"No fair, Julius! That's cheating — you know I can't control higher-tier spells like you!"
"Relax, my little Liriel. What? Did Mother never teach you telekinesis?" Julius grinned, fingers still curled around the pendant.
Sa'ha flushed. She hated that nickname. Give it back. That's my necklace.
A bell rang somewhere down the corridor, followed by the echo of cheering students — classes were over.
"You're in luck," Julius said, letting the pendant swing between them. "Next time you pull a stunt like faking your magic limit to beat me, you're going to pay."
"I didn't fake anything!" Sa'ha snapped.
Julius shrugged and started to turn. "You better watch your back, Liriel. I'm one of the hunters for your exam — and I'm bringing Bisky." He waved a hand as he walked away, the crowd parting around him.
⸻
Sa'ha stomped down the corridor, frustration bubbling with every step. Every step felt like an echo of Julius's smirk. I'll show him. I'll show all of them… eventually.
A faint spark of magic flickered at her fingertips, making the air shimmer for a moment before vanishing. She clenched her fists, scowling. Not now. Not in front of everyone.
"Hey, Sa'ha!" a cheerful voice called. It was Elara, one of the few students who didn't treat her like a novelty. In her hands was Sa'ha's half-broken bag. "Found this lying in the hallway. Someone was clearly in a hurry to make your day miserable."
Sa'ha blinked. "Thanks… I guess."
Elara shrugged. "No problem. Look, if you want, I can teach you a mending spell. It'll make this practically new again." She winked.
Sa'ha glanced down at the bag, seams ripped, straps fraying. That would actually help. "I'd like that… but not now. I have to deal with detention first. After my trial, I'll come find you."
Elara grinned. "Fair enough. But remember, practice makes perfect. Don't let your magic get away from you, okay?"
Sa'ha nodded, taking the bag from Elara's hands. A small pulse of warmth ran through her fingers as the bag settled in her grip — a reminder that her magic was always waiting, unpredictable and restless. "I won't."
They walked together for a few steps before Elara waved goodbye, leaving Sa'ha alone as she approached the teacher's chamber. Her chest tightened. Detention wasn't going to be fun, but at least she had a small spark of hope — a spell to learn, a friend to count on… and maybe, just maybe, a way to prove herself.
⸻
Sa'ha approached the meditation chamber — a quiet alcove tucked behind the training halls, fragrant with lavender and the faint hum of lingering magic. She spotted Master Valeir leaning on his cane, eyes closed as he balanced on one leg, a wry grin tugging at his lips.
"Late again?" he asked, voice smooth, though his cane tapped the floor lightly. "Or are you just fashionably early?"
Sa'ha flushed. "I… I'm not here because I'm in trouble."
Valeir's eyes flicked downward. "And where is that pendant of yours?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
Sa'ha's stomach sank. "I… it's… broken," she admitted quietly.
"Show me," he said gently. She lifted it from beneath her cloak, the gemstone chipped and the metal dented. Valeir took it carefully, inspecting the damage. "Hmm… not too bad, but it deserves better." With a faint touch of magic, he began repairing it, the metal smoothing and the gemstone regaining its soft glow.
"Better," he murmured, holding it up for her to see. "Your mother's work — strong, rare… beautiful. It will serve you well — if you know how to honor it." His eyes met hers, a subtle weight behind the words.
He gestured toward the cushions. "Sit, Sa'ha. Meditation. Not everyone is built to control what they feel — or the magic that follows."
She lowered herself carefully, glancing at the gentle glow of floating runes around the chamber. Her fingers twitched involuntarily — a tiny spark of magic escaped before she caught it.
"I… I don't want anyone else to see me like this," she admitted quietly.
Valeir's eyes softened. "And they won't. Here, you're just another student learning to be steady. Magic obeys the heart as much as the hand. And yours… is impatient." He tapped the cane lightly, a reminder that even the strongest must learn patience.
Sa'ha exhaled slowly, letting the warmth of his calm seep into her. Maybe I can do this.
"Focus on your breathing," Valeir instructed. "Let the chaos in your magic… settle. Don't fight it — guide it."
She closed her eyes, drawing in a slow, steady breath. At first, her magic pulsed erratically, a tiny flare escaping her fingertips before she could catch it. Valeir's calm voice guided her, each word like a tether to stillness.
"Good. Now, imagine your magic flowing like water, not fire. You are not its enemy."
Minutes passed. Her chest rose and fell, heart slowing. The spark of magic, once wild and jagged, softened, folding in on itself like a calm stream. She dared to peek at her hands — the glow was steady, quiet.
Valeir smiled, cane tapping the floor lightly. "Better."
Then, he pulled a small bundle from the corner. Sa'ha unwrapped it carefully to reveal a set of lightweight leather armor, supple and expertly crafted. "I couldn't afford this myself… nor could you," Valeir said. "It's for your upcoming trial. Light enough for movement, strong enough to protect. It will also… help prevent detection."
Sa'ha's mouth opened, shocked. "I… I can't accept this."
Valeir gave her a teasing smile. "Sometimes preparation matters more than pride. And in your case, it matters a lot."
She held the armor close, heart thumping. Not only had she calmed her magic, but she now carried a piece of her mother's legacy and a gift from her mentor — both tangible reminders that she wasn't alone, even in the challenges ahead.