“What attacked him?” Khemekheang asked, stroking his beard and looking at the youngest member of the school. He remembered him from orientation. Young Ignacius had faltered for a while when he first teleported here, but that wasn’t unusual. There was a surety to Ignacius, a casual confidence the other children lacked. Young Ignacius looked serene which surprised him, Khemekheang hadn’t realized the boy was tense during their brief interaction. Hmm, there was something about him. Something off. To Khemekheang, he felt more like a peer than a student.

“Onukss,” Nicholas greeted. “It’s hard to tell. The injuries are consistent with several lightning spells, but we’ve questioned his classmates and there were no signs of an attack. Mr. Huxley started convulsing and then fainted. And that thing,” Nicholas said, pointing at the black bant sitting on the boy’s chest. “Has been guarding him. It only allowed me to cast heal and a basic diagnostic spell. Anything more advanced was–neutralized.”

Khemekheang stroked the grey strands of his beard, looking at the odd creature. It was almost as strange as the boy. “Isn’t it a bant? Odd coloring aside.”

Nicholas had his hand crossed, staring the creature down. “It looks like a bant, sounds like a bant, but behaves like a rabid ank. Not to mention the trouble he brought with him. We’ve struggled to keep Cirdan out, and the students from the zoology department have been coming with increasingly severe injuries. Look,” said, pointing at the bant.

It stood on its hindlegs, bearing its teeth. “In all my eight hundred years, I have never. How interesting!” Khemekheang laughed, a booming sound that shook the ground beneath him. “At my age, it's so rare to see something new. And don’t try to fool my eyes, Nicholas. You just want to be at the forefront of any discoveries made.”

“I wish. The boys from this year’s Honor Group have an agreement to sell the information they have on the bant and split the profit.

Khemekheang held his stomach, head thrown back, booming laughter rattling the window panes. “An industrious year group. And what say you, will you take the bargain?”

“What choice do I have?” Nicholas grumbled. You know how important bants are to the church. I already contacted the cardinal and he’s approved a staggering price for the information. I tried to push through the sale while he was asleep, but all seven must discuss and agree on the sale. I won’t get as good a price if Mr. Huxley is involved.”

“I wonder if it will be worth the price. A joint project maybe.” Khemekheang sat, huffing a sigh of relief as the pressure on his knees eased. Khemekheang wasn’t sure what had Nicholas so concerned but he was content to wait the man out. Even as a student he’d been a hesitant boy, always overthinking. It made him a great healer, but a terrible chess partner. They’d been playing the same game for a year.

Nicholas sat opposite him. “I appreciate your attempt at inter-tower corporation but if Cirdan is involved the project will dissolve into chaos and we’ll never get anything done.”

“You two have never appreciated each other's research styles.” They’d been in different years for their bachelors, but were members of the same research group. Their arguments were legendary. “What about Croy?” Nicholas's eye started twitching. “Oh dear, that bad?”

He’s banned. Even after Mr. Huxley is discharged, I might keep him banned. It’s not that I don’t understand his enthusiasm. I can’t say I would react differently if he had the same talent for white magic. Mr. Huxley manifested his abilities so strongly that even Thalia was injured. It's the purest black mana I’ve ever seen, but I must stress caution. For someone so young, he’s full of blood lust. He’s killed, Onukss. Mr. Huxley has killed a lot. I can’t imagine why Lady Blythe would raise the boy this way.”

Khemekheang looked at the boy, trying to find answers to questions not yet thought of. “More than why is a question of where. Not to mention where.” Khemekheang couldn’t help chuckling when he remembered young Hendrix’s face when he called on the magic crystal ball.

“Headmaster,” Nicholas said, taking a deep breath.

Khemekheang sat straighter. Oh dear, this was becoming concerning.

Nicholas hesitated before finding his courage. “You’re underestimating the situation. He’s–He’s like the Vance boy but worse. They're predators, Headmaster. They’re killers in a school of pretentious snots who don’t realize they’re sheep.”

“I’ve seen young Vance fight–if I could even call it that. There was no training to his moves, only the instinct to kill using any means necessary.” All mirth was gone. Standing there was a mage who’d fought in wars. Khemekheang knew how hard it was to leave the battlefield and pretend to be normal. He wasn’t even sure he’d managed it. “Are you sure? He’s so–”

He jumped up and started pacing the room. “Mr. Huxley is covered in bite marks. At first, I thought wild animals had attacked him but the teeth marks were human. Then, I hoped he’d had a run-in with one deranged person, but they were all different sets of teeth. Onukss, I can't fathom a situation where something like that could happen. Chunks of flesh torn out.” Nicholas used his hand to latch onto his arm, clamping down and shaking like a starving dog that had sunk its teeth into meat. “Then there are these odd circular marks–like someone heated a rod and pierced his skin at high speeds. And, someone tried to eviscerate him, sliced open from neck to navel. Sol be with us, Onukss it was hard to look at him. I don’t know how Mr. Huxley isn’t dead. Even with his family’s healing abilities.” Nicholas slumped into his chair. His hand covered his face. It took him a moment, but he pulled himself together. “I’ve asked about him. By all accounts, Mr. Huxley is well-adjusted and sociable. He is not excessively friendly but is trying to make friends. His one use of excessive force was clearly an accident and he de-escalated the situation. It’s only been two days so it’s too early to judge.”

“That is far more concerning. You don’t survive what you’ve described and come out well-adjusted.” Killingworth was the only school still dedicated to producing battle mages in an era used to peace. Students were pushed past their limits, but it wasn’t done with wanton disregard for the student's lives.

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“Do you think he’s the inheritor?” Nicholas asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

“I’m not even sure there is anything to inherit. As headmaster, I know Ignatius Huxley’s temperament and legacy better than anyone else. I wouldn’t put it past our illustrious founder to fabricate an inheritance to keep his family fighting each other. Look what young Calix did to his sister! By the end of his life, Ignatius Huxley was disheartened by his descendants and how they behaved on the back of his achievements. That’s why he put a taboo on his last name, Huxley, and forced them to use his old family name, Caster. Young Ignacius will be targeted just for carrying the name Huxley. It will make him a better battle mage. That might be the only legacy that mattered to his ancestor.”

Nicholas didn’t look comforted. “Is he a threat?”

“To whom? He injured Thalia by accident, who is, by the way, the youngest member of staff with the least combat experience. Young Ignacius has done his best to integrate and, despite numerous taunts, has not lashed out. By all accounts, he’s a student who is here to learn just like the rest. No, maybe even more than the rest. His experiences will make him driven. Young Ignacius will not tolerate being weak. However, we don’t know what lies beyond his tolerance. Everyone has a breaking point and it’s best not to push his. I will speak to Old Boar about assessing his combat skills. We may need to separate him for combat classes.”

“Combat classes that are this afternoon and they have no idea about? Thalia took far too much joy in misleading them. I suppose it's revenge for what happened in her year. They were really a dreadful lot.”

“Thalia will do well as an educator and her playful nature will bring its own joys to the classroom. Young people understand each other.” Khemekheang could see that Nicholas’s worries weren’t assuaged, but maybe it was his nature or his training as a priest, Nicholas would always give others the benefit of the doubt. It was an admirable quality. “Nicholas, do you know what makes the strongest mages? Suffering. It creates an indescribable hunger in those who experience it. The effects of true suffering can’t be replicated. You won’t find it in a noble family’s strict tutelage and boys sent to bed without supper. The school’s curriculum introduces suffering to children whose lives were peaceful but it is a pale imitation.” Khemekheang took another look at young Ignacius whose sleep form had gone from serene to restless. “If given proper guidance and suitable resources he’ll be one of the best mages this school has ever produced. The effects that will have on his year group are yet to be seen. He’ll either motivate them or crush their spirits.”

“Headmaster–”

“I know,” Khemekheang said. “This information will stay between us. Wake him and return him to his class.” Khemekheang twirled his beard. “And keep me informed about the progress of the delightful creature.” The bant had snuggled into Young Ignacius’s neck and the boy had settled. “It seems he’s already found his familiar.” There was a tortured groan as Khemekheang left the room.

***

Fluffy’s incessant chirping woke Kaz.

“I’m trying my best to be respectful.”

Kaz’s thought Fluff’s answering chip sounded more like a hiss. He reached out to soothe the little thing. He didn’t understand the situation but knowing Fluffy was doing its best to protect Kaz.

Moving was a mistake. Everything hurt in a way Kaz wasn’t used to. He held as still as possible while trying to figure out what happened. He remembered sitting in class. They were talking about circles and layers.

Chirp.

Kaz looked at his chest. A black ball bounced around, making its displeasure known. He was being chastised.

“Good Morning, Mr. Huxley. You gave us quite a scare.”

Kaz looked over, taking in his surroundings. The room was stark–utilitarian. It looked like a hospital room Kaz had seen in an old movie. The walls were plain white and a scent of vinegar and herbs hung in the air. Narrow wooden beds lined the room. Their frames were simple and unadorned, each covered with a thin mattress. A pillow, a folded white sheet, and a blanket sat at the foot of each bed. Next to the bed was a stool and a small table. On the table was a small ceramic basin, a pitcher, a cup, and tools for basic hygiene. The soap made Kaz long for a long hot bath. His eyes lingered but moved on.

In one corner stood a cabinet with jars, herbs, and tools lining its shelves. Kaz knew what some were. Forceps and saws, but the purpose of others eluded him. The room was quiet with him as the only patient.

The room had similar gothic inspirations as the other building he’d seen, but this room was more like a cathedral with tall stained glass windows set high and letting in limited light. The light that did make it through the panes was muted. That couldn’t be right. There was no sun.

“The windows are enchanted. It can be lighter or darker if the spell matrix is adjusted.”

So, the fantasy version of a light bulb. “I’m very calm,” he said, having not reacted at all to a stranger looming over him.

“Another enchantment,” the man said, sitting on the stool at Kaz’s bedside. “We’ve found it best that everyone remains calm in the infirmary.”

Kaz didn’t like that. He didn’t want his emotions being influenced without his knowledge, but what upset him the most was that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. This man, like the headmaster, with his benign smile, was dangerous.

“I swear on my mana that the only enchantments in this room are light, greater healing, and great calm.”

“Fluffy, attack,” he said, pointing weakly. The little thing charged too. Kaz held it back, feeling rather silly. “I don’t like you.” He didn’t like this school either. Two days in and he was still flat-footed.

“Understandable. Also, I’m bound by healer-patient confidentiality. Apart from the headmaster, who had to be informed, no one else will know about your medical history.”

“Doesn’t really make me feel better,” he said, struggling to sit up. Kaz glanced at his arms before looking away. “Where’s my shirt?”

The man, who was definitely a priest, handed over his shirt without a word. “Would you like to do your physical now?”

“You’re not going to ask?”

“I have questions, but that doesn’t give me a right to pry into your life. Though, I’m a willing ear if you wish to speak.”

Kaz scoffed. He’d had regular appointments with a psychologist and he knew one thing, he didn’t like talking about it. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Nicholas Fransis Papasoldimitroideas.”

Kaz blinked. “Ignacius Kaz’myr Blake Huxley.” He bit his tongue not to comment on that very wordy name, remembering Nathan's explanation regarding priests. Were N names also popular?

“Light Magic Tower Master?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you treat all first-year students?”

“Only the ones attacked by lightning without explanation?” Master Nicholas said.

“Lightning?” That was when Kaz remembered. He looked to the side but there was no blue screen. “Fuck.”