After a long day of Warden drills, Battle Magic theory, and the intricate demands of Alchemy, the students gathered for a hasty dinner, conversations subdued beneath the weight of fatigue and anticipation. Their final stop for the day loomed: the Forge Master Lab.
The corridor leading to the lab shimmered with residual heat. Emberlight flickered along the walls, drawn from the molten heart of the school's subterranean furnace. The lab doors opened without sound, revealing a room shaped like a hexagon, the walls forged from heat-treated stone veined with mana channels.
At the front of the room stood Professor Marth, tall and iron-voiced, wearing a leather apron scorched in multiple places. Around him were four silver tables, each flanked by a familiar figure—Professors Hightower, Mefaal, Manohar, and Weasley.
Alex stopped just inside the doorway, frowning.
"Why are the other professors here?" he muttered, low enough for only the others to hear.
Professor Marth answered before anyone else could.
"Today, each of you will forge and enchant a short sword with a basic fire enchantment. If you've kept up with your reading, you already understand the foundational steps. The other professors are here to guide, ensure containment, and assist in filling your enchantment circles."
A tension settled over the room—equal parts nerves and excitement. Victoria's gaze swept across the four tables, and the students instinctively drifted toward their chosen mentors.
Victoria joined Professor Hightower, who gave her a brief, respectful nod.
Alex went to Professor Mefaal, who was already inspecting the metalwork like a jeweler.
Stella stood beside Professor Manohar, calmly adjusting her gloves.
The unnamed woman, quiet and focused, walked to Professor Weasley, whose usual humor was replaced by an unusual stillness.
The short swords laid before them were elegant and precise in construction.
Each blade was broad, slightly curved, and bore a white reflective surface that shimmered faintly under the lab's enchanted lights. Along the blade's face, a subtle hexagonal etching could be seen—designed not for ornamentation but for mana resonance. A sharp, angular tip made each weapon feel more tool than ornament. A bold black triangle stretched from the guard toward the center, terminating in a circular motif that pulsed faintly with dormant potential. The hilt transitioned seamlessly from metallic orange to a black, textured grip—crafted with both control and combat in mind.
Alex, Stella, and the unknown woman began by following standard procedure.
With careful movements, each of them used water magic to suspend shimmering droplets in the air, guiding them into shape—two concentric circles, the inner at twelve inches, the outer at fourteen. Between the rings, fifteen runes hovered in alignment, while another fifteen floated outside the outer circle.
The room filled with quiet correction.
"No—that's the Ignition rune, not Stabilization," Professor Mefaal noted to Alex, redirecting his hand.
"Realign your resonance spacing," Manohar added to Stella. "You're bleeding power into the outer ring."
With some frustration—and under the professors' watchful eyes—they corrected their glyphs. Once satisfied, the instructors handed each of them a vial of magical ink, glowing with a faint, warm light.
The students lowered the ink onto the silver tables. A hiss, then a crackling pop echoed out as the ink incinerated a thin layer of the table's alchemically-treated surface, anchoring the circle. When the sizzling faded, each sword was placed at the center of its respective formation.
As the professors stepped forward to begin filling the circles with mana, the students began casting their enchantments, focusing energy into the frameworks they had prepared.
But Victoria moved differently.
She did not reach for ink. She did not draw a circle.
Instead, she lifted one hand, palm open, fingers steady—and summoned a perfect magic circle made of pure light into the air. It shimmered gold-white, every rune carved with radiant precision, hovering silently in the air over the sword.
Hightower froze mid-step, brow furrowed. "That's not…" she began, but the words trailed off as Victoria conjured a second light-formed spell, this one a spiral of runes wrapping directly around the blade—from pommel to tip.
Runes etched in sacrificial light, designed not just to contain—but to embed.
Victoria turned to her professor and said, quietly but with calm authority:
"Begin filling the circle."
Still watching her warily, Hightower complied.
The magic began to flow.
For a moment, the runes shimmered, pulsing in harmony—until the embedded spiral began to resist. The enchantment faltered, struggling to take root. The outer circle filled properly, but when the magic reached the blade, it recoiled.
The runes refused to collapse.
Victoria frowned, expression tightening. Her fingers moved again, light magic swirling, rearranging. She rotated glyphs, collapsed sub-sequences, and rewrote segments of the spell's matrix mid-flow.
The others finished within minutes—clean enchantments, successful casts, glowing swords.
They stepped back from their tables, blades in hand. But all eyes shifted toward Victoria.
She remained at her station, utterly focused, her spiral of runes still adjusting, evolving—not failing, but adapting.
"She's recalibrating the entire structure…" muttered Professor Mefaal, a note of something like admiration in his voice.
Another minute passed. Then two.
Victoria's spiral glowed brighter. The runes clicked inward, converging—not chaotically, but in a cascade of calculated collapse, until the enchantment locked into the blade with a sharp metallic resonance, like a blade sliding into stone.
Light flared, then vanished.
Silence.
The professors stood motionless, expressions caught between shock and realization.
As Professor Marth dismissed the class, murmurs trailed behind each student. Victoria gathered her materials in silence, but before she could step away, Professor Hightower placed a firm hand on her shoulder.
"Stay for a moment."
The others filed out. Victoria stood calmly as Hightower turned to face her fully.
"Did your father teach you that method?" she asked, voice low but intense.
"No," Victoria replied. "I decided on it in the moment. I didn't realize the spiral binding would amplify the enchantment—it added resistance. Took me longer to rearrange the matrix to bypass it."
Hightower's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Wait. Spell matrix theory isn't taught until fifth year. How do you know about structural rearrangement?"
Victoria tilted her head.
"Have you ever wondered why I don't use hand signs or magic words like the other students?"
She held up a hand, conjuring a small rune of pure light that hovered above her palm.
"I use Light Mastery to conjure the necessary runes directly. I don't cast spells in the traditional sense. I create the elemental structure and use the light rune as a sacrificial anchor to generate others."
Hightower said nothing for a long moment. Then:
"After the mock exams end, you and I are going to have a very long conversation about this."
Victoria gave the faintest nod, then turned and left, the glow of the forged blade still fading in her hand.