Something shifts through the room. Hard to tell if it’s awe or fear. Serrane, the creepy guru in white robes everyone here treats like a living god—and he can read Threads? That’s a thing? That’s real? Of course it is. Because this place wasn’t unsettling enough already.
Holloway doesn’t pause long. “And Mirroring?” he prompts. “Anyone?”
This time, someone speaks up more quickly.
“It’s… defensive? Against other people’s magic?”
“Correct,” he replies, stepping to the edge of the stage. “Mirroring uses specific materials that can take Threads and reflect them back at the sender.” He rests his hand on the lectern. “But these aren’t items you pick up at the market. They’re scarce, dangerous to source, and they don’t last forever. With each use, their power dulls; time itself eats at them. Most were forged from dragon shells, and since they were exiled beyond the peaks, we’ve had no reliable access to such materials. What remains is dwindling, fragile, more relic than resource.”
The next hour continues in a similar way, more terms, the odd diagram, I try to keep up, taking notes. Ezzy giggles when she catches me repeating the tricky parts or stumbling over the confusing words out loud, but it’s the only way I’ll remember. Still, plenty of it slips past me. There’s so much I still don’t know.
At last, Holloway closes his book with a firm snap. “Now, before you go, please collect your report cards from the front. They outline your performance last semester and highlight the areas where you’ll need to focus. They’re organised alphabetically in this file.” He pats the folder waiting on the desk.
Ezzy’s practically glowing, itching to get down to the front, while Finn slumps deeper in his chair like he’d rather disappear, but Rowan forces him up, and we join the line of cadets shuffling forward.
As each envelope is torn open, the air fills with a mess of reactions—groans, cheers, the occasional curse. Grades, scores, whatever metric they’re using. Maybe they’re even tallying how many cadets you’ve managed to kill.
Ezzy finds hers first, frowns, then mutters something sharp about her Air grade not being perfect before stuffing it away. Finn glances at his, shrugs, and smirks like he couldn’t care less, and Rowan barely reacts at all—either not surprised or too unbothered to show it.
Then it’s my turn. A, B, Bloom. Lyra Bloom, Second-Year Cadet, Air Realm.
I already know it’s going to suck.
Offensive Magic:
Air: Strong. Unfocused, emotionally volatile.
Water: Functional. Unfocused, emotionally volatile.
Earth: Potential.
Fire: Dormant.
Thread Theory:Failing
Thread Ethics and Treaty Alignment: Failing
Non Magical Combat: Pass
Overall Thread assessment:
Instinctual but unrefined. Urgent need for stabilisation.
I’m not surprised, but seeing it on paper still bruises the ego.The others start heading towards the door, Rowan pauses, turning to me.
“Lunch, you coming?” he asks.
I look down at my report card. “No, go on ahead. I’m going to hang back and talk to Professor Holloway about my grade.”
Rowan nods once, and the three of them slip out with the rest of the crowd as I look for Holloway. He’s off to the side, hunched over a desk in the corner of the stage, blue robes pooling at his chair, the matching coloured hat shadowing his head while his pen scratches across the page. His focus is fixed, unwavering, until my footsteps drag his attention up and he smiles.
“I need help,” I say, smiling politely while I hold out my report card to him. “This whole instinctual, unrefined, urgent need for stabilisation part. I want to fix it...please.”
He chuckles. “Yes. I thought as much. Lyra, your magic is strong, just like your mother’s. No one doubts that. But right now, it only listens when your emotions shout.”
My jaw tightens because he’s not wrong. “Then how do I fix it? How do I make it listen without… that? I’m already so far behind. Everyone else has had years’ worth of training. How am I supposed to catch up?”
“Yes, well, that's the problem,” he nods, “you will need additional support. I had considered pairing you with Ezrelia. She’s precise, patient. But her schedule this term is rather full. Too many extra studies already on her shoulders.” His mouth tugs sideways. “So, I asked Cadet Beth Malven, and she happily volunteered to work with you instead. She will also push you in ways Ezrelia cannot—make you reach deeper, challenge you to bring forward the power you’ve buried.”
