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“Who?”
“Aidric Dawson, as in heir to the Dawson fortune.”
Mira had heard of the name. Son of Arthur Dawson, who was a top financier in the war and currently serving a life sentence in Shadowcrest Prison.
“Where?” the brunette girl with perfectly defined curls asked.
“Over by that window.” The other pointed, and when Mira spotted the tall Wielder with silver-white hair, her breath caught. He was a student? And the son of Arthur Dawson? He looked nothing like his father, who had dark hair and a roundish face.
“Good morning,” Highmage Obryn’s sharp voice cut through the chatter. “Everyone in this room came to Ivercrest with a different set of signifiers. Perhaps you have all five or only a few. What combat class teaches you is how to make use of the signifiers you have. How to harness their powers. How to balance them. Signifier class will teach you how to gain more. What do the five signifiers stand for? Miss Winters.”
It was an easy question. Something she had learned in her first magic classes about Wielders. Now, she was one.
Mira cleared her throat, feeling the eyes of the other students on her. “Pain, sin, spirits, control, and internum. Which order a Wielder receives their signifiers in varies, but the first one is always control.”
She could go on about each signifier. The seven deadly sins were a powerful tool in enhancing spells but depending on the Wielder and their most pronounced sin, one of them would be more powerful in informing their magic. If not balanced correctly, it could overpower them.
Or she could talk about how Wielders didn’t get assigned the same spirit. It depended on their personality, and spirits should only be called upon in rare circumstances.
Pain could be caused by nothing more than a Wielder’s look.
With the internum signifier, Wielders were able to destroy internal organs of their opponents and combust blood vessels.
Every signifier was dependent on the Wielder’s magic and personality.
But she didn’t have to go into the details because the question was rhetorical. Everyone in this room knew about signifiers. She ventured a guess that this was a test specifically for the Caster who wasn’t supposed to be in this class.
“Correct,” the Highmage responded. “The first signifier is the most important one since it allows us to harness and control the Shadowflame. Do not think that because you have a certain number of signifiers you have mastered your craft. Ivercrest will teach you how to utilize your power. For the first training session, I want you to divide into groups of the same number of signifiers.”
As everyone began to move, Mira stood still, hoping students around her would simply forget she existed.
She stared at her Shadowflame, feeling sick at the thought of having to use Dark Magic and suddenly lost in memories. Four years ago, she walked into the healing clinic where her parents worked. The moment she opened the doors, she knew something was terribly wrong. An eerie silence hung in the air.
On the way up the stairs, she passed bodies with black liquid seeping from their eyes, ears, and noses. Synth. A weapon used by Primemage Mercer, whose rapid ascent to power had been opposed by only few—including her parents. Synth worked fast, eradicating a person’s magic instantly. Deadly and incurable, it had been developed by Mercer’s chief poison master, Rakkley. Its Dark Magic content was so strong, victims were even poisonous to touch.
Mira had known that and yet…when she saw her mother, coughing up black liquid, she ran over to her. Her mother shook her head.
“Don’t—” was her last word before her eyes went vacant.
Mira knew not to touch a victim of Synth, but this was her mother, and when Mira’s left hand reached for her, black liquid leapt at her, burning its way up her arm—
“Miss Winters.” Highmage Obryn’s sharp voice shook her back to the present. “You’re my first student without a single signifier.”
She released her right hand, which was wrapped tightly around her scar. “Yes, well, I think I’m excelling in the category of being the odd one out.”
He didn’t return her smile and instead viewed her with a mixture of disinterest and disdain. The most experienced Highmage of Dark Magic had to train a Caster. Surely a revolting prospect for him. If it was any consolation, it was the last thing she wanted to do as well.
“Let’s start with the basics and go from there.”
She didn’t need to know the basics. She would never use Dark Magic. Wielders trained to fight demons or become council defenders, and she didn’t plan on doing either. Perhaps she could train on her own?
Her mouth opened but the words got caught in her throat when Obryn called on the decidedly worst training partner.
“Since Mr. Dawson is one of only a few students with five signifiers, I believe it beneficial for him to revisit the rudimentary basics with you,” Obryn explained.
Dawson walked over with a swagger in his step.
“Please train her on basic control spells,” Obryn instructed.
