The following week brought a slow but noticeable shift in Kalem's progress. The countless sleepless nights and relentless studying began to bear fruit, albeit in small ways.
In Runes and Inscription, Kalem finally managed to etch a functioning rune into a piece of bronze. Though it wasn't perfect, it held its magical charge long enough to be deemed acceptable.
"Well done, Mr. Kalem," the instructor said with mild surprise. "It's far from refined, but it's progress."
Kalem allowed himself a small smile. It wasn't praise exactly, but it was the closest thing he'd received since arriving at the academy.
Kalem's improvement wasn't limited to inscriptions. In the Material Properties & Resonance class, he managed to correctly identify the magical resonance of three out of five samples—better than his previous one-out-of-five score.
His practical lab sessions were no longer filled with explosions and mishaps, though his enchantments remained inconsistent. Still, the instructors noted his growing precision and patience.
The other students began to take notice as well. While some still looked down on him, a few offered grudging respect for his determination.
"Looks like the village boy's finally learning," one student remarked during lab.
Kalem ignored the comment, focusing on stabilizing the enchantment in front of him. He didn't need their approval; he just needed to keep improving.
Evenings with Lyra became a routine. They would meet in the garden or at one of the quieter corners of the campus, sharing their day's struggles and victories.
"You're starting to get the hang of it," Lyra said one evening, watching Kalem fiddle with a piece of enchanted steel.
"Barely," Kalem replied. "I'm still way behind everyone else."
"Progress is progress," Lyra said firmly. "Stop being so hard on yourself. You've improved more in a few weeks than some people do in months."
Kalem sighed. "Maybe. But it's not enough. I want to be more than just 'passable.' I want to excel."
Lyra smirked. "Typical Kalem. Always aiming higher than you need to."
"It's not about aiming high," Kalem said. "It's about proving that I belong here."
Lyra softened. "You already belong here, Kalem. You don't need to prove it to anyone but yourself."
Despite his progress, the toll of sleepless nights was becoming evident. Kalem's hands shook during fine work, and his temper flared more often than he liked. Even Onyx seemed to notice, nudging him gently whenever he became too agitated.
During one particularly frustrating lab session, Kalem accidentally shattered a crystal component while attempting to infuse it with magic. He clenched his fists, ready to lash out, but Onyx's steady presence calmed him.
"Thanks, buddy," Kalem muttered, patting the bull's massive head.
Later that night, Lyra confronted him. "Kalem, you need to ease up on those potions. You're burning yourself out."
"I can't stop now," Kalem argued. "I'm finally making progress."
"And at what cost?" Lyra shot back. "You're not a machine, Kalem. If you keep pushing like this, you'll break."
Kalem didn't respond, his silence speaking volumes.
The week ended with a small but significant victory. In Basic Elemental Theory, Kalem successfully demonstrated the interaction of fire magic with enchanted steel, earning a rare nod of approval from the instructor.
"Well done, Mr. Kalem. It seems you're finally grasping the fundamentals."
As he left the classroom, Kalem felt a flicker of pride. It wasn't much, but it was something—a sign that his efforts weren't in vain.
That evening, as he sat with Lyra and Onyx under the stars, Kalem allowed himself a rare moment of reflection.
"I'm not where I want to be," he admitted. "But I'm getting there."
Lyra smiled. "That's the spirit. Just don't forget to sleep once in a while."
Kalem chuckled, the first genuine laugh he'd had in weeks. "I'll think about it."
For the first time since arriving at Arcathis, Kalem felt a glimmer of hope. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him going.