Malcolm stared at the small essence orb floating above his palm, its gentle amber glow casting soft shadows across his face in the pre-dawn darkness of his dormitory. Tsuji was still asleep, his breathing a steady rhythm from the other side of the room.

  For nearly a week since discovering his void pool's decomposition ability, Malcolm had been experimenting relentlessly. His soul space had become a small laboratory, holding an ever-growing collection of essence orbs extracted from various materials he'd "borrowed" from the dumping ground. He'd tried dozens of combinations, discovering that some essences merged easily while others repelled each other. He'd even managed to recompose a few simple substances by releasing the essences into empty containers, though the results weren't always predictable.

  The amber orb hovering above his palm had come from a wilting goldenroot herb—a common ingredient in basic fever remedies according to the Academy texts. Traditional processing required drying the herb for three days, grinding it to powder, steeping it in purified water, straining it three times, then exposing it to gentle flame for exactly seven minutes—all while chanting specific cultivation mantras.

  His void pool had extracted the pure essence in seconds.

  But what could he actually do with these essences? So far, he'd just been collecting them, occasionally combining compatible ones to see what happened. He hadn't yet attempted to use them for anything practical.

  Today, that would change.

  Malcolm carefully guided the amber orb back into his soul space and closed his eyes. The familiar visualization came easily now—the small spherical area, barely a meter in diameter, with the bowl-sized void pool at the bottom and the collection of essence orbs hovering above it like a miniature constellation.

  He selected the amber essence and a complementary blue orb extracted from mountain mint, guiding them together. They merged with that now-familiar resonant sensation, forming a new orb that pulsed with swirling green-gold energy. Traditional fever remedies often combined these two herbs, though the processing took hours. Malcolm had created the combination in seconds.

  He opened his eyes as the morning gong sounded through the dormitory. Today's Practical Alchemy session would require students to create a basic fever remedy—exactly what he'd just prepared the essence for. If his theory was right, he could use the essence orb to bypass most of the tedious preparation steps.

  Tsuji stirred, sitting up with perfect posture even as he blinked sleep from his eyes. "You're awake early," he noted, his tone implying suspicion.

  "Couldn't sleep," Malcolm shrugged, already pulling on his uniform. "Nervous about the practical."

  Tsuji sniffed. "The preparation is straightforward if you followed Professor Liko's reading assignments."

  "Yeah, yeah, I read them," Malcolm lied. In truth, he'd been so consumed with his void pool experiments that he'd fallen even further behind in his theoretical studies. But if his plan worked, it wouldn't matter.

  The practical alchemy laboratory buzzed with activity as first-year students set up their workstations. Long stone tables lined the room, each equipped with small burners, mortars and pestles, measuring devices, and vessels of various shapes. The air smelled of herbs and minerals, with undertones of smoke from dozens of small flames. Morning sunlight streamed through high windows, catching motes of herb dust dancing in the air above the busy stations.

  Master Seiran stood at the front of the room, watching as students organized their materials. "Today's exercise is foundational," he announced. "The Gentle Calm Remedy is perhaps the most basic fever treatment in our pharmacopeia, yet it demonstrates core principles of elemental harmony. Begin by preparing your ingredients as described in chapter four of your texts."

  Students moved to the supply cabinets, gathering dried goldenroot, mountain mint, and the other required components. Malcolm joined them, collecting small amounts of each ingredient as expected. He needed to maintain appearances, even if he planned to take a shortcut.

  Back at his station, Malcolm arranged his materials neatly, mimicking the precise layouts of his classmates. The trick would be finding a moment to use his prepared essence without being observed. He glanced around, noting that Master Seiran was moving between workstations, watching students begin the grinding process.

  Malcolm picked up his mortar and pestle, making a show of carefully measuring ingredients for grinding. When Master Seiran turned to assist a student three stations away, Malcolm quickly closed his eyes and reached into his soul space, mentally grasping the green-gold essence orb he'd prepared.

  Drawing it out was trickier than he expected. He'd practiced putting things into his soul space and moving them around within it, but extracting the pure essence proved challenging. After a moment of concentration, he felt a slight pressure behind his eyes, then a warm sensation as the essence seemed to flow through some invisible channel into his physical hand.

  Malcolm kept his hand beneath the table, feeling the essence orb materialize in his palm—a warm, tingling sphere of energy. He glanced up to make sure no one was watching, then quickly brought his hand over his mixing bowl and released the essence.

  The orb dissipated into the empty bowl, leaving behind a faint luminous residue that quickly faded to nothing. For a second, Malcolm panicked—had it worked? There was no visible result, nothing to show for his effort. Had he just wasted a perfectly good essence orb?

  "Sinclair-san, you appear to be behind schedule," came Master Seiran's voice from directly behind him.

  Malcolm jumped, nearly knocking over his mortar. "Sorry, Master, I was just—"

  "Your ingredients are not even prepared, yet you stare at an empty bowl," Master Seiran observed, his eyebrow raised. "Perhaps you are reconsidering your approach?"

  "I, um—" Malcolm fumbled for an explanation, when suddenly, the empty bowl began to emit a faint glow. Master Seiran's eyes widened slightly as a shimmering, translucent liquid seemed to materialize within the vessel, filling it halfway with a perfect golden-green solution.

  "Interesting," the master said quietly. "What technique is this?"

  Malcolm's mind raced. He couldn't reveal his void pool's abilities, but he needed some explanation for the sudden appearance of the remedy.

  "It's a... condensation method," he improvised. "From Redoak. We focus on the essence of ingredients rather than their physical form."

  His cousin had once mentioned something about "essence concentration points" in certain herbs – probably just a folk remedy concept, but it was the only thing Malcolm could think of that might sound plausible. He'd never actually learned any such technique in Redoak, but Master Seiran wouldn't know that.

  Master Seiran studied the bowl with narrowed eyes. "I am unfamiliar with this approach." He produced a small crystal rod from his sleeve and dipped it into the liquid. The rod glowed briefly, changing from clear to a pale green. "Yet the resonance signature appears correct, if unusually potent."

  Other students had begun to notice, some craning their necks to see what was happening at Malcolm's station. Whispers spread across the laboratory.

  "Complete your preparations and we will test the efficacy," Master Seiran instructed, moving on to the next station though his expression remained thoughtful.

  Malcolm exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. It had worked—better than he'd expected. The essence orb had reconstituted itself into the physical remedy without any additional processing. Not only had he skipped hours of preparation, but the resulting liquid looked more vibrant than the murky concoctions his classmates were painstakingly creating.

  He caught Mira watching him from the doorway, where she was apparently delivering a message to Master Seiran. Her eyes narrowed slightly, suspicious, before she turned away. Great. Another person wondering what he was up to.

  By the time Master Seiran called for the testing phase, Malcolm had already bottled his remedy in one of the small glass vials provided. The other students were still finishing their preparations, many looking frustrated as they tried to achieve the proper consistency.

  Testing involved applying a few drops of the remedy to specially treated paper that changed color based on efficacy. Master Seiran moved methodically through the classroom, placing three drops from each student's vial onto separate test papers.

  Most turned a pale mint green—the expected result for a correctly prepared basic remedy. When he reached Malcolm's station, the master applied the drops with particular attention.

  The paper flared bright emerald, almost glowing, before settling into a deep jade color significantly more vibrant than any other student's result.

  A murmur ran through the classroom. Master Seiran's expression remained neutral, but his eyes betrayed his surprise.

  "Unusually potent," he commented. "Perhaps you would explain your methodology to the class, Sinclair-san?"

  All eyes turned to Malcolm. He swallowed hard, realizing he hadn't prepared for this. "Well, uh, in Redoak we believe that plants have their essence concentrated in specific points," he began, recalling something his herbalist cousin had once mentioned. "Rather than processing the entire plant, we... identify those essence points and extract them directly."

  Vague enough to sound plausible without revealing anything, he hoped.

  "Fascinating," Master Seiran said, in a tone that suggested he wasn't entirely convinced. "And this extraction process—it is considerably faster than our traditional methods?"

  "Yes, Master. Though it, uh, requires a specific type of sensitivity that takes years to develop." Another lie, but a necessary one.

  From the back of the room, a voice cut through the murmurs. "Or perhaps Sinclair-san simply added a strengthening agent not listed in the formula."

  The speaker was Lian Koda, a third-year student who occasionally assisted in first-year classes. Tall and immaculately groomed, with sharp features and perfect posture, Lian was known for his precision in alchemical work—and his disdain for those who deviated from established methods.

  "A serious accusation," Master Seiran replied, turning to face Lian. "Do you have evidence for this claim?"

  Lian approached, his movements graceful and controlled. "Only observation, Master. No novice alchemist produces results of this quality on their first attempt at a formulation. Particularly not one who struggles with basic flame cultivation." His gaze fixed on Malcolm, challenge evident in his eyes.

  Malcolm felt heat rising to his face. "I didn't cheat, if that's what you're suggesting."

  "Not cheating, perhaps," Lian replied smoothly. "Creative reinterpretation of the assignment parameters."

  "That's enough, Koda-san," Master Seiran interjected. "Unusual results warrant investigation, not accusation." He turned back to Malcolm. "I would be interested in observing this Redoak technique more directly in our next individual session, Sinclair-san."

  Malcolm's stomach dropped. How could he demonstrate a technique he'd completely fabricated? "Of course, Master," he managed, hoping his panic didn't show on his face.

  "Excellent. For now, continue with your work. Class, return to your stations and complete your preparations."

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  As Master Seiran moved away, Lian lingered, studying Malcolm with undisguised suspicion. "Your 'Redoak techniques' are certainly convenient," he said quietly. "I look forward to learning more about them."

  The threat in his voice was barely veiled. Malcolm forced a smile. "Happy to share," he replied with false cheerfulness. "Always good to compare methods, right?"

  Lian didn't return the smile. "Indeed. Especially when those methods produce... unexpected results." With a slight bow that somehow managed to seem condescending, he returned to his position at the back of the room.

  Great. Now he had Seiran's focused attention and Lian's suspicion to deal with. Malcolm turned back to his station, mind racing. He needed to develop a more convincing explanation before his next session with Master Seiran—one that would satisfy the master's curiosity without revealing the void pool's true capabilities.

  "That was a pretty bold move back there," Mira said, catching Malcolm between classes in the courtyard. She kept her voice low, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot. "Master Seiran isn't stupid, you know."

  "What move?" Malcolm tried his best innocent face, which had never fooled anyone back home either.

  Mira gave him a flat look. "Creating a perfect remedy in seconds with zero processing? While the rest of us spent an hour grinding herbs and reciting mantras?" She folded her arms. "This has something to do with that weird pool in your soul space, doesn't it?"

  Malcolm shifted uncomfortably. Mira was too perceptive for her own good. "Maybe I'm just naturally talented," he suggested with a grin.

  "Naturally reckless, certainly." She lowered her voice. "Whatever you're doing, be careful. Lian Koda has connections in the upper years, and he doesn't appreciate being shown up by first-years—especially foreign ones."

  "I wasn't trying to show anyone up," Malcolm protested. "I was just completing the assignment."

  "By bypassing every traditional step in the process," Mira pointed out. "Which is precisely the kind of innovation that threatens those who have spent years mastering the traditional methods."

  Malcolm hadn't considered that perspective. To him, finding a more efficient approach was just common sense. But in status-conscious Kagetsu, such shortcuts might be seen as disrespectful to established hierarchies.

  "So what am I supposed to do? Pretend to be worse than I am?"

  Mira sighed. "Just... be discreet. Master Seiran seems intrigued rather than offended, which is fortunate. But others may not be so open-minded."

  As Mira walked away, Malcolm considered her warning. Being discreet wasn't exactly his strong suit—back in Redoak, innovation was celebrated, not hidden. But he was beginning to understand that Enshin operated by different rules.

  Rules he would need to navigate carefully if he wanted to continue exploring his void pool's potential.

  The afternoon sun filtered through scattered clouds as Malcolm crossed the academy grounds toward the western gate. A cool breeze carried the scent of the autumn flowers blooming in the formal gardens, a pleasant contrast to what awaited him in the dumping ground. He found himself looking forward to his resource management duties now—each discarded item represented new possibilities for experimentation.

  That afternoon, Malcolm completed his collection rounds with unusual enthusiasm. Each discarded item represented potential new material for experimentation. He collected an eclectic assortment—dried herbs past their prime, mineral samples with minor impurities, even a broken focusing crystal that still held traces of magical energy.

  In his secluded workspace at the northeastern corner of the dumping ground, he spread his findings on the weathered table. Elder Mozu had not appeared for the past few days, but Malcolm could sense the old man's awareness of his activities. Occasionally he would find small notes tucked under items in his workspace—cryptic comments like "Three parts essence, one part base" or "Morning collection holds stronger properties."

  Today's haul included something particularly interesting—a cracked vial containing residue of what appeared to be a failed stability potion. According to his readings, stability potions were notoriously difficult to create, requiring precise temperature control and timing. This one had likely been discarded by an upper-year student after crystallizing incorrectly.

  Malcolm settled on his stool and closed his eyes, accessing his soul space. The cramped spherical area appeared immediately in his mind's eye—the limited meter-wide space growing more crowded as his collection of essence orbs increased. The small bowl-sized void pool at the bottom seemed to pulse with anticipation, as if aware of his intentions. The green essence orb from yesterday's herb stem still hovered above it, glowing with its own inner light.

  He brought the failed stability potion into his soul space and carefully lowered it into the small void pool. The reaction was more vigorous than usual—bubbling and steaming as the pool processed the complex mixture. After a full minute of intense activity, the pool settled.

  Three essence orbs emerged: a deep blue one pulsing with steady energy, a smaller silver one that seemed to repel the others when they drifted too close, and a cloudy white orb that appeared unstable, its form shifting constantly.

  At the edge of the pool, small piles of material appeared—fine crystal dust, metallic residue, and what looked like salt. The blue mist that always accompanied decomposition was thicker this time, swirling around Malcolm's soul space with visible currents.

  "Interesting," Malcolm murmured. "The failed potion separated into its component essences."

  He poked at the pile of salt-like crystals, wondering which ingredient had produced it. The silver essence orb drifted closer as he did, suggesting a connection between them. Malcolm studied the three orbs, comparing their properties to what he'd read about stability potions. The blue seemed to represent stability itself—its energy pattern was constant and unwavering. The silver appeared to be some kind of binding agent, while the unstable white orb was likely the problematic element that had caused the potion to fail.

  This opened up exciting possibilities. If he could extract essences from failed potions and recombine them correctly, he could potentially salvage materials that would otherwise be wasted. Even better, he might be able to identify exactly what had gone wrong in the original formulation.

  On impulse, he guided the blue and silver orbs together, merging them while excluding the unstable white component. They combined smoothly, forming a new essence that glowed with metallic blue light and felt remarkably solid, even in its energetic form.

  Malcolm drew this new essence out of his soul space and into his palm, where it materialized as a small sphere of energy. When he released it into an empty vial, it transformed into a shimmering liquid that settled with unusual stillness—not a ripple disturbed its surface despite the movement of the container.

  "A perfect stability base," Malcolm whispered, amazed. He had just reclaimed a failed potion and potentially improved upon the original formula by eliminating the unstable component.

  The implications were enormous. If he could apply this principle to other failed potions, he could create a small business recovering valuable essences that others discarded. The Academy might throw away imperfect results, but the raw materials still held value—value his void pool could extract efficiently.

  For the next hour, Malcolm methodically tested different materials. A piece of oak bark produced a brown-amber essence orb. A dried mushroom cap yielded a milky white sphere with gray striations. Each time, the original material completely disappeared, broken down into its core components—pure essence captured in the floating orbs and base matter transformed into that rich soil-like substance.

  Some materials took longer to process than others. The denser the item, the more time the small bowl-sized pool needed to break it down. But the result was always the same: complete decomposition, with nothing of the original form remaining.

  "This is incredible," Malcolm muttered, watching a jade-green orb rise from the pool after processing a handful of moss. "It's like... it's extracting the magical or medicinal properties and condensing them into pure essence."

  A thought struck him. What about non-plant materials? Would the pool work on other substances?

  He retrieved a small piece of copper wire—another salvaged item from the dumping ground. When he dropped it into the pool, the process took nearly twice as long as the plant materials. The pool bubbled more vigorously, almost agitated, before finally producing results.

  This time, no essence orb appeared. Instead, at the edge of the pool, a small nugget of pure, gleaming copper materialized—all impurities and oxidation removed, leaving only the pristine metal.

  "Whoa," Malcolm breathed. "Complete refinement."

  His mind raced with implications. Traditional alchemical processing at Enshin involved dozens of steps—grinding, soaking, heating, filtering, infusing—all performed with exacting precision and ceremonial flourish. But his pool accomplished the end result in one step, breaking materials down to their purest forms without any of the intermediate stages.

  By the time the evening bell sounded, he had created half a dozen experimental preparations, each stored in a small vial salvaged from the dumping ground. He couldn't fully test their effects without proper equipment, but their visual characteristics and energy signatures suggested promising results.

  Malcolm was packing up his vials when the crunch of footsteps on dry leaves made him freeze. He shoved the vials into his robe, heart pounding, and spun around to face whoever had found his secret spot.

  Sorha Lin stepped around a pile of discarded crates, looking annoyingly unsurprised to find him there.

  "Told you I'd find your little hideout," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in his setup. "Though I wasn't expecting something so... established. You've been busy, Sinclair."

  "Just a little spot to think," Malcolm said casually, wondering how much she had seen. The late afternoon sunlight filtering through the cherry tree branches cast dappled shadows across his workspace, highlighting the orderly arrangement of his salvaged equipment—glassware stacked by size, herbs hung to dry from twine strung between branches, small labeled containers of refined materials.

  "And to experiment," Sorha added, picking up a dried herb stem he'd been preparing for processing. She rubbed it between her fingers, releasing a spicy aroma into the air. "You've been busy."

  "Resource management gives me access to a lot of interesting materials," Malcolm hedged.

  "Materials others deem worthless," Sorha noted. "Yet in your hands, they seem to find new purpose." She fixed him with a penetrating stare. "Like that remarkable remedy you produced in class today."

  Malcolm tensed. "You heard about that?"

  "Word travels quickly when a first-year outperforms third-years at their own specialties." Sorha set down the herb stem. "Lian Koda is not pleased."

  "Yeah, I got that impression," Malcolm sighed. "I wasn't trying to show anyone up."

  "Intent rarely matters as much as results," Sorha said philosophically. "Especially when those results challenge established hierarchies."

  "That's what Mira said too. Apparently efficiency is offensive here."

  Sorha laughed—a sound rarely heard in Enshin's formal environs. "Not offensive, precisely. Threatening. You must understand, in Kagetsu, mastery is measured by one's dedication to established forms. Someone who achieves similar results through different methods upsets the entire system of evaluation."

  "So I'm supposed to do things the hard way just to make everyone else feel better about spending years learning the hard way?"

  "Not at all," Sorha replied with a hint of amusement. "But maybe don't rub their faces in it." She leaned against his table, her posture more relaxed than any Kagetsu student would allow themselves. "Look, back home in Ashkari, we have this saying my mother always used: 'New paths require careful footsteps.' Basically, don't sprint through someone's garden just because you found a shortcut."

  Malcolm considered this. "So I need to be more... strategic about how I use my techniques."

  "Precisely. Especially if those techniques involve that unusual soul space feature you're so carefully avoiding discussing." Her smile made it clear she wasn't fooled by his evasions.

  Malcolm hesitated. Sorha seemed trustworthy, and her perspective as another foreign student could be valuable. But Elder Mozu had advised caution, and Malcolm wasn't ready to reveal everything just yet.

  "I'm still figuring things out," he said finally. "But I appreciate the advice."

  "Fair enough." Sorha straightened. "When you're ready to share more, I may have some Ashkari techniques that would complement your approach. For now, though, you should return to the dormitories. Curfew is in thirty minutes, and you wouldn't want to add rule-breaking to your list of transgressions."

  As they walked back toward the Academy buildings, Malcolm found himself appreciating Sorha's straightforward manner. Unlike the indirect, formal communication style of most Kagetsu students, she spoke directly and pragmatically—a refreshing change.

  "Can I ask you something?" Malcolm said as they approached the main grounds. "How did you adjust to all this?" He gestured at the Academy's imposing structures. "The formality, the traditions, the endless rules."

  Sorha considered this. "I recognized that resistance would only make things harder. Instead, I studied the system itself as diligently as I studied alchemy. Understanding why people value certain approaches makes it easier to navigate their expectations—and to introduce alternatives when the time is right."

  "So basically, play their game until you can change the rules?"

  She smiled. "Something like that. Though I prefer to think of it as building bridges between different ways of thinking."

  They parted at the central courtyard, Sorha heading toward the international students' dormitory while Malcolm made his way to the first-year housing. Her advice echoed in his mind—be strategic, understand the system, recognize the political implications.

  It wasn't how he was used to thinking. In Redoak, results spoke for themselves. But here at Enshin, the path to those results mattered just as much as the destination.

  As he prepared for bed that night, Malcolm carefully stored his experimental vials in a small box beneath his mattress. Tomorrow he would need to develop a convincing demonstration for Master Seiran—something that explained his unusual results without revealing the void pool's true nature.

  He also needed to start considering the practical applications of his abilities more carefully. Creating perfect remedies in class was flashy but risky. Perhaps a more subtle approach would be wiser—using his reclaimed essences to enhance traditional preparations rather than replace them entirely.

  As sleep claimed him, Malcolm's mind continued to race with possibilities. The void pool was more valuable than he had initially realized—not just as a shortcut, but as a way to reclaim what others wasted. If he could refine his techniques and build a proper theoretical framework around them, he might eventually gain acceptance even from traditionalists like Lian Koda.

  But first, he needed to survive Master Seiran's scrutiny without revealing too much.

  One challenge at a time, Malcolm reminded himself as he drifted off to sleep. One challenge at a time.