The room was a lot larger on the inside, as was the structure itself. The notion that an entire city could be packed within a single building was new to Palag. Now that he had the limiting echo removed from his awakening realm, he was able to remember many things that had taken place on the cloud fort he was born on. Clouds had the ability to change shape, as well as expand and contract at will, but they couldn’t compare to what magic had achieved.

“You’ll get used to it,” the mage said, floating in front of the series of windows at the far end of the room. “In a few weeks, you won’t even notice.”

Lines of purple light were everywhere, running along the surfaces of everything like glowing threads.

“What will I do here?” the boy asked.

“What do you expect?” The mage let out a dry laugh. “Study. That’s what the Academy is for. You have magic, which means you’ll learn how to use it sooner or later. The Academy’s task is to make sure you don’t kill yourself while learning.” He looked at Palag over his shoulder. “Or kill others.”

The fury turned pale. It had become a lot clearer why the Order had agreed to give him up so easily. It wasn’t so much for his benefit, but for theirs. Palag’s meddling with unsupervised Moon-given magic probably risked hurting people, even destroying the monastery itself.

“Don’t worry, though. You’ll go through a lot of additional training before you tackle magic. People are aware of your circumstances, so they’ll give you a bit more leeway.”

“Even if I’m a fury?”

The magus turned around.

“Good to see you’re finally asking the important question.” Argus smiled. “I won’t lie to you. Many aren’t happy with what your kind attempted. Trying to take on the emperor is folly, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t cause enough chaos. However, even those that despise won’t dare harm you. The bond of magic is strong. It’s rare that other races receive the gift, especially non-humans. You’ll be given every opportunity to rise among the ranks. What you do with that opportunity is up to you.”

And study Palag did. At first, it was slow and difficult. What had been started at the monastery was continued at a neck-breaking pace. A week was deemed more than adequate for him to learn all the intricacies of human reading, writing, and advanced vocabulary, not to forget several other disciplines. In order to achieve the impossible, mage Argus had given the fury a library ring—a realm containing more scrolls and books than a normal person could read in a lifetime. And to assist the studying process, an echo was also placed there. Unlike the limiting echo of the Order, this one acted as a tutor, giving tasks and being strict about it. Also, the echo belonged to the very same mage that had brought him here.

Weeks of true time passed, then months. Palag felt stretched to such a degree that it gradually became his standard existence. The real world was only used to eating, drinking, sleep and necessary bodily functions. Everything else was done in the awakening realms.

In a single year, the fury had learned the history of the realm, the Academy, three separate languages—including nymph and dryad—as well as mathematics, scores of bestiaries, and enough combat to know what to do in a fight. However, he hadn’t been taught a single spell.

One day, Palag got tired of waiting. Making his way through the corridors of the learning hall, he walked to the building of mage Argus Tisaku and walked in. Three apprentices were present in the outer lobby. All of them looked at the boy, though no one stopped him in any way.

“I was wondering when you’d get the guts to come here,” Argus’ voice came from the walls themselves. “Slightly disappointing. I had hoped you’d be here months ago.”

“You could have told me, mage,” Palag said in a calm tone. “When you told me I’d have a lot to learn, I expected part of it to be magic.”

“You think you’re ready to learn magic?”

“It’s the only thing I can learn. I’m a level one. I cannot increase my awakening level without losing my magic. And with the number of improvements I could do per day, it would be decades before I increase my traits through achievements.”

“Number of improvements?” The mage emerged on top of the lobby’s staircase. “You can only do one.”

“Only if I don’t draw in magic from my surroundings. When I absorb enough threads, I can do up to five.”

One of the apprentices choked in his attempt to stifle a laugh.

“Five? Well done. But yes, not enough to grant you many achievements.”

Palag gritted his teeth. If he were a noble, he’d be level ten by now, possibly even level twenty. It didn’t take him long living in the Academy to see how the world worked. Noble families would use their wealth and power to boost the magic traits of their children through trinkets or “gifts” from less prosperous apprentices. Once enough were amassed, they’d have the children boost the awakening level to whatever point it was deemed appropriate. The library echo had even mentioned a way that could skip the process entirely, resulting in a noble child gaining ten levels of awakening without decreasing their magic trait. If Palag were to try, though, he’d lose his single level of magic and with that, his place at the Academy.

“You really feel ready?”

The fury nodded.

“Alright. Come here.”

Knowing what was to follow, Palag floated above the ground—mimicking the general behavior of his mentor—and made his way up the staircase. One thing was needed for him to be officially considered the apprentice—the same thing that would take part of his freedom away: the novice seal. The intricate brand of magic would remain on his skin until the day he gained enough skill and power to remove it from himself, thus graduating to apprentice.

Minutes later, the boy was given a new schedule. Learning in the ring's realm was no longer considered enough. In addition to that, he had to start going to classes with other novices to learn the basics of magic.

The first moment he set foot in class, Palag could barely contain his joy. It was as if he had finally reached the prize he had longed so long for. It was only after a few hours that he found out how boring it all was. The vast secrets of magic remained just as far away as before. The single topic of study were trivialities he had learned in the ring library months ago. The only difference was that this time, he had been handed artefacts to help build up his magic, and build it up, Palag did.

Within a week he had already boosted his magic trait to five, promoting him to a rank two novice. He was quickly moved to a different class, where he had to learn slightly more complicated topics. That also wasn’t remotely challenging. By the end of the month, the fury was already a rank three, focusing on spells many times more complicated than the rest of his class. Yet, no matter how many times he asked his mentor to allow him to join apprentice classes, he was denied.

Meanwhile, his rapid advancement had increasingly become the subject of envy. Normally, when a novice displayed excellence, they were praised by others. Either due to his nature, or his distant attitude, that didn’t hold true for Palag. Nearly no one spoke to him, and those that did only insulted him. No one dared to enter into a fight—Palag’s natural magic was more than enough to deal with any novice and even a few apprentices.

The only mild amusement came from completing training trials. That was an area the fury excelled at. Regardless if he had to face a vortex guardian or solve a riddle, Palag would breeze through, increasing his magic trait in the process. Once he reached the twenty-limit barrier, he lost interest in that as well.

Gradually, he started going less and less to class until, at one point, he stopped going altogether. There was no punishment—learning remained a voluntary process, especially for one who had excelled above everyone else.

People started to notice. Rumors started spreading that he had removed his seal, lost his magic, or been punished for unspecified crimes. After a full week, mage Argus went to his room for a visit.

A portal of purple emerged on one of the room’s walls, through which the figure of the mage slowly floated in. This time, he allowed himself to touch the ground with his feet.

“They say you’ve removed your seal,” the mage said, looking in Palag’s general direction. “Is it true?”

The fury raised his right arm so that his fist was clearly visible. There were no marks on it.

“Impressive. I would have thought it would take you a few more years.”

“The seal was flawed.” Palag replied. “You didn’t cast it on my skin. I still unraveled it.”

“An easy task for someone used with natural magic. They say that fury mages were second only to nymphs.” A smile cracked across Argus’ face. “Or copyettes. Glad to see you aren’t one of them.”

This caught Palag’s attention.

“The copyettes were banished,” he said.

“Were they?”

“It said so in the library ring.”

“A lot of things are said, not all are true.” He took a step closer. “It’s said that a novice who removes his brand is made an apprentice. Do you feel like one?” Another step. “It’s also said that the fury leaders had come with an agreement with the first Tamin emperor never to fight each other. Did that stop you from attacking?”

Threads of blue emerged from the mage, spreading throughout the room. It wasn’t a spell that Palag was familiar with. There didn’t seem to be any hand gestures, or even the slightest of movement. It was as if the mage knew a different way of casting spells.

Within seconds, a mesh of blue had surrounded the room, like a prison.

“You don’t like it here, do you?” the mage asked. “You didn’t like the monastery and didn’t like the order.”

Palag crossed his arms. He couldn’t say he hated it, but he didn’t particularly like it, either. Most of all, though, he disliked the emperor. Without a limiting echo to quell his anger, the boy hated what had happened to him because of the war.

“You don’t like mages, do you?” The mage was standing no more than a foot away.

“They destroyed my home.” They destroyed my family.

“Then why don’t you destroy them?” The questions were shocking in an alluring sort of way. “The Academy is strong, and so is the empire, but cracks are forming. For now, they’re too small to be noticed, but it’s inevitable that they’ll grow. You’ve read the scrolls I gave you. Every few generations, a group gains enough power to rebel against the emperor.”

“And they all fail.”

“Correct. However, that’s only because the pillars of the empire were there to protect him. The archdukes, the imperial army, and most of all, the Academy have been there to prop him up when needed. But, tell me, what will happen if the Academy falls?”

Cold exaltation swept through Palag’s body. It was almost too good to be true.

“You’re planning to destroy the Academy?”

“It’s not as difficult as one would think. This place is a nest of vipers that are at each other’s throats. Sooner or later, an opportunity will arise, and when it does, people like me will take advantage. The bigger question is the side you will choose.”

The offer was worth considering. One could almost consider it a trap, if Palag was significant enough to be trapped. Yet, if the offer was true…

“What do you want me to do?”

“Take this.” The mage handed Palag a small metal bead.

“What is it?”

“Just a piece of metal. There’s a symbiotic echo. The moment you link your realms, it will become a permanent guest.”

“Like the one the monastery gave me…”

“No, not like the one from the monastery. This one will let you take advantage of all my knowledge, which means you’ll be able to cast all the spells I know, in addition to your own.”

All the spells, you know? That was a lot of knowledge—a lot of power.

“There’s just one catch. The echo allows me to keep an eye on you, and if you try anything, I’ll take you over like a puppet. A little insurance on my part.”

It was more than a little insurance, but ultimately it didn’t matter. It would give Palag everything he wanted. It was all just a matter of time.