Gust held his breath as the ground fled beneath him. The sword was wide but had barely enough space for Gust’s feet. His palms began to sweat, and his eyes bulged as the buildings shrunk and he flew out over the forest.

Ephraim’s dark green robes flapped behind him as he focused on a spot nearly a quarter mile away. The golden tree on his back moved with the wind but the purple stoll draped around his neck did not.

Gust’s heart raced and he held his hands out at his sides to keep balance, but he soon noticed a force which held him firm. The knowledge that the elder wouldn’t let Gust fall was the only thing keeping him from screaming for dear life.

The minute that passed while they were in the air felt like an hour. When the pair landed, Gust fought his nerves down desperately to avoid embarrassing himself, but he felt like puking. He stared at the trees, the leaves and twigs covering the earth, and took slow, deep breaths.

The Master held a serious expression, but it cracked with a smile. “You’ve never flown before, have you Gust?”

The boy silently cursed himself. He nodded meekly.

Ephraim chuckled. “Your heart is beating like a drum. Fear not, Augustus. I know you’ve been lying all along, but you are safe now.”

There was a tone in Ephraim’s words that made Gust’s blood run cold. The man held a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Gust thought his answer through carefully. He was supposed to be working with the Masters to uncover Saith’s secrets, but Ephraim seemed to realize that wasn’t going to happen.

“I-I’m sorry, but I think you understand why I needed to follow the Swordsman’s instructions to the letter.”

Ephraim nodded. He clasped his hands and stared into Gust’s black eye, then bowed. “I have nothing but respect for the Subtle Blade and it’s master. Current, or former. I will do what I can to aid your disciple, but there is already a target on his back. The sword and the coin are bad enough, but this eye and his strange soul will only attract more attention. If you wish for us to only provide instruction, I will respect that, but he will be in danger if he cannot progress.”

While Gust listened, his heart raced. He knew he would need to respond as if Saith were listening and speaking in his ear.

“If he cannot succeed on his own, he does not deserve to succeed at all,” the young man said plainly. It was a point his father made often, and he suspected Saith would say the same. Whenever Gust needed help, his irritable father would urge him to teach himself. At least Saith offered a few lessons and cultivation methods, even if he wanted Gust to master them on his own.

For perhaps the hundredth time, Gust wondered what happened to his father. If his personality had been much like the soul sliver’s, what caused it to change?

Ephraim’s gaze was fixed on Gust’s black eye. It had been a long time since he had encountered something that completely astounded him. The Swordsman’s appearance was the last time, but this creepily dark eye that seemed to drink in light was something that frightened Ephraim. He knew he could not fight such a power, so he tried a different route.

The Master bowed his head. “I will protect him from anyone more than a level or two above him, but he must fight some of his own battles, and this will cost me. Is there nothing you might offer to help me help you?”

The young man paused as he pretended to listen to Saith. He remembered what Ephraim had offered him before sending him into his father’s old home and came up with something similar. “If you help me reach Source Creation within the next few years, he says he will reward you. Potions, artifacts, whatever you pick.”

In truth, Gust planned to leave before that happened. Saith advised him to enter the next layer by the time he formed his source, or laid his foundation, and Gust held that goal in his mind.

“That is all I ask. Thank you, senior.” Ephraim raised his head and his gaze shifted to Gust’s normal eye. “Shall we start with your first spell, then?”

Gust let out a long breath as he nodded quickly. He was eager to move on from these uncomfortable lies. With his every word, he worried that Ephraim would see through him, but Saith had been right. Both Ephraim and Christos were so worried about offending a Starsoul that they would have gone along with almost anything Gust asked.

“Very good. Open your mana sense and observe.” When Ephraim felt the light touch of Gust’s mana sense, he restrained his mana source so the glow wouldn’t be overwhelming and began using the simplest spell he knew: Mage Hand.

Gust watched pure mana flow through Ephraim’s complicated pathways and into his palms. The man’s mana sense spread out and provided a weak pushback as Gust observed it. As Ephraim’s arm reached toward a rock on the forest floor, an illusory blue hand manifested in the air and picked the rock up.

“The mana sense gives your spells an outlet. You must form a spell within yourself, reach out to your target with your mana sense, and activate it. Advanced spells require certain cultivation and cycling methods, or use your source directly, but there are many basic spells using pure mana which any of us can learn. In this case, you need only cycle mana into your hands and channel your intent through your mana sense. Try it.”

As he nodded, Gust thought back to his first encounter with Isaac. There was an unseen force which lifted Gust into the air and threw him in the river, which he now understood to be this spell. Despite the nerves he felt only a few minutes ago, Gust smiled and saw himself practicing Mage Hand every night until he could use it to kick Isaac’s ass.

Even if it took months.

Gust was already cycling his mana. He focused on his hands and found that he could direct some of the pure mana out of his pathways. It was more difficult to control the loose mana in his body, but not impossible. Minutes passed while Gust focused it into his hands and found a rock the size of a baseball with his mana sense.

Gust closed his right eye to let himself focus and reached toward the rock. He felt like a child trying to be Magneto, but instead of resisting that feeling, he embraced it. Gust was done denying the truth of this world. Magic was real, and the power sat in the palm of his hands.

All he had to do was take it.

Gust grabbed the small rock from afar with a level of confidence he’d rarely felt before. He knew it would work, and so it did, if briefly.

The young man’s focus waned almost as soon as his spell activated. He saw a small hand appear beneath the rock and lift it an inch before his eyes widened and he let out a light, quick laugh. “Ha! I did it!”

Ephraim had experienced this moment through his students hundreds of times. He smirked, but not without sarcasm. This was only the first cast. It would take several thousand before the young man began to master it.

“Good, good. This is the spell we use to fly, though it will take much practice before you can do so. Try lifting heavier and heavier objects in the forest outside your home. When you can lift at least twice your own weight, begin lifting something while standing on it. As you might imagine, balance is key. You can use multiple Mage Hands to help yourself remain upright, at first, but you must learn to do so on your own.

“As for your weekly classes… I know the Swordsman will be taking over, but if you wish to remain discreet you should continue to attend. It would be good for you to spar and begin taking on missions, as well. If you fulfill a mission I post, I’ll make sure you are rewarded handsomely. We may need to return out here, however, if we wish to have any privacy.

“Oh, and,” the elder looked back toward the school, “avoid Master Christos. He does not have your interest at heart. You may even meet more of the Masters soon. When our Matriarch returns, they will as well. And when they notice you, some may approach you with certain offers. I hope you know you can trust me, should anything unseemly arise.”

Once Gust bowed his head and agreed to do as his elder advised, Ephraim slapped the pouch at his waist and the flying swords reappeared. Before he could gesture for Gust to hop on, the new mage had one final question.

“That boy,” he started. There was a nugget of guilt in his chest whenever he thought of that bloody body which had already disappeared. It didn’t matter who attacked who, Gust didn’t consider himself a killer. “The one who attacked me… how is he? Am I not going to get in any trouble for what happened?” Gust was nervous to even ask, but it had been bothering him.

Ephraim’s face twisted with confusion. “Oh, him? Ahh, no of course not! He did not make it, but some disciples spend their lives toiling away for decades trying to break through the very same level. He had his chance, and lost it, so that you could have yours. Don’t waste it, eh?”