Hard Limits

Eric set the tray down with a dull clack. Kaelen and Lyren were already working through their plates.

He was bone-tired, and today he missed coffee like an ache.

Beside him, Welyvyne prodded at a sausage-looking link that wasn’t sausage at all. Eric cut into his. The casing gave a faint squeak; the inside was soft and peppery over the usual bed of smashed roots. If it isn’t meat, what is it—mushroom, algae, mana-grown something? And why make fake meat in a city that never ate it? The thought lodged in his brain and refused to leave.

Eric poked at the link, then turned to the others.

"Weird question, why do you guys have meat alternatives if you never eat meat?"

Kaelen’s fork paused. Lyren glanced at Welyvyne.

Steam curled off the plate, pepper and smoke hanging in the air. Welyvyne rubbed her eyes.

"We used to have many races in one city once."

Lyren’s voice went small, almost apologetic.

"Yes, we modified plants to feel like meat. When humans would eat at our tables, we would feed them familiar foods. Now, it's just become our culture to eat this way."

"So what separated everyone?" Eric asked.

Kaelen’s fork scraped his plate once, then stilled.

"Greed, power, property, you know the usual—we all thought we knew the best way to live and eventually nobody could agree."

He shrugged, eyes on the peppered patty rather than Eric.

"We are all guilty of what happened, except maybe the dwarves, they just locked themselves in their mountain and stayed out of it."

Kaelen pushed his plate away, clearing his throat.

"By the way," Kaelen switched subjects, "the guild would like us to go on patrol around the walls starting tomorrow. We'll be patrolling the north gate from marker to marker."

Kaelen slid two circular items across the table. They were heavier than they looked—etched bronze catching a thin seam of light along the rim.

"The paperwork is done—there're your Adventurers Guild badges; we need to keep them on us. Lyren is already a member, as am I; I've signed us up as a group, and we should figure out what to call our group."

Eric and Welyvyne picked up their medallions. Each one had a small hole near the edge where an anchor could be fixed so it could hang from a belt or neck.

Eric turned his over, studying it. Runes were engraved across the face, and along the rim he noticed a shallow point where he could inject mana into the metal.

Eric sighed. "These are enchanted, and I'm too tired to figure out the purpose. What do they do?"

Kaelen smiled. "You need to add your mana to it, just a small bit. It'll activate its tracking ability, and it can be used to identify you for guild entrance."

Eric and Welyvyne said their goodbyes, dropped their trays where they belonged, and quietly walked down the halls toward spellcasting.

When they got there, Welyvyne leaned against Eric and looked down at the casting arena. Eric, surprised by the sudden touch, tensed.

Most of the class was already there, Professor Orren standing at the bottom in the center of the arena that was the class. Eric looked at the seats and wondered why they even needed them; they always went to the little arena at the bottom.

Welyvyne pushed off of Eric and began down. Eric followed after.

"I was wondering what happened to you two," Professor Orren said. "You are always early, and I was surprised when you weren't. Are you feeling okay?"

"Just had a long night," Eric said. "We were working on a project and lost track of time."

Professor Orren chuckled. "Ah, yes, the sign of devoted students. Please, wait here, Eric. Welyvyne, you may join the class."

Professor Orren walked to each line of students, again teaching them a new spell, and when he finished, leaving the students to practice their new spells, he stepped over to Eric.

"How well are you able to cast draw water and earthen dart?"

Eric winced. He hadn't really practiced them, but before he had left the class last time he felt comfortable with them, so he said as much.

"I feel comfortable casting them, Professor."

Professor Orren nodded. "Good, with water and earth you can learn to weave the two in a healing spell."

Eric snorted. "Ah yeah, I learned minor healing already, professor. I also have a confession to make to you."

Professor Orren raised an eyebrow. "You learned minor healing already—how, why?"

Eric smiled. "The how and why is less important than the fact that I gained another affinity in my core; I now have three primary affinities."

Professor Orren stared at him, his face unreadable. He started to speak, then shut his mouth, then he spoke.

"Eric," he started, brow now furrowing, "are you sure? People are born with their affinity, or in your case affinities. No one can suddenly get another one."

Eric grinned; catching this man off guard was really satisfying.

"Funny that, I wasn't born with an affinity. I obtained mine when I was summoned, which led me to believe that you can in fact gain more. So as I cycled, I looked inward to my core and slowly understood water; it moved closer and closer to my core until it clicked into place. I could teach you how."

Professor Orren just stared at him for a moment. "Have you taught anyone else?"

Eric glanced to Welyvyne, and Professor Orren turned.

"Welyvyne," his voice sharp over the cacophony of the room, "could you join us here, please?"

As Welyvyne walked up, Professor Orren lowered his voice. "Welyvyne, Eric tells me he taught you how to obtain more affinities. Is this true, and have you made progress?"

Welyvyne looked at Eric. "Yes," she said slowly, keeping her eyes on Eric.

Eric nodded to tell her to go on as he crossed his arms.

Welyvyne continued, turning to look at Professor Orren. "Yes, he did, and yes, I've already pulled air closer to my core, after he taught me how to gain the ability to use air first."

Professor Orren slowly swept his gaze over the two of them. "And you can teach me how to move affinities closer to my core. I'd like to learn, and if I can do it myself, well… I honestly don't know what to do with this."

Eric shrugged. "I thought maybe I would teach my professor something useful. What you do with it is up to you. Plus, I still have a lot to learn from you, Professor."

Professor Orren stared at him for a heartbeat too long, then exhaled through his nose.

“You are…” he said slowly, “infuriatingly reasonable, Eric.”

Welyvyne snorted before she could stop herself, then slapped a hand over her mouth.

A corner of Orren’s mouth twitched. The expression didn’t reach his eyes, but it was something. “Very well. For now, this goes no further. You will not speak of this method to anyone else until I’ve had time to verify and consider its implications. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Professor,” Eric said.

Welyvyne nodded quickly. “Of course, Professor. We won’t say anything.”

“After class, I’d like you to teach me this technique of yours,” Orren said. “But until then—you said you already learned healing. How, and who taught you?”

Eric laughed. “I have a feeling that’s going to turn into another very interesting conversation.”

Professor Orren pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t tell me you learned that differently too.”

Eric shook his head. “I learned it by following Lyren around a battlefield while she healed soldiers. I followed her mana with mine, understood how she was healing, and gained minor healing and the skill Healing at the same time.”

Professor Orren narrowed his eyes. “You learned how to heal by watching how she cast and following her mana to feel how it worked? That… well, that’s actually a great idea. Why have I never thought of that?”

Eric smiled. “Yeah, I wasn’t really thinking about that one. I just wanted to see how it worked the only way I knew how.”

Professor Orren chuckled. “Of course it was an accident. Why not.”

Eric shrugged. “I feel like I probably skipped an important lesson doing it that way. For example, I still have no idea how to actually weave affinities to make a new spell effect.”

Professor Orren smiled. “Ah, there it is—the trade-off. The heavens help you, but you haven’t actually earned the spell traditionally. Let’s fix that. Instead, we’ll work on steam jet: casting water, heating it with fire, and then pushing it with air, since you seem so keen on jumping over lessons. This should be a challenge for you.”

Eric winced inwardly. He knew that holding three intentions at once was going to be difficult at best.

The professor walked him through it step by step—how to pull water and fire together without actually merging them into a new spell, but borrowing pieces.

Eric realized quickly it wasn’t really a fusion so much as clipping parts of existing patterns. Take the bit of fire that was just heat, without the flame. Take the bit of air that was just movement, without the shove of a full gust. Then lay them over the normal draw water working.

Orren had him summon water first, exactly as taught, and then “tack on” the stripped-down pieces—heat from fire, flow from air—one after another.

It should have been hard. Instead, it just… clicked. He’d gotten so used to focusing intent that holding water and heat and flow as three separate ideas felt natural.

On his third attempt, a thin jet of superheated steam blasted from the tip of his finger. It lanced across the arena and chewed a smoking groove into the practice dummy’s side.

He heard a soft chime.

New Spell Learned: Steam Jet Rank 1 (Water, Fire, Air)

The room went dead silent. Every student stopped mid-cast.

Eric didn’t notice at first. All he felt was the sudden hollowness where his mana had been. He dropped to one knee as his arms started to ache, muscles trembling from the strain.

“Eric!” Welyvyne slid across the stone to his side, grabbing his shoulder. “Are you okay? You used way too much mana!”

Professor Orren was already hurrying over, robes snapping around his legs as he crossed the arena.

Eric’s vision blurred at the edges. He blinked hard and looked over at Welyvyne.

“What—” his tongue felt thick, “I didn’t know you could use too much mana. I was just… pushing as much as I could.”

Welyvyne’s frown deepened. “Ten percent, Eric. That’s the most we’re supposed to cast from our mana pool at one time. Ten. Most people stay around five so they don’t hurt themselves. And you used enough that we could feel it. I’m sure the nearby classes felt that much mana being dumped all at once.”

Professor Orren’s jaw tightened. “She’s not exaggerating,” he said. “That release would have shown up like a beacon to anyone in the Arcanum.”

He crouched slightly to catch Eric’s eyes. “You do not push as much as you can, Mr. Elwyn. You push as much as you choose—and you stop there.”

Eric swallowed. “I didn’t know there was a limit.”

Orren let out a slow breath. “Of course you didn’t. You’ve only ever cast prepared spells as instructed. Those patterns are designed to sit well under five percent for a typical student. With your capacity, you’ve never even brushed the ceiling.”

He straightened a little, still watching Eric’s face. “But when you build something new and let the weave drink until it feels ‘right’… it will happily drag you past ten percent and keep going. That is what you just did.”

“There is always a limit,” Orren went on. “For most mages, the five-percent guideline keeps them well away from tearing their cores or burning their mana channels. Ten percent is the ceiling—and you went past it. You, unfortunately, have more mana than sense.”

Welyvyne huffed. “That’s the polite way of saying you’re terrifyingly overcharged and completely reckless.”

Orren nodded once. “From now on, you will treat five percent as your normal cast, and ten percent as a hard line you only cross on purpose—and never with a new spell. Half that, if you’re improvising. Do you understand?”

Eric managed a weak nod. “Yeah. Got it. No more ‘all in.’”

“Good.” Orren straightened fully. “You’re done casting for today. Sit. Watch. Learn what controlled expenditure looks like.”

After class ended, Eric and Welyvyne stayed behind. Eric walked Professor Orren through the method step by step, explaining exactly how to gain another affinity.

He told him to focus on the affinity he wanted to acquire—how it moved, how it flowed or stabilized—and to hold that image while he cycled. Just keep doing it, Eric said; eventually he would feel that affinity drawing closer, and casting with it would grow easier and easier.

Welyvyne confirmed it again, describing how close air already felt to her core.

The professor thanked them, and they left.

Eric and Welyvyne made their way to Runes, sat through the familiar scrape of chalk and looping arrays, then headed straight from there to the training grounds to meet the others. Kaelen put Eric on control exercises—tiny, precise casts and abrupt cutoffs—while Lyren and Welyvyne ran through their normal drills. Eric practiced until the buzzing edge of overuse finally dulled and the spells started to obey instead of surge.

Later that night, after the halls had gone quiet and they were settling in at the dorm, a knock sounded at their door.

Eric opened the door to find Seltherin standing there with a box. A portable heating plate and everything needed to make tea sat neatly within.

“Hey, Seltherin,” Eric said, glancing down at the box. “What brings you here?”

Seltherin frowned. “I had not seen you two in a few days and grew concerned. May I come in? I heard that you were at the human settlement and even defended the walls from the monster break.”

Eric smiled. “Yes, please—come in. I’m happy to see you too.”

Seltherin stepped past him and set the box on the desk, his gaze drifting over the scattered watch parts.

“I take it your studies are going well,” he said, nodding toward the half-assembled pieces as he began unpacking the tea set.

Eric nodded. “Yeah.” He gestured at the watch and all the parts. “We’re just working on a project for artificing. Tomorrow we’ll get to test it and see if it works.”

Seltherin smiled warmly. “Good to hear, Eric. You are integrating well into this world. I cannot tell you enough how much I understand how hard it must be for you.”

Eric nodded. “It’s been hard,” he admitted, glancing over at Welyvyne curled up on the couch in her pajamas. “But it isn’t so bad here—with my new friends and family.”

Seltherin’s smile widened. “Excellent. I also wanted to inform you, in case you decided to stop by, that I will be taking some leave to visit my daughter. I should return in two weeks.”

He finished unpacking, set the kettle, and soon poured tea for all three of them.

“Please,” he added dryly as he handed Eric a cup, “try not to get yourself killed in my absence.”

Eric laughed. “I can’t make any promises.”

They drank their tea while Eric and Welyvyne recounted the trip to the human settlement—how the horde had hit, how the walls had held, how close things had come to going bad.

After a while, Seltherin rose, said his good-byes, and let himself out, the door clicking softly behind him.

Eric changed into his pajamas and started toward his bed. Welyvyne yawned and stretched, arms over her head.

“Well, I’m off to bed, Eric. I can’t stay up a heartbeat longer.”

Eric nodded; he couldn’t agree more. “Good night, Welyvyne.”

She shuffled off to her room, and he turned and rolled into his own bed. Tomorrow promised a working watch, and he was somehow both exhausted and excited all at once.