The moment Almora removed the ring from her finger, a sharp, searing pain tore through her entire body. It wasn't a subtle ache, it was as though something buried deep within her had been violently awakened. Her knees buckled slightly under the pressure of it, and a red aura exploded from her skin, surrounding her like a fiery storm.

She instinctively tried to raise the ring back to her finger, hoping to quiet the roaring magic and ease the pain, but Mr. Powell stepped in swiftly. With one motion, he took the ring from her trembling hand and spoke with unyielding firmness, "You won't wear this ring again."

Then he turned to face the entire class, his voice echoing powerfully across the magically-enhanced room. "Anything that has been put on you to lock your powers will be taken from you today and you are not getting it back."

The room went silent. Students stiffened, unsure if they'd heard correctly.

"Do not try to keep your powers locked," Mr. Powell continued. "You are here to learn how to use your powers, not to bury them in fear or shame. You may not have seen this in your rule book," his eyes scanned the room, "but let me make it clear, keeping your powers locked is a very grave offense. One I believe none of you would wish to commit."

His voice was calm but carried a stern weight that left no room for argument.

Then he turned back to Almora, who was still glowing, her body faintly trembling from the overwhelming energy surging through her. Her eyes flickered with confusion and fear, the glow outlining her silhouette like fire dancing on the edge of control.

Without warning, Mr. Powell handed her a mop stick. "Control your overflow of powers," he said, his voice lowering slightly as he looked into her eyes. "And change the color of this stick."

Almora hesitated as she took the object with both hands. Her fingers shook as they wrapped around the handle, her breath coming out in short gasps. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to find focus through the chaos that boiled inside her.

The classroom fell deathly quiet. Everyone watched, barely daring to breathe. Almora stood alone in front of them all, the red light still shimmering off her skin, her red hair glowing faintly under the magical energy.

She held the stick tightly. The pain flared again-raw and relentless. She screamed, a sound that sliced through the air as her body writhed, shoulders contorting from the force coursing through her. But still, she didn't let go of the stick.

She tried to change its color-focused her will, gritted her teeth but instead, the stick snapped. It shattered into tiny pieces in her hands, scattering like broken glass across the floor.

Gasps rippled through the class. Mr. Powell said nothing. Instead, he calmly handed her another stick.

Her hands were pale, knuckles white as she took it. Her body trembled as she gripped it again, the pain now feeling like molten fire running beneath her skin.

Lucian, watching from the side, clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked. His jaw was tight, his teeth grinding together. Something deep and unexplainable was building inside him as he watched Almora struggle. He didn't understand it, but every time she flinched, something inside him flinched too. He wanted nothing more than to stand up, walk up there, and pull the pain out of her himself.

His breathing had grown shallow without him realizing.

Then, finally, after a stretch of time that felt endless, Almora let out a sudden gasp-and the stick changed. The aura around her shifted. The glow began to recede. Color flushed back into her cheeks. She stared at the stick in disbelief.

Mr. Powell's eyes flew wide open.

The change had happened, yes-but not just a change in color. When he followed the transformation with his eyes, he froze. The stick-now a sleek, polished rod with intricate patterns was entirely transformed. It looked nothing like what she had been given. She had reshaped it. Recreated it.

Almora, noticing the shock on his face, followed his gaze down to the object in her hands-and her own eyes widened in disbelief. The stick was no longer a stick. It was a crafted stick, with faint runes etched across its surface. It shimmered faintly in her grip.

"Well done, Almora. Very good," Mr. Powell finally said, his voice steadier now, though still laced with awe.

He turned back to the class. "Now, everyone-take the stick in front of you and change its color. Take off whatever is used to lock your powers. You can take help from the seniors if you need any."

Almora turned and made her way back to her seat slowly, her steps unsteady but firm. As she sank back into the chair beside Stacy, she let out a heavy breath of relief, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.

Stacy leaned in, eyes wide with admiration. "That was awesome! You did well there. Hope your pains are gone?"

Almora stared ahead for a moment, still holding the transformed object. "I did well?" she muttered, as if she didn't believe it. Then she looked at Stacy and nodded faintly. "Fine... Thanks. Yeah, the pain is gone now." She glanced down at the desk. "You should try yours too."

While Almora settled, on the other side of the room, Lucian finally released the breath he didn't even realize he had been holding. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he looked down at his own hands, wondering why her pain had affected him so deeply.

Why am I feeling this way anytime I see her? he asked himself silently.

Beside him, Melanie noticed the far-off look in his eyes. She placed a hand lightly on his arm. "Babe, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine," Lucian said quickly, brushing it off. "It's nothing."

Simon, sitting nearby and observing the activity in the classroom, spoke up, nodding toward the students below. "Their set seems to be really fast learners. Look, they're already getting a hang of it without much help from us."

His eyes stopped at Almora. "Most especially the Red. She's exceptional. She's just like a Warrior Red."

Melanie scoffed, her tone sharp and bitter. "She's just showing off. Nothing more. Her kind brings nothing but destruction."

The air around Lucian turned cold.

"Melanie!" he snapped, his voice sharp and cutting like a blade. He turned to her, eyes darkened with something fierce. "Don't you dare say a word against her again."

Melanie faltered. "But babe, I... I-"

She couldn't finish. The look in Lucian's eyes was enough to silence her. There was no mistaking it, his glare was full of fire. A protective storm raged behind his gaze, something even he didn't fully understand.

She turned away, her lips pressed in a thin line. Her jaw clenched. Oh Red, she thought bitterly, you will pay for this.