The road sloped downward. Dust rose under my feet, the sun beat against the back of my head. I walked alone.
The conversation was still going on inside me. Thoughts moved slowly, one after another.
In my world, things were arranged differently. There, murder was considered a crime, aggression a sickness, violence a defect. What here was part of everyday life, there was a mistake. At worst—a tragedy, the kind spoken about on the news.
I remembered what we were taught: seek agreement, don't impose yourself on others, respect personal space. Always try to resolve things with words.
But here—it was different. Death didn't frighten anyone. Murder wasn't an event, but a tool. The people I lived under the same roof with had already killed. And most likely, they would kill again. Not out of whim, but because survival allowed no other way.
No one would condemn them for it. No one would write a single line. No one would ask if it could have been otherwise.
Something struck sharp and deep in my head. A memory. An image that surfaced on its own.
Rain.
The sound of drops on jackets, on the ground, on asphalt. The gray sky pressing from above. And me. Tied to the school gates. My back bloody, fingers numb, mouth slightly open.
In front of me stood a crowd. Someone was filming. Someone laughed. Everyone watched. Not one person stepped forward. Not one asked what was happening.
And him.
Off to the side, under the awning. A clean jacket. Beside him—two others just like him. All with the same faces. He looked at me—not with hatred, no. With lazy interest. As if studying me. As if I were something amusing, but unimportant.
There was a faint smirk on his face. The smirk of someone who already understood everything. And I… I understood the least. I was trying to be kind. Trying to be polite. Trying not to argue. Trying not to get in the way.
And in return—this. In return—ropes on my wrists. Blood on my cheeks. Laughter.
A thought flashed through my mind. Bright. Sharp. If only then… If only I had the strength. If only I knew how. If only I had at least something.
The rain wouldn't be washing my blood away. It would be washing theirs.
Something stirred inside me.
At first quietly. Like a tremor in the gut. As if my whole body remembered what it was to be humiliated. To be broken. Like then. Like before. But now—it was something else.
Deeper.
If only I had the strength…
The thought snapped. Fell apart. Another one began, coarser. My throat tightened. My breath faltered. A heat burned under my ribs, as if someone inside whispered.
Mana began to quiver. As if it felt what my thoughts were leaning toward. As if it waited for me to take a step, and then it would follow.
Slowly. Precisely. To kill. To destroy.
"Haaa… haaa…"
I froze. My heart pounded, hammering into my throat. My hands shook. My legs held, but I wanted to sit. Or collapse. Or howl. My head grew cramped. Words tangled, clashed, felt foreign.
Blood… washing theirs away…
No. No, stop.
I clenched my teeth. Drew in a sharp breath. Pushed it away. That shadow, that whisper, that sense that I could. That I must.
But I really could…
Inhale.
Long. Slow. Through the nose. Just like Roxy taught. Don't let the body choose for you.
I ground my teeth. Drove it back. That wave rising from inside. That hatred so easily mistaken for justice. Sweet, always within reach. But I knew—once let loose, it would never stop.
Exhale.
The air came hard, but steady. My chest loosened a little. The sun pressed against the back of my head, sweat trickled down my neck. I kept walking.
***
Training ground.
Dry earth underfoot. Silence all around, only the wind sifting through the grass at the edges. I stood straight, my feet pressed firmly into the ground. My back tense. A wand in my hand. The red crystal at its tip pulsed as if it were breathing.
Symbols filled my head. One after another. Already familiar, no longer frightening. They arranged themselves, aligned in the right order. What once seemed scattered now had coherence. My lips moved on their own.
"Water. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become a stream. Answer my call..."
Warmth spread from my palm. The crystal glowed with a steady, saturated light. The spell's pattern came together precisely. I knew how the flow went. I could feel it.
There was a faint tremor in the air. Almost imperceptible. Then a droplet appeared. Space compressed. Mana gathered.
Materialization.
At first a glimmer, then a dense drop. Then more of them. They merged into a stream, slid downward, splashed softly against the ground.
I didn't move.
This was no longer control over water. No play with what nature had granted. Now I had created it myself, from nothing. This was materialization, a level far above simple elemental control.
I knew I had done it right.
Fire. Another element. Another sensation.
The flow of mana shifted. It became dry, hot, rapid. Heat surged from within, spread through my arms, and gathered in my palms. My breath grew warm. My fingers trembled from strained concentration. Fire obeyed.
The symbols in my mind turned sharp.
The rhythm became clipped. The inner response changed. Mana trembled, strained against control. It didn't want to obey—it wanted to burst free.
"Fire. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become flame. Burn at my call."
The crystal on the wand flared with a harsh, saturated glow. Heat coursed through my hand, no longer gentle. Scorching. Mana surged outward—thin, taut. I directed it. Held it.
Flash.
Flame burst from the air with a sharp crack. Bright and yellow. It blazed, but didn't stray.
Yet inside there was a tremor.
I felt it: if I let go for even a moment, it would break loose. But as long as I held it, it burned.
"Disperse," I said.
The flame flickered. A moment later it vanished without a trace. I shifted the wand. My lips whispered the next words on their own.
"Wind. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become a gust. Race at my call."
The response was instant. Mana whirled swiftly, as though eager to escape. I held it. Wind tore from nothing, swept across the ground, lifting dust, tossing my hair.
"Disperse."
It vanished in a single motion.
"Earth. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become stone. Move at my call."
The pressure grew. A heaviness crawled up from the depths. A chunk of earth appeared—exactly where my gaze fixed, as if waiting for the order. At once, the stone shuddered, cracked at the edges. I tightened the flow to keep the fracture from spreading.
"Disperse."
I stood still. My back was soaked. My heart hammered.
All four. Without failure.
"At last you're not trying to kill yourself with every method available," Roxy said, clapping her hands. "I was beginning to think you viewed magic as a form of suicide."
I turned. She stood at the edge of the grounds, arms crossed, face languid, but her eyes gleamed. As if she'd actually seen something.
"Today you didn't explode, didn't set yourself on fire, didn't fall through the ground. That's progress, Rudy. Real progress. Almost boring."
I wiped my forehead, trying not to smile. My body trembled from overexertion, but inside, it was different.
Roxy sighed, ran a hand over her face, and muttered almost to herself:
"A year… materialization of four elements. Fine… yeah. Just… slightly irritating."
She walked toward me slowly, her gaze fixed not on me but on the ground, as if the answer to why any of this was possible lay hidden there.
"I spent a whole year just learning to summon water. And you…"
She waved her hand dismissively.
I shrugged.
"Well… I try."
My face fought not to smirk. Inside, my pulse thudded quietly under the skin.
Roxy started walking off to the side. As if she just wanted to stretch. But there was something in her step. My gut tightened. A hunch.
I stepped aside.
"Shot."
In the same instant something hissed past my cheek. A sharp blue projectile burst in the air, scattering sparks.
"I see…" she said almost lazily, lips twitching into a smirk. "Shot."
"Shield."
The next shot came. My hand was already up, the shield flared in front of me, took the strike. It quivered but held. The energy dispersed without touching skin.
"Shot."
I lifted my wand, fired back—Roxy slid aside. Unhurried. As if she knew where I was aiming before I even thought of it.
The ground beneath my feet suddenly shuddered. I leapt back.
My foot came down—and slid sideways. The stone beneath it pulled out as if yanked away.
"Earth. Obey. Glide."
Roxy was already moving. She turned slightly, brushed her toe along the ground—the surface under my foot shifted like a bog. Balance gone. I flailed, tried to throw my weight—too late.
A tumble over the shoulder. Rough, clumsy, shoulder slamming the dirt.
"Shield."
Instinctive. The barrier burst up mid-roll, caught a light but perfectly aimed shot. It threw me back.
"At last," I heard her laugh. "Three more falls and you'll have your own signature technique."
"Shot." But she just stepped aside, and it sailed past.
"Come on, child of magic, impress me," said Roxy, brow raised. "Just don't kill yourself. I'd like to have my tea in peace."
She sidestepped, and in the same moment I raised my wand:
"Wind. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become a gust. Race at my call. Blind!"
The gust tore forward, struck straight at her face. I saw the grass bend flat beneath it.
Roxy didn't blink. She only dipped her chin, and the wind rushed past over her head as if in passing.
"Seriously? You thought you'd tickle me?"
"It was a distra—" I cut off, hand up. "—Shield!"
The shield flared before me, just in time. Her new shot was fast and direct. Like a whip crack. It slammed the center. The barrier trembled, but held.
I didn't wait. My own projectile shot for her chest. Her shoulder twitched, but she was already moving aside.
"Wooden," she scoffed. "Like a fencepost trying its hand at magic."
The ground under me jolted.
"Earth. Toss. Trip," Roxy snapped.
I jumped instantly. Not fast enough. A clod of dirt burst upward, clipped my sole, wrecked my balance. I landed awkwardly, but stayed up. Shield. Another shot. She slid away again—a casual sidestep.
"You know, you're not doing badly," she said, "aside from yelling your spells like a fishmonger."
"It's a training format!" I blurted, hurling another bolt.
"Of course. Training. A year of lessons and still your diction sounds like a church preacher… who taught you this?"
Shield. Shot. Shield.
"Wind. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become a gust. Race at my call. Blind!" Another attempt to catch her off guard. Another miss. She simply lifted her arm to shield her face and drifted back.
"Horrible. Way too long. By the time you finish reciting, I could cook dinner, eat it, sleep, and still dodge."
I was already gasping for air. Roxy hadn't even broken a sweat.
"Maybe… you… could teach me the shortened version?"
"Maybe…"
And another attack came.
"Earth. Rise. Block," Roxy intoned calmly, not even raising her voice.
I barely had time to lift my wand.
An explosion underfoot. Dust in my face. Grit in my mouth. My eyes squeezed shut on their own, my breath broke. I stumbled out of the cloud, coughing, squinting. Wind didn't help—it just whirled the dust around like some vicious little beast trapped in a jar.
"Wait…" I rasped, wiping my face.
Click.
Something hard struck my forehead. A snap. Sharp, with that crisp sound. My head jerked back, my leg faltered, and I dropped straight into the grass.
Roxy stood before me, her face utterly calm.
"One hundred and thirteen to zero…" she said.
"Progress though… makes a teacher tear up. Just a little. Almost."
I opened my mouth to reply, but the dust was still in my lungs—the cough instantly stole my breath. I tried to stand, only managed to shake my head, wiping my face.
A cold pillar of water crashed down from above, drenching me from head to toe. Clothes clung to my skin, hair plastered my face, water ran down my back. The shock of it jolted my body like I'd been plunged into ice.
"That was the warm-up. Now we can move on to something more serious…"
Roxy was already standing there, twirling her staff in her palm.
I froze.
Before my eyes—not the field, not the sun, not Roxy. That day. Five years ago. Words from a book. Mana I couldn't feel. Then the sudden cold in my hand. The roar of wind. The scar still running its length.
It had nearly cost me my arm.
I looked at Roxy but saw the flash. The blade of air. Skin split to blood. The smell of my own flesh.
Roxy tensed. Lifted a brow. She understood.
"Hey," she said evenly. "That won't happen again. I'm here. You're not pulling a spell blind this time. I'm watching. I'll hold it if you slip."
I nodded. Too quickly. Too sharply.
Her voice grew firmer.
"There will be pain here. There will be risk. But no stupidity. No impulse. Only step by step."
"Got it."
"Then let's start with the basics…"