Never in Mark’s life would he thought that the Order would teach their future monster hunters in a classroom with individual desks and such. Taking notes from America, huh. Mark thought to himself while he leaned back into his chair, making him stick out like a sore thumb as everyone else sat up straight and gave the lecturer their undivided attention. Mark couldn’t help himself but feel left out that everyone else in the class had a stick up their asses, or so he would joke.
The lecturer was explaining what monsters are, more specifically, what makes a Horrifica. Mark had a simple answer to that question. To him, it is best summarised as anything that doesn’t evolve but instead affected and made by the winds of magic. There is more to the idea, but Mark couldn’t care about the finer details in what makes a monster a monster. To him, a Horrifca could be a spirit, a ghost, bacteria, a virus, or a creature that has blood and organs. Yet no matter what, it could never evolve, because, to Mark’s understanding, they are genetically locked and forever stagnant. While it can theoretically make a Horrifica virus easier to treat because it won’t physically change, it does have its own host of problems due to it being made with the pure essence of magic.
How were monsters made? How is magic used to create monsters? Those questions Mark didn’t have the answers to, nor did he care to find out. All that mattered to him was what bullet he would needs to take out a target, the details were meaningless to him.
Yet the class didn’t bore him completely. While he skipped class explaining the uses of magic. His lecturer did confirm one of his suspicions about the functionality of magic. More importantly, how fluid the rules are.
‘Alright class, since we have an exam on Thursday, I need to provide a quick catchup on the rules of magic, so everyone understands the basics.’ The lecturer said, turning to Mark with a disapproved look. ‘There are many schools of magic and methods to achieve the same goal.’ With a click of her fingers, a small flame appeared above her thumb. ‘Some schools will require the user to perform a certain action for a spell to work. Others, to conjure a small flame like this might require me to say a certain word, perhaps use my breath to create fire, others might even require the use of an item for the spell to conjure into existence.’ With a wave of her hand, the flame disappeared. ‘Of course, we are all aware of the consequences of failing to perform the spell, each school has its own rules to perform magic and if you are specialising in a certain school, you must be knowledgeable of its own rules to prevent injury or death. Let it also be known that you can’t mix two schools with conflicting rules, that would be one quick trip to the Realm of the Dead if there was one. But the main thing to remember is regardless of the school of magic and the rules associated with those schools. All schools have a fundamental truth, and that is that all schools require the same energy source for it to function.’
For the remainder of class, she explained the fuel source of magic. The power and weight of a soul. All souls are equal, all have the same magical charge. Yet not all souls are complex in design; the complexity of a soul is what angels and demons need to procreate, which is the soul of a human and the soul of a kit. However, the fundamental truth is the weight and power of a human soul are the same as a single-cell organism. A truth that is heartbreaking for Mark, but one that provided him comfort he had something in common with a maggot.
The reason souls are necessary is because it is the spark that all organic material needs to be alive. A foetus would remain dead, its heart still until a soul manifested and jolted the heart awake. People confuse souls with bioelectricity, but in truth, they are one and the same. All living organisms are connected to magic, however, the relationship to magic is a minor one at best. A soul is only necessary during the conception of life, once everything is working one could remove their soul and continue living without any complications.
Where did souls come from? How do they come into existence? Mark didn’t care to pay attention, it was a field of science that bored him. While the field of science required an understanding of maths to fully comprehend the inner workings of magic and the soul. Mark knew it would be a field also filled with secrecy, myths, paranoia, superstition, and dangers.
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Mark knew Jackson thrived and understood magic, even if he couldn’t use it. Even if Mark couldn’t tell if Jackson did it deliberately or not, but the further pursuit of knowledge within the mystical sciences was to him a suicidal adventure. Mark loved maths because the knowledge of equations and formulas wouldn’t mean certain death. But magic is different, the knowledge of spells and the arcane could corrupt the mind and the soul. The reptile accepted the risk, and that made them a weapon of death. Mark would never accept it, even if it meant saving the world. There were too many risks involved to justify the rewards.
When it was time to leave and as he left his classroom to get lunch, he rubbed his eyes and yawned. Though sitting alone on a bench in the university’s open garden. Mark smiled as he noticed Jackson reading textbooks and writing down notes. He found it funny that the reptile was wearing a regular T-shirt and jeans compared to his usual outfit which made him bulky and large.
‘I didn’t expect to see you here of all places.’ Mark commented as he sat down across from the reptile.
Jackson continued reading his medical textbooks, not bothering to look up. ‘75 years of medical advancements, I need to catch up and retake a few tests if I want to renew my licence and doctorate.’ He coldly replied, his tone making it seem the reptile was disinterested in study.
Finding it amusing, Mark chuckled. ‘I never thought someone like you was a doctor. What are you? A surgeon?’ Jackson didn’t reply, he kept his silence as he wrote on his notepad. ‘Oh shit, you actually are.’
‘Language.’ Jackson sharply replied.
Mark rolled his eyes, not understanding how someone so casual with killing had a thing for swearing. He glanced at Jackson’s notes and noticed how they were not writing down anything from the textbooks. Instead, his notes are more or less a checklist of what changed and what didn’t. ‘So what are you writing down?’
‘A list.’ Jackson bluntly replied, confirming what Mark already knew.
‘Why? Don’t you need to write notes for, I don’t know, your exams?’
Before Jackson could reply, he took out his pill bottle and chewed on two pills before swallowing. ‘No, I already memorised everything. Just checking.’
Unconvinced, Mark leaned back and folded his arms. ‘I doubt you can remember all of that medical jargon. I need some proof.’
‘Three weeks ago, I caught you with Roxy having intercourse on our couch. She has a mole on the left side of her abdomen; you tried to tell me how you thought I was still on a mission and didn’t expect my return and…’
‘Wait!’ Mark interrupted Jackson. ‘How did you know her name? And why did you mention her?’
Jackson kept writing on his notepad and reading his textbooks. ‘You told me her name a week prior to when I caught you. I also doubt you’ll understand what I say.’ The reptile replied as he looked down at his notebook.
‘Okay, fine. I believe you.’ Mark lied, still unconvinced that Jackson had perfect memory. ‘But why a doctor? I always see you going on missions to kill monsters and not saving lives.’
‘Because I like the idea that soldiers like me don’t exist in the future.’ Jackson’s blunt and cold reply felt sincere to Mark, he could tell that there was a great pain to his words. Though he preferred to not pry to open up old wounds.
‘In that case, I better be off and leave you alone. See you later, alligator.’ Mark stood up and walked away, heading to the nearest food court.