So, recapitulating, [Lights] are not supposed to put holes through wooden walls. Gotcha.

I almost outed myself right there. It’s a blessing that everyone is eating and too busy to look at their truth-stones. Oof. Close call.

“Agostina,” I say to my landlady, “how come in the people Nine Towers Academy still get the [Light Mage] class if it sucks this much?”

My landlady swaps the air with her hand, clicking her mouth.

“You want to know why those lunatics do it? There’s an entire cohort of idiots called the Mouse Lancers, one of the factions inside the academy, who forces people to get the [Light Mage] class. To enter their ranks, you need to accept the [Light Mage] class blindly, without even asking. I know because I asked them to join since they have good connections. Some speculate that the fact that [Light Magic] is the least reactive to disturbances means it’s hiding some great secret. The reality? [Light Magic] is based on the simplest forms, meaning there are fewer components in a spell matrix of a Light-Magic-attuned spell compared to any other elements: and even though those idiots can’t put it past their green ears, it’s as simple as that.”

Damn, she really went on a tirade about all this.

“People love to think they have found some great secrets and that they know better than everyone else,” Julia sighs from the side. “But the sad reality is that all these people, especially when they are adventurers, are most likely going to kill themselves in a stupid way—or worse, ruin their future potential.”

Agostina nods in return.

“Many talented idiots decided to get into the Mouse Lancers lot, and they slowly disappeared from any important circles of magic on Epretos. Some say they just stopped doing magic after realizing they were far too deep into the idiocy peddled around by the Mouse Lancers.”

“How come these people have such a good organization, though? Wouldn’t it make sense that maybe there’s something to it if they have some rep to throw around?”

“You are young, Luciani,” Agostina sighs and shakes her head, “it’s likely that it’s just a little fable made up so that part of the idiots that believe in it will fail. It might be a purposeful hoax—that’s the most popular opinion at the Nine Towers Academy, anyway. And if it is, it means there must be someone keeping it going with their resources. Who knows, perhaps even an [Archmage]. The Mouse Lancers are a pretty old faction. The scam might have been running for centuries now—and I don’t see how it would have worked without the blessing of the [Archmages] running the academy.”

“And if you want to know why people still decide to join them,” Julia sighs, “it’s what I just said. People think they know much better than anyone else. There’s always someone particularly gullible that will fall for these scams. And for those who want to reach the top, it’s one less [Mage] they need to eliminate on the way to becoming an [Archmage].”

Damn.

That would mean those people are a bunch of little snakes now, wouldn’t it?

But there’s something about this story that sounds extremely weird to me. A scam can only be run for so long without people noticing. Sure, I do believe some conspiracy theories, but this specific one… sounds sketchy. It might be because I put a big old hole in my wall, and no one seems to believe that such a thing is possible. I mean, as far as I understand magic, it seems like [Lightbolt] would be a pretty good spell to use as a non-elemental bolt. I do see the enticing nature of something like [Firebolt] – if it even exists – but I don’t think it would hit as hard as a straight-up [Lightbolt]. Why? Well, it’s in the very nature of spell matrixes! Even Agostina said it! Usually, spell matrixes get much more complicated as you add more stuff to them.

If movement requires anti-matrixes or a specifically crafted matrix, then the easiest, and therefore the strongest [-bolt], would most definitely be [Lightbolt]. The anti-matrixes for more complex spells would need to be extremely precise so as not to interfere with the underlying structure of the spell—with [Lightbolt], instead, I’m just kind of propelling the [Light] to move really fast.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

As I’m staring at my lidulae, thinking of magical possibilities with a wide variety of spell matrixes, I feel a pinch on my shoulder.

“Ouch,” I say, rubbing my arm and looking up.

“Does he often do that?” Julia asks.

“I’ve seen him do that,” Agostina sighs.

“Sorry, sometimes, I zone out. I was thinking about this Light Magic stuff. It’s actually pretty cool.”

“But Domitilla,” I look at my even-more-gorgeous Blake Lively in Elven form, “how’s life treating you? I know magic is tough and everything, but do you do anything else?”

“Like?” She asks.

“Hobbies? I don’t know, jogging, crotchet? What do Elves do in their free time? Do you read spicy novels about very rich [Adventurers] who are into young maidens?”

“Oh, I see what you mean,” she nods to herself, pursing her lips and lowering her gaze in a concentrated form.

Yo, what? I asked her if she had hobbies. This is not the LSAT.

“I like roaming around the Green Walk,” she finally says. “I do my magical practice every day, hang out with mom here, and help out at work as a temporary clerk. I’m refusing the class, though. [Clerks] suck.”

Oh, boy. A woman after my own heart.

“Aren’t [Clerks] the worst? Like, if you wanted to torture someone terribly, you should just make them go back and forth from different front offices, with [Clerks] giving them more and more complicated instructions and forms. I reckon even the toughest guy would crack like a peanut under such a terrifying torture method.”

Domitilla hits me with a laugh so crystal clear that my vision kind of gets blurry for a second.

Bless the souls of the Elves. Whatever they are feeding their women, I will pray that they continue to do so.

So far, Lucinda, Irene, and Domitilla are the hottest chicks I’ve seen. Flaminia is hot, sure, but she’s also my friend—so that gets her a few points down the ladder. Now, I have to admit; there’s a certain something to Lucinda that gives me that ‘I’ll ruin your life’ vibe that I go crazy for.

Lucinda’s vibe is sort of like Alexandra Daddario in Percy Jackson teenage crush stuff. It’s primal, man. I can’t really do anything about it.

But Domitilla? Oh, boy. She might not have found her path in life, but she definitely found her path to my heart. This plays like a Gossip Girl episode where no one but Agostina is actually mean and crazy.

I raise my eyebrows a little, staring at the beautiful woman in front of me, hoping said eyebrows could actually move my eyes a little higher up. See, the only problem I got with these Elves is the fact that they dress very conservatively. Cleavage doesn’t appear to be a thing. Obviously, your boy here doesn’t really need to see the cleavage to judge how important the square footage is, but it does make my life a little bit harder.

And if you think I’m shallow, just remember that those two jugglers are made to feed babies, right? I’m just checking to make sure I’m guaranteeing the best of the best for my children; that’s all.

If loving your future children is a crime, go ahead, sue me.

“Joey, what do you do in Amorium aside from baking? And why did you come to Amorium specifically?”

“Oh, I ended up in Amorium by chance but stayed because of the company. And what do I do other than baking? I do some magic practice for fun, mostly.”

For fun and because the stup—beautiful book will literally murder me otherwise.

That was close. A little mote of electricity ran on my back when I almost insulted the thing.

“That sounds like a lot of work,” Domitilla frowns.

“Nah. I hang out with my boys a lot as well. At the park. Sorry, the Pratus. I cut hair there too.”

Domitilla and Julia look very confused at what I just said before Agostina chimes in.

“He is friends with the homeless people. He brings them food. Two of those ex-[Soldiers] work with him now. He got them one of my apartments—they are nice boys.”

I just want to say that Tiberius and Quintus look like they are, at the very least, ten years older than me. At the very least. Agostina calling them ‘boys’? A bit weird.

“Aren’t you afraid someone will stab you there?” Domitilla asks, concerned.

“Nah. Already got a beating. But it wasn’t homeless people, just normal [Soldiers]. For the most part, the homeless crowd is amazing. They are very tight-knit too. They help each other even though they don’t have much to share. It’s amazing, really.”

“Wouldn’t that be natural for them, in order to survive?” Julia asks.

“Nah. I have helped homeless people before. When you are that poor, you don’t like sharing, trust me. Amorium’s people, instead, are very nice. A couple of them can get a bit nasty, but I know that my boys have got my back. In fact, I actually would have gone to cook them something if I had known about this holiday. Damn, now, I actually feel bad they didn’t tell me anything—those two idiots.”

Julia and Domitilla seem unsure of what to say next, and it’s surprisingly Agostina who intercedes.

“This boy here is an idiot. But he is an idiot with good intentions. He’s also got two [Guards] with him because Clodia is afraid they’ll kill him otherwise.”

“Nah, not kill me. Maybe beat me up. I don’t think someone would go as far as kill me, right?”

All three suddenly get really quiet.

“Hum. Right?” I ask again with some uncertainty.