Chapter 15: The Classroom


    In the Non-gifted classroom Marcella, an older faculty member of the Stone Tower, stood at the front of a dimly lit classroom, her presence both calming and commanding. She was a tall woman with deep-set eyes that held a lifetime of secrets. Her long, jet-black hair cascaded down her back, blending seamlessly with her deep blue robe that brushed against the stone floor as she moved. The robe''s edges were embroidered with intricate patterns that seemed to pulse faintly with hidden energy, a subtle testament to her arcane proficiency.


    The classroom was filled with around a dozen recruits, each sitting on simple wooden chairs arranged in a semi-circle around Marcella. The stone walls were covered in faded glyphs, their meanings lost to time. A single window, narrow and tall, allowed a shaft of pale light to stream in, illuminating the dust particles that floated lazily in the air.


    Marcella’s voice was soft yet resonant, cutting through the silence like a whisper that demanded attention. “So, tell me, Erin,” she said, her gaze resting on a chubby boy sitting nervously on the side, “why do you think magic was created by the Apostles?”


    Erin fidgeted, his round cheeks flushed as he stammered his answer, "Well, I—I saw Apostle Flint create fire out of thin air. I thought only someone like an Apostle could do that... make something out of nothing."


    Marcella''s lips curved into a knowing smile. "A common misconception," she replied. "Apostles, like Flint, do not create magic from nothing. What you saw was the manipulation of mana, the fundamental essence that flows through everything. Magic is not something created; it is a reaction—a product—of mana interacting with the world."


    The room grew silent as the recruits absorbed her words, their faces a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Abel, who was seated near the back, raised his hand. His brow furrowed in thought, reflecting his burning desire to understand.


    "Yes, Abel?" Marcella gestured for him to speak.


    "Where is this mana, then? How do we find it?" Abel asked, his voice tinged with eagerness and a hint of frustration. The concept seemed just out of reach, like a word on the tip of his tongue.


    Marcella nodded approvingly. "A fair question. Mana is everywhere, woven into the very fabric of our world. It exists all around us, but it is unseen to mundane eyes. It is the breath of the earth, the pulse of the sky, the whisper of the wind. The world itself generates mana, giving birth to phenomena, flora, and creatures beyond comprehension. Even the gifted are seen as a product of this world—‘gifted’ by the world with an affinity, a connection to the elemental forces that drive all magic."


    As she spoke, a subtle tension filled the room. The recruits listened with rapt attention, their imaginations ignited by the idea of a hidden force that permeates everything. Marcella continued, her tone turning somber. “But mana is not always a gentle force. It can be wild, unpredictable, and dangerous. There are many objects and places in this world cursed by its chaotic nature. Can anyone tell me the story from the book, Where the Map Ends?”


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Isabella, sitting with her arms folded and a thoughtful look on her face, raised her hand. "It''s about an explorer who found a map in an ancient cottage," she began, her voice steady and clear. "He followed it to a desolate area, faced trials, and eventually gained some kind of artifact. But the artifact’s original owner was unhappy about it, and the next day, the explorer''s entire village was destroyed."


    Marcella nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing with a glint of something almost akin to sorrow. "Yes, that is one version of the tale. But the truth is darker. The artifact was not just guarded; it was cursed. The village did not fall because of some wrathful spirit or vengeance—it died overnight because the curse spread like a plague, a miasma of death. Many think curses are nothing more than fairy tales, but they are all too real. I’ve seen many recruits return from tasks with curses etched into their bones, curses that took their lives inch by inch."


    A cold shiver ran down Abel’s spine. He recalled how his dagger had affected him when he first used it—the rush of power followed by gnawing exhaustion that left him hollowed out like the cost of wielding it was far greater than he realized.


    Marcella continued, "Remember, looking, touching, or even trying to understand things or beings that should remain unknown will bring more harm than good. Malignant spirits, deadly curses, and corrupted artifacts are all very real dangers in this world. Everything has a cost. Nothing is free—not even the allure of magical artifacts. They may grant power, but at what price?"


    The room was thick with tension, the recruits visibly grappling with the weight of her words. Abel was no different. He hung onto every syllable, his mind racing with thoughts of his newfound reality. What other dangers lurked in this world? What prices were he and the others willing to pay?


    Marcella shifted the conversation to the geography surrounding the Rocky Forest and the Tower. She spoke of the boundaries they must respect and the dangers beyond them. "Always remain within the Tower’s protection. Your bracelets will shimmer with a faint glow as long as you are within the safe perimeter. Should that glow fade, know that you have wandered too far."


    Abel looked down at his bracelet, noting the soft shimmer. He committed this detail to memory, understanding that in a place like this, knowledge was a shield as much as any blade.


    The lesson continued for another half hour, covering more on the magical properties of the Tower, the protective wards around it, and the importance of discretion in their studies. Finally, Marcella clapped her hands softly, signaling the end of the session.


    The recruits slowly began to rise, murmuring amongst themselves, exchanging thoughts and fears sparked by Marcella''s words. Abel made his way toward the door when he heard his name.


    "Abel!" Nando called out, waving him over. Beside him were Sena and Isabella, who offered him a nod.


    Abel walked over, feeling the weight of the lesson still heavy in his mind. Whatever they wanted to discuss, he was ready. After all, in a world where every step could lead to discovery or disaster, it was always better to be prepared.