Day one of training with Professor Sirius began with incense, star charts, and a detailed philosophical rant about lunar tides and emotional displacement.
By hour two, Raphael's sword was halfway buried in a tree out of sheer frustration.
"Alright," Sirius clapped, barefoot again in the middle of the training circle, "today we embrace the Art of Astral Positioning. Which means—"
"—we're drawing chalk circles," Penelope grumbled, glaring at the elaborate spiral she'd been sketching for twenty minutes.
"Correct!" Sirius chirped. "But with purpose. You see, energy flows best through geometry aligned to starborne harmonics. If you fight within the pattern, the universe fights with you."
"Professor," Isolde said flatly, "I am not sure the universe knows how to swing a blade."
Sirius didn't seem to hear her. He was busy adjusting Raphael's stance. "Left foot slightly more southward—there, yes! That aligns your spine with the Orion declination. Feel the difference?"
Raphael did not.
