Chapter 15

Their first class was called general magic. It was set in a large lecture hall just like the ones Jack had used during his short stint as a college student. There was a podium and chalkboard on the ground floor with most of the room being a set of wide steps, a long table, and a bench on each step. The major differences were the stationary and the lighting. At every station was a stack of parchment, a quill, a jar of sand, a blotter, and a bottle of ink. Light from the torches danced in the reflection of the ink bottle's glass. The chairs were simple and sturdy benches that were slightly padded with folded canvas...

Normally, Jack would sit in the back during his college lectures due to his tendency to be late getting off work. That didn’t sit well with him now. The idea of squireling Aster into a back row seemed almost sacrilegious. Her adorableness would stand out wherever she went like a bright ray of sunshine. So why not sit up front and absorb knowledge as much as possible?

There were a dozen people already sitting all over when the four of them entered the classroom. They were split into two groups. There were the rich kids, and what he guessed passed for the middle class. The rich kids were all under twelve years old and had decided to cluster in the back so that they could lord over the others. Their uniforms were made from a similar material as his own but there's were intricately embroidered with symbols and what vaguely resembled a European coat-of-arms. The difference being that theirs had intricate symbols instead of mundane objects in the foreground. It just seemed comical to him. Here were children that on earth would be too young to be left alone, acting morally superior to their elders because of the circumstances of their birth. He just had to accept that this was the way of this world and move on. The rich always believe themselves to be cool kids, typical. Everyone else seemed to come from all walks of life. They represented a mix of ages, clothing styles, and ethnicities. One guy was significantly older than him.

Several of the noble brats had given him dirty looks upon his arrival. He had been getting a lot of those. Most of the nobility had sided with this Cassius fellow and decided that Jack wasn’t ‘one of them, on top of him being a foreigner. It didn’t help that new hate signs had been posted in front of the building last night. I’ve gotten those looks all of my life. You just keep on glaring kids.

Lillian had bid them farewell soon after lunch, taking all the lunch trays with her. He didn’t know what she did when he was in class but he expected that the lock on the door to his room wasn’t going to stop her if she was so inclined.

Jack and Aster sat down while Virtus hovered behind his charge. The two siblings had a whispered conversation. All he could tell was that Aster's voice was frantic and Casper’s was reassuring in a ‘you got this’ tone. Casper must have gotten his way, for he left after a moment. From the look on her face, she would have been happier if he had stayed.

The door next to the lectern slammed open and a harried man came through, tail-end first. The reason became clear when it was clear that the man was attempting to carry a tall stack of crates as tall as himself. Inside were a variety of bits and bobs that Jack didn’t recognize. He swore that one of the boxes snarled. After some maneuvering, the boxes thudded unceremoniously to the floor next to the lectern. With the obstruction gone the man’s upper half was now visible. Scraggly brown hair sprouted up from his head in every direction. His pale face had heavy smile lines and his hands were callused. Covering his emaciated frame was an elaborate robe that all faculty members wore. The only unique feature being the ornamentation on the collars. Jason had spotted several professors in passing and this man’s collar was barren compared to theirs.

“Hello class my name is professor Fabian and I will be your general magic instructor. In this class, we will cover the basics of many subjects. Before we start, I am aware that none of you are Magi yet. All prospective Magi in the academy are required to complete the first semester before being allowed to bind a sigil. The exceptions being the nobility with individualized teaching programs, but they don’t need to take this class so the point is moot.”

He walked over to the blackboard and grabbed an oblong chunk of chalk. In a few strokes, he wrote the word ‘Magic’ in the middle. “Can anyone tell me what magic is?”

A young teenager, in far too much bling, in the back raised his hand lazily. Professor Fabian pointed to him and said. “You, in the back.”

The teen put on a condescending look as he scanned the room. “Magic is the ability to cast spells.” He finished with a pleased grin.

Fabian was obviously disappointed by the simple response. His whole body language showcased whatever emotion he was feeling at that moment. “I didn’t ask what Magi can do with magic. I asked what magic was. Does anyone else know what magic is?”

Jack had an inkling of where this was going. He didn’t have the obvious conditioning that people in this world grew up with, which made him an outside observer. So his limited knowledge was more objective. The professor seemed to expect someone to just jump up and wave vigorously at him, or something. He certainly wasn’t about to volunteer. That would just be dumb. No need to show up the rich kids.

Silence filled the lecture hall. After an uncomfortably long time, Fabian seemed to finally understand that this wasn’t going to change. He let out a long sigh and pressed on. “Disappointing, disappointing, can no one tell me anything? You are all here to become Magi after all.” He clapped his hands together loudly and took a deep breath. “Magic, class, is the phenomenon that appears when mana is channeled through a medium to create an effect. I am aware that this definition is vague. There are so many forms of magic that an exact definition is all but impossible. At one point in history, there were more than a thousand magical traditions. Over time this sizable number has whittled away to only three major factions.”

“First, there are our northern neighbors, the Samsonites. They practice Mysticism, they craft vessels of great magical potential and bind it to a phenomenon found in nature. They separate the mana types in their cores and keep the mana that is compatible with that power. When they cast a spell the mana goes into the vessel and creates an effect that alters their environment. They possess incredible range and can easily create lasting effects.`` He pulled out a small orb filled with swirling mist. With a small chant too soft for anyone to hear, he sent a pulse of power into the sphere. A small cloud of mist came out of the sphere and filled the room for a moment before evaporating. With a gesture, Fabian returned the sphere to his robes. “Out of all of the remaining magical systems, it is the most versatile out in the field. Yet they lack the sheer power or customization of other magic users.”

“Cultivators absorb and purify mana in their cores. They do not immediately attune to any natural phenomenon, instead, they focus on turning their mana inwards, reinforcing their bodies. This empowers them till they become living weapons. Once they reach past the novitiate level, they can bind themselves to a natural phenomenon and fuel what they call techniques. These are spells that focus on altering the human body or immediate environment. Their physical prowess is uncontested in direct combat but they lack the ability to utilize their power efficiently at range.”

Fabian took a step forward, or did he? Suddenly the erratic man was standing twenty feet away. He was starting down a small wooden mannequin that Jack hadn’t noticed before. Swirling white light covered Fabian's fit. Then he threw a powerful haymaker right into the mannequin's chest. Jack noted that he had good form. His old man had made him watch a lot of boxing matches on top of all the street brawling he had endured at a later date. The mannequin exploded in a swirling white flash. Wood shards pinged off in every direction like a frag grenade. Everyone ducked.

After all the wood shards had finished falling, people started to come up from under the tables. The shrapnel was so bad that it covered every corner and was embedded in the wall and the podium. Slowly, Jack lifted himself off of Aster. When the explosion happened, he had dived in her direction. “Are you okay?” Virtus asked Jack.

The guardsman was holding a shield between the podium and their location. Where he had gotten it was anybody's guess. He certainly didn’t have it a minute ago.

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“I'll be fine. I didn’t get hurt.” He turned to examine Aster. She was curled up in a ball, her posture defensive. “Are you okay? I’m sorry for touching you like that, but it was an emergency.” At his words, she looked up at him and her eyes softened a bit. Jack squirmed in discomfort for a second before he moved one seat over. Aster exhaled softly before peeking over the top of the desk at where the explosion came from. What she saw must have been enough as she started to uncurl slowly after that.

A voice came from the podium. “Sorry everybody, it seems that I do not understand my own strength. That was a new technique that I have been working… Well, that’s not important I guess.” He scratched his head before sending out another swirl of mist. This time it came from his hand. As it traveled across the room, everyone’s injuries closed and their complexion improved.

“This brings us to the last of the common magical traditions, our own. Magi bind the phenomenon of creation into our own cores. In this form, they are called sigils. Each sigil is the personification of primal power or, more simply put, an element. This bond gives us great control of mana from our foundational element. That isn’t the end though, as we grow stronger we can bind more sigils to our foundation sigil, allowing for the creation of multi-elemental spells. The spell I just used was a great example. That was a spell that mixed the sigils Mist and Regeneration to create a mass healing spell called Revitalizing Mist. I invented it myself.” His expression was so smug that Jack bet he could give the pompous idiot in the back a run for his money in a sneering contest.

He turned to the blackboard. “Now it’s time for the practical part of the class. For the second portion, we will be going over the ten most common sigils. Every day we will cover another ten sigils.” He started drawing a familiar symbol on the board. “This, everyone, is Fire.”

…

When the bell rang, the class had only covered five of the sigils. Professor Fabian would write out the sigil and explain the various components. That actually didn’t take long but then he started to show the various ways one could alter the sigil to make different ones. So for each of the five sigils, he was supposed to show them he created three or four offshoot sigils.

The basic sigils they had covered were Fire, Earth, Water, Air, and Thunder. What interested Jack were the three Fire sigils he had learned. They were Char, Heat, and Smelt. Each one had a different purpose and effect. Char was an aggressive flame that turned everything to ash. It had two black bars that crossed at the bottom that was reminiscent of charcoal. Heat was control over warmth, it could turn an icebox into a sauna. It had three red, wavy marks that you could find on your space heater. Smelt was one of the preferred sigils for blacksmiths and refiners for it focused on exothermic reactions with a catalyst. Change through being exposed to flame. It had a silver trapezoid in the center. All of them sounded fantastic to him.

He had made a ham-handed effort to make notes before realizing that writing like this was hard. Hard decisions had to be made, so he settled for just scribbling down the sigils and a one word description.

The bell had just rung, announcing the end of the first period. The meaning passed over Jack like a wave at high tide. It retreated from his perception before he could note it, he was so distracted. Magic enthralled him in a way that nothing on earth had. That was a dark place with shades of grey. This world, on the other hand, was full of radiance and color. It was intoxicating to the jaded young man. So he decided to do something impulsive instead of packing up to move on.

The spell model for his Fireball came to mind. It was a mix of a central sigil and these smaller symbols his master had shown him. These were not nearly as complex as the symbols on his signature spell but still took his full concentration to make. The sigil determined the source the spell drew from, whereas the interlocked shapes gave it form and function. The focus in the center of the Fireball spell was a simple Fire sigil. Jack replaced it with the Char sigil. Then he looked around for a good test subject to test his new creation on. He spotted the perfect target a few seconds later. His hand took the shape of a finger cannon, because why not, and pointed it at the remains of the wooden mannequin. A red ball with black tips solidified in front of his outstretched finger. When it was fully formed, It was about the size of a golf ball. It flew from his hands, with a mental command and made a crackling noise upon impact. Instantly, the ragged end of the post the mannequin had once rested on started to turn black, before collapsing into smaller briquettes.

Everyone turned from where they were putting their supplies away, to see the devastation. No one spoke for a moment as they took it in. Then Professor Fabian appeared from the chalkboard where he was erasing the sigils he had drawn. His hand reached into the smoldering flames and took out one of the briquettes. He sniffed it for a second, pondered on the smell, and decided it was a good idea to lick it slowly. No, Jack did not know why he did that. Everyone shivered or gagged in response to the strangely perverse action.

The professor ran back into his office and came out a bit later with a large metal box with a bar on the end. It was situated on a slide that could reach down and touch whatever it was placed on. Jack thought it looked like an old record player, only turned inside out. The professor put the dial on the spot where the spell landed and pressed one of the glowing symbols.

Sparks immediately arched out from the symbols and would have caught something on for if it hadn’t all been burned to ash already. Fabian held out a hand and sent a stream of Mist to envelop the device. The expression on his face was positively gleeful.

“IT FAILED! IT ACTUALLY FAILED!” Fabian squealed in delight.

That cheery outburst stilled as his gaze turned towards the source of the ash he had been playing with. His eyes locked with Jack's, for just a second too long, before he disappeared in a flash of white vapor.

Jack felt the air behind him shift and heard the rustle of cloth. He frantically turned to face the source of the disturbance. Professor Fabian was squatting on the table of the second row and was examining him through a strange monocle with several gears and other bits attached to its outer diameter.

“Fascinating!” Fabia gasped.

“Umm, professor, can you get off my notes please?” Asked a teenage girl standing in the second aisle.

Fabian hopped to the floor and made a strange hand gesture to the student. “My apologies, I will try to watch my step from here on out.” The student returned the gesture with slightly wider movements before scrambling to pick up her boot smeared notes.

“Young man, do you mind coming to my office for a bit? That spell you just cast was rather curious and could be very helpful in my research.”

Virtus interjected himself between them. “Professor, as his bodyguard I am going to have to insi-“

Fabian interrupted him with a sweep of his hand. “Shut it Ferrum, as a professor I outrank you both as a professional and socially so do not try to pull rank on me, and we both know you are not about to go running to daddy for help. I hear you two still haven’t made up after you ran off to join the military.”

If Jack had a ruler at that moment, he would have measured the gape of Virtus’ mouth, it was quite spectacular. Fabian turned back to him, eyes burning. “Student, I need to know how you just did that. It will dramatically improve my research. If you need incentive then I can help you get access to several academy resources.”

“What kind of resources?” Jack asked suspiciously.

Fabian threw his hands in the air. “Were you born in a barn, boy? Magical resources! They are the academy's specialty after all. We have facilities and opportunities that don’t exist anywhere else.”

Jack finally realized that he had just met the first person in this world that did not know who he was. “I was born in a different world. It’s my first day here. Wait, no it’s the second day now. So excuse me if I don’t know everything about this place.” He turned to pick up his papers before realizing that he had no backpack. Now that he thought about it, not a single one of the noble brats had one either. How did they gather up their notes then?

A very loud silence from the crowd reminded Jack that a very unstable man was standing right behind him. He rotated smoothly back to notice a look of confusion on the professor's face. “What do you mean you ‘were born in a different world’.” The man actually used finger quotations for the last part.

Virtus had worked up enough courage to speak again and responded with formal intonation. “Professor, this is the Adjudicator, Jack Hearth. He was summoned to this world yesterday morning.”

Someone chuckled from the peanut gallery. “Who’s the one born in a barn now?”

Fabian's face froze in slack-jawed amazement before he keeled over backward and landed a complete lack of any dignity against the table. The ink from a nearby pot spilled onto the professor's clothes. He must have forgotten to keep his balance. Jack mused idly. It was a few seconds before Fabian got up. Most of that time was spent staring at the ceiling and babbling too softly for them to hear.

With trepidation, he carefully stood up and examined him. It got to the point that Jack wondered if he was talking to a mad scientist and he was being slated for the dissection table when Fabian finally spoke up completely off-topic. “I notice that you lack a way to carry your supplies. If you come to answer my questions then I will give you a bag of holding.” He offered nonchalantly.

Excitement boiled Jack’s blood. The staple of every fantasy book or game was just out of reach. He could not possibly turn down this opportunity no matter how crazy this man was. He kept all of it off his face, which would weaken his position. Instead, he merely demonstrated mild curiosity. “Is that the kind of bag that is bigger on the inside?”

The professor put his lecturing tone back on. “A spatial bag or bag of holding, as most call it, is made by a Spatial Magi to hold a small dimension inside of it. Whatever you put into it weighs nothing. So will you accompany me to my office?”

“Ehem! The crown has already gifted The Adjudicator with a spatial bag as well as some considerable resources.” Virtus explained as he held Jack’s bag, which he wasn’t allowed to hold, up for display.

It was then that Jack felt a small tug on his waistband. When he turned to see who it was, he found Aster with her bag already packed and ready to leave. “Jack, could you go with me instead?” Her face turned the shade of sun-dried tomatoes from embarrassment. “I have no idea where our next class is and I need you.” By the end, she had thoroughly buried her face in her hands. This broke his heart in ways he just didn’t understand.

Jack sighed in relief at having a legitimate reason not to go with this man. That last question tripped his creep alarm. “Sorry professor, you will just have to schedule a time after school to meet up. Virtus could you lead the way?”

He bowed slightly. “It would be an honor to guide you to your destination, Lord Adjudicator.” Jack thought that was laying it on just a bit too thick but couldn’t blame him. Fabian had a thick skull.

“Excellent!” He looked at his syllabus. “Our next class is basic runes with professor Ferrum.”

The austere guardsman paled at the mention of where they were going. Professor Fabian just laughed at him. “Guess you are running off to daddy after all. That makes the wait completely worth it. I expect you to make time in your schedule to be my ex—I mean, take some tests.”

“Yes, professor.” He replied insincerely before leading the others through the throng of students that were trickling in for the second period, and out the doors.