The Increasing Amount of News
The door at the front of the hall opened, and Professor Larkin strode in with a wide smile. His vibrant robes swirled around him, and his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. He was a stark contrast to Draven—kind, approachable, and always eager to share his knowledge. Amberine couldn't help but smile; Professor Larkin's classes were always a breath of fresh air.
"Good day, everyone!" Larkin greeted, his voice warm and welcoming. "Today, we delve into the rich and tumultuous history of magic. It's a tale of wonder and peril, of great discoveries and terrible mistakes."
He waved his wand, and a series of images appeared in the air—ancient runes, depictions of legendary battles, and portraits of famous mages. The students leaned forward, captivated by the dynamic presentation.
"Magic, as you know, has been a part of our world since time immemorial. It is a force of creation and destruction, capable of shaping destinies and altering realities. But with such power comes great responsibility, and history is riddled with those who misused it."
Amberine scribbled notes furiously, trying to capture every word. Professor Larkin moved around the room, his excitement palpable.
"Take, for example, the tale of Elindra the Enchanter," he continued. "A mage of unparalleled skill, but also of unmatched arrogance. She believed she could control the very fabric of reality. Her experiments led to the creation of the Void Rift, a tear in our world that consumed entire cities."
The image of a gaping, swirling vortex appeared, drawing gasps from the students.
"Elindra's tale is a grim reminder that even the most gifted among us must tread carefully. Magic is a gift, but it can become a curse if wielded recklessly."
As the lecture progressed, Amberine found herself lost in the stories, each one a vivid illustration of magic's dual nature. Professor Larkin's passion was infectious, making the complex history feel accessible and engaging.
"Now, let's discuss the more recent dangers," Larkin said, his tone shifting to one of caution. "The Devilish Hollows. This dark organization has emerged from the shadows, their aims shrouded in mystery. They use forbidden magic, seeking to destabilize our world for their own gain. We must remain vigilant and informed."
Amberine's mind drifted to the recent news about the Devilish Hollows and their brutal attacks. She felt a shiver run down her spine, reminded of the ever-present danger lurking just beyond the academy's walls.
As the class ended, Amberine gathered her things, feeling both enlightened and slightly uneasy. Professor Larkin's words about the Devilish Hollows lingered in her mind as she made her way to the general store. She needed new notebooks—Draven's classes were entering a more theoretical phase, and missing any details could be detrimental.
The store was bustling with students, all preparing for the rigorous demands of their courses. Amberine found the aisle with notebooks and grimaced at the prices. She knew they were expensive but hadn't realized just how much they would strain her budget.
Sighing, she selected a sturdy set and headed to the counter. As she waited, she noticed the store owner reading a magical newspaper, its headlines flashing with grim news.
"Another attack by the Devilish Hollows," the owner murmured, shaking his head. "A whole family, massacred. Only the daughter survived because she was out on an errand. Poor girl."
Amberine felt a wave of nausea. The Devilish Hollows were growing bolder, their cruelty boundless. She paid for her notebooks, the weight of the news pressing on her as she hurried back to the academy.
In Draven's classroom, the atmosphere was tense and focused. Amberine took her seat and noticed her friend Maris sitting nearby, her face pale and drawn. Concerned, she leaned over.
"Maris, are you okay?" she whispered.
Maris shook her head slightly, her eyes shadowed with worry. "Just a bad night," she muttered. "Couldn't sleep."
Before Amberine could press further, Draven entered the room with his usual precision, his presence immediately commanding silence. But today, something was different. He paused, his gaze locking onto Maris.
"Neophyte Maris," he said, his voice cutting through the air. "Are you alright?"
Maris looked startled, her eyes widening. "I'm fine, Professor. Just tired."
Draven studied her for a moment longer, then nodded. "Very well. Let us begin."
Amberine was surprised by Draven's concern. It was unlike him to show any personal interest in his students.
"Are you somehow related to Draven?" Asked Epherene as she tilted her head.
"Of course not! Ahem!" Maris cleared her throat as her voice seemed to got louder than usual.
As the lecture began, Amberine couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Maris's story than she was letting on. Draven's eyes lingered on Maris for a moment longer, his usual stoic expression betraying a hint of concern. Then, with a slight nod, he turned to the rest of the class and began his lecture.
"Theoretical mana manipulation," Draven announced, his voice cutting through the silence of the room. "Today, we will delve into the intricacies of mana theory, a subject that demands your utmost attention."
Amberine immediately started taking notes, her quill moving rapidly across the parchment. The topic was complex, filled with calculations and theoretical constructs that required a keen understanding and precise documentation. Every word Draven spoke seemed critical, and Amberine knew she couldn't afford to miss a single detail.
Elara, seated a few rows ahead, initially exuded confidence. She sat with her arms crossed, seemingly unfazed by the depth of the material. However, as Draven continued to elaborate on the delicate balance of mana flow and the equations that governed it, a flicker of uncertainty crossed Elara's face. She began glancing around, noticing the frantic note-taking of her peers.
Amberine, deeply engrossed in her own notes, occasionally caught sight of Elara's increasingly nervous glances. The once self-assured genius was beginning to squirm in her seat, clearly regretting her decision not to bring any note-taking materials.
Draven moved seamlessly from one complex concept to another, his explanations precise and his expectations clear. "Mana is not merely an energy to be wielded," he stated, his gaze sweeping the room. "It is a force to be understood, respected, and meticulously controlled."
Elara's squinting became more pronounced as she struggled to keep up. She leaned closer to the girl beside her, trying to glimpse her notes without being too obvious. The girl, sensing Elara's desperation, covered her notes protectively. Amberine couldn't help but smirk inwardly at Elara's predicament.
When the lecture finally concluded, Amberine felt both mentally exhausted and exhilarated. She had filled pages with intricate notes, diagrams, and formulas. Elara, on the other hand, looked defeated. As the students began to pack up, Elara approached Amberine with a mix of frustration and reluctant humility.
"Amberine," Elara began, her voice uncharacteristically subdued. "Can I borrow your notes from today?"
Amberine looked up, feigning surprise. "Oh, so the great Elara needs help? Didn't bring any notes because you thought you could remember everything?" Her tone was playful, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes.
Elara's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she held her ground. "I just… underestimated the complexity. How much for the notes?"
Amberine raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. "You're willing to pay for my notes? Alright then, but they won't come cheap."
She named a high price, fully expecting Elara to scoff and walk away. To her surprise, Elara didn't hesitate. "Fine. Here." She handed over the coins without a second thought.
Amberine blinked in astonishment but quickly recovered, handing over the notes. Elara took them with a determined expression, flipping through the pages to get a sense of what she had missed.
As Elara walked away, Amberine couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. She had the money, sure, but she had just sold a vital piece of her own education. With a heavy sigh, she made her way back to her dormitory, the weight of her decision pressing down on her.
That evening, Amberine sat at her desk, trying to recall the details of Draven's lecture. She had flashes of understanding, moments where she could almost grasp the complex theories and calculations. But without her notes, it was like trying to build a tower without a foundation. The details slipped through her mind like sand through her fingers.
She groaned in frustration, running her hands through her hair. What had seemed like a clever move at the time now felt like a colossal mistake. Tomorrow's class would build on today's material, and she felt woefully unprepared.
Amberine leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. She could still see Maris's troubled face, hear Draven's unexpected concern, and feel the lingering chill of the news about the Devilish Hollows. The world was growing more dangerous by the day, and she needed to be ready for whatever came next. But how could she be ready when she was already falling behind?
With a deep sigh, Amberine resolved to be more careful in the future. She would have to find a way to catch up on the material, perhaps even swallow her pride and ask Elara for help. The thought was bitter, but necessary. Her education—and her survival—depended on it.
As she finally drifted off to a restless sleep, her mind raced with thoughts of mana theory, dark organizations, and the ever-present tension between her and Elara. The stakes were higher than ever, and Amberine knew she had to rise to the challenge, no matter the cost.