Once the demonstration ended, Marlowe's gaze swept the room, calculating. "You've now seen all six — Air, Light, Dark, and Garlock's Water, Fire, Earth. Tell me which ones interest you."
The others fell into quiet discussion, weighing their choices. I waited, half-formed plans of my own already circling.
"Professor," I said finally, raising a hand. "Would it be possible to learn all six?"
The room went still. Every face turned toward me — surprise, curiosity, a little disbelief in equal measure.
Marlowe considered the question seriously before answering. "I'm afraid mastering all six isn't something any one person manages. Even our strongest mages struggle past three. Better to focus, and master a few completely, than spread yourself too thin to master any of them at all."
The silence held a beat longer. Beside me, Krisha caught the way my shoulders dropped slightly at that, something sympathetic crossing her face before she looked away again.
One by one, the others made their choices. "Fire and Earth," Roderick said. "Air and Water," from the girl beside him. "Light and Dark," from the quieter boy at the end of the table.
Krisha stepped forward last among them. "Dark and Earth, for me."
"Both powerful, in different ways," Marlowe said, noting it down. "You'll have a broad set of tools to work with."
Then his attention settled on me. "And you, Kazu? Your choices?"
I took a breath. "I want to learn all six. Even if it's supposed to be impossible — I'm willing to put in whatever it takes."
The silence that followed had weight to it. Marlowe's usual composure slipped, just for a moment, into open surprise. "All six," he repeated slowly. "That's ambitious, to put it mildly."
He studied me a while longer, and whatever he found in my expression seemed to settle something for him. "If you're determined to walk this path, I won't stand in your way. You may pursue all six, if you're prepared to bear the cost of it."
A ripple of surprise moved through the others at that.
"Understand what you're asking for, though," Marlowe added, more seriously now. "Attempting six is closer to a slow form of suicide than most people realize. The strain on both mana and mind is immense. This isn't a decision to make lightly."
He let that sit a moment, giving me room to reconsider, then addressed the room at large. "That concludes the three I teach. Between Garlock's lesson and mine, you now have a full picture of what you're choosing between. Choose carefully, and prepare with equal care — the real work starts now."
As the others filed out, Marlowe caught my arm gently. "A word, Kazu, if you don't mind."
I followed him to the side of the emptying room. "I wanted to ask," he said, "what drives a decision like that. Six affinities is a formidable undertaking for anyone."
"I just believe that if I work hard enough, it's possible," I said. "I want to see how far I can actually push."
He studied me a moment, something almost approving in his expression despite the caution in his voice. "A commendable attitude. But I'll say it again — this is a genuinely dangerous road. Be certain you understand what it will ask of you."
"I will," I said. "Thank you for the honesty, Professor."
He watched me go, curiosity plainly unresolved on his face. Once I'd left, he opened a desk drawer and drew out an old, leather-bound scroll etched with fine, careful symbols — an Arcanum Scroll, rare enough that few students would ever see one in their time here, capable of revealing a person's class and mana capacity at a glance.
He caught up to me in the hallway before I'd gotten far. "Kazu — I'd like you to use this. It should tell us both a great deal more about what you're actually capable of."
I took it with genuine gratitude. "Thank you, Professor. I'll use it right away."
He watched me go, already turning the day's events over in his mind. What class does this boy carry, to speak so plainly about six affinities at once? And what, precisely, is he capable of?