In the ten minutes of practice and self-reflection—actually, closer to twelve—Det managed to provide everybody in the room other than Neferan and baby-face with their own emotional-support, ink-kitten. Eriba, of course, had the lone turtle, but that only made it seem extra special. As for the two holdouts, they were clearly just Debbie-downers, and said no because they disliked Det for one reason or another.

  Their loss.

  At least during that brief discussion, Det got an idea of what baby-face’s magic was. He could control sand, of all things. It didn’t seem like he could summon it, since he had buckets of the stuff at his desk, and was able to do some things with the sand that required very fine control. It also defied gravity at every turn, and was able to both solidify into walls or floating shields, as well as whip around like a controlled sandblaster.

  Versatile.

  Trium’s magic—another one Det got to see, mainly because it was so dang flashy—was similar in a way. For her, though, instead of manipulating sand, she created prismatic feathers out of thin air. Why feathers? Why prismatic? Det didn’t have the answer to either of those questions, but they were admittedly pretty to watch. And, much like the sand, it looked like Trium could do a lot with them from how easily she controlled them swirling around her. The only question was their durability, but Det would find out sooner or later.

  “Now that you’ve all had time to purposely utilize your magic,” Beauty said. “And briefly get in the way of your instincts activating it for you, it’s time to move on to the next step of this lesson.”

  “Fiiiiiinally,” Beast groaned from the desk, one hand holding her ink-kitten in place on its back, while her other hand playfully batted at its paws.

  As usual, Beauty ignored her antics.

  “The focus of this next step, as well as the remainder of today,” Beauty said. “Will be to begin enhancing one component of your magic. I saw some of you made more progress than others in this aspect already…” he looked at Det. “But each of you has taken your first step. Controlling the amount of energy it takes to activate your magic is where everybody needs to start.

  “Now that you know how it feels to purposely push energy into your magic—without relying on your ReSouled instincts to do it for you—it is time to turn your attention to where you put that magic. Once again using Neferan as an example…”

  The aforementioned cadet didn’t hide his scowl at being the butt of the joke again.

  “… who made some of the fastest progress of anybody in the room in his control of summoning Two near the end of the allotted time…”

  Neferan’s scowl turned to a blush at the praise.

  “… will need to direct his energy toward Two’s eyes during creation. Just so you know, this may sound easy, but it most certainly is not. Even knowing what you need to do, the magic naturally wants to spread evenly. You will not only need to work to prevent that spread, but at the same time concentrate on the magical energy you’re holding in place. Locking it down is only the first challenge, however, with the next step requiring you to engrave that energy into the form of your magic.

  “Consider it like the difference between wood freshly cut from a tree, to wood treated to resist time and weather. Both can be used equally well to build a new deck, but one is more likely than the other to serve the specific purpose of surviving several winters.

  “For this exercise, your energy needs to infuse that small part of your magic, upgrading its density, power, or consistency. You’re looking to meet the saturation point of one section of your resulting magic. Eventually, you will be able to do this to your entire ability, significantly improving both its power and versatility. Then, you’ll learn to do it again. And again. And again. You get the idea. This is one of the best ways to improve the Rank of your magic.

  “And,” Beauty said, looking over the class. “If you think somebody like Cadets Neferan or Det have an advantage because their magic is longer lasting, you are quite wrong. Everybody needs to get this right from the beginning. Just because their magic lingers, that doesn’t mean they can edit it after it fully forms.”

  “And Artillery can do this?” Oligy said. “While creating a fireball, for example?”

  “They can,” Beauty said. “Once you become practiced with the process, you will be able to do it instantly. Even better, learning how to do this will push your magic muscle, allowing it to grow stronger far faster than simply using your magic over and over.”

  “This is the training to be a sprinter, instead of just walking,” Neferan said.

  “Correct, cadet.” Beauty nodded. “For this next part, the first step will be—like I said—to learn how to direct your energy into certain parts of your magic’s form. Some people like to visualize their magic as a geometric pattern, whose form dictates its effect. Others picture a glass they are trying to fill, with the magic activating when the glass is full. A fellow cadet from my time used an equation in his mind, and for this exercise, focused on a single variable.

  “However you see your magic in your head, it has a shape, even if you’ve never realized it. Cadet Neferan’s likely looks like himself, while Det’s takes the form of whatever image he’s painting. For the fireball you mention, Cadet Oligy, it could be that fireball the Artillery envisions, or any of the shapes I suggested before.”

  “Mine is a bowl getting filled up with jellybeans,” Oligy said, face dead-serious.

  “A unique embodiment,” Beauty said without missing a beat. “Whatever form or shape your magic takes in your mind, it is helpful to see your energy funneling into a specific part. Just doing that—filling one part of your magic first—won’t be enough, though. From there, as I said, you need to infuse your energy into that section. You need to hold it there, and push it deeper.”

  “How do we do that, sir?” Neferan asked.

  “For everybody, it is different,” Beauty said. “Most people—Beast and myself included—feel it does indeed involve a push.”

  “Like you’re trying to squeeze that last shirt into the suitcase you refuse to open all the way,” Beast said. “Because you know if you completely open it up again, you’ll never, ever get it closed. Instead, this shirt you love—your favorite ‘damn-I-look-like-a-sexy-ass’ shirt—has to somehow slide through the six inches of zipper you opened up.

  “The whole time, it’ll feel like it should work. But it’ll be hard. The suitcase is full, after all. It’s not meant to take something in like that. The space you’re trying to work with is too small. You’ll need to wiggle it. Massage it till you finally get the tip of it in, then you’ll need to shove with all you got.”

  “Are we still talking about a shirt and a suitcase?” the unnamed cadet behind Eriba quietly asked nobody in particular.

  “As you can imagine,” Beauty took over again. “Beast’s embodiment in her mind is packing for a trip, with the items she puts in her suitcase representing the differing abilities of her magic. While it is true each ReSouled can only have one type of magic, this process is the beginning of how you will increase its versatility.

  “With my magic, my mind sees a score,” he continued. “No, not like a robbery or a heist, but the written version of a composed piece of music. The lines and notes are always there, no matter how I use my magic, but for the different buffs or debuffs I apply, the score is different. I focus on the notes my mind sees to alter the effects. Using that as an example for this process, I have to infuse one individual note without touching any of the others to succeed.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Cadet Oligy will need to infuse a single jellybean,” Beauty said, then paused. “I never thought I would use that combination of words.”

  “My ma says that all the time,” Oligy said. “Both of them, actually.”

  “I bet they do,” Beauty said. “But, I think it’s time to move back to practical applications. Actually trying the process will help you get a feel for it. We will likely be spending the rest of the day on this foundational step, though we will break for lunch.”

  “Will there be finger sandwiches?” Beast asked.

  “Of course there will be,” Beauty said. “In the cafeteria, as usual. Now then, please begin. If you have questions, hold them until after lunch. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you, but you need to have adequate time attempting this before you truly know what you need to ask.”

  “And he wants time to play with his kitty,” Beast said.

  “There is that,” Beauty said, reaching up to scratch the chin on the ink-kitten that’d been perched on his shoulder the whole time.

  Leaving the instructors to their back and forth, Det immediately dove back into his practice. He’d already stumbled on something with the chunky energy he’d accidently pushed into one of his earlier renditions, so could he use that ‘mistake’ to his advantage? Only one way to find out.

  Given that he’d been working with kittens non-stop for the last exercise, it only made sense to continue with them. The image practically materialized on the paper in front of him, his brush strokes moving with such precision and confidence despite their speed. Then, instead of putting his hand on the image and summoning it right there, he put it aside and painted another kitten. Then another.

  Until he had twenty more prepared.

  Somehow, having that many painted created a weird sort of pulling sensation, just above his gut. It wasn’t quite indigestion, but was in around the same place, and was similar to if he’d just run a few laps around the building. Not tiring, exactly. Like he needed to take a deep breath or two, and he’d been fine. Det didn’t feel the same thing from the actual renditions he already had running around the room, just from the paintings they would come from.

  Am I putting some kind of magic into the page right from the beginning?

  He’d noticed it before—it was why he didn’t carry dozens of scrolls with him, aside from the ink cost he couldn’t afford back on Radiant—but it had never been this noticeable. Why did having unused paintings cause more strain than twenty’ish renditions playing around the room?

  Because I already invested the magic energy into them? Since my renditions do run out, like they’re on a timer, that’s got to be connected to the finite amount of energy I impart to each of them. Does that mean there would be a way to make them last longer by giving them more energy? Probably.

  While it was something he could work on now, it wasn’t actually the task Beauty had given them. He’d ask the instructors about the possibility after lunch, when they were allowed to ask, and would focus on the lesson at hand. Enhancing one part of his renditions.

  Leaving his stack of prepared images at twenty—he could probably go further, but that would be a test for another time—he pulled one in front of himself, and put his fingers on it. For the third kitten he’d summoned, he’d flooded it with a hose of power that had had… interesting results. That style lacked any sort of control, and it couldn’t be his end goal. As a starting point, though, there could be something there.

  Or, more specifically, in the gel-like version of the energy he’d felt going into his rendition. Could he change the consistency of the energy leaving his body and entering the painting? Time to find out! Eyes closed like they had been for the last twenty attempts, Det spurted energy out of his fingertips and into the painting. While his mind envisioned it to be something akin to a sprinkler, firing off a consistent, repeated pattern of energy, it turned out more like the time his first real girlfriend had touched him.

  Embarrassing.

  The release of energy was wild, uncontrolled, and generally left him unsatisfied. At least, like the first time, it taught him something. Even with trying to control the flow of the energy, it hadn’t changed the consistency at all. Instead, it had the same result as throwing buckets of water into a pool. The volume came a bit at a time, but spread out evenly as soon as it arrived.

  The magical energy Det released into the image spread through the ink, but didn’t stick in any of the sections he focused on. All in all, it took the usual two seconds for him to fill the rendition, and for it to step off the page.

  “Huh,” he mumbled to himself as he opened his eyes and looked at the newest kitten. Same as normal. Unlike that fourth one he’d made—the one he tried to speed up by throwing as much energy at it as he could—it didn’t have the shimmer between the lines indicating he’d used too much magic. The energy had come in bits and pieces, but at least he’d controlled the overall volume to match what he normally used.

  I guess that’s a win?

  “Just sit there and let me know if you spot anything that’ll help, yeah?” Det said quietly to the kitten, who moved over to the side of the desk and plopped down with a cute nya.

  With his new assistant in place, Det moved on to his second painting. This one, he didn’t try to force chunks of energy into place, and instead focused on feeling the consistency of how his energy moved. Something he worked on for the next nineteen renditions.

  Could he move it slower or faster? How did that impact how the energy moved? How did it change—or could it change—where the energy naturally went?

  His answer? The speed of the energy flow didn’t do anything to alter the consistency. All he got were twenty new ink-kittens taking up space on his desk.

  “You weren’t much of a help, were you?” Det said to the first one still sitting in its spot on the corner, the rest of its ‘litter’ rolling and playing beside it.

  Nya, the kitten said, then walked over and headbutted Det in the palm of his hand.

  “You want attention?” Det said, reaching out to scratch its head while his other hand painted a few more kittens. What the hell was he going to do with all of them? His desk was starting to get crowded. Maybe he should…

  “Ow!” he hissed, and jerked back his hand where the little kitten had stuck its sharp claw into his palm. “What was that for?”

  Nya.

  The kitten held out its paw in Det’s hand’s direction, and he eyed it warily. Did it just want to stab him again? Was it angry he had given it a job, while the others got to playfight the entire time? Or, was it just a vindictive little bastard?

  Nya, it said again, gently swinging its paw in his hand’s direction. It really wanted something.

  “Better not scratch me again,” Det warned it, then carefully lowered his hand so it was within reach. As soon as his hand was in front of the kitten, it reached out its paw to place it on his palm. Then, the kitten looked up at Det.

  Nya, it said, like that explained everything.

  “What?” Det said.

  Nya. The paw lifted and set down again on his palm.

  “Okaaaaaay…” Det said. “Do you want more scratchies?”

  Nya. Paw on his palm.

  “Not scratchies, then,” Det said. “So, what are you…?”

  Det stopped. He’d given the kitten a job. Even if he’d been half-sarcastic about the request, the kitten had still taken it seriously. Just sit there and let me know if you spot anything that’ll help, he’d told it. That was exactly what it was trying to do now. It’d had spotted something helpful. Just, what was it?

  Something on Det’s hand? No… something in his hand. In his palm, specifically. The node where his energy gathered. He’d been so focused on how the energy moved down his fingers, but maybe that was the problem the whole time.

  He’d been trying to change the consistency of the energy as it left his fingers. What if he played with it before it even entered them?

  “Thanks, little guy,” Det said.

  Nya, the kitten said once more before it vanished, its job done.

  Like always, when the rendition faded, there wasn’t a trace of the ink left behind. Just an empty space where the kitten had been. From the side of the desk, the litter of other kittens let out of chorus of nyas in recognitions of their brother’s passing, then went back to playing.

  As for Det, he lifted his hand to stare at his palm, more energy already gathering there. There was that tingle again, from the energy sitting and swirling within. It was almost like a whirlpool, spinning round and round, while it waited for him to give it purpose.

  Purpose.

  He looked to where the kitten had vanished.

  Intent? Could it be that simple? The same way I give my renditions their purposes?

  Focusing on why he wanted the energy to be different instead of how he wanted it to be different produced an immediate response. The whirlpool of energy grew thicker, though it didn’t slow. His ReSouled body’s instinct was helping kick in to make the process easier. Then and there, he could probably move the energy into the rendition, and achieve the result he wanted.

  Then he’d be relying on his body again, instead of understanding how it worked. That wasn’t Det. He’d become a mechanic—and taken an entire engineering degree—because he was constantly taking things apart so he could understand them. Well, the education and job were mainly so he could put those things back together again, but… details!

  Knowing how and why his body was doing that with the energy would definitely help him make better use of the energy later. Hell, the whole purpose of this lesson was to move away from relying on the ReSouled instincts for magic to increase his strength. This was just one more thing for him to learn.

  Opening and closing his free hand, Det put down his brush, then held that hand up beside the first. In the left, he had the thicker energy. In the right, his normal energy. The difference between them was stark, now that he was looking.

  Why?