Professor Strom granted me a rare smile. “Thatisa possibility. Good thinking, Miss Bea.” He turned to the rest of the class as I slid down in my seat in an attempt to hide under my desk. “It depends on the skill of the caster. It might seem to not use any components, but Water magic can pull out the vapor from the air. However, a sufficiently skilled mage can use his mana tocreatewater. It’s the foundation of Creation magic.”
He made the orb vaporize. “And to answer the question, I used my mana.”
Great, way to emphasize my defiant answer. I pouted a little.
The rest of the class was the professor teaching us the correct gesture and incantation for Form Water, while a bowl of water was on our desk. Dahlia got it on her first try. “I had training at home,” she said. Claude and Elias succeeded after a few tries, while I could barely hold the orb shape together before it broke apart again.
Casting a spell was fascinating. With every movement of my hands, and the words spoken from my lips, I could feel the pull of mana from my body attaching to the water, trying to shape it. I knew I was doing it right, but there must be something else I was missing. Was it possible myoutsiderstatus was affecting my magic?
The class ended with no further progress for me. But now that I knew the gesture and the chant, I could probably practiceit at my dorm. This was a good way to test my magic capability. After all, if I couldn’t even cast a basic Water spell, what chance did I have with Teleportation?
“Miss Bea, a word.” Professor Strom made me stay behind again while Dahlia waggled her eyebrows at me. I shot her a glare while Claude and Elias lingered and had to be pulled out by my friend.
This was great. I could return his coat.
When it was only the two of us, I stood by while he leaned his hips on his desk, looming over me. “Is there something wrong, Professor?”
“I noticed your spellcasting,” he started, folding his arms over his chest. “You're doing the gestures and the chant perfectly, but the orb doesn’t hold.”
Exactly the same as my observation.
“Maybe I don’t have enough mana to pull it off?” It wouldn’t be unheard of; Lady Valeria, Vincent’s older sister, was one of the more famous examples. But of course I didn’t want that for myself — I needed a fuckton of mana to cast a successful Teleportation.
“No, I can —” He paused in the middle of a sentence before catching himself. “You have the mana. Something else is interfering. Internally is my guess.”
Oh, fuck.Was I right in my theory? Did somehow being literally out of this world affect my magical capabilities?
“A block …” he murmured, studying me. “Bea, where did you learn how to defend against Psychic magic?”
The who-what-now?
“Judging by your expression, you don't know what I’m talking about,” he mumbled solemnly. “Psychic magic is already a rarity in this realm. To form defenses against it is even rarer. My suspicion: the same factor that lets you block against Psychic magic is disrupting your own magic.”
That was a fair theory, but one detail stood out to me. “Why do you think I have defenses against Psychic magic?”
He was silent for a few moments, his brown eyes darting everywhere on my face. And then he sighed, clinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “This is well-kept information. My Unique is Telepathy. It lets me read thoughts and communicate through the mind only, and it doesn’t work on you.”
Oh, my god. I didn’t realize it was possible to have telepaths! Not a piece of literature had mentioned it so far. I had read about Psychic magic though, like the ability to Command someone or alter their mood, but not outright telepathic conversations.
“Did the communication work both ways?” I wondered.
“In a way, yes,” the professor answered, a light cheeriness in his voice. “Since I can read thoughts. I send you a message telepathically and you respond through your mind, which I will read. Very convenient.” He bit his lip before adding, “If it actually worked on you.”
The way he bit his lip distracted me for a second, becauseholy shitnobody had the right to look that good while biting their lip. Blinking out of my trance, I looked back into his eyes. “I don’t know if there’s any block. I don’t feel weird or different.”
Lies.It was a good thing he couldn’t hear my thoughts.
He tapped a finger on his forearm, and I only just noticed he had taken his coat off at some point during our practice and rolled up his sleeves. I could see the veins on his arms as his muscles flexed with his movements, oddly erotic.
Gettingwetfor a professor wasn’t proper, but hell if I cared if it was only in my mind.
Professor Strom cleared his throat, and I moved my gaze back to his face again. “That’s something we have to figure out,” he murmured, his voice lowering. “It won’t do well for your future as a mage.”
He was right. “Should I take extra classes under you, professor?”
His eyes lowered to where my hands were clutching the straps of my satchel. I couldn’t help but feel extra conscious of how he studied my every movement. “Under me, yes,” he chuckled lowly, and the delicious sound shot directly to my clit.
It wasn’t my imagination only — that was an innuendo, right? If so, how totally inappropriate. But I didn’t give a fuck.
