The metal fence was cold enough to bite through gloves, its stone holding the day's lost warmth like a memory it refused to give back, and Aiva levitated herself up with a practiced precision while the rest of the school lay behind them in a hush so complete it felt staged.
Chloe was already over by the time Aiva slowly descended next to her, boots landing soft on the outer side, her coat shifting with a quiet rustle as she straightened and glanced back with impatience that didn't quite hide the thrill.
Adam stared up at the height of it from below, hands tucked uselessly into the thin fabric of his pyjamas, his breath fogging in small bursts as he looked from the other side of the metal fence towards them.
He really thought we were just going to climb.
Aiva noted, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she extended a hand that didn't reach for him at all.
He lifted without warning, feet leaving the ground in a clean, startled motion, his shoulders going rigid as he rose past the ledge and landed beside them with a soft, uneven step.
"Okay," he said, blinking, voice low in the quiet. "That's— okay."
Chloe snorted and turned toward the treeline. "Just so you know, If you fell from that height, I wouldn't catch you."
"I didn't fall," Adam said, already moving after her. "Technically I flew. And it's not like you could anyway."
"You were carried like luggage," she shot back, words quick and edged.
Aiva walked on behind the two, boots sinking slightly into the damp earth as she followed them into the forest as the fence disappeared behind trunks and shadow.
The trees closed in quickly, branches bare and thin against a sky that gave nothing back, and the ground crunched faintly underfoot where frost had settled into the top layer of leaves.
Adam pushed through a low branch and caught up to Chloe's side again. "So flying," he said, as if picking up a conversation that had already started in his head. "Actual flying. That's a thing, right?"
Chloe didn't slow, her pace steady and purposeful. "No."
"That sounded very... Final."
"It is final," she said, glancing at him with a look that suggested she was doing him a favor by ending the thought early. "You don't 'fly.' You manipulate force vectors around your body to reduce effective weight and create directional thrust, and if you do it wrong you break something important on impact."
Adam considered that for exactly half a second. "So yes, but complicated."
"It is not yes," she said sharply. "It is no, for you."
"Why specifically for me?"
"Because you can't even hold a stable field yet," Chloe replied, her words coming faster now, the rhythm of her accent threading through the irritation. "Because you don't understand how to distribute Lumen without overcompensating, because your control is—" she made a small, dismissive motion with her hand "—not there."
Aiva let them get a few steps ahead, her breath evening out as she listened, amusement settling in warm and familiar.
She isn't wrong,
she thought,
she's just saying it like she hopes it lands harder than it does.
Adam nodded, absorbing none of the discouragement in the way Chloe clearly intended. "Okay... let's pretend I understood whatever you just said. But how does it actually work?" he asked. "Like, if someone could do it properly."
Chloe exhaled through her nose. "I just told you."
"No, you told me why I can't," he said. "I'm asking how someone can."
That made her look at him properly, irritation shifting into something closer to disbelief. "You're not listening."
"I am," he said. "You're just not talking."
Aiva stepped in then, closing the distance between them with a few quiet strides. "It's not really flying," she said, her voice easy, cutting cleanly through the edge in Chloe's. "It's controlled falling where you decide how gravity applies to you in each moment."
Adam turned to her immediately, interest lighting up his face in a way that felt almost physical. "You've just made it sound more complicated. But you know what? fuck it, that sounds a lot more doable."
Chloe let out a short, sharp laugh, the sound quick and surprised. "It absolutely does not."
Aiva smiled. "It's still very difficult," she added, because she wasn't going to lie to him just to make it sound pretty. "You're managing multiple vectors at once, constantly adjusting as your body moves, and you have to trust your sense of balance more than your eyes."
"But it's possible," Adam said.
"For some people," Chloe cut in. "Eventually. After years."
Adam glanced between them, undeterred. "Okay. That's fine."
Chloe stared at him like he had missed the point on purpose.
My goodness,
Aiva thought, warmth threading through the observation.
He doesn't care that it's hard, I don't even know what to do with that.
They walked on, their voices carrying low through the trees as Chloe continued to list reasons he shouldn't be optimistic and Adam continued to ask questions that ignored every one of them, and Aiva let herself fall a step behind, hands tucked into her coat pockets as she watched the shape of it unfold.
She talks more when she's irritated,
Aiva noted, amused.
And he asks better questions when he's told to stop. This is going to take a while.
Adam slowed slightly, letting Chloe get half a step ahead as he looked back at Aiva. "Why out here though?" he asked. "We usually use the hall."
"Space," Aiva said simply. "And it's easier to let go when there aren't walls reminding you there are limits."
He nodded, considering that, then quickened his pace to rejoin Chloe, already mid-question about something else.
The clearing opened without warning, the trees thinning and then giving way entirely to a stretch of ground wide enough to breathe, the sky above it empty and cold.
Adam stepped into it and looked around, his breath fogging again as the temperature dropped without the cover of branches. "This won't work for long for you guys," he said, glancing up. "If it snows."
"It will work tonight," Aiva replied, moving past him toward the center.
Chloe stopped a few paces in, her shoulders loosening as if she recognized the place by feel rather than sight.
Aiva lifted her hand slightly, not even looking, and the staff appeared in the air beside her as if it had been there a moment ago and simply chose to be visible now.
She caught it in one smooth motion, fingers closing around the familiar weight without ceremony.
Adam's expression shifted, subtle but clear, his gaze dropping briefly to his empty hands before he looked away.
Oh,
Aiva thought, catching the flicker of it.
He didn't know we could do that.
She didn't comment, just adjusted her grip and turned her attention outward.
She planted her feet, the cold ground steady beneath her boots, and raised the staff as the clearing seemed to draw a breath with her.
The first word of the incantation left her lips low and measured, the Latin settling into the air with a weight that felt older than the language itself. "Claudere lumen, vincire spatium, circulis antiquis obstringo…"
The syllables rolled into each other, formal and precise, each one placed with intention as the Lumen around them began to respond.
It gathered slowly at first, a faint shimmer at the edges of perception, then more insistently as it drew toward the stone at the head of her staff, tightening into a visible orbit that pulsed in soft, warm tones. The air shifted with it, subtle but undeniable, the usual pull of gravity loosening just enough to be noticed in the way Chloe's hair lifted slightly from her collar and a few dry leaves stirred upward before settling again.
Aiva continued, her voice steady, the rhythm of the incantation building without haste. "Terminos pono, fines servo, intra hos nexus nihil transit invitus…" The light at the staff's head brightened, the orbit tightening further until it felt almost solid, a contained pressure waiting for release.
She drove the staff down.
The impact rang through the ground in a low, resonant pulse, and from the point of contact, circles burst outward in perfect symmetry, lines of light etching themselves across the clearing floor in expanding rings. Each circle carried glyphs that shifted as they moved, geometric patterns folding into one another in a precise, controlled cascade that rippled through the space with a clarity that felt almost mathematical.
The sound deepened, a layered hum that settled into the bones, and at the outer edge where the circles reached their limit, the light rose.
It lifted in a thin, continuous sheet, a membrane of Lumen peeling upward from the earth as if drawn by an unseen hand, carrying loose leaves and dust with it as it climbed. The curve formed gradually, arching over them in a smooth, controlled ascent until the edges met above, sealing into a complete dome that enclosed the clearing in a faint, warm glow.
For a moment, it held there, visible and undeniable, a hemisphere of soft orange light against the dark line of trees.
Then the brightness faded, the structure settling into something nearly invisible, a quiet presence that only revealed itself in the way the air felt slightly denser within its boundary.
Aiva exhaled, lowering the staff, her grip relaxing as the last of the active motion stilled.
Adam stood very still, his gaze tracing the curve of the dome as if trying to find where it ended and the night began, his mouth opening slightly before closing again without a word.
Chloe let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her expression composed but her eyes tracking the last flickers of light as they dissipated.
Aiva rested the staff lightly against her shoulder. "Alright this should do, no one will see or hear us," she said, her tone shifting into something lighter, almost conversational. "Nothing gets in or out unless I allow it."
She lifted her free hand, fingers flexing slightly, and the air within the dome warmed in a gradual, even spread that took the edge off the cold without any visible source.
Chloe shrugged out of her coat first, tossing it aside with practiced ease, and Aiva followed a second later, the weight of her own layers suddenly unnecessary.
Adam blinked, looking between them. "You can control the temperature too."
"Within reason," Aiva said. "It's all part of the same structure."
He looked up again, then back at her. "Can I learn this?"
"Not for a long time," she answered, honest and unembellished. "It takes years to do it properly."
She tilted her head slightly toward Chloe. "She's been working on barriers for a year and can manage a weak tiny one at best."
Adam turned to Chloe, something bright and entirely unhelpful lighting up his expression. "Seriously?"
Chloe's eyes narrowed. "Don't you even think about—"
He laughed, quick and genuine, the sound breaking through the lingering quiet of the spell. "Okay, that makes me feel better."
Her expression sharpened, a flicker of something tighter beneath the irritation. "You should not feel better about being bad at things."
"I feel better about not being the only one," he said.
"That is not the same," she snapped.
Aiva let the exchange play out, her attention drifting briefly to the edge of the dome where the boundary shimmered faintly under the residual energy.
Adam bent, picking up a small rock from the ground, weighing it in his hand. "Can I test it?"
"Go ahead," Aiva said with a smug expression.
He threw it upward with more force than a human would have used, the motion clean and instinctive, and the rock struck the inner surface of the dome with a sharp, contained impact.
The barrier rippled where it hit, a wave of warm orange spreading outward from the point of contact in a smooth, circular pattern before settling back into stillness.
The rock dropped straight down, landing near his feet.
Adam stared at it, then back up. "That's—"
"Contained," Aiva said, a hint of satisfaction threading through her tone.
He rolled the rock once under his shoe, then looked up at her. "So what's next?"
"I want to see something," Aiva said. "So... You and Chloe. Spar again."
Adam glanced at his empty hands, the earlier flicker of embarrassment returning. "I don't have my staff."
"That sounds like your problem," she replied lightly.
He huffed a quiet laugh. "Fair."
Aiva shifted her grip on her own staff, considering them both. "Before that, though, I want to teach you the theory behind telekinesis since you wouldn't stop bothering Chloe about it."
Adam straightened slightly, interest immediate. "Now?"
"It's a difficult concept," she said. "But if you understand it early, the actual practice will make a lot more sense later."
He nodded, confidence slipping in around the edges. "How difficult can it really be?"
Aiva's smile turned faintly knowing. "It took Chloe five or six months just to lift objects her own body weight," she said. "And even then she still had to speak the spell aloud rather than cast it on instinct."
Adam's expression shifted, the easy confidence recalibrating into something more thoughtful.
Chloe made a sharp, frustrated sound. "You are embarrassing me."
"I'm giving context," Aiva said, unbothered.
She gestured toward the ground. "Sit."
Adam dropped down cross-legged without argument, his attention already fixed on her with a focus she had come to recognize.
Chloe lingered for a second, then sat as well, her posture still carrying a hint of resistance even as she settled.
Aiva adjusted her stance, then lowered herself to the ground across from them, she placed her staff in the air as if there was an invisible table only she could see.
The staff levateted there momentaraly before vanishing again as she took a moment to organize the shape of what she wanted to say.
This is the part I like,
she thought, a quiet warmth settling in her chest.
When it clicks.
She looked at Adam, then at Chloe, her gaze steady and attentive as the faint hum of the barrier held around them, sealing the night away.
Aiva drew in a slow breath, ready to begin.