"Ah, Mr Caibo," Professor Muesli said, a little frown creasing his eyebrows. He was dressed in a long sleeved plaid flannel and jeans, and carried a few books beneath one arm. "You got here quickly."

Jacob's heart pounded so loud in his chest he almost didn't hear the man speak. He was rooted to the spot.

"...yeah..."

Professor Muesli nodded and gestured to one of the seats by the door with his free hand. "Have a seat," he brushed past Jacob, placed his books gently on his cluttered desk, and sat down in his chair. "I assume you're here to talk about the extra readings I gave you."

Jacob stood there, stunned, his mind processing through molasses.

The readings you gave me...

Oh, right.

"Yeah," Jacob said. "Yeah I am."

Professor Muesli nodded. "Good. It's great to see you taking interest in it. Not enough students take extracurricular interest in their studies, which inevitably makes it feel like work to them. Please, have a seat."

Jacob turned and pulled up one of the extra chairs to Muesli's desk and sat down in it. His heart still pounded, but he'd managed to get a handle on his rampant thoughts. Okay, this was doable. Camilla was still veiled, still in the closet. He could distract the professor while she searched, talk about the extra readings on Dynas.

Except, he didn't really have any questions on them. He'd done them a month ago and hadn't thought about them at all since.

It didn't matter. He just needed to make something up. Lie. Easy peasy. He'd been doing it for years. Muesli clearly didn't know what he was up to.

"Um..." Jacob started, trying to conjure up a subject. "I'm a little confused about what the magical world was like before Arthur Dynas. Those readings taught me a lot about him and what he thought, but I didn't really know what it was like before that."

"Ah, of course," Professor Muesli said. He stroked his ruddy beard. "Hmm... There isn't quite one defining organization, moment, person, etc, up until Dynas. That's what makes him special. If there were one commonality that could generalize the pre-Dynasian world of magic it would be that there was no commonality. There were, of course, organizations, sects, orders, cults, even some research and development of spells, but they were all individualized, transient, often fleeting. And yet, at the same time, magic was more commonplace. It was all around us. Many nations in the medieval era had court mages, astrologers, alchemists. Iron and Bronze Age civilizations had witch-doctors, druids, shamans. People were in touch with magic, each in their own way, via traditions passed down through the generations," Muesli paused. "Let me give you an example. Are you familiar with Roman history at all?"

"Kinda."

"They had a tradition called haruspicy. It's recorded as far back as Babylon, but in reality would have been around since the advent of civilization, perhaps even of hunter-gatherer societies. Haruspicy involves reading omens, or signs of the future, in the entrails of sacrificed animals. The results weren't literal predictions of the future, but instead more along the lines of the attitudes of the gods, weather, and nature, towards a certain action. The Romans might have used it to determine whether their gods favoured a battle, or even a troop movement, before engaging in it. What haruspicy is, in a magically-technical sense, is a very low level, loose Decomposition spell, where the haruspex—the caster—mixes Decomposition with the small amounts of magic released in the death of an animal. This connects them to the magical realm, and, depending on strength, technique, placement, animal, can indirectly connect the caster with the inherent magic within the weather around them, for example, or with one of the older, more powerful magical creatures that were known to many societies as demons, deities, spirits, gods, you name it."

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"Is it like Ritual Magic?" Jacob asked.

Muesli frowned. "How do you know about that?"

Jacob shrugged. "One of my friends told me about it."

Muesli made a noise in his throat. "Ritual Magic is Production magic. In a sense, haruspicy would be the Decomposition version of Ritual Magic. You aren't creating a channel or connection, but instead tapping into the natural one. But technicalities aside, my point was that this was something that was very commonplace in Roman society. Not just haruspicy, but all sorts of low level magics like it. And not just in Roman society, but in every society. Of course, every person in Rome couldn't perform haruspicy, but that some people could was common knowledge and the skill was frequently used. It was normal. There weren't any structures or systems in place, certainly no Academies, but there was widespread knowledge, and some development of that knowledge."

Jacob flicked a glance at the closet. He thought he'd heard a shuffle of paper, so he cleared his throat loudly. "But how did they learn how to cast spells if they didn't go to an Academy?"

Clearly he'd struck an ore vein, because Muesli leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands over his stomach.

"Ah, because they didn't think like you or me," Muesli said. "History is all about understanding the vanished world through the lives and perspectives of the people that came before us. The Romans, for example, believed in magic. Magic was a part of their world, their reality. They didn't question it. They weren't like you, who are probably still wrapping your head around the reality of magic, or even myself, who, despite knowing of magic since my youth, must move through a world that doesn't believe in magic; that exists and functions entirely separately and without the use of magic. For the Romans, magic wasn't something else, something added to their world, it was as much the fabric of their reality and their headspace as what they could see, touch, hear, as what kept them rooted to the ground, as the mathematical laws that underscored Pythagoras' Theorem. And, for Decomposition especially, that true belief is crucial," Muesli shrugged. "It's hard to grasp, verily, it's nearly impossible to actually genuinely understand a different headspace than your own, but it is the way that things were. And while they may not have had the systems of learning we do, they were closer to magic, in a sense. Some people say that the true magic is believing in magic."

Muesli fell silent, but before Jacob could get another question in, he raised his finger. "But! That doesn't mean there wasn't development or learning. Haruspicy was a form of divination, which would develop into other methods of divination in the middle ages in Europe, which would eventually itself be turned into the magical divination we use today."

"What's that?" Jacob asked.

"I guess you wouldn't have heard of it since they don't teach it in first-year," Muesli nodded. "Divination is an umbrella term for seeking magic. The most common one used today takes those early methods of divination like haruspicy and adds a magical signature to the caster side of the spell to 'flavour' the divination to seek out that specific magical signature. Rangers use it sometimes to track down specific creatures. Here, I have a book on it if you're curious."

Muesli shot up out of his chair and strode over to the closet before Jacob could blink.

No!

Muesli entered the closet and rummaged around for a bit, then came back out with a slender tome. There was no bump, no scream, no curse of surprise.

Camilla must have finished and left.

Jacob blew a breath out and sagged in his chair.

Muesli rifled through the tome. "It might be a little dry reading, but it looks at the history of magic through the lens of different developments and applications of divination. Fascinating perspective," he offered it to Jacob.

Jacob accepted it. "Thanks. Sounds cool," he stood. "I should probably get studying. Midterms next week, after all."

Muesli nodded. "And I should probably finish making your midterm," he chuckled. "Good to see you, Jacob. Come see me anytime."

"Thanks," Jacob said again. He nodded to Muesli and ducked out of the office.