After hours of labor, three classes, and two more "accidental" magical attacks in the corridors, I dragged myself to Professor Nihil's remedial training session. The classroom was sparse, one desk, one chair. To my immense relief, Professor Zephyr was already there, engaged in what appeared to be a tense conversation with Professor Nihil.
"Ah, Mr. Ardent," Professor Zephyr greeted me with his usual energy. "Just in time. We were discussing your unique... situation."
Professor Nihil's face remained impassive. "Sit," he commanded, pointing to a lone chair in the center of the room.
I sat.
"Today," Nihil began, "we will assess the extent of your... condition... and begin the process of imposing order upon chaos." The way he said "chaos" made it sound like a personal offense.
Professor Zephyr leaned against a nearby desk, watching with apparent casualness, though I noticed his fingers were poised in what I recognized as the beginning stance for a defensive spell.
"Your connection to probability is fundamentally flawed," Nihil continued. "Where normal mages draw upon ordered streams of magical energy, you exist in multiple probability states simultaneously. This disorder is... infectious. Dangerous."
"Like Schrödinger's luck," I said, remembering Gavril's term.
Nihil's eye twitched. "A crude analogy, but not entirely inaccurate." He moved closer, his shadow seeming to stretch unnaturally toward me. "Hold out your hand."
I hesitated, looking toward Professor Zephyr, who gave me a small nod.
When I extended my hand, Nihil placed a small, black cube onto my palm. "This is a probability sensor. It measures fluctuations in reality's fabric."
The cube immediately began to pulse with an angry red light, vibrating violently.
"As expected," Nihil said with something close to satisfaction. "Pure negative probability. The fluctuations are getting stronger, not weaker."
"How long will it last?" I asked.
"That depends," he replied. "Under normal circumstances, probability seeks equilibrium. But your case is... unique. The entanglement with Lady Fortune has created complications."
For the next two hours, Nihil subjected me to a series of increasingly uncomfortable tests, measuring my "probability field," attempting to contain it with various sigils and incantations, and forcing me to attempt basic spells that invariably went wrong in spectacular ways. Professor Zephyr intervened only once, when one of Nihil's containment spells caused me to double over in pain.
"The Headmistress was quite clear about avoiding physical harm, Nihil," Zephyr said, his usual playfulness absent from his voice.
Nihil inclined his head slightly. "A miscalculation. It won't happen again."
By the end of the session, I was mentally exhausted, and Nihil seemed no closer to "fixing" me. If anything, he appeared increasingly fascinated by my condition.
"Your negative probability will persist for approximately another ten days," he finally announced. "After which, if equilibrium is achieved naturally, you should return to your previous state of... chaotic neutrality."
"And if equilibrium isn't achieved naturally?" I asked.
Nihil's lips curved into what might have been a smile on anyone else. "Then more... direct methods may be required."
****
After Nihil's session, I had exactly twenty-seven minutes before meeting Liora. Instead of resting, I ducked into an empty classroom and pulled out "A Beginner's Guide to Probability Manipulation", the book that had mysteriously appeared for me in the library. I flipped to the chapter on negative probability fields, absorbing what little information I could before having to rush to the East Tower.
The East Tower, normally a peaceful meditation space, had been modified for my training. Protective sigils covered every surface, and a complex containment circle dominated the center of the room, monitored by no less than three senior professors observing from behind a magical barrier.
"This is excessive," Liora muttered as I entered, her eyes sweeping over the elaborate preparations.
"After what happened last time, can you blame them?" I replied.
She sighed, gesturing for me to sit across from her. "Today we focus on sensing probability currents, not manipulating them. Passive observation only."
"Is that even possible in my condition?"
"We'll find out." She extended her hands, palms up, stopping just short of touching mine. "Close your eyes. Feel the currents around you."
I did as instructed, trying to sense what she described. At first, there was nothing. Then, gradually, I began to feel something, like invisible tides pulling at me from multiple directions, each one tugging with varying intensity.
"I feel... something," I said hesitantly. "Like currents, but they're all negative."
"Because your field is currently locked in a negative state," she explained. "But even negative probability follows patterns. Identify them. Track their movement."
For the next hour, we worked on my ability to sense these currents. By the end, I could vaguely track their ebb and flow, though attempting to influence them remained strictly forbidden.
As our session concluded, Liora leaned slightly closer, her voice dropping. "You're making progress. Don't let Nihil convince you otherwise."
"He says this will last ten more days."
She nodded. "That's consistent with my assessment. Ten days until natural equilibrium."
"And the tournament?"
"Is in seventeen days." Her eyes met mine, intense and unyielding. "We'll need every minute."
****
That night, after completing half of Nihil's impossible assignment, I set my alarm crystal for an hour before dawn. When it vibrated gently under my pillow, I slipped silently from bed, careful not to wake Finn or Gavril. In the dim predawn light, I sat cross-legged on the floor and practiced Professor Blackthorn's first principle of combat magic: intent.
"Intent without control leads to destruction," I whispered, recalling her words. Without actually casting any spells, my magical ban still in effect, I focused on visualizing the precise outcome I wanted, holding the image steady despite the chaotic currents I could now faintly sense around me.
The next nine days followed the same brutal pattern: wake before dawn for thirty minutes of personal training, rebuild the garden, steal five minutes between classes to study Professor Vex's protection sigils or Professor Parallax's spatial theories, attend classes while dodging magical attacks, endure Nihil's "remedial" sessions, train with Liora, then stay up half the night completing Nihil's impossible assignments before snatching another twenty minutes to review my growing theoretical understanding.
On day five, I collapsed during garden duty, only to be revived by Lady Althea, who frowned at my condition.
"Your probability field remains severely negative," she said, checking my vitals with glowing hands. "But there's a change. It's... stabilizing, in a way. Still negative, but consistent rather than chaotic."
"Is that good?" I asked weakly.
"It's... interesting," she replied. "Keep up your sessions with Lady Fortune. They appear to be having an effect."
That evening, despite my exhaustion, I forced myself to spend twenty minutes reviewing what Professor Gravitas had taught about emotional states influencing spell resonance. I closed my eyes, cycling through different emotions—anger, joy, curiosity—trying to sense how each affected the negative probability currents around me.
As week two began and my magical ban lifted, my personal training sessions became slightly more practical. In the quiet hours before dawn, I'd attempt the simplest spells from our first-year curriculum. The results were unpredictable at best and catastrophic at worst, one morning I somehow transmuted my pillow into a disgruntled hedgehog, but I was learning to anticipate the patterns of failure.
On day ten, something strange happened. I woke up feeling... different. The persistent cloud of misfortune that had followed me seemed lighter somehow. During my morning training session, I successfully cast a simple illumination spell that actually produced light rather than smoke or frogs or inexplicable jazz music. At lunch, I actually made it through the entire meal without spilling anything on myself, a minor miracle by my standards.
Later that evening, during our training session, Liora noticed it immediately.
"Your field is shifting," she said, circling me with a critical eye. "The negative resonance is beginning to balance."
"Is that why I didn't trip over my own feet today?" I asked.
"Precisely," she nodded. "Your sustained period of pure misfortune has created a vacuum effect. Probability abhors imbalance. It always seeks equilibrium."
"So my luck is... fixing itself?"
"More like calibrating," Liora corrected. "Don't get excited. You're still far from what anyone would call 'lucky.' But you're returning to your natural state, chaotic rather than purely negative."
It was the closest thing to good news I'd had in weeks.
****
By the third week, my stolen training moments began to show marginal improvement. One evening, I successfully recreated Professor Parallax's spatial theory, making a small stone appear in my hand from across the room without exploding or transmuting. The next morning, I managed to trace one of Professor Vex's barrier glyphs that actually glowed with protective energy for three full seconds before dissolving into blue sparkles.
"Will is the rudder that steers through possibility," I repeated Liora's words to myself during a five-minute break between classes, practicing the subtle mental shift she'd described when working with probability currents.
By day seventeen, I had nearly rebuilt the garden, survived dozens of "accidental" magical attacks, completed all of Nihil's impossible assignments, and managed not to destroy reality during Liora's training sessions or my increasingly ambitious personal practice. Small victories, but I'd take them.
My probability field had indeed begun to stabilize. No longer purely negative, it had returned to its natural state of unpredictable chaos. Sometimes things went catastrophically wrong; other times, against all odds, they went surprisingly right. During my morning practice, I tried to combine Professor Blackthorn's combat principles with Liora's probability sensing, but I still couldn't perfect the technique resulting in me dislocating then relocating my shoulder mid-roll, getting smacked in the face by my own rebounding spell, and biting my tongue so hard I tasted colors.
My friends had been my lifeline through it all. Finn and Gavril continued to help with the garden whenever they could. Elias provided strategic advice and occasional warnings about assassination attempts. Even Vael had intervened once, deflecting a particularly nasty hex aimed at my back during lunch.
The final day of my punishment arrived like a gift. One more day of labor, one more session with Nihil, one more training session with Liora, and then... freedom. Well, relative freedom. The Equinox Tournament still loomed, but at least I had time to prepare properly.
I worked through my garden shift with renewed energy, actually completing reconstruction that had seemed impossible eighteen days ago. Professor Zephyr stopped by to inspect my work, nodding in approval.
"Pretty good, Ardent," he said, eyeing the garden. "For someone with no magical assistance, you've accomplished the nearly impossible."
"Thanks, Professor," I said, wiping sweat from my brow. "Though I think that's the definition of my entire Academy experience so far."
Zephyr chuckled. "Indeed. And speaking of the impossible, Professor Nihil actually asked me to inform you that your remedial session today is canceled."
I blinked in surprise. "Canceled? Why?"
"He's been summoned by the Headmistress," Zephyr said with a poorly concealed smile. "Something about 'excessive punishment protocols' and 'blatant attempts to break a student's spirit.'"
"Did you..." I hesitated. "Did you report him?"
Zephyr's eyes twinkled. "I may have mentioned to the Headmistress that your assignments seemed unnecessarily... severe. But I suspect others have voiced similar concerns." He glanced meaningfully in the direction of the main building, where Liora was often found.
"So I'm free for the afternoon?" I asked, hardly daring to believe it.
"It would appear so," Zephyr nodded. "I suggest rest. You look like you've been fighting a war single-handedly."
"Feels like it, too," I admitted.
I made it back to the dormitory, my body aching but my spirit lighter than it had been in weeks. With this unexpected free time, I could finally try that complex exercise combining Professor Gravitas's emotional resonance technique with Professor Blackthorn's adaptation principle, but the moment I thought it, exhaustion hit me like a physical wave. The only thing left was the final session with Liora, and I needed to be somewhat functional for that.
"Finn? Gavril?" I called, surprised to find the room empty. They had promised to meet me here to celebrate the end of my punishment.
No matter. I could celebrate by unconsciousness. I fell onto my bed, not even bothering to remove my shoes, and closed my eyes.
Sleep had just begun to claim me when the familiar, disorienting sensation of magical transportation seized my body. My stomach lurched as reality bent around me, and I felt myself being pulled through space.
When the world solidified again, I found myself standing in Headmistress Astra's office, facing her constellation-painted desk. Finn and Gavril were already there, looking as confused as I felt. So was Liora, her expression unreadable as always.
And behind the desk sat Headmistress Astra, her ageless face illuminated by the cosmic light that seemed to emanate from her very being.
"Ah, Mr. Ardent," she said, her voice echoing with strange harmonics. "How fortuitous that you could join us."
Fortuitous was not the word I would have chosen.