The next two weeks of Restoration and Alchemy’s orientation were spent trying to learn as much as I could about casting. Thanks to the reluctant help of the school’s resident non-heir, I finally understood what Master Cedric had been saying.
I was also painfully aware of the warning we’d received on that second day of training: that the skill would not be something I could master “in a day, or even years.” It was a very ominous thought, and it plagued my every waking moment. I became consumed with practicing the meditation exercises whenever I could. It didn’t matter what time of day or where I was. I channeled visualization during walks to the armory, meals, and even once or twice during lessons when I had deemed the material irrelevant.
Unfortunately though, as I had learned from my time thus far, every choice had a consequence, and it was clear as night and day that my newfound hobby had put an unavoidable cramp in the rest of my routine. I no longer participated in any of the lectures, and I had started to copy Ella’s answers to most of the math. It wasn’t ideal, but it was either that or muck out the stables each night.
“Whatever it is you think are doing,” Master Isaac had said to me when I handed him the latest assignment, “I’d rethink the decision carefully. Ignorance will not save you at the end-of-year trials.” My response had been a blank stare of innocence.
The master’s crinkled frown did little to assuage my guilt. I was not fooling anyone.
It was even worse with Master Cedric, who had yet to see me succeed in a single one of his sessions. I fumbled through the two weeks of Restoration and Alchemy with the grace of a stupefied pigeon. It was true that I could finally cast, but since I had not devoted any time to the study of human malady and combustive potion-making, I had no way of casting a successful projection to invoke my magic in the first place. You had to know what it was you wanted to cast, and I hadn’t the slightest idea.
I wanted desperately to show my masters I was trying, just not in those first two factions.
Fortunately, there was one individual I did not have to worry about disappointing.
Since anything Sir Piers taught was applicable to Combat, I had made it a point to keep up my devotion to his lessons, and I used them as the training ground for the visualization techniques I had been learning thus far.
I began to notice every little detail during our drills, whether we were heaving large sacks of grain or hurling heavy jugs filled with sand at targets impossibly far off: “For those pesky inferno flasks you Alchemy mages are so fond of,” Piers had noted. I made it a point to study the way the actions affected my senses. I scrutinized what others were doing that made them throw further, pull faster.
As soon as I had formed a good impression in my mind, I began to cast out my magic and use it to magnify my own attempts.
Often, I was too exhausted in the midst of performing to actually utilize my powers. But there was once or twice when I was tossing a flask, and it worked, making my vial land farther than my throw alone.
The best practice, of course, was my self-imposed training after the evening meal. Alex stayed behind with the study group, but Ella had made a habit of joining me since she too had little need to take in all the “useless material of the other factions.” Granted, it wasn’t useless, but it certainly seemed to us given the time we had available.
During those practices I told her about Darren and how I had finally learned to cast. Ella couldn’t believe the non-heir had helped me, and to be honest, neither could I. I rationalized that it must have been a stroke of madness, or extreme confidence that I was too weak to constitute a threat.
Though she tried as any friend might, Ella couldn’t argue with the latter. We both knew the two of us were leagues behind Darren in terms of magic.
In any case it was in no small part due to Ella that I picked up the basics of fencing a lot faster than the staff. By the end of our second week’s orientation, I was confident enough to try my hand at casting with the sword during our evening practice.
The first time I was in the midst of holding guard when I missed an obvious indicator for Ella’s next swing. My shoulder should have been red and smarting all evening, but as I realized my mistake I cast out a projection for the correct defense. Her blade hit a second sword hovering just above my arm, the familiar zing of metal on metal ringing in both our ears.
After that, I used the move every chance I got. It was as if I had a blade in both hands, and while I was not savvy by any means, I was certainly gaining momentum. Ella had even started using her own magic, figuring if I was brazen enough to cast and parry without a true grasp of swordplay I deserved any injuries I got.