The Road to Mastery

Lucien sat at his desk, ignoring the hostile stares burning into his back. The classroom buzzed with whispers, most of them aimed at him.

"Why is he still here?"

"He's a disgrace. A noble only in name."

"I heard Lady Cecilia's been humiliated because of him."

Lucien sighed and rubbed his temples. His situation had only gotten worse since the incident with Leon and Cecilia. It seemed the entire student body had decided he was public enemy number one.

[Congratulations! You're officially the most hated person in school. Shall I prepare your award?]

"Shut up, Ignis," Lucien muttered under his breath.

"Mr. Von Zephyr," the professor snapped from the front of the room. "Perhaps you'd like to share your brilliant insight with the rest of us?"

Lucien froze. "Uh… I was just… thinking about the lesson?"

The professor's eyes narrowed. "Then answer this: What is the primary weakness of fire magic in prolonged combat?"

Lucien straightened. This was something he actually knew. "Fire magic consumes a lot of mana, so without proper control and efficiency, a mage can exhaust themselves too quickly."

The professor raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Correct. Maybe you do have a brain after all."

The snickers around him only grew louder.

[It's okay, champ. You'll win them over eventually. Or not.]

Lucien slumped in his seat, already dreading the rest of the day.

—

After class, Lucien made his way to the training grounds where Professor Aldric was waiting. The older man watched him approach with a critical eye.

"So you want to master your fire magic," Aldric said. "Ignis is powerful—but without discipline, it'll burn you out faster than your enemies."

Lucien nodded. "I understand. I'm ready to learn."

Aldric's lips curled into a faint smirk. "We'll see about that. Start by summoning Ignis."

Lucien extended his hand, and flames flickered to life in his palm. He focused on keeping them steady, but they wavered with every slight shift of his concentration.

"Pathetic," Aldric said bluntly. "Your control is weak. Your focus is scattered. If you tried this in a real battle, you'd be dead before you could cast a second spell."

Lucien gritted his teeth. "Then teach me."

"First lesson: Control." Aldric raised his own hand, and a small, perfect sphere of flame hovered above his palm. "Make your fire take this shape and hold it without flickering."

It sounded simple. It wasn't.

Two hours later, Lucien's arms ached, his head throbbed, and his fire still refused to behave. But he didn't give up.

[Look at you! I'm so proud. You're failing spectacularly.]

"Not helping," Lucien growled.

"Again," Aldric ordered.

—

By the time his private training ended, Lucien was exhausted—but his day wasn't over yet. Aeris was waiting at their usual sparring spot, her wooden sword resting on her shoulder.

"You look like death," she observed. "Perfect. Let's begin."

Lucien barely had time to raise his sword before she was on him. Their sparring matches had become a daily routine—and even though he still lost more often than not, he was getting faster. Stronger.

"You're improving," Aeris admitted after their third round. "But not fast enough."

Lucien wiped sweat from his brow. "Then hit me harder."

Aeris grinned. "Don't tempt me."

As they clashed again, Lucien felt the weight of every hateful glare, every whispered insult from his classmates. It didn't matter. He'd prove them all wrong.

He'd survive. He'd grow stronger.

And one day… they'd regret ever looking down on him.