The darkness magic classroom remained eerily silent as Magister Noctis studied me with those light-absorbing eyes. Unlike the warm, scholarly atmosphere of Professor Caelum's study, this space seemed to exist in a realm between reality and void—a fitting environment for the study of darkness magic.
"Very little," I had admitted about my knowledge of darkness magic. "My mother warned me to conceal the affinity if possible."
"A wise precaution," the Magister nodded, the shadows around him shifting like living entities. "Darkness magic suffers from ignorant prejudice. Most associate it with forbidden arts or corruption, when in truth, it is merely another fundamental force—like gravity in the physical realm."
My pulse quickened at his analogy. It was precisely how I'd conceptualized darkness magic in my private studies—as a gravitational force that could bind and manipulate other elements. The parallel to my previous life's understanding of physics was unmistakable.
"You find that comparison meaningful," Magister Noctis observed, catching my reaction. Not a question, but a statement.
"Yes," I replied carefully. "I've theorized that darkness acts as a binding force rather than a destructive one."
A smile ghosted across his face. "Interesting. Most initiates begin with misconceptions about shadows consuming light or darkness representing absence. You've intuitively grasped its true nature." He leaned forward slightly. "Tell me, Arthur Valistein, have you attempted practical applications of this theory?"
I hesitated. My experiments with darkness magic had been limited and secretive, conducted only in the privacy of my family's estate cellar. I'd learned early that visible darkness manipulation drew fearful glances even from our household staff.
"Only in small ways," I answered truthfully. "Stabilizing other elemental constructs primarily."
"As you demonstrated to your Tower companions earlier." Again, not a question. The Magister's awareness of my earlier demonstration was unsettling. "A reasonable starting point."
He raised his hand, and the negative-light orbs around us intensified, deepening the shadows until the room itself seemed to breathe darkness. My skin prickled with goosebumps as the temperature dropped perceptibly.
"Darkness is not evil, Arthur, but it *is* dangerous—as is any powerful force without proper understanding." His voice seemed to emerge from every shadow simultaneously. "Your mother was right to counsel caution, not from shame but from wisdom. The prejudice against darkness practitioners is real and often violent."
The shadows coalesced into his palm, forming a perfect sphere of absolute blackness. "What do you see?" he asked.
I studied the sphere carefully. Unlike normal darkness that merely obscured, this seemed to actively draw in surrounding light. Mathematical equations from my previous life flashed through my mind—theories of black holes and gravitational singularities.
"A focal point," I answered slowly. "A concentration of darkness energy that pulls rather than pushes."
Magister Noctis's eyebrows rose slightly. "Most students see only absence. You see function." He extended his hand, offering the sphere to me. "Take it."
I hesitated only briefly before reaching out. As my fingers touched the sphere, a cold shock ran up my arm, not painful but intensely *present*—like plunging into ice water. The sphere maintained its form but pulsed gently in rhythm with my heartbeat.
"Your affinity is strong," he observed. "Unusually so for one so young, especially with multiple affinities competing for dominance."
The sphere grew warmer in my palm, responding to my internal energy. I carefully applied mathematical principles, analyzing the energy flow patterns. If darkness truly functioned like gravity, then it should follow inverse-square laws for attraction...
Almost instinctively, I adjusted the internal structure of the sphere, creating a layered density gradient that optimized its stability. The sphere's pulsations smoothed into a steady glow of anti-light.
Magister Noctis's eyes widened fractionally. "Remarkable. You've restructured its internal matrix without instruction." He studied me with new intensity. "Where did you learn such control?"
Another dangerous question that probed too close to my reincarnation secret. "I... approach magic mathematically," I replied carefully. "Energy patterns follow consistent rules regardless of element."
"Mathematics..." he mused. "An uncommon approach, particularly for darkness magic, which most practitioners experience intuitively rather than analytically." He gestured for me to return the sphere, which I did reluctantly, having enjoyed the connection to the element.
"Your darkness affinity presents both opportunity and risk, Arthur," Magister Noctis continued. "Politically and personally. Duke Ragna's interest in you likely extends beyond your family's diamond mine to your unique magical configuration."
The mention of the Duke sent an uncomfortable chill through me. "You know about that situation?"
"It would be irresponsible of me not to know the circumstances of my students," he replied evenly. "Particularly when those circumstances involve practitioners of darkness magic—we are few, and therefore must watch out for one another."
He stood in a fluid motion. "For the remainder of today's session, we will establish proper shielding techniques. Darkness practitioners are particularly vulnerable to mental intrusion due to our connection with the void. Before you can safely advance your studies, you must learn to protect your innermost thoughts."
The implication was clear—he suspected there were secrets in my mind worth protecting. Whether he suspected my reincarnation or merely assumed normal childhood traumas, I couldn't tell. Either way, I welcomed the instruction.
For the next hour, Magister Noctis guided me through a series of mental exercises that were reminiscent of meditation techniques from my previous life, but with added dimensions of magical resonance. The process left me mentally exhausted but with a new awareness of my own thought patterns—and the vulnerable pathways where others might intrude.
"Practice these techniques nightly," he instructed as our session concluded. "Your mind must become a fortress, especially given your visibility within the Academy. The letter from your mother suggests urgency."
I startled at the mention of my mother's letter. "You know its contents?"
"No," he replied calmly. "But I recognize the seal of House Valistein, and your reaction upon reading it told me enough. Family tensions often manifest during a student's first weeks at the Academy."
He moved to a cabinet and withdrew a slender book bound in midnight-blue leather. "This text contains fundamental darkness principles I expect you to master before our next session. The content is encrypted—only those with darkness affinity can read it."
I accepted the book, feeling a subtle resonance as it touched my fingers.
"One final matter," Magister Noctis said, his tone becoming more formal. "Tomorrow's combat assessment with Battlemage Tarrow will test more than your magical ability. It will establish your position within the Academy hierarchy. Duke Ragna may have been denied attendance, but his influence remains. Be prepared for unexpected challenges."
"Thank you for the warning, Magister."
"Not a warning—preparation." His eyes held mine. "You possess unusual talents, Arthur Valistein. Your mathematical approach to magic could revolutionize certain theoretical frameworks... if you survive long enough to develop it."
The bluntness of his statement caught me off guard. "Is my situation that precarious?"
"Any darkness practitioner exists in precarity," he replied. "Add your family's vulnerable position, your multiple affinities, and your extraordinary intellect... yes, your path contains significant hazards." He paused. "But also unprecedented potential."
As I turned to leave, he added, "Arthur, regarding Duke Ragna's interest in you—power recognizes power, and seeks to control what it cannot possess. Remember that in your dealings with him."
The messenger construct appeared at the doorway, signaling the end of our session. I bowed respectfully to Magister Noctis and followed the glowing orb back through the winding corridors.
My mind raced as I processed the implications of this lesson. Darkness magic offered powerful applications for my mathematical approach to magic, but also marked me as politically vulnerable. Duke Ragna's machinations against my family were accelerating faster than I'd anticipated, forcing me to advance my own plans.
As I emerged into the main corridor, I nearly collided with Lyra Stormwind, the lightning specialist I'd met earlier.
"Finished with Noctis?" she asked, falling into step beside me. "You look properly drained—mental shielding exercises, I assume?"
I nodded, surprised by her insight.
"He teaches them to all Tower residents eventually," she explained. "Though usually not on the first day. He must see something special in your darkness affinity."
"Or something concerning," I murmured.
Lyra gave me a sidelong glance. "The Tower common room isn't the place for this conversation. Join me in the library after your evening meal? Level Three access opens possibilities worth exploring."
Her tone suggested more than casual academic interest. Was this an overture of friendship, or something more calculated?
In my previous life as William, I'd been notoriously poor at reading social cues. As Arthur, I couldn't afford such naivety—not with my family's future potentially hanging on my Academy connections.
"I'd appreciate that," I replied carefully. "There's much about the Academy structure I still need to understand."
"Indeed." Her violet eyes held mine momentarily. "Knowledge is power, Arthur Valistein. And in this place, you'll need every advantage you can acquire."
The messenger construct pulsed insistently, reminding me of my next scheduled session.
As I followed it toward the mathematical theory classroom, I fingered the blue stone in my pocket—Sylphi's parting gift. My sister's innocent face flashed in my mind, followed by the worrying contents of my mother's letter.
"Knowledge is power," I whispered to myself, echoing Lyra's words but giving them new meaning. In my past life as William, I had pursued knowledge for its own sake, for the pure joy of understanding the universe's fundamental principles. Now, as Arthur, that knowledge had become something else—a weapon, a shield, and perhaps the only chance to protect those I loved.
Tomorrow's combat assessment loomed in my thoughts. It would be my first public demonstration of abilities before the Academy elite. If I performed too well, I'd draw unwanted attention. Too poorly, and I'd lose respect among the Tower residents.
My thumb traced the smooth surface of Sylphi's stone as I made a silent promise to my sister. Somehow, I would navigate this treacherous path. I would master both magic and politics. And eventually, I would ensure our family never again had to fear Duke Ragna's predatory interest.
With renewed determination, I straightened my posture and quickened my pace. Mathematical theory awaited—and with it, perhaps, the foundations of power that could one day reshape this world.