"Physical magick is a magick that - as its name suggests - manifests itself in correspondence to the magickian's movements," Taayir said, moving her hand and moving flames with it. "Many people perform physical magick without even knowing they're doing it, however, it's usually shamed as it's seen as a waste of movement and focus. Physical magick is also called training wheel magick. Cheatsheet magick." She rolled her eyes. "These sayings, simply put, are false."

Nerluce frowned slightly, before returning to what he was meant to be doing. Moving. And listening. At the same time. It was easier than sitting still and listening but still not necessarily easy. What Taayir was saying was pretty complicated stuff and Nerluce didn't want to get lost.

Moving was meant to stimulate them. Taayir had said to just do whatever felt the most natural to them, and it had been a bit silly and awkward at first but now they were all finding their rhythm. Nerluce's mind still seemed determined to wander but while moving he was always able to return it to Taayir and her lecture about the nuances of physical and mental magicks. The overarching theme of which was that one was not superior to the other.

"Think of physical magick as the equivalent to being left-handed," Taayir said. "It's no less natural than being right-handed, it's just fewer people are left-handed and so in some cultures, it's punished and children are forced to use their right hands, usually with poor results." Taayir rolled her eyes. "But everyone can still learn to use their left hand as well as their right. Some people are ambidextrous like Aristide."

Aristide - who was less of an assistant teacher and more of the one taking the brunt of Taayir's snark - let out a breath that might've been a very quiet scoff.

"That doesn't make him better or worse than anyone," Taayir said. "He's just more versatile." She crossed her arms. "However, physical magick is much less studied and considered a younger style - just like left-handedness. We are able to tell, however, that it packs more of a punch than mental magick. This is at the expense of control. Mental magick is highly controlled and therefore much more precise. So there are certain circumstances in which you'd want to use one over the other. Aristide, quiz them."

"Single target," Aristide said.

For a moment no one responded before someone's hand shot up. Aristide didn't call on them, he didn't even acknowledge them. Finally, the person grew fed up and exclaimed, "Mental!"

"Multiple targets," Aristide said.

Physical?

"Physical!" another person shouted.

Nerluce smiled, silently pleased he had gotten a question right. Aristide continued on in the manner, quizzing them and letting them shout answers until he heard the correct one and proceeded to the next question.

"Ranged attack," Aristide said.

This caused everyone a moment of pause before someone finally guessed, "Mental?"

"Why?" Taayir asked, cutting in.

Nerluce didn't know. He felt whatever confidence he felt before from getting two questions silently correct began to shrivel. He felt like there were dead, black vines puncturing his gut. Were those two answers flukes? Lucky guesses? He had no idea. He didn't know much of anything. Not about any of the many forms of magicks.

"Because... um because it's further you'd want to be more accurate and not accidentally hit the wrong target?" the person who'd spoken said.

Nerluce didn't envy them.

However, their answer was deemed acceptable by Taayir as she nodded and turned her head. "Exactly," she said. "This was a bit of a trick question, though. Physical magick would be acceptable so long as your target was a large group where accuracy was less important. In fact, then physical would be more effective." Taayir turned to glare at Aristide. "Don't ask such nonspecific questions."

"I apologize, Elder Priestess," Aristide said, bowing.

"You're still learning so I suppose I'll forgive you," Taayir said, waving him off.

"You're too kind."

A nasty look appeared on Taayir's face, though Nerluce heard no hint of sarcasm in Aristide's tone. Aristide didn't seem the type to even know what sarcasm was, much less how to wield it as an effective weapon.

"Regardless," Taayir said, her voice strained. "There are many situations in which either type of magick would be acceptable and it would be alright to use either depending on your natural affinity." She smiled. "For example, in the creation of your elemental weapon - which you will all have learned to form before you are made into Seraphs - using whatever feels natural is highly, highly recommended."

A student raised her hand. Taayir grunted and pointed at her. "Is that also why you and the Head Disciple looked so different when you created the sword, Kōttaiki?"

"Yes," Taayir said, smiling a bit. Which was terrifying. "Aristide uses a unique half-mental half-physical type of magick while I have the affinity for just physical magick. As is likely the case for all of you."

Oh!

Nerluce figured it was pretty obvious: that was why they were all here and why they were all moving around like this but he... he hadn't really thought of it before. Which was silly. But it made so much sense now. Of course, his magickal abilities had been lacking. He was trying to write with the wrong hand. He wasn't left-handed, but he knew that if he tried the words would come out so messy they'd be unreadable.

Perhaps that was what was happening with his magick. He was just writing messy words and that pool of magick inside of him couldn't figure out what it said so it sat there stagnant and getting polluted. But this would open the pool and the magick of the world would flow through him as it was meant to. As it flowed through Coam and Lord Father and all the Hebikotis who had come before them.

Nerluce was smiling before he realized it. It was such an odd feeling to come to terms with the fact that he might not, in fact, be a complete and total disgrace to his family name and Nerluce was worried he might drown in it.

"Okay, so I'm sure some of you are able to perform a bit of mental magick," Taayir said, and then looking right at Nerluce she added, "though it's perfectly normal if you can't either. I want you all to separate into groups based on your elemental affinity and try controlling it using physical magick. Whatever feels most natural." She turned back to Nerluce. "And it's fine if you can't get it on your first go. Understood?"

They echoed a confirmation before splitting into groups. Aristide left to fetch supplies and Nerluce found himself with a couple of the older disciples. He only half recognized them as faces he'd seen in the tower's common room and in the dining hall but he didn't know any of their names nor had he spoken to them besides giving a formal greeting. None of them seemed as eager to learn this new type of magick as Nerluce was so he didn't say anything to them.

He just sat silently and wondered if he was buying into what Taayir was saying about there being no shame in using physical magick a little too eagerly.

Magick was in everyone and magick was ever-changing yet it seemed that magickians were quite the opposite. They all came from the same families and valued the same traditions that their great-great-grandparents valued despite those methods being practically useless at this point. Nerluce sighed. Perhaps there was value in physical magick but there was also shame. It came with being different.

Eventually, Aristide returned with a collection of supplies. Buckets of water, buckets of soil and stone, unlit candles, and matches. He set the items down before each group and in Nerluce's group, they passed around the candles, lighting them against one another. Nerluce sat his candle down a bit away from the others and gave it a good, long stare.

He didn't know what he was expecting from it. He didn't know what he was expecting at all. No... that wasn't true. He knew what he wanted to happen, he wanted the flame to go smaller like Taayir always told them to do in class and he could never manage. He wanted it to dim, not because his or the wind gods' breaths blew it out, but because he willed it to do so. But why did he bother hesitating like this?

He knew. He knew why. He knew it was because deep down he didn't think he could do it.

He gritted his teeth. Nerluce wanted to prove himself wrong, now more than ever. He wanted to prove to himself and he wanted to prove his Lord Father wrong as well. Nerluce was able to do this. He was just as good as Coam. Gods, what another filthy lie. Nerluce glared at the candle as if it were somehow responsible for this. It wasn't. It was just an inanimate object he wanted to take his anger out on.

So he did. Nerluce moved. He clenched his fists and worked his jaw and paced and argued with his imaginary Lord Father. He said all of the things he wanted to say - all of the things he was too terrified to ever say to anything but this illusion. He told it that he didn't need to be good at magick to not be a failure. He told it that he thought magick was stupid and pointless and just a way for people to hurt one another.

Nerluce moved. He moved with his hands and with his legs and with his entire body. Nerluce didn't know why he moved in such a manner. He just... did. And he let the world flicker out of existence. He let himself move in anger and in pain and in fear and in shame. He was ashamed. He was ashamed he couldn't do magick the traditional way but then again... what was more traditional than moving?

They moved before they could think. Perhaps things had gotten switched around and backward. Movement had come before thought so why would moving magick come before thinking magick? Nerluce wanted to laugh and scream his revelation at the sky. He wanted to laugh and scream at his Lord Father, at himself. He just... he just wanted...

What did he want?

He stopped moving. He didn't know what he wanted. Was it... was it love? From who? His Lord Father? Did he want his Lord Father's love? That... that seemed too simple. No. He didn't want love, he wanted... he wanted his attention. He wanted his praise. Love was too fickle a thing and Nerluce didn't trust it in the slightest. He wanted... he wanted to be of use. He wanted to be wanted.

He brought his gaze towards the flame. It burned as it always had. Almost up and out. Nerluce didn't know how long he'd been moving for. He wished it would just... it would just... give him what he wanted. He wanted it to give him praise and he wanted to praise it. He wanted it to use him and he wanted to use it. He wanted to want and be wanted by the flame.

And... that's when Nerluce felt it. Warm. Tickling him. A whisper of smoke.

The fire blinked out of existence.