“You seem kinda wound up.”
“Do I really? I cannot think what the cause might be...” Lecia cocked her head to one side and then the other.
Perhaps her personality was developing. While she still had her gentle air, she seemed more confident in expressing what was and wasn’t acceptable to her, which may have led to this lack of patience toward perceived time wasters. It would go a long way to explain how often she said she was “disappointed” lately.
Whatever it was that had spurred this change in her, that was where their conversation ended, and Arcus headed for his classroom. Contrary to his expectations, there had been no entrance ceremony, or anything of that sort. It would have been the perfect opportunity for the headmaster and teachers to emphasize the newcomers’ identity as students. Nevertheless, its omission seemed to highlight the Institute’s focus on practicalities over formalities. Personally, Arcus found the lack of stiff speeches something of a relief.
Once the new students had arrived, they were gathered in place and split up into classes. The Institute gave lectures rather than lessons, so these groups weren’t like traditional classes. They were used when the entire school was hosting a lecture, or when the students were gathered to receive their schedules and the like. They seemed to be grouped based on their exam results, as Arcus ended up in the same class as Lecia and Kane.
After that, they were shown around the Institute. Its complicated structure meant there was a need to familiarize oneself with its interior as soon as possible. They were patrolled from end to end, and the tour took up the entire day.
The next day, Arcus’s class was summoned to the training grounds. Their teacher was a tall, slender man close to his thirties. He wore glasses and the lecturers’ uniform. Appearancewise, he reminded Arcus of Cazzy. His eyes had the same sharpness to them, and he seemed very proud.
The teacher looked them over. “Today, we will be measuring your aether.”
Ah, yes. The public execution.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Arcus, but he still felt slightly sick. While it shouldn’t necessarily matter how much aether the students had, the aethometer was not yet accessible to everyone, and so this gave them a chance to find out. Being aware of one’s exact aether level was useful knowledge that made it easier to apportion one’s power appropriately.
After gathering the class in one corner of the grounds, the teacher produced an aethometer. It was larger than the standard model, as its purpose was to measure an individual’s aether, rather than that of a single spell. The gradations were also set farther apart, making it unsuited to precise measurements.
The latest aethometers to be produced were already third-generation models. These smaller models had been distributed to the military and medical sectors, while the Institute received older versions that were bulkier and more breakable.
Naturally, there were many students who had never laid eyes on an aethometer before, though from the sounds of it, some of them had an inkling as to what it was. The teacher cleared his throat to quiet them down. He waited until he had their full attention before explaining.
“As some of you may be aware, this is a device, recently unveiled and implemented at the Institute, that can measure one’s aether.” He held out the aethometer to give them a good view.
He went on to summarize what it was capable of. The details of its mechanism, of course, were on a need-to-know basis, and so his explanation barely touched on that. The most he could divulge was that the red liquid in the glass tube reacted to aether.
“...mana being the units in which aether is measured!” The more he spoke, the more elated the teacher seemed, almost as if he were proud of the thing. It felt very strange to Arcus to have somebody lecture him on the very tool and theories he had developed himself. “In the past, aether would be measured by how brightly one could make a jewel shine, or how long one could spread ripples across a water’s surface. With this, however, one can measure aether with endless ease and accuracy. It should be obvious by now that this is a truly wonderful invention indeed! Its creator has shown an astounding level of ingenuity!” The teacher’s face sparkled as he raved.
Likewise, the students were endlessly curious about the device. It wasn’t all that long ago that aetheric management came down solely to intuition. To go from that to having precise units was doubtlessly a reason for great excitement.
“Now, when you do your measurements, it is important that you release every ounce of aether in your body. Do bear in mind that you will feel physically depleted and will be unable to cast any spells for a time. You will need to report your measurement, but a rough figure is acceptable. Round it up or down as appropriate.” The teacher pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. “First up: Kane Lazrael!”
“Sir!” Kane stepped forward.
“That’s him! Kane Lazrael...”
“I’ve never seen him in the flesh!”
Clearly, his name preceded him—at least when it came to a handful of the noble students. And, unlike Arcus’s, his reputation was positive.
Kane’s stride was full of confidence. His eyes, the same color as his hair, were alight with a fiery ambition that never seemed to go out. Taking the aethometer from the teacher, he let his body overflow with aether. As he released it, waves emanated from his body. Winds whipped up around him, pulling up and into them sand from the ground. It was already clear he had a lot of aether. He was like a container constantly spilling out its excess water.
His fellow students were impressed.
“Amazing...”
“I didn’t know it was possible to have so much...”
“That’s why they call him a Lionheart...”
The other students weren’t able to see the exact measurements on the aethometer, but it was obvious that the liquid would be rising by a fair amount. It wasn’t long before the results were in.
“Seventeen thousand,” Kane reported.
“Oh! Now that is something!”
Arcus’s intuition told him that Kane had purposely lowballed his amount; that his true value was likely closer to nineteen thousand, or even twenty thousand. That was more than the majority of state magicians, and tenfold the aether Arcus possessed. Extraordinary was an understatement. Arcus’s chest hurt.
“A Paragon of Courage indeed!” the instructor went on. “As a fellow Harveston alumnus, I couldn’t be more proud!”
“Oh, well...” Kane looked bashful with his forced smile.
The teacher continued to wax lyrical about his talent, which Kane responded to each time with an appropriately modest remark downplaying his own achievement.
At one point, Arcus caught a glimpse of hollowness in the boy’s eyes.
Huh?
It had probably just been his imagination. When he refocused, he saw the same gentle eyes as before.
Now that Kane was finished, it was time for the rest of the students to measure up. Those who came from noble magic houses averaged around five thousand mana, with none having less than four thousand. The commoners and nonmagic nobles mostly fell between two and four thousand.
“Next: Lecia Raytheft.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lecia accepted the aethometer from the teacher. Holding it to her chest, she closed her eyes...and then unleashed her aether. Like Kane, wind began to wrap around her, although this one burned with a heat that made it seem even more powerful. It too earned her the astonished whispers of her classmates.
“I have...over eleven thousand.”
She’s over the ten thousand mark too, huh?
Arcus’s instincts told him her aether exceeded twelve thousand. He had thought her aether to be approximately fourfold his own; in fact, it was sixfold.
The teacher praised her appropriately, while the other students whispered about the Raythefts and how Lecia’s results were no surprise, considering their long standing in the kingdom.