She leaps out the door, a slightly burnt slice of toast hanging from her mouth as she straightens the last pieces of her light grey school uniform and sky-blue ascot. Her gem-like eyes that match her necktie squint as she transitions from the shaded interior into the morning light.

  “Morning, Allia!” A middle-aged woman in a floral print gardening outfit calls to her from behind a red picket fence as she waters her orderly flowers.

  “Morning, Ms. Mattisen!” Allia calls back, slowing to take the bread from her mouth and wave, then suddenly stops. “Oh! Your tulips came up! How pretty! So many colours! Are they random or… Oh, I know! Are the colours corresponding to one of the Frembrent sequences?!”

  Ms Mattisen lets out an embarrassed laugh. “I don’t know what that is. But aren’t you going to be late?”

  “Oh! You’re right!” Allia laughs back mirthfully and runs off. “Well, see you later then!”

  Allia runs for a few minutes down twisting narrow streets with the occasional hover skiff zooming silently overhead. Lining the street are bright wooden houses, many with their own cheerful little gardens and wide windows allowing viewing of the little morning rituals taking place inside. She suddenly stops and turns around after overtaking a slowly walking girl in her school’s grey uniform with short, wavy pale green hair and a slightly short and medium build.

  “Sarrah! Your hair! I almost didn’t recognize you from behind. I like the colour! Did you finally blossom!?” Allia asks in a frantic string of energy.

  Sarrah, not stopping – which forces Allia to resume at her slower pace – smiles serenely at her friend’s enthusiasm. “I think so.

  “You mean you don’t know? The manifestation didn’t generate a phenomenon?”

  Sarrah shakes her head with no strong emotion. “I think it’s either too abstract for the initial manifestation to be detectable, or it’s just something passive.”

  “Passive isn’t bad,” Allia says, trying to cheer up her friend. Or rather, instil her own general enthusiasm into her generally sedate friend’s usual reaction to the unusual. “I mean, take General Ikenhal! Besides, your general magic is already so good! I’m sure the usual boost everyone gets from blossoming will put you near the top of the class. I’m sure you’ll surpass some active manifestations.”

  “Maybe in power, but… But thanks,” her friend says with a short smile. “I’m not worried, though. My career plan didn’t rely on getting a powerful manifestation, so it won’t really matter even if it turns out to be one of the silly ones. There are a couple that would be useful, but they tend to be unusual and highly specific, so I didn’t plan on getting them.”

  “Yeah, but even if you never use a super powerful manifestation, it’s still nice to have, right? I mean, it’s just cool to be able to do it.”

  Sarrah responds stiffly. “I admit I wouldn’t mind it turning out to be potent, but I wouldn’t want it to be too powerful since it would disrupt my plans if everyone decides I’m indispensable for monster defence.”

  Allia nods. “I guess that makes sense. But you aren’t saying that the government would coerce you, are you? That’s illegal!”

  She shakes her head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just that people tend to get funny about having those with much more power under them. Jealousy and their own lost dreams of heroics. Flashy manifestation can overshadow any ability you have in other areas, so regardless of their interests, the ultra-powerful tend to end up where they’re ‘most suited’. Though I’m not worried. You’d probably have to be another Balinthal or Gemeze to really have no other choice.”

  “That’s a relief, I guess. I mean, my light magic is pretty impressive, but I don’t think anyone would imagine it turning battles around.”

  Sarrah looks at her askance. “Didn’t Professor J think that your manifestation was more abstract than just light?”

  Allia laughs nervously. “Well, even if she thinks that, she doesn’t have any idea what the concept really is. Might as well call it light magic for now.”

  Sarrah nods. “Yeah, I guess even if the lights are just a byproduct of whatever’s going on, they’re pretty enough to be worth mentioning.”

  “Thanks,” Allia says.

  “…So do you think we’ll make it to class on time?” Sarrah says after an awkward pause.

  Allia panics. “I stopped running because I thought you knew!”

  Sarrah shakes no. “Sorry, I forgot to check the time on the way out. I guess I was distracted.”

  “Oh, right, I should have guessed,” Allia says, and, without stopping, they both perform the quick chants and gestures for the standard sundial spell.

  After about 10 seconds of chanting condensed instructions into the spell, a pair of glowing, translucent, half-meter wide disks appear over their hands with the standard angled needle. The disks smoothly move with them as they walk but remain oriented to true north and perfectly parallel to the ground. Rather than being dependent on local light, the needle creates a glowing line in opposition to where the sun is regardless of obstacles – be that a roof or the ground. The disk is divided by twelve equidistant lines, forming sections that are further divided by shorter lines, and then again.

  Allia mutters the math to herself. “It’s the fifth, so… that line means…” she looks up, “I don’t think we need to run. A brisk walk should do it.”

  Sarrah, having made her own calculations, nods in agreement, and they both pick up the pace to something too quick to further their conversation.

  Arriving at the marble and silvery gates of Thistlehow Academy For The Magically Gifted, they have five minutes to gather their things from their lockers and get to class. The girls have lockers next to each other in the imposing, tall grey rectangular block that is the magical theory building where their first class is, so they quickly make their way together. Allia opens hers first, unlocking it with a gesture and a stream of light while Sarrah is stuck fiddling with a combination lock.

  “I guess that’s one thing to look forward to, whenever I actually figure it out,” Sarrah mutters to herself.

  Allia once again tries to cheer her friend up. “Don’t worry about it; I’m sure Professor J will figure out your manifestation soon, at least enough to key stuff to it.”

  “Yeah,” Sarrah says. “I guess we’re both lucky.”

  “Yeah…” Allia freezes for a beat as she sees the red hair of the girl nicknamed the ‘Fire Witch’, but it’s just a glimpse as she leaves the room. Allia sighs in relief at avoiding the troublesome girl.

  What was she doing here? Her locker is on the other side of the school.

  Sarrah shuts her locker a bit forcefully, startling Allia from her thoughts. They smile briefly at each other, then rush to their first class together – ‘standard spellworks’.

  Today’s class is about variations to the standard shield spell: adding attributes for more efficient resistance or projecting it at a distance. Both Allia and Sarrah can already do this, so they spend the class studying for other classes and occasionally whispering to each other when they think they can get away with it.

  They separate for their next classes, but meet up again after for lunch – going to their favourite tree on top of a hill overlooking the school as they normally do. They peacefully eat as they watch their fellow students go about the dozen or so mostly white brick or pastel buildings with elegant arched vine covered verandas which make up the campus.

  “Allia! Sarrah!” A pair of boys call from below, waving as they ascend the hill towards them.

  Allia waves back, beckoning them upwards.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” The first boy asks. He has a medium athletic build, neither particularly muscular nor fat nor short nor tall, whose primary distinction being an unruly mass of standing shockingly white hair that almost seems to glow. It almost doesn’t seem to be hair, as the individual strands all seem to blur together, making it seem more like an impressionistic depiction of hair than the thing itself.

  It’s very striking.

  The boy continues his greeting. “Oh, Sarrah! Did you finally blossom? Congratulations!”

  Sarrah nods politely. “Thanks, Alex, I did, though I haven’t figured out the manifestation yet.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. But I’m sure Professor J will help figure it out in no time.” Alex says, not dropping his smile.

  “Yeah, J will sort it out. My manifestation was tricky too, but she got it working,” the second boy speaks. He’s much lither than Alex, maybe a few inches shorter or taller (it seems to switch from time to time) and has eerie pale purple hair neatly trimmed with curly locks ending right below the ear. Altogether, he has very delicate features.

  “Thanks, Emil,” Sarrah says, hooking a stray lock of hair with a finger and tucking it behind her ear, “though I’m not worried. As I told Allia, I wasn’t relying on a good manifestation for my career path.”

  Emil nods. “That’s a good way of looking at it. Keep the tension down.”

  “Yeah,” Allia says, “besides, I wouldn’t count on J figuring it out anyways, she still hasn’t figured out mine after all – only that it’s not light magic.”

  “Really?” Alex asks as he sits down next to her and opens his box lunch. “How odd. Though I guess if it’s a weird concept, that would explain why you were so weak starting out but then grew so quickly. Maybe you needed to align yourself with the concept more. Oh, that looks good. Trade a bite?” He points to Allia’s thick noodle and shrimp meal, steaming from the heating magic built into the container.

  “Hm, for the strawberry shortcake?” Allia bargains.

  Alex feigns a wounded chest with one hand while cutting a large piece with the other. “Oh! You drive a hard bargain, but I must give in,” he says, despite having never shown an interest in sweets before, and having shown a particular indifference towards strawberries. “Open wide.” He forks a piece that’s at least a third of the slice, which includes the singular strawberry and makes to feed her.

  Allia, not noting that he’s giving her more than the bargained bite, eagerly opens as instructed and allows him to insert the entire chunk. The pleasure of sweetness fills her, and her senses are consumed with picking apart the taste and texture.

  BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

  “WHAT?!” I shout at the stab like knocking, dripping my voice in all due venom to let the perpetrator know what I think about being disturbed so rudely.

  “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE LEFT HOURS AGO!” the crone shouts through the thin door.

  “IT’S TAKEN CARE OF!” I shout back.

  “WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!” She shrills. I can smell the cardamom from that disgusting tea she drinks through the too wide gap between the door and floor.

  “IT MEANS LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU OLD BAT!”

  To that, the wrinkled hag resumes the banging. I thrust my head deeper into my pillow to muffle the clamour and wrap my blankets more tightly around me, sinking into the warmth and drowning out the world.

  “go back go back go back go back go…”

  Allia lets the tingle of satisfaction dance through her scalp as she gulps down the last bit of shortcake. “That was so good! Thanks!” She squeals in delight then proffers her box of noodles for Alex to take his traded bite.

  There’s a twinge of disappointment on his face, quickly smothered with a smile as he twirls a modest amount of noodles around his fork and swallows it in one bite. “I was right, this is good! Did you make it yourself?”

  “I did!” Allia says. “I learned a new constant force spell derivative that changes the vector to a circle, so I used it on my pasta maker! It’s so much easier than cranking it by hand!”

  “Ha ha, I bet,” Alex says with a nervous laugh.

  Emil scoffs. “Like you would know. If you wanted pasta, you would just get your servants to make it for you.”

  “And you’ve made noodles without your servants’ help?” Alex counters.

  “Of course!” Emil preens. “I’ve made a point of performing all of my servants’ chores myself at least once. After all, you need to know how things are done to properly express your preferences, or even to find them.”

  “Naturally…” Sarrah says, her face tainted by mild disdain, which started growing with the food exchange. An expression of vague disapproval without knowledge of what exactly.

  “Oh, right, Sarrah,” Alex starts conversationally, “since you’re going to be spending time with Professor J, try to find out about that mysterious special project of hers. Everyone’s talking about it – even my dad asked about it at breakfast.”

  “Oh,” Sarrah asks with an ironic tone, “and what will I get if I find out? Will you be feeding me shortcake too?”

  He shrugs, not rising to the bait. “Sure. If you want… unless you prefer Emil to do it.”

  Sarrah grimaces. “No thanks. But don’t worry, I’m certain I can figure out a worthy favour if I somehow learn the secret.”

  “Great, it’s a deal.” Alex smiles.

  “Oh!” Allia says suddenly. “Has anyone heard anything about the Firewitch recently?”

  Emil tilts his head at the direction change. “Naomi? No, why? Have you?”

  She shakes her head. “No, but I caught a glimpse of her by my locker this morning, which is weird because I know hers is on the other side of the school.”

  “And how do you know where her locker is, Allia?” Alex asks.

  “A friend mentioned that it was by hers.” Allia innocently replies.

  “Well,” Sarrah says, clearly not interested in the topic, “I’m certain it’s nothing worth gossiping about. Our lockers are by Professor J’s office. She probably just wanted advice on her manifestation.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense,” Allia says.

  “Yeah,” Alex agrees. “I don’t even know what it is, but it’s annoying that everyone assumes she’s our year’s best fire mage instead of me just because of that weird nickname.”

  “They probably assume you’re a snow mage because of the hair,” Allia teases.

  “What do you mean?” he asks, hand shooting to his messy locks. “My hair is a perfect reflection of my manifestation. Fire can be white, in fact, it’s better when it is.”

  “Yeah,” Allia scoffs, “if it’s like phosphorus or something. Which is hot, but you really only get that pure white from specific chemical fires. Which doesn’t make sense cause your fire is magic and so isn’t fuel dependant for the initial combustion.”

  “Well, maybe I’m actually just conjuring white phosphorus and combusting it then?” Alex suggests churlishly.

  “That would be rather potent.” Sarrah concedes.

  “Nah,” Emil counters, “if he were conjuring a fire substance, he wouldn’t be able to control it as finely as he does. Besides, I’d sense it and be able to distort it with my manifestation.”

  Allia smiles smugly. “That settles it then – your manifestation simply has an overly specific phenomenon emulation.”

  Alex scowls in mock protest. “Says the girl whose manifestation is so specifically abstract that she doesn’t even know what it is.”

  “Ha,” Allia laughs, “don’t you know? Specific is better for abstract manifestations, but worse for phenomena emulation ones.”

  “Hmph,” Alex grunts, still in mock protests. “You guys don’t deserve a fire mage of my ability in your company. So, you know what? I’m just going to climb that tree.”

  Allia’s face brightens with a gleaming smile. “I’ll race you to the top!” Allia says, jumping up and grabbing the lowest branch upon which she pulls herself with ease.

  “…Be careful, Allia.” Sarrah says softly, but Allia, while hearing her, does not heed her advice.

  The two scurry up the wooden limbs, heedless of the danger. Suddenly, as they’re about 30 feet up the 70-foot tree, there’s a pale purple flash on the highest safe branch and Emil appears on it, sitting smugly.

  “Hey!” Alex shouts. “No fair! Manifesting is cheating!”

  Emil smugly smirks down. “You’re only saying that because if manifested, you’d burn the tree down.”

  Alex harrumphs. “J said she thinks I might be able to fly with it.”

  “And you’d still burn the tree down, and probably us too!”

  Allia, having taken the opportunity to pull ahead, shouts down to Alex. “Well, good thing the contest was only between us. Otherwise, I’d agree with you!”

  Alex comedically grumbles and quickly pulls himself up in pursuit.

  “Hey! I can see the ocean from here!” Emil shouts down.

  “Really!?” Allia says, clambering up next to him. “Oh, hey, yeah!”

  “Wow!” Alex says, finally catching up.

  Allia’s pulse quickens as she gazes at the sparkling waters. There’s an awareness of sharing an unexpected perception of beauty with the two boys.

  Crack!

  The branch, unable to support their combined weight, lurches under them, then cracks again and comes completely free.

  Alex emits a little scream in surprise as he braces himself for the fall. Emil wraps his arms around Allia, and they vanish together in a purple flash before the momentum of the fall can build. In the same instant, a second flash appears on the ground and they plop out of thin air to land in an undignified position.

  “Oh no!” Allia shouts, turning back up to the tree to watch Alex plummet. By reflex, she extends her hand and a platform of mostly white light with an iridescent rainbow sheen appears under him to break his fall. It’s only a slight strain to keep the construct from breaking, and Allia is able to easily lower him at a safe, slow speed.

  Alex safe and on his way down, Allia turns to her rescuer. “Thanks for grabbing me. That was good thinking. I don’t know if I could have stopped both of us.”

  Emil smiles at her praise. “Of course, think nothing of it.”

  “Oh, I see how it is,” Alex says as he reaches the ground. “You didn’t want to grab me too because…” he trails off as Allia turns to him with a questioning gaze. “…Never mind. But Allia, thanks for saving me. I didn’t know you could do that. I guess you really meant it when you said your manifestation wasn’t light magic.”

  “Yeah! I didn’t know either!” She says enthusiastically, then tilts her head in confusion. “…Wonder why I thought to do that?”

  “… I told you to be careful,” Sarrah says, too quiet for the boys to hear.

  Allia turns and gives her hand a squeeze. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “…Whatever.”

  “Hey,” Alex says, looking at the large branch that fell with them, “you don’t think anyone will be mad we broke the tree, do you? Isn’t it supposed to be historical or something?”

  Sarrah sighs. “I know a spell that can fix it. Just hold it in position.”

  Allia, the best among them at momentum spells, holds the branch with a chant, then Emil teleports it into place with a gesture. Held firm by Allia’s spell, Sarrah hugs the tree and chants for a minute before sighing with relief.

  “It’ll do. At least it’s reconnected to the water network and won’t die on its own. It’ll probably break off in the next storm, but that won’t be connected to us.”

  “Yay!” Allia screams and hugs her friend. “Who needs a flashy manifestation when you’re already so talented!”

  Sarrah looks at her enthusiastic friend and smiles, resigned to the approbation. “Thanks,” she says, and the bell ending lunch time rings.