[Location: Arcana Antiques – Workshop, Night]
When I woke up, my first thought was that I was back in the lab.
Stone walls. Dim light. The faint smell of ozone.
Then I saw the rings of gold etched into the floor — glowing faintly like embers under glass — and the man sitting cross-legged beyond them, coat draped over a chair, eyes fixed on me like a hawk.
Balthazar Blake.
Sorcerer. Physicist's nightmare.
And apparently my saviour.
"Good," he said, not looking up from the notes spread on the desk. "You're conscious. I was wondering if I'd have to bury you in the morning."
"Thanks," I croaked. My throat felt like sandpaper. "Glad I could save you the trouble."
He glanced up then, one eyebrow raised. "You nearly burned yourself out. I've seen unstable mana before — apprentices who pushed too far — but whatever you're carrying isn't like anything I've encountered."
I looked down at my hands. The faint blue lines under my skin pulsed softly, like living circuitry. "Yeah," I muttered. "I get that a lot."
Balthazar rose, crossing the room with that calm precision that made even standing look deliberate. "What happened to you?" he asked.
I hesitated. The memory came in flashes — white light, alarms, glass shattering. The feeling of being unraveled and reassembled somewhere else.
"I was part of an experiment," I said finally. "Energy containment. They called it quantum field harmonization."
His eyes narrowed. "Quantum?"
"Yeah," I said, forcing a shaky breath. "They tried to compress energy beyond stable thresholds — a fusion between electromagnetic potential and biological systems. It went wrong. The containment failed."
"And you survived," Balthazar said, studying me.
"Not sure that's the right word," I muttered. "I think the energy fused with me. It reacts to thought, emotion — probability even. It's not mana, not in the way you use it. It's something else."
Balthazar folded his arms. "You're telling me your body generates an entirely new energy form. That's… ambitious."
"I don't generate it," I said, shaking my head. "I regulate it. It's already there, somewhere. I just— tap into it. If I push too much, it builds until it tears through me."
Balthazar's expression softened slightly. "And yet, you lived long enough to make a mess of my rooftop."
I managed a weak grin. "Occupational hazard."
He studied me for a long moment, then gestured toward the glowing circles around me. "These are Merlin Circles — stabilizers. They align mana within a body, channel it through structure instead of chaos. When I found you, your energy was fighting itself. I just… gave it boundaries."
"So, you basically saved me with geometry."
He allowed himself a small smile. "Magic is geometry that obeys."
He reached for a small brass ring on the desk and tossed it lightly in my direction. "Put this on."
I caught it, turning it in my fingers. Symbols ran along the inside — looping, interlocking. "What is it?"
"Focus ring. It helps direct energy flow. Without one, beginners tend to… explode."
"Good to know." I slid it onto my hand. It fit perfectly, a faint warmth spreading through my palm.
"Now," he said, pacing back. "Close your eyes. Breathe. Feel for the current inside you. Don't control it — observe it."
I did as he said. At first, there was nothing. Then a pulse — faint, rhythmic, like a heartbeat made of light.
"Good," Balthazar murmured. "Now, guide it through your arm. Into the ring."
The moment I tried, the pulse surged.
Blue light flickered under my skin, racing toward my fingertips. The ring glowed, then sparked — a sharp crack that made both of us flinch.
"Damn," I hissed. Smoke curled from my palm.
Balthazar waved away the haze, inspecting the mark on the stone floor. "Fascinating. It's not raw mana. It's… structured. Predictive."
I frowned. "Predictive?"
He nodded slowly. "It doesn't flow with intent. It anticipates it. Like it's… analysing what you mean to do before you do it."
I thought about that. It made a kind of sense. "Quantum probability fields respond to observation," I said quietly. "Maybe this energy works the same way. It aligns with expectation."
He smirked. "So if you expect disaster…"
"…I get an explosion," I finished.
For the first time since the experiment, I laughed — quietly, tiredly, but real.
Balthazar smiled faintly. "Well, you've got potential. And a very inconvenient power source. I can work with that."
He gestured toward the glowing circle around me. "Rest for now. Tomorrow, we'll see if that 'Quantum Mana' of yours can learn to behave like a proper sorcerer's magic."
I nodded, feeling exhaustion pull me under again.
As the light dimmed and the workshop blurred around me, I caught one last glimpse of Balthazar turning back to his notes, muttering under his breath:
"Quantum Mana… now that's new."
🜂 End of Chapter 3 — The Flow of Power