It was time for Mary’s first lesson, and she was dreading the experience. So far, official activities in this part of the world seemed so alien and bizarre, that she wasn’t particularly inclined to actively engage in any of them. It didn’t seem like she had a choice in the matter, though.
“It’s going to be all right, honey,” Margaret assured her, on their way to the particularly twisty and towery building, that almost didn’t look like it wasn’t going to fall over any moment now. Almost.
“Yeah, the classes are usually rather safe,” Hans seconded her. “Sure, there is all this stuff regarding twisting the essence of reality to your whim, which of course, could never go wrong. And every couple weeks, that guy manages to annoy some eldritch abomination with an incorrect gesture or set themselves alight with a faefire, or trip over and stab himself to death with a pencil, but…,” he shrugged.
“Oh sweetie, do you remember that guy from the basic shielding course? They said he split himself in half with a forcefield. I hear that’s so common that they almost got the funding for a proper first aid kit.” Margaret seemed as cheerful as always, with not a single trace of the seriousness from the lifeleak lesson. “Oh, and Marc from introduction to the magical creatures life and unlife?”
“Ok, but Marc really had it coming. Seriously, trying to give flowers to a dragon? What was he even thinking? Everyone knows they’re allergic to the stuff.”
“I hear he’s almost able to eat through a straw,” Margaret said. “The healing arts these days are almost miraculous.”
“Um… do you know what spell we’re supposed to be learning today?” Mary asked, trying to steer the conversation to some less horrifying topic. It shouldn’t be too hard, now… The small knife Margaret gave her this morning - the only material component for the first spell Mary had ever learned - weighed heavily in her pocket, way heavier than it had physically any right to. And, well - it made some sense, since the weight she felt wasn’t a physical thing. Just another not-a-thing hanging above her head, waiting to catch her unaware and crash at her at the least appropriate moment.
“Hm…,” Hans frowned. “I think it was something to do with battle spells. Margaret, do you remember what professor Slazzingar was saying, exactly?”
“Nope,” she shrugged. “I was busy trying to put out the fire on Kevin.”
“Oh, right. I guess he’ll never learn that fire isn’t, in fact, the answer to every problem that is thrown at us. I can’t even imagine what was he thinking.”
“Sweetie, technically, he did cause some parts of the feather to rise into the air,” Margaret shrugged.
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“I don’t think that blowing up stuff counts as levitation,” Hans considered. “Although, had it been me on the test, I’d probably try to argue it for at least half the points.”
Great, so point one: sit as far away from Kevin as humanly possible. Unfortunately, this also required a point zero: find out how to recognise Kevin, preferably from afar. Mary sighed and finally entered the building.
The entrance hall was a strange mixture of middle-age and much more recent styles, with old, uneven stones on the floor and modernly printed texts covering the walls. Directly from the entrance door, there was a big sign saying “DAYS SINCE LAST ACCIDENT: 2.” Mary turned her head around to take in as much as possible, and look for anything suspicious… well, unusually suspicious for this place, at least. Before she finished her inspection, a tall, bald man came to the sign and changed the digit to zero. Yeah… that helped with Mary’s confidence a whole lot…
Hans led the way, as any good carry was supposed to do - not that it had any practical purpose in here. This building was safe, and the mere presence of so many heroes, both professors and those still in training, should be enough to ward off any dangers. Mary was perfectly safe, and she had no reason to worry. Not at all.
The classroom they entered was very spacious, with a circle of chairs set up in the middle of the floor, and a circular desk placed in the middle like a small doughnut inside a larger one. All the chairs, probably including the professor’s one were swivelling, and contrasted with the otherwise old-looking room like an artistically squeezed out toothpaste served on a silver platter among dishes of roasted pork and stuffed ducks.
There were some students already occupying the chairs - Mary recognised Melanie waving to her from afar. She was surrounded by the wizards she took off with the day before. The others weren’t significantly less weird, though - one party consisted of a fully armoured knight, a… twelve-year-old nun, apparently, and a goth, playing with a knife. Mary wanted to learn the story behind those individuals… for about five seconds, before she realised how much happier she was not knowing.
On the other hand… Mary glanced at Margaret, who managed to make a point that yes, there was something that made her yesterday’s skirt seem decent in comparison, and Hans, who apparently thought that regular clothes were too ordinary for this place (he might have had a point, by the way…), and supplemented them with a mail shirt and a bunch of weapons. A quick glance let her catch two revolvers, two knives, one impossibly twisted and jagged sword, and one thing that looked like a sword and a rifle had a one night stand and forgot contraception. Mary had no idea how the thing was supposed to work.
All this metal did match well with Margaret’s silvery hair, which was nice. It was Mary who was starting to feel out of place, despite the knives she carried on her at the very moment - maybe she should show some of them, just to match the party theme?
They walked towards one of the emptier areas to take seats, leaving a single chair empty between them and the next party. It seemed customary, and Mary didn’t mind having at least a meagre buffer between herself and the weirdos - every boy could have been Kevin.
Two more parties arrived - one was unfamiliar to her entirely but looked fairly standard, and the other was the extremely underaged one, who took Roy at the selection ceremony. So, they did make it at least a day. Good for them, while it lasted. Once they were seated, only the buffer chairs remained empty. Mary wondered what would happen when the next team arrived, but the next person to arrive was an old, bespectacled, old, hunched over, old man. Oh, and he looked really, really, old. Half the time he used one of his canes, it was to move his white beard out of the way of his feet.
So, that would probably be their teacher. Oh, joy...