Professor Murphy had the entire class hanging on his every word. There was a natural charisma to him, an effortless command of the room strengthened by his passion and clear, concise explanations.
For Michael, it was mind-boggling. Theories he had painstakingly studied during his years at the Winterborne manor—concepts that had once seemed dense and impenetrable—were suddenly unraveling before him as if someone had opened a locked door. Murphy broke through the walls that had hindered his understanding with casual ease.
In just a single two-hour lesson, Michael felt as though he had learned more than in three years of self-study.
"Thus," Murphy began, turning back to the board, "mana circles—or magic circles, as some prefer to call them—are essentially instructions given to mana, shaping it into substance." His voice carried a rhythmic cadence that made every word stick.
He drew a simple circle upon the board with broad, deliberate strokes of chalk.
