Erend lay sprawled across the bed, the sterile white ceiling of the military facility above him catching the faint light of the lamp by his side.
The hum of the ventilation system was steady, almost lulling to his tired body.
After an entire day of drilling soldiers on the manual Adrius and Lysander had compiled about the basic but essential steps for grasping the foundation of Magic, his body finally felt the weight of exhaustion.
It was strange for them and he knew it. Soldiers born in a world that had never known Magic now sitting cross-legged in underground chambers trying to channel forces they couldn't understand yet.
Their brows furrowed, sweat dripping, frustration thick in the air every time the manual asked them to "feel the currents."
The theory wasn't difficult at all to understand. The practice, however, was like teaching someone to breathe underwater.
Progress came in small sparks—sometimes literally—but it was progress all the same.
