“...This of course results in the body being unable to store enough mana in the?”
“The nub,” someone in the front row answered,
“Good,” the lecturer nodded, before continuing, “The mana stone, or nub as it’s colloquially referred to. Low mana conductivity makes transferring the absorbed mana from your strings to your nub incredibly difficult, if not downright impossible, thus precluding the formation of the first magic circle, and as such, abnormally low mana conductivity needs to be rectified as quickly as possible. This can be done through…”
Feeling Lunia continually poking my bare arm, I stopped jotting down notes, and turned to her, seeing what she wanted from me.
“Don’t you already know this?” she asked, leaning her cheek against her jaw, and still prodding my skin even having captured my attention, “Why are you taking notes?”
“The more pertinent question would be, why aren’t you taking notes?” I countered.
“I already formed my first circle.”
“You should at least pay attention.”
“Fine,” she harrumphed, sitting up straighter, and staring intently at the drawn magic circle on the blackboard.
Seeing Lunia focusing once again, I smiled, before raising my hand.
“Yes?” the lecturer stopped, and pointed at me.
“Would it be possible for someone to form multiple circles at once if they were somehow able to gain access to a large amount of mana?”
“Good question,” he nodded, “There are two generally agreed upon explanations for why that’s impossible. The constantly changing nature of the human body, and the inherent limitations of flesh, both intrinsically linked, and related to how we interact with mana.
With the development of the basic magic circle formulas thousands of years ago, humans were able to absorb much more environmental mana in a much shorter amount of time than previously thought possible, and as a result, it became known that the more mana permeates something, the more that something is changed.
Now, how does that limit us?
The basic magic circle diagrams were created with the assumption that the one forming them would be a completely normal human with very little mana. Because of this, the fact that the body changes when exposed to more mana, and the tendency for that change to be just the slightest bit more different from their peers the further they ascend, it is physically impossible for there to be a model provided for you the farther you progress.
For example, say that one has the highest recorded talent equaling the 11 disciples at 10 stars. A model for the first eight levels exists, and one is thus able to form their first eight magic circles off of those models, but after that, nothing.
Their body will have changed to the point that for the next 32 levels, only they will be able to create a properly functioning magic circle for themselves.”
“Not to worry,” he continued, after breathing in, “You will be taught how to effectively judge your own body, and create a model for magic circles, even if it is very unlikely for anyone in this room to reach Level 8 even if you were to last the full seven years at Celestia.”
“Onto the next reason, the limitations of flesh.
If you were to create multiple magic circles at once, you will explode,” he pointedly stated, dryly smiling to himself.
He paused,
“...Actually, I'll take it back. Exploding is a very strong word to use.
Your body needs time to grow used to the new level of power it has acquired. If it doesn't, at best, you lose a star but keep your life, and at worst, your body will completely fail, and melt down.
This holds especially true past Level 8, where the idea of forming multiple circles at once goes from extraordinarily stupid to downright suicidal. Logically speaking, such an immediate increase in power couldn’t possibly be sustainable.”
Leaning over the lectern at the front of the room,
“It’s theorized that man wasn’t created with the intention of them being able to manipulate mana the way dragons, or even goblins do, or at least, that’s the logic used to explain why there are so many physiological limitations imposed on us. There are material related to such topics available in the library.”
Staring directly at me,
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“Does that sufficiently answer your question?” he asked.
Writing one final thing down, I raised my hand again.
“Is it possible for a magic circle to be partly formed, and for it to be finished at a later time?”
The professor briefly looked up into the air, lost in thought, before answering,
“Yes,” he nodded, “But it’s very highly discouraged for the lower stars. It’s just safer to complete it in one sitting at your level. Any more questions?”
Seeing me remain silent, he continued lecturing on low mana conductivity.
Suddenly leaning towards me, Lunia poked my cheek.
“So studious,” she teased, chuckling to herself.
I brushed her hand away.
***
“...o summarize, channels, or strings, are best described as the “pipe,” from which mana flows through, and mana conductivity describes how clean that pipe is.”
Suddenly stopping, the professor reached into his robe, pulling out a silver chained pocket watch.
“And we’re out of time,” he remarked, before looking back up, ”Work will not be assigned for you to complete independently, and everyday after class, Monday through Saturday, the day will be yours to do with as you wish. You may attend other classes, train, you can even choose to not do anything, and just waste away.
But, there is a certain expectation that you will utilize this freedom efficiently, such that it is conducive to your learning.
Also, at 5:00 PM, line up in front of your assigned dorm's entrance, where you will then get your room keys.
You are now free to leave.”
Getting up from our seats, Lunia and I joined the deluge of students exiting the room.
“What time does alchemy start?” she asked, yawning and straining her arms up into the air.
“In ten minutes, at ten, if teacher ended exactly at the time he was supposed to,” I read off of the time table, “It’s at building 25; we’ll make it. Probably.”
Despite our row being above the others, Lunia had to stand on the tips of her toes in order to see just how many people were in front of us.
“You want to sit up front next time? So we can leave earlier.”
“No,” she shook her head, “I hate the feeling of other people staring at the back of my head. I know they’re probably not, but still.”
“Yeah,” I nodded, still reading off of the timetable and map, “I get that.”
“Do you want to go to all the courses offered, and see which ones might be interesting?”
“Look,” I exclaimed, pointing between the second and third class on the schedule, “10:00-11:50, and then the next class is at 1:00-2:50. That’s probably when we’re expected to eat.”
“Answer,” she puffed her cheeks out, intentionally bumping into, and causing me to nearly trip and fall.
“Sure, sure,” I finally answered.
As we finally made our way out, thousands of other students, both in our year and above, walked out of and in between the surrounding buildings at the same time, causing Lunia to groan in annoyance.
Directly diving in, we forced our way through, pushing and shoving those in front, while those behind did the same to us, until finally, we made our way to the outskirts of the crowd, where there were still lots of people, but we at least had some room to breathe.
“Goddess,” Lunia cursed, “Is this going to happen everyday?”
“No, only Monday to Saturday.”
At my remark, she lightly smacked me on the head.
Continuing to walk forward, the voice of who I presumed to be an upperclassman suddenly entered my ears.
“MANA NOTES,” he yelled, “MANA 101, 202, 303 NOTES, CHEAP, SOME WRITTEN BY A TOP SCORING STUDENT.”
A stack of the same type of leather bound notebooks in my hand by his foot, he was barely a head taller than me, and his dark brown curly hair was cut incredibly short, while his face was oddly reminiscent of a cat’s.
Drawn in by his words, I approached him.
“How much for 101?”
“50 for normal, average notes, 70 for more detail, 100 for the most detail.”
Asking to see inside the most detailed notes, I gave the contents within a cursory inspection, but without a baseline with which to judge the quality, I quickly handed the leather bound book back, not willing to spend 2/3rds of my points so quickly.
“I don’t just sell things,” he remarked, placing the book back, “I am able to be commissioned for anything and everything.”
He affably smiled, his prominent cheekbones covered by dozens of light colored freckles becoming even more pronounced.
“You need information? You pay me, I’ll get it for you. You aren’t able to get a specific resource from the Dream? Again, you pay me, I’ll get it for you. I’m always in front of the U dormitory from 6:00 to 6:30 in the afternoon.”
“Actually,” I began, “What’s the Dream? I remember it being referred to on the scroll we were given."
“I’ll give you that one for free,” he smiled, “The Dream is-”
“HEY RAT,”
An angry voice suddenly yelled, and a girl with dull red hair stomped towards us from my left.
“I can’t believe you made it,” she sneered, her voice oozing with condescension, “And Lauria didn’t.”
“Well,” the boy she called Rat cordially half smiled, “I guess I was just lucky.”
“What a very ‘you’ answer.”
She turned to me,
“And you,” her voice turned serious, “Don’t get involved with him. He’ll drag you down."
“I can tolerate personal insults," he cheerfully remarked, "But please refrain from going after my livelihood.”
Snorting in disgust, the red haired girl quickly left, going on her way, and leaving us alone.
“What’s the Dream?” I asked.
Taking out a dull, rusted pocket watch,
“On second thought,” he continued, “Just read the rule book. It'll tell you. I don’t want to make you late.”
“He’s right,” Lunia agreed.
I turned my head, scanning my surroundings, and noticing that the number of people around had drastically reduced, I continued on my way to building 25 with Lunia, waving goodbye to Rat as I did so.