Saffra had traced this arrangement of runes so many times that she was sick of it. She could go the rest of her life without sketching that sequence, mentally or physically, a single instance more.

And never mind trying to manifest that design into reality. [Scorchlance] was complicated even on a basic level. She would struggle to paint it with ink on paper. Doing so with the unwieldy, chaotic force that was mana was an exercise to induce madness.

But she’d been practicing relentlessly these past few days. Even more so than usual. Part of the reason she’d performed better than average at the Institute was because she liked training. Not for the act itself, necessarily. As much as the end result inspired awe—pulling forth great gouts of flame from nothingness—magic could be frustrating enough to make her want to rip her hair out. But because training occupied her mind. She didn’t like sitting alone with her thoughts most days, so that frustration was, in a way, a salve. One she applied often.

Especially these past few days. Being back in Meridian had dredged up all sorts of unpleasant memories. She’d thought she’d gotten over what had happened at the Institute, and Isabella. But no. Never mind that she hadn’t stepped foot anywhere near the Institute; simply being in the city had brought back that bone-deep dread from those first few days after her expulsion. Of all the places in the world, why had Lady Vivi’s business taken her here?

With the sort of razor focus granted only from the agony of a thousand failed attempts, she painted the eleventh rune…the twelfth…the twentieth…until the last glowing arcane symbol of [Scorchlance] formed ahead of her, and a shoddy—but stable—imitation of Lady Vivi’s spell shone in the air.

And didn’t destabilize?

She froze, wand pointed at the spellcircle.

She’d gotten it? Just like that?

But that was how most first incantations came about. Getting closer and closer, until, eventually, an attempt crawled over that invisible line that determined ‘good enough,’ and the spell finally obeyed.

Jolting out of her shock, she incanted—before the spell fizzled away—“[Scorchlance].”

A small sun ignited in the center of the spellcircle, then hurled forward, hues of red and orange swirling and expanding into the shape of a spear. Launched with the speed of an arrow, when [Scorchlance] met the gold-rank training dummy, it burrowed into the blocky wooden torso and tore through reinforced wood to detonate. A gigantic fireball engulfed the dummy, Saffra’s shield flaring in response even twenty feet away.

She stared, wide-eyed, at the resulting carnage. The training dummy’s chest had all but blown apart. Would its self-repair enchantments even work, after that? But yes—with relief, she saw that the magical dummy was repairing, if slowly, and the flames quenching, so she hadn’t ruined the expensive practice equipment.

That had been a gold-rank dummy. Rated for level 450. A single [Scorchlance] had nearly blown it apart? She’d expected the spell to be strong, but that strong?

A smile slowly spread across her face.

“Ha!” She jabbed her wand in the dummy’s direction. “Only took two million tries! It wasn’t even hard! Coulda done it in my sleep!”

“Well done,” a familiar voice intoned.

Saffra didn’t scream, because that would be way too embarrassing of a reaction. Definitely, she didn’t jump two feet in the air and spin to face the intruder while backpedaling in a panic, wand raised defensively.

It was, of course, Lady Vivi. She had raised both hands, an obvious sign of apology, even if her smooth face and bored red eyes didn’t mirror the gesture.

“I didn’t mean to startle.”

“You didn’t startle me!” Her slamming heart begged to differ, but who cared what it had to say? “Who sneaks up on people like that! What’s wrong with you?!”

It was insane for someone as unbelievably lucky as her to speak so disrespectfully to her master, but Saffra had never been able to control her mouth when her emotions ran hot.

“I didn’t want to break your concentration,” Lady Vivi responded evenly. “It was shaping up as a promising attempt.” She nodded at the already mostly repaired dummy. “And you got it. That was your first success, I take it?”

At the praise, she swallowed and looked away. “It’s about time,” she muttered. “Only took me three times as long as it should’ve.”

A short pause. “It’s supposed to be difficult. I think you picked it up quickly.”

Saffra scoffed. “I bet you were casting spells like that when you could barely walk.”

The retort wasn’t fair. She knew her mentor was just trying to be encouraging, and Saffra barely deserved that. So why was she being difficult?

“These things come at different paces for everyone,” Lady Vivi said after a moment of silence.

“I guess,” Saffra mumbled, at least not digging her heels in about it. But as much as she knew she was being annoying, she also knew she was right. Someone who had reached level nineteen hundred…who was probably draconic royalty…had surely never struggled with magic as basic as tier four.

A week ago, she’d hardly have considered tier four as supreme magic worthy of an archmage, but she’d at least have taken pride in adding another to her arsenal. Her view on magic had been seriously warped these past several days. Watching someone erase a Titled-rank monster with a single spell…how couldn’t she see the world differently after that?

“Besides, the only reason I learned it as fast as I did was because you held my hand through the whole process.”

“That’s how teaching is supposed to work.”

Which was an annoyingly fair response. “I guess.”

After another short pause, Vivi said, “You had breakfast? I came down and couldn’t find you. I had to ask Tilly where you went.”

“I ate.” Not much, but she had nibbled at the corner of some toast Missus Tilly had offered. So she wasn’t lying. “Didn’t sleep great,” she added in explanation, since that was the implicit question.

Vivi didn’t ask why she hadn’t slept well, or try to pry at all, which was something Saffra really appreciated. Honestly, this whole apprenticeship would’ve been a dream if not for how she’d ended up in Meridian. Saffra had enjoyed seeing Missus Tilly again, and Will and Rose might finish whatever mission they were out on in time for her to see them too, but other than that, being in this city made her…anxious. She couldn’t shake the feeling Fate was out to screw her one more time. That she would, somehow, be thrown into the warpath of a Caldimore or one of their cronies. If not the Duke himself. Or the High King. Why not? That was her luck. It was why she’d been sticking to the inn and refusing to go out. She’d learned her lesson; if she provided the slightest opening, Fate would take it.

She pushed the malaise away. “Any plans today?”

“I handled most of what I needed to. I still have a few things to deal with, but I’m waiting for certain arrangements to be made. So I’m free.”

Saffra didn’t ask what had been occupying her time. If a person spoke in generalities like that, it was because they didn’t want to be specific. It annoyed her how many people couldn’t pick up on that.

“Since you were getting close with [Scorchlance] during last night’s lessons,” Vivi continued, “I was going to help with your first invocation this morning, then take you hunting. But it seems you’ve managed the first part yourself.” She nodded toward the now fully repaired dummy. “Again, well done. [Scorchlance] will be a significant upgrade over your previous standard attack spell.”

Saffra snorted. “That’s putting it lightly.” Her amazement over the spell’s efficacy had been cut short thanks to Vivi’s intrusion, but Vivi was right. Saffra had been working tirelessly to get [Scorchlance] to manifest, and the result had been every ounce what she’d hoped for. Even a low-gold training dummy hadn’t stood a chance against the spell, blowing nearly to pieces with one cast. That was insane.

A warm feeling filled her. Not too shabby. Magic had always been something she’d taken pride in. There was something deeply comforting in having concrete goals to work toward—seeing her level go up, adding a spell to her grimoire, reaching a new tier of magic. Simple and uncomplicated, unlike so many other things. And a few days, even if she only had her teacher to thank for it, was a solid pace for a fourth-tier spell when she hadn’t even hit level four hundred, the normal benchmark for mages to start picking those up.

It would’ve taken Isabella half the time, a voice in her head sourly reminded her.

The good mood faded.

“Hunting where?” Saffra asked, and even she heard how her voice had turned dull. She scolded herself. This, at least, she needed to keep a better hold on. She was already on thin ice. Being any more of the massive headache than she’d already been would shorten this tenuous apprenticeship.

Like usual, those red eyes watched her passively, and Saffra knew Vivi had read the shift in mood. Lady Vivi might be clumsy sometimes—or more likely, she didn’t care to be tactful, because what need did a level nineteen hundred have for tact?—but she wasn’t clueless. With how obvious Saffra was being, anyone could’ve identified the mood swing. Knowing that only further soured her attitude.

“I have a hunting ground in mind. Somewhere [Scorchlance] will be particularly effective. While the fundamentals are important, levels are nothing to ignore.”

That was a given. There were things a mage simply couldn’t do at a given level. The same way a swordsman of a certain level could only move so fast or strike with so much force, a mage’s mana pool—and their control of their mana—were gated by their stats to some degree. The best of the best, the prodigies, could do more with less, but even a Sword Saint’s disciple would never win against someone four hundred levels his superior.

At the mention of levels, her mind of course went to that earth-shattering revelation from last morning. Her mentor’s level.

Saffra’s heart started to beat faster. “Um. I should probably tell you something,” she said, feeling immensely awkward—and a bit scared, to be honest. She should’ve brought this up the same day it had happened, that same morning, but she hadn’t. She’d been too overwhelmed. Was still overwhelmed. She had done her best not to think about who her mentor was, because it broke her brain every time she did. She took a breath and finished: “The apprenticeship went through.”

“That’s a good thing, yes?”

The wind went out of Saffra’s sails. Because she could tell that Vivi didn’t know what she meant. “Y-yes, that’s good. For me. But also…?”

Didn’t she know what Saffra was getting at?

The realization hit her like a lightning bolt. Lady Vivi didn’t realize that the apprenticeship status had given her a rough idea of her level. Possibly because of her memory problems. That she’d made clear to Saffra. And was relying on her to patch over where necessary. The only reason Saffra had been offered an apprenticeship in the first place.

So not only had Saffra failed her in that regard…was Lady Vivi’s level supposed to be a secret? Would she be upset Saffra had learned it? And in turn, what her identity must be? Because only an ancient immortal could reach that pinnacle of power. That narrowed down who—and what—Lady Vivi could be rather massively.

She swallowed and finished speaking. Her mentor deserved honesty. She already felt guilty for not being forthright about her situation with the Caldimores.

“But also, that means I know what your level is. Roughly.”

Lady Vivi paused. “You do?”

“I didn’t try to hide it,” Saffra said, panicking. “Or trick you.” Lady Vivi wasn’t an easy person to read, but Saffra knew how to surmise the obvious. “I didn’t know that you wouldn’t know. But maybe I should’ve assumed. S-sorry.”

Lady Vivi studied her. Saffra really wished the woman’s face wasn’t always so inexpressive. Anxiously, she waited for her response.

“I suppose I should have guessed,” the woman sighed. “How else would it work? Hm. What did it tell you? How specific was it?”

“…that you’re fifteen hundred levels higher than me,” Saffra mumbled. “I didn’t even know the apprenticeship bonus went up to twelve. I kind of assumed it stopped at a thousand levels—tier ten. That was the highest I’ve heard about.” Since that was what archmage apprenticeships sometimes were, and students talked.

Obviously, she didn’t know how apprenticeships of an even higher tier worked. She doubted most noble families did either. Hiring a sufficiently skilled adventurer, even orichalcum rank, with coin wasn’t unheard of, but Titled? Titled were rare enough, and capable enough, that coin—unless it was a truly, truly ludicrous amount—couldn’t buy their loyalty. They chose their apprentices for reasons specific to them. A Titled had no need to be a sellsword. Much less the stronger Titled, the ones capable of giving a 1250-level-difference apprenticeship or higher.

“Fifteen hundred?” Vivi asked, a small frown on her lips.

“I won’t tell anyone, of course!” Saffra hurried to assure her. “I know it’s a big deal for you to be here. You can trust me.”

Vivi stared at her.

“Your homeland has really strict rules,” Saffra explained. “Even I know that. I won’t bring it up again. I just wanted to tell you I know.”

Though would a dragon princess have special privileges? Or the opposite? Maybe it would be more of a scandal for someone of her status to break her kind’s enforced isolation. Maybe her being in the mortal lands would draw the wrath of the Dragon King himself. She could see it going either way. Obviously, she had no idea what dragon culture was like.

Saffra wasn’t sure why Lady Vivi kept staring at her. She shifted uncomfortably.

Vivi bonked her on the head with her staff.

“W-what?” Saffra asked, startled, rubbing the spot. What had prompted that?

Instead of answering, her mentor sighed. “Stop making ridiculous assumptions about me.”

After a moment of confusion, Saffra understood, and nodded rapidly. Of course. It was only natural that Lady Vivi wanted this topic dropped, and would pretend Saffra had gotten something wrong. It was a massive deal for a dragon to be outside of the Sky-Pillar Range. Maybe even bringing it up had been a bad idea. Someone might have been listening, for all she knew—though she doubted Lady Vivi would be caught unaware like that.

Lady Vivi eyed her a moment longer, then sighed. “You’re misinterpreting things. But maybe that’s for the best. I’ll explain in a few weeks, once we’ve known each other longer.”

Saffra’s brow furrowed in confusion. The words didn’t fit with her understanding of the situation. Lady Vivi was moving on before she could puzzle over it.

“Come on, then. Let’s go hunting.” She held out a hand. “It shouldn’t take long to reach our destination. It’s not far from Prismarche.”