AI Image: The heavy wooden doors of the Grand Library of Veridia creaked open. Leo, a fourteen-year-old with u

Prompt

The heavy wooden doors of the Grand Library of Veridia creaked open. Leo, a fourteen-year-old with unruly brown hair and a jacket two sizes too big, stepped into the dust-mote-filled air. Unlike the other students at the Arcanum, Leo didn't carry a wand, a staff, or a pouch of expensive glowing crystals. He only carried a worn leather notebook. In a world where magic was drawn from physical elements, Leo's magic was different. He manipulated Incantations-the literal, floating text of reality. "You're late, Leo," a sharp voice echoed. Master Charles, a senior mage with a silver beard that reached his chest, stood by a massive stone pedestal. Atop it sat the Aethelgard Core, a swirling orb of raw, volatile blue energy. "The sealing ritual begins in five minutes. Where is your focusing crystal?" Leo nervously tapped his notebook. "I don't use crystals, Master Charles. I told you, I shape the words." Charles sighed, rubbing his temples. "Words are for poetry, boy. Magic requires mass, energy, and conduits. If that core breaches, this entire wing collapses. Stand back and let the real mages handle it." Suddenly, the blue energy inside the core turned a violent, jagged crimson. The stone pedestal began to crack. "Back away!" Charles yelled, raising a heavy oak staff. "Ignis Protego!" A shield of fire erupted from his staff, but the crimson energy from the core lashed out like a whip, shattering the flames instantly. Charles was thrown backward, crashing into a row of booksh