Chapter 22: Trials of Thought
The next few days were a blur of motion, light, and sound. Luma had never felt so alive, and so overwhelmed, all at once.
Every corner of the Spire was alive with lessons, lectures, and experiments. Her days began early, before the bells signaled the first light of dawn. Elder Ion would usually appear with a small task or question, something to challenge her, something to test if she truly understood the concepts she had learned.
"Can you measure the change in momentum of an object moving across a frictionless surface?" he asked one morning.
Luma stared at him. "Frictionless? How is that even possible?"
Ion's eyes twinkled. "It's theoretical, but that's the beauty of physics. You don't always need to see it to measure it. Think about it."
She thought for a moment. "I need to figure out how to measure momentum first, right?"
Ion smiled and nodded. "Exactly. And you need to understand that the change in momentum isn't just a number—it's a relationship between the force applied and the time during which it's applied. Without friction, there's no resistance, so everything moves freely."
Luma's mind spun. "So… if nothing stops it, it just keeps going?"
"Precisely," Ion said. "That's why we study momentum—because it helps us understand how objects will move when forces are applied."
But she wasn't left to figure everything out on her own. After each lesson, Luma would often find herself back in the library, pouring over books with diagrams and notes. She became especially drawn to a section on Applied Physics, which included real-world examples that felt less abstract.
One evening, after hours of study, Luma found herself still poring over a thick book titled Vectors in Motion when a shadow fell over her table. She looked up to see Kira standing there with a friendly smile.
"I see you're not resting yet," Kira said with a raised eyebrow.
"I can't stop thinking about momentum," Luma admitted, pushing the book aside. "It doesn't make sense to me. If an object is moving without friction, it doesn't lose energy, right? So how does it stop?"
Kira sat down beside her, carefully looking at the page. "Momentum is tricky. It doesn't just stop unless something else interacts with it. But the question is, what happens if you decide to stop it? What force do you need?"
Luma's eyes narrowed. "So… you mean, I need to apply my own force to stop it?"
"Exactly. If you push against it, you're applying a force in the opposite direction—causing the object to slow down. That's the essence of impulse—applying a force over a period of time."
Luma sat back, finally understanding. "Impulse…" she whispered. "That's how we stop things, right?"
Kira nodded. "It's more than just stopping things. It's about change. If you know the force and time, you can determine how much momentum changes."
Luma smiled, feeling the pieces finally coming together. "This is… like magic. But real."
Kira laughed lightly. "Physics has its own magic. Just needs a little understanding."
Days turned into weeks. Luma's training became more intense as the Games drew closer. Every day she was forced to stretch her mind further, learning new concepts like angular momentum, conservation of energy, and circular motion.
There was one day when she was experimenting with an air cannon designed to launch objects at a high velocity—Ion had tasked her to find the angle that would launch a projectile the farthest. It was a simple exercise in projectile motion, but it felt like she was unraveling the secrets of the universe.
"You've done well," Ion said one evening as they stood looking at a distant, shimmering target. "But remember, every launch is just a small part of the larger picture. You can control the angle. But what about the force? The height? The trajectory?"
Luma nodded, her mind racing. The calculations behind projectile motion were more complex than she realized. She had to consider every force at play: gravity, air resistance, the force she applied. All of it mattered.
One evening, after a particularly frustrating day, she found herself walking in the Spire's expansive gardens, her thoughts a whirlwind of equations. She barely noticed the small group of students walking in her direction.
"Hey, you're the new one, right?" one of them called out. He had a sharp grin and wild, curly hair that looked like it had been styled by the wind. "I've seen you in the library a lot. You think you've got what it takes to compete in the Games?"
Luma turned, a little surprised. "I don't know. I'm still learning."
"Well, if you're serious about the Games, you should come meet with us tomorrow," the student said, his grin turning into a challenge. "We're doing a little experiment. Maybe we can help you with those equations you're always reading about."
Another student, a girl with short, spiky blue hair, gave Luma a once-over. "You'll need more than book smarts if you want to win, you know."
"I know," Luma said, her resolve hardening. "I'm ready for anything."