The Pursuit Of Catalyst: A Dive Into Another Verse

Lecture Hall – Third Morning, Second Month at the Imperial Asphalia Academy

As the last whispers in the lecture hall began to fade, the door at the far end creaked open, revealing a tall woman with an aura of radiant poise. Her flowing ivory robes shimmered faintly under the light filtering through the stained glass windows, and her blonde hair was neatly tied in a low chignon. With a single glance, she commanded the attention of every student in the room.

Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she made her way to the front of the class, and once there, she turned with grace and addressed the students in a mellifluous voice, marked by a soft, unmistakable French accent.

"Good morning, mes élèves. I am Professor Giselle Montclair, and I will be your instructor in the study of Light Magic, one of the most elusive and spiritually aligned disciplines in this world."

Her gaze swept over the rows of students, pausing ever so slightly on Sylves, then Ashia and Serena.

"Light is not simply an element. It is life. It is truth. It is justice. But above all," she paused, her voice tightening just enough to stir the air with gravitas, "it is fragile. And as such, it must be wielded with clarity of purpose and the purity of one's intent."

She gestured with a flick of her slender fingers, and a gentle orb of light formed above her palm. The students leaned forward, watching as it floated to the ceiling like a rising sun.

"Unlike fire, which burns, or wind, which flows freely… Light feels, your intents. It responds not to brute force, but to the heart of the caster."

She let the orb fade into a cascade of glittering motes.

"I expect each of you to respect this element—especially those of you who possess affinity for it. And those who do not…" her lips curved into a knowing smile, "you will still learn to understand it. For understanding is the first step toward wisdom."

She turned toward the chalkboard and began to write a few elegant sigils.

"Now, let us begin. Today, we will study the nature of Light Essence and its relationship with the spiritual plane. Open your tomes to chapter three."

Sylves leaned forward in his seat, intrigued. Ashia glanced at him, unsure, while Serena fumbled through her book. A glimmer of determination sparked in her eyes.

The lesson had begun.

Imperial Asphalia Academy – Lecture Hall, Light Magic Class

Professor Giselle Montclair stood before the class, the morning sun casting dappled light across her robes through the high, stained-glass windows. With a composed smile and a soft accent lacing her words, she began her lecture.

"Light Magic, mes enfants, is not merely the manipulation of brightness or illumination. It is the very essence of clarity, truth, and revelation. Among the known elements, it is the rarest and perhaps the most misunderstood."

She raised a hand and formed a small sphere of pure light between her fingers. The orb pulsed rhythmically, as if in tune with her own heartbeat.

"This," she said, "is not summoned by will alone. Light responds to resolve, to faith—faith in one's path, and in one's own sense of right."

A hand went up. It was Serena.

"Professor Montclair… is it true that only a few individuals each generation are born with the affinity for Light Magic?"

Professor Montclair nodded gently. "Oui, Serena. Very few. Affinity with Light is rare, and even among those who possess it, control is… delicate. It is an element born of internal balance. And sadly, many hearts are too heavy, or too clouded."

Another hand followed—Prince Elas.

"Can Light Magic be used offensively, or is it only a defensive or healing force?"

"Ah, mon prince, that is an excellent question. Light Magic can absolutely be weaponized. Blinding flashes, searing rays, or even lances of divine light have been recorded in duels and wars. But beware—its offensive nature can only be summoned by those whose will is not tainted by hate. If you cast from anger, it fades."

A stir moved through the classroom.

Then, Sylves raised his hand.

"Professor... Can Light Magic suppress or reveal dark energies—such as that of a Catalyst of Despair?"

The room fell still.

Professor Montclair turned to Sylves with a sharp, almost perceptive gaze, her voice soft but weighty. "Yes… and no. Light can expose darkness—it reveals illusions, dispels minor curses, and can even restrain corrupted souls temporarily. But a true Catalyst of Despair… they are more than shadow. They are chaos. Light alone would flicker in their presence."

Ashia listened quietly, though she fidgeted slightly in her seat. Beside her, Serena glanced down at her hands—perhaps thinking about her own tenuous connection to the element.

Another student—a boy with pale gray hair named Julian Walter—raised his hand.

"Professor, if Light requires such emotional purity… what happens if the caster themselves begins to lose their sense of self?"

Professor Montclair looked thoughtful. "Then the light dims, Julian. The caster will find their spells flickering, unstable. In the worst cases… their Light affinity may fade entirely. You cannot hold light in hands that tremble with doubt."

She turned and wrote three words on the board in elegant, curling script:

Clarity. Conviction. Control.

"These," she said, tapping the board, "are your foundations. Study them. Practice them. If you are to ever use Light Magic beyond casting small flares in a dark room, you must understand your own heart first."

The students murmured among themselves. Some looked contemplative. Others awed.

The lecture continued, with Professor Montclair guiding them through a basic Light Essence circulation technique. While only a few managed to produce a faint glow, Sylves's palm radiated with a soft gleam, surprising even the professor.

She walked past him slowly and paused. "You possess more than affinity, Mr. Ellesmere," she said quietly. "You possess purpose."

Then, with a smile toward the class: "Très bien. That concludes today's lesson. Tomorrow, we attempt channeling through an object. Come prepared—with your minds clear and your intentions steady."

As the students stood and began gathering their things, whispers filled the room.

"She's amazing…"

"Did you see Sylves's magic?"

"Light Magic is way harder than I thought…"

Ashia held her book close and followed Sylves quietly. Serena looked more determined than ever.

Outside, the sun continued to rise—its light, perhaps, just a bit more meaningful now.

Northern Grounds – Imperial Asphalia Academy

Evening sunlight bathed the grounds in golden warmth as the first-year students assembled, their uniforms fluttering slightly in the evening breeze.

Dozens of young mages-in-training stood in anticipation, faces a mixture of excitement and anxiety. At the front stood a towering mana crystal—a translucent Manalith nearly twice the height of an average man, glowing faintly in rhythmic pulses.

Professor Magreth, Professor Alya Stephan, and Headmaster Gardinant Blackwood walked solemnly among the students, each holding a quill enchanted with auto-inscription magic and a bound parchment register enchanted to produce a certified duplicate for each student.

"Line up in alphabetical order," Professor Magreth announced. "One by one, place both palms on the crystal and let your mana flow naturally."

Student after student stepped forward, and the Manalith responded—rays of colored light flaring through its facets and reflecting the elemental affinities of the child.

The process continued for some time. Crystalline flares of blue (Water), red (Fire), green (Wind), brown (Earth), and the occasional white shimmer (Light) danced across the crystal's surface.

Then it was Sylves Ellesmere's turn.

As Sylves placed his hands on the crystal, the Manalith shook, its glow pulsating violently. Every color known to magical affinity flared inside the crystal—fire, water, wind, earth, light, void—and then two additional rays: one deep violet and the other ethereal silver.

Professor Magreth whispered, "As expected… He holds all."

The Headmaster gave a subtle nod. "A Sovereign's mark."

Sylves stepped back, and the copy of his certification paper materialized with glowing ink, listing:

Elemental Affinities: Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Light, Void, Elemental, Spatial, and Creation.

Next came Elas Asphalia, whose affinity flared with a strong brightness—Fire, Wind, Water, and Light. A noble and balanced combination fitting for royalty.

Serena Lawrance followed, and the crystal shone with twin streaks—Water and Light. She seemed quietly pleased, her soft features glowing in pride.

Then it was Ashia's turn.

As she placed her small palms on the crystal, a strange pause fell. The Manalith pulsed with a hue unlike any that came before—not a singular color, but an iridescent prism-shift that shimmered and swirled.

Alya's eyes widened. "That's... not any of the basic elements."

Headmaster Blackwood stepped closer. "No… That is Elemental Magic itself."

He turned to the gathered students, who now watched in hushed awe.

"Students," the Headmaster began, his baritone voice carrying across the courtyard, "what you have witnessed is exceedingly rare. Elemental Magic is not the control of one element, but the primordial force from which the core four—fire, water, wind, and earth—emerged. It is a raw, unrefined essence… and those who wield it can potentially manipulate nature at its very root."

He gestured toward Ashia. "This young maid-turned-student holds within her a magic that rivals even Light and Void in scale. While it does not carry the inherent purity of Light or the mystery of Void, it stands at the axis of balance. With proper training, it can be used to mimic, overwhelm, or destabilize other elemental magic."

Gasps filled the air.

"However," Professor Alya added, stepping forward with her elegant poise, "Elemental Magic is unstable at early stages. Only someone with emotional clarity and a disciplined mind can control it. Otherwise… it consumes the wielder."

Sylves glanced toward Ashia. Her expression remained stoic, but her eyes widened—not with determination, but fear and anxiety.

The students received their appraisal certificates, some with pride, others with disappointment. But no one could deny that the evening had revealed more than mere elemental affinities—it had unearthed legends in the making.

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon and magical lanterns were lit across the grounds, a hush fell over the first-years.

The world of magic was larger, deeper, and far more dangerous than they had ever imagined.

And for some… it had only just begun.

Dormitory Room 104 — Evening

The glow of twilight had long faded, and silence blanketed the corridors of the first-year dormitory. In room 104, the air hung heavy with unspoken tension. The events of the elemental appraisal lingered in their minds — especially Ashia's.

Ashia sat quietly on the edge of the bed, her small hands trembling, knotted in the fabric of her skirt. Her shoulders quivered beneath the dim lamplight as she stared down at the floor. She had tried to appear composed as they walked back, but now the weight of it all pressed down — the crystal's overwhelming response, the astonished whispers of the other students, and the headmaster's explanation of the rare, volatile magic she unknowingly possessed.

"I… I never asked for any of this…" she whispered to herself, voice cracking.

Without a word, Sylves walked over and knelt before her. He reached up and gently wrapped his arms around her trembling form. The embrace wasn't firm — it was steady, warm, reassuring.

"Don't be afraid, Ashia," Sylves murmured close to her ear. "Don't fear what you carry. I won't let it consume you… not as long as I'm here. You remember what I told you, right? You're safer with me."

Ashia's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and the tension that had been coiled tight inside her began to unwind. Her lips trembled before the dam broke — and the tears spilled freely.

"I… I'm just a maid," she sobbed softly, burying her face in his shoulder. "How did someone like me end up involved in something so… so grand, so dangerous? This was never meant to be my world…"

Sylves pulled her a little closer, resting his chin atop her head. "Maybe it wasn't meant to be," he said quietly, "but you're part of it now. You're not just my maid, Ashia… you're my companion. I chose you. And I'll keep you by my side… until the day you can stand tall on your own — and even after that, if you'll let me."

Ashia's sobs faded into shallow, hiccuping breaths. Her hands clutched the fabric of his shirt, not in desperation, but in trust.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything more.

And for the first time since the appraisal, Ashia felt a little less afraid of the power sleeping within her.

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