My unexpected performance at the Elemental Gauntlet sparked a new kind of attention. The students who once openly mocked us now watched me with a blend of curiosity and wary respect. Some even tried to engage me in conversation, but I deflected them all. I wasn't here to make friends. Their sudden interest felt shallow, a mere reflection of my newfound, raw power. Eliza noticed, of course. The polite smiles she offered to those who approached her felt increasingly strained.
One afternoon, I was in the advanced spellcasting practical lab, attempting to stabilize a rudimentary energy shield. My technique was still rough, relying more on brute force and sheer will than the refined precision taught in classes. My shield pulsed erratically, threatening to collapse at any moment.
"You're fighting it."
The voice was smooth, deep, and utterly self-assured. I flinched, my shield flickering, and spun around. Standing a few feet behind me, observing with an unnerving intensity, was the magician from the stadium. His silver uniform gleamed under the lab's glowing orbs.
"It's not about forcing the energy," he continued, taking a slow step closer. "It's about guiding it. Like water."
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you want?"
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched his lips. "To observe. Your magic is... unique. Unpolished, certainly, but with a raw power I haven't seen in this academy in a long time." He paused, his gaze sweeping over my struggling shield. "My name is Cael."
Cael. The name echoed in my mind. So, that was him. The arrogant magician who had scoffed at my desperation, who had toyed with my only hope of finding my father. My distrust flared, a cold wave washing over the surprise of hearing his name.
"I don't need your help," I retorted, attempting to solidify the shield with renewed force. It buckled.
"Clearly," he said, without a hint of malice, only an irritating calm. He stepped closer, his hand subtly gesturing towards my own. "Your intent is strong, but your flow is erratic. Think of the shield not as a solid wall, but as a flexible membrane. It needs to absorb, not just repel."
He didn't touch me, but a ripple of controlled magical energy seemed to eman emanate from him, a silent suggestion. Instantly, the erratic pulsing of my shield calmed. It didn't grow stronger, but it became steady, holding its shape with surprising resilience.
I stared at my hand, then at him. He hadn't cast a spell. He had simply... influenced mine. The ease with which he did it was astounding.
"How—" I started, but he cut me off.
"There are texts in the restricted section of the library, under 'Advanced Mana Manipulation,' that could help you. They speak of a different school of thought, one that focuses on internal control rather than external incantation." He paused, his eyes holding mine. "You won't find them in the basic curriculum. Most here wouldn't understand them anyway."
He turned to leave, but stopped at the doorway. "Your determination is commendable, Kira. But raw power without refined understanding can be... destructive. For yourself, and for those around you."
With that cryptic warning, he was gone, leaving me alone with my now perfectly stable energy shield and a head full of swirling thoughts. My instinct screamed distrust. This was the man tied to the Phantasia show, the one whose arrogance had mocked my misery. Why was he helping me? What was his game?
Yet, the part of me that craved power, the part that was driven by the image of Leon's face, couldn't ignore his words. The knowledge he offered could be invaluable. It could be the key to unlocking the true strength I needed. The next day, I found Eliza watching me with a worried, almost hurt expression. She'd seen me talking to Cael. The wedge between us had just grown a little deeper.