The moon hung high, casting a cold silver glow over the courtyard. Torches flickered along the outer walls, their flames barely reaching the center where Ramiro and Luzia stood. The night was still, save for the occasional rustle of wind through the trees.
Ramiro cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, Luzia, listen carefully. What we're about to do isn't magic in the traditional sense. You're not weaving spells—you're forcing your mana to take a different path. Instead of pooling in your heart like a normal mage, you're going to channel it straight into your limbs."
Luzia nodded, though a crease formed between her brows. "And how exactly do I do that?"
Ramiro smirked. "First, we figure out where your mana wants to go. Close your eyes."
She hesitated, then obeyed. With her vision gone, the night air felt sharper, her senses keener.
"Now," Ramiro continued, his voice steady, "don't try to control it. Just feel."
