As if on cue, someone else’s dusty thoughts began to surface in my head: "To teach another requires more intelligence than to learn oneself..."

  "Dammit," I grumbled, running my fingers through my hair. "Who even came up with that? Some bore?"

  I stood at our stone basin and began to methodically dip my hand into the water and lift it. Over and over. I tried to catch that exact moment when mana hooks onto the molecules. But for me, it was too simple. It was a reflex. And how do you explain a reflex? It’s like trying to teach someone to blink on a schedule.

  I sat on the ground, feeling absolutely worthless.

  I am a disgrace to the teaching profession, I informed a tree.

  I can level a mountain, but I can't pass knowledge to one stubborn Cloudy. Hopeless.

  At that moment, Cloudy stood up. She walked over silently, unceremoniously nudged me away from the basin with her shoulder, and dipped her palm into the water.

  Stolen story; please report.

  She lifted her hand. Transparent streams flowed down her skin as usual. I was already bracing for another round of insults when suddenly...

  At the very tip of her index finger, a drop gathered. It should have fallen. Gravity was already pulling it down. But the drop... froze. It trembled, changed shape, but stubbornly clung to her finger.

  I jumped up like I’d been stung and started hopping joyfully around the basin.

  "YES! YES! GOT IT! YOU DID IT! NICE ONE!"

  I was screaming as if we had just repelled an attack by an entire army, rather than held onto three milliliters of water. And then I froze.

  Wait a second... I thought, stopping. Why am I so happy? This is her success, not mine. I should be maintaining the persona of a mysterious and cold master. But why do I even think like that?

  I glanced at Cloudy.

  She didn't even smile. She simply shook off the drop, turned around, and walked silently into the shelter to eat meat. Her entire demeanor showed that this was merely a tiny step, and there was nothing here to celebrate.

  She continued to methodically shove her hands into the basin between snacks, while I sat on the threshold, propping my chin on my fist.

  "Alright, then," I muttered. "The first barrier is breached. But what next?"

  Options began to swirl in my head again. Now that she felt the "grip," we needed to move on to form. Or movement? Or maybe force her to create water out of nothing, without the basin?