Bella Coren wiggled her fingers, and the crystal ball gently floated back to its place. "For sorceresses like us, magical responses often outpace our own instincts," she murmured. "Looks like your eyebrows are growing back?"

  Erica flinched when the Vice Principal suddenly leaned in, instinctively tilting her head backward. "Yeah, they're growing back since I used the potion."

  "Hmm... hmm..." The Vice Principal frowned, her hands searching across the desktop. "Oh, that's why something felt weird..." She donned an ancient pair of round spectacles. Despite centuries of refinement, these reading devices—invented by the scholarly elves of Illuviλofer—remained rather unwieldy. "That's much better." Bella settled back into her chair. "While your initial recovery looks promising, you mustn't grow complacent. You need to understand—two rings, especially an Elderwood Ring, contain vast reservoirs of magical energy. And you, my dear, released all that power in a single moment. It's fortunate you're so tall," the Vice Principal added with a grandmotherly smile, "or your pretty brown hair would have been toast."

  Erica looked ashamed but maintained eye contact. "On the brighter side, my stew received high praise. Could you share any insights about what made it special?"

  The girl nodded eagerly. "For the ingredients, the sea cucumber needs proper marination first..." Bella Coren chuckled. "You really spill the beans when someone asks, huh?" Resting her chin on her palm, she spoke with gravity: "Women are full of secrets, especially us mages. Being too open will get you in trouble."

  "But I've nothing to hide from you, Lady Coren," Erica replied earnestly.

  "Never be completely transparent with anyone—not even those dearest to you." Seeing the contemplative expression settling on the girl's face, the Vice Principal continued, "Remember to continue your treatment. Alternate between Morn Salve and Cazessia's Tears. By the way," she peered into Erica's small eyes, "Did you just come here to wake me up?"

  "What? No! I'd never do such a thing," Erica protested. "Actually, the Headmaster requested your presence."

  "The Headmaster? At this hour?" Bella patted her stomach. "Poor me, I haven't even had my lunch."

  Erica smiled knowingly. "The Headmaster anticipated you'd miss lunch, so he's arranged to dine with you."

  (He's never extended such an invitation to me before,) Bella thought privately. "How considerate of him," she said aloud, pushing herself up from the chair. "Where shall I find him? His office?"

  The girl nodded in confirmation. "Thank you, Erica. Now hurry along to lunch—those younger students have no concept of respect."

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  Bella Coren glided from the office like a passing breeze. The girl meant to follow but noticed the quill Bella had knocked to the floor. She picked it up and returned it to the desk.

  It was lunchtime, and students cascaded down the stairways in chattering clusters. Most discussed their midday meal preferences, what they'd eaten yesterday, and some could even recite the entire week's menu from memory. Other girls analyzed the spells demonstrated in class—anything with offensive capability became potential ammunition against rivals. Inevitably, these conversations would drift toward the subject of boys—Saint Asini Magic Academy had precious few male students. In truth, all magical institutions skewed overwhelmingly female. "It's not their fault," Bella had once explained to Patrick. "Males possess inherently weaker magical aptitude from birth. Their capacity to draw from magical wellsprings and their precision in spellcasting both fall short of what sorceresses achieve naturally. This represents the greatest divine gift bestowed upon womankind—a truth acknowledged even by the most venerated elven sages. However," she had added, "exceptions to this rule do exist. You exemplify this perfectly. Even compared to our most gifted female students, your talent remains extraordinary."

  The Headmaster's office occupied the summit of the central tower, a structure half the height of the Spiral Lance Towers and of relatively recent construction. This placement was chosen by Headmaster Patrick Fort himself. Previously, both the Headmaster's chambers and the Doranar Dean's office had been situated atop the East Tower—the Doranar Tower. This spire and its western counterpart—the Moslander Tower, collectively known as the Spiral Lance Towers—were the second tallest structures in all Cynthia. The original Headmaster and Dean of Saint Asini, Doranar, had deliberately positioned his workplace at such dizzying heights to minimize student interruptions. "Meditating. Bother your teachers. Thanks," read the prominent sign he had posted outside his sanctum—a soul-crushing sight for any student who had just conquered nearly three hundred steps.

  "Thanks for that, Patrick," Bella Coren muttered, massaging her lower back while knocking on the thick pine door. "Enter," came a gentle voice from within.

  The Vice Principal pushed open the door and adjusted her spectacles. "I can't see you, Patrick. If you're practicing invisibility, I suggest you materialize immediately. Otherwise, I'll assume you've been crushed beneath an avalanche of literature."

  "To dissolve into the currents of knowledge would be a blessed fate indeed." Several books slid from the Headmaster's desk, where stacks of tomes and documents had completely obscured the furniture itself. "Please help me organize these volumes," pleaded a voice from within the literary fortress, sounding remarkably like someone suffocating. "Would you like them categorized?" she inquired, eyeing the two massive arched bookshelves lining the walls. Two more books tumbled to the floor.

  Bella sighed in resignation before raising her left hand to cast. The books slowly levitated from the ground, their varied shapes and colorful bindings resembling butterflies dancing through a meadow. With a sweeping motion of her right arm, the books realigned themselves and filed neatly back onto the shelves. "There's no way to sort them. You'll just throw them on the floor again anyway." the Vice Principal said irritably.

  As the books cleared away, the Headmaster's figure finally emerged from hiding. His unruly brown curls and brilliant azure eyes—unmarred by glasses—lent him a youthful appearance. Patrick Fort's slender frame and delicate features often earned him descriptions of possessing feminine beauty rather than masculine ruggedness. "You make a valid point, Bella. The ocean of knowledge is boundless, and books are merely oars—they function best when employed in harmony."