CHAPTER 1. MEANWHILE IN TEL-AVIV
“Crisis!” Violet’s cry echoed through her corner of the training field, and a small bubble sprang into existence around the head of the dummy. Her incantations still took too long, and the signature spell was still basically useless against anything moving, but she was getting there. The translucent sphere’s whine grew in pitch as she kept channeling her mana, vacuuming the interior until any semblance of breathable air was a sweet memory, before closing the channel with a breathless gasp.
The sphere kept steady for a few seconds before winking out of existence with a pop.
“Gotta remember to breathe, Violet.” She chided herself. “Spell’s useless if you can’t keep casting.”
Reexamining her notes, she remixed and recalculated the incantations after a couple of edits for the dozenth time. The Transmutation-Evocation hybrid was nothing if not mana efficient, but the channeling charge up was murder on her concentration. As it was now, the spell would be the perfect duelist opener against her junior classmates, but utterly useless if her opponent didn’t panic at it’s sudden appearance.
“Crisis!” the next sphere reached its critical force instantly, but she shut the spell the moment after. The mana cost on that variant was going to fry her mana conduits, if not her brain.
“Will you stop fixing what ain't broken?” Nora shouted from the middle of the field, passing through the ranges of the other student as if she didn’t know they were there. A cacophony of swearwords in half a dozen languages announced her passage, and the pyrotechnics of poorly aborted spells followed her. “Didn’t you promise to leave our baby alone?”
Violet mouthed the words our baby like she’d been smacked, before giving up on Nora’s sanity for the day altogether, and settling for giving her the finger while she replaced her sweat with sickly sweet sports juice.
“Please tell me it’s here somewhere,” the tall girl rummaged through Violet’s large binder of ‘Crisis of Breath’ notes before chirping an “Aha!” and pushed a piece of paper to her chest. It was one of her first drafts, folded twice and sploched with a faded ketchup stain. Neither of us likes ketchup?
“Come on…” Nora urged.
Violet aquiced with a roll of her eyes. Nora was right, of course; when she’d first come up with the idea, they stayed awake hashing incantations till well past four in the morning, when the girl said “this will do” and forced her to go sleep. Violet honestly forgot about the winking smiley in the margins.
She cast the spell and let fly a fingernail sized sphere at the target, where it stuck to the dummy’s shoulder and expanded. It disappeared with a pop after a few seconds - a picture perfect example of a tier 2 evo-trans spell, except it did very little if she couldn’t hit the head. “See?”
“Ture Strike.” A soft tap on her shoulder sent a pleasant feeling of surety through her hand to her fingers. She felt… ready. Like her fingers were primed and asking to be used.
“Yeah sure,” she wrung her hands to squeeze away the feeling. “But what would that prove?”
“That I got your back, if nothing else?” Nora teased her with a foxish grin. She started walking towards the bleachers to get her things. “That’s the best you’ll get at your tier, short of a commission.”
“I really wish i could make it last for more than a couple of seconds.” Violet sighed. A mage that wasn’t breathing was a mage that wasn’t casting spells back at her barley existing shield.
“That’s what metamagic is for. Now come on, we’re celebrating so I’m fishing you out training early.” Nora left to pick up her things from the bleachers, this time just barely keeping out of the dangersafe areas.
“What is this now?” Violet pouted at her friend’s back as she walked away.
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The tall girl was dressed to the nines in a black pantsuit that featured leather along the front and cuffs, and a dark button up that did a lot to hide her build with a tall, elegant silhouette. Her short hair was slicked back and tousled at just the right places to break away at the seriousness of her look, and pull attention back to her blue eyes. She wore a bit of makeup to counteract her baby fat cheeks, and a pair of classy if humble heels finished the get up.
By contrast, Violet’s elbow length hair refused to be controlled even though she soaked it to get rid of the sweat she collected in the sunny training field. Her training briefs and shirt did nothing but highlight her short stature. The tone of her skin refused to tan whatever reason, ever so slightly off the classical shades on either side. She knew she wasn’t really as bad looking as she thought of herself, but it was hard not to compare herself to all the rich and pretty mage kids that graced the halls of Alliance High.
Armed with their belongings - Violet with her school and training materials, Nora with shopping bags and what looked to be an armored briefcase - the girls let the staff know they were heading out early and began walking to the bus station. The dorms for Alliance weren’t on the main campus, if only because there was no room for them; the school campus might only be a few decades old at this point but no one planned for the student population to triple in as many decades, back in the 70s when school moved to hug the Open University.
The dedicated line was short enough that Violet didn’t have time to broach a conversation, let alone dig into the three tier bento Nora brought her, so they hunted down a quiet table in the courtyard.
“So what are we celebrating?” Violet asked in between mouthfuls, letting all manners and sensibility drop.
“Well, it’s been a couple of years since we had our fated encounter…” Nora grinned slyly, placing her hand on the briefcase. “But that’s not it. We’re celebrating me outdoing myself.”
Violet hummed. She was surprised Nora referenced their first encounters - sure it evolved into a friendship for the ages, but those weren't good times for her friend. “So what’s in the case? I’m surprised you didn’t get mugged.”
“You’ll see soon enough. In fact, I need to get things ready... do you have everything you need to wash up? I’d rather you don’t come into the room while I’m preparing.”
“Plotting much?” Violet laughed. “If you leave my stuff outside I’ll head straight to the showers.”
“Good,” Nora picked all her things and left for their room in the dorms. “I’ll see you soon, then.”
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A sudden bout of ambivalence washed over Violet in the shower. Things were going good for them… too good even. She was running circles around any of the juniors who were dumb enough to challange her to duels, and she was keeping up with her academic studies thanks to Nora’s tutoring. She was also starting to have a social life, surprisingly, thanks to Lily and Dimitry.
But soon enough reality is going to hit her, she knew. Her family was going through a rough patch. The seniors were getting anxious and starting participating in the rankings much to everyone’s chagrin.
As good as things were in training, if things didn’t change - and fast - she was going to fall behind; where she was given an HDM to augment her mana reserves, Nathan had ten; whenever she went to the school’s training dummies, Shani and her clique took the trip to a firing range an hour away. Even the food at school, which was better than anything she’d eat at home, couldn’t compare to the bento she just ate - light as it was and made of wildlands ingredients.
“You ready yet?” Violet knocked on the door. Despite being still early, she wore the polka dot PJs her friend set out for her.
“Yeah, come in.”
She walked into the room to find all their stuff tossed to the sides, not that she brought a lot with her, and Nora turned on the radio to it’s full volume. The world outside drowned out.
"... In other news, newly appointed Master of Sydney Tower, Magister Von Shultz, has stated on record yesterday that the city was augmenting their immigration policies. Included in the movement are major tax breaks and real estate opportunities, to further incentivize talent acquisition and international investment. His announcement included retroactive benefits towards early volunteers…”
Nora arranged dozens of little details and materials on the floor in a vaguely familiar set-up, with the armored briefcase in the center.
“WHAT’S GOING ON?” Violet couldn’t hear herself shout.
A silent message bloomed in her ear, and Nora led her to the center of the impromptu ritual spot.
“If you hadn’t figured it out yet then I’m gonna start reading Fundamental Rituals to you while you sleep.” Nora gushed with excitement. “I added additional wards to the room, but I don’t have the mana to complete the mandala or light the fox-fire candles.”
“Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is…” Violet pointed to the briefcase.
Nora picked it up and moved to hand it over. “It’s exactly what you think it is. Finish up the prep work and you’re good to go.”
“So it’s a spirit? Where did you get this?”
“A high tier spirit. And it doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters!”
Nora deflated, she moved to lean on the desk she shoved to the side. “It really doesn’t.”
Violet huffed, and Nora’s features revealed how tired she really was.
“V, you need to understand - high tier spirits don’t go on auction, not ever. They’re traded behind closed doors or stored in family vaults for centuries on end, just in case. So no… it doesn’t matter to you where or how I got this spirit, what matters is that it’s sitting on this table, right in front of you.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Violet couldn’t stand idly anymore, the briefcase was burning a hole in her chest, and she had to purge the nervous energy that was breaching through every pore in her body. She opened the briefcase just to make sure, snapped it shut and walked out the door. “Just… give me a few minutes.”
After an hour of letting her mind and body wander around the four floors of the dorm, she came back to see Nora sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, talking to her message bracelet in private mode. She barely let Nora finish her conversation.
“I got two questions.” She said, though she wasn’t quite able to look Nora in the eyes.
“That’s fine.”
“Did… did you perhaps… you didn’t - “
“My body isn’t worth ten thousand CCs,” Nora interrupted. Her sly grin turned foxish in how much she enjoyed watching Violet squirm with the question. “As much as we wish it was. God, that would have made things so easy.”
Violet nodded. Nora was right, it was a stupid question, even if she felt she had to ask. Nora never had classical beauty to count on - she always was slightly too tall and slightly too chubby. There was also her penchant for androgeonous silhouettes, but that was neither here nor there.
“And just to put out there, I didn’t sell my soul either.”
“Okay, thank you. For everything.”
Nora’s features softened.
“My second question though… is what happens if I say no?”
“Then the spirit disappears,” Nora answered with a hint of whimsy. “Nothing lost, nothing gained - but sitting on something like this was never an option.”
“You won’t hate me? I really appreciate what you must have gone through.”
“I’ll hate you only if you keep stalling,” Nora got up and stretched long and hard, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Start the ritual already. I’m gonna order dinner for later and hit the shower myself.”
Violet chucked. Nora was right that she was procrastinating, and that this was going to be a long evening. After completing the finishing touches she picked up the briefcase and sat cross legged in the center of the mandala, carefully taking out the spirit core and hugging it to her chest. The spirit core practically oozed with power. Motes of elemental mana suffused the room and made it feel stuffy.
Violet began the process with a breathing exercise, tuning out first Nora’s inquiry as to what she wanted for dinner, then the stupidly loud radio, before turning her sights to her astral soul and the spirit within the core. The power coming from the spirit threatened to devour her, but she pushed through with ritual aided determination. There was also an element of trust involved - trust that whatever this thing was, Nora would make sure it would be good for her.
She let herself be the eye to the spirit’s storm.
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Nora fled the room and took her shower as soon as things got intense.
If she was being perfectly honest, just being near the spirit core was a suffocating experience, and the ensuing battle of wills had distilled fears in her she’d been suppressing since she first met Violet.
By the time she returned to the room, full of takeaway spaghetti and meatballs, it was well past nine in the evening. The other girls in the dorms said some mean things, but it was understandable given the stunt she was pulling with the radio.
“I’m not cleaning this,” she mused.
The room lost all sense of familiarity, taking on the persona of a disaster zone. The kitchenette was useless now, a large portion of study materials had turned confetti, both their mattresses were piled in an interesting angle, and the light glyphs were flickering haphazardly.
She turned off the radio and realized that Violet shifted to the bed, but couldn’t be arsed to actually lie on the frame. The petite girl looked like she traded some weight for longer hair, somehow, and her skin turned a sickly pallor - but deep breaths indicated she was sleeping soundly, most likely.
After covering her friend with a blanket, Nora placed Violet’s portion of the italian meal in the now defunct fridge, then punched a glyph on her messaging bangle with a sigh. “Dean Horman?”
“Miss Stark? This is my personal glyph - how in… never mind. Let me guess, Helena gave you this glyph?”
“She didn’t, actually.” Nora lied, filing away the man’s use of her schoolmate’s first name in her mental cabinet - oh how she wished she could record messaged conversations. “You shouldn’t assume.”
“This isn’t the best time, but... your absence today was noted, and so was your disappearance on wednesday.”
“Funny, that. I have a very good reason for today, actually.” Nora felt her trademark grin lengthen. “In fact, me and Violet have a bit of a show and tell lined up for you - can we meet you tomorrow before first period?”
“It’s ‘Miss Tensen and I’; and stop being smug, Miss Stark.”
“Sorry, Dean.”
“I’ll be at my office after first bell - but you two are welcome to wait with Mrs. Hertz ‘till I walk in. I’ll let her know.”
Despite just being called out for it, Nora couldn’t help letting her opinions on the man slither into her voice. “Thanks Deany.”
“Don’t call me on this glyph again.” The man hung up without pleasantries, but Nora knew the call went well.
She slept on the pile of mattresses and pillows that night. It was the best night of rest she’d had in weeks.
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Jeaneen Hertz, the Dean’s secretary, was the nicest adult Nora had the pleasure of knowing - meek as a mutton, gracious as a lady-in-waiting, and boasting a talent for brewing coffee that eclipsed the rest of the northern hemisphere. The woman also had a fine taste in interior decor, but lacked that finesse when it came to makeup: her mishaps in that regard were often and well renowned.
But that was good, because Nora bonded with her over magazines and light conversation while she waited for the Dean and Violet to finish their meeting.
The woman was too good for the school - if Nora ever needed a secretary, she’d know who to look up.
Talentless as she was in her vocation, Nora did practice her divination as often as expected of a highschool acolyte - which was the only reason that she caught, under sensory enhancement, the headmaster barging out of his office with a jubilant face, before staring at her with surprise and concern, then switching his gaze to a mid distance passive brooding - all in less time it took for Mrs. Hertz to sneeze.
“Bless you,” she got three blessings in return.
“Follow us, Miss Stark.” The headmaster took to the hallway like a storm.
Violet had a million HDM smile plastered to her face, so Nora just grinned slyly, knowing what was coming.
“Who’s in the chair?” Horman barked at the technician the moment he walked through the door.
“Demitri Turgenev just sat down.”
“I was looking forward to his progress, too.” the headmaster huffed. “Anyway, get the lad out and tell him to come back in an hour; in fact, bump down the whole schedule, and tell the students. I’ll update the staff.”
Confused at the ejection from the hot seat, Demitri looked towards Nora for answers, but the headmaster’s commanding glare left no room for communication of any kind. The moment Violet sealed herself in the cognizance chair, with an order to ‘stay in for as long as she needs to get a handle on the situation’, Horman gestured for Nora to follow him to a secluded corner behind the building. He took out and lit a cigarette in a smooth motion - and no matter what people said about cigarettes, he looked cool doing it.
“We’re going to talk out here, because I have a feeling you like my office too much.” He leaned casually on the wall, looking down at her despite being of similar height.
“Not at all. I find your taste in useless knick-knacks to be… somewhat tasteless, to be honest. You should really ask Jeaneen to-”
“Mind yourself, Miss Stark.” He inhaled, ruminated silently for a few moments, before exhaling a long stream of smoke. “On a scale of one to ten, how much do I need to fear for either of your lives?”
Nora thought about it for a moment. “I’d imagine a three.”
The headmaster lifted an eyebrow in a way that Nora wished she could emulate. “And the lives of the other students?”
“Nominal, Violet will figure it out soon enough.”
“While not baseless - not completely, anyway - that is a lot of trust and pressure to put on a fifteen year old, Miss Stark.”
“Violet deserves that trust.” She locked eyes with the magus, but she had a feeling they weren’t seeing each other eye to eye.
“What about school property?”
“Six or seven?” She shrugged. “No worse than last year.”
“We had to re-ward the stadium last year; that’s a horrible point of comparison.”
“Sorry, four or five then.”
“I’ll be honest, there’s only a handful of people out there who could manifest a spirit of that caliber in a spring afternoon. None of them live in Israel. I’m of half a mind to kneel; the other half wants to lock you up for your own protection.”
“Um… okay?” Nora cocked her head, pretending to not be sure how to respond.
“It’s a compliment,” Horman chided. “Accept it with more grace.”
“Thank you for the compliment, David.”
Losing his temper, Dean Horman huffed… then he puffed. “Okay - let’s get a couple of things straight:
“First, mind yourself. It’s not Horman, not Deany either, and it’s certainly not David. My name is Dean Horman to you, or Magus Horman.” The man took a couple of steps towards her and stood taller, his aura turned pressurizing. “Or if you insist on being familiar, you may say sir.”
She couldn’t look at the headmaster anymore, her soul itself averting her gaze towards the outer fence of the school complex. The memory of her experience with the spirit core burned a determined fire in her; there will be a day, as soon as she could make it happen, that she wouldn’t let presence alone turn her like undead before a cleric. Knowing it was coming didn’t make the aversion any less powerful.
“Do I make myself clear, Miss Stark?”
“As crystal, sir.” She meekly acquiesced.
“Second, you’re officially on probation. If you so much leave class to powder your nose, you’ve got detention. If you skip school, it’s suspension instead. And if you pull another stunt like opening ceremony ever again, it’s handcuffs; I’ll press the charges myself.”
Good. Nora let the thought bubble up and dismissed it quickly. Things were playing out like she’d hoped, if a bit differently. The more the headmaster focused on trying to pin things on her, the less attention he was going to pay to the things she was actually planning. Classic sleight of hand, sure, but often simpler was better.
He wasn’t finished, obviously, so she prompted him with a nod.
Even after the prompt, he took his time to smoke a bit more, apparently feeling better about putting her in her place. “And third, I’m hooking you up with a colleague of mine.”
“Sir?” Nora tried to look at the man again, but he was a blank slate as far as she could tell; his aura was still messing with her senses.
“You’ve got a brain, that’s obvious. But it’s screwed in all wrong. I don’t have the time nor patience to set you straight, and neither does the rest of the faculty. Good thing I called him in yesterday after our little talk, because he’s gonna make a mage out of you yet. He’ll meet you after your detention today.”
There was a lie in there, somewhere, but Nora couldn’t make heads nor tails of the escalation - not with his presence hammering her faculties like a construction golem.
“Lastly, this cute little relationship you got going with Miss Tensen? It’s a crutch, and a bad one at that. I’m ending it. From now on, you two are in direct competition. If she’s challenged to a duel, you’re against her; I’m signing you both up to lead your own teams for the year-end competition - hell, I want the two of you up in arms for phys-ed; you’ll do everything solo if you can’t find another student to partner with.”
Did the Dean just go from idle to overland without an incantation? Where was this coming from? She felt like a deer in daylight, having lost control of her jaw and practically shivering at how fast Dean Horman went off script.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on your progress - and if I find out you so much as round a decimal the wrong way to give your friend an edge, I’ll end both of your scholastic careers. Don’t test my divining talents, because you won’t like the results.
“We’re done here.” He tossed his cigarette with a dramatic flourish and started walking away. “Oh, I nearly forgot. My office does not have an open door policy, Miss Stark; I’ve got a highschool to run, and Councilor Schor is very good at his job. You can turn to him for anything: school related or private. He believes in the whole ‘student privacy’ thing to boot, so you’ll get along nicely.”