"Don't let her sit back, go after her! Pressure the summoner, Fin, pressure the summoner!"

Fin did his best to tune out Henrik's enthusiastic, if unhelpful, coaching from the sidelines. He pivoted on his heel, the sleek, skin-tight armor of his Lightning Armament shimmering as he dodged a crushing blow from an inky black golem. The creature was a masterpiece of Freya's unique magic, its form constantly shifting, making it a difficult target to read. It swung its other massive fist, but Fin was already in motion, dashing not away from the hulking construct, but directly towards its master.

It had been a few weeks since Kellan's friends had decided to "observe" his training, a term that had quickly evolved into full-participation spars. Every session was a chaotic, exhilarating lesson in teamwork and adaptation. He still couldn't quite figure out the mechanics of Freya's affinity, how she could literally pull her intricate tattoos from her skin and give them life, but the results were undeniable. Her summons were all powerful, easily at the high end of Tier Two, just like the rest of Kellan's formidable party.

Freya backpedaled, her movements nimble and sure-footed, her hands already reaching for a new tattoo on her shoulder. "Don't think it's that easy, Fin!" she shouted, a grin on her face. With a flourish, she pulled a screeching hawk from her skin. The ink-bird took flight, its cry echoing in the vast chamber as it pelted him with a volley of sharp, semi-solid ink projectiles that whistled through the air like shrapnel.

The barrage hammered against Fin's lightning armor, each impact a dull thud of absorbed kinetic energy. His forward momentum slowed just enough for the ping in his Electromagnetic Synchronization to scream a warning. The golem had closed the distance.

Thinking fast, Fin abandoned his direct charge. He let his Lightning Armament flow, manifesting a long, crackling chain of pure energy from his gauntlet. He whipped it out, not at Freya, but at the golem, wrapping it securely around the creature's thick, ink-black arm. As the golem began its next powerful swing, Fin planted his feet, bent his knees, and used the construct's own momentum to fling himself into the air.

He soared in a wide arc over the battlefield, a living catapult. At the apex of his jump, he focused his will, pulling on the knowledge he'd gained from his duel with Kellan. He manifested a new dagger, but as it formed, he performed a delicate and dangerous piece of magical surgery, creating a miniature Plasma Compression Core, no larger than a grain of rice, and embedding it deep within the blade's heart.

"Catch!" he yelled.

He threw the dagger. Freya, seeing the projectile, dodged with an easy, contemptuous sidestep. The blade sailed harmlessly past her. But the dagger itself was never the true attack.

Now.

Fin willed the tiny core to detonate. A silent, concussive blast of plasma erupted from the dagger, not a fireball, but a pure wave of force. It slammed into Freya, sending the agile girl tumbling head over heels to the ground. Her concentration shattered, and both the golem and the hawk dissolved into black, watery ink that flowed back towards her, sinking into her skin and reforming their intricate patterns.

"Winner, Fin," Nikole announced from the side, her voice calm as ever. She was already rushing to her friend's side to check for injuries. "Are you alright, Freya?"

Freya rolled over with a wide, breathless smile on her face, pushing herself up on her elbows. "Yeah… damn. He caught me completely off guard." She pushed herself the rest of the way up, dusting off her training gear. "Whatever little trick you put inside that dagger sure does pack a punch."

Henrik walked up behind Fin and clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Yeah, tell me about it. The first time he hit one of my Stasis Fields with that thing, I seriously thought I was taking a full-powered punch from Instructor Gavric."

Fin grimaced at the memory. Their first duel, just a week ago. Henrik, with his characteristic bravado, had told him not to hold back. Fin, eager to test his limits, had complied, hitting Henrik's defensive field with a fully charged plasma core. He'd realized his mistake when the resulting explosion had bypassed the field's kinetic absorption and crisped half of Henrik's body. Luckily, Henrik had a bizarre and incredibly rare skill, something he called Stasis Reversion, that allowed him to revert his body to a previous physical state from moments before. It was the first time Fin had ever heard of a skill with a hard, system-enforced cooldown. As Henrik explained it, he could only use it once per day, making it the ultimate emergency button.

"Sorry about that," Fin said reflexively.

"No need to apologize, he literally asked you to go all out," Kellan said, hopping off his perch on the comfy couch and walking over to the group.

"Agreed," said Nikole, finishing her quick check on Freya, who was trying to push the overly attentive girl away. "Besides, it'll make a fun story that we'll be able to tell for years. The day the quiet prodigy almost incinerated the loudest mouth in the academy."

Kellan smiled. "Your very own 'pie incident.'"

The group erupted in laughter, while Henrik did his best to make himself smaller, his face flushing a bright red that clashed horribly with his yellow hair. "It was one time!"

Fin absently listened to the group tease their friend, the easy camaraderie a warm and welcome presence. He pulled up his system screen.

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Name: Fin Aodh

Age: 13

Core Status: Tier Two [Taranis Imprint]

Active Skills:

Lightning Armament* (Unique) Level 18

Plasma Compression Core* (Unique) Level 6

Dimensional Pocket Realm (Legendary) Level 6

Passive Skills:

Convergent Equilibrium* (Unique) Level 20

Electromagnetic Synchronization* (Unique) Level 14

Theoretical Physics Application* (Unique+) Level 6

Ambient Cloak (Unique) Level 14

The progression he had made since joining this chaotic group was astounding. Sparring with them was like being in a constant, high-stakes puzzle. They pushed him, challenged him, and forced him to think in ways he never would have on his own. He loved every second of it.

"If you guys are finished trying to give me an aneurysm from embarrassment, can we please go shower so we can head down to Havenhol?" Henrik asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Sure," Nikole said before turning to Fin. "Are you joining us?"

Fin hesitated. He hadn't been into the city a single time since he'd arrived. The thought of the bustling city was… intimidating. Before he could answer, Freya wrapped a strong arm around his shoulders. "Of course he is," she declared, already pushing him towards the exit of the training room. "We have to get the little loner off campus before he starts growing roots out of his feet and becomes a permanent fixture of the training hall."

**

Fin stood at the academy's grand entrance, discretely channeling mana into his Convergent Equilibrium skill to regulate his elevated heart rate. This represented his first trip into the city since arriving, and his nervous system was responding with entirely reasonable anxiety. He unconsciously adjusted the hood of his garment, not quite like the hoodies from Earth, but the closest approximation his mother's tailors could create from his detailed specifications. The fabric was soft, comfortable, and, at his parents' insistence, embedded with half a dozen defensive enchantments that could probably stop everything short of military-grade magical assault. His personal security blanket disguised as casual wear.

The group arrived minutes later, their appearance transformed from student warriors to normal young adults with remarkable efficiency. Nikole wore a simple, elegant black dress paired with a white cardigan that somehow managed to look both modest and sophisticated. Henrik had chosen a crisp shirt with well-fitted black slacks that emphasized his tall, lean frame. Kellan looked comfortable in a navy tunic with matching pants, the ensemble suggesting casual wealth without ostentation. Freya wore a similar tunic, though hers was covered by a dark, hooded cloak that concealed her tattoos.

"Interesting garment," Nikole commented with an appreciative eye, her gaze cataloging details with professional thoroughness. "I don't recognize the style."

"Thanks," Fin mumbled, self-consciousness making his voice smaller. "I had my mother commission a few."

"I'll need to borrow the design," Henrik said, rubbing the soft material between his fingers with genuine interest. "This feels remarkably comfortable. What's the thread count?"

"Alright, fashion critics," Kellan announced, pointing toward a horseless carriage approaching the gate with silent efficiency, "transportation has arrived. Analysis can continue en route."

The ride down the winding mountain road proved surprisingly pleasant. The magically-powered carriage provided smooth, silent travel while the group filled the space with the easy conversation of close friends. Topics ranged from annoying professors to academic gossip, apparently a fourth-year had attempted to romantically charm a water elemental.

"So, what brings us to town anyway?" Fin asked, curiosity finally overcoming social anxiety.

"Freya has been obsessing over this new restaurant that specializes in exotic beast cuisine," Nikole explained with fond exasperation. "But our reservation isn't for two hours. Is there anything you wanted to see? Experience?"

Fin considered the question seriously. "Are there establishments where I could research potential skill acquisitions? Or examine skill evolution pathways?"

A collective, theatrical groan filled the carriage interior.

"Of course," Kellan said, slumping dramatically in his seat. "We survive weeks of intensive combat training, and your idea of recreational activity is more training."

Fin shrugged, looking hopefully at Nikole. She was their information specialist, after all.

She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, mental catalogs clearly spinning behind green eyes. A moment later, she snapped her fingers with obvious satisfaction. "The Scriptorium Lexicon."

The groans from the other three intensified with genuine distress.

"Please, Nikole, anywhere but there," Freya begged, clutching her head with theatrical despair.

"I'd rather wrestle an angry, constipated dragon," Henrik agreed with unusual fervor.

"I'm with them," Kellan added, shaking his head emphatically. "That place gives me existential headaches."

"Too bad," Nikole said with unassailable finality. As the carriage stopped in a bustling plaza filled with afternoon shoppers, she grabbed Fin's arm and began navigating through the crowd. "You three can browse for trinkets. Fin and I have research to conduct."

The building they approached looked aggressively mundane, sandwiched between a noisy bakery that smelled of fresh bread and cinnamon, and a tailor's shop displaying colorful fabrics in its windows. The only signage was a simple painted wooden sign depicting an open book with a quill hovering above its pages, trailing elegant script.

"Can we wait outside?" Freya pleaded from what she clearly considered a safe distance. "Please?"

"Absolutely not," Nikole said with cheerful determination, already pulling Fin through the door.

The interior bore no resemblance to the mundane exterior. Stepping across the threshold felt like entering a completely different reality, one where the laws of physics were merely suggestions. Books with small, leathery wings fluttered through the air like literary birds, arranging themselves on towering shelves that stretched impossibly high. In one corner, three cats wearing tiny spectacles were engaged in what appeared to be serious philosophical discussion over delicate tea service. In the center of the room, a garter snake wearing a miniature top hat was locked in spirited dance competition with a hamster whose tail sparkled with diamond spikes. The air carried scents of old paper, warm cinnamon, and the clean, electric smell of concentrated magical energy.

Fin stood in complete, gobsmacked awe, his mind struggling to process sensory input that challenged fundamental assumptions about reality.

"Welcome."

"Welcome?"

"Welcome!"

The three distinct, yet identical, voices snapped Fin out of his stupor. He turned towards the sound and found himself staring at a long wooden counter. The shock immediately returned to his face. Sitting behind the counter, each with a bright, welcoming smile, were three identical triplets. The only difference between them was the color of the small, elegant horns that curled back from their temples: one was a brilliant crimson, one a deep sapphire blue, and one a cheerful, sunny yellow.

"Hello," said the red-horned triplet.

"Hello?" asked the blue-horned one, tilting her head.

"Hello!" exclaimed the yellow-horned one, clapping her hands together.

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