Chapter 7

The Potion Faction's greenhouse was a humid jungle of creeping vines and glowing flora. The air smelled of damp earth and crushed mint.

Cedric Mallow stood at a wooden workbench, his heavy leather apron stained with purple sap. He pushed his brass goggles up into his messy blonde hair and leaned close to a delicate, shimmering Moon-Grass sprout.

Elara stood outside the glass door. She smoothed down her pure white dress, ensuring it looked perfectly simple and innocent. She held a stack of heavy, leather-bound basic magic textbooks in her arms.

She took a breath, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

She didn't speak. She just stood near the entrance, staring at Cedric's back with wide, lost eyes.

Her system pinged. Target acquired.

Elara shifted her weight. She let the top textbook slide off the stack.

It hit the stone floor with a loud, heavy THUD.

Cedric flinched. His hand jerked, nearly snapping the fragile Moon-Grass. He spun around, his brow furrowed in annoyance.

Elara immediately dropped to her knees. She scrambled to pick up the book, her hands shaking.

"I'm so sorry!" she gasped, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just... I needed a quiet place to study. I'll leave."

Cedric's annoyance faded when he saw the panic in her eyes. He wiped his hands on a rag and walked over, kneeling to help her pick up the heavy book.

He glanced at the cover. Introduction to Mana Pathways.

"You're a first-year," Cedric said, his voice analytical but not unkind. "Are you struggling with the basics?"

Elara looked down, biting her lip. "I am. I'm so far behind. But I don't dare ask Professor Alden for help. And... and I definitely can't ask Senior Seraphina."

She paused, letting Seraphina's name hang in the humid air.

Cedric's hands stopped moving. He looked up at Elara. He had heard the cafeteria rumors. The genius who broke down. The prodigy who gave up.

"Why can't you ask Seraphina?" Cedric asked, his scientific curiosity piqued.

Elara clutched the book to her chest. She forced a tear to spill over her lashes. "She hates me. But I don't blame her! She's suffering so much. I wish I could take her pain. I wish I could heal her broken mind."

Cedric stared at Elara's crying face. His brain, wired for logic and chemical equations, immediately rejected the emotional display.

He pushed his goggles further back on his head. "Tears don't fix mana blockages, Elara. Sympathy is useless. Seraphina doesn't need pity. She needs a structural solution."

Elara's tear stopped. She blinked, thrown completely off script. What is wrong with this guy?

Cedric stood up, pacing the narrow aisle between the glowing plants. He began muttering to himself, his hands moving rapidly as he mapped out invisible equations in the air.

"Total mana suppression. Behavioral regression. Apathy." Cedric listed the symptoms. His eyes widened as a forgotten piece of lore surfaced in his mind. He remembered a passage in an ancient text on mana toxicity that he had read years ago. "When a prodigy's core outgrows their physical vessel, it creates a catastrophic backlash. The only known cure is a voluntary suppression, a 'Soul Seal,' which flawlessly mimics the symptoms of a complete mental and magical collapse."

He spun to face Elara, his eyes blazing with manic excitement. "It's not a breakdown... she's protecting herself! And by extension, us! Her core is so powerful it was likely tearing her apart, so she intentionally sealed her own soul to prevent an explosion that would have leveled this academy! She's playing the fool to keep everyone safe!"

Elara stared at him, her mouth slightly open. The sheer magnitude of his delusion left her speechless.

"That's... so brave," Cedric whispered, completely awestruck by his own fabricated narrative. The hero complex in his chest ignited like a powder keg. "I have to cure her. I need to brew a soul-stimulating elixir."

He rushed back to his workbench and began throwing dried roots into a mortar.

Elara stood up, feeling completely ignored. "Cedric? Should I... leave?"

Cedric stopped pounding the roots. He looked at Elara, his eyes narrowing with sudden purpose.

"No. I need data," Cedric commanded. "A sealed soul needs external friction to show cracks. You need to go talk to her."

Elara's stomach plummeted. "What? No! She won't talk to me!"

"Ask her a question," Cedric insisted, walking over and shoving a small, crystal vial of blue liquid into her hand. "Take this Focus Potion as payment. Go to her. Annoy her. Ask her the most complex question you can find. I need to see how her sealed magic reacts to stress."

Elara looked at the priceless potion in her hand. She looked at Cedric's intense, unyielding stare. She was trapped by her own lie. If she refused, she would lose her "kind and helpful" persona.

"Okay," Elara forced the word through gritted teeth. "I'll do it."

Cedric nodded, already turning back to his mortar. "Excellent. Don't come back until you've provoked a reaction."

Elara walked out of the greenhouse. The system panel above her head flashed a bright, mocking yellow. Strategy Deviation.