The walk to the dorms was pure agony. Not because of anything Lucien said—he barely spoke at all—but because of the sheer, miserable silence that hung between them.
Lucien strode ahead without glancing back, his posture tense and rigid. Ethan followed like a lost puppy, trying not to trip over his own feet while his brain kept replaying the last hour on a horrified loop.
He'd nearly died.
Lucien had nearly killed him.
And Ignatius had... saved him, then laid down the law with the kind of authority that made Ethan's skin crawl.
When they finally reached the dorm building for first-year students, a towering structure of stone and glass, Ethan's entire body sagged with relief. He'd been here before, but after everything that happened, he hadn't even been sure if he could find his way back.
Lucien stopped just before the entrance, his back still turned. "This is the place. First-year dorms. You should be able to find your room from here."
His tone was clipped, distant, like he was already halfway to leaving. Ethan couldn't exactly blame him.
"Uh, thanks," Ethan said awkwardly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lucien turned to leave, but then hesitated. For a moment, it looked like he was wrestling with himself. And then, in a voice that was almost too quiet to hear, he said, "And... thanks. For, you know... what you did back there."
The words sounded like they physically hurt him to say.
Before Ethan could even process the unexpected show of gratitude, Lucien's eyes hardened with determination.
"Anyway... I've got more training to do. Sitting around isn't going to get me anywhere." His voice was gruff, like he was trying to cover up his earlier moment of vulnerability.
And before Ethan could say anything else, Lucien was already striding off down the hall, his footsteps echoing until he rounded a corner and vanished.
"Yeah... you're welcome, I guess?" Ethan whispered, more to himself than anyone else. His voice was still shaky, his nerves stretched thin.
But at least he made it back.
Ethan pushed the door to his room open and nearly tripped over his own feet.
The place was spotless. Beds made, desks cleared, and everything arranged almost too neatly. The only hint of his presence was the bag he'd left under his bed and a stray piece of parchment on the desk.
He blinked, his mind still fuzzy from the mess of emotions twisting inside his chest. Did they... come back and clean up or something?
It was the only explanation that made sense. The room had been messy when he left that morning, thanks to his less-than-tidy roommates. But now, everything was organized. Like someone had taken the time to make the place presentable again.
Ethan shrugged off the weirdness of it all and collapsed onto his bed, his body sinking into the mattress like it was made of clouds. His muscles ached, his head throbbed, and his nerves were still buzzing from everything that had happened.
But he couldn't relax.
Ethan sat on his bed, staring at his open palm like the answers would just magically appear if he glared hard enough. His fingers trembled slightly, his nerves still shot from everything that had happened today.
But his mind wouldn't stop racing.
The way Ignatius had cast that spell, how the wind itself had bent to his will with nothing but a few words and sheer mastery. It wasn't just power. It was control.
Control. That was the entire point of Gale Rend.
He'd created the spell as one of the foundational techniques for the world's magic system. Something that was supposed to teach mages how to manipulate and shape mana into physical form. And he'd designed it to be flexible. A spell that could be adapted and enhanced as the user's understanding grew.
In the stories he wrote, students who learned Gale Rend used it to redirect attacks, enhance their own physical abilities, or even manipulate the air to defend themselves against stronger spells.
But it all started with the same basic principle: Focus the air into an orb, compress it with mana, and guide it like a natural extension of the body.
Easy to write. Not so easy to actually do.
Ethan closed his eyes, taking a slow, shaky breath. His fingers curled into his palm, feeling the familiar hum of mana drifting through his veins.
"Just... focus," he muttered to himself. "Don't force it. Guide it."
His breathing steadied, the sound of his heartbeat dulling to a distant thrum. He let his mind settle into the image he'd been clinging to since he saw Ignatius cast the spell.
A sphere of air, held in place by his own will.
Ethan tried to visualize the way the air would gather, how the currents would twist and coil into a single point. The trick was to let the mana shape the air naturally, not force it into place.
He could feel the mana collecting in his palm, swirling gently beneath his skin.
"Gale Rend."
The words left his mouth like a steady exhale, his voice calm and clear.
And for a moment, something happened. A faint, subtle pressure formed above his hand. Like a gentle breeze that was trying to form into something more. But it was weak. Barely noticeable. And it faded just as quickly as it appeared.
Ethan opened his eyes and stared at his palm, his frustration gnawing at him. "Dammit..."
He'd felt it. The potential was there. But the execution was garbage.
"Alright. Alright. Just... do it again. It's supposed to be simple."
He closed his eyes once more, trying to drown out the doubt clawing at his thoughts. Focus. That was all he needed. Focus and control.
The mana in his veins thrummed softly, like a river of energy waiting to be tapped into. This time, he didn't rush. He let the mana flow, moving along his arm and gathering in his palm.
"Gale Rend."
The air stirred, a gentle current swirling above his open hand. But it was still weak. Unstable.
He tried again. And again. Each time, the results were the same. Just a faint stirring of air that vanished almost immediately.
"Maybe I'm doing this wrong..." Ethan muttered, rubbing his temple as he struggled to remember the details he'd written.
It was supposed to be simple. A spell meant for beginners. But knowing how it worked and actually making it happen were two very different things.
He thought back to how he wrote the spell. The entire idea behind Gale Rend was to create a conduit of air. Something that would act as a focus point for the user's mana. But the key was to allow the air to flow naturally, not just try to grab it and force it into place.
It was like trying to catch water in your hands. If you squeezed too tightly, it just slipped away.
"Alright, alright. Think, damn it." Ethan clenched his fists, his frustration building. "What else did I write about this stupid spell?"
His own words echoed in his head, memories of nights spent typing away, refining the details of the magic system until it made sense. Until it felt real.
Gale Rend was designed to be the simplest of wind spells. A basic technique that focuses on control rather than raw power. The orb acts as a medium, allowing the user to guide the wind currents with precision.
The key to mastery is not just power, but balance. Letting the air flow through you, not against you.
He opened his hand again, his fingers slightly curled. This time, he didn't try to force the mana to shape itself. He let it flow naturally, guiding it like a gentle stream rather than a roaring fire.
"Gale Rend."
The words came out softer this time. More like a request than a command.
And this time, he felt it.
The air began to gather, swirling softly above his palm. A small orb of air flickered into existence, barely the size of a marble. But it was there. And it was real.
Ethan's eyes snapped open, his breath catching. "Holy crap..."
He could feel it. The gentle pressure of the wind currents swirling within the sphere. The mana he was directing wasn't just dissipating into nothingness. It was holding together, responding to his will.
But it was fragile. Unstable. The tiniest mistake would cause it to collapse.
His fingers trembled, his mind racing with the effort of maintaining the spell. He tried to move the orb, guiding it just an inch to the left.
It worked. But only for a second.
The sphere popped, the air dispersing in a sudden rush of wind that rattled the papers on his desk and sent a couple of books tumbling to the floor.
Ethan groaned, his shoulders slumping as the spell broke apart. But even with the failure, he couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement.
He'd done it. Even if only for a moment, he'd actually done it.
"Okay... so I can make it happen," Ethan said, his voice shaky but triumphant. "Just need to figure out how to keep it stable."
But knowing it was possible made all the difference.
This time, he wasn't trying to force his mana to do something unnatural. He was letting it flow, directing it instead of commanding it.
"Alright. Let's try that again."
Ethan's pulse raced with a mix of excitement and frustration. He'd made it work—just for a moment. But it had still been something real. Something he'd managed to conjure from nothing but mana and determination.
And that meant it was possible.
"Just keep it stable," he whispered, his hands trembling slightly as he held them out in front of him. "Don't force it. Just... guide it."
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Letting his thoughts fall away until only the gentle hum of mana remained. The energy within him felt like a steady river, waiting to be shaped.
"Gale Rend."
The words left his mouth in a calm, controlled tone. And once again, he felt the air shift.
A small orb of air formed above his palm, swirling gently in a tight spiral. It was weak and fragile, but he could feel it. His mana was holding it together, allowing the air to take shape.
He stared at the orb, his breath caught somewhere between shock and relief. "Okay... so far so good."
This time, he focused not just on creating the orb but on continuously feeding his mana into it. Keeping the flow steady, like a gentle stream rather than a burst of energy.
His heart pounded in his chest as he focused, feeling the way the air seemed to pulse and respond to his guidance. The orb was still small, but it was growing stronger.
"Alright... move," he whispered, willing the orb to drift to the left.
It obeyed. Slowly, shakily, but it moved. The air currents coiled around his fingers like invisible threads, pulling the sphere along with a softness that almost felt natural.
A grin crept across his face, his confidence swelling. "Okay. I think I've got this."
He shifted his hand, making the orb drift to the right. This time it moved a little faster, the air swirling with more strength. His mana was still flowing, guiding the spell rather than trying to force it into place.
But he wasn't satisfied yet. The orb was weak. Small. And he could feel his mana leaking from it like water dripping from a cracked bottle.
If he was going to make this work, he needed to make the spell stronger. More stable.
Ethan closed his eyes, steadying his breathing. His hands trembled with excitement and nerves. He could feel the mana flowing through him, a raw power waiting to be shaped.
He gathered his focus, pulling more energy into his palm. But this time, he didn't just let the air twist and swirl aimlessly. He shaped it. Compressed it. Willed it to respond to his command.
"Gale Rend."
The words came out clear, calm, and filled with intention.
The air exploded into motion.
A powerful orb of swirling wind burst into existence above his palm, its currents coiling with force and precision. The sphere was far larger than his previous attempts—nearly the size of his head—and the air around it seemed to hum with energy.
Ethan's eyes snapped open, his breath catching. "Holy crap..."
This was it. The real deal. The air wasn't just some weak, flimsy breeze. It was a controlled storm, compressed and contained within his grasp.
He could feel the mana flowing through the sphere, maintaining its structure and keeping it from falling apart. And the longer he kept his focus, the more stable it became.
"Alright... move," Ethan whispered, his voice trembling with excitement.
The orb glided to the left, responding instantly to his will. Then to the right. Up. Down. It was like wielding a tool he'd spent years perfecting, except this was his very first time getting it right.
The air twisted around his fingers, its currents strong enough to stir the papers on his desk and ruffle his hair. It felt... alive.
But the longer he maintained the spell, the more strain he felt building in his chest. His mana was pouring out, feeding the swirling storm in his hand. And the more power he fed it, the more dangerous it felt.
He needed to release it. To let the energy disperse before he lost control.
But instead of releasing it properly, he tried to set the orb down on his desk. A mistake.
The moment his focus wavered, the sphere burst apart with a violent surge of air.
A shockwave tore through the room, the air blasting outward like a cannon.
Papers flew everywhere, the stack of books on his desk toppled over with a deafening crash, and his sheets were flung into the air like some kind of twisted magic trick.
Ethan stumbled backward, his eyes wide, his breath ragged. "Holy... Okay. Not what I was going for."
The air still felt heavy, the remnants of his own spell buzzing like static in the room.
But even through the mess he'd just created, he couldn't help but feel elated.
It worked. For real this time. And he'd felt the power, the precision, the control.
He was still grinning like an idiot when the door suddenly swung open.
Two boys stood in the doorway, eyes wide as they took in the chaos.
"What the hell happened in here?!" one of them shouted, his scruffy hair and scowl making him look like he was ready to punch something.
The other one, taller and calmer but no less shocked, looked at Ethan like he was some sort of deranged beast. "We leave for a class, and the place turns into a disaster zone?"
Ethan's face went crimson. "Uh... I was... practicing?"
The scruffy-haired guy let out a strangled groan, rubbing his temples like he was fighting off a headache. "Practicing what? Blowing the place to hell?"
"I—I was just trying to practice a wind spell..." Ethan trailed off, his words crumbling under the weight of his own embarrassment.
The taller one let out a sigh, his gaze still fixed on the absolute mess Ethan had made. "Seriously? You're trying to learn something like that in a cramped dorm room? You've got a death wish or something?"
Ethan stared at the mess around him, his triumph crumbling into pure mortification.
He really, really should've thought this through.