Chapter 1: The First Star

Magic had changed everything.

Long before Starloris was born, people had already learned how to shape mana into things that once seemed impossible.

Fire could be summoned without flint or fuel. Wind could carry objects through the air. Wounds that might once have taken months to heal could be treated in minutes by a skilled healer.

Over time, magic became more than a tool.

It became part of everyday life.

Magic circles carried people across cities. Runes powered machines and medical equipment. Barriers protected buildings. Lights could be created with little more than a thought.

And even after generations of study, there were still things about magic that nobody completely understood.

That was Starloris’s favorite part about magic: it felt limitless.

His purple eyes followed a faint strand of light moving through the grass outside the classroom window.

At least, he thought it was a strand of light.

Most people probably would have called it sunlight reflecting off the morning dew.

Starloris knew better.

Or at least, he liked to believe he did.

There was something there.

A thin glow seemed to weave between the blades of grass before disappearing beneath the shadow of a tree. Another shimmer moved through its branches as the leaves shifted in the wind.

Even the small bird perched on one of them seemed to carry a faint light around its body.

Everything had mana.

People.

Animals.

Plants.

The world itself seemed filled with it.

Starloris rested his cheek against his hand.

How far does it go?

His gaze drifted upward.

Beyond the academy grounds, the bright blue sky stretched over the town. In the distance, magical structures rose above the rooftops, their runes faintly glowing even during the day.

If everyone has mana, does everything use it the same way?

His fingers slowly reached for the notebook lying open on his desk.

Several pages were already covered in handwriting.

Some notes were organized.

Most were not.

There were unfinished diagrams, questions squeezed into the margins, drawings of magic circles he had seen in books, and entire sections connected by arrows that probably made sense when he originally wrote them.

Probably.

Starloris flipped to an empty corner of the page and wrote:

Can mana exist naturally outside living things?

He paused.

Then added:

If it can, can someone control it?

Another pause.

His eyes widened slightly.

Could you combine natural mana with your own?

His pencil moved faster.

And if different types of mana can be combined, could that create an entirely different kind of magic?

A grin slowly spread across his face.

There it was.

That feeling.

Every answer about magic seemed to create three more questions.

His parents had always told him that he asked too many of them.

Starloris personally considered that impossible.

If something existed, why wouldn't you want to understand it?

Fire Magic could create flames, but why did one person's fire burn hotter than another's?

Healing Magic could repair injuries, but how did the mana know what part of the body was damaged?

Why did some people develop one affinity while others developed something completely different?

Could an affinity change?

Could someone create one?

Could there still be a type of magic nobody had ever discovered?

Starloris stared at his notebook.

That last question had followed him for years.

What if there is?

His smile grew.

What if magic isn't finished?

Maybe people had only discovered the easiest parts.

Maybe there were entire branches of magic nobody understood yet.

Maybe somewhere in the world there was a spell no one had ever cast, an affinity no one had ever seen, or some completely different way of using mana that had never even been considered.

And someday...

Maybe he could be the one to find it.

"Starloris."

Would it need its own affinity?

"Starloris."

Or maybe affinities are just categories people created because

"Starloris Astren."

Starloris blinked.

The glowing grass vanished from his attention.

So did the hypothetical undiscovered branch of magic.

So did the twelve additional questions he had already planned to write down.

He slowly turned away from the window.

All the students were looking at him.

Every single one.

Starloris straightened in his chair.

At the front of the classroom stood Professor Veyra Lumielle.

Her golden eyes were fixed directly on him.

She didn't look angry.

That somehow made it worse.

"Ehh, good morning, Miss Veyra," Starloris said awkwardly.

Someone near the middle of the classroom snorted.

Veyra stared at him for another moment.

"How kind of you to join us."

Starloris glanced around the room.

He had been sitting there the entire time, but saying that probably wouldn't improve the situation.

"Sorry, Miss Veyra."

Veyra folded her arms.

"Since you've been thinking so intensely, perhaps you would like to answer the question."

Starloris immediately looked toward the board.

Nothing.

He looked at his notebook.

Even worse.

His latest notes consisted entirely of theories about natural mana.

Think.

He remembered hearing something about magic.

That narrowed it down to essentially everything.

Starloris cleared his throat and stood.

"Magic is the fundamental force that allows people to shape mana into different effects, and throughout history it has been used to advance society through transportation, medicine, technology, defense, and..."

He noticed Veyra's expression.

"...other things?"

A few students laughed.

Starloris stopped.

Veyra raised an eyebrow.

"The question was why controlling your mana output is important for beginner spellcasting."

Silence.

Starloris slowly sat back down.

"That would've been my second answer."

The laughter grew louder.

He lowered his head and covered part of his face with his notebook.

Fantastic.

First day at Celestial Academy, and he had already demonstrated his incredible ability to answer questions nobody asked.

"At least try to remain in the same classroom as the rest of us, Starloris."

"Yes, Professor," he said, looking down in embarrassment.

Veyra turned back toward the front.

The laughter gradually faded.

Starloris lowered his notebook just enough to look around.

A dark-skinned boy with neat braids and round glasses quickly looked away when their eyes almost met.

Another student with messy orange hair wasn't nearly as polite about it. He was still grinning.

And farther back, a black-haired boy with red eyes gave Starloris a small approving nod, as if answering the completely wrong question had somehow earned his respect.

Starloris wasn't sure whether that made him feel better or worse.

Veyra stepped toward the center of the classroom.

"As I was explaining before someone's journey into the mysteries of the universe..."

A few students laughed again.

Starloris sank slightly lower in his chair.

"...the foundation of magic is not power."

Veyra raised one hand.

"It is control."

The room gradually became quiet.

"Every one of you possesses mana. Some of you may already know your affinity. Others may have only begun to see signs of it."

Starloris's embarrassment faded almost instantly.

His pencil was already back in his hand.

Veyra noticed.

She sighed.

"You may take notes."

Starloris immediately started writing.

FOUNDATION OF MAGIC = CONTROL

Veyra opened her palm.

"Today, we are going to find out how well each of you can actually use it."

Veyra raised her hand in front of the class.

“Before any of you start trying to summon fireballs and destroy my classroom, we are going to begin with something much simpler.”

A few students laughed.

Starloris immediately sat straighter.

Veyra opened her palm.

“Mana exists within every one of you. Your first task is simply to bring a small amount of it outside your body.”

A faint light began to gather above her hand.

It started as a soft white glow before slowly changing into a calm green.

Starloris’s pencil moved almost immediately.

So even Professor Lumielle’s mana starts neutral before changing?

“Do not worry about producing a color,” Veyra continued. “For most beginners, your mana may remain white or barely visible. Today, I only care about control.”

She closed her hand, and the glow disappeared.

“Gather it. Control it. Then allow it to take form.”

Starloris paused his writing.

Gather. Control. Shape.

Veyra looked across the classroom.

“Now it is your turn.”

The classroom went quiet as all the students began to focus on controlling their mana enough to make it appear in the palms of their hands.

Starloris looked around at the other students and began to try it himself.

“Control,” he whispered, taking a deep breath. “Just pull a little bit of mana out into the palm of your hand.”

As Starloris tried to focus, a voice suddenly came from behind him.

“Well, that was easy.”

Starloris opened one eye.

A black-haired student with red eyes held up his palm. A faint red glow burned above it.

Several students nearby turned to look.

“Zephar,” Professor Lumielle said, “keep the mana stable.”

Zephar stared at the glow with a satisfied grin.

“Looks like someone here actually knows what he’s doing.”

A boy with messy orange hair sitting nearby glanced over.

“Congratulations.”

Zephar’s grin widened.

“Thank you.”

“You successfully made your hand red.”

A few students laughed.

Zephar looked toward him.

“Jealous?”

The student rested his cheek against his hand.

“Completely. I may never recover.”

Zephar raised his glowing palm a little higher.

“Just admit you’re impressed.”

“I’ll consider it when you do something impressive.”

Starloris stared between the two of them.

Then back at Zephar’s mana.

Red already...

His attention immediately drifted away from his own hand.

Does that mean his affinity is already developed? How long has he been practicing?

“Starloris.”

He froze.

Professor Lumielle was looking directly at him again.

“Your hand.”

Starloris looked down.

Nothing.

“Right.”

He quickly closed his eyes again.

Focus.

Starloris kept his eyes closed.

Around him, he could hear the faint reactions of other students as their mana began to appear.

A few sounded excited.

Someone laughed.

Another student whispered something he couldn’t make out.

Starloris tried not to listen.

Focus.

He pictured the container again.

Mana slowly gathered inside it.

For a second, nothing happened.

His fingers tightened slightly.

Come on.

He remembered Zephar’s red glow appearing almost immediately.

Valen had managed it too.

For just a moment, an uncomfortable thought crept into his mind.

What if I’m already behind?

Starloris frowned.

No.

That wasn’t useful.

He took another breath.

It doesn’t matter how fast they did it.

He imagined the container tipping forward.

I just need to understand how I do it.

A faint warmth spread through his palm.

Then the smallest white glow appeared.

Starloris opened one eye.

His disappointment vanished instantly.

“There you are.”

The glow trembled above his palm, faint but warm. Starloris held his breath, trying not to disturb it.

Just a little at a time. Keep it steady.

A student behind him leaned over. “That’s cool. You managed to get it to appear.”

Starloris turned his head. “Yeah! I just started thinking about a container of mana pouring onto my hand.”

“A container, huh?” The student adjusted his glasses. “Interesting.”

Starloris looked over at him while trying to maintain his mana control. “I’m Starloris, by the way! Haha… in case you didn’t know.”

“I am Valen Holloway.” As he introduced himself, a white glow appeared in the palm of his hand.

“Today wasn’t about discovering your strongest spell. It was about learning how to control what you already have,” Veyra stated. “Do not try to force out too much mana. You first need to grasp how to control small amounts of output and shape that mana into what you are imagining.”

The bell rang, bringing the day’s lesson to an end.

“I suggest you all give it some thought on the shape and form of your magic as you go home for the day.”

As all the students started packing their things and getting ready to go home, Starloris decided to try one more time. He got the glow to appear much faster than before.

“I wonder how to get my color to show.” He started to release more mana, but before he could let out too much, he heard a loud thud. The sound broke his concentration, and as the magic faded, a small purple star-like twinkle appeared. “What was that glow? Was that me? Maybe I’m getting tired from all this mana exhaustion.”

Starloris walked out of the classroom still staring at his palm, replaying the small purple star in his head.

He made it only a few steps before walking straight into another student.

“You’re the guy from class, right? The one Professor Lumielle had to drag back to reality.”

Starloris looked up, noticing dark black hair and bright red eyes. “Ah, Zephar.”

“The one and only prodigy.” Zephar stood a little taller with pride. “You were staring at your hand pretty intensely earlier. Still thinking about controlling your mana?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get a color out of mine, just a faint white glow,” Starloris said as he slowly glanced back down.

“Well, everyone starts somewhere. Of course, except me. If you want, I can try to teach you how to control it a little better, or at least explain how I control mine.”

Starloris’s eyes began to light up. “Yes! That would be great! I have so many questions that demand answers!” he shouted as he moved closer to Zephar.

“Yeah, yeah. We can get started at the school’s training grounds.” Zephar backed away slightly from Starloris. “What did I just get myself into?”

The two students began walking toward the training grounds. As they passed an open classroom, they couldn’t help overhearing a teacher and student talking.

“You need to take the classes more seriously, Kisen.”

“I am taking it seriously. I seriously considered paying attention,” Kisen responded.

Starloris glanced through the open doorway. A student with messy orange hair sat across from the teacher, leaning back in his chair casually shuffling a deck of cards.

“Keep walking,” Zephar said. “Trust me, you don’t want to get involved with that guy.”

“You know him?”

“Unfortunately,” he responded with a sigh.

The two students began walking through the academy halls before stepping outside toward the training grounds.

Starloris looked around almost immediately.

The academy felt completely different from the town surrounding it.

Outside the school grounds, magic was common, but it was usually used for simple things: lights, transportation, signs, tools, and other everyday tasks.

Inside Celestial Academy, magic seemed to be everywhere.

A glowing rune sign floated near the pathway, changing directions as students walked past it. Small lights slowly began turning on around the academy as the sun lowered in the sky.

Farther away, several students practiced Wind Magic on a platform floating above the ground.

Starloris stopped walking.

“Wait.”

Zephar continued for another few steps before realizing Starloris was no longer beside him.

“What?”

Starloris pointed toward the floating platform.

“How is that staying up there?”

Zephar looked at it.

“Magic.”

Starloris stared at him.

“I know that.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“What kind of magic?”

Zephar shrugged.

“No idea.”

Starloris looked offended.

“How do you not want to know?”

“Because I have more important things to think about.”

“Like?”

Zephar smiled.

“Becoming the strongest Mana user alive.”

Starloris slowly nodded.

“Right. Of course.”

They continued walking.

As they continued toward the training grounds, Starloris noticed another group of students gathered around several damaged stone targets.

One student pressed both hands toward the ground.

The cracks running through the targets began to close as pieces of stone pulled themselves back together.

Starloris slowed down again.

Zephar noticed immediately.

“No.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

Starloris pointed toward the targets.

“They’re repairing themselves.”

“Earth Magic.”

“But look at the precision! They’re not just moving the stone. They’re putting every broken piece back where it was.”

Zephar kept walking.

“Star.”

“Right. Training grounds.”

Starloris hurried after him.

A few seconds later, a floating sphere of water passed above them, following another student across the courtyard.

Starloris looked up.

Zephar sighed.

“Don’t.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“You absolutely were.”

Starloris looked toward the academy buildings as they passed.

Some parts looked like a normal school, with large stone buildings, classrooms, courtyards, and paths connecting everything together.

Other parts looked completely different.

Magic circles were built directly into certain pathways. Students stepped onto them and disappeared in flashes of light before appearing farther across the academy.

A large barrier surrounded one of the distant training areas. Every few seconds, the barrier flashed as spells struck against it from inside.

Starloris watched a burst of fire explode against the barrier.

The entire surface briefly turned purple before becoming invisible again.

“That is amazing.”

Zephar glanced over.

“You’re easily impressed.”

“That barrier just stopped an explosion.”

“That is what barriers are supposed to do.”

“Yes, but how?”

Zephar sighed.

“This is going to be a long practice session.”

Starloris smiled.

“You volunteered.”

“I am beginning to regret that.”

They continued toward the training grounds.

Beyond the academy walls, Starloris could still see parts of the town below. Houses, shops, streets, and people moving through their normal routines.

Compared to the academy, it almost looked peaceful.

“The town feels completely different from here,” Starloris said.

Zephar nodded.

“Most places do.”

Starloris looked toward him.

“What do you mean?”

“People use magic every day, but most people are not training to become mages.”

Zephar pointed toward the academy grounds.

“This place was built for it.”

Starloris looked around again.

Students were practicing spells in almost every direction.

Small flames appeared and disappeared.

Gusts of wind moved across the fields.

Glowing barriers formed around students before breaking apart.

For the first time since arriving at the academy, Starloris really stopped and took everything in.

This was a place built around learning magic.

A place where people actually studied it.

Experimented with it.

Improved it.

Maybe even discovered new things.

Starloris smiled.

Zephar noticed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You have that weird look on your face again.”

“What weird look?”

“The one where it looks like you are thinking about twenty things at once.”

Starloris paused.

“…Only about seven.”

Zephar shook his head.

“Come on. The training grounds are right ahead.”

Starloris followed him, still looking around.

For once, he had the strange feeling that there might actually be enough magic here to keep him busy.

Maybe.

They finally reached the open training grounds.

Zephar stepped forward and turned toward Starloris.

“Alright, magic nerd.”

He pointed at him.

“Let’s see what you can do.”

Starloris nodded and extended his hand, opening his palm.

“Hope you’re ready for my super mana expansion.”

Zephar stared at him with a blank expression.

“I can’t believe you really just said that.”

Starloris closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Slowly, a faint white glow began to gather above his palm.

His eyes opened.

“Ha! How do you like that?”

Zephar leaned closer, studying the small glow.

“You gathered it pretty quickly,” he said sarcastically.

Starloris grinned. “Obviously.”

“Don’t get excited yet. Gathering mana is the easy part, so now try to shape the mana into something.”

Starloris looked down at the glow in his palm.

“Shape it into what?”

Zephar shrugged. “Anything. A ball, a cube, a star. It doesn’t matter. Just make it hold a form.”

Starloris focused.

The white mana stretched slightly, then wobbled and collapsed back into a shapeless glow.

“...That was supposed to be a star.”

Zephar smirked. “That looked like a dying potato.”

“I’m warming up.”

“Sure you are. Gathering mana is just pulling it together. Shaping it means controlling where that mana goes and keeping it there.”

He raised his hand, forming a small flame above his palm.

“The more detailed the shape, the more control you need.”

Starloris watched as mana began to glow in Zephar’s palm. The light slowly shifted in color until a small, controlled flame appeared above his hand.

Zephar raised one finger, and the flame curled around it in a slow spiral.

“The better your control is, the more you can do with your mana without hurting yourself. Good control also means you waste less mana when you cast.”

“So someone with less mana could still beat someone with more if they had better control?”

The flame continued to spiral around Zephar’s finger before shrinking into a tiny ember.

“Right. Mana is basically the energy your body uses for magic,” Zephar said. “Everyone has it, but not everyone has the same amount.”

He opened his hand again, letting the ember grow back into a small flame.

“How much mana you have in total is your capacity. Think of it like how much water a container can hold.”

Starloris watched closely.

“So having more mana means you’re stronger?”

“Not exactly.”

Zephar made the flame grow larger.

“This is output. It’s how much mana you can release at once.”

The flame suddenly shrank until it was barely the size of a candle.

“Someone can have a huge amount of mana and still be terrible at using it.”

“That sounds inefficient.”

“Very.”

Zephar flicked his finger, and the flame split into three smaller flames that floated around his hand.

“Control is what actually matters. Better control means you can use less mana to get the same result.”

Starloris immediately looked more interested.

“So if two people use the same spell—”

“The one with better control might spend less mana.”

“And keep fighting longer.”

Zephar smirked. “Now you’re getting it.”

The three flames merged back together.

“Then there’s affinity.”

The flame brightened slightly.

“Everyone’s mana has a tendency. Mine naturally responds to fire. I don’t have to force it as much.”

“But you can still use other magic?”

“Basic stuff, sure. Raw mana, simple barriers, things like that. But if I tried doing something way outside my affinity, it would take more effort and more mana.”

Starloris glanced down at the white glow still hovering above his palm.

“So affinity is basically what your mana is best at.”

“Pretty much.”

Zephar closed his hand, extinguishing the flame.

“And the last thing you need to understand is that mana isn’t unlimited.”

He pointed toward Starloris.

“Use too much and your body starts paying for it. You get tired, dizzy, shaky. Push far enough and you’ll pass out.”

“And if you keep going?”

Zephar’s expression became a little more serious.

“Then you can actually hurt yourself.”

Starloris looked down at his hand again.

“So magic isn’t just about having power.”

“Exactly.”

Zephar raised another small flame.

“It’s about how well you use what you have.”

Starloris stared at the flame for a few seconds.

Then his eyes lit up.

“Wait, so if control reduces mana waste, could someone with a smaller mana capacity still outlast someone with a larger one?”

Zephar blinked.

“Well, yeah, probably.”

“And if affinity is just what mana responds to naturally, can you train it to respond differently?”

“I mean—”

“Can affinities change?”

“Sometimes, I think.”

“Can two affinities mix?”

“Star.”

“What happens if someone shapes mana before they fully gather it? Can raw mana be compressed? Does denser mana hit harder? Can you change output without changing the spell itself?”

Zephar slowly lowered his hand.

“Do you breathe?”

Starloris had already pulled out his notebook.

“You said better control uses less mana. How much less?”

“I don’t know.”

“Five percent? Ten? Does it depend on the spell?”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

Starloris scribbled something down anyway.

Zephar stared at him. “What are you writing?”

“Questions for later.”

“That page is already full.”

“If magic works like this… how do we know these are actually the limits?”

Zephar paused.

“What?”

Starloris looked back at the glow in his palm.

“People figured out how to use magic. That doesn’t mean they figured out everything magic can do.”

“Well, yeah, that would make sense… How about instead of all this thinking, you give it a try?”

Starloris paused for a second, then closed his notebook. “You’re right.” He took a deep breath and focused.

“That’s it. First, try to gather a small amount of mana.”

“Got it. Then I start shaping it, right?”

“That’s right. Just focus on the raw mana in your palm, then try to shape and form it.”

Starloris nodded and stared at his palm.

Gather first.

He closed his eyes and pictured the container again.

This time, he didn’t try to fill it all at once.

Just a little.

In his mind, the mana slowly gathered inside the container before pouring through a narrow opening.

A faint white glow began to form above his palm.

“Good,” Zephar said. “Now don’t rush it.”

Starloris focused on the warmth spreading through his hand.

Control it.

The glow flickered slightly.

He steadied his breathing.

Now shape it.

For a moment, he considered making a simple ball.

He nodded his head.

No.

If he was going to try this again, he wanted to make something he actually cared about.

A star.

He pictured it clearly in his mind.

Five points.

Small enough to rest above his palm.

Every edge sharp and connected.

The white mana began to stretch.

One point formed.

Then another.

Starloris’s brow tightened.

The mana wobbled, threatening to collapse.

Don’t force it. Guide it.

He adjusted the flow, allowing less mana into one side and more into another.

A third point slowly took shape.

Zephar leaned forward slightly.

“There you go.”

Starloris barely heard him.

The warmth in his palm grew stronger.

The white glow began to change.

A faint purple light appeared near the center.

What?

His concentration almost broke.

“Don’t stop now,” Zephar said.

Starloris clenched his jaw and focused again.

The fourth point formed.

Then the fifth.

He slowly opened his eyes.

A small purple-white star hovered above his palm.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

The shape wasn’t perfect.

One point was slightly longer than the others, and the edges trembled whenever his concentration shifted.

But it was unmistakably there.

A star.

Something he had pictured only moments ago was now floating above his hand.

The center glowed with a faint purple light while the outer edges remained almost completely white.

Starloris barely breathed.

The warmth he had felt before seemed stronger now, spreading from his palm into his fingertips.

I shaped it.

His eyes widened.

Not copied.

Not something Professor Lumielle had demonstrated.

Not something Zephar told him to make.

He had imagined a shape and somehow convinced his mana to follow it.

Zephar leaned slightly closer.

“Huh.”

Starloris looked toward him.

“Huh?”

“That’s actually not bad.”

Starloris stared at him.

“Not bad?”

Zephar immediately realized his mistake.

Starloris’s grin grew.

“Oh no.”

“I did it.”

“Stay calm.”

“I REALLY DID IT!”

“Star—”

“ZEPHAR, DO YOU SEE THIS?!”

“Yes! I am standing right here!”

Zephar nodded. “Now stay calm and slowly pour a little more mana into it.”

“Right... okay.”

Starloris took another breath and focused.

The star began to grow.

Zephar’s expression changed.

“Uh... Starloris?”

“I’m concentrating.”

“It’s expanding pretty fast.”

“I know.”

“Starloris?”

“I KNOW!”

The star trembled violently above his palm.

“I’m trying here! It’s getting harder to control by the second!”

Zephar slowly took a step backward.

“Well, I’m going to stand over there while this blows up in your face. Good luck.”

Starloris immediately grabbed the front of Zephar’s uniform with his free hand.

“You wouldn’t dare leave your dear best friend in his time of need, would you?!”

Zephar stared at him.

“Best friend? When did that happen?”

“Since we created this problem!”

“WE?!”

Zephar pointed at the unstable star.

“I told you small amounts, slowly!”

“You were the teacher!”

“That does not make me responsible for whatever this is!”

The star gave a sharp pulse.

Both of them froze.

“...Zephar?”

“Run.”

The star popped.

Purple-white sparkles burst across the training ground.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Zephar looked down at himself, now covered in glowing specks.

Starloris slowly looked up at him.

“So... good news.”

“There is no good news.”

“I made it bigger.”

“Yeah, it sure did.”

The last few sparkles slowly faded around them.

Starloris looked down at his palm.

His expression changed.

“Wait.”

Zephar brushed glowing dust off his sleeve. “What now?”

“It turned purple.”

Zephar paused.

Starloris looked back at him.

“You saw that, right?”

“I saw the part where you almost blew us both up.”

“Before that.”

Zephar sighed.

“Yeah. I saw it.”

Starloris’s eyes lit up again.

“So that means something.”

“Probably.”

“Probably?!”

“I’m fifteen, Star. I don’t have every answer about magic.”

Starloris was already reaching for his notebook.

Zephar immediately grabbed his wrist.

“No.”

“But—”

“Practice first. Existential magic crisis later.”

Starloris stared at him for a moment.

“Fine.”

Zephar let go.

“This time, make the star small.”

“How small?”

“Small enough that I don’t have to evacuate the academy.”

They practiced until the light over the training grounds began to fade.

Starloris learned to gather the mana faster.

He learned to hold the star for a few seconds longer.

He learned that making it larger was significantly easier than stopping it from becoming larger.

Zephar learned that Starloris was physically incapable of asking only one question at a time.

By the end of the session, a small purple-white star hovered steadily above Starloris’s palm.

It still flickered.

It still wasn’t perfect.

But it was there.

Zephar stretched his arms as the last of the daylight slipped behind the academy buildings.

“That’s enough for today.”

Starloris looked down at the small purple-white star hovering above his palm.

“I can keep going.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open.”

“That is unrelated.”

“You also almost blew us both up.”

“That was one time.”

“It was three.”

Starloris paused.

“Those other two barely count.”

Zephar shook his head and started walking toward the path.

“Come on, best friend.”

Starloris froze.

Zephar glanced back with a grin.

“What?”

Starloris let the mana fade from his hand and followed him, smiling.

“Nothing.”

As they reached the edge of the training grounds, Zephar glanced back at him.

“Practice the small stuff first. Don’t try anything stupid.”

Starloris smiled.

“I make no promises.”

“That is exactly what I was afraid of.”

The two split off near the academy entrance.

Starloris started down the path toward town, but his attention quickly drifted back to his palm.

The star was gone.

The feeling wasn’t.

Gather. Control. Shape.

He smiled to himself.

Starloris continued down the path toward town as the last bit of sunlight disappeared behind the academy.

His body felt exhausted.

His mind absolutely did not.

Purple.

He looked down at his palm again.

Why did it turn purple?

He had already thought of at least six possibilities before reaching the end of the street.

Seven, actually.

The seventh involved mana reacting to imagination, which immediately became his favorite.

By the time Starloris reached home, the magical lights along the streets had fully awakened.

He pushed open the front door.

“I’m home!”

Silence.

Starloris slowly closed the door behind him.

“...That sounded suspiciously empty.”

“You’re late.”

Starloris froze.

His mother stood farther inside the house with her arms crossed.

“Late is a strong word.”

“School ended hours ago.”

“Slightly late?”

Starloris stepped farther inside and dropped his bag beside the door.

His mother was still staring at him.

“So,” she said, “what exactly kept you at the academy this late?”

Starloris’s tired expression disappeared almost instantly.

“Magic.”

His mother blinked.

His father leaned out from the kitchen.

“That narrows it down considerably.”

Starloris pointed toward him.

“Exactly.”

His mother looked between the two of them.

“That was sarcasm.”

“I know,” Starloris said.

His father nodded. “I’m proud of him.”

“You are not helping.”

“I rarely do.”

Starloris smiled and started pulling his notebook from his bag.

“I was practicing with someone from my class. His name is Zephar.”

His father raised an eyebrow.

“You made a friend already?”

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“He tried to abandon me when my magic was about to explode.”

His mother’s expression changed immediately.

“It was not a dangerous explosion,” Starloris added quickly.

His father stepped fully into the room.

“What kind of explosion?”

Starloris paused.

“Sparkles.”

His father stared at him.

Then slowly nodded.

“Respectable.”

His mother turned toward him.

“Do not encourage this.”

“I’m just saying, if something has to explode, sparkles are probably the best possible outcome.”

Starloris pointed at him again.

“See? He gets it.”

“I regret asking either of you anything.”

Starloris smiled and opened his notebook.

“We learned about mana control today. Gathering, output, shaping, affinity, all of it.”

His father leaned against the doorway.

“All of it?”

“Well... enough of it.”

His mother gave him a knowing look.

“That means he has questions.”

“I have several.”

“Several?”

Starloris looked down at the pages.

“Currently.”

His father laughed.

His father looked back toward Starloris’s notebook.

“So what is this Zephar kid actually like?”

Starloris thought about it.

“Confident.”

“That sounds harmless.”

“Very confident.”

His mother raised an eyebrow.

“How confident?”

“He called himself a prodigy several times.”

His father nodded slowly.

“I like him already.”

“Why?”

“Confidence builds character.”

His mother crossed her arms.

“Humility also builds character.”

His father glanced toward her.

“That sounds significantly less fun.”

Starloris laughed.

“He did help me a lot, though.”

His father smiled.

“Then he sounds like a good kid.”

“He also threatened to leave me alone with exploding magic.”

His father paused.

“Still undecided.”

“Sparkle explosion,” Starloris reminded him.

“Right.”

His father nodded again.

“Back to good kid.”

Starloris began flipping through his notes.

“Zephar explained that mana capacity is basically how much mana you have total, while output is how much you can release at once. And control determines how efficiently you actually use it.”

His mother nodded.

“That is a good foundation.”

“And affinity is what your mana naturally responds to.”

His father crossed his arms.

“Sounds like your friend knows what he’s talking about.”

“He does.”

Starloris paused.

“Sometimes.”

“That confidence disappeared quickly.”

“He also tried to abandon me during the explosion.”

“Sparkle explosion,” his father corrected.

“Right. Important distinction.”

His mother sighed.

Starloris grinned before looking back down at his palm.

“But something weird happened.”

The room grew a little quieter.

“At first, my mana was still white.”

He slowly opened his hand as if trying to recreate the moment.

“Then when I started shaping it into a star... it changed.”

His father’s smile faded slightly.

“Changed how?”

“Purple.”

Neither of his parents spoke for a moment.

Starloris looked between them.

“You both just made the same face.”

His mother relaxed her expression.

“What face?”

“That face.”

His father glanced toward her.

“We have a face?”

“Yes.”

Starloris pointed between them.

“The secret-parent face.”

“There is no secret-parent face,” his mother said.

“There absolutely is.”

His father rubbed his chin.

“I thought we were better at hiding it.”

His mother slowly turned toward him.

“You are making this worse.”

“I know.”

Starloris stared at them.

“So purple means something?”

His mother stepped closer.

“It might.”

“Might?”

“Mana color can sometimes hint toward affinity, but it does not always give a clear answer.”

Starloris frowned.

“But yours is light.”

“Yes.”

“And Dad’s is wind.”

His father nodded.

“So what would purple be?”

His parents exchanged another glance.

There it was again.

The face.

Starloris narrowed his eyes.

“You did it again.”

His father immediately looked away.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Terrible liar.”

“Runs in the family.”

“From your side,” his mother added.

His father placed a hand over his chest.

“Unbelievable.”

Starloris laughed, but his attention quickly returned to his palm.

Purple mana.

A star.

Neither answer made sense yet.

And somehow, that only made him more interested.

His mother rested a hand on his shoulder.

“It was your first day, Star.”

“I know.”

“You do not need to understand everything tonight.”

Starloris looked at her.

His father smiled.

“Your mother is right.”

Starloris raised an eyebrow.

“You just agreed with her very quickly.”

“I enjoy living here.”

His mother stared at him.

“Smart answer.”

Starloris laughed again.

“Fine. I’ll stop thinking about it.”

Both of his parents stared at him.

Starloris lasted approximately two seconds.

“I’m going to write down a few theories first.”

His father nodded.

“There he is.”

Later that night, Starloris sat at his desk with his notebook open beneath the soft light of his room.

The house had gone quiet.

His parents had already told him twice to get some sleep.

Technically, he intended to.

Eventually.

He stared at the notes he had written throughout the day.

Gather. Control. Shape.

Below that were several new questions.

Why did the mana turn purple?

Why a star?

Was the shape only because I imagined it?

Does affinity affect shape, color, or both?

He tapped the end of his pencil against the page.

Then slowly looked toward his hand.

“One more time.”

He opened his palm.

A faint white glow appeared.

Much faster than it had that morning.

Starloris smiled.

Gather.

The glow strengthened.

Control.

He carefully reduced the flow.

The mana steadied.

Shape.

He pictured the star.

One point.

Then another.

The shape slowly formed above his palm.

And once again, purple light appeared near its center.

Starloris stared at it.

There was that warmth again.

But this time, something felt different.

The tiny star pulsed.

Once.

Then twice.

Starloris leaned closer.

“What are you?”

For the briefest moment, the purple light inside the star seemed to deepen.

Not brighter.

Deeper.

Almost as if there were something farther inside it.

Something distant.

Something he could not quite see.

Then the star vanished.

Starloris froze.

His room fell silent.

He slowly looked down at his notebook.

Then back at his empty palm.

A grin spread across his face.

He grabbed his pencil.

New question: What if my magic is trying to become something?

Starloris stared at the sentence.

Outside his window, the night sky stretched endlessly above the town.

Thousands of stars filled the darkness.

And for the first time in his life, Starloris felt like one of them might be staring back.