I woke up before Agnes could wake me up.
I remembered what I saw last night. The realization washed over me in the sober light of morning. For a moment I lay still, watching the patterns light made across the ceiling. The armlet sat where Agnes had left it.
Yesterday, those dull rubies had been my saviour. Today, I was certain they were the rope around my neck.
I fastened it around my upper arm and felt the subtle tug as my magic gathered around it. The clustering was organized and mechanical.
There was no free lunch. I had to make my own way—somehow.
I flexed my fingers once and rose. Time to work.
Days passed. I asked no questions and received no answers.
The air in the dining hall felt sharper than usual. It was time for another Evaluation. I wondered if my intelligence was considered low or high. No one ever commented on it.
Sylvia sat across the hall. Her bald head was a daily reminder of my inabilities. She kept her gaze low but her head high. I could respect not hiding behind a scarf.
Agnes urged me to eat the fruit plate she prepared for me.
“Eat,” said the motherly liar.
“I am.”
She studied me briefly. “Slept well?”
“Yes.”
Two could play at this game.
I walked out of the evaluation chamber calmly and Agnes handed me my evaluation without protest.
--
OFFICIAL ARCANE EVALUATION RECORD
NAME: Mira
LINEAGE: Daughter of Elena, Daughter of Aldric
REGION OF REGISTRATION: Central Crown District
AGE: 4
CLASS DESIGNATION: Mage
?? CORE MAGICAL ATTRIBUTES
Magical Capacity: 1025
Magical Control: 8
Magical Efficiency: 62%
Stability Index: 21%
Resonance Signature: ***
Channeling Type: ***
?? ENERGY AFFINITIES
Elemental Affinity: None
Holy Power: 0
Ki: 2
Spirit: 0
Void Alignment: 0
?? COGNITIVE ATTRIBUTES
Intelligence: 124
Wisdom: 95
Focus: 76
Memory Retention: 88
Perception: 66
?? PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES
Strength: 14
Agility: 22
Dexterity: 31
Constitution: 32
Endurance: 19
?? SPECIAL DESIGNATIONS
Threat Assessment Level: S Tier
Crown Utility Index: S Tier
Apprenticeship Recommendation: Immediate Residential Oversight
Binding Risk Assessment: High
--
A genuine laugh bubbled out of me and I gave Agnes a hug. She picked me up and gave me a spin.
“You’re amazing, Mira.”
I really am.
When we showed the results to Master we were met with silence. He had to read the numbers twice.
“The capacity increase is quite a marvel,” he said.
“For my age?” I asked.
“For the magical world. Although the trade-offs…” he trailed off.
“But my control improved as well… what do you mean?”
He didn’t bother replying. I didn’t bother touching the hollow pipes. We were at an impasse.
“Your efficiency index has decreased. It’s not clear why.”
I connected to the grid. The only interruptions were from Agnes confirming whether I wanted to continue every ten minutes. I don’t know why she insisted when I always did at least an hour every day.
In the clearing I took the time to practice precise Air magic. I believe the setting was also improving my Constitution.
Agnes presented the book she got on Magical Cosmetology from the library. It was a tome larger than the introductory books I had received till now.
“The ingredients are for the most part simple: rosemary essence, gooseberry extract, peppermint essence,” she said.
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“Let’s make it then—what’s stopping us?” I remembered all those being quite good for hair growth.
“Mana concentrate is what binds them together. It’s what accelerates the growth. Depending on the concentration it can provide years of growth in minutes.”
“And?”
“It’s very expensive. It would take three months of my wages to buy even a small bottle—enough for one year of growth.”
“Wow.”
We sat in silence. My head rested on her lap. I reinforced a shield around us which dampened the sound of explosions. Not exactly soundproof, but enough to not be startled every other minute.
“How do they make it?” It came out as a whisper.
“A group of mages gather around a bottle of water and connect to a grid—the grid takes their magic and condenses it. The water is transformed into liquid mana concentrate.”
“…and this is that expensive?”
“Yes.”
It sounded all too similar to the job I did every day.
“Why is it so expensive?” I asked.
Her thin lips looked even more pinched.
“It’s risky. It requires many mages to drain their power.”
“I can make it easily…” I said.
“You’re already drained once a day. To be drained again like that— it’s too dangerous. No.”
I tried “please,” but unfortunately that was not enough for her to relent.
The next day the dining hall seemed livelier than ever. Curious mages approached me about my unprecedented growth. Agnes shut them down before I could stammer about draining and regenerating.
However, the mages were no fools. They had already clocked it was the draining making me more powerful.
One mage loudly proclaimed to anyone who was listening:
“Forced regeneration leads to the core becoming denser. This significantly increases capacity without affecting size. It’s exercise for the magical core.”
I thought the theory had teeth. At least, this is what seemed to be happening in my case as I was not physically growing significantly enough. I patted my belly idly.
When we reached the lab for the scheduled milking, a group of teens were making a ruckus—pestering the Master to let them drain individually. This should have been his best-case scenario, but he didn’t seem happy at all.
One of them emerged. His hair was the color of wheat. Dull yet golden.
“Master, I formally volunteer myself for solo draining. I fully understand the risks and accept them for the betterment of greater knowledge.”
The rest of the teens went quiet at his proclamation. Better him than them, right?
“Hazael…” Master paused and then continued more sharply. “State your last evaluation.”
“Capacity: 125. Control: 108. Efficiency: 90%. Stability: 85%.”
Across the board he was better than me. I massively mogged him on capacity, which was obviously the most important though. I nodded to myself.
Master quickly penned down a liability waiver and handed it to him.
“The standard safe boundary for your metrics is ten minutes,” Master said. “I recommend termination at eight.”
Hazael nodded.
“Full depletion carries risk of core destabilization,” Master continued. “Permanent capacity loss is possible. Mortality is unlikely but not impossible.”
The room was silent.
“Do you understand these risks?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you accept them?”
“Yes.”
Master sighed, looking older than his age.
“Sign then.”
Hazael signed his life away without hesitation. I never evven got the disclaimer.
Master filed the contract on his desk and tapped his foot once. The network of pipes unfurled.
Hazael pressed his palm against the socket. His body froze. I recognized the panic in his eyes. The grid guzzled everything if you didn’t close the tap.
The monitor numbers rose. Never even matching my lows.
One minute.
Two.
Three.
He stood tall.
Four.
Five.
Six.
His eyes started flickering. Blinking rapidly—and I wished Agnes could make it stop. He had blinked more than twice.
Seven.
“Seven minutes,” Master said. “We terminate at eight.”
However, eight never came for Hazael.
At just past seven minutes, he collapsed and started convulsing violently. His spine arched wildly and foam touched his lips. The grid automatically ejects at a certain threshold—when there is no more to take.
Agnes stepped forward instinctively.
“Hold,” Master snapped.
He was already kneeling.
“His core destabilized,” he muttered.
His fingers pressed to Hazael’s throat. His other hand traced a sigil that glowed faint blue against Hazael’s chest.
“O Father, breathe light onto your child.”
“O Mother, breathe light onto your child.”
The muttered spells continued until Hazael’s body stilled.
“Take him to the infirmary,” Master ordered.
The more mature apprentices hurried forward. They lifted his body carefully and carried him past me. His eyelids fluttered open for half a second. I saw no iris.
Master settled back into his chair slowly.
“You’re next,” he said.
I stepped forward, trying to feel confident in the enormous, unprecedented reservoir of magic I was blessed with. I took a deep breath and connected to the grid.
I instinctively limited what I provided.
Ten minutes passed.
“Blink twice if you’re in pain.”
The calm voice of Agnes didn’t reassure me. Every bit I provided felt heavier in the wake of what I knew now.
What if they didn’t disconnect me? I know they always had. I know Agnes said I could blink twice and we would stop.
But, what if.
Hazael was strong. He had more control than I could even dream of right now. His efficiency and stability percentage was no joke either. Yet he crumbled in eight minutes. Less than the time I got between health checks.
“Blink twice if you’re in pain.”
Thirty. What if I fell?
Forty. Would anyone mourn me?
Fifty. How could I disconnect on my own?
“Blink twice if you’re in pain.”
I kept my eyes open. I tried to cut it off.
