Tower Lesson Begins

This was her first foray into Tower lessons, a chance to expand her knowledge in an environment free from the Academy's constraints. Perhaps, she mused silently, she'd even become strong enough—well-versed enough—to handle any future schemes from the 'family' she so desperately avoided.

With that resolve in mind, she stepped through the door into a modest classroom, awaiting whatever new knowledge the Magic Tower had to offer. The space was well-lit by simple arcane lamps mounted on the walls—no windows here, only smooth stone etched with protective runes.

A semicircle of seats faced a wide chalkboard and a runic diagram drawn in white lines on the floor. The room was modest, similar in size to the synergy classroom at the Academy, though the walls were hung with thick draperies designed to dim or alter the lighting for illusion demonstrations. A pair of arcane lamps glowed on either side of a podium, casting soft, shifting hues across the stone floor.

Inside, eight or nine people were gathered, mostly novices with wide-eyed curiosity. At the front stood a tall Mage—middle-aged, with silver-streaked hair pulled into a simple braid. She wore a deep violet robe embroidered with symbols of the arcane, and turned as Delphia slipped in. "Welcome," the woman said, her voice carrying a warm, resonant tone. "I'm Mage Lyann, and I see a new face. Please, join us."

Delphia found an unoccupied seat along the side. A few glances flicked her way—but, no one openly recognized her face here, and she preferred it that way.

Mage Lyann offered a polite nod before continuing the lesson. "As you know, arcane illusions rely heavily on mana manipulation rather than your elemental alignment—though synergy can enhance them if you choose," Mage Lyann explained, gesturing to a small chalkboard where intricate runic sketches were drawn. "These illusions often involve Light mana to create visible phenomena, or Dark mana to mask, distort, or misdirect the senses. We'll start with the simplest concept: a single point of illusory light."

She lifted a hand, forming a tiny, glowing sphere in the air. Its brightness pulsed, hovering at eye level. "This is a basic illusion anchored in Light-based arcane energy," Mage Lyann said. "It appears as real light, but you'll notice it doesn't cast shadows the way a genuine source would."

A young man in the front row leaned forward. "May I… try to touch it?"

"Be my guest," Mage Lyann said.

He reached out, passing his hand through the sphere—his fingers met no warmth or resistance. "Fascinating," he breathed.

Delphia penned a few notes. So illusions can mimic physical phenomena without substantial mass, she thought. This was both simpler and more nuanced than she'd expected.

Mage Lyann continued, "To sustain an illusion, you focus your mana into a designated shape, layering arcane runes if necessary. More advanced illusions can produce sound or partially interact with surfaces. However, that's beyond today's scope." She flicked her wrist, and the orb wavered, expanding to form a small illusory butterfly.

Gasps rose from the novices, and Delphia had to admit it looked enchanting—translucent wings fluttering as though alive. "But illusions can also draw on Dark mana to obscure or cloak reality," Mage Lyann went on. "Would anyone like to attempt a basic demonstration? I'll guide you."

Two novices volunteered, each forming a faint orb of light and shaping it into something simple—a flower and a floating wisp. When one tried to introduce a swirl of Dark synergy, the illusory shape flickered and collapsed.

Mage Lyann offered gentle corrections, explaining amplitude thresholds again. Eventually, her gaze settled on Delphia. "Would you like to try, my Lady? You're welcome to experiment, even if it's your first illusions lesson."

Delphia paused, setting down her quill. She recalled her air-element synergy from earlier at the Academy, but illusions were new territory. "I—yes, I'll try," she said, rising.

She stepped to the front, noticing how the novices parted to give her space.

"All right," Mage Lyann said warmly. "Focus on forming a small shape with Light magic, letting your mind craft its outline. We're not dealing with physical mass, so keep your mana gentle."

Delphia breathed in, summoning a modest thread of Light mana. Unlike the synergy spells she'd studied at the Academy, illusions demanded a different sort of concentration: visualizing the shape thoroughly. She pictured a simple feather, one she'd seen in drawings—soft edges, a faint glow. Her mana coalesced into a pale outline, flickering unsteadily at first, but it soon solidified into a slender, quivering feather suspended in the air.

A ripple of admiration rose among the onlookers. Delphia exhaled slowly. It felt delicate, almost dreamlike. She willed the lines to sharpen, capturing faint striations.

"Impressive for a first attempt," Mage Lyann praised. "Illusions require mental clarity. You've done quite well." Slightly emboldened, Delphia decided to refine it, adding a subtle motion as if a breeze ruffled the feather's edge. The shape fluttered, translucent but eerily believable. A hush fell.

"That's outright artistic," said one young woman, eyes wide.

Delphia let the illusion fade gently, then stepped back. She felt a mild mana drain, but not unpleasant—like drawing lines in midair. She found illusions strangely peaceful, a focus on pure imagery rather than rigid runic equations.

Mage Lyann gave an approving nod. "Excellent. That's the principle of illusions: shape, amplitude control, and mental precision. With practice, you can do much more."

Flushing with a soft sense of achievement, Delphia returned to her seat. She noted a few novices sending her respectful glances. Strange, she thought, to be viewed so kindly, free of suspicion or old assumptions. It struck her as one more reason the Magic Tower felt more inviting than the Academy at times.

For the next half hour, Mage Lyann explained illusions' theoretical framework—how layering arcs of Light or Dark synergy manipulated the senses. She gave examples of advanced illusions used in historical conflicts, from decoy armies to hidden fortresses. Delphia scribbled notes with quiet enthusiasm, drinking in the new knowledge.

Eventually, the lesson wound down.

Mage Lyann cleared the chalkboard of runic sketches with a quick sweep of mana, then turned to the class. "This is only the beginning of illusions study. If any of you wish to advance further, we host an intermediate illusions workshop in two weeks. You may sign up with the front desk. But for now, you're free to go practice on your own or request individual guidance."

A gentle wave of chatter spread as the novices began gathering their belongings. Delphia closed her notebook, satisfaction warming her chest. This short session had given her more than she'd expected—an encouraging taste of a branch of magic untouched by the Academy's usual constraints.

Mage Lyann approached her, voice hushed. "You showed real promise, Lady Delphia. If illusions interest you, I'd be happy to see you at our next workshop." She clearly recognized her face at first instance.

"I think I'll attend," Delphia said, smiling politely. "I appreciate your patience."

"Nonsense. It's what we do here—share knowledge openly." Mage Lyann gave a parting nod before turning to speak with another student.

As the small group dispersed, Delphia lingered a moment, quietly relishing this feeling of intellectual freedom. Each step in the Tower reminded her she didn't have to remain under the stifling gaze of Duchess Larissa, Lucian, or Seraphina. Here, she could learn at her own pace, forging alliances or simply staying independent as she pleased.

Delphia stepped into the corridor, the remnants of the lecture still turning over in her mind. The session had stretched just past forty-five minutes, yet she felt unexpectedly invigorated. Outside the small classroom, Elder Mage Reina waited, arms folded in a relaxed manner, her expression one of quiet expectation.

"Well?" Mage Reina prompted, one brow slightly raised.

Delphia let out a breath, allowing a rare, genuine smile to touch her lips. "Better than I'd hoped. Mage Lyann was thorough, and I appreciate how the Tower prioritizes understanding over rigid instruction."

Reina inclined her head. "Magic thrives best when allowed to breathe. Theories mean little if they cannot adapt to the wielder's hand." She gestured toward the hall. "You are welcome to wander further, should curiosity strike. Our doors do not close to those who seek knowledge."

Delphia hesitated. She could leave now, return to Vosswell Manor and slip back into the stifling routines expected of her. Or… she could stay; Absorb more. Prolong the taste of freedom she had found within these stone walls.

"Are there any other lessons beginning soon?" She asked, careful to keep her voice casual.

A glint of approval flashed in Reina's gaze. "As a matter of fact, yes. Another brief seminar on Light and Dark Synergy with locked Elements will begin in ten minutes, two floors up. It is meant for foundational study, but you may find value in observing."

A slow, quiet excitement stirred within Delphia. "That sounds perfect."

"Then let us not waste time." Reina turned with a fluid grace, already leading the way.

Delphia followed, their footsteps a steady rhythm against the worn stone stairwells. The Tower's corridors stretched ahead, filled with murmured incantations and the faint scent of old parchment and candle smoke. With each step, that familiar, pressing weight of 'home' loosened. This was what she craved—the right to choose her own path, to shape her studies as she pleased.

And perhaps, if she was bold enough, to carve out a promising future beyond the tragic fate the original Delphia had been doomed to follow.

*

The low hum of arcane discussion filled the Mage's Hub behind the doors leading to the main Atrium, an enclosed space where scholars, researchers, and seasoned spell-casters gathered between their duties.

Stacks of books hovered through the air, drifting toward their designated shelves, while enchanted quills scribbled meticulous notes at unattended desks. At the center of it all, Zypher leaned against a table, arms crossed, expression unreadable as he listened to Elder Mage Reina's report.

"She was attentive," Reina said, pulling off her gloves as she settled into the chair across from him. "Not the aimless sort who lingers to waste time. She observed with purpose and asked the right questions."

Zypher exhaled slowly, gaze flicking toward the distant entrance Delphia had disappeared through hours ago. "That is… unexpected."

Reina smirked. "Oh? I had the impression you didn't expect much of her at all."

"I expected inconsistency," he admitted. "A noblewoman's fleeting curiosity. Delphia Vosswell has never shown an interest in proper magical study before. If anything, she's made a habit of avoiding it."

Reina gave a thoughtful hum, resting her elbow on the arm of her chair. "People change, Zypher. Perhaps whatever kept her from pursuing magic before no longer holds her back."

He wasn't so sure. Change didn't come so suddenly—at least, not without reason. "Did she mention why she was here?"

"Only that she wanted to 'broaden her perspective.'" Reina's lips quirked. "A diplomatic way of saying she's dissatisfied with what she's been given."

Zypher considered that. Dissatisfied. That wasn't the Delphia he had known. The old Delphia had been defiant, reckless—lashing out at the world that sought to control her, yet never seizing true power for herself. Today though, she had stepped forward, eyes sharp with an eagerness that didn't quite match her reputation.

He ran a gloved hand along the table's surface, deep in thought. "And your assessment? Does she have potential?"

Reina gave a knowing smile. "Potential isn't the question. She has drive, and that is far rarer."

Zypher's fingers tapped against the wood, a slow, measured rhythm. "We'll see if it lasts."

Reina chuckled, standing. "Ever the skeptic." She adjusted the folds of her indigo robes. "But mark my words, Heir Thorne—if she stays, she will surprise you."

With that, she strode away, leaving him to mull over her words.

Delphia Vosswell was an enigma. One he had no intention of ignoring.

Guess I'll have to rearrange my schedule going forward… he thought to himself.