“Yes, ma’am—though I do have several letters of recommendation from the scholars leading my current courses,” I said, offering the woman several sheathes of parchment.
The High Scholar accepted them, reading through with pursed lips.
“It would appear you are quite advanced for your levels, Miss Asher. Tell me, have you considered reaching out to Lady Frey?”
“I have,” I lied smoothly.
This wasn’t the first time I had been pestered about this. Quite a few of my professors had made the same suggestion already, heavily encouraging me to reach out to the High Scholar of Light for mentorship to hone and elevate my skills, claiming that I was already displaying “incredible promise”, that I was performing “well beyond the expectations of a first year.”
While I had flushed at the praise, I wasn’t sure that sort of encouragement would be enough to get me to swallow my nerves and approach the illustrious Lady Frey, because truth be told?
That woman scared the shit out of me.
Theia Frey—High Scholar of Light here at the Arcane Studium, and the current leader of the House of Light & Shadow—was arguably one of the most powerful Conduits of our lifetime.
According to the bits and pieces of gossip I’d heard around the city, her power was rivaled only by the Lord de Laurent of the House of Embers. Apparently, the two had never been at odds and actually maintained a strong alliance through the years, so it was hard to make a determination on who would win out if they were to go head to head.
I wouldn’t really know, I hadn’t ever met either of them. I also wasn’t particularly motivated by the notion of doinggreat things.
It wasn’t that Ididn’twant to contribute to Sophrosyne or make Atlas a better place… I loved my home. Of course I wanted to contribute to our growth, to the best of my ability. Of course I wanted to hone my skills. But it wasn’t until that day I watched Kieran, Jeremiah, and Hans run through those training drills that I ever really found myself interested in the notion ofpower…
I had always craved skill. Expertise. Knowledge. But I’d never particularly covetedpower…until I realized that it takes power to protect what you love.
“I don’t believe I’m quite ready, though,” I continued. “I wouldn’t want to waste her time, which is why I would like to try out a higher level course before reaching out for mentorship.”
The scholar nodded in clear approval.
“Excellent,” she said. “Most excellent. In that case, let us proceed with your exam.”
One of the things that made arcana such a complex science was that it required quite a few different skills to be honed and utilized at once. You needed to implement power, concentration, and finesse—all in perfect balance.
Over time, my clumsy renderings of glowing Light became more refined, but I was still breaking a sweat trying to follow the High Scholar’s instructions.
“There are many ways that arcana can be weaponized, should you ever need to protect yourself,” she had explained. “The most basic of which would be creating and using anaetherblade. That is what you’ll be starting off with in these courses—a basic blade and shield of Light. The first portion of the entry exam will be the formation of the blade.”
Step by step, she ran me through the process of summoning and shaping a tangible, aetheric weapon. The first summoning felt almost like a pottery lesson. Like I was building a dagger out of clay.
She had placed a basic, steel dagger in front of me as an example.
“As you draw upon the Light, Arken, I want you to mold the weapon in your hand. Form the pommel first, followed by the grip.”
I was able to follow her instructions with some concentrated effort, but the precision required was… intense.
“Yes, good,” she encouraged. “Make sure the cross-guard is well sized with your own hand. You don’t need to mirror the example quite so exactly.”
Okay, I understood the need for these entry exams now. This shit washard.
My aether felt stretched thin as I focused on far more minute details than I had ever summoned before. I extended the fuller out a few inches, shaping the point before attempting to carve out a sharper edge on either side.
Why was a small blade so much harder than a fox?
I hadn’t realized that I murmured that last part out loud until the scholar answered.
“It’s because of the more corporeal nature of the blade, Miss Asher. You are summoning something that, once complete, will be able to pierce nearly anything with enough force. Also, the aether of a mail sprite will dissipate during travel and reform at the site of the aetheric signature you select. If you were to throw this blade, it would remain in existence until you consciously release the arcane energy back into the aether.”
“Interesting,” I murmured, wiping a small amount of sweat from my brow.
“Believe it or not, you’re doing quite well. The first summon is the hardest, and it will come much easier each subsequent time. Your aether will remember the shape you are trying to create, unless you choose to alter it.”