I checked my appearance in the mirror one last time, briefly pushing my hair back and frowning. It was getting longer, starting to hang in my eyes, and if I were home, Girem would have my ass by now. He preferred short, neat haircuts, feeling they reflected the sort of appearance an advisor should keep.

Then again, Girem was not here, so I shrugged and exited my room, weaving through the crowds already in the hallways. It was strange, seeing dozens of other apprentices walking around on their way to the first class of the year.

I realized I hated it. The noise set my teeth on edge, and more than once, a stray arm bumped me to one side. Already, I missed the quiet solitude of the summer month, when I could go hours without seeing another apprentice.

As with all first-years, my first class was Magic Theory with a Master Clemons. I was not looking forward to it and worried the first few weeks would be mostly review. If Master Julian spoke the truth, we would focus on mana gathering and so on, skills I had already learned. Granted, maybe Clemons could offer tips to improve, but still.

The classroom was U-shaped, with tiered seats leading down to an open space with several blackboards. It reminded me of a standard lecture hall, one designed so that anyone could see and hear the speaker.

Sophia sat alone at a desk near the back, a book in her hands as she ignored everything around her. We had barely spoken, and she looked about as interested in socializing as usual, but I decided it was better to stick close to her than a stranger. I flashed her a brief smile as I sat next to her, and she favored me with a single eyebrow raise and nod before returning to her reading.

The class slowly filled, the rest of the apprentices barely glancing at me, and soon enough, a rotund man made his way to the front of the room. He wore the robes of a master and looked around the room with a soft, almost placid expression.

"Good morning, apprentices. My name is Master Clemons, earth mage and instructor in Magic Theory. Over the following months, I will take you through the basics of magic, specifically how mana with our bodies and spell crafting as a whole. But to do that, we must start at the beginning. Please, turn your attention to the board behind me."

I hid a frown, a bit of worry rising, and soon enough, I found my concerns justified. Clemons said little I did not already know, thanks to my previous studies, though I did learn that mages used early, mid, late, and peak to estimate progress in each rank. For instance, a mid-Vapor mage is around halfway to Haze, and a late-Haze is three-quarters to Mist.

Near the end of class, Clemons finished by handing out booklets for Origin Breathing. I accepted with a polite smile, slipping it into the bag by my side and having a private laugh. My other copy was already inside, notes from previous attempts and theories on improving it written in my neat handwriting.

Beginner Spellcrafting with Master Merton was next, held in a similar room to the first. Merton, a woman in her late thirties with a focused expression, regarded each of us with something approaching boredom or maybe disdain.

I did not recognize anyone in the room and found a seat near the back, occupying my time working on the impurities still clogging my chest. There was a defensive spell that might help keep me alive in a future fight, but it was cast through my torso. I wanted to get it down so that the next time a valuable bounty came my way, I could take it without worry.

When the last of the students arrived, Professor Merton cleared her throat before walking forward, arms folded behind her back.

"I am Master Merton, and it has fallen onto me to teach you all the intricacies of spellcasting. Under my watchful eye, you will each learn to take raw power and shape it into something useful. I will say this once. I tolerate no reckless fools rushing ahead, and if you ignore my instructions, I will personally ensure your time here is brief. Very brief."

She and Girem would get along fantastic if her glare were any indication. I dropped my eyes when she glanced my way, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

Like with Magic Theory, most of her lesson was review, and I spent most of the class listening, comparing her words to my notes. I found that most of my understanding seemed correct, though she did give me several new things to dig into in my spare time.

War Theory was the worst of the lot so far, run by a meek man named Thorne, who seemed eager to waste my limited time. For over an hour straight, he explained in painstaking detail the basic troop types and simple formations. I assumed he planned to introduce more complex ideas later, but it was still dull as anything.

By the end of the third class, I was starting to regret taking on so many courses at once. I had intended to gain a vast pool of knowledge as a foundation and build on where my talents lay. However, if these remained so unhelpful, I would need to consider trimming my courseload and focusing on the most valuable classes.

The Academy permitted adding or removing classes for the first few weeks, which gave me the time to decide. But, if pressed now, War Theory was already on the chopping block, and Magic History proved little better.

This master started with the stories of Ferris' founding and the Founders themselves. We knew startlingly little about the legendary mages, something I wondered about myself. Ferris did not start keeping a written history until several decades after their deaths, which undoubtedly contributed to the lost information, but to know nothing? It was beyond strange.

I debated asking the master and even raised my hand when he paused to take questions. And it was then that I caught it.

Clemons had been pleasant, Merton cold but not specifically to me, and Thorne too withdrawn to leave an impression. But this master stared at me down a hooked nose, blatantly ignoring my hand before moving on to the next topic.

I caught the brief whispers and a few muffled chuckles, lowering my arm and feeling my cheeks burn. My teeth gritted together, and I let out a few even breaths, knowing that I should have expected this. Julian had warned me, and forgetting his warning was my fault.

When the class ended, I decided there and then that, short of a miracle, I would drop it within the next week. Between the master's hostile attitude and how useless it already seemed, there was no point wasting valuable time in that room. I could just read on my own and get the same knowledge without the unpleasant demeanor.

The last class of the day, Forging, was one I looked forward to more than most others. Unlike the rest today, there was little I could do to prepare. After a certain point, without hands-on instructions, progress ground to a halt.

Rather than the traditional classroom setup, this room was built open and wide, with a dozen workbenches, including a pile of paper, pencils, and various other tools I did not recognize at a glance. At the front was a similar station, with a long blackboard behind it. Strangely, I saw no forges, anvils, or the like.

Master Laila, the young mage in charge of the class, walked in, smiling at all of us, and said, "Welcome, apprentices! Welcome to Magic Forging, the unmatched art of turning lumps of trash into something special. I will warn you now that few ever truly get the hang of the skill, and if you are the type to want immediate results, the door is right there."

No one moved, and she scanned the room, nodding once as her smile grew wider.

"Excellent! I always ask, but I'm glad no one took me up on it. I love to teach but hate teaching those who hate learning if that makes sense."

Walking to the front of her workbench, she leaned back against the table, folding her arms over her chest as she scanned us again.

"Now, can anyone tell me what this class is about?"

A girl near the front raised her hand, and after a nod from the teacher, said, "We are learning how to craft weapons and armor."

Laila nodded a few times, responding, "True for some, but too narrow of a response. Tools of war are useful, but not the only thing we do."

Another student, a young man, tried his luck, saying, "Creating reagents? Some magic needs the proper materials to work, and this will teach us how to make them."

"Also accurate, but still a bit too focused."

No one answered, myself included, and she looked around before nodding.

"I expected a bit better, but not a problem! Forging, as in the work a blacksmith does, is the act of making or shaping metal. Magic Forging, capital M and F is the art of shaping mana, either freely or inside of another object."

She must have caught the confused looks, smiling and continuing, "A bit murky, I know, but bear with me. Generally, we separate Forging into three major disciplines, which we call Creation, Reinforcement, and Alteration."

She held out a hand, a loose sphere of gray mana gathering, and continued, "Creation is the materialization of mana into physical shape, usually reflective of your mana. For the observant, you should see this skill is far from limited to just our field. Fireballs are temporary creations, while the Invictus is a bit more impressive. And it is permanent, which is considered the peak of this discipline."

Above her palm, the sphere coalesced, turning into a dull metal sphere, somewhat lumpy and uneven.

"Reinforcement is the act of binding mana to an object, strengthening it, removing flaws, or otherwise improving the materials in desired ways. Weapons and armor often use alloys treated for incredible durability, as an example. To your example," Laila gestured to the second apprentice, "we often will purify materials we plan to enchant, to improve mana transference."

A wave of mana passed over the sphere, and in seconds, it became perfectly smooth and shone brightly, reflecting the magical lights hanging overhead. But the transformation did not stop there. One end flattened and elongated, while the other narrowed, a thin bar stretching out to each side.

In less than a minute, Master Laila now held a dagger in one hand, examining it with a critical eye. She turned it over before looking back up to the rest of us.

"Finally, we have Alteration. This skill is why we don't need smelters or forges because a good forge master can create wonderful objects through just their focus and control. Shaping and transforming are the bread and butter of this discipline, though crafting is not the sole purpose. Can anyone think of an example?"

"Sabotage? If you can alter, you could damage or destroy." someone said from the middle of the room.

"Excellent! Of course, this is only scratching the surface of what a master of Alteration can do. My teacher's teacher was a true virtuoso. She could alter objects in apparent defiance of their natural attributes, such as creating iron alloys that remained liquid at room temperatures. The possibilities are limited only by your imagination. Well, that and perseverance."

The dagger vanished, likely a temporary creation rather than a permanent one, and she continued, "Each of you will learn all three of these disciplines, though you will likely flourish at one in particular. Now then, why don't we get started with something a bit more interesting?"

She walked down the aisle separating the twin rows of workbenches, stopping near the middle before continuing, "Your task for today is Creation. I want each of you to generate an orb of mana and hold it for a full minute. If you can create one, go for two. If you can do already do that, well then, maybe you'll be teaching this class instead of me in a few decades,"

That was all the instructions she was willing to give, and she clapped her hands together before starting to pace the room. I did not pay much attention to her, holding up my left hand and pulling. A month straight of constant practice had made it easy enough, and out came a sphere that hovered over my palm.

It still looked hazy, tiny wisps escaping from the edges, and after around ten seconds, I had to push a bit more energy into it to keep the construct whole. My control was still far below what I wanted, but that was simply a matter of time and training.

Master Laila paused near my desk, saying, "Ohhh, an Aether? You make much better enchanters than forgers, but I've got a few ideas about your element I've wanted to try for years."

"It would be my pleasure to-apologies-to help, master," I said, the orb briefly sputtering as my focus split.

"Good. Now, try for two orbs," Master Laila replied, walking away to the next student.

By the end of class, I was nursing a headache from the exertion. As I walked out, Master Laila stopped me and handed me a small book with a smile.

"Try these exercises out in your free time. They should help improve your mana control, a key skill for forge masters."

I had noticed she had stopped two other apprentices, the only others to create and hold a mana orb for the full minute, and concluded this was a sort of reward for good performance. As I suspected, the talented and skilled gained ways to grow stronger as the less skillful fell behind.

Maybe it was a mistake to show too much competence, but at this point, it was too late for regrets. Instead, what dominated my thoughts were the concepts behind Magic Forging and how they might apply to my magic.

What would Aether create if I materialized it into something permanent? Could I use my mana to reinforce metals and create impossibly strong weapons or armor?

And if I could reinforce metal, why not flesh? It had never been done before, but I knew it was possible. Those invaders knew the secrets, and if they could discover it, so could I.

The last thing on my schedule was training with Sig. He and I had decided to move our typical session to nighttime after classes finished, and I had no intentions of skipping out on those, even if it killed me.