Vel reached the academy grounds, finding them unusually quiet compared to the bustling atmosphere of the testing days. Most applicants had returned home to await their results, leaving only staff and a few lingering visitors.
"Where was her office again?" he muttered, consulting the directions given to him earlier that morning.
After navigating several corridors, Vel found himself in a section of the academy he hadn't visited before. Dark, carved wooden panels replaced the usual stone walls, their glossy surface catching the afternoon light.
Vel checked the nameplate beside the door—Instructor Lyvenna Thalassan—and raised his hand to knock.
Three solid taps later, a clear voice responded from within.
"Enter."
He pushed the door open to find Lyvenna's office filled with bookshelves, worn tomes, and labeled jars. Crystals on the windowsill sent colorful reflections across the ceiling.
"Good afternoon, Instructor," Vel said, standing just inside the doorway.
Lyvenna looked up from her parchment and gestured to a chair across from her desk.
"Sit," she instructed.
She rose to retrieve a tea set from a side table, moving with the deliberate precision Vel had noticed during the entrance testing. The careful arrangement suggested she had prepared specifically for this meeting.
"Did you have any trouble finding this place?" she asked, pouring a steaming amber liquid into both cups.
"Not really," Vel replied, watching the steam rise from his cup.
A slight smile touched Lyvenna's lips.
"You'd better get used to it, because you'll be coming here quite often... When you get accepted, that is."
The casual confidence in her tone made Vel straighten slightly.
"Speaking about getting accepted..."
Lyvenna set down her cup, her expression shifting to something more formal and serious. She settled back into her chair, folding her hands on the desk before her.
"I called you here today because there's something important to discuss. According to your performance in all three entrance tests..."
She paused, the momentary silence amplifying the weight of her words.
"I can tell you that you've passed—and your performance stands out even among unstable candidates. In all my years teaching this group, I've rarely seen results like yours."
Vel tried to maintain a neutral expression, though a flicker of relief passed through his eyes.
"Which brings me to why I called you here. Given your abilities—and your connection to Saint Landre—I could arrange for you to join the standard classes instead."
Vel's brow furrowed, his posture stiffening.
"Wait—did I pass because of my sister?"
"No," Lyvenna replied firmly, raising a hand.
"You passed on your own merits and abilities. But after Saint Landre's visit... Let's say some people wish for you to be out of the unstable group. Arrangements can be made for you to study with the standard students instead."
The offer lingered between them. Vel's gaze shifted to the window, the training yard visible in the distance—where he and Tomas had fought during the entrance exam. He recalled Tomas's determination, Mira's quiet resilience, and the other unstable students bound by their shared label of inadequacy.
Accepting the offer meant leaving them—those who had begun to trust him. It was practical, but it felt wrong, like quitting a puzzle just as it started to make sense.
Lyvenna watched him intently, cataloging every subtle shift in his expression. She didn't rush him, didn't attempt to influence his decision. She simply waited, curious about what kind of person Velarian Novalance truly was.
Vel already had an answer forming in his mind, but he held it back. Instead, he met her gaze directly and asked a question of his own.
"May I ask why you were assigned to our group?"
His voice was careful, measured.
"Sorry if I'm stepping over boundaries, but you seem to have a lot of experience with...'unstable' attunements."
The question caught Lyvenna off guard. She set down her teacup with deliberate slowness, a flicker of something—surprise, perhaps respect—crossing her features. The silence stretched for several heartbeats before she responded.
"Keen eye."
She studied him with renewed interest.
"Would you let a blacksmith teach a farmer? Or a noble teach a commoner? I am here because I'm meant to be here."
Vel leaned forward slightly, understanding dawning.
"You're saying you were also an unstable."
"'Were' isn't exactly the right word," Lyvenna replied with a hint of wryness in her voice.
She set her teacup aside and held her palm open between them. Her lips moved in a quiet incantation, the words too soft for Vel to catch completely. A small disturbance formed above her hand—particles of dust gathering, swirling, taking shape.
A miniature dust devil materialized on her palm, spinning with delicate precision. But Vel noticed immediately how it wavered and fluctuated, the edges of the vortex fraying as if fighting to maintain cohesion. Despite Lyvenna's obvious control and experience, the tiny whirlwind struggled to remain stable.
Vel watched, transfixed by the demonstration. This wasn't the clean, crisp magic displayed by the single-element students. There was something raw about it, something that spoke of conflict and compromise.
"Earth and Air," Vel murmured, recognizing the competing elements in her manifestation.
Lyvenna nodded, a hint of old pain briefly visible in her eyes.
"Earth and Air fighting for dominance. It took me years to be able to control these elements. Even now, my magic is still weaker than most normal mages."
She let the twister collapse, leaving only a thin film of dust on her palm, then blew gently across her hand. The dust particles danced in the air before they dissipated completely. Her hand returned to her teacup, fingers curling around it as if drawing comfort from its warmth.
"So that explains everything you said back in the entrance tests. You were speaking from your own experience, not just from studies."
Lyvenna took a slow sip of her tea before responding.
"Which is why I want you to consider the offer. If you think you have what it takes, it's better to leave the unstable group, for a better chance to receive proper teaching."
Vel's curiosity deepened.
"How did you come to control these elements?"
He leaned forward as he asked.
"Years of practicing the same incantation, building muscle memory. It's unpredictable at first, but you'll get the hang of it eventually."
Vel's brow furrowed. That didn't sound right. Not for the system he had designed. In Aeonalus, magic was absolute—spirit took command, consumed mana, then executed the spell. It wouldn't make sense for someone to repeat the same command until it worked.
But if that was the case... through all that repetitive practice, Lyvenna had somehow forged a communication pathway with the spirits. Not through traditional means, but through sheer dedication. A crude channel that worked, even if it remained weaker than normal magic.
There must be something more to it, something the Academy itself didn't understand about unstable attunements.
"So?" Lyvenna asked, watching his face closely.
Vel turned to her, not yet ready to give his answer about the transfer offer. Instead, another question formed in his mind.
"Instructor, what do you think would happen if someone were speaking two languages at the same time?"
He gazed at the ground as he asked.
Lyvenna's brow furrowed in confusion at the seemingly random question. She studied him for a moment, trying to discern his train of thought before responding.
"The sentences that came out wouldn't make sense. It would just be chaos of words."
"Chaos," Vel repeated silently, the word echoing in his mind.
Then a possibility struck him. Chaos. Could that be it? Why hadn't he considered this before?
Vel turned to Lyvenna with renewed intensity.
"Instructor, what do you know about the Chaos element?"
"Chaos?"
Her eyebrows raised in genuine surprise.
"I've never heard of it before."
"That's what I thought," Vel said to himself, pieces starting to form a pattern.
Chaos was the last element Giri had added into the magic system. Originally, there were only six, but the magic system hadn't made sense without Chaos. How else could the world explain the unpredictable patterns in nature?
During the attunement readings, none of the candidates had shown alignment with Chaos. It was completely absent from the Academy's understanding of elemental magic.
When Giri designed it, Chaos wasn't exactly a traditional element—it wasn't something you could "summon" alone. But what if it was there, unrecognized in Lyvenna and the other unstable students?
"Instructor, I've decided. I'd like to stay with the unstable group. I think I might understand what's actually happening."
Lyvenna tilted her head, her expression a mixture of confusion and curiosity. The frown that formed wasn't one of disapproval, but of someone encountering an unexpected puzzle.
"Are you sure? These offers rarely come. In fact, as long as I can remember, it has never happened before."
Vel nodded firmly, conviction evident in his posture. The path forward was clear to him now.
"What do you mean you understand?"
Lyvenna pressed, her interest clearly piqued.
"I can't tell you yet. I'll need to do some research first. Consider it my first personal project. As soon as I find out more, you will be the first one to know."
He had made this world, put these people into hardship because of something he designed. Now he needed to debug and fix it.
Lyvenna studied him for a long moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to see beyond his words. Finally, she nodded once, decisively.
"Very well. I'll inform the Archmagister of your decision. Your classes will begin in three days with the rest of the accepted students."
Her lips curved in a subtle smile.
"And Velarian? I'll be watching your 'personal project' with great interest."
Vel stood, giving her a respectful bow.
"Thank you for your time, Instructor. And for the tea."
As he turned to leave, he was already thinking about where to start his research. There had to be records about elemental theory somewhere in the Academy library.
But if his theory was right, they weren't unstable at all. They were something else entirely.