The morning light filtered softly through the high windows of the training hall, dust motes floating lazily in the still air. The room felt smaller somehow, more intimate, as if the magic within it had thickened overnight.
Vaelen stood at the center, his dark robes moving with calm precision. Behind him, the familiar chalkboard was covered with complex diagrams—circles within circles, intersecting lines of mana, and cryptic symbols that pulsed faintly in blue ink.
"Today," Vaelen announced, voice steady and low, "you will take the first step beyond your personal tune. You will begin shaping magic."
I exchanged a glance with Riken and Vell, both wearing their own mix of excitement and nerves. We had mastered the hum—the personal resonance that marked us as magic-born. But shaping magic into anything real was a different challenge altogether.
Vaelen gestured to a shallow stone basin on the floor, filled with water.
"The simplest spell is the Spark," he explained. "A controlled release of energy. It's a test of your ability to focus your will and resonate outward."
He crouched beside the basin and traced a glowing rune onto its surface. "You will not create fire yet—only the energy. Think of it like coaxing a single note from silence."
Riken scratched his head, smirking. "A fancy way to say 'make a tiny spark,' huh?"
Vell rolled his eyes but gave a small grin. "Better than failing spectacularly."
Vaelen ignored the banter. "Focus on your tune. Let it flow through you like a river. Don't force it. Humming the tone in your mind, even if you hear nothing, is key."
He stepped back and gave each of us a pointed look.
"Remember, magic is not a weapon. It is an extension of your being. Control comes from understanding, not brute force."
I took a deep breath, palms sweating slightly, and knelt beside the basin. Closing my eyes, I summoned the hum inside me—steady, familiar, a gentle vibration like wind threading through leaves.
Riken muttered beside me, "If I can make a spark, I'll set the training hall on fire."
"Don't jinx it," Vell whispered back.
I focused on the water's surface, willing the resonance to reach out. For a moment, nothing. Just the soft murmur of my heartbeat.
Then—a flicker.
A faint shimmer of light danced just above the water, like the first glimmer of dawn. My breath caught. I pushed gently, letting the resonance flow into the spark, trying to keep it steady.
The light pulsed, trembling, before fading.
Vaelen nodded. "Good. You reached it. Now, hold it."
Riken's turn came next. He closed his eyes with exaggerated seriousness and muttered, "Come on, fire gods, don't let me embarrass myself."
He hummed, slower and less sure, the note wavering like a lost traveler.
Suddenly, a tiny spark burst from his fingertips, crackling faintly before vanishing.
"Hey! Did you see that?" Riken grinned, eyes wide.
Vell's jaw tightened. She settled beside him, lips pressed, and drew in a slow breath.
Her hum was steady, deep, resonant.
A flicker of silver light rose from the water and coalesced into a tiny ball, trembling but held firmly in place by her will.
Vaelen's eyes narrowed. "Impressive control."
The three of us kept practicing—sparks flickering and fading, the energy alive but delicate. Vaelen walked among us, offering quiet advice and correction.
"To command magic, you must become its conduit, not its master," he said softly. "Feel it like a breath, not a blade."
I caught Riken's eye. His usual grin was gone, replaced by fierce concentration. For once, his jokes were silent as he wrestled with the hum inside him.
Hours passed. Sweat beaded on foreheads. Fingers tingled with residual energy. And slowly, the sparks grew steadier, brighter.
At one point, Riken burst out laughing after a spark fizzled and popped too early.
"Guess I'm better at lighting fires accidentally."
Vell cracked a rare smile.
I felt it too—a flicker of joy beneath the struggle. Magic was no longer just a hum. It was something alive, fragile, and fiercely ours to command.
When the session ended, Vaelen gathered us once more.
"You have crossed the threshold," he said. "This is only the beginning. The next steps will test your will, your endurance, and your understanding."
He handed each of us a small crystal vial filled with shimmering blue liquid.
"A mana focus. Use it wisely to strengthen your tune. But beware—reliance breeds weakness."
I tucked the vial into my pack, feeling the weight of what we had begun.
Outside, the world waited. Shadows lengthened. And in the quiet, I felt the soft pulse of my magic—no longer just a tune in the dark, but a spark ignited at last.