Beep! Beep! Beep!
8:00am already? Jacob groaned, wiped the sleep out of his eyes, then threw the covers off and sat on the edge of the bed. Sunlight slipped in around the blinds on the single window. Blake groaned and rolled over. Muted voices came through the walls and footsteps thudded down the hall. Christ, but he slept like shit here.
He forced himself up and went to the window.
"Light?"
Blake groaned. "Just get it over with."
Jacob let the blind up. The room brightened. Little motes danced in his eyes. He yawned, grabbed his toothbrush, then shambled out of their room, down the hall to the bathroom and started brushing his teeth on autopilot. He blinked at himself in the mirror and tried to kick his brain into gear. First class today was Production Basics. Then they had a break. Then Decomposition Basics in the afternoon. Not a super busy day, but annoying. Why couldn't they shift Production Basics later in the day? They could all probably use the sleep.
Jacob spat out the toothpaste and washed out his mouth, then stared at himself in the mirror. Camilla sat next to him in Production Basics. He ran a hand through his hair. Maybe he should have bought some hair product. Or was that too corny? Well, couldn't exactly go and get any now could he?
Jacob eyed the shower stalls. He should probably shower before class if he was going to sit next to Camilla, but that meant he'd have to get up earlier. He grunted. Maybe tomorrow.
He traipsed back to his room, passing a half dressed Blake in the halls. For a moment he stood looking down at the pile of clothes on the end of his bed. The burgundy hoodie and black sweatpants. Maybe he should wear something else today. Something a little nicer. He went to his cabinet and pulled out a pair of jeans. The price tag still dangled from one of the belt loops. He ripped it off, stuck his legs in, and shimmied them up. Okay, what about a top? He had that purple polo and a rougher grey one, but never wore them to class because his baggy anime decal t-shirts were way comfier.
Blake trundled back into the room and thew on a jacket. "You good?"
Jacob snatched the grey polo and threw it on. "Yeah, let's go."
They grabbed their books and headed out. Jacob locked the door and they hustled down the hallway. It was warm outside, the sun bright but somehow dull. Blake and him walked side by side. They were both still blinking the fog of sleep off, and their communication consisted solely of yawns passed back and forth. There was something special about classes today that nagged at Jacob, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was.
"Was there something we needed to hand in for class today?" Jacob asked.
Blake shook his head. "No."
"Why do I feel like I'm forgetting something, then?" Jacob muttered.
"Well, we're finally starting to cast the different types of magic today. Maybe that's it."
"Oh shit," Jacob said. He'd totally forgotten. "Oh shit!"
His morning fog receded beneath the prospect of finally learning actual spells. The first month of their three type courses had been spent strictly preparing for casting spells. They'd spent hours rigorously engaging their magic until they could do it unconsciously because, to quote, their Consumption Basics prof, Professor Alhammadi, 'there is no point learning spells if one cannot call upon their magic whenever they need it.' Engaging it randomly and repeatedly in class had been harder than Jacob had expected. In the first week he'd left class sweating more often than not. They'd also practiced their gauging of the visible spectrum. The profs and their assistants would cast various spells and the students would have to pinpoint where they lay along the visible spectrum. Jacob's sense had gone from the near-miasmic overload he'd experienced witnessing the Vancouver Rangers fight, to the point where he felt he could have pinpointed every spell cast in those fights to an accuracy of ten nanometers. Ten nanometers was the metric the professors used for an A+. The lessons were uniform across all three classes, invisibly coordinated by the three professors.
They crossed the quad to the triangle of three buildings that each housed the faculty and classrooms for each type of magic. They were newer, white-walled buildings that were brightly lit inside. They merged with a trickle of other classmates. Some looked like zombies, others bright chipper morning birds. They entered the Production Building, and then into the first floor auditorium. The acoustics magnified the chatter of the other students and the scraping of chairs and the thudding of books hitting desks.
Camilla was sitting in her usual spot, with Grace on one side of her.
"Morning," Jacob said. He sat down next to her, and Blake sat on the other side of him.
"Good morning."
"Excited to start learning spells?" Jacob asked. He was over the moon.
Camilla folded her arms. "It's gonna be boring for me."
Oh, yeah, Jacob supposed that was fair.
"Alright, class!" Mr Michaelson called from the front of the room. He rapped his knuckles on his lectern. Mr Michaelson was the muscular, middle aged man who'd checked Emma Jackson's pulse a lifetime ago. He had a loud voice, was a confident lecturer, and was the only prof who tried to crack jokes in class. "I know it's early, trust me I would rather be in bed right now, but I don't make the schedule. But today is a very special day, not like our other days aren't special, hey, but today I am finally going to be teaching you all how to cast Production spells."
Mr Michaelson walked back and forth in front of the class. "Some of you may know how to do this already, but you can always use the practice. Let's review what we know about Production magic. As its name implies, Production magic is a blanket term for channelling magic to produce effects of various sorts. Today, we are going to be performing the simplest Production spell, that of using magic to make light.
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"I'd like you all to engage your magics and pay very close attention. With Consumption magic, you target the body part you wish to change. With Decomposition magic you target the part of the world you want to change. With both of these magics you are targeting something that is already there. But Production magic is special, and trickier, as it requires you to imagine what you wish to create. You are not changing something, but creating. All great Producers also have great imaginations; great visualization skills. These things can be trained. We'll look at that later in the course.
"But back to business. Pay attention to what I do. After I engage my magic, I project my magical muscle outside my body, and I visualize a ball of glowing light in front of me."
Magic whispered out of Mr Michaelson. It felt red, maybe 640nm, though Jacob couldn't see anything. A tiny spark winked into existence in front of Mr Michaelson's chest. It grew in size until a glowing orb the size of a soccer ball hovered in the air. Its light brought out the lines on Mr Michaelson's face in stark relief.
Gasps echoed from the class.
Mr Michaelson reached his hand up and grabbed the glowing ball. It winked out of existence. "Now I want each of you to try this. Only a trickle of power, we don't want to blind anyone. I'm looking at you, Ms D'Angelo. Engage your magic, move your muscle outside your body, picture a glowing ball."
Camilla grumbled something unintelligible. Magic flickered out of her and a tiny star came into being in front of her.
"Whoa," Jacob said. He cleared his throat and tried it himself. He flexed his magical muscle without having to think about it. Instead of moving the muscle down his body, he tried to move it externally. It didn't work.
Jacob looked around. Lights were flickering on and off around the class. Some students—clearly already old hands at Production magic like Camilla—already had little glowing orbs spinning and floating around. Jacob reminded himself not to compare to them. One month into the term and he was starting to put names to most faces. That was one thing he was thankful that he hung around Camilla and Grace and even Archie for. They were unparalleled gossips about the magical community. Who was strong? Who came from a magical family? Who was a knob? They had a good idea of the hierarchy of the class so far, which helped give him an idea, and would help him down the line for the tournament. The three of them had looked at all the Strength Charts from the class, which were available online. But it wasn't entirely about that. Magical families, prior demonstration of magic, demeanour, all played a role in who the trio thought would be strong or successful, who would make Ranger, who could even be a future Council member. Or who would wash out.
A few rows ahead of them Victor popped a first light into existence, then a second, then a third. Archie had warned them about him. He was the strongest Consumer in the class, and had experience in magical combat already. Victor grabbed his three lights, tossed them up into the air and started juggling them, simultaneously changing their colours to the oohs and ahs of those around him. Clearly he was a solid Producer as well.
A bright flash came from across the room, followed by a "Sorry!" That was a tall, jittery girl with bright red hair named Sophia. Her family was on the fringe of the magical community, but she was strong in all three categories. Camilla and Grace thought her threat level would depend on how fierce she managed to make herself in battle.
There were a few other names he could put faces to, and some he couldn't, but after seeing Victor add a fourth ball to his juggling he turned back to his own trials.
Show off, Jacob grunted. He used that trick Jimmy had shown him for the resistance spell, but instead of picturing green he pictured the same red he'd felt when Mr Michaelson had cast his spell. His magical muscle slipped out of his brain and down into the space between his hands. He took a deep breath and imagined a glowing ball of light. It appeared between his hands, maybe the size of a tennis ball. A little greener than Mr Michaelson's had been. He expanded his muscle and the light expanded with it to the size of a basketball. He laughed and glanced over at Camilla, who smiled.
To his right, Blake was cursing. Phantom lights flickered between his hands, then went out.
"Picture the colour red," Jacob said.
Blake glanced at him, then frowned at the space between his hands. A spark flickered, then grew into a small translucent swamp light. It steadied, but didn't grow much brighter.
"Alright! Thanks. Where'd you learn that?"
"Friend of mine," Jacob said.
The classroom had become brighter than noonday. Dozens of luminous coloured orbs bobbed and floated through the air. A gallery of stars. Some like burning suns, some like tiny white dwarfs, others bulky blue giants.
Mr Michaelson clapped his hands. "The size and brightness of your light will depend on how much magic you pour into it. Strength in Production magics and skill in casting are both factors in this, so remember, even if you're strong, you still have to practice! Now, did anyone not get it?"
A couple hands crept up.
"Alright, well there's another trick we can use for casting. Follow the same steps from before, but picture the colour red when attempting to cast. I want everyone to try again."
"Hey, there's your tip," Blake said. He brought up another of his flickering swamp lights.
Jacob glanced over at Camilla. She'd slouched her head on her palm and was tracing circles in the desk with one hand.
"Not having fun?" Jacob asked.
She grunted. "I know all this already."
"Still good to practice."
"Ha! This is barely practice. He won't even let me use my full power."
"Yeah, I was wondering why."
"Because I'll blind everyone in the room."
Oh.
Jacob didn't know what to say to that, so instead he cast another light. This one he kept smaller. Okay, now what about if I picture it shooting out from my hand, like a fireball? He imagined the orb floating over to Camilla's face. It bobbed away from his hand. He laughed.
Camilla glanced at him and saw the little orb. She grinned and opened her hand and caught it.
Jacob noticed he lost control of the orb once he'd shot it away from his hand. But he didn't have time to wonder how far away from your body you could control things because Camilla flung a much larger, brighter orb back at him. He squawked and ducked. It flew past him, wove over Blake's head, and dissipated on the wall with a bright flash.
"Ms D'Angelo!" Mr Michaelson folded his arms across his beefy chest. His tone was only half serious. "Did I tell you to shoot the orbs?"
The class had gone dead silent.
"No," Camilla growled. She was looking pointedly at Jacob, her expression hotter than a fireball.
Jacob swallowed a grin.
Mr Michaelson grunted. "Well, consider yourself lucky, because that's our lesson for next day! I want you all to read up on projectile magics tonight and come to class tomorrow prepared. The readings are online. We will be heading over to the training grounds to practice projectiles. Class dismissed!"
Camilla shot daggers at Jacob as they packed up. Grace and Blake joined them and the four of them joined the larger stream of students trickling out of the lecture hall.
"Finally, something useful!" Blake said once they'd left the auditorium. "I'm gonna go do those readings now, Jacob. Production is my strongest magic and projectiles are gonna be super important for my tournament fights. You wanna join?"
"Sure."
"Alright!" Blake turned to Camilla and Grace. "You two should come study with us."
"Um." Grace said. "We were thinking of grabbing some coffee first. But after-"
"Hey!" Someone screamed from down the hallway. "They posted the tournament seedings!"
They all shared a momentary look, then booked it down the hallway.