ThatGit
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GPCiMW Chapter 10
🕑 Added 2024-01-04 22:00:04 +0000 UTCIt was strange to see a place I had so many memories of and know I’d never been there before. Professor Highgarden had been teaching at Aglakok for nearly a century now and his classroom had barely changed in the scant two decades since my father’s first day of classes.
There was a new plaque on the wall behind his desk, joining nearly two-dozen neigh-identical plaques. I couldn’t read what it said from the doorway, but I didn’t need to to know it was another award for excellence in youth education. The enormous landscape paintings that had dominated the left wall of the room were gone, replaced by two portraits of unfamiliar wizards in archmaster robes and a finely woven tapestry depicting the Professor himself.
Other than that, it was exactly the same room I remembered, down to the way the books and pens were arranged on the Professor’s heavy mahogany desk. Four long tables with eight widely-spaced seats each faced the front of the room. The entire far wall was one massive blackboard, much of it already covered in diagrams, notes, and announcements, but with a large blank area at the center for today’s class. The floor in the room was slightly sloped, ensuring that each table had an unobstructed view of the board even when all the seats were filled.
At the front of the room was an intricately carved podium that matched the desk set in the far left corner. Professor Highgarden himself stood solemnly behind it, his long, graying hair pulled back into a topknot and a severe expression on his face. He was leaning heavily on the podium, deep in thought as he looked through a pile of papers, and was flanked by two kneeling, green-skinned goblins wearing heavy-looking gold collars and matching rings through their nipples and noses.
I had heard that Professor Highgarden’s coven consisted nearly entirely of goblins. They certainly looked well trained––goblins were notoriously difficult to tame even with a coven bond––but I would expect nothing less from a respected mage like him. If he had any disobedient members in his coven, he certainly wasn’t going to be bringing them with him around the school. That sort of thing reflected poorly on a wizard.
They were certainly attractive, but I personally didn’t really get the appeal. I think it was the height; I didn’t have anything against the green skin, and I could see the appeal of fuckmeat with breasts the size of their head, but goblins topped out at about four feet and that just didn’t do it for me. It was the same reason I doubted I would ever add a dwarf, gnome, or halfling to my coven unless I had a very good reason to do so. I already knew exactly which species of fuckmeat I was interested in.
Daphne gently tapped my side and I realized that I’d stopped in the doorway. I quickly moved out of the way, thankful that I’d arrived early enough that there was no one waiting to come in behind me.
Despite arriving nearly twenty minutes before class was due to start, Teveus had actually managed to beat me here. That explained why I hadn’t seen him at breakfast––he must have come down very early or possibly decided to skip eating to head straight to class. He waved me over and I happily joined him in the front row.
Unlike in the great hall, there was no special accommodation for my witch, so Daphne slipped silently under the table and lay her head down on my thigh. My hand automatically dropped onto her head and I began to gently stroke her hair as I turned to Teveus.
“Good morning,” I greeted, “I see someone’s excited.”
Teveus actually grinned back at me, the expression looking rather out of place on the typically rather serious young wizard. “Damn right I am! I’ve been looking forward to this day for ten freaking years, Severin!” He suddenly looked away awkwardly, cleared his throat, and then turned back to me, his face back to the impassive mask he often struggled to maintain. “Sorry. Yes. Yes, you can certainly say that I’m excited.”
I choked back a laugh and nodded seriously. “I see. Completely understandable.”
We maintained eye contact for several seconds and then both had to look away before we embarrassed ourselves. For all that he outwardly carried himself with the sort of composure my dad’s memories had taught me to expect from a house-raised wizard, Teveus seemed like a decent guy at heart and I appreciated his sense of humor.
I distracted myself by scratching a sensitive spot on the side of Daphne’s neck, making the girl melt into my lap. She moaned, the sound muffled almost completely by the large purple gag she was wearing. If she wasn’t going to be wearing a gag at night, she needed to make up for it during the day and this gag I’d found both matched her eyes and had roughly the same dimensions as the one in her ponywitch uniform.
Over the next fifteen minutes the classroom slowly filled up as our fellow first years trickled in. I was amused to see a number of students who had clearly rolled out of bed and rushed down without time for breakfast. Years of schooling in the mundane world had trained me to wake up early, but most of my classmates seemed rather unhappy to do so.
Kazuma arrived a few minutes before nine and, after a sleepy greeting to the two of us, slumped down into the other seat beside Teveus. I subtly glanced between him and his witch, both of whom looked rather worn out. It was easy enough to see what had been keeping him up.
Right behind him came one of the wizards I was going to have to keep an eye on. After Kazuma had told me about just how many house-born wizards there were in our year, I’d done my best to familiarize myself with who I actually needed to worry about. Daphne had helpfully pointed out a number of key individuals, but her knowledge was rather spotty when it came to nearly three-quarters of my year.
Irgam Olmount, designated heir of noble house Olmount, was absolutely someone I needed to keep an eye on. He marched into the room like he owned the place, wearing an air of superiority around himself like a cloak. He had his hands neatly folded behind his back and his nose held high in the air. A brilliant red jewel the size of my thumb that practically blazed with magic hung from one of his ears, half hidden in his shaggy mane of orange-red hair. From where I was sitting I could just barely make out the emblem of his house––an upside down mountain on an orange background––emblazoned on his chest.
He imperiously scanned the room, then snapped his fingers and pointed at the leftmost chair in the back row of the class. His witch, a skinny, meek-looking brunette with his house emblem freshly tattooed on her forehead and inner thigh, scurried towards the chair and pulled it out for him before settling on the floor beneath the desk in a fetal position.
He sat down, his back straight as a ruler, and scanned the room once more. Then he slouched back in his seat, kicked his feet up onto his witch’s shoulders, folded his arms over his chest, and looked up towards the ceiling with unfocused eyes. Apparently there was no one in the class worth impressing so he was just going to relax. Very rude. I barely knew anything about him and I already disliked him on principle.
With barely thirty seconds to spare, Wyll Jupitor––the boy who had run into Kazuma’s witch––rushed into the classroom. There was still plenty of room––the class had a limit of twenty students but the room had forty seats––but for some reason he decided that he wanted to sit next to the one person in the entire room who was predisposed not to like him.
He marched down the aisle, nearly tripping over one of the Professor’s goblins who was in the process of passing out textbooks, and plopped down gracelessly in the seat beside Kazuma, a wide, goofy grin on his face.
“Hey man,” he whispered loudly enough that a deaf merwoman could have heard him, “Kazuma, right? Sorry about that unpleasant business over the weekend.” He ruefully rubbed the back of his head. “I’m not the best at this whole ‘time management’ thing, you know?” He sounded sincere, but he also looked like an idiot so it was hard to say for certain. At least he had his clothing on properly this time.
Kazuma looked moderately displeased, but before he could say anything the Professor straightened and loudly cleared his throat, the sound amplified by magic until it echoed through the entire classroom.
The classroom fell silent in an instant, muffled conversations halting mid word as everyone––even the Olmount heir––turned to face our teacher. “Good morning class,” he greeted us softly, his voice warm and smooth to match the slight smile on his face.
“Good morning Professor Highgarden,” about half of us chorused back, our voices all mostly out of sync.
His smile widened a fraction of an inch. “Good, but I think we can do better than that. One more time now. Good morning class.”
“Good morning Professor Highgarden,” we repeated, and this time almost all of us spoke together.
“Wonderful! Now then, it's my pleasure to welcome all of you to your very first class here at Aglakok Academy for the Wizarding Arts. Out of the many thousands of young wizards who have reached their majority this year, each of you has been selected for your talent and potential to attend this prestigious place of learning. Though you come from many different places and have lived very different lives, for the next five years you are all united for the shared purpose of securing our society’s knowledge and traditions for centuries to come.”
Though I’d heard those exact words before more than a dozen times within the memories my dad had left me, there was something amazing about hearing them directed at me. I found myself hanging on to his each and every word, the soft, measured cadence of his voice drawing me in. Even Daphne, who had been slowly dozing off as I brushed her hair with my fingers, looked focused and attentive.
He continued. “Magic is the birthright of Wizards. No other race, witch or fuckmeat, can shape the might of our souls and bend reality to our will the way we can, and it is through that birthright that our race has emerged as the true masters of this world.
“A merwoman can swim freely through the deepest waters, see perfectly in near total darkness, and can command the lesser creatures of the ocean with a thought. A dwarf can easily lift five times their body weight, requires little food and no sunlight, and has a sixth-sense for finding the riches of the earth. A goblin,” he paused for a moment to rub the shaggy hair of the goblin kneeling beside him, “is quick and clever, can innately imbue items with various minor enchantments, and has senses as keen as those of a wolf.
“And what about a wizard?” He let the question hang in the air for a pregnant moment and then raised his arms up towards the ceiling. “Through spellcraft, a wizard can do all that and so much more. We are Wizards. We are the greatest of all races. We have conquered our limitations and made the strengths of others our strengths.
“We are not limited by the meager powers of our birth. We saw our limitations and shattered them. We looked those who would suppress us in the eyes and we cast them down! With careful study, meticulous preparation, and boundless creativity, a wizard can achieve anything they set their mind to!”
And then he let his arms fall back to his sides and some of the thunder that had momentarily filled his words faded away. “But there will be plenty of time for that later. Even the High Lords had to start somewhere, hmm? For now, before we move on to discussing this year’s curriculum and our textbook, I’d like to get to know all of you and where you currently stand. I’m going to ask some questions and when I call on you, please stand and introduce yourself to the class. Don’t worry if you don’t understand any of the questions or answers––all of it will be covered in the coming months and I always try to make myself available to students who may need a little extra help.”
“Are there any questions before we continue? No? Very good.” He clapped his hands together sharply. “Question one. Can anyone tell me what is a spell?” A number of hands throughout the class went up including mine. This seemed like an easy way to score points with my Professor and I knew that Professor Highgarden didn’t just offer help to students who were lagging behind the class.
“Very good, you in the second row,” he gestured towards the person sitting directly behind me and I twisted around in my seat to look.
“Uh, hello everyone,” he waved his hand, his cheeks tinged red from the sudden attention. “Um. My name is Lucus Rainridge and I’m really glad to be here. Uh, a spell is like, a bit of magic when you’ve put all the pieces together. If all the bits click together, you get like, an imprint of the magic on your spirit, and then it becomes a spell instead of just a bunch of bits that don’t do much of anything on their own.”
“Very good. Not quite the words I’d use, but you’re on the right track. How about you over there?
This time the student in question was sitting in the back row and he introduced himself as ‘Alexander Alexandrov, but please call me Sasha’. “A spell is a discrete mana construct that converts raw mana into a concrete effect or effects dependent on the components combined to create the spell,” he rattled off. “It consists of––”
“Wonderful, I see someone took the time to read their textbook before classes began,” the Professor said, cutting Sasha off before he could go any further. “However, that does segue us nicely into our next question. Can anyone tell me what one of the three primary components of a spell is and a little bit about it? How about you there in the front?”
I quickly stood up when I realized he was pointing at me. “Thank you Professor Highgarden and good morning everyone. My name is Severin Victus and one of the three primary components of any spell is form. Form is the general shape of a spell and can be created using countless different techniques, but some of the most common ones include words of power, hand gestures, and pre-prepared magic items like wands and staves.”
“Excellent. Let’s see who's next. How about…”
Professor Highgarden spent nearly half an hour quizzing us until everyone had answered at least one question, whether they’d raised their hand or not. Most of it was pretty basic stuff, but it was interesting to see how prepared, or mostly unprepared, my various classmates were.
Teveus easily answered a question about the third component of a spell, mass, and Kazuma spent thirty seconds rambling––mostly correctly––about what it meant for a spell to imprint on a wizard’s spirit. Wyll on the other hand completely fumbled his answer, confidently declaring that bonding more witches was the only way to make a spell more powerful––which it wasn’t. His answer drew an audible snort of derision from the slouching Olmount heir, which, while rude, I somewhat agreed with. It was a rather embarrassing sign of his poor prior education.
As we were finishing up, one of the Professor’s goblins came around again and deposited a thick stack of papers in front of each of us, setting it down on top of the textbooks that she had been passing out before the start of class. I was amused to see the papers held together by what was very obviously a perfectly mundane staple, just like the packets I used to see in school. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was expecting, but it was rather rare for wizards to so much as acknowledge the existence of mundanes, much less make use of their inventions.
Once everyone had a packet, Professor Highgarden used a spell to project the front page up in the air behind him. The next hour of the class was weird. Not because it was something I’d already seen a bunch of times in my dad’s memories, but rather because I hadn’t.
We meticulously went through his entire syllabus, discussing what topics we would be covering each week and what readings and homework were associated with each lesson. Between the printed packet, the ‘projector’, and the way everything was structured, it really did feel like I was just back at Green Rock High. Only the clearly magical subject matters gave any indication that I was at Aglakok and not a mundane school.
After we were done with the syllabus, we moved on to discussing the textbook. This was more like what I expected, a nearly six-inch-thick leather-bound monstrosity that I knew was the product of a specialized book-copying spell the Professor had developed. Fortunately the textbook had a very comprehensive index and I wasn’t the one who was going to have to carry it around too and from class. The arm workout would be good for Daphne, what with how much time she was going to be spending with them immobilized behind her back.
Only once Professor Highgarden was sure we all understood what we were going to be learning did he finally launch into our first lesson of the year. As I’d expected, it was about what exactly was a spell and the broad basics of how creating, casting, and refining a spell worked.
By the time the clock struck twelve and we were dismissed, I hadn’t really learned much, but I’d still hung on to each and every word the Professor had said and did my best to participate whenever he asked questions. Professor Highgarden was an amazing lecturer and had a way with words that made it impossible to ignore or discount anything he said. Though I wasn’t certain, I had a feeling that there was more than just skill and experience involved. There was no way a teacher famous for their proficiency with teaching spell casting and design didn’t have some spells to help things along,
Though he had been speaking for two entire hours and there was plenty more to say on the topic, when you really boiled it down spells were pretty simple, though each part contained nearly infinite levels of potential complexity. A spell consisted of three components: Form, Purpose, and Mass. First you created the general shape of the spell, then you imbued it with Purpose, defining what exactly you wanted the spell to achieve, and finally you charged the spell with your mana to give it the metaphysical mass needed to affect the world. If you did it right, the spell would imprint on your spirit, the outer portion of your soul, and then each subsequent cast would be easier as your magic grew more and more familiar with the steps needed to reproduce the spell.
Of course, this completely discounted how each component had to be perfectly balanced, the countless ways things could go wrong, and the difficulties of achieving and maintaining any one of the components separately, much less all of them simultaneously. For that reason, we wouldn’t actually be learning any spells until week six, and the Professor encouraged us not to mess around with anything until then so he could be there to catch us if we made a dangerous mistake. Oops I guess?
Comments
ElricFlairgold
We have now proven that the MC is no man of culture, for no man of culture would turn down shortstacks.
ThatGit
I enjoy exploring cool magic systems almost as much as I enjoy sexy elves. This one isn't quite as heavily developed as the system I have for WWDtS, but I have some interesting ideas for how everything is going to work!
ExodiaTheForbiddenOne
Nice intro to the magic system in this story
