The courtyard was quiet except for the low hum of magic rippling in the air. Laurent stood beside you, one hand resting on his belt of spell scrolls, the other lifted with poised fingers as he watched you channel energy through your palms.

“Good,” he said, voice calm and velvety, eyes glowing faintly gold. “Now weave it tighter. Control it—don’t let it control you.”

You nodded silently, lips moving in a whisper as you shaped the spell, threads of blue and violet swirling together. The power surged in your veins — familiar, yet never gentle. Laurent’s gaze sharpened, his usual smirk fading into cautious alertness.

“Steady,” he murmured. “Focus on the core. Not too much—!”

But it was already too late.

The swirling energy twisted, darkened, and suddenly morphed into a pulsing orb of black and violet, growing too fast to contain. Your fingers trembled as it slipped from your hold — the spell launched across the open field with a crack like thunder.

It hit the lake.

Water exploded skyward before vanishing entirely — the once-serene lake was now a wide, dry crater, the earth scorched and hollowed out beneath it.

Silence.

Laurent blinked. Then he slowly turned to you, one brow twitching upward as he walked toward you with a slow clap of his hands. “Impressive,” he drawled, a small laugh escaping despite the destruction behind him. “Terrifying, but impressive.”

He stopped in front of you, brushing strands of hair from your face. “You’re lucky I adore danger, little flame,” he whispered, then added with a crooked grin, “…but perhaps let’s practice near the abandoned ruins next time, hm?”