# Chapter 4: Handcrafted Focus

Daniel slumped in his chair at the back of the classroom as the last of his classmates received their evaluations. Everyone seemed pleased with their results. Even though most scored in the Green Zone, they appeared content with their progress. Meanwhile, he couldn't shake his disappointment over his Blue Zone classification.

"That concludes our evaluations," Eliza announced as the final student returned to their seat. "You should all be proud of yourselves. Two weeks ago, most of you could barely lift a tennis ball. Now you're all showing measurable control and progress."

Daniel tried to focus on Eliza's words, but his mind kept returning to that single phrase: "the lower end of Blue Zone." He'd spent the past two weeks believing he might be special, only to find out he was, at best, slightly above average.

"Remember, these evaluations are not final judgments of your potential," Eliza continued. "They're snapshots of your current abilities. With continued practice and proper technique, many of you will advance further."

The class ended, and students began gathering their belongings. Daniel stood slowly, not eager to face the group's continued congratulations.

"Hey," Jasmine said, approaching him as he headed for the door. "A bunch of us are going for coffee to celebrate our evaluations. Want to join?"

Daniel hesitated. "I don't know. I'm kind of tired."

"Come on," she urged. "Blue Zone is something to celebrate. Most people would kill to reach that level after only a couple weeks."

He forced a smile. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass tonight. Need to process everything."

"Sure," she said, clearly disappointed. "See you Wednesday, then?"

Daniel nodded and left quickly, avoiding eye contact with the others. Outside, the evening air felt cool against his face. He started walking home, his mind churning with frustration.

Why couldn't he just be happy with Blue Zone? Why was he always searching for something more?

He knew the answer. His father had always called him a dreamer, never satisfied with ordinary life. "You've got your head in the clouds, Danny," he'd say, not unkindly. "The rest of us are down here on solid ground."

Daniel touched the crystal pendant through his shirt. Six hundred dollars for a sixty-dollar crystal. Just another reminder of his gullibility, his desperate need to believe he could be special.

When he reached his apartment, he tossed his keys on the counter and went straight to the refrigerator. He pulled out a beer, popped the cap, and took a long swallow. The crystal pendant swung forward as he tilted his head back.

With a sudden surge of anger, Daniel yanked the pendant off, breaking the clasp. He stared at the crystal in his palm—just a piece of polished quartz with a simple wire wrap. Nothing special. Nothing magical.

Except it did work. Even Eliza had confirmed it was a legitimate amplifier, just overpriced.

Daniel sighed and set the crystal on his kitchen counter. He'd need to fix the clasp if he wanted to keep using it. And he did need to keep using it. Blue Zone or not, he had to continue improving.

He finished his beer and headed to bed, setting his alarm for the next morning. No matter how disappointed he felt, he still needed to practice.

---

Tuesday passed in a blur of work and half-hearted practice sessions. Daniel found himself struggling to maintain the enthusiasm he'd felt before the evaluation. He fixed the clasp on his crystal pendant using a small piece of wire, but even with the repaired amplifier, his control seemed shakier than before.

By Wednesday evening, Daniel had almost talked himself out of attending the accelerated class. What was the point? He clearly wasn't as talented as he'd thought. But something—pride, stubbornness, or maybe just the habit of showing up—propelled him to the Lakeside Community Magic Center.

The accelerated class was smaller than usual. Only four students had shown up: Daniel, Jasmine, Marcus, and a quiet woman named Veena who rarely spoke but demonstrated impressive precision in her movements.

"Perfect," Eliza said as they settled onto their cushions. "A small group will work well for tonight's project."

She placed a large cardboard box in the center of their circle and began unpacking various items: crystals of different sizes and colors, metal wires and chains, small tools, leather cords, and several containers of what looked like sand or powder.

"After Monday's evaluations, I think it's time we discuss personal focus objects," Eliza explained. "Many of you have been using commercial amplifiers, like Daniel's crystal pendant."

Daniel felt his face grow warm as the others glanced at him.

"Commercial amplifiers are perfectly acceptable, but they have limitations," Eliza continued. "They're mass-produced, aligned to general magical frequencies rather than tuned to an individual mage's specific energy pattern. Tonight, you'll each create a personalized focus object."

She gestured to the supplies. "I've brought materials commonly used in focus crafting. You'll select components that resonate with your personal energy and assemble them into a unique tool."

Marcus raised his hand. "How do we know which materials will work best for us?"

"Excellent question," Eliza replied. "Most mages develop a sensitivity to magical materials with practice. For beginners, it often manifests as a subtle warmth or vibration when handling compatible components. Some describe it as a 'rightness' or innate recognition."

She picked up a clear crystal point. "Tonight, I'll guide you through the selection process. Let's begin with the primary focus element—usually a crystal, though some mages prefer metal or wood. Take your time handling each option. Trust your instincts."

She passed around a tray of various crystals—clear quartz, amethyst, citrine, smoky quartz, and several Daniel didn't recognize. Each student took turns picking up different stones, holding them briefly before moving to the next.

When the tray reached Daniel, he hesitated. His overpriced pendant was clear quartz. Should he just stick with what he knew worked?

Sighing, he picked up a piece of amethyst first. It felt cool in his palm, pleasant but unremarkable. Next, he tried a smoky quartz point. Again, nothing special.

His hand hovered over a dark blue stone that seemed to catch the light strangely. As his fingers closed around it, a surprising warmth spread up his arm. The stone seemed to pulse gently against his palm, almost like a heartbeat.

"Oh," he said involuntarily.

Eliza looked over with interest. "Found something that resonates?"

Daniel nodded, staring at the blue crystal. "This one feels... alive somehow."

"Interesting choice," Eliza said, moving closer. "That's sodalite—not commonly used for telekinetic focus work. May I?"

Daniel reluctantly handed her the stone. She examined it briefly before returning it. "Sodalite is typically associated with mental clarity and intuition. The fact that it resonates so strongly with your telekinetic ability is unusual."

"Is that bad?" Daniel asked.

"Not at all. Focus objects are highly personal. Traditional associations don't necessarily dictate individual compatibility." She gestured to the tray. "Try a few more, just to be certain."

Daniel did so, but nothing matched the immediate connection he'd felt with the sodalite. After everyone had selected their primary focus element, Eliza brought out smaller trays containing metal components, secondary stones, and binding materials.

"Your focus object needs a conductive element to help channel your energy," she explained. "Silver and copper are most common, though aluminum can work for some mages."

Daniel picked up several metal wires, surprised to find that a thin strand of copper created the same warm response as the sodalite. Once again, Eliza commented on his selection.

"Copper with sodalite is an uncommon pairing," she said. "But if it resonates with you, that's what matters."

As they continued through the selection process, Daniel found himself increasingly sensitive to the materials. He could immediately tell which powdered minerals felt right when sprinkled on his crystal and which binding agents created the strongest connection.

By the time they moved on to the actual crafting phase, Daniel had assembled a collection of components that Eliza described as "eclectic but potentially complementary."

Following Eliza's instructions, Daniel carefully wrapped his sodalite crystal with the copper wire, incorporating small beads of hematite and moonstone at specific points. He mixed a binding agent from beeswax and one of the powdered minerals, using it to secure the components together.

The work was detailed and took considerable concentration. Daniel became so absorbed in the process that he barely noticed time passing. When Eliza finally announced they had ten minutes to complete their projects, he looked up in surprise.

"Remember," Eliza said as they worked on the final touches, "the physical construction is only part of the process. As you complete your focus object, try to maintain awareness of your magical energy flowing into it. This initial imprinting will strengthen your connection to the tool."

Daniel wrapped the final coil of copper wire around his sodalite, securing it with the binding agent. As he held the completed focus object in his palm, he closed his eyes and concentrated on channeling his energy into it, the way Eliza had taught them during meditation exercises.

The response was immediate and powerful. The focus object seemed to grow warm, vibrating subtly against his skin. When Daniel opened his eyes, he gasped. The sodalite appeared to be glowing faintly from within, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

"Eliza," he called, his voice unsteady. "Is this normal?"

She came over to examine his creation and raised her eyebrows. "That's quite a strong reaction. May I?"

Daniel handed her the focus object. As soon as it left his hand, the glow faded.

"Interesting," Eliza murmured, turning it over in her palm. "The construction is unorthodox but effective. You've created strong pathway junctions at each hematite point." She handed it back to him. "Try using it."

Daniel held his new focus in his left hand and concentrated on a tennis ball resting on the floor nearby. The ball rose smoothly into the air, faster than usual, and hovered at eye level. He found he could manipulate it with remarkable precision, directing it through a series of complex movements that would have been challenging with his crystal pendant.

"Well done," Eliza said, watching his demonstration. "Now try something heavier."

She pointed to a ten-pound weight in the corner of the room—the upper limit of what Daniel had managed during his evaluation.

Daniel focused on the weight. With his crystal pendant, this would have required intense concentration and would have left him sweating with effort. But with his new focus object, the weight rose steadily, with only moderate strain.

"Try fifteen pounds," Eliza suggested, pointing to a larger weight.

Daniel shifted his focus. The fifteen-pound weight rose, not as easily as the lighter one, but still manageable. He couldn't believe it.

"Twenty?"

He attempted the twenty-pound weight. This time the strain was significant, but he managed to lift it several inches off the ground before having to set it down.

"Remarkable improvement," Eliza said. "Your new focus seems to be amplifying your abilities far more effectively than your commercial pendant."

The other students had completed their own focus objects and were testing them with varying degrees of success. None appeared to be experiencing the dramatic improvement Daniel was showing.

"This is incredible," Daniel said, grinning as he easily juggled three tennis balls telekinetically. "It feels completely different from the pendant—like the energy is flowing naturally instead of being forced."

Eliza nodded. "That's the advantage of a personalized focus. It's tuned to your specific magical signature."

As the class wrapped up, Daniel carefully placed his new focus object in his pocket. The sense of disappointment that had plagued him since Monday's evaluation had been replaced by renewed excitement. Maybe he wasn't stuck at the lower end of Blue Zone after all. With his new focus, he might be able to advance more quickly.

While the others packed up their supplies, Daniel approached Eliza.

"I wanted to ask you something," he said. "During the crafting process, I noticed I could feel which materials worked best almost immediately. Is that normal?"

Eliza considered his question. "It's not uncommon, but it is somewhat unusual for a beginner to show such clear sensitivity. Most new mages need more time to develop that awareness."

Daniel's excitement grew. "So this could be some kind of special talent? A secondary ability?"

"It appears you have a degree of material sensitivity," Eliza confirmed. "It's a useful secondary ability, particularly for crafting and enchantment work."

"Is it rare?" Daniel asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Eliza smiled gently. "Material sensitivity appears in approximately one in eight mages to varying degrees. It's more common than elemental manipulation but less common than enhanced perception."

"One in eight," Daniel repeated, the familiar feeling of deflation returning. "So about five hundred thousand people have it."

"Roughly, yes," Eliza said. "It's certainly above average, but not extraordinarily rare."

Daniel nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. "Still, it's helpful, right? Having this sensitivity?"

"Absolutely," Eliza assured him. "It's a valuable ability that can enhance your magical practice in numerous ways. The focus object you created today demonstrates that clearly."

After Eliza left to help another student, Daniel stood examining his new focus object. The sodalite stone caught the light, its deep blue color shifting slightly as he turned it. Five hundred thousand people had material sensitivity. Better than average, but far from unique.

He should have expected this by now. Every discovery about his magical abilities followed the same pattern—initial excitement followed by the realization that he was just one of many.

As he left the center, Daniel mentally updated his list of magical attributes: telekinesis (shared with millions), above-average control (lower end of Blue Zone), and now material sensitivity (one in eight mages). Just another moderately talented individual in a world full of magic users.

Yet as he walked home, the focus object in his pocket seemed to pulse with warmth, reminding him of the moment it had glowed in his hand. Maybe his created focus was better than his crystal pendant. Maybe it would help him improve faster. At the very least, it was something he had made himself, not something he'd been tricked into buying.

Daniel added "material sensitivity" to his growing list of magical talents—perhaps not extraordinary, but his nonetheless.