Basic Thaumaturgy for the Emotional Incompetent [A Magical Academy LitRPG]

"This is the pool," Ganvar said. "Feel your own spark, isolate it as Resolve, and feed it here." She pointed to the center of the ring. "I'll maintain it until you find the current."

He tried. He really tried. He called up the same mental scaffolding: the quiet, gnawing refusal to quit, the weight of every failure, the will to not repeat them. Resolve flickered inside him like a thread pulled taut. The emotion was there. The quartz even warmed in his lap.

But when he tried to send it—when he tried to reach across that invisible gap into the shared pool—it all turned vague and muddy.

"Where is the pool exactly?" he asked, squinting at the space between them.

"I've given you the approximate location," Ganvar's eyes didn't waver. "You're not looking for a place. You're looking for pressure. You feel where your emotion would land if it left you. Aim it there."

"I'm trying," he said through his teeth. "It's just . . . it's like I'm throwing fog at fog."

Liene, lounging nearby with a berry in her mouth, offered unhelpfully, "Imagine it like a faucet. Not a hose."

Ganvar took a step forward. "Watch me." She closed her eyes. The spark of Resolve around her pulsed, steady and brilliant. Then, like liquid into a bowl, the sparks slid into the central glyph, where it shimmered gold-white.

"You see that?" she asked.

"Yes," Fabrisse whispered, watching the center glow. "But how did you—"

"Because I've practiced. You haven't." She opened her eyes again. "Now don't try to replicate the glow. That's just a byproduct. Contribute your emotion to where mine went. Think of it like—"

He was already trying, but her instructions just didn't make any sense. The emotion sparked inside him again, and ivory sparks formed inside his palm. He directed it toward the space she indicated. He even swung his arms toward that direction.

Ganvar gave a short, dry breath. "You're treating this like a math problem. It's not. It's more like singing in tune with someone else's note."

Liene hummed off-key just to prove a point.

Then, his sparks fizzled. He'd hit his limit.

"Well, we'll get it right next time." Liene tapped him on the shoulder before turning toward the space where Ganvar's pool was supposed to be. She stared at it in awe. "Teach, how are you able to sustain your aether pool for so long. I can only sustain a Harmonization pool for 30 seconds max. You must have really good emotional control and resonance!"

"To understand your own emotions, you need to know how others feel. Same goes with resonance. I train in different affinities and emotion ranges to understand the best practices. Some affinities, like Energy, have very efficient aetheric output which allows them to maintain the spells for over long duration. I picked up a few tricks from their casting process."

"But wouldn't that mean breaking from the Synod-approved methods?"

"Oftentimes, yes. But they've already allowed us to change the mnemonics how we see fit. I don't see why we couldn't borrow techniques from different elements if it means optimizing our spells. Acing tests is one thing. Efficient casting is another."

"Then you must know techniques from so many different elements! Can you teach me some?" Liene clasped her hands.

"If you compensate me for my time." Ganvar finally checked the time dial clipped to her sleeve.

Liene's eyes lit up. "Oh, oh! Can you show me an Energy spell you've adapted?"

Ganvar smiled faintly. "Okay."

She raised a hand and traced a sharp arc in the air. Light fractured in a lattice pattern, condensing into a needle-thin bolt of energy that crackled with bright yellow filaments. With a jab, she loosed it into the empty space—it danced in a zigzag before vanishing in a pop of ozone.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Fabrisse winced even before the flash. His hand was already halfway up, fingers splaying instinctively to shield his eyes. The bright light left threads behind his vision, too sharp, too sudden. He turned to the side, blinking rapidly.

Liene clapped. "That was so cool! It looked like a lightning sketch! Can we see something harder? Show me another element—any element!"

Liene is really like a child when she gets to see something new and shiny, Fabrisse thought.

Ganvar didn't answer. Instead, she brought her hands together and turned her wrists in a slow, spiraling gesture. Fire shimmered to life across her palms, tightly wound into a flickering helix. Water rose to meet it, not dousing the flame, but weaving through it like molten glass. Air folded in next, curling around the core in steady, rhythmic pulses. Finally, threads of dust and mineral lifting drew themselves to the motion like filings to a magnet.

The swirling core twisted into a smooth, translucent form—neither fire nor ice, neither wind nor stone.

"This makes a great bomb when you detonate it," she said.

"T-that's so cool! Is that . . . flux?" Liene couldn't peel her eyes away from the core.

Flux was the only quadbryd element in recorded Thaumaturgy, only accessible through complete resonance with the primaries, which meant it was never worth it to train with unlocking Flux in mind. And she even mastered Earth deeply enough to reach that? How much time did she spend on affinities?

In nine years, he couldn't reach an acceptable affinity familiarity with a second basic element, let alone four. Most of his peers could also only specialize in one or two elements.

So that must be the difference between a bottom-tier student and a High Distinction one. Or maybe she just has unlimited time.

She checked the time dial again, then stood with the finality of a dismissal. "That's enough for today," she said, brushing nonexistent dust from her layered robes. "Kestovar. You're hitting a ceiling. Sustained shame is possible, but not sustainable. You'll make better progress if your nervous system doesn't give out during resonance."

Fabrisse exhaled. His hands were still trembling, though he tried to hide it as he tucked the rock carefully back into its pouch.

Ganvar sighed one last time. She stayed quiet for a second, then said, "Maybe the wording I've used was wrong. Don't guide. Just contribute your emotion. That's what Harmonize is supposed to be."

That still didn't make a lot of sense to him.

"Oh well. We'll nail it next time," Liene stretched her arms overhead like she'd just wrapped up a leisurely nap. "Dinner?" she asked, already turning toward the courtyard stairs. "I'm in a toasted mood today. Maybe that sandwich stall near the Gate Square?"

"I'll catch up," Fabrisse said quickly, not quite meeting her eyes. "Go ahead first?"

Liene raised an eyebrow. "Don't make me regret letting you order second again."

He waved her off with a tight smile. Once she was out of earshot, he turned back to Ganvar, who was re-tying the flap of her long sleeve.

He'd had a question in his head since the beginning of the session. A few questions about Rimmar, who was possibly related to her. If he was subtle enough, he could just pass it off as casual conversation.

He hesitated for a full two seconds longer than necessary, then very casually asked, "Surely you have seen forbidden magic in your life! Have you ever worked with, uh . . . Darkness spells?"

Ganvar squinted at him like the sun was shining directly at her face. "Is that because of the way I look, or because of my brother?"

Fabrisse nearly choked. "What—no—I just—"

She glanced at him sidelong. "Don't panic. I'm used to it."

"I wasn't—I mean, I wasn't trying to stereotype or anything—"

Ganvar folded the final strap of her cloth pouch and turned to face him fully. Her voice, when it came, was cool but without malice. "I don't practice that element. It doesn't pair well with emotional alignment spells, and it makes artifact tuning volatile." She paused. "Also, I'm not close to my brother. So I don't know where he learned it. Or why."

Fabrisse nodded too fast. "Okay. That's—that makes sense."

She narrowed her eyes even more, just enough to make him squirm. "Why are you asking?"

"No reason. Just curious."

Ganvar stared at him one second longer, then slung the pouch over her shoulder. "If it's curiosity, ask the Professors. If it's concern, talk to your mentor. If it's gossip—ask your girlfriend."

"Who's my girlfriend?"

"Aren't you guys dating?"

"I'm dating who . . ."

Ganvar sighed. Then she turned and left.

Fabrisse stood there a beat longer, chewing on the silence.

He didn't realize until he looked down that his fingers were still twitching against the outline of the quartz pouch in his hand.