Sir Nash gestured to the first orb, which swirled with ghostly opalescent light. “Weight of Time accumulates defense based on how long it has been since your last battle. The longer the interval, the stronger your defensive power becomes.”
The second one pulsed faintly like it had a heartbeat of its own, “Breakdown reveals your opponent’s weaknesses. It shows you precisely where and how to strike to bring them down with maximum efficiency.”
I nodded slowly, trying not to look too impressed. A cheat sheet for fights? Now we were talking.
Finally, his hand moved to the third orb, this one dark and dense like a tiny black hole. “Leave a Face Behind,” he said with a faint trace of amusement. “If you’re in a fight you can’t win, this spell creates a perfect copy of you from thirty seconds ago. The copy stays behind while you escape undetected.”
That one gave me pause. I could picture it now—leaving a version of me to face whatever nightmare I was running from. The thought of abandoning my past self to die for me felt… odd. But hey, survival first, right?
These wizards were truly loved by the world to have such strong meta natures. They seemed to operate without limitations, their power stretching into realms I couldn’t begin to fathom. As I observed Sir Nash, I couldn’t help but wonder whether he was a unique or hive-type meta nature.
I leaned toward him being unique. No visible threads extended from him into the void—a hallmark of hive-types, where energy radiated outward and connected to a larger collective. Sir Nash’s energy was different. It swirled inward, entirely self-contained, like a whirlpool consuming itself. There was something deeply unsettling about his Likeness, too. Otherworldly, almost monstrous. It looked like a creature pulled from liquid darkness or dredged from a vat of crude oil, reshaped into a man.
The magic Fae used to create a mind-calming tea for me was fundamentally different from Sir Nash’s. Though I struggled to articulate exactly how. Yes, one was Unique and the other Hive type, but the distinction felt deeper than mere classification. The two seemed to draw from entirely distinct forces, almost as if they operated under separate laws of existence.
Fae’s magic was organic, flowing effortlessly through her process, like water seeking its natural course. Sir Nash’s Arcane, on the other hand, was something else entirely—alien, imposing itself on reality rather than harmonizing with it. It didn’t flow; it warped. His spells felt like they’d been carved out of raw chaos, refined into tools too sharp and strange for mortal hands.
For now, this was the only plausible explanation that made sense to me.
As Sir Nash finished his explanations, the strange space between realities began to dissolve. The infinite void of light and shadow faded rapidly, peeling away like the layers of a dream. In its place, the familiar library reappeared—its towering shelves, the muted smell of aged paper, the soft glow of candlelight. Within moments, it was as though we’d never left.
Well, except for the four luminous orbs now hovering in Sir Nash’s hands.
Sir Nash extended the four glowing orbs toward me, “You can test them here if you’d like, Mr. North. Ensure their legitimacy. But remember—each spell carries its own weight, and the arcane is never without consequence.”
I shook my head politely, keeping my tone steady. “These aren’t mine to use just yet. If it’s possible, I’d prefer to take them with me.”
Sir Nash studied me as though weighing the merit of my request. After a short pause, he gave a slow nod. “Sure,” he agreed.
The orbs, which had been moving with a strange, almost organic rhythm and gleaming with impossible colors, suddenly froze in place. With a casual flick of his sleeve, they were encased in crystalline shells—small, ice-like cubes that sparkled faintly, each containing the condensed spell within.
“Before using them,” he instructed, “simply crush the shell. The spell will bond to you instantly.”
Next, I retrieved the paper where I’d written down the name of the bizarre meta nature he needed. Handing it over, I watched as Sir Nash folded it meticulously and tucked it into his pocket without a word. How he intended to find the meta nature wasn’t my problem. For someone like him, it shouldn’t be a challenge—but whatever happened next, it would be far from ordinary.
“Very well,” Sir Nash said, waving his hand as this was the end of our small meeting. “Our business for now is concluded. If you uncover anything of interest in the future—or find yourself in need of my expertise—you can reach me by letter. As long as the price is right, we can work together again.”
I inclined my head in acknowledgment. “Understood.”
With that, the meeting concluded. I left the library and followed the same path back through the labyrinthine corridors of the estate, led silently by the elegant servant who had greeted me. As the grand gates slid open to let me out, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders.
As I stepped out onto the road, I couldn’t help but reflect on how smoothly everything had gone. Almost too smoothly. Sir Nash was powerful—terrifyingly so—but I’d walked out of his lair with four potent spells and no visible strings attached. That kind of outcome was rare. Lucky, I thought. Or maybe not. There was always a price, even if you didn’t see it right away. The man wasn’t a villain in the traditional sense—at least, not openly—but his aura, his presence, was deeply unsettling. He wasn’t someone you wanted to owe a favor to, nor someone you wanted as an enemy. Whatever his motives or alliances, they were none of my business, and I planned to keep it that way.
The best outcome, I thought, would be for us never to cross paths again in this cycle.
His magical meta nature, though awe-inspiring, unsettled me on a level I couldn’t entirely explain. It was like standing at the edge of an abyss and feeling it stare back. Power like his wasn’t just dangerous—it whispered of consequences and complications.
And then there were the spells. I’d gotten what I came for, but I knew I’d have to test them before relying on them. Spells that strong weren’t free of complications. I could already hear the small, persistent voice in the back of my mind warning me about hidden costs. For now, all I could do was hope the consequences wouldn’t be too dire.
<hr>
Once I was far enough from the mansion to feel a semblance of safety, I pulled out my phone and messaged Jade.
Me: Meet me at the train station. We’re heading home.
Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I continued walking. The streets were quiet, but a sense of unease clung to me. I glanced over my shoulder more times than I cared to admit, searching for something that wasn’t there—or maybe was.
A nagging thought crept into my mind: What if Sir Nash had planted a tracking spell on me?
It was entirely possible. With someone of his level, there was no telling what he might have done without me noticing. My experience—three centuries of trial and error—had taught me to respect individuals like him. They didn’t operate on the same logic or rules as the rest of us. Even with my knowledge, in his eyes, I was likely a small fish swimming obliviously through a shark-infested sea.
Dealing with the powerful was always a gamble. They thought differently, acted differently. Their methods were incomprehensible at times.
Still, I thought, glancing up at the skyline, if he wanted to harm me, he had plenty of chances already. Paranoia can only do so much.
Jade met me at the train station as planned, her usual cheerful demeanor doing wonders to ease the knot of tension that had settled in my chest. We boarded the train together.
“How did it go?” Jade asked, her voice soft and steady, her hand resting lightly on mine.
I smiled, “All went according to plan,” I replied, keeping my tone casual.
She tilted her head slightly, her silver eyes searching mine for a hint of anything unsaid. Her curiosity was practically tangible, but she didn’t push. That was the thing about Jade—she let you share things at your own pace, even if her curiosity was eating her alive. As we sat in a quiet corner of the mostly empty train, a thought struck me. I hadn’t told her the full details of my visit to Sir Nash. Should I? Perhaps sharing this new knowledge could broaden her understanding of the dangers we might face. After all, having more knowledge often meant being better prepared.
“That’s great,” she squeezed my hand warmly.
Glancing around to ensure we were alone, I reached into my pouch and carefully pulled out one of the crystalline spheres. Its faint glow shimmered against my palm as I opened my hand just enough for Jade to see.
Her eyes widened, lighting up like a kid spotting their favorite toy. “What’s this?” she squealed, her voice a hushed whisper as she leaned closer.
“A spell construct,” I whispered back, grinning at her reaction.
Her gaze darted between me and the sphere, her curiosity morphing into intrigue. “That’s what you got from the sorcerer?”
I nodded. “One of four, actually. Each of these contains a spell.”
Her silver eyes locked onto the sphere like it held the secrets of the universe. “What kind of spells?”
“Defensive, offensive, and… one for escape,” I said, choosing my words carefully. There was no need to overload her with details just yet.
Jade glanced up at me, a playful smirk forming on her lips. “So, basically, everything you need to keep me safe while I do all the dangerous stuff.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “You’ve got it backwards. These are to keep me alive while you try to out-crazy the bad guys.”
Jade’s hand reached out toward the glowing sphere in my palm, but I quickly stopped her with a gentle grip. “Not here,” I said firmly, sliding the sphere back into my pocket.
She puckered her lips in annoyance, but her focus quickly shifted, “So, how does it work?”
“Once assimilated, I can use the spell as if it’s part of my meta nature,” I explained, keeping my voice steady.
Jade raised an eyebrow, skepticism coloring her expression. “That sounds way too good to be true.”
“That’s because there’s a catch,” I replied, glancing at her to gauge her reaction. “Once a spell is given away, the original sorcerer can never use it again.”
Her eyes widened in shock, her voice rising slightly. “What? Why would anyone give up something like that?”This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“It’s not something they do lightly,” I said, trying to keep my tone calm. “It’s permanent—completely irreversible.”
She stared at me, her suspicion growing with every second. “Then how did you get these?”
I smiled wearily, unable to resist the urge to tease her a little. Her suspicious expression was so endearing it made me want to reach out and pinch her cheeks. “It was a trade,” I said simply.
Jade wasn’t having it. “A trade?” she repeated, her brow furrowing in frustration. “What kind of trade would make someone willingly give up their spells forever?”
I held her gaze for a moment but didn’t answer. My silence spoke volumes, and she knew it. She huffed, crossing her arms with a dramatic pout. “Acting mysterious again,” she muttered under her breath.
Her reaction made me chuckle softly. Some things were better left unsaid—for now.
<hr>
Mrs. Marlee wasn’t the kind of professor who needed to demand attention—her energy and enthusiasm drew it naturally. After two months in her class, I had come to realize that she had a knack for turning complex concepts into engaging discussions that left everyone eager to learn more.
“Today, we’ll be exploring the classification of meta-natures.” She began, “And let me be clear: this is not the same as classifying powers. That’s a topic for next week’s lecture. Today, our focus is on understanding the nature of what makes your powers tick at their core.”
She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing. “Over the past two months, we’ve studied the three main types of meta-natures: the Hive, the Unique, and the Bizarre. We’ve dissected their defining characteristics, what sets them apart, and the ways they overlap. Now, we’re going deeper. It’s time to look at how these powers connect to something much more fundamental.”
Mrs. Marlee turned to the board and drew a large triangle, each side labeled: Body, Mind, and Soul. “This is the Life Triangle. It represents the three essential components of a living being.” she announced, tapping the chalk against the diagram.
“The Body is your physical vessel, the foundation for all movement and action. The Mind is your center of thought, perception, and control. And the Soul—the most mysterious of the three—is what ties everything together, serving as the core of identity and connection to the universe.”
The room was silent now, everyone hanging on her words. “Humans exist at the intersection of these three. They need all three to function. Remove one, and you lose what it means to be human.”
She turned back to the board and began connecting the dots. “Meta-natures, as we know, often correspond to one or more parts of this triangle. Let me break it down further:
<ul>
<li style="font-weight: 400">Meta-natures focused on the body primarily manifest in physical powers or enhancements. These include abilities like super strength, speed, or the power to manipulate physical elements such as fire or water.</li>
<li style="font-weight: 400">Meta-natures centered around the mind involve powers related to thought, perception, and control. Examples include telekinesis, mind reading, and heightened cognitive abilities.</li>
<li style="font-weight: 400">Meta-natures connected to the soul are often more conceptual and abstract. These include abilities that influence fate, manipulate time, or engage with fundamental universal principles.”</li>
</ul>
She gave the class a moment to process before moving on. “Now, here’s where things get interesting. Many meta-natures aren’t confined to just one part of the triangle. Instead, they exist as combinations of two or even all three aspects. For example, someone with both physical enhancements and mental acuity might exhibit powers that bridge the body and mind. Similarly, conceptual powers that manifest physically may indicate a link between the soul and body.”
Mrs. Marlee smiled, her enthusiasm lighting up the room. “If we take a closer look, most of you here likely possess meta-natures that combine all three of these aspects. This is what makes you so special and, frankly, why you''re at Beyonder''s Academy. Now, let’s open up the floor. Can anyone guess which part of the triangle their own meta-nature aligns with? Are you body-dominant? Mind-focused? Or is there a deeper, soul-driven quality to what you do? Reflect on how your powers manifest and try to identify their roots.”
The students began murmuring to each other, the wheels in their heads visibly turning as they tried to place themselves within this framework.
“Take a moment,” Mrs. Marlee prompted, leaning against her desk.
I glanced around the room, watching my classmates furrow their brows in thought. Lore, sitting a row ahead, looked confident, as if she already knew her place on the triangle. Alex, with his aura of invincibility, seemed to be wrestling with the idea of where exactly his power originated. Jade, on the other hand. For a moment, I thought she was taking detailed notes—absorbing every word of the lecture like the studious type she was definitely not.
Curious, I tilted my head to get a better view. What I saw nearly made me choke.
She wasn’t writing notes—she was doodling again. Another cartoonish sketch of two figures: one unmistakably me, with my slouch and perpetually unimpressed expression, and the other unmistakably her, grinning mischievously. She’d drawn herself holding a bouquet of flowers, while "mini North" looked like he was trying to escape.
I stifled a laugh, shaking my head. Of course. This was Jade’s idea of “engaging with the material.”
She caught my glance and immediately slapped her hand over the notebook, her cheeks flushing pink. “What?” she whispered, glaring at me with mock indignation.
“Nothing,” I replied innocently, the corner of my mouth twitching. “Just admiring your dedication.”
I returned my attention back to the lecture. For myself, my meta nature also didn’t fit neatly into a single corner of the triangle. I knew my human nature was mental, and my meta nature reached more into the abstract territory of the soul.
“Consider someone with the meta nature to manipulate fire. At first glance, you might think it’s purely body-focused—a direct, physical manifestation of energy.” She paused, letting the idea settle before continuing. “But what if that fire is controlled by the user’s emotions or thoughts? Suddenly, it’s not just physical—it has a mental component.”
The room seemed to collectively lean in, captivated.
“And what if,” Mrs. Marlee said, her voice dropping slightly, “that fire can burn intangible things—like memories, guilt, or even fear? At that point, we’re stepping into the realm of the soul.”
“Meta-natures are rarely as straightforward as they appear on the surface.”
The class erupted into quiet chatter, everyone debating their own powers and those of their friends.
Mrs. Marlee raised a hand to quiet them. “Your assignment for the week is to analyze your own meta-nature and determine where you fall on the Life Triangle. Bring your findings to our next session, and be prepared to discuss how understanding your place within this framework could improve your control and effectiveness.”
<hr>
After an engaging discussion hour of debate, the class finally ended for the week. Jade and I walked down the hallway together, the bustling noise of students filling the air. Jade was wearing another striking outfit—a gray cropped sweater with a loose, textured knit and slightly flared sleeves that draped elegantly over her pink turtleneck top, the soft pastel color peeking through. She paired it with baggy, washed-out green cargo jeans, their patchwork details and large pockets adding a rugged, casual vibe that contrasted beautifully with the delicate knit. Her long, wavy hair framed her face perfectly, enhancing her effortlessly cool look. Then, I looked at myself. I think I was dressed well too, at least others couldn’t say I didn’t have a taste or didn’t know how to style.
We eventually found our way to the student lounge and claimed an empty sofa tucked into a quiet corner. It was a nice escape from the noise and chatter of the main crowd.
Jade wasted no time making herself comfortable. She slouched against me, her back resting snugly against my side. The warmth of her proximity was familiar—and more than a little distracting.
“I’m tired,” she declared dramatically, tilting her head back to rest it on my shoulder. Her voice carried the exaggerated tone of someone begging for sympathy, but her actions were far from passive. Without warning, her fingers slid into my hair, combing through the strands like it was her personal stress toy.
“Let me cut your hair,” she said suddenly.
I turned my head slightly to glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “You know how to cut and style hair?”
Her lips pursed for a moment, her face the picture of innocent contemplation. Then, with a cheeky grin that could only mean trouble, she replied, “No. But I could always practice on you.”
I snorted. “I’ll pass.”
“Oh, come on,” Jade teased, her fingers ruffling my hair playfully. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I walk into class looking like a half-plucked chicken?” I shot back, earning a giggle from her.
“You have no sense of adventure,” she muttered.
“And you have no qualifications,” I retorted with a grin.
Jade laughed softly, finally letting her hand drop to her lap. “Fine, fine. But one day, you’re going to let me try,” she said with mock determination.
“Not unless I’ve completely given up on social interaction,” I replied, shaking my head.
“Deal,” she said brightly, like she’d already won the argument.
I shook my head at her antics. It wasn''t annoying, not really—it was just Jade being Jade, and I found myself smiling despite my attempts to focus. Her little distractions, her ways of demanding attention without words, had become as natural as breathing. Or perhaps I was still in that honeymoon phase of our relationship, where even her interruptions felt endearing, my perception clouded by the rose-tinted glasses of new love.
I wondered if I should be concerned about how easily she could derail my thoughts, how readily I accepted these distractions. Maybe this was temporary, these feelings that made everything she did seem charming rather than disruptive. Eventually, time would wear down the sharp edges of new love, revealing whatever lay beneath this initial infatuation.
Meanwhile, I had a notebook in my hands, the pages filled with hastily scribbled notes and sketches. My mind wasn’t on the lounge or the people moving around us. Instead, it was occupied by the runes I had seen Sir Nash create during spell creation. The intricate patterns were etched into my memory, each line and curve imbued with a purpose I was trying to decipher. I was attempting to recreate them, not with magic, but with pen and paper—an effort to understand their structure before I even thought about using them.
“What’s that?” Jade’s voice broke my concentration as she leaned in, her hair lightly brushing against my cheek. She craned her neck to get a better look at the page I was working on.
“The runes that make up a spell,” I explained, my hand pausing over the intricate sketches.
“Like atomic particles?” Jade guessed, her tone curious.
“You could use that analogy to get an idea,” I said, setting my pen down for a moment. “But their nature is inherently different.”
“Have you assimilated the spell already?” Jade asked, sitting up straighter, her gaze fixed intently on my notebook.
“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I want to understand the potential side effects first.”
Her expression shifted, the playful light in her eyes dimming as she considered my answer. “If they’re not safe, why do you still want to use them?”
I paused, her question cutting deeper than she realized. Should I tell her the truth—that my mind was fraying, that I could feel myself unraveling little by little? That I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold myself together without help? No. She’d worry, and Jade worrying was a Pandora’s box I didn’t want to open.
Instead, I just smiled faintly. “Some risks are worth taking,” I said evasively.
Jade frowned at my non-answer, her lips forming a pout. She knew I was dodging her question, but rather than press further, she pivoted. “When are you going to try it?”
“Later today,” I replied, shifting my focus back to my notes.
“I want to be with you when you do it,” she said firmly, her tone brooking no argument. Her silver eyes locked onto mine, and I could see the stubbornness gleaming in them like polished steel.
I smiled softly, letting out a quiet sigh of defeat. “Sure,” I agreed. Better to let her be there than to fight her on it.
Jade’s pout transformed into a small, triumphant grin. “Why don’t you let me see the spell now?” she asked, tilting her head and trying for a look of mock innocence. “I could help, you know.”
I raised an eyebrow, suppressing a chuckle. “I doubt it,” I said teasingly. “Unless you’ve suddenly become an expert in magic.”
She huffed, crossing her arms with exaggerated indignation. “I’ve got plenty of expertise! I’m great at moral support. And I’d probably look amazing holding a magical artifact.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I don’t doubt the second part. But for now, I think I’ll manage on my own.”
Jade narrowed her eyes, her lips curling into a mock scowl. “You don’t know what I’m capable of,” she shot back, her tone dripping with exaggerated offense. “Maybe I am a secret expert in ancient magic. Maybe I’ve been holding back this whole time just to see you struggle.”
“Oh, sure,” I said, leaning into the banter. “And next you’ll tell me you’ve been secretly controlling my fate all along.”
She grinned, her silver eyes glinting with mischief. “Wouldn’t that explain a lot?”
I couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Jade had a way of making even absurd scenarios sound oddly plausible.
With an exaggerated huff, she let her head fall back onto my shoulder, clearly deciding I wasn’t going to give her much more. “One day, you’ll have to spill all your secrets to me.”
I smirked, ignoring her attempts to get a reaction out of me. The arrogant dragon, predicting the future now? It was a funny thought, but somehow, it wouldn’t surprise me if she turned out to be right.
“Keep dreaming,” I muttered, tapping her on the nose.
She shot back, poking my ribs, “Oh, I will.”