Kaiswen, Ardesco school of magic, near the border of Bromaric, spring (1618 a.L)

The first chime from the bell tower roused Raelyn from her sleep, and by the ninth and final toll, she was already standing beside her bed. She moved quietly to the window, gazing toward Westwell, where somewhere, Rakz would be waiting for her.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as her thoughts turned to her reptilian pet. She had never been apart from him for more than a day since the moment she found him. The thought of his familiar scaly warmth and bright, yellow eyes filled her with a longing that tightened her chest. She resolved to sneak out and retrieve him at the first chance she got, though she knew the guard assigned to her would be a significant obstacle.

A knock at the door broke her reverie. She opened it to find a platter set carefully on the floor: eggs and bread, a steaming, fragrant breakfast, alongside a neatly folded robe as white as her hair. Raelyn glanced around, but Hovan, the ever-present knight, was already standing just beyond the door, as motionless as a statue.

Without a word, she took the platter inside. After a quick breakfast, she dressed in the robe, its fabric scratchy in places, but she grew accustomed to the discomfort. Before leaving, she picked up the white locket resting on her nightstand, slipping it into her pocket, the cold metal familiar against her skin.

Raelyn stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her. She looked up at Hovan, standing sentinel next to her bedroom. His scarred face turned slowly toward her, his brown eyes unyielding, betraying not the slightest flicker of emotion. He was as intimidating as always, a silent force in a sea of uncertainty. Raelyn swallowed and forced herself to speak.

"Do you ever smile?" she asked, trying to break the tension.

Hovan didn't respond, his gaze as hard and unreadable as ever.

She wasn't ready to give up. "Wanna hear a joke?" she asked, her lips curling into a smirk. "Why do men like smart women?" She waited for a response, the silence stretching between them.

"Opposites attract!" she exclaimed, her laughter echoing in the stone corridor. But Hovan remained unmoved, his face as impassive as ever.

Raelyn's smile faltered. "Come on, that deserved at least a smirk."

She sighed, shrugging as she turned to walk down the hall, the soft clatter of Hovan's armor following her every step. "I'll get you tomorrow," she muttered over her shoulder.

Hovan escorted Raelyn to her personal teaching chambers where Corix, the magus, was waiting. The knight remained outside, allowing the two magi their privacy. Raelyn took her seat at the table before the elderly magus, fidgeting with her hands as she glanced up at him.

Corix cleared his throat, scratching the graying side of his head. He took a slow breath, stepping forward to lean over the table, his piercing eyes studying her. "Alright, I assume you have zero knowledge of magic, correct?" His tone was blunt, but not unkind.

Raelyn nodded hesitantly. Though she'd worked at the school her whole life, she had never actually been allowed to sit in on the lessons.

"Figures," Corix muttered. "Very well... let's start from the beginning." He straightened, looking down at her with a raised brow. "Can you tell me the origin of magic?"

Raelyn took a deep breath, finding some confidence in the familiarity of the question. "A long time ago, this world was overrun by monsters. Humans, elves, dwarves—everyone—lived in fear, hiding from the beasts that roamed the land." She hesitated, but the words came more easily with each passing moment. "Then, in our darkest hour, the gods appeared. They fought the monsters, vanquishing them until none were left. Afterward, they gave us magic—so that we could flourish, each race in its own way."

Corix's bushy gray brows lifted, impressed. "Good," he said, nodding slowly. "Magic comes from the world of the gods; that magic is called ancient magic. We know four branches of ancient magic in our world. Name them." The old magus crossed his arms and waited for the girl to answer.

Raelyn's brow furrowed in concentration as she mentally sifted through the book she'd read the night before. "Human magic, elf magic, dwarf magic, and..." She paused, a faint furrow forming in her brow. "...dark magic."

"Impressive," Corix remarked, his sharp gaze appraising her. "Maybe you're not entirely useless after all." Raelyn's smile wavered at the unexpected praise. "Now, how does each magic manifest itself?"

Her confidence faltered. The question was more difficult than she had anticipated. Raelyn's mouth went dry as her mind stumbled. After a few moments, Corix sighed and rubbed his eyes in exasperation.

"Maybe I spoke too soon..." he muttered under his breath, clearly frustrated.

Raelyn lowered her head, feeling the weight of the silence pressing on her. Corix took another steadying breath. "Humans manifest magic through symbols and signs," he said, turning his gaze back to her. "Elves speak their magic through words, while dwarves forge it into their weapons."

Raelyn slowly looked up and asked softly, "And dark magic?"

Corix's face tightened, his features hardening with a grim expression. "Dark magic is a path best left untrodden. It requires sacrifice to wield, and it exacts a heavy price. Those who use it lose their humanity over time, and the consequences are irreversible."

Raelyn flinched at his words. "I won't..." she said.

"Good," Corix replied, his voice softening slightly. "Now, remember—each of these magics stems from ancient magic. In theory, you should be able to manifest them all. But that has never happened before. We'll have to see if there is truth to it."

Raelyn swallowed, nerves crawling up her spine. "How do we start?"

"Not so fast," Corix answered with a raised hand. "First, you must find your medial."

"My medial?" she asked, confusion spreading across her face.

"Magic flows through all of us," Corix explained, folding his arms. "But only a rare few can connect to it directly. That connection is made through what we call the medial—a wellspring of power that lies within you."

Raelyn blinked, her mind struggling to keep up. "But didn't I already find my medial when I opened the casket?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

Corix shook his head, his expression faintly exasperated. "No. The casket reacted to you. Not the other way around."

Raelyn nodded slowly, trying to absorb the information. "So... how do I find it?"

"Through meditation," Corix answered simply. "Follow me."

Corix stood and walked toward the door, gesturing for Raelyn to follow. As they passed down the corridor, Raelyn could hear Hovan's heavy footfalls behind them. The sound was oppressive, a reminder that she was never truly alone.

They stopped before a massive wooden door, intricately carved with symbols of the gods. Raelyn recognized it as a temple—a place of worship. Corix pushed the door open, stepping into the quiet space beyond. Raelyn followed him, her footsteps muffled on the stone floors as they passed rows of towering marble statues.

The statues loomed over them—each one representing a god. Buer, the god of wisdom and ethics, stood with his wings folded, holding a massive tome. Lix Tetrax, the wind goddess, spread her arms as though welcoming the storm. She passed Baraqijal, the god of stars, and Procel, the god of secrets, before finally reaching the statue of Lucifer, the bearer of light. His long, spiked hair and tunic exuded power, his hands resting on the hilt of a sword planted firmly into the earth.

Raelyn barely had time to admire the statues before Corix spoke again.

"Sit," he ordered, and Raelyn obeyed, lowering herself to the ground and folding her legs. "Close your eyes, focus, and find your medial."

Raelyn opened her mouth to protest, but Corix cut her off. "In silence!" he snapped.

She quickly closed her eyes, hands resting on her knees as she attempted to clear her mind. She could hear Corix's sigh, the sound almost tangible, like a weight pressing down on her.

"Try and find the flow of magic and connect with it," he said.

She strained, reaching for something—anything—but there was nothing. No pulsing magic, no energy humming in the air as there had been when she opened the casket. Only the soft rustle of her breath and the distant sound of footsteps.

For hours, she sat there, her mind wandering, seeking that elusive connection. More than once, she opened her eyes to ask Corix for guidance, but each time, his impassive face made it clear he wouldn't help her.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Corix spoke. "That's enough for today."

Raelyn opened her eyes, feeling a heavy weight settle in her chest. "I'm sorry..." she whispered.

"I expected nothing more," Corix replied, his voice cool. "We will try again tomorrow. I can't teach you anything until you've found your medial."

Raelyn followed him out of the temple, her heart heavy. She couldn't shake the sense of failure that clung to her like a second skin.

As they made their way back to the courtyard, Raelyn could feel the eyes of the other students on her. They recognized her as the maid she once was, their whispers and stares following her every step. She quickened her pace, eager to escape their judgment.

When she reached the courtyard and stepped beneath the stone arches, a rush of cool air greeted her, the sunlight warming her skin. For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe again.

She sank down onto a stone bench between two towering oak trees, feeling the weight of the day's failure lift just a little. The sound of the wind in the leaves and birdsong filled the air as the last of the magi students trickled out of the courtyard.

Raelyn threw her head back, closing her eyes as the warmth of the sun washed over her. "What am I doing, Hovan?" she murmured, not expecting a reply. "I'm not a magus..."

She let the silence stretch, but the moment was broken when something cold and wet brushed against her heel.

"Eek!" she yelped, jumping up in shock.

At her side in an instant, Hovan unsheathed his sword, his eyes darting around the courtyard. "What? What is it?!" he barked.

Raelyn turned to see two yellow eyes peering at her from beneath the bench. A long tongue flicked in and out, and a familiar shape crawled into view.

"Rakz?" she asked, her voice soft with disbelief. As her companion wiggled toward her, she rushed forward, pushing Hovan aside to scoop him into her arms. "Rakz!" she laughed, the sound joyful and bright. Tears pricked at her eyes as she cradled the reptile. "You came all the way from Westwell to find me?"

Her heart swelled with affection as she pressed her forehead to Rakz's cool, spiny scales. "You're a good boy," she whispered.

But then, she turned to look at Hovan, who was slowly sheathing his sword, his expression unreadable. "Did you just speak?" she asked, brows furrowing.

Hovan straightened, his armor rattling as he spoke simply, "Yes."

Raelyn's smile faltered. "What's that?" he asked, nodding toward the creature in her arms.

"This is Rakz," she replied, her voice soft but proud.

"Pets aren't allowed," Hovan muttered.

Raelyn squinted at him, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Well, you better go back to not talking, then," she said, turning on her heel. "Because Rakz isn't going anywhere."

Hovan blinked in surprise but didn't argue. As Raelyn walked away, the clatter of his armor followed her, and she knew he'd follow wherever she went.

Raelyn returned to her chambers to study. She wasn't ready to give up—not yet. With Rakz by her side, she felt a spark of determination that hadn't been there before.