Many parents noble and less noble had successfully attended the Cinderfall entrance ceremony. It was a riveting rose parade of regalia and house banners. Horus Calburn was the fourth-year class representative who greeted us that morning. He was definitely older, had a square jaw, carried a voice that tremored the planks beneath our seats; and he was flanked by coats of arms that the students themselves had weaved; to the left of him, there was a scalene drythus, an autumnal bear, and a feathered drake. To his right, the fabled pegasus, a cerberus and a dragon carp.
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I still remember their faces, though not their names. Young, dark, pale, short, not so short, and tall. A blinding swathe of white with the fiery crest of a burning leaf dotting the landscape, to me an inescapable crowd of looming competition. The depths of our prospects and the anticipation loomed like heavy rain. There were, maybe, around six-hundred first years? Six-hundred first years in a school of more than three thousand. How does one keep track of that number?
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I remember Elise, I remember Warren, I remember that black-haired handsome boy, that red-haired, green-eyed princess; that tall blonde boy arrogantly growing a beard. And Madame Goiremen landed next to a pair of silver-haired twins. I could see no emotion on her face then either.
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Skinny kids, brawny kids, the magnificent and the meek. They were the children of men and mages, coalescing into a single uniform. Ours was a small army proudly sporting the burning cinderfall crest. How disciplined, how aesthetically martial, and how exciting! I lacked any awareness or cynicism like I do now. But at the time, to be a part of something so prestigious only happened in my dreams. I didn’t think I would see the arcane up close, or that I would spend time talking to mages, or that I’d be sporting the same uniform or sharing the same classes. None of that appeared before the horizon. I think it is still rare for an orphan to witness mages, let alone live among them. In a small, mute town such as where I grew up, you would rarely come across a crowd. But this? As I began induction into a legendary mage academy, I could barely withhold my emotions.
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So, they called our names, one at a time. Cinderfall’s official herald read from a long-winding scroll, a length of parchment that was rather comical. Yet I watched unflinchingly as the students strut up those steps and took their place at the great procession. One by one, they prostrated themselves at the head of the faculty and before the spectators—of which there were many. The next four years were bound to be an exalted journey into things most mortals could only dream about.
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And yet, slogging through bloody Crata annotations, I thought about whether the coming weeks would be equally tedious.
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Back at the entrance ceremony, there had been many promises. Before my stepping foot into the academy, I had heard of schools that decorate their ceilings with the illusion of a sky; meanwhile, ours flared with an entire ecosystem of ancient dragons: a dragon roost and fake lizards flying about within a lightning sphere. Could that have been what dragons really looked like?
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Extravagance could be no realer than a crowded great hall blasted by major oratories and thunderous applause. The autumnal banners of the academy and the golden wreathes of Imperium, high above the banquet, gave the assembled line of faculty more gravitas. And among those tidy instructors, I saw a face that resented being there. I could already tell then that Maister Calum would serve up no nonsense. So, at the great dining tables, we first-year students waited. We were honored as Cinderfall newcomers chosen from various estates, some esteemed, most of us judged solely on magical ability and potential. I’d like to think so anyway. Our induction came with the promise of many fantastical days ahead. And yet, these daily routines felt uninspired, and I was beginning to think that arcane pursuits would be as unrewarding as life so far. In other words, work, work, work, work, work. However, work is far preferable to survival.
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"Pollux!"
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Oh, no, I got lost in myself again. I lifted my chin to Instructor Ludwig.
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"Are you in your head or possessed? If ‘tis the latter, I cannot let you leave this classroom. I am sorry.”
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"No, it’s just my head. Apologies, Sir Ludwig."
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"Very well. Understanding the ecosystems of monsters is not only important, but also advantageous. So, try not to daydream."
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"Of course. My apologies."
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Thinking back, every lecture… most lectures had their own charm. Perhaps it was because Ludwig wasn’t shy. He had a penchant for scary stories. A life spent hunting things that go bump in the night lends itself well to grim monologues, I suppose. And he was not afraid to spare a few extra details; he resented brevity, in fact. “Lives at the cost of comfort is a bargain,” he would say.
***
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Herbalism, too, I felt was an underrated corner of academia. Did you know that blade leaf silver stems, when combined with wight extract, make ghost repellent? So long as the measurements are correct, the liquid should bear a glitter effect. I tried it. Here we go I thought to myself. Three wands of silt, a ring of weeds, and seven bees. There it was. And what a surprise; it even had a purple tinge to it.
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"Well done, child," Madame Winnego lauded, beaming over my shoulder with those buggy yellow beads. "The strength of that color speaks to its potency. Use it to coat an object and 'tis likely to banish a ghost from this realm.
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"Well, goodness, I supposed I slew that assignment."
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"With flying colors, no pun intended, agagaga. You may become a master herbalist one day."
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My smile almost faded at that comment. To become an herbalist… There’s something I had never considered. Not once. In fact, there were many things I had never considered, many occupations outside the Maister. Day by day, Cinderfall Academy wanted to pry my eyes open a little more. But it could have been the case that I was meant for a career outside of my dreams. If the arcane did not accept me, there were fair professions in lieu of returning to the orphanage. Any other hand would have been better than the one originally dealt me. In slowly sinking through the past, my thoughts wandered to my brothers and sisters before I realized that life wasn’t so bad…
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Memories of an old, shabby hovel on the side of a dirt road. My brothers would dally by the cobbles, eager to muddy themselves in a bout. But the mothers would never allow it. Bathing was a labor, true, but the elements were unpredictable, unforgiving even to a bunch of kids cloistered in a small building. On my way to Arcane Admonitions, my legs felt slightly heavier than normal
Wouldn’t you know, Arcane Admonitions was overflowing with information I already knew. Let me tell you why. As a lass trying to escape the ruckus of more than a dozen rowdy siblings, seclusion was my best friend, and reading was my gift. Over several years, I met many travelers who found respite by the chapel. That's how I met traders, journeymen, and public officials; they took a liking to us. They were kind. Some of them brought special gifts for the orphans. Exotic things. I remember once, a fancier-clad gentleman brought these tiny cubes that would melt sweetness in our mouths. But anytime—every time they asked what I wanted from the world beyond, I asked for books. Would you like a gift? I want a book. Need a favor? Give me a book. You bored? Book. So, I already knew about Mara crystals and their connection to the ethereal realm. I already know about the importance of breath and the diaphragm during incantations. I already knew about conduits: wands, staves, etc. Some of those travelers would ask for less savory favors. Only hindsight could tell me how heinous those favors would have been. The question now is, what favors would I perform to get some true arcane lessons out of our teacher?
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"Is there a list of spells we can practice on our own?"
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The young Maister Rorke blinked in my direction. "Madame... What was your name again?"
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Grr. "Lux."
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"Madame Lux. 'Tis imprudent to endeavor spells at this stage."
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"But why is that?"
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He sighed, probably inkling to say more than a teacher could, but all he said was, "One cannot build a castle without a foundation, especially a castle of magic."
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"Well then, say we come face to face with something that’s not a bitter metaphor. Perhaps a dark mage?"
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His brow rose with the most cynical gaze."A dark mage?"
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"Yes, a black caster. Conductor of forbidden arts? Apostates?"
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"I know what a dark mage is, Pollux."
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"Then why aren't we preparing for one?"
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"Apostates do not attend imperial academies."
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"Ehp. What if they did?"
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"I beg your pardon?"
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"Well, what if some awful caster took it upon themselves to surprise attack an unsuspecting village? There would be no warning. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a surprise. See, the way a surprise attack works..."
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"Again," he cut off, "I know what that is, Pollux. "Whatever you may believe, I am not an oaf. There is no utility in serving these hypotheticals. Not in thy years, so why persist? Eager as you are, eagerness is no grounds to circumvent curriculum."
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"It couldn't hurt..."
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"Yes, it could! That is what I am trying to explain, in vain!"
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Sigh. "Entire books dedicated to magic practice, and the student gets dillwoad?"
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"We are the subjects of a venerated system, that of Cinderfall Academy. You cannot break centuries of tradition."
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"Then how did you succeed?" I sounded too bitter as I asked that.
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"As anticipated," he muttered under his breath. Those unnecessarily handsome eyes rolled and went ahead to inspect me with the prick of a thousand needles. "Your predilections are yours, Madame Lux, but do not mistake zeal for virtue in the arcane pursuit. It betrays wisdom, and the wise expect traps in overzealousness."
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Sigh. I hunched over my desk and planted my cheeks on my palms. Overall, this was a poisoned attempt to break the mold. As I sat back, Maister Wilhelm took a deep breath before carrying on with the lecture.
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"Now, hand signs in incantation can be just as crucial as enunciation..."
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Maybe it would have been for nothing anyway.
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"The physical gesture helps align the humors of the caster… so it is said."
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Maybe, I wasn’t the only person ever to be disappointed by an education. Maybe, I’m impatient… There was naught to do but wait for school life to match the fantasy in my head. More important than anything, I had to keep my position on the alumni roster. High emphasis on keep. Four more years. I had to achieve high academic standing for four more years, without rocking the boat. I couldn’t bribe magic lessons out of anyone with my broke rump. 41Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8kfjrwEUyr
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and then Add to home screen.