by Daniel Ruth
Although it was close quarters, nothing we did needed much room. My study and refinements of my circles and wards were temporarily on hold until I could get a more permanent laboratory. None of us used the bathing rooms. The rooms with built in baths were more expensive and I doubt they would have been comfortable using them with me in the room. We still kept ourselves fresh with rather frequent applications of the elementalist’s dirt cleaning spell. Frankly, I couldn’t wait to get the mage equivalent from the school. If I could wrangle it, of course. While not filthy, I had to constantly resist the urge to scrub the floor and wash the sheets. I was adamant in my pride of course. While I will keep my own lair clean and in tiptop condition, there is no way in hell I would clean a stranger’s home.
On the evening of the second day, we approached the city of Gildorn. It was the capital of the country and was, by far, the largest of the cities we had ridden by. Through the windows of the carriage, I could see the streets fill with other coaches, pedestrians, cows, horses and even a few griffins. The average building size also gradually rose from two stories to upwards of five.
Given my experience with low-tech cities, I was surprised at the lack of odor. Either they had real sewers or they had elementalists burn the streets and gutters clean. The inns we had stayed at actually had bathrooms with plumbing and toilets, so I would bet they had real sewers. I was slightly relieved. I would have suffered through it, but now I didn’t need to.
We finally came to a stop in the city. A moment later the door opened and the sound of a bustling city flooded through. Grexor looked through the door with a smile.
“Welcome to Gildorn!” He gestured behind him enthusiastically. It had probably been a long ride for him since he lacked our creature comforts. “We’ll stay in an inn one more night and in the morning I’ll take you to registration. Then the acting principal will give a rousing speech and they’ll settle you into your housing.”
“Why not the principal,” I took the opportunity to ask. Holland gave me a warning shake of his head, which I ignored.
“We don’t talk about the principal,” the grizzled driver said flatly. “The acting principal has handled everything for the last ten years and will doubtless do so for the next ten.”
“Why don’t they get a new...” I started before I was interrupted.
“Will my registration and introduction be in a different place?” Holland asked, nervously glancing at me. I stared at him with a frown. I really needed to find out more about the principal.
“Not at all,” Grexor replied. Apparently, he was relieved in the change of subject as well. “I was serious before when I said the Royal Academy and the Runic Glyph School was functionally the same. You will be led to different dormitories, but the rest will be the same. Anyway, come on out.”
We immediately piled out, each one of us happy to be able to stretch our legs. I saw Stella walking into the building we were next to, probably to get our room. The daylight was already dimming and floating globes of glowing energy dotted the streets around us.
Looking up in the sky I noted it wasn’t at all empty. Various flying mounts flitted to and fro, mostly pegasus and griffins. There were also flying coaches, each painted in fanciful colors. They obviously belonged to the city’s elite. Most notable to me was formations of mages patrolling the air high above us. They were clearly mages from the formal robes they wore and the staves or other foci they wielded. They also flew with no other aids except spellcraft.
At this point, I heard a low thundering off in the distance. Looking in that direction, I saw a familiar sight. Stretching like a wall of vibrant energy was a ley line. Like the ones in our world, this one was energized through massive amounts of excess life energy. So overflowing was it that it rose a mile in the sky and almost lit up the city by itself, making the floating globes almost seem superfluous. Still, the noise was not the ley line. It actually appeared to be a long winding train. It approached the city, following the wall of energy and as it moved lightning would flow from that glowing wall to rods inlaid on the train’s skins, where it would be absorbed. It was this that was likely powering the flying train.
I whistled silently to myself in appreciation. I had put up some wards to help dissipate and control the surges of energy that was natural along ley lines as active as these. This was far beyond what I could do. They were actually channeling this energy into powering devices. Likely similar means were used to power the globes and doubtless countless other devices throughout the city. I had no idea if the power was distributed by a central company or the government or each household had a device to channel this energy, but it impressed me.
This was what a city... no, a country of mages could do. My own home had mages in abundance. Mostly, they were a ragtag gathering of dimensional castaways, expelled by the random portals that appeared throughout the world at the nodes. But as many as we had, they weren’t really organized. They practiced their magic, participated in the militia and sold their services on a barter type basis. As many as there were, they hadn’t impacted much. Here I saw what organization and rational planning could accomplish. It was eye opening.
It also made me pretty annoyed at the mages that had mind controlled the leaders of the world and then hidden away and watched it burn.
The next morning began earlier, as Grexor took us all to the registration building. Here we stood around for a few hours waiting in line with several hundred other new students. Most seemed to be around ten, although there were a few older people registering. I saw a handful of teens and two adults. They looked uncomfortable to be surrounded by children but determined. I mentally gave them kudos. It’s never too late to learn something new.
At the table, we argued a bit with the recordkeepers.
“Your paperwork specifically states one guard, one ‘whipping boy’ and yourself, Duke Ponzi.”
“My majordomo is quite the character. Call Me Derek.”
“Your paperwork says, Duke Ponzi.”
“Derek is my middle name. Call me Derek. Duke Derek, if you must include the title.”
“Leaving out the title is fine. Once you register you can’t use your title anyway. It’s your name. It says, Ponzi.”
“Hold up, it says in the eleventh amendment that the student can choose a shortened version of his name,” Beth said flipping through the application form to the last quarter of pages. Since the application was an inch think I was somewhat taken aback. I glanced blankly from Beth to Stella. Stella shrugged.
“Derek is not a shortened form of Ponzi,” the clerk said tiredly, rubbing his forehead.
“Are you really going to argue with me that in my own dialect Derek isn’t short for Ponzi? Even if it wasn’t the case, as Duke I could issue a decree.”
“Doesn’t your father issue the decrees?”
“Does it say Duke or not on my paperwork?” I said, starting to get annoyed. “I don’t question your qualification to fill out forms, don’t question my ability to make decrees!”
“Fine.” He sighed resignedly. “Your official name is Derek. What about your whipping boy?”
“Well obviously, my chancellor made a mistake? Who uses whipping boys in this day and age?” Several of the more well-dressed children looked around uncomfortably.
“I thought it was your majordomo?”
“We’re a very small kingdom.”
“What? Your kingdom is the third largest on the continent!”
“Compared to yours. I’m trying to be humble, keep up man.”
“Well, whatever she is, not only does it not match the paperwork but you can’t enroll a whipping boy.”
“She’s not a whipping boy she’s my play...”
“I’m his study partner, as allowed to minor royalty in appendix 6, paragraph twenty.” The clerk, Stella and I all looked at Beth again.
“Yes, exactly. My study partner. No Duke should leave home without one.” The clerk rubbed his forehead again in frustration but dutifully filled in the boxes
.
“Now about your elf guard...”
“I am not a damn elf,” growled Stella, her cheerful expression instantly transforming. I stepped slightly back, out of Stella’s direct view and tapped my temple while nodding at my companion. I also exerted a slight mental force on the clerk. It probably wouldn’t help his headache.
“Fine. What are you then?”
“Álfar. Put down ‘Álfar’.”
“Halfar. Got it.”
“Álfar!” Stella’s strident voice rose and her nailed gouged deep tracks in the table.
“Sure! Got it!” The poor man’s voice rose in pitch, as he scratched out his error and rewrote it.
Finally, Stella gave a nod and a brilliant smile shown on her face. “There we go. All better!”
“Here are the available classes and lab courses. Please review the ones you’re eligible for and submit the checklist to your housing manager,” the man dourly spat out.
“Not you?”
“Definitely not me.”
As we walked away with the class descriptions I leaned over to Beth. “How did you know all that?”
“While you were doodling and ignoring us, I was trying to milk them for what they knew. Clarence may be annoying and arrogant but he knew his stuff and had the paperwork to review. Besides, I’m used to dealing with arrogant people.”
I looked over to Stella and whispered back, “She’s not that bad once you get used to her.”
We sat on the bench, with the pamphlets and catalog in between us going down the list. Stella sat to side tapping the ground and cocking her head as if listening to something. I did my best to ignore her.
“Put us down for ‘Basic Spell Preparation’, ‘Elementary Spellcraft’ and ‘Mana Gathering’.”
“What about the history classes?” Beth asked, her brow furrowed in concentration as she poured over the classes.
“Bah, we can memorize the history books in a few hours in the library. No need to waste time in class over it.” I flipped back and forth through the pamphlets again. “This can’t be right. Where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
“The theory classes. These are all practical classes.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s moronic! That’s no way to teach mage craft to humans.”
“What do you mean by that,” Beth huffed, offended yet unsure why.
“Well, some species have an instinct for magic. Give us a few pointers a couple practical examples and we can understand the theory. Our memories guide us to what’s true or not. Humans don’t have this.” I dropped the catalog to the bench and sighed in exasperation. “These courses will teach you how to expand your energy reservoir, the bare minimum on touching the firmament and some rote spells.”
“So they can cast spells but won’t know why it works?”
“Basically. All schools of magic approach things differently so methods vary hugely but if you don’t teach anything at all, you’re going to be stuck with the spells you were taught and have no idea how to research more or even why yours work.”
“Maybe it’s not an accident,” Stella offered, temporarily stopping whatever she was doing.
“I don’t get it.”
“These are children. Not all are as responsible as our young Beth.”
“I still don’t get it. Beth is almost an adult. Do these humans age slower or something?”
“I think Beth may have exaggerated how mature a ten-year-old is.”
“Eight,” Beth muttered under her breath. I turned to her in thought.
“Well, it would explain why Jeremy was so annoyed. And also, all that garbage I found on the net.” I nodded to myself in understanding. “Still, Jeremy obviously started to agree with us about his sister.”
“That still seems a little odd.”
“Really? It was the most sensible thing Jeremy’s done in ages.”
“Anyway, by limiting the student’s initial creative potential the school controls what they can cast while still allowing their affinities and energy reservoirs to grow. When they are ready for more advanced classes, their bodies will be ready for the more powerful energies they need to wield.”
“I suppose that makes some sort of sense,” I picked up the catalog again. “But this curriculum goes on for years. Do they just feed them utility spells for five years and then finally start the real classes?”
“I see some offensive spell classes in the second year,” Beth piped in. She seemed unusually quiet during our conversation.
“Let me see,” I said as I looked over her shoulder. “Fireball, lightning, force fields. Bah, low grade or basic abilities. I would guess a human with only a year to build up their reservoir wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone too badly as long as they had a basic shield.”
“But I have a shield,” Beth pouted.
“Yours works on a different energy. I actually think it’s more efficient than most mages. But your psychic talents are actually a good reason to start the ‘Mana Gathering’ class as soon as possible.”
“Why?”
“Unless you’re a race that uses both psionics and magic, most mortal species have a tendency to have the other affinity atrophy once you begin using it.”
“So because I started your mind tricks I am crippling my magic potential?”
“They aren’t mind tricks,” I glared at her. “I stand by my decision to teach you. It’s the fastest and easiest way to build up the talents to keep you alive. Your advancement has been amazing for a human.”
“I hate being human,” she grouched.
“Now, now. You have some limitations, but we can work around them. Although your progress is amazing, you still only started focusing on your psionic talents. It’s still early enough that if you go to that class and work on expanding your magical potential you should barely notice any reduction.”
“And I can still do your psychic stuff too?”
I paused in thought, “As long as you spend each day working on both you should stay in balance. Your psychic growth may slow, but you have most of the tools you need to keep alive.”
Stella had zoned out again while I was talking to Beth. I glanced over to her and sighed. “Okay, I give up. What’s so fascinating?”
“Hmmm, oh I think a Yggdrasil root used to go to this location,” she shook her head sadly. “Nothing now, though. Nothing from the nine worlds here now.”
“Yeah, the new ten worlds have taken their place,” I replied. I had mixed feeling about being trapped in the ten worlds. On one hand, I was just as trapped before the barriers went up. On the other hand, now everyone else was just as trapped as I was. “Too bad you can’t make another Yggdrasil to connect the ten.”
“I haven’t been able to get the remains of the roots to grow. I could if I had a seed,” Stella said, tapping her feet idly. “Done right, it could thread its roots through the portals.”
“That sounds interesting but I’m not sure how that makes things better,” I said. “Other than connecting the worlds.”
“Well, it would control the energy fluctuations on those nodes the roots lay on, prevent demons from moving through the controlled portals and on a more selfish note, I would be able to move anywhere they passed.”
“Well, preventing an army from hell from invading sounds nice. I’ll keep an eye open for one,” I said with a smile.
“What’s a war wizard?” Beth’s question jarred us from our musing.
“Well, that could just be a generic name for a fighting mage. Let me take a look,” I offered, looking at the catalog again. “Oh, this is good. I didn’t know they had this here.”
Stella got curious at my interest and looked at the entry as well. “That looks risky. Don’t some mortals explode when they do that?”
“Only if it’s not done right. All right, Beth, this is your next class.”
“The ‘War Wizard Preparation’? What’s so great about it and why do people blow up?”
“As
suming I am reading this right, they are using a combination of alchemy and rituals to bind you closer to the firmament. If done incorrectly mortals explode from the overwhelming power surging through them.”
“And why would I want this?”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to be durable enough to wrestle with a shifter?”
“I’ve seen these things before,” Stella cautioned. “It does wonders for the durability and energy reserves but she’s not going to be wrestling anyone at ten years old. She’d need to get her full growth and start some serious physical training to do that.”
“But I could eventually?”
“It removes most of the limits a mortal has. Remember the main advantage supernatural and magical creatures have is their close affinity to the firmament,” I offered.
“At the risk of blowing up,” the elf reminded us again.
“Is this the kind of thing where they torture you for three days?” Beth asked hesitantly. I paused.
“Probably not,” I said with little confidence. “The process is for children. What kind of civilization tortures its young?”
“Not to panic you, but the school has disciplinary whippings and the students apparently often have whipping boys,” Stella chimed in.
“I don’t want to be tortured,” whined Beth.
“Well, I can teach you a discipline to suppress pain. As long as you have the mental energy reserves you wouldn’t feel pain.”
“Why didn’t you teach me that and do that three-day ritual you mentioned?”
“I can’t keep it up for more than a day, even if I don’t do anything else. You would run out in an hour,” I perused the syllabus for the class. “I wish I could go to the class first to see their methods.”
“Why don’t you?”
“They would see he wasn’t a basic mortal creature immediately,” Stella replied. “While I doubt they would know exactly what he was, it would be pretty obvious.”
“I might be able to change my aura a bit to make it look like I have already had the conditioning but why take the chance? Wait a minute,” I said with a smile. “The schedule says the conditioning runs the entire semester but each session is only two hours.”
