Divine Magus: Awakening

Even more time has passed in the academy, and Logan had done a lot in the second year. Even at the moment, he was in a class.

He was in his Body Enchantment class, improving his skills and starting a new part of his lesson.

The room smelled faintly of scorched leather and damp stone.

It was a scent that had long since sunk into the walls, the ceiling, and the very grain of the wooden benches.

No matter how many windows Mr. Joe opened, the air never truly cleared.

Even on those rare days when the wind outside came in sharp and fresh, the moment Logan stepped inside, that heavy mix of smoke and earth closed around him again.

The scent was the mark of years of work. Heated rune metal.

The musk of beasts was brought in for testing. The charred remains of failed enchantments, each one burned into memory and stone alike.

It was quiet here.

Always quiet.

There were no other voices to fill the space. No shuffle of books or chairs from other students.

No low murmurs of classmates trying to solve a problem without drawing the teacher's attention.

The only sounds belonged to the low hum of the enchantment circles etched into the floor and the faint, steady crackle of the oil lamps that clung to their wall brackets.

This was the only class where Logan worked alone.

He had long since accepted that he was the only student.

In front of him sat a small glass tank. Its surface was slightly smudged from past lessons, but inside it was clean.

A single lizard crouched at the bottom, its small body still.

Under the lamplight, its scales reflected in a muted shimmer, but what drew the eye more than the creature itself were the patterns carved into it.

Faint grey lines traced across its body in thin, deliberate pathways.

The design was symmetrical yet intricate, winding over its legs, curling around its torso, and running up the ridge of its spine.

Along these lines, almost hidden unless the light caught them just right, were runes so tiny they could be mistaken for the natural grain of the scales.

Those lines were dormant now. Waiting.

Logan leaned forward, elbows just barely resting on the edge of the table.

His hands hovered over the tank, fingers flexing slowly, loosening their stiffness. His breathing was steady, his focus unbroken.

He could feel the world's core in his legs.

They pulsed faintly in a rhythm only he seemed aware of. A slow, deliberate beat like the heartbeat of the earth itself. The presence was subtle but constant.

Logan reached inward.

The energy was reluctant at first, the way it always was. Drawing it felt like pulling water from a deep, narrow well, the kind that made the rope creak with the strain.

A faint tingling spread up his calves, winding through his thighs as the cores stirred.

The quiet hum of the enchantment circles seemed to deepen in response.

He shaped the current in his mind the way Mr. Joe had taught him. Slow. Measured. Never rushing.

If the energy surged too quickly, the runes would misalign. If it weakened even for a moment, the enchantment would sputter out before it could complete.

A thin stream of energy left him, invisible yet tangible, like heat radiating from sun-warmed stone. The threads reached the lizard, sinking into the carved lines without resistance.

The reaction came immediately.

The first segment of the pattern lit with a faint silver glow.

The second followed, then the third, each lighting in perfect sequence as though fuses were catching flame one by one.

The runes embedded within the lines filled with a light so fine it was almost painful to look at directly.

The lizard twitched.

Its claws scraped against the smooth glass bottom of the tank. Its small body stiffened, tail curling tightly.

The light concentrated along its back. Then the pathways shifted, redirecting the flow of energy toward the creature's shoulders. The glow built until it broke outward in a sudden ripple.

Thin, leathery wings unfurled from the lizard's sides.

The membrane was nearly black, stretched between delicate bones that caught the lamplight in faint reflections.

The veins were visible beneath the thin skin, dark lines within the darkness.

The wings moved once, awkwardly, as though the creature was unsure they belonged to it. Then again, with more certainty. The third beat lifted it from the floor of the tank.

It rose into the air, wings stuttering but functional. The flight was uneven, its path jerking slightly from side to side, yet it remained aloft.

Logan's focus sharpened. He held the current steady, keeping the energy balanced and the activation alive. His legs burned faintly where the cores worked, but he ignored the discomfort.

The lizard made a slow, unsteady turn over the workbench, the faint sound of its wings like the rustle of dry parchment.

Then the glow began to fade.

The black membranes thinned, curling away into mist before disappearing entirely. The fine bones dissolved a moment later.

The carved pathways lost their light until only the dull grey etchings remained.

The lizard dropped back to the table with a soft thump, claws skittering briefly before it regained its footing.

Logan let the energy cease. The pull in his legs receded, leaving a faint tingling behind. His shoulders eased, and he released his breath slowly through his nose.

From the back of the room, Mr. Joe stepped away from the wall where he had been standing in silence.

His arms were crossed, the lines in his weathered face deepening slightly as he tilted his head.

"Better," he said.

The word was plain, but in Mr. Joe's tone, it carried weight.

"Your control's tighter. You are not bleeding energy like before. The activation held steady for the entire sequence."

Logan gave a short nod. Praise from Mr. Joe was rare enough that it was better not to disturb it with unnecessary talk.

The older man stepped closer, his boots making a faint sound on the stone floor. He leaned over the workbench, eyes scanning the lizard that now sat still in its glass container.

"Three months ago, you could not align the runes without scorching the beast's flesh.

Your pathways collapsed before you finished the sequence. Now…" He straightened, meeting Logan's gaze briefly. "Now you execute with precision. This is the kind of improvement most need a year for."

Logan's eyes flicked to the lizard's tail, which twitched once before settling. "I just kept practicing."

Mr. Joe gave a dry chuckle, though it was more the sound of stone scraping against stone than anything warm.

"Plenty of practice and never improving. This means you have stopped fighting the flow and started working with it. Your cores may not be in the standard place, but you adapted. That is the mark of someone worth teaching."

Logan did not reply.

Instead, he reached for the tools on his bench. A small silver needle for fine rune work.

A piece of binding chalk worn to a stub. A thin, leather-bound notebook where every pattern, success, and failure was recorded with neat precision.

He closed the tank and slid it back to the shelf where other creatures rested in their own containment.

The lizard blinked at him, its black eyes seeming to hold something almost like accusation, though Logan ignored it.

Mr. Joe checked the clock mounted above the door. "That will do for today."

Logan packed with the same methodical care he always used. Tools went into fitted slots. The notebook was tied shut with a strip of black cord. The bag went over his shoulder in one smooth movement.

"You have the break starting tomorrow," Mr. Joe said. His voice was quieter now. "Do not let the time make you sloppy."

"I will not," Logan replied. His voice was even, but there was no doubt in it.

Mr. Joe gave a single nod. "Good. Go on."

Logan dipped his head once, stepped toward the door, and left the room.

The scent of scorched leather and damp stone faded behind him, replaced by the cooler air of the academy's main corridor.

The hallway stretched long and empty ahead of him. Tall windows lined one side, letting in the gold light of the late afternoon. Dust drifted lazily in the air, unmoved by wind or breath. His footsteps rang softly against the smooth stone floor.

Most classes were over for the day.

The academy had already settled into its evening quiet.

Tomorrow would mark the start of the mid-year break.

Author Note: Unfortunately I have something urgent coming up and will be unable to update this book for the time being. In fact, I feel like this book is a flop at the moment.

I've started another book if you'd still like to read my works. "Beyond the Crimson Gate" is the book title. I hope you read it and immerse yourself in Kale's journey.