hindering you. The Ether flows according to your commands, and you believe you will fail."

You're saying I can cast this spell perfectly if I just think I can?

"You 'can' cast the spell," Henry corrected. "Not perfectly. Your understanding of the spell is unlikely to be complete, so you will attempt to cast the spell you visualize, which may or may not be the true essence of the spell you're going for. It will execute to the best of the Ether's abilities based off the way you cast it, but that doesn't mean it's perfect. Do you understand?"

I think I do, actually. So, if I cast the spell, I cast the best version of what I'm trying to do, not the objective best possible outcome.

"That is a bastardized, yet fundamentally correct, version of what I said," Henry allowed. "So, what are you waiting for? If you agree it should simply cast when you will it, then do it!"

Damien nodded. He raised his hand, copying the form Henry had done. Instead of corralling the Ether, he tried sending a silent command. Damien envisioned the ball of churning gray and black energy appearing above his palm as if it had already happened.

It was a subtle difference, but magic was made in the details. Damien's ears popped as energy collected above his hand, and a twisting ball of darkness twisted to life.

"Did you envision the correct thing?" Henry asked. "I didn't get everything, but some of your thoughts seemed—" Damien tossed the ball into the center of the room. Just like Henry's attempt, it expanded outward before collapsing into a tiny mote of light. Then it deviated.

Instead of a subtle pop, a loud gale howled into the small room.

The blot of darkness warped the air immediately around it, sucking everything straight into it. Damien skidded across the floor as dirt and dust slammed into the orb of magic, forming a shell around it.

Damien tried to breathe in, but the air slipped away from his lungs. Before he could panic, the Ether within the spell spent itself. The orb faded, and he drew in a deep breath as the dirt collapsed to the ground.