Still, the young man had not anticipated that his minor words and actions would provoke such an unusual reaction from Marina. This was beyond his calculations. Though he took satisfaction in the embrace of the gentle maiden, it stirred a sense of guilt within him—as if he were committing a crime against her pure human soul.
"Uh..." Seraph found himself speechless, his face pressed against her softness, his mind racing to maintain its composure.
"You needn't worry yourself any longer," Marina said, her voice firm with resolve. "I'll support you in every way I can. You will have your ten potions, and from now on, you come to me whenever you're in need. Just... promise me you'll strive to become the magis you dream of being. Whether you find great power or stay exactly as you are—if these help you find your path, then they've served their purpose."
Seraph yearned to be moved by her benevolent words, yet having his face pressed against her statuesque bosom until he could scarcely breathe nearly eroded his restraint. It threatened to regale his intellect to that of a mindless beast.
The young man had to exert his utmost will to refrain from rending her thin garments. He could not commit such a transgression against the maiden; she was, at the very least, his benefactor.
"Marina! Would you... could you please let me go for a moment?" Seraph's voice came out muffled, his words half-strangled against her warmth.
"Ah! S-sorry!" Marina gasped, her voice jumping as she scrambled back, her face flushing a deep, sudden crimson.
The maiden recoiled half a step, her visage flushing a radiant pink. She had only just realized the excessive proximity she had allowed. Such unbecoming behavior was something she usually guarded against, having always maintained a strict distance from every magis.
For no matter the circumstance, she held the status of a High Healer of Arkflame. Yet, she could not fathom why, on this day, her self-control had utterly failed her.
The young healer retreated toward the medicinal vault to retrieve the ten mana potions for Seraph. The vessels Marina presented were crafted of cobalt glass. They were frosted carafes through which the liquid within remained visible—translucent enough to reveal that the glass held a potent herbal potion of deep azure.
Potions were herbal decoctions that synthesized the arts of mageia brewing and the science of alchemy. They existed in various forms, though most were rendered as draughts. Furthermore, potions served as both curative agents and restoratives for mana; these very draughts had assisted Seraph in mending his severe trauma with exceptional speed.
A mana potion was a liquid essence with the properties to replenish the mana within one's form. To exist as a magis, one must have mana coursing through their veins. The volume of mana and the potency of mageia power defined both the affinity and the threshold of a magis.
The extent to which a magis could manifest spell incantations depended in part on the quantity of mana held within the body. Conversely, the finesse in rhapsodizing a spell and commanding the mageia force relied upon one's mageia perception and power.
Through this, the mageia power would commune with and command the natural forces surrounding the caster to move according to the magis's volition. This was the fundamental principle regarding the operation of mageia force.
The Sanctus Sanctum did not provide mana potions to support novices. This was because a magis could restore their internal mageia force or mana naturally through meditation or slumber. Furthermore, acomages were rarely required to undertake missions as frequent or arduous as those of other magis, thereby reducing their necessity and rate of mana consumption.
The Sanctus Sanctum was the hearth of the magis. Naturally, they focused exclusively on the study of the arts of mageia. Education within Sanctus differed from the curricula of other mageia academies, for here, no one was coerced into learning. If one lacked the desire to study or train, they simply refrained from doing so.
However, should one desire to evolve their mageia power, they were required to pursue knowledge through their own resolve. Consequently, the tenure within Sanctus was neither burdensome nor pressuring; at times, it was even perceived as too relaxed or lax. This resulted in mana potions being deemed unnecessary for the noble lineage.
Everyone understood that a mana potion was the true shortcut to becoming a potent magis. Even if two individuals possessed equal affinity for mageia power, the presence or absence of mana potions would, over time, cause their capabilities to diverge like parallel lines stretching toward different horizons.
Should one desire to grow more powerful, they must rhapsodize spell incantations with utmost frequency or engage in combat against demons. On the path of the magis, no other shortcut existed.
To be without a mana potion meant one could scarcely ascend. Even a magis of high affinity, if deprived of resource support, would find the evolution of their mageia force an arduous struggle. Ultimately, the might of a magis was often adjudicated by the resources and status supporting them from the shadows.
The world was not perfect, yet neither was it entirely cruel. A magis possessed the opportunity to grow strong and reach a higher echelon if they harbored sufficient perseverance. That was precisely what Seraph was pursuing.
A mana potion was not a commodity granted freely to a novice; it was classified as a regulated medicinal supply. For Marina to bestow these potions upon Seraph was an act that exceeded her mandate—a manifestation of bias.
Yet, every decree held its exceptions! A High Healer could exercise personal discretion to distribute medicinal supplies and mageia materiel to an acomage should she deem it appropriate. Given that the young man's physique had been battered by years of torment, there was more than enough justification for her to treat him as a special case. Granting these decoctions to Seraph was thus considered part of a restorative process, violating no laws of the Sanctus Sanctum.
Nevertheless, such occurrences rarely befell others, for other magis did not think to ask, nor did they seek mana potions from Marina for the sake of growth.
When other magis approached Marina, they manifested only lust and carnal desire.
Thus, Marina never allowed proximity to anyone save for Seraph, who was as the younger brother she never had.
Seraph received the ten mana potions with a swelling heart. He swiftly tucked them within the folds of his cloak. Though his resources were meager, now that he had secured these draughts from Marina for his training, the evolution of his mageia capabilities was finally within reach.
"Thank you, Marina. Truly. I won't forget this—nor will I forget that you were the one who stood by me when it mattered most." Seraph said, his gaze radiating absolute sincerity.
"Mageia duels have their place in growth, I suppose, but you must be careful," Marina advised, her voice heavy with concern. "Mind who you're up against. If the odds aren't in your favour, don't go throwing yourself into any more scrapes—not just yet, at any rate."
"Thank you for caring so much... but I really must be off." A small smile played on Seraph's lips as he turned away.
Marina watched the young man's retreating back—upright and steady as a spear—with eyes full of wonder and suspicion.
'Something is different,' she mused, her heart a chaotic flutter of nerves. 'He was always so guarded, so... quiet. For years, he could barely bring himself to look me in the eye. And yet today...'
She felt a heat rise to her cheeks. 'Those heterochromatic eyes of his. One gold, one azure... honestly, they draw one in like a charm spell. Goodness, Marina, don't be so bloody foolish! What on earth are you thinking?'
The High Healer pressed both hands to her crimson cheeks, swaying in a fit of bashful solitude within the chamber.
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