Radiance - The Alight Archives Book #1

61. Unbudded Petals

Allan cringed as he materialized from the sharp glow of the warp circle. The shrill contrast between clogged academy halls and the vast openness of the peak above the forest felt to him like he'd been slapped across the face by nature itself. Violent winds collided with him, causing his long hair to flicker behind his head, as did the tails of his coat.

Despite being raised in the countryside, he always detested how obnoxiously unpredictable the world's natural forces were. This was part of the reason he sought to practice magic in the first place, the mystic art that allowed him to bend the laws of reality to his authority. What could compete with power such as that? Sorcerers really were different beasts; normal humans should not have been blessed with the Gift.

Shielding his scowling expression with an arm, Allan managed to take that first step towards the giant oaf, standing straight with his hands placed on his hips at the cliff's ledge. Despite how high up they both were, Allan couldn't sense the sun's beams on his skin, as its distant yet intense rays were buffeted by flurries of flower-scented winds that swirled into and around him. Allan sniffed his aggravated nose but continued nonetheless.

"Oh? What's this? The Abyssal Sorcerer has come out of his shadow for a change?" Jared said jokingly, wide teeth shining inside of his enormous smile. Just what did the sulmo's parents feed him when he was a child to grow so large? Honestly, Jared could probably beat a bear without magic and barehandedly.

Allan sniffed again. This time, there was an irritating sting in his nostrils. "Yeah, well, I had some time to kill. Figured I'd see how my homeroom brats are coming along."

"Those little implings?" Jared snickered with closed eyes. "The exam has only just begun, so not much has happened yet. But some of 'em are closing in on one another! I know a confrontation is bound to happen any minute now, just you wait!" Jared clenched an enormous fist in front of him. "There's bad blood between a griffin and a sparrow, no matter what form they take. And all of that turmoil will give route to some healthy dueling! Oh, I live for this kind of stuff!"

"Clearly," Allan sighed, stopping next to the child trapped in a grown man's body and only a few inches from where cragged rock met the emptiness of air. Through a leer, Allan took in the sight of an eternal ocean of blue and green, coagulating together to form the ceiling of a forest that history was forced to leave alone. Puffy clouds soared above them—carried by the howling eastern winds—and cast their shattered shadows onto them, scrolling over cracked earth and sponging them inside their darkness.

Given how dense the Glyph Forest canopy was, Allan couldn't spot any of them, but if he closed his eyes and concentrated, letting his Magic Sense do the "seeing" for him, all became clear underneath his sheathed vision. They popped into existence in his mind, one after the other, mere seconds separating their manifestation, and when Allan opened his eyes again, their Essence Signatures visualized as flickering, turquoise flames amidst the greenery, small yet strong torches dancing to winds from another realm.

The fiery tongues danced in a scattered pattern, encircling the immediate vicinity of the forest as he fixed his gaze straight ahead. The flames at the periphery prompted him to subtly shift his head left or right, yet he could discern each and every one of them. His students.

Now, Jared Knight wasn't a simpleton, no matter how desperately he'd have you believe it. In fact, as far as Allan was concerned, he was one of the strongest sorcerers in Incante. Get the man angry, and nothing in the Eternal Gardens or the Shadow could end his wrath. It was why Allan tolerated his annoyances; best to keep him in a good mood lest he run the risk of crossing wand to wand with him.

On the other hand, his Magic Sense left a lot to be desired. Even among their fellow professors—and even some of the Gray Cloak staff—Jared couldn't so much as detect the Signature of a newt scurrying in the mud, let alone an entire class of novices. Squinting, Allan tilted his gaze up at the wall of twenty-three magiscreens hovering seven meters over their heads, one for each of his students.