The Training Hall
The Practical Guidance Hall was wide and open, with smooth stone floors marked by faint glowing circles. Each circle was designed for a different element. Some were etched with flame symbols, others with wind spirals, stone runes, or flowing lines.
Students stood in groups, each holding a thin sheet of parchment.
Chant papers.
Rowan waved his paper like it might fly away."I swear, if I mess this up, it's because the paper isn't working"
Mira snorted. "You're nervous."
"I prefer excitedly terrified."
Euryale glanced at his own hands.
Empty.
_____________________________
Master Halen stood at the front, posture straight, expression serious.
"Magic," he said, "requires structure."
He tapped his staff lightly against the floor.
"Chants exist to focus intent. Without them, magic becomes unstable, emotional, and dangerous."
Several students nodded.
"You will not attempt magic without a chant," Master Halen continued. "This is not a suggestion."
Euryale lowered his gaze slightly.
Not in defiance.
Just in understanding.
______________________________
One by one, students stepped into the circles.
A fire-element girl raised her chant paper and spoke carefully.
A flame appeared above her palm.
It flickered wildly, then snapped too high.
She yelped.
Master Halen struck the floor once with his staff.
The flame vanished.
"Control," he said calmly. "Again."
A wind student sent a gust forward—too strong. Papers flew everywhere.
Rowan chased his chant down the hall."I swear I didn't tell it to do that!"
Laughter rippled through the room.
_________________________
When Euryale's name was called, the atmosphere shifted.
"He doesn't have a chant."
"Did he forget it?"
"Or does he think he's above the rules?"
Euryale stepped into the circle.
Master Halen frowned slightly.
"You are missing your chant paper," he said.
"I don't need one," Euryale replied softly.
The room went silent.
Master Halen's eyes sharpened.
"Everyone needs one."
Euryale hesitated—then nodded.
"I understand."
And then—
He breathed.
Euryale did not chant.
Did not gesture.
Did not raise his voice.
The air around him responded anyway.
Mana moved smoothly—quiet, steady, obedient.
The circle beneath his feet glimmered briefly.
Then faded.
Nothing broke.
Nothing exploded.
Nothing resisted him.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Someone whispered, "That… wasn't a chant."
Master Halen stared.
Disbelief
"That was coincidence," Master Halen said sharply.
A few students nodded quickly, relieved.
"You will do it again," he continued, stepping closer."And this time, properly."
Euryale bowed his head.
"Yes, Master."
He closed his eyes.
Breathed once more.
The same result.
Clean.
Controlled.
Effortless.
The glow returned—stronger this time.
Still no chant.
Still no chaos.
Master Halen took an involuntary step back.
Shock
"That's… impossible," someone murmured.
Master Halen raised a hand.
The hall froze.
He studied Euryale carefully now—not as a student, but as a phenomenon.
"Do it again," he said quietly.
Euryale did.
Perfectly.
Master Halen lowered his staff.
For the first time, his voice lacked certainty.
"…You were not trained with chants."
"No, Master," Euryale replied.
_____________________________
"That's unfair!"
"He's showing off!"
"He must've had private tutors!"
A fire-element boy scoffed. "Anyone can skip rules if they're rich."
Rowan blinked. "I don't think rich people look that tired."
Mira nodded. "Or that calm."
Master Halen turned to the class.
"Enough."
Silence fell instantly.
_____________________
"Chants are tools," Master Halen said slowly."Not crutches."
His gaze lingered on Euryale.
"You will still use one," he added. "For now."
Euryale bowed. "Yes, Master."
But something had shifted.
The lesson continued.
Yet eyes followed Euryale everywhere.
Some with admiration.
Some with jealousy.
Some with resentment.
In the corridor, the whispers returned.
"He cheated."
"He didn't even follow instructions."
"He shouldn't be here."
Lucien stood near the window, arms crossed.
When Euryale passed, Lucien spoke calmly.
"You didn't break the rule," he said.
Euryale met his gaze briefly.
"I wasn't trying to do anything."
Lucien smiled faintly. "That's what makes it dangerous."
That night, Euryale sat by the stream beneath his window.
He thought of home.
Of Ma's steady hands.
Of Pa's quiet lessons.
He had learned long ago that power didn't need noise.
Willowwand Academy was beginning to learn the same.
Whether it liked it or not.