"Please relax, Mr. Ardent," Headmistress Astra said. "I have no intention of blasting you to smithereens today."
"That's... reassuring?" I managed, my voice cracking from fatigue.
The corner of the Headmistress's mouth twitched upward in what might have been a smile. "Indeed. Rather unexpectedly, I find myself in the unusual position of extending gratitude."
I blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Gratitude, Mr. Ardent. It's a concept wherein one acknowledges the positive contributions of another." Her eyes flickered with something like humor. "I understand it may be unfamiliar territory for you."
Finn snorted, then quickly disguised it as a cough when the Headmistress's gaze shifted to him.
"Your commitment to repairing the damage caused by the... probability incident... has been commendable," she continued. "Professor Zephyr reports that the Rift Garden's dimensional stability has been restored to ninety-seven percent of its original state, a remarkable achievement considering your lack of magical assistance."
I swallowed, unsure how to respond.
"And Mr. Thorne, Mr. Moridian," she continued, turning to my friends. "Your loyalty has not gone unnoticed. Standing by a friend whose very existence generates catastrophic probability distortions requires either extraordinary courage or profound foolishness." She paused. "Perhaps both."
Finn and Gavril exchanged glances.
"In recognition of your contributions, I am advancing each of your tournament ranks by one level."
Gavril's eyes widened in shock, while Finn looked like he might pass out, but whether from joy or terror, I couldn't tell.
"As for you, Mr. Ardent," she continued, her gaze returning to me, "your rank remains unchanged. You have merely managed to reduce the severity of your self-inflicted predicament."
I nodded, unsurprised.
"Given your ranks, you would typically be restricted to Academy grounds until your second year. However, I am making an exception." She waved her hand, and a map materialized in the air before us, depicting a sprawling city nestled against mountains to the east. "After consultation with Lady Fortune and Lady Althea, you are allowed to visit the nearby Lumina City for precisely three hours."
The map expanded, revealing detailed streets, landmarks, and districts labeled with elegant script.
"The Artificer's Quarter," Gavril whispered, his eyes wide with excitement. "I've read about their experimental enchantment workshops."
I tried not to look too eager, but the prospect of escaping the Academy's suffocating pressure, even briefly, felt like being offered water after crawling through a burning desert infested with dragons.
"There are, naturally, conditions," the Headmistress continued, dispelling the map with a flick of her wrist. She turned to me. "Mr. Ardent, you will wear a probability limiter for the duration of your visit."
Liora stepped forward, producing a slender silver bracelet etched with pulsing blue runes. "I've calibrated it specifically to your... unique resonance," she said, not quite meeting my eyes. "It won't completely neutralize your field, but it should prevent any city-wide catastrophes."
"How reassuring," I muttered.
"Additionally," the Headmistress continued, "you will be forcibly returned to your dormitories exactly three hours after your departure. No extensions, no exceptions."
"What happens if we're not ready?" Finn asked.
"Then I suggest you prepare to explain to whatever shopkeeper, scholar, or citizen you're conversing with why you've suddenly vanished in a flash of light," she replied smoothly. "The teleportation protocol is non-negotiable."
"One final note," the Headmistress continued, her tone shifting to something heavier. "I will be watching your performances in the upcoming tournament with particular interest. Today's reward is not merely for past efforts, but an investment in future achievements." Her eyes lingered on each of us in turn. "Do not disappoint me."
Before any of us could respond, reality warped around us, and we were deposited unceremoniously back in our dormitory.
"Did that just happen?" Finn gasped.
Gavril checked his pocket watch. "If we want the full three hours, we need to leave in twenty minutes."
"Three hours of freedom." I breathed, the concept almost too magnificent to contemplate. "No professors, no probability drills, no one trying to hex me between classes..."
"Except for the probability limiter, the time limit, the emergency recalls, and the ominous warning about future performance," Finn pointed out cheerfully.
"Details," I waved dismissively, already rummaging through my trunk for clothes that didn't scream "magical academy disaster student."
Twenty minutes later, we stood before the Academy's teleportation gate, a monumental arch of floating obsidian fragments that never quite touched each other, crackling with silver-blue energy that made my teeth itch. A bored-looking fifth-year student sat at a desk beside it, checking authorization forms against a massive ledger.
"Names?" she drawled, not looking up.
"Ardent, Thorne, and Moridian," Gavril replied. "First-years, special dispensation from Headmistress Astra."
That got her attention. She looked up sharply, eyes narrowing. "First-years? To Lumina?" She flipped through her ledger skeptically until her finger landed on a fresh entry. Her eyebrows shot up. "Well... that's unusual."
"We specialize in unusual," Finn said with a grin.
The fifth-year gave me a critical once-over. "You're the probability anomaly, aren't you? The one who nearly collapsed the Rift Garden?"
I sighed. "That would be me."
She pointed to a small pedestal beside the gate. "Limiter check. Place your wrist there."
I held out my arm with the silver bracelet, placing it on the pedestal. The runes flashed from blue to purple, then back to steady blue.
"Functional, but the attenuation could be stronger," she muttered, making a notation in her ledger. "Try not to visit any sensitive magical repositories, would you? The Athenaeum would probably appreciate keeping their collection intact."
"Wouldn't dream of it," I assured her, remembering enormous domed structure near the city center.
"Destination: Lumina Central Plaza," the fifth-year intoned, activating the gate with a complex gesture. "Return protocol set for precisely three hours from mark. Prepare for transition in three... two... one..."
The world compressed around us. Unlike my previous teleportation experiences, which generally ended with me being flung to inappropriate locations at inappropriate velocities, this one felt... controlled. The sensation of being squeezed through a narrow tube ended abruptly, and we emerged in a circular plaza bathed in late afternoon sunlight.
"We... made it?" I blinked, patting myself down to ensure all parts had arrived intact. "Without any detours or explosions?"
"The probability limiter works, it seems," Gavril observed.
For the first time in weeks, I wasn't being hunted, tested, or punished. No professors analyzing my every magical misstep, no classmates waiting for my next catastrophic probability surge, no garden to rebuild.
Let's enjoy this limited freedom however we can.