Chapter 20: Woden’s School

“If you must know, I am undercover,” I lied smoothly, much as my master would have. This seemed to put the two apprentices at ease.

“Why did you show yourself then?” the braver of the two, Staff, asked.

“I no longer believe you are capable of conducting this task unaccompanied,” I responded.

“What, just for that,” Staff said, pointing at Wand’s head. Wand seemed distressed, trying to get the other boy to shut up. Playing on Wand’s reaction I replied simply:

“No.” Giving them the I know what you did look that my master had been so fond of. It took me years to realise he did not, in fact, know that I was the one who had placed frogs in his boots. Lacking my experience the pair looked down, ashamed, clearly they had done something wrong.

“From this point on, I will follow you and observe,” I proclaimed. My curiosity had gotten me into this situation, I felt I should break up their fight.

“Yes Sir,” they both replied, dejected.

“Do you think we will get detention for that?” Staff failed again to whisper to Wand.

“Zip it,” Wand hissed back, stamping on the other boy’s foot and looking between him and me as I simply raised an eyebrow.

“Continue,” I said, stepping aside, gesturing further into the house. My face remained neutral as my mind whirred.

Why are they here? I thought. They were definitely apprentice mages, judging by their mana level. They also seemed to be associated with a school since they assumed I was a professor, a magic school? I wondered as I followed the boy’s through the crumbling mansion, they looked left and right with their sticks at the ready. On the back of their blue robes was embroidered a crest. The college of arms was named Woden’s school for the Magical Arts, the wording circled the image, at the bottom it said Manticore. The orle was invected and argent, the field was azure with an argent pail atop which stood a manticore rampant.

“Manticore,” I murmured.

“Please don’t take any points from Manticore house,” Wand Pleaded.

“Hmm,” was all I said in response as they continued their sweep of the manor. Life Sense and Soul Manipulation combined, showed me there was nothing but rodents on the property so I returned to thought.

A school for Magic huh? Sounded like just the place I wanted to visit. In my old world there had been records of great institutions which gave basic education on the arts to entire empires but they had all collapsed in the undead wars. In my time, no school for magic ever survived long. Too many magi wished to guard their knowledge and other figures of influence saw a school that taught magic as a political threat. I wonder if they’d accept someone of my age, it’s never too late to learn.

I was finally able to see the use of the sticks when a rat scurried into the corridor and Staff channelled an earth spell into his staff and a rock the size of a fist hurled out into the space the rat had been twenty seconds earlier.

Wand huffed, seeing this as an opportunity to demonstrate his wands superiority. Quick as a flash, a blade of wind sliced through the air, following the arc of the short stick he held. The fat rat was left with nothing more than ruffled fur as it escaped beneath the floorboards, through the hole Staff had made.

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Ahh, so that's what the sticks are for, I thought. I should’ve realised it really, atop Staff’s staff was a brown gem filled with earth mana. In Wand’s wand was a feather of some wind-magic bird.

The children seemed downcast, so I thought I might as well take this opportunity to teach them something.

“You,” I said pointing at Staff, who perked up, “you are overcharging your spell, that’s why it takes too long to cast. Your staff amplifies the spell's effects, it may be slower than a wand but not by much. And you,” I said turning to the other boy, “you can channel your mana very quickly, which is good, but you don’t follow the pattern precisely enough.”

“You mean the spell shape?” Wand asked, confused.

“Sure, whatever you call it,” I replied, adding “just watch how I do it.”

Slowly, for the kids' benefit, I replicated the Spell Shape that Wand had used, squaring the corners so to speak. Raising my hand a blade of air shot out, making a snicking sound as it scored a line an inch deep on a ceiling beam.

Wand only stared between me and the impact site. I turned back to Staff.

“And you, you have your spell shaping down pat, but you should cast faster,” I said.

Pointing at the ceiling, I copied Staff's spell and a pebble came out almost as fast as the wind blade. It hit the same beam, there was an ominous sound from the second floor. Dust fell and I winced before the house once again settled.

Congratulations:

* You have learned the Wind Blade Spell

* You have learned the Rock Throw Spell

“Perhaps that was a bad example,” I said, sheepishly.

“How did you do that?” Wand asked, stunned. I looked at him, uncomprehending.

“I thought you said he had a death affinity?” Staff asked, his mouth still stuck open.

Then it hit me. In this world, as in my old, people are born with an assigned mana affinity. At home, that meant they could only cast spells with ingredients that aligned with that mana type. From the shocked look on these two’s faces, I presumed it limited the type of spells one could cast here as well. It was a stupid mistake really, my pure mana production was something unique in my old world. It made any spell I cast relatively weaker, as I had to convert to that mana type, but I could use any spell ingredient, it’s part of why I became a researcher.

“Err…” I said eloquently, while my brain whirred, looking for an answer. Click.

“That's a secret,” I replied, with my best knowing smile. Drawing again from my master’s playbook.

When the jawus hangius was cured, I was peppered with questions. Once it became clear that I wouldn’t elaborate, the object of their interrogation turned to the spell techniques. On that topic, I was happy to share all the tricks of mana manipulation I had learned, stressing the need to practise slowly.

Many rats were slain as they took on my advice, continuing to search for whatever it was they were after. They didn’t find it on the first or second floor, or, indeed, in the attic. Finally, attention was turned to the basement.

“I think we ought to be cautious here, I should go down and check it out,” I told the lads.

“You think there really is a ghost down there?” Wand asked, hiding his fear.

“Maybe,” I replied, hiding my own relief. With great reluctance they accepted, but insisted on keeping guard with wand and staff. It seemed I had garnered some level of respect from my previous display. Plunging into the darkness I made sure to appear brave.

Once I was in the cellar, I navigated back around the piles of old furniture, paintings, and empty wine racks. When I came to the lightless alcove in which I expected to find Dante, waiting impatiently, I instead found the ghost of a rather portly nobleman.

With a great sigh, I asked, “Where's Dante?”

The rat-faced man sneered before answering, “if you wish to see your friend again you must answer my riddles three.” He twirled his thin moustache. I missed whatever happened down here. My Life Sense would never have picked either of them up but Soul Manipulation would have, if I’d only thought to look down.

“Nope,” I said, shortly.

“Y-what?” the pudgy rat-man wailed, shocked.

“Get down here you two and you might learn something,” I yelled back up to the kids. After all the effort I had gone to save Dante, I wasn’t gonna let some minor undead take him away.