The room was silent, save for the occasional rustle of parchment as Vell turned the pages of an old tome just to remind himself of a few of the basics.
The room was dim, not out of necessity, but because Arcane magic was best learned in stillness—where the only thing one could hear was their own breathing and the hum of energy beneath their skin.
Sonder sat cross-legged on the floor, fingers weaving a thin, glowing strand of mana between them. The thread pulsed with a soft glow, flickering in and out of existence as she practiced control. Across from her, the green witch sat—silent, watchful.
She had spoken little since the lesson began. Unlike other witches in training, she had no questions. She only listened.
Vell exhaled and shut the book with a quiet thud. "Arcane magic isn't like alchemy, divination, botany, fire, or illusions," he said. "It isn't alive. It has no will. You don't work with it—you shape it. It's raw, rigid, waiting. Obedient to those with the skill to wield it. Barriers, blasts, anti-magic, time manipulation, and even teleportation."
He flicked his wrist. A crack split the air—a fracture like shattered glass, undeniable in its presence.
The green witch watched.
Sonder's gaze lingered on the distortion. She had seen it before, what felt like a lifetime ago.
"It feels heavy, doesn't it?" Vell resumed pacing. "After a certain point, mana presses down on the world around it. You don't borrow from nature, use ingredients, or rely on other beings. Arcane magic is drawn purely from within. A power source can fuel it, but control is everything. The stronger your command, the better you can shape."
He tapped his fingers against the fracture, and it dissolved into nothing. "Now, let's see your control."
Sonder glanced at the green witch. She had also chosen to focus on arcane magic instead of the other disciplines.
The witch rose to her feet.
Then, without a word, she lifted her hands.
The air wavered. Subtle—like the faintest ripple in still water. Raw, formless mana gathered in her palm, unseen yet tangible, bending light like warped glass.
Vell studied her with quiet scrutiny. She could have had much better control if her previous master had bothered to train her.
The witch's fingers curled, and the energy trembled.
Vell stepped closer. "Now, let's start with something simple—compression. Raw mana is wild and unfocused. But if you refine it, condense it, it becomes stable. Like packing snow into a tight ball."
"Like the sweets you made," Sonder noted.
Vell gave her a look but didn't say anything.
The green witch adjusted her grip. The mana responded, shifting, tightening—coalescing into something denser. A faint shimmer flickered in her palm, like rising heat waves.
"Is this the best you can do?"
The green witch exhaled sharply.
The shimmer deepened. Light bent subtly around it, and the air in the room thickened.
For a long moment, she held it. Then—
A sharp crack.
The condensed mana destabilized, shattering with a soundless ripple. The weight in the room lifted instantly.
Vell crossed his arms, dissatisfied. "At least you can manage that. Most people let it slip before they even get that far."
The green witch gave a slow nod, acknowledging the failure but offering no excuses.
"Again," Vell commanded.
Without hesitation, she raised her hand once more.
The lesson continued.