"What does it truly mean to be 'conceptual magic'? Anyone?" Professor Quin started his class.
"Magic that's based on abstract ideas," answered a girl sitting ahead.
"Try again." Professor replied, eyeing the students with amusement.
"Magic that has no rules."
Waldon looked behind to see the owner of the voice. A boy wearing standard school robes completely buttoned up, the first Waldon had seen. His navy-blue hair was combed backwards with a few lose strands danging in front of his eyes.
Professor motioned his hand to the boy.
"Bladel, Olmer Bladel," he said with a thin smile that made his charcoal eyes sink deeper.
"As Mr. Bladel has said, Conceptual Magic has no rules or specifically, it has no barriers." Professor turned around towards the black board.
The chalk floated to his hands with which he started writing in bold words.
MANA, IMAGINATION, INSTINCT
"Ingrain these in your heads if you want to reach prominence through this field!"
"So, let's look at our line-up once again. Rich kid from uptown, general course George—"
"Hey!" Roland called out with a fake puppy eyes.
"And the only guy who couldn't get through the first test of their course in the entire school! And let me repeat, you want to go try a dungeon." Isolde looked at the three boys thrice each.
"I am enough for everyone's safety," Lucius said as he puffed up his chest and straightened his back.
"Come on… It will be fine! The instructors assured us," said Waldon while trying his best to not let his smile fall down.
"Uh huh," Isolde looked at his soul, judgingly.
"Whatever, if you guys want to be oversized chicken poop, be my guest!" Isolde dismissed them dramatically and headed out the canteen.
"Don't listen to masculine Lucius. It's gonna be fun!"
They got up as Lucius said something about how the lower class will never understand high society. Waldon tuned out his rambling and kept walking forward with his eyes straight down the corridors.
Summoning was a disaster to say the least. Every summoner was given a wool ball, they were tasked to get it inside their mana core and summon it back.
Waldon got the first part but is now a ball of wool as big as his palm, stuck inside his core! He has been experiencing lesser mana levels the whole week…
He sighed deeply and turned the knob, welcomed by the sight of his messy room. Deciding to sleep on the issue.
Waldon opened his eyes to a world of myriad colors.
Translucent grass, luminous clouds of gas floating all around him — all vividly different colors.
The sight made him dizzy and nauseous. His body reacted on its own and tried hurling out the contents of his stomach.
Nothing came out no matter the gagging.
Whispering voices of reached him. He frantically looked around with trembling eyes in search of them.
The voices seemed to become louder once Waldon looked at a cyan tree.
Waldon inched closer, mesmerized, the whispers turned into hyms of an ancient song.
He brought its hand to touch one if its fallen leaves. Its veins glowed bright neon.
His finger made contact, the surface rippled as if sending waves through the grand ocean.
Waldon thought his eyes were playing a jest on him as his hand started disappearing into the world inside the leaf.
Gasping, he woke up straight.
Waldon wiped off the sweat on his face. What an odd dream…
He pulled off the blanket to make his way to the washroom.
His heart leaped up a mile when he noticed the wool ball falling to the ground with a thump.
The sound of his footsteps echoed through the silent corridors.
Waldon ran with half excitement and half fright.
He was heading towards the infirmary first.
Well, firstly, he felt a stinging pain before his sternum. Lastly, he wanted to get the nurse to put to magic him asleep.
Waldon doubted his issue was something that could wake up Professor Quin in the middle of the night.
The infirmary was lit up warmly, a start contrast to the frosty hallways.
He laid down on the empty bed as commanded by Mrs. Miller. Darkness welcomed him as soon as the tip of her staff tapped his head.