The bullying from our peers was just the first hurdle. The second, more frustrating one, was the magic itself.
Our first few days of class were a brutal reality check. While other students effortlessly conjured small sparks of light in their palms or made tiny objects levitate with a flick of their wrist, Eliza and I struggled. The magical energy felt foreign to me, like a river that refused to be tamed. The basic incantations felt like a jumble of nonsensical words.
In Elemental Control class, the professor asked us to perform a simple Luminos spell to create a small orb of light. One by one, students held out their hands, and a soft glow appeared, like fireflies held captive in their palms. When it was my turn, I focused with all my might, concentrating on the energy I felt buzzing in the air around me. My hand trembled, my brow furrowed with effort, but nothing happened. I felt a faint flicker of energy, but it sputtered out before it could even form a single spark.
"Concentrate, Ms. Sterling," the professor said, his tone devoid of emotion. "You must have the proper intent. Now, try again."
I tried again, and again, and again, until my hand felt numb and a knot of frustration tightened in my stomach. I saw Celeste and Marcus snicker from the front row, their perfect hands glowing with effortless light.
After class, Eliza and I were exhausted. While she seemed disheartened, I was simply furious.
"I can't do it, Kira," Eliza whispered, her voice heavy with disappointment. "It's not working. I don't think we have any magic in us."
"Don't say that," I snapped, pulling my books from my locker. "We're just behind. We're from the lower floors, remember? We didn't grow up with this."
But she was right. We were light-years behind. We didn't have parents who were magicians. We hadn't been taught how to channel energy since we were toddlers. The gap between us and the others wasn't just social—it was fundamental.
That evening, we skipped dinner to go to the academy library. The library was a circular, multi-storied building filled with a massive collection of magical texts. We sat at a small table, surrounded by piles of books, desperately trying to catch up. The complex diagrams and ancient runes swam before my eyes, but I forced myself to understand every single word. I wasn't just studying to pass a class; I was studying to get strong.
Eliza sighed, burying her face in her hands. "This is impossible. I'm so tired."
"We can't give up," I said, my voice low and firm. "We're here for a reason. Don't you remember? We have to find Leon. This is how we do it."
I saw the flicker of determination return to her eyes for a moment. But then it faded just as quickly.
"It feels like we're just hitting a wall," she said, her voice filled with despair.
I didn't answer. I just pushed a new book toward her and turned back to my own. I had to believe there was a way. I had to. If this academy was the only way to find my brother, then I would master every single spell, every theory, and every magical trick in this building. I would not fail.