In contrast to students and instructors bustling by Menor meandered through the campus with a leisurely stretch. Coldness still touched the area. The morning sun reflected and diffracted upon blue glass. Transforming the early day's shade into an illusion of surface water. He sighed a visible breath as weaving lights washed over him.

  As the hour neared all but him hurried towards their morning duties. He, despite also a student, showed no rush. Such lack of concern lead to the testing grounds. Towards the maintained facility where its reinforcement embewment were blown through. Slipping past the layers of cautionary ropes the student waved towards the receptionist. Who held a exasperated expression.

  With a grumpy swipe they took his identifications and quickly scribbled down its relevant information. Sending him through with a wave after. Who would have thought carelessness brought trouble. A lesson learned by the front desk.

  Entering the vast fields within, the wander-bound individual spotted a group, numbering no more than half a dozen, upon a hill. Still a careless pace led his steps as a gentle breeze, unusual for the place, danced. Quietly rounding the slopes he found the once lush lands colored in soot till the distance. The scent of burnt vegetation accompanied the sight. A few glances offered more than enough for speculations. Walking higher the region of the scorched reveled its shape. A cone.

  Stationed upon a hill above, overlooking the earthen disruption, a lively debate played. Ideas and theories drew conflict from a wide cast of individuals despite aiming for the same end. As such words entered earshot Menor shook his head. One of the older individuals noticed his approach. Holding a woolen jacket over an arm the professor waved him over. A slight yet warm smile appeared on his tired complexion.

  "I suspect you saw the note?" asked the older gentleman.

  "The location wouldn't have been written on it," replied Menor.

  "It is the class," the gentleman laughed, "They're debating magical systems."

  "Slow confidence then. The Marshals investigate yet?"

  "Give them a snowcone not a ball. The pleasantries and examinations just finished. They've just begun, but we should wrap up before the Marshals' second round of investigations. Heard they tapped the area a few before noon yesterday."

  The older man paused. Some thoughts began to spark as conjectures lit the mind. Muttering how the Magnums might get involved. Such their little time grew shorter. In front of him the discussion continued on.

  "The magic obviously belong to Gicma arts," spoke a robust student, "No magical art could be destructive enough except those stemming from internal theory."

  "Do you not see the spec of green?" said a neat-looking individual, pointing towards the charred, "The origin point is a donut meaning everywhere around the caster was burnt. Systems with internal theory, specifically Orcer's Gicma magical arts, are released out in a single direction. Therefore, here me out, it cannot cause a donut shape."

  Chiming in a feminine researcher retorted, "But expelling magical energy exists ya know. They could have expelled all their magical energy like POP. That'll explain the donut."

  Another student said, "False. The cone-like blast aligned precisely with the diameter of the hypothesized effective discharge area. It is impossible to produce a magic from another magic in action. It is likely to be a singular magic."

  "External theory then!" replied the robust student, "...but it can't. External doesn't have the power nor energy. Only internal has enough with its internally stored energy... I still don't understand half of what he said."

  "Thanks for the elementary lesson. Want a cookie for that?" asked the neat-looking individual.

  "You're old enough to grab it yourself."

  Before the enthusiastic discussion devolved into a physical nature the professor turned to the new arrival. Asking for insight with words of sincere expectations. Menor let out a sigh. He claimed neither internal or external theory solely aligns with the presented magic. Nor the line of thought was important. Instead essential details laid in its direction of action. Parallel with the wall and towards the open.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Bingo. The professor followed up. Such details lead a step closer to the issue's core. Deducing intent from the burnt area's orientation. Where the magic appeared showed consideration. While destroying a wall at far end of the field displayed aspiration. With carelessness for the shire luck of no harmed individuals.

  Pivoting to another point, the professor said, "To accidentally pierce the protective walls a distance away... how much magical energy would it take?"

  "Stop with the rhetorical," replied the robust student, "That means the initial release of magic was even greater than we first thought. And by, uh, Amy's first law..."

  "Andra's law of decay," Menor corrected.

  "That. The magical energy should diminish over distance, but the burnt areas have similar consistency. It feels nonsensical" —she turned towards the neat-looking student—"like someone I know."

  All fell silent. The obvious conclusion set a foreign precedent. Such where only found in ink rather than practice, yet reality showed the theoretical before them. Someone commented how the velocity of the magic would need to be instant. Another motioned the idea of instantaneous detonation. Yet speculation could only go so far.

  When the heated debate came to a smother, a lax-looking professor clapped. She turn to Menor with a smile. Only finding a simple shrug. Crossing her arms she glared knowing all too well who attended yesterday's only morning experiment. Unfortunately silent provocations were ineffective, but holding the keys to the grading records were not.

  Menor shook his head with a sigh. The only testimony he provided lacked critical differences compared to other witnesses. A sudden massive drop of surrounding magical energy levels. Followed by a brief burst of floral-like flames sprouting over the fields. Then an immediate explosion.

  Knitting his eyebrows, the neat-looking student pointed out the contradictory nature of the magic. Plants and flames. Such a pairing led the topic back to Gicma's magical arts. In reply the feminine researcher openly pondered. Were there international students? A questioned she spoke with a smirk.

  One of the professors shook their head. The only international student at Eastline focused on swordsmanship than magic. In fact foreign individuals would go to a less competitive, but more prestigious location. Following the idea of places, a student mentioned the odd snow that appeared last night. Akin to fireflies. To such a claim a symphony of realizations hit as each came to similar conclusions. One of them assumed a drunk pyromagi major showed off. Another guessed the Magus Wall had its occasions. A third thought he was sleep deprived.

  As always the feminine researcher was quick. She recalled no rumors or murmurs regarding magical energy fluctuates of that night. Even then the governing body would have informed her on the way over. Tagging into the reasoning the robust student concluded the light-esc magic did not affect the area, but that did not sit well with her. Especially in a crowded district with higher amounts of claimed magical energy. Which hampered gathering natural energy. Another chimed in on how taxing and complex light based magic was.

  Piecing together every aspect of the discussion led to a conclusive conclusion. Unprecedented extreme control over magical energy. With an applause the older professor congratulated the group on the simple discovery. To the annoyance of many.

  Each individual there receded into their own thoughts. Piecing together the newfound information. Investigating the matter further would definitely led to a boonful future, yet chasing a gold-laced trail was not appealing to say the least. Natural inclination led their sights towards Menor. He probably sowed seeds already. The man replied with a shrug towards the consensus gaze.

  The lax professor said, "Seeing how the most prestigious of us, Menor, held quick confidence-"

  "What are you..." Menor said.

  "- WHILE not providing a proposal for the year-end paper..."

  "It's literally the second day of-"

  "Its really a shame," the feminine researcher said, "If only I had more time and resources."

  "Indeed," nodded the robust student, "Unlike smudgeless here."

  "I think I see the officials by the entrance. Must be here to catch all-brawns," retorted the neat-looking student.

  "That was quick. Looks like our snooping is over," the older professor said, "Let's skedaddle before those ivies and arrogant prick of a shield catches us."

  Patting Menor on the shoulder the older professor chuckled. With no gap for retorts everyone bid farewell and made way towards the far side of the field. Only him and the feminine researcher remained there. Towards the fleeing figures he could not help but sigh, especially towards the two who began throwing hands.

  "Those two are definitely dating," said the feminine researcher.

  "They're engaged," Menor corrected, "They dated for half a decade. Apparently they only argue during lectures and labs."

  "Surprising. Your cohort always awes me. A handful of details off from what the Marshals know. From what I was told."

  "It's the degree. Analysis and conjuncture, all that."

  "Oh? Care to share info about the perpetrator then? Seems like you know something."

  "Intuition does not hold weight as evidence, Albel."

  A smirk appeared on the researcher's face. To such Menor walked off. Following the steps of those prior led to a fence of cautionary tapes. Beyond laid the destroyed wall. Burnt black, the cement ripped into outward fangs with melted rebar. That magic's heat still lingered despite the cold breeze outside. No one would dare tread past, but if it meant avoiding the arriving party... With a sigh he moved past the flimsy barrier.