One of the battlemage magisters noticed the curious boy and stopped by.

“This is a Liht spell, kid,” he explained in a kindly manner.

“I know,” said Pai, his voice sad and yearning, “I’ve always wanted to cast one myself.”

The magister raised his brow, surprised, and gave the boy a closer look. Judging by the handguardless sword and a simple cloak, it was a young Lifekeeper. Most of them were ambasiaths.

“Did you ever try?” the magister asked, very carefully.

Pai nodded.

“Can you show me?”

Pai nodded again.

It was the second time that Milian saw Pai cast his Fiat-lux. Just like the night before, he waved one hand above the other and quietly sang a wordless song over them. The spitting, hissing ball of light appeared above Pai’s palm; he made it float near one of the perfect corridor Lihts. But if the Liht was staying in place, Fiat-lux kept bobbing up and down like a cork on the waves: Pai’s levitation spell was different from the classic one as well.

The magister was surprised, to say the least, but he did his best not to show it. He scratched his chin thoughtfully, frowned, then turned back to Pai.

“What a curious little thing,” he said. “A hybrid between the classic Liht and a battlemage’s fireball. Very, very interesting. Did you invent the formula yourself?”

“Yes!” Pai couldn’t help being proud.

“Oh well…” the mage made a wide welcoming gesture. “My name is Einar Sharlou. I’m a junior magister of battle magic. I teach here. How can I help you?”

Einar was surprisingly nice to the two seemingly useless boys (kids of their age are too young to be accepted into a magical college). After a tour of the college, he took them to his study where he treated the boys with the best Southern coffee and sweets and asked them a lot of questions about their life. Milian got tired of stepping on Pai’s foot under the table every time his friend was about to say too much. Sharlou didn’t notice that or maybe just didn’t show that he noticed: he just moved on to the next topic.

When the Transvolo question resurfaced again, the magister had to disappoint his guests: there were only two mages in the college powerful enough to cast such a difficult spell and both of them were away now.

“How hard is it to learn Transvolo?” asked Pai.

“Very. It’s a spell few people can master. I can only hope to be one of them someday,” Einar sighed.

“May I try?” Pai continued.

“Ah, you are a very talented lad, Pai Prior,” laughed the mage, “but don’t try to jump too high too soon. Anyway, if you, both of you, would like to visit our library, you have my permission to do so…” he hesitated. “You see, I firmly believe that every ambasiath is a potentially powerful mage. People like you are extremely rare. So if you want to… Of course, our senior magisters are away now, but we can accept you both even in their absence by assembling a junior magisters' council and voting. Just say a word and you’ll become students here. No exams.”

Milian half-smiled sceptically at that. Pai grinned, his eyes shining. But despite their reactions to Einar Sharlou’s offer being so different, both boys jumped at the opportunity to see the library. Pai grabbed all the books about Transvolo he could find and lost himself in reading. Milian wasn't so quick in choosing his subject. After wandering among the tall, dusty bookshelves for a while, he felt a familiar warm feeling flicker under his heart; that was how he usually picked a book to read. Today, it was the newest edition of Encyclopaedia of the No Man's Land. Milian disliked its simplistic chapter summaries at once but enjoyed the chapters themselves immensely.