I stood in front of the Anya room, staring at its closed door while waiting for George.
He was supposed to be here a while ago, but he was a little late. The minutes passed slowly, and every second increased my irritation, especially with the cold morning air that began to seep into my body. I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to endure it, until I suddenly lifted my head when I spotted him coming from the other end of the corridor.
I took a deep breath.
Finally… he's here.
I had already begun to feel bored, but I hid it well. When he got closer, he raised his hand slightly and said in an apologetic tone:
"I'm sorry for being late. I got a bit busy because of what happened at the academy recently."
I replied quickly, as if I hadn't been waiting at all:
"It's fine. I didn't wait long."
That wasn't true, of course. In reality, I had been here for quite some time, but I deliberately lied. George is overly disciplined—he hates being late as if it were an unforgivable sin. If I told him that I'd been waiting for a long time, he would immediately suggest postponing the training to another time. His personality is strange, so I had no choice but to go along with it.
He stopped for a few seconds as if thinking, then said:
"Alright. Let's waste less time. Let's go in."
I nodded in agreement and followed him.
The moment the door opened, my body trembled involuntarily.
The Anya… was there.
Huge. Dense. As if it filled the room simply by existing. Its pressure was suffocating— even the air felt heavier than usual.
I exhaled slowly.
Honestly… I don't think I'll ever get used to this feeling.
George noticed my reaction, turned to me, and asked:
"Haven't you felt Anya before? I mean… during the last time we trained."
I nodded:
"Yes."
He looked at me carefully before saying seriously:
"Then try to extract it."
A short silence fell between us. I remained standing in place, staring into empty space without moving. After a moment, I said hesitantly:
"I don't know how to do that."
If I knew how, I wouldn't have asked for your help in the first place. But I couldn't say that out loud, so I swallowed my words and stayed silent.
George sighed lightly, then said:
"Alright… tell me. Do you still feel the same sensation you felt last time?"
After thinking, I answered:
"Yes. Almost the same feeling."
He nodded and said:
"Good. Go and sit there."
He pointed toward the center of the room, where the Anya was especially concentrated. I walked forward slowly and sat where he indicated, while his eyes followed me without missing a single movement.
He said in a calm but firm voice:
"Close your eyes."
I did as he ordered.
"Now, focus on that sensation in your chest."
I began to focus. Little by little, I felt something strange but comfortable.
He continued:
"Try to guide that sensation into your magical energy pathways. Imagine it moving, flowing inside you."
I tried to follow his instructions, but it wasn't easy. I focused harder, tensed myself, yet nothing happened. Every time I tried, it felt as if there was a barrier stopping me.
Then I heard his voice again:
"Imagine that you're doing it inside your mind."
I shut my eyes tightly and began to imagine.
Gradually, my awareness of the surroundings faded. I could hear nothing but my own breathing.
I opened my eyes quickly, as if I were pulled out from deep concentration.
The first thing I felt was the cold seeping into my skin, and then I immediately realized why.
My clothes were wet.
I glanced downward for a moment, then slowly raised my head. Before I could fully understand what was happening, my breath caught.
In front of me, I saw a transparent black thread gently wavering in the air. I stopped breathing for a few seconds, staring at it in disbelief, as if afraid it would disappear if I blinked.
But it didn't.
Only then did I realize it… I had succeeded.
Then a wave of overwhelming happiness swept over me, a feeling I couldn't stop. It wasn't just fleeting joy—it was a sense of victory, as if I had finally crossed a barrier that had been blocking me from the beginning. I smiled unconsciously, and the feeling of achievement was so overwhelming that I forgot everything else.
But George's voice pulled me back to reality.
He said in a stern tone, devoid of any compliment:
"Why are you this happy? It took you a whole hour."
I hesitated for a moment, then said honestly:
"But I did it… isn't that important?"
He looked at me and replied coldly:
"If this were a real battle, do you think your enemies would wait for you until you finish?"
A short silence followed. I couldn't find a single word to respond.
Then I heard his voice again, firmer this time:
"In the next training session, you must do it within five minutes. Otherwise… I'll end your training."
I froze in place, as if the words had paralyzed me.
"Five minutes? Isn't that too short?"
He looked at me with a frightening gaze that made me swallow hard, then said coldly:
"You're very late in learning Anya. At your age, you should be able to extract it in an instant."
I fell silent for a moment, feeling the weight of his words press heavily on my chest.
Then he suddenly added, as if testing me:
"Are you really Arketh's son?"
He didn't give me a chance to answer. After a moment, he said:
"Alright… it doesn't matter."
Then he turned around and left the room, leaving me standing there alone.
…
Rustle… rustle…
The sound of the spoon scraping against the side of the bowl filled the small kitchen—a simple sound, yet strangely comforting.
I was baking a cake.
My face was smeared with flour and dough, and even my hands were a mess. I didn't care much; the mess was part of the fun.
I was doing this for my group.
Some might say, "Why bother? You can just buy one. Are you stupid?"
But I didn't see it that way. I like to cook everything myself. There's a special feeling when you make something with your own hands—something money can't buy.
Mix… mix…
I sped up the stirring slightly, feeling the heaviness of the batter resisting me. Its warm, familiar scent began spreading through the room, calming my chest without me noticing.
I took a deep breath.
This wasn't just a cake.
It was also… something that might save my life.
I stopped stirring for a moment, staring into the bowl as if seeing it for the first time. A strange thought, right? That something so simple could be the difference between life and death. The thought made me laugh softly.
"Ugh…"
I lifted the bowl and looked at my reflection on its metallic surface. I looked ridiculous—flour on my cheeks, messy hair, and an overly serious expression for… a cake.
I couldn't hold it in.
"Heh…"
I laughed quietly…
I really was a genius…
I returned to stirring, my smile still on my face.