Chapter 2: Classmates

After overcoming his perturbed state, Damian scanned his surroundings.  He had a good view of the whole class as he was in the last row.

There were 38 students in the class including him.

Most of the students in his class either had black, blonde, red, and brown hair of different shades — the common color in this country.

There was only one classmate who had a very peculair hair color: Phoenix Elmond. His name was fairly easy to remember. After all, he was definitely named after his phoenix-like hair.

Now, who could miss that?    

Each individual had his or her own small desk and chair. Damian was especially grateful for this because back in grade school, students were paired with their desks. Once, he had a seatmate who always junked his trash and food crumbs on the shelf under the desk.

You may guess what happened — it was fucking gross!

There was nothing striking about the clasroom. The class was arranged into eight columns, with an aisle in the middle for the teacher to walk through, and five rows. There were two doors in the classroom on the right side from the students’ perspective: one at front and one at the back. The teacher’s table was situated on the side opposite of the doors. Lastly, there was also platform in front for the teacher. 

There was a 5-minute interval between each subject. But of course that was not always the case. It mostly depended on the teacher.

As the class awaited for the arrival of their next teacher, many of his classmates were still talking in groups and pairs — with several of them reaching across the room — about the two consecutive exams they had just finished. Though he could not hear what they were saying, Damian can guess from their laughs and encouragements to each other. There's always a next time! 

At least, they've learned their lesson. 

But of course, who knows if their determination now would actually last long?

As Damian continued to scan his environment he noticed five classmates who were unperturbed with the test. They were either confident or just did not care at . . .

“Mr. Nardel, how did you fare with the tests?”

Damian was a bit startled. He did not notice that Jaime, his innocent-and-innocuous-looking, blonde-haired seatmate, was standing right next to him. “Yeah, I fucked up with both. How about you?”

“I did fine with literature since I read the first three chapters in advance, and just had to study for the first chapter. After all, it was the only thing covered in the exam,” Jaime responded. “Regarding math, I’m not really that confident.”

“I wish I was an avid reader like you. But, I can’t help it, I just don’t like reading books," Damian lamented. "I can’t believe the first chapter was so long. I had a hard time reading it because of its writing style. It used a lot words I’m unfamiliar with. I should’ve checked it out a few days ago." Damian was somone who cries over spilled milk. "If only the test wasn’t mostly objective, I could’ve bullshitted some parts. Regarding, for me, it wasn’t really that difficult.”

“But you said you messed it up?” Jaime pointed out.

Damian wasn’t lying.

He really did not find math items difficult. It was challenging but it was something he could solve. He may not be a genius or a nerd but math was his best subject. Overall, Damian was slightly above average intellectually and physically. In fact, he was on top of his class . . . in a small town with no one to truly compete with.

Due to his complacency, he never studied throughout his grade school life except for the subjects that needed memorization.

“I made too many careless mistakes which disrupted my rhythm,” Damian answered. “And if only I had time, I would’ve done better if I could’ve rechecked my answers. All I can hope for is that I passed for now. I swear to myself I’m gonna get back on track or else I’m gonna cut this ponytail.” He had his pride to keep. Though he didn’t want to lose the short ponytail he kept for years, he had to have determination.

“I never inquired before since I might seem rude but,” Jaime asked, “is your ponytail part of your family’s tradition?”

“Yes.”

Damian could not admit the truth behind his hair style. He got so addicted in a certain comic that he tried to copy the protagonist who had a ponytail when he was ten. Now he is thirteen. Thankfully, schools have become lenient with hairstyles in consideration to bloodlines and traditions, and thus, he could keep it.

But he certainly could not say that kind of stuff among people. 

Damian was timid. He merely acts confident and does his best to stop his voice from shaking when speaking in front of a crowd. The young student was also not a socially outgoing person either. Thus, even after two weeks he only made a few people in his class who he could call friends, including Jaime.

“By the way can you just call me by my first name,” Damian requested. “It makes me feel old.”

“Oh, okay, forgive me for my lack of sensitivity sometimes,” Jaime scratched his head while letting a soft laugh.

Jaime Aretti often mixed formal and informal speech styles. He was always polite and tried not to get at the bad side of people.

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He was, after all, a nobility . . . a fallen nobility rather.

Damian had heard from his parents that the Aretti family were good-natured people. The reasons for their downfall were unknown to Damian. He never inquired much into it. More importantly, Damian could tell that Jaime’s personality was at least not superficial. This kid was genuinely kind and polite.

They talked more for a bit especially about who they think would get good scores in the exams. Damian learned from Jaime who among his classmates were academically good. He has also confirmed that three of the five people who took his attention were smart.

Their conversation ended when their social studies teacher arrived.

It had been over 15 minutes since the previous subject ended.

* * *

As he was eating lunch, Damian could not help but stare at a dark-haired girl a few tables in front of him, facing him — but of course, she had her eyes on her food. 

Now that he looked at her closely, her hair was a bit purple . . .

“Have you set sights on that girl.?” Nikole looked behind him and then stared at Damian, who was in front of him.

Damian flinched at the question. “What? . . . No . . .” He was unable to tell Nikole that he was merely focused at the hair, but that sounded like a lame excuse.

“Chill, dude, I’m just teasing you,” Nikole laughed.

Jaime who was beside Damian could not help but also take a peek at the girl and chuckle.

Nikole Landanger, with the slicked-brown hair and yellow eyes, was also Damian’s classmate.  Together with Jaime, they were lunch buddies.

“Why is she eating alone though?” Damian could not help but get curious. "I noticed during class, too. Nobody really approaches and talks to her." She was also one of the five classmates he took notice of.  However, he was unable to confirm her capabiltiy. It seemed she didn't go to any primary school in this region.

“Because she’s a witch,” Nikole answered.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Jaime joined the conversation.

“Do you guys not have heard of past stories regarding witches?” Nikole asked them. “Are there even any witches in your regions?”

“I don’t really know,” Damian shrugged. “Maybe there are . . . I never really heard that much about them. People don’t really talk about witches, and I don’t think the people back there badmouthed them either.” It was the same for Jaime

“I guess you don’t have any prejudices against witches then,” Nikole nonchalantly told them. “You see, a long time ago, up here in the north, most people hate them. . ."

Damian and Jaime listened intently.

" . . .  before our continent’s unification, many witches often used to kidnap and sacrifice children for their rituals for immortality or whatever shit they wanted to acquire. Not only that, witches were also infamous for their curse magic, in which many people have fallen victim to. And most of all, there was that one real crazy witch that attempted to sacrifice a whole town during a night with a blood moon long time ago."

"I did not know about that," Jaime said.

"I’m not saying that all witches are bad though. It’s just that because of the stigma people tend to avoid them . . . and I bet some people still hold a grudge against them.”

“How did everyone know she’s a witch?” Damian asked.

“Because she boldly introduced herself as a daughter of a witch on the first day of class,” Nikole responded immediately. “Words spread that fast.” Damian could not relate to ti that. He was always one of the last to hear about news.

“I’m surprised that she even managed to get enrolled in this academy if that’s how people feel about them,” Damian took a glance at the witch girl. "Is she the only witch here though?"

“That’s because of the king. He tried to get rid of the stigma,” Nikole pointed out. “He wanted isolated and separated groups and tribes to be gradually accepted by the main society . . . and if possible, incorporated — but not through any coercion, of course. The representatives of this region during the council meeting was against the idea of accepting witches, but they lost in the argument. Majority of in the north and south didn’t really have anything against them.

"Plus, witches that committed such atrocities are mostly gone by now," he continued. "And, there haven’t really been any incidents regarding witchcraft for the past decades. Not to mention, this is a state-funded academy. Imagine if King Jareth finds out that the the school didn't accept an enrollee because she's a witch. And to answer your question: no, I reckon there are others like her around. It's just that they're hiding the fact they're one."

 "I see," Damian said.

* * *

For the rest of the week, it was uneventful except magic class was now about casting their first spells. After memorizing incantations and gestures, and visualizing the flow of mana for the past two weeks, it was finally time.

“Before we actually start casting your first spell, I have a question: What was the purpose of our activities in the past week?” their magic instructor asked. He was fairly young, probably in his early 20s. At this point, he has not yet explained anything to the class. “What is the point of incantations, gestures, and visualization?”

Damian wanted to raise his hand and answer articulately. But now, he knew how he was with crowds. Ahh, forget it, he told himself.

A student at the left-most row (from the teachers perspective) raised his hand.

“Incantations and gestures are there to help gather, shape, and restrict the flow of mana when casting a spell,” he answered. "Visualization is important because the strength and stability of spells are intricately connected to one’s determination, concentration and state of mind."

“Thank you, Mr. Elmond.”

Phoenix Elmond, the phoenix-colored-hair classmate, was social, confident, and amiable. He was one of the academically outstanding background Jaime has told him. He was from a higher rung of middle-class families.

“Asides from Mr. Elmond has said here,” the instructor added, “ visualization is very crucial because it is the first step in casting spells without the need of incantations or gestures. You will understand its relevance much later on. . .”

If a student aspired to become a full-fledged mage, he or she had to study for six years in the academy. Otherwise, they may choose to drop in after their third or fourth year. They would still be given diplomas as official mages. Fourth year was the phase of specialization. It was in the fifth and sixth year where students are given opportunities for hands-on experience in their respective fields.

"Remember, spell casting starts with the incantations and gestures for the spell," the instructor explained. "Second, you need to concentrate or else the spell will be weak or not work. Lastly, the spell itself will draw supply out from your personal mana."

Magical energy, or in short, mana, was it was at the heart of everything magic. Without it, no magic spells would work. There were two main sources of magical energy to a magic practicioner: his/her own personal mana and the surrounding mana. 

Most spells, however, were centralized around one's personal mana for particular reasons. Things like wards, on the other hand, were designed for absorbing surrounding mana. 

After their teacher had explained the stages in spell casting, the class proceeded to cast their first spell: levitation.

The spell was directed on light and cubical objects distributed to each of the students at the start of the class. Most of them were ecstatic with their first spell casting. After two weeks of preparation, they only had to take a few tries to get it right.

Moving the object, however, was a different matter.

Out of all the 38 students, only two students got it on their first try: the witch girl and Cedric Quiber.