I am in legacies

As the Salvatore School came into view, Jacob couldn't help but marvel at the colossal structure that loomed before him. Dr. Saltzman cheerfully announced their arrival, and Jacob, still in awe, stepped out of the car, his eyes wide with amazement. "Wow," he exclaimed, taking in the grandeur of Salvatore School. Hope appeared next to him " welcome to Salvatore school " she said, Jacob turned to her and was about to say something but he noticed she seemed sad and a lot more pissed off, but, more so sad. 

"Must be because of that landon guy" he thought. But when he snapped back to reality to talk to hope, he found that Hope was long gone. He looked around but no luck.

Dr. Saltzman's voice cut through the moment, offering a formal welcome to Salvatore School of the supernatural or gifted. The weight of the title settled in as Dr. Saltzman invited him to follow, leading Jacob into the unknown halls of this extraordinary institution.

Jacob followed Dr. Saltzman into the school, still glancing around to see if he could spot Hope. The school's interior was just as impressive as its exterior, with towering ceilings and a grand staircase leading to various hallways.

As they walked, Dr. Saltzman filled Jacob in on some basic information about Salvatore School. "We cater to supernatural and gifted individuals here. It's a safe haven for those who are different. Our goal is to provide education and guidance to help students harness their abilities responsibly."

Jacob nodded, absorbing the information. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was bothering Hope. He decided to ask Dr. Saltzman, "Is everything okay with Hope? She seemed upset when we arrived."

Dr. Saltzman sighed, "Hope's been through a lot. It's been a challenging time for all of us. We try our best to support each other here, but sometimes, personal issues can be overwhelming. Let's focus on getting you settled in for now, and we can address any concerns later."

They continued walking through the school, passing by classrooms, a library filled with mystical books, and a training room where students were practicing their supernatural abilities. Eventually, they reached Dr. Saltzman's office. As they entered Dr Saltzman's office, two figures were already present—a middle-aged black man and a woman, giving a teacher vibe.

Dr. Saltzman introduced them with a flourish, "This is Dorian, our librarian, and Emma Tig, our school guidance counsellor, and she's also a witch."

Jacob raised an eyebrow at the inclusion of the 'also' in Emma's introduction. "Okay, don't know why you had to include the 'also' part, but whatever. Hey, I'm Jacob Welton, a warlock," he declared, embracing his magical identity.

"A warlock!" echoed both Dorian and Emma in surprise.

Dr. Saltzman, observing their reactions, inquired, "You know what it is?"

Dorian delved into history, "Throughout history, warlocks were associated with mages that practice dark arts or make pacts with otherworldly beings."

Emma added, "Yes, unlike witches, who draw their power from the land, warlocks do not."

Dr. Saltzman's curiosity peaked, "Ooo, what source do they draw their power from?" But both Dorian and Emma remained silent, signifying their lack of knowledge on the matter. All eyes turned to Jacob.

"We draw the power from ourselves," Jacob replied confidently, then fell into a silence, casting an ignorant look at the three adults, As if, him saying those words will explain all there is to know about warlocks.

A moment of awkward silence ensued, and Dorian was like " AND?"

Jacob let out a sigh, and elaborate further. "Unlike witches," he began, his gaze shifting between the attentive trio, "Unlike witches who tap into the natural mana inherent in the surrounding lands, warlocks take a more personal approach. We harness the world's mana, taming the raw energy and molding it into a potent force within our own dantian."

Dr. Saltzman, wearing a subtle apprehension, questioned Jacob's analogy, "So, you're essentially battery charging yourselves?" The metaphor seemed to grasp the essence of the warlock's power source, but the concept still hung in the air, waiting to be fully grasped.

"In simpler words, yes!" Jacob admitted, confirming Dr. Saltzman's analogy with a nod.

Emma, struggling to reconcile this magical reality with the limitations of the human body, raised another valid concern. "But, how's that even possible? Can your body really refine raw mana? And if so, won't you be limited in spells since a human body is pretty much limited?"

"Not necessarily," Jacob continued, breaking the lingering silence. His words carried a weight of revelation as he delved into the intricacies of a warlock's existence. "By constantly refining the raw mana of the world into our own source of power or magic, this energy, in turn, nurtures our cells. That, in turn, starts to help evolve our mortal body. We get strengthened in every way—our senses, strength, the ability to control our body aura, our lifespans, and even genetic attributes.. Everything is being strengthened. The more energy you are able to refine, the more benefits you get."

The room was cast into stunned silence. The trio of adults, Dr. Saltzman, Dorian, and Emma Tig, sat there with eyes wide open, their expressions a blend of disbelief and amazement. The profound implications of Jacob's revelation about the transformative power of raw mana on a warlock's physiology left them momentarily speechless.

Observing the impact of his revelations on his audience, Jacob sensed the need to demystify the concept of refining raw mana. "But that's only if you're able to refine it; refining raw mana is quite difficult. Almost all warlocks are unable to complete the initiation stage," he explained, introducing a touch of realism to the fantastical narrative.

Intrigued, Dr. Saltzman sought further clarification, asking, "What's the initiation stage?"

Jacob, now the de facto guide into the arcane world, responded, "It's the novice warlock rank, the beginning into arcane arts. Many struggle with controlling the mana once it's within their body, guiding it to their dantian and refining their internal domain. Once you fail to do that, the raw mana goes berserk. If lucky, it only destroys your nerves and some body parts. If not, it may attack your heart or some fatal organ, and you're dead. That's also the reason why warlocks are extremely scarce."

A heavy silence settled in the room, the weight of Jacob's words sinking in. Dr. Saltzman exhaled deeply, sharing a glance with Emma Tig. The gravity of the risks associated with warlock initiation was not lost on them.

Dorian, breaking the silence, questioned Jacob, "So which stage are you on?"

"Of course still the initiate stage. I'm only 17 years old," Jacob replied, a touch of smugness coloring his tone as he continued. "But I've already opened my dantian, so the hard part is done for me," Jacob added with a smug expression on his face. But no one blamed him; according to what Jacob said, this was essentially accelerating one's own evolution. Such an ability was, well, godly.

As his explanation hung in the air, a solemn hush settled over the room, the trio of adults contemplating the extraordinary nature of the supernatural world they had just been introduced to. The severity of the challenges faced by those who dared to tread the path of a warlock became palpable. The risks and the inherent dangers of manipulating raw mana underscored the rarity of individuals who successfully navigated the initiation stage.

Then Dr Saltzman thought of something, just as he was about to ask Jacob, Emma interjected, cutting off his inquiry. "That's enough. Jacob, since you've seen the school, would you like to join us?" she asked.

"Yes, better than being alone," replied Jacob, his decision made. With that, Dorian stepped forward, assuming the role of the gracious guide, and led Jacob to his new quarters. The air buzzed with the unspoken mysteries and potential that Salvatore School held for the young warlock.

In Dr. Saltzman's principal office, the weight of the recent revelations hung in the air. Just as Dr. Saltzman was poised to address Emma with further questions or thoughts, she insisted that he go see his girls, noting that they had experienced quite a rough day.

Back to Jacob in his new room, he stopped and looked at the big, nice, and comfortable bed. His hands trembled, and his eyes reddened and moistened. Unable to contain his emotions any longer, he leaped onto the bed, collapsing face-first. He buried his face into the mattress and let out a scream, a release of the pent-up emotions that had accumulated over the years.

After a while, he turned his face, looking up at the ceiling, tears streaming down his eyes. "Three years, three fucking years!!" he exclaimed in a mixture of frustration and anguish. "That's 94,608,000 seconds, 1,576,800 minutes, 26,280 hours, 1,095 days, 156 weeks, and 36 fucking months since I've seen or laid in a proper bed." The weight of the past three years pressed heavily on him as he recalled the hardships he had endured.

Anger surged within him, and he threw a tantrum. "Argh!!... It's that stingy old man's fault. I'm gonna report him for child abuse. He has to pay," Jacob declared, his eyes burning with desire for justice for the Jacob 3 years ago, frustration and determination mingling.

But then again, the past 3 years, it wasn't without its fruits. His mental panel materialized before his eyes, detailing the progress and achievements he had made despite the challenges:

[Name: Jacob Welton]

[Warlock Rank: Neophyte]

[Age: 17 years]

[Race: Human]

[Abilities: Magic, Super Analysis]

[Physique: Level 2 (2x stronger than a normal adult, enhanced senses, and reaction time)]

[Developed Skills: 

 - Mana Sensing

 - Rune Craft Level 1

 - Hunting Level 2

 - Fighting Level 2

 - Cooking Level 2

 - Medicine Craft Level 3

 - Herbs Identification Level 4

 - Strong Immune System Body Level 2]

Shortly after examining his progress, Jacob felt a sense of contentment. A few minutes later, the room was filled with the rhythmic, contented sound of his deep snoring. Jacob, exhausted from the emotional release and the events of the day, had succumbed to the embrace of a comfortable bed. Saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth, a sign of the profound slumber that enveloped him, carrying him into the realm of dreams and fantasies. In this peaceful state, the echoes of his tumultuous journey and the potential of a new beginning seamlessly merged into the tapestry of his unconscious thoughts.