Incidents and suspicions

Alisha gently stroked her hair, getting a thick strand off her face. Supporting her head with her delicate hand, she gazed upon the lines of text of the book before her, her amber eyes studying it diligently.

A faint rustle of paper just ahead of her reminded her that she was not alone in the library. Lucas sat a short distance away, seemingly absorbed in his reading. Yet, even from where she sat, Alisha could tell something was amiss. His amethyst eyes skimmed the page but rarely lingered. He seemed only barely focused on the material, his amethyst eyes lingering in places as though his mind wandered.

"Are you feeling well, Lucas?" she asked gently, her tone laced with concern.

His head snapped up, startled. Their eyes met.

"You seem a little tense. Has something happened?"

Lucas closed his book. For several long moments, he said nothing. But Alisha didn’t need words. His posture, the slight twitch in his fingers, the quiet unease in his expression - it all told her plenty.

'It doesn't seem he's worried about being here. Something different is eating at him.'

Alisha opted against waiting. Instead, she sighed lightly. "You don't have to **** yourself to sit here with me, Lucas. We don't have to finish this today," she offered a warm smile. "If you feel troubled, we can call it a day."

Lucas shuffled in his seat, casting a sideway glance for but a moment. After a moment's pause, he focused on her, stroking his hair briefly.

"I'm sorry, Alisha," he offered an apology. "Some things happened, is all."

Her brow softened. "I’m sorry to hear that. Really, it’s okay if you need the space," she said, her voice warm and welcoming as always. "You have enough on your mind, I reckon."

Lucas deflated slightly at her words. The blonde woman noticed that his fingers twitched, a tangible expression of his inner state.

Then, he sighed.

"Alisha, I should say something," Lucas said, focusing on his leader. His amethyst eyes glimmered faintly, almost as if a new depth appeared within. "I'm Classless."

A long moment of silence stretched between the two at his words.

'Classless in the Academy...?' Alisha blinked, stunned. Her mind struggled to reconcile the revelation with the person who just delivered it. Lucas didn’t look like he was lying. If anything, he appeared braced for disappointment, for judgment.

"...oh," she murmured, the sound escaping before she could stop it.

"I know," the man continued, his gaze lowering as though he had done something wrong. "I figured it'd be better if I said it early."

"I see..." Alisha began recollecting her thoughts, blinking as though her soul freshly returned to her body. A newfound curiosity sprouted. "If I may, how did you get admitted?"

"I was allowed to use Ylla's Tear to pass the practical examination."

"You used our Academy's founding artifact?" the Rune Mage's brow shot up.

She'd heard of Ylla's Tear, much like most who attended Weydan's Academy. Its name was not random - it was a powerful artifact created by the mythical Mage of old, Ylla, soon after the Western Sweep. It allowed anyone to wield the power equivalent to a 3rd-circle Mage. Even a person with no aptitude for magic could cast spells with it, as long as the item had some mana left.

However, it wasn't something just anyone could see with their own eyes, let alone use. It was guarded somewhere in the Academy, in a place hidden from most. And yet, the man in front of her had used said artifact...? She couldn't help but feel her curiosity spike.

"You’ve seen it? Used it?" Alisha leaned forward without realizing it, her elbows resting on the table. "What’s it like?"

"?" Lucas flinched in surprise. "I... well, for one, it doesn't really look like a tear. I'm not sure where the namesake comes from. It's more of a large bracelet with a mana stone," he said carefully, almost as if weighing whether he could speak his mind aloud.

"Oh," the blonde shuffled in her seat. The world around them appeared to dim to her as her attention was now fully on Lucas. "How did it feel like, then? To use magic?"

Lucas's expression turned strange for a blink. Alisha almost immediately realized what her question must've felt like to the man. However, before she managed to speak up, his mouth parted, "It's... a strange feeling. I'm not sure if I can describe it..."

"I see... sorry, Lucas," Alisha apologized, her hair fluttering as she straightened up in her position. "I wasn't trying to pry. I was just interested."

"It’s alright. But…" he hesitated again. "I didn’t think you’d take it like this. Knowing I’m Classless."

'So that's what he was so nervous about all along.' Alisha thought, feeling her heart sink slightly.

She sighed, slowly closing her book. Casting a hasty glance around, she confirmed that there were no people nearby. Then, she focused on him, her amber eyes glistening with motherly warmth.

"Well, I am surprised, that's for sure," she gave him a gentle smile. "But ultimately, it doesn't really matter to me. Dorothea and Arand won't care much, either, I can assure you."

"Is that so...?" his white brow raised.

"Absolutely, Lucas. Arand is a Swordman, and he's in our group. To us, your knowledge matters more than your class, and you've already shown that. So, don't feel bad about that, alright?"

Lucas looked sideways for a blink, like trying to pinpoint something that wasn't there. His expression relaxed slightly, evident in how his fingers stretched.

"This reminds me of a certain story professor Schweizer told us a few times. Would you like to hear it?"

"Uh, sure."

"Did you know there was a Classless in this Academy once in the past, too?"

Lucas's amethyst eyes diluted with surprise. His body jerked slightly as he shook his head.

Recognizing his reaction, Alisha continued, "In fact, he was Professor Schweizer's friend. He was appointed personally by the Academy's previous headmaster, and he found himself well here, from what she told us. He was also in the alchemy group, just like you are."

The white-haired man suddenly frowned, his expression turning... almost calculating. Alisha couldn't read his mind, but she did imagine the words sparked quite a few thoughts in Lucas's mind.

"A Classless had graduated the Academy...?" he looked at her.

"Well... he didn't graduate," Alisha deflated, her tone apologetic. "The headmaster changed to our current one, and he ended up being expelled. That's one of the reasons why Professor Schweizer really dislikes the current Academy's officials."

Lucas didn't answer, although his expression did tell Alisha he was drawing some parallels.

'In hindsight, perhaps I shouldn't have brought up the whole story...' she considered, her complexion souring briefly before she sighed.

"Hey, Lucas," she beckoned to him suddenly, making the man jerk in his position. "I know this may seem like a grim foretelling, but I'm sure the same won't happen with you," she offered him a motherly smile. "So don't feel down about this all, alright?"

"I... yes," he slowly nodded. "Thanks, Alisha."

"Of course. Now,” she added, standing and stacking her books, “why don’t we actually call it a day? We’ve gathered enough material, and you could probably use the break."

"Right… that sounds good."

"We'll continue it on Tuesday with Dorothea and Arand," she continued, putting some books around her on a pile.

Immediately, they tidied the books they'd taken. The most important tomes were returned to their places on the shelves, while the scrolls were rolled up and carried to their appropriate sections. Within minutes, the two left the library, stepping into the lengthy corridor.

The sun entering through the windows felt warm and inviting as it slowly descended from its zenith. The numerous rays entering through the windows created a brilliant spectacle, especially visible with the numerous tiny particles of dust suspended in the air. The thick carpet under their feet softened their steps as they turned in a direction.

The corridor was practically empty bar them two, most of the students in the study halls with their professors.

"Hey, Lucas," Alisha started as they began descending the stairs.

"Yes?" the tall man asked, looking at her briefly.

"Don't feel bad about it," she expressed. "Not having a class, I mean. A lot of people try to diminish others for that, but I think you are good the way you are," she smiled, her amber eyes twinkling warmly.

"I... thank you," he responded. "Um, if I may ask, do you, Dorothea, and Arand have lectures tomorrow all day?"

"Well, they two do, from early morning to at least four in the afternoon," the Rune Mage sighed lightly. "I will be coming to the Academy around noon for one lecture. Why do you ask?" Alisha inquired.

"I was just wondering," Lucas answered, although his voice was laced with faintly hearable relief.

"Now that we're on the subject, do you have many plans on Saturday?"

"...?" his brow raised as he focused on the buxom blonde. As they came to a halt near the main door, he shrugged. "Well, there is one thing I will be doing in the morning, but at noon at most, I should be free. Why do you ask?"

"Would you like to meet up with us three? No research or anything, a little bonding meeting, that is all. You'll see for yourself that Dory and Arand won't mind your status at all."

"Oh, uh... I think I can, if all goes well," he responded. "Where?"

"We usually meet at the nearest bridge over Cis from here, a few minutes south west. Do you think you can make it at 14?"

Lucas nodded. "I think so, yes."

"Then, we'll see you there, Lucas. Take care," she nodded toward him as he put his hand on the door handle.

"You too, Alisha."

And then, the buxom blonde was left in the corridor alone. The silence of the surroundings was accentuated by the faint echo of the door clicking back into place.

She sighed.

'He must have quite the formidable spirit, to attend the Academy as Classless. Most wouldn't even dare, afraid of the repercussions.' Alisha nodded to nobody in particular, beginning to strut down a corridor. A faint smile entered her lips. 'I like that aspect of him.'

-Later-

Lucas breathed a sigh, hearing the gate close behind him. Exchanging a welcoming nod with the two guards who watched him, he felt his mood slowly rise, no longer burdened by what had happened earlier today. Instead, faint anticipation rose as he scanned the multiple windows of the mansion he approached.

'I wonder what Nimue is doing.'

He smiled. The memory of today's morning surged, the sensation of her tender lips on his still hot. His heart beat with redoubled strength as his gait hastened.

As he walked down the gravelly road, his mind went in another direction as he reminded himself of what Alisha had told him.

'So, there was a Classless in the Academy before, and he was Professor Schweizer's friend... but for some reason, I feel as though there's more to that. If she was also Father's friend, does that mean he knew that Classless? Why... didn't he ever say it?'

Valerian Stormrider had always taken care to raise his children with care. When Lucas couldn't class at the expected time, he was sure to reassure him. Even when Ophelia broke through again and again, attaining higher circles, and when Aveline showed physical prowess he couldn't match, Lucas fueled himself with those thoughts. Otherwise, he'd have probably fallen into complete despair.

'Well, it's not like I'm in the Academy completely of my own volition, either... Father couldn't have known the headmaster would show interest in me...'

He hummed, his tone heavy and unsure.

Then, a sudden voice came from down below.

"=A hard thought for the mind?=" Cileres spoke, silently trekking just a step behind.

'Damn, I honestly forgot he tagged along...'

"=It's nothing,=" the white-haired man shook his head. "=Had an incident with some people, is all. Lack of class and whatnot,=" he grimaced.

The cat suddenly chuckled. "=Silliness.="

"=What?="

"=I mean the classes. Us spirits have never known anything of the sort, not until we were first summoned into this world. It just sounds completely uproarious to us. Whether it's a human or an elf, it's always 'I need to class' and 'I hope my class is good'. You seem to hold an arbitrarily high value to that thing.="

"=That's because class allows us to use skills. We can't use magic without a... class...=" his voice trailed off, the words flowing hesitantly like a rock was put in his throat. Something about what he just said felt... wrong. Not socially, per se, just plainly incorrect for some reason. Scanning the cat who overtook him as he halted, something stirred in his mind, like a piece of a puzzle just appeared, obvious in hindsight.

"=...human?=" the cat also stopped, the two of them mere meters from the nearest wall. Its bronze eyes gazed at him attentively, searching for irregularities he failed to provide.

"?" Lucas's attention was brought up. He shook his head. "=Sorry, I was just thinking about something. You go ahead, Cileres. Greet Seraphina from me, please.="

The cat blinked, its position shuffling. "=Will do. Thank you for assisting me, human. May we meet later.="

And then, Cileres skittered, quickly getting out of Lucas's sight.

The Stormrider heir, however, stood in one spot for a few seconds more.

'...it feels like something just clicked...' he frowned at the thought. 'Magic comes from class... but for the spirits to not have heard of classing... it sounds like something more is going on behind the scenes...'

He thought back to what he'd heard back during the lecture. Numerous thoughts surged, converging and splitting in turn. If Origin Magic was not a derivative but the original, and the concept of class was unknown to a group of beings fully capable of magic, what did it mean?

A new thought - a question - emerged within Lucas's mind.

'What came first, the class or the magic?'

Looking at the manor in ponder, he was slowly brought out of his state. Shuffling on his feet, Lucas resumed his walk. Yet, in the back of his mind, he could feel it. The voice, once again present, nodded lightly at his question like it was the natural conclusion of what he'd heard.

...

The chill of the underground corridor felt less stale than usual. The lights of the manalamps appeared slightly brighter, too, as he walked forth, reaching the kitchen quickly. With a quick exchange of niceties, Lucas was soon back in his room, changing into his regular clothes.

Right after that, he walked over to the nearest dresser. Shuffling a few empty pages from beneath a small cover, he grabbed a nice, rugged piece. Snatching an inkwell and feather on the way, Lucas made his way to the table. Without waiting for anything, he began scribbling away.

=Between Origin and regular magic, there are heavy differences. Origin Magic boasts a higher power, but it's uncontrolled. Its own sigil seems more like an obstacle than a way to express magic. Is this why it's more powerful? Could it be the way we see magic is different from what we've learned?

...

...

...=

Several minutes passed. The smell of ink permeated his nostrils as the Stormrider slowly put the feather to rest. The page was covered in multiple notes he'd taken, both as what he'd heard and his own observations.

Taking a long moment to study his own words, Lucas slowly raised a hand, fingertips hovering above the parchment as if trying to grasp a thought not yet fully formed.

'When Ophelia cast it... it wasn’t like using a skill. A skill is precise, like calling someone by name in a crowded room. You know what you’re invoking, and it responds predictably.'

His brow furrowed.

'But Lightning Dragon Spear... it wasn’t like calling a person. It was like shouting into a crowd and having the storm answer.'

A shiver crept down his spine at the realization. It was like a small lock in his mind suddenly gave, another piece of the puzzle coming to him.

'She didn’t target a spell. Ophelia subconsciously generalized the request. She asked not for one particular lightning, but for the entire storm. And in response, she got one that corresponded to the amount of mana she used.'

His thoughts sharpened, brushing against something abstract and yet oddly familiar. A Fireball was a 1st-circle spell. Even if it were used by a 5th-circle Mage, it'd still have more or less the same power. The same applied for 2nd-circle and so on. But that was because the costs were consistent.

'That's how she controls how strong her Origin Magic gets.'

Lucas almost smirked at the realization. By measuring the mana Ophelia used to fuel the Lightning Dragon Spear, the spell became that much stronger or weaker. It was... strangely intuitive, in retrospect.

A question now remained, however. Lucas could still feel her memories in him faintly. She was not, at any point, aware of the level of control she held. Rather, deep in her, there was a feeling that she had to somehow keep the spell in check, and it felt like she constantly lowered and increased the output until the spell stabilized. The question was, was there a way to do it better?

Then, almost as if nudged by some outside presence, a memory emerged.

'An integral… a way of rapidly accumulating the changing elements of a system. Not one point, but the area beneath a shifting curve.' Lucas hummed. 'Not a single spell, but the whole of what lightning could be, pulled forth in one moment. Is that... how to use magic...?'

The voice in the back of his mind nodded faintly, slight expectation emanating from its gaze.

Anticipation bubbled within Lucas as he moved to the center of his room. The room's atmosphere fell away as he closed his eyes, immersing himself.

He took a deep, steadying breath. Spreading the fingers of his hands, he did his best to recall Ophelia's memories, foggy as they were becoming in his mind. Discarding the useless parts one after another, he slowly uncovered the full array of sensations, playing it back as best as he could.

He could feel it - the electrifying sensation running through his body. It was like lightning itself wanted to form, gently guided by his intent. Although it was just a fake - a juxtaposition of Ophelia's sensations on himself - it felt real enough for him to give in to it. It was almost like the air thickening around his fingers was not just a memory, but a present sensation.

His amethyst eyes glimmered as he opened them. However, just as he expected, no sigil appeared between his fingers.

He sighed.

'Yeah, expecting anything is just building castles in the air. In the first place, this is but an inkling based on what I've heard.'

The voice in the back of his mind chuckled, amused. Yet, under that lay a nod, a signal telling him he was starting to go down the right road.

Lucas grimaced.

'For now, let's just go and eat something.'

But then, a sudden knock on the door broke him out of his ponders.

Lucas's head snapped in the direction. Studying the door for a short moment, he heard a voice that he had not expected to hear at that time.

"Young master?" Tessa sounded, her tone slightly muffled. "I heard you just returned. Are you inside?"

'She came to see me?' Lucas almost frowned, a slight twisting sensation in his gut. It was a premonition, almost, like a sixth sense telling him that a small fear he had held was just about to be confirmed.

"I'm coming, Tessa," he replied hastily, pulling his shirt down and smoothing the last wrinkles. Then, he opened the door, immediately seeing the rather tall maid.

From looks alone, he could tell that Tessa had rushed here. Her scarlet hair was slightly disheveled, and a bead of sweat traveled down her temple before she swiped it.

"Do you need something?" Lucas's brow raised.

"Um... yes," the maid replied, her eyes darting one way, then the other. "May I enter?"

Lucas stood aside, letting the red-haired woman enter. Immediately as the door clicked, he inquired, "What is it, Tessa?"

She turned on her heel, many emotions crossing her pretty face instantly. Lucas could tell without a word of explanation that she felt conflicted yet hopeful about something.

"It's, um..." she fumbled with her words briefly before taking a deeper breath. "I've been... watching things unfold lately, young master."

"Watching? What do you mean?"

"I-I mean, me, Lilia, and Imari have been delivering food to the guests upstairs, and, um... there was something off about it," Tessa stammered faintly, her eyes barely meeting Lucas's gaze like she was unsure if she should speak further.

"What exactly?"

Tessa's lips tensed up, her fingers curling into her palms as she steadied herself.

"I had, uh... a hunch, that there was something wrong with the food. So I watched carefully when we carried it the past two days."

"Was there anything wrong with it, then?" he inquired.

"Not until we got it there. But then... something happened. Miri was acting suspicious."

"How so?"

"When we delivered the food, she immediately told us to leave. Everyone said she's just trying to make sure we work like clockwork, but... I observed her secretly, and... she was doing something to the food... I don't know what. It looked like she poked the food, almost, with something like a needle. I-I don't know how to express it..." she trailed off, her tone shaky and unsure.

"It's alright, Tessa," Lucas said reassuringly. However, that didn't stop his guts from twisting unpleasantly. "Did you tell anyone about this?"

"No... I didn't think anyone would've taken me seriously. That's why I came to you, young master," she looked at him, faint hope in her eyes. "I know you will understand."

The white-haired man nodded, his expression a mix of thoughtfulness and solemnity. Tessa's words stirred strange sensations from the bottom of his abdomen.

'Poking food with a needle... or a pipette, perhaps...?' he frowned, taking in the moment of silence. Tessa wouldn't have known the difference, he was aware of as much, even though that could change the situation's look entirely. 'Uncleanness in food because of a pipette could only happen if it carried something... but regular dirt wouldn't taint mana... I need to speak to Aveline.'

"Thank you for telling me this, Tessa. I'll look into this," he nodded gently, his gesture full of gratitude toward the gray-eyed maid.

She reciprocated, her expression relaxing just a tinge. Although uncertainty still filled her lithe form, Lucas could tell that her breathing became more stable, and she didn't appear as anxious anymore.

"Now, you go ahead," he said. "I shouldn't hold you down."

"It's alright, young master," Tessa replied, the tiniest of smiles on her pretty face as she fixed her hair. "Thank you for treating this seriously," she continued, her gray eyes almost glimmering in his direction. Her cheeks flushed slightly but Lucas didn't notice the change.

As they exited the room, Tessa immediately stepped away, toward the kitchen. Then, however, as if struck by a new thought, she turned on her heels, focusing on the tall man in front of her.

"Do you need something more, young master?" she asked, the pretty contours of her face aligning into a questioning expression.

Lucas blinked, brought out of his brief ponders. "Tessa, do you know where's Aveline?"

"Lady Aveline...? She went to the alchemy lab an hour or so ago, I reckon. Why do you ask?" her head tilted. "You don't think... she's involved?" her thin brows corrugated.

"No," Lucas shook his head quickly. "Nothing like that. I just need to speak with her. It's alright, I'll find her on my own."

As he stepped away, Tessa reached out instinctively. "Young master, wait. You're not permitted on the ground floor or above. Let me go and fetch her for you."

Lucas paused, meeting her gaze. "I appreciate it. But I need to do this myself," his voice held a quiet finality. "Really, I’ll be fine."

Tessa hesitated. Her gray eyes lingered on him, uncertain, as though sensing more behind his words. But when he nodded gently, she returned it, the movement small but accepting.

"Alright," she murmured. "Please be careful."

Lucas watched her retreat down the corridor, her footsteps soft against the wood. Only when she disappeared from view did he exhale.

Lucas watched her go away for a few seconds before turning. A queasy feeling stirred in his heart as he stepped forth.

'Aveline is the only one aside from me who uses the alchemy lab. If anything is actually used to meddle with the mana, she definitely knows something.'

Lucas drew in a breath, steadying his thoughts.

'Normally, I'd have let Tessa go for her. But this is hardly normal. I'd rather nobody had to take risks because of my actions...' he grimaced. 'After all, it's me who hypnotized Tessa to draw her attention to the food. It's only fair I handle the rest myself.'

Then, a quiet resolve passed through his mind.

'Silver lining, it’s a good time to field-test Astral Projection.'

The ponders were thrown out as he ascended the staircase at the end. The carpet donning the steps gave in under his feet quietly, giving him an air of stealth he never before truly paid mind to. The creeping rays of sunlight on the walls stretched, casting just as long shadows. The occasional manalamps of the walls were off.

The warmth of the ground floor hit him almost unexpectedly. Lucas took a deeper breath, slowly scanning the painting-ridden walls and the expansive structure of the tall corridor. The pleasant colors intermingled nicely, creating a spectacle that could captivate him if not for the fact he'd seen it many times before.

He took a breath. Steadying himself against the railing of the stairs, he used Astral Projection.

As Lucas's astral form left his body, he made a little distance. Inspecting his state, he almost immediately noticed that he was holding his balance, almost as if the most primal aspects of his consciousness were still present in his physical form. He almost smiled before turning and going as far as he could.

'The coast is clear.' he conceded, canceling the skill and ascending the stairs further.

The way up was straightforward. Stepping into the corridor on the first floor, Lucas again used the skill, confirming there was nobody in sight.

'Now, it's just across the place, and up two levels.' Lucas nodded to himself, but his expression remained neutral. Now came the hardest part. The alchemy lab was in a corridor that had only one stairwell leading to it - and it was right across the mansion. Every step Lucas would take could have him meet someone.

However, there was a quiet reassurance in his mind.

'Even if I end up getting caught, I can just whisk my way out.' Only one of the elves - Lis'te, as Seraphina told him - knew Siles, so unless he met someone from the mansion, Lucas was on pretty safe waters.

Stepping forth, Lucas made pauses every couple of seconds, quickly using Astral Projection to jump out several meters, and then back to resume his journey. This continued for nearly two minutes of careful travel.

'It's quite strange.' he conceded as he neared the staircase. 'I thought there'd be some pause between canceling the skill and getting the control over my body back. But it's not like that at all. The moment I tell the skill to halt, I can tell my body to move, even before I fully return. That and there seems to be some minimal instincts still left when I'm out. Could Astral Projection be used when I'm moving, then?'

The voice in the back of his mind nodded. Its violet-eyed stare, like a smudge or a paint stain on a canvas, seemed to agree with his thought process.

But then, the situation changed. Suddenly, he heard someone from further in the corridor, just behind a corner twenty meters ahead.

"P-Please stop it!"

Lucas's heart stopped.

It was Nimue.

---

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