The next morning. Faculty of Applied Magic

Lecture hall 4

It wasn't as if the door had suddenly flown open and the new professor had entered the lecture hall with thunderous footsteps. No, when Norman thought about it, he hadn't heard the door or the footsteps and he had just been having such a good conversation with a nice redhead about the latest episode of "Angel", the Buffy spinoff, that he hadn't even been looking in the right direction. Nevertheless, he had noticed the professor's presence as well as all the other gossiping and fooling around students. Like one man, everyone suddenly fell silent, turned around and then frantically slid down from their desks to take their seats.

The hall seemed to get smaller, as if the space was not enough to contain the professor's charisma and ego. It made no difference to his dignified appearance that he was wearing jeans and a yellow, red and green Hawaiian shirt. And despite the mirrored sunglasses, everyone immediately sensed when his eyes fell on him. The man strode confidently to the table behind the lectern and swept his hand through the air in an imperious gesture. Flaming letters wrote his name across the board. "Professor Majere"

"You will call me Professor Majere. No abbreviations, no nicknames." While his deep, practiced speaker's voice echoed through the hall without any visible electrical assistance, he scrutinized his audience with a deadpan expression. He placed his black briefcase on the lectern, opened it and briefly leafed through what looked suspiciously like an old-fashioned class book: "I see we again have some non-magicians who have chosen this course as an elective. In principle, of course, I support this commitment to broadening one's horizons. But I don't like the criteria on which many base their choice. A subject in which you can skip all practical exams and exercises because you can't do them without the gift anyway is a tempting choice. And on top of that, you can watch all sorts of interesting 'magic tricks'. I trust that the people in question will refrain from interrupting my lessons."

He leaned on the lectern with both hands and smiled relaxedly at the audience. Then suddenly, he hit the lectern with both fists. A thunderclap echoed through the room, knocking three of the students off their chairs in surprise. Majere leaned forward, his voice sounding laboriously controlled: "And now get to the back row, where I don't have to see your useless faces. And if any of you dare to disturb my lessons by even breathing loudly, I won't need to ask for any more volunteers as test subjects for the next final exam in transmutation. I hope we understand each other."

Norman, like everyone else who was addressed, started moving abruptly. Of the sixty or so students, about a third were now desperately trying to get to the back rows as quickly as possible. The professor continued in a completely calm voice. Norman wasn't yet sure whether he really had such mood swings or whether he simply enjoyed frightening and unsettling his students. "And from now on, I don't want to hear any more from you back there. If there's anything you don't understand or have questions about... look it up in the textbook."

A chubby student he didn't know almost ran Norman over when he suddenly stopped in the corridor. Without paying attention to his protests, he raised his hand and coughed loudly. The professor noticed him immediately: "You have a question, Mr...?"

"Zimmermann. Norman Zimmermann. I um... I don't think that's quite right. We all have the right to ask questions. After all, I want to understand the material, even if I'll probably never put it into practice."

"Probably? You certainly won't be using this in practice!" The professor briefly leafed through his class book. "Here we have it. Zimmermann..." He read an obviously lengthy entry for a moment in concentration. Then he looked up again: "Have any useful mystical abilities emerged in the meantime?"

"I wouldn't necessarily call it mystical, but I've had no problems keeping up in my main subjects so far. And with CAD programs..."

The professor choked him off with a snide gesture: "So nothing useful. Too bad. You would suggest that we organize our classes so that all students have the same opportunities?"

Norman hesitated. "Yes, but it depends..."

"So yes. Good. That's fine with me. Then we'll grade everything for this semester according to purely theoretical exams. Without the usual alternative practical demonstrations. I hope everyone here is familiar with the spelling for spell formulas?"

From the front rows, now occupied exclusively by magically gifted people, a suppressed swearing and groaning could be heard.

"Oh nooo..."

"Can't we just perform the spells instead?"

"That's worse than integral calculus..."

The professor pointed to a student sitting in the front row on the far right. Norman thought he remembered that he had been sitting there quietly and alone when he had come into the lecture hall, which was still almost empty. "I would like to briefly mention a new student. Mr. Kane Davidson will also be here with his basic training in magic..."

Protesting murmurs were heard in some corners. One of the students in the back rows felt well enough covered to shout loudly: "Kane's not new, he's about to take his final exams! I've known K-Man for years from the student parties on campus. He knows even advanced summoning spells. Why does he need the 'basics' of magic again?"

Majere let the confusion continue for a moment, then just raised his hand. The lecture hall immediately fell silent: "Mr. Davidson has actually almost completed his studies once. Only that he then thought it necessary to perform a somewhat unorthodox, self-invented spell at his final exam." He ignored Kane's incomprehensible grumbled remark. "I won't bore you with details now..." The expectant silence clearly showed that everyone in the audience was eagerly awaiting details. "... and therefore only this much: Mr. Davidson unfortunately has a severe case of amnesia. Among other things, he is missing his entire memory of the last three years. Everyone who knows him should introduce themselves again later. And now back to the lesson!"

Professor Majere straightened his back imperiously and began his lecture, his gaze constantly sweeping over the audience. Nothing escaped his attentive gaze: "Let's start right away. Today we're going to look at the absolute basics of magic. Fortunately, I can assume that all my students in this subject have at least read the first few chapters of the textbook as soon as they receive it."

Norman, who had only picked up his book from the library just before the lecture, tried to keep a completely neutral expression on his face.

"Some simple standard spells are already described there to such an extent that you can use them without any additional knowledge. Also, according to my list, some of you already have previous knowledge from your respective home countries. Lt's take a look at that. How many of you have already successfully cast a spell? Raise your hand!"

Leonardo was just one of many who timidly raised his arm.

"Well, that doesn't look too bad. If I subtract the non-magicians, that leaves just a dozen of you who have never actually used magic. I can live with that. You will stay after the lecture to arrange the necessary tutoring sessions. Anyone who hasn't performed a spell in three weeks, I'll classify as a non-magician for the rest of the semester." Majere's voice became a little friendlier, "There is no shame in not being able to use the gift because no one has shown you. We will go over meditation and concentration techniques until each of you understands the system. The principle is simple. To work magic is to give a command to the universe around you. For it to be carried out, it must be precisely formulated, contain the right symbols in the right order and be spoken in a steady rhythm without interruption. Theoretically, it is enough to think the formula with concentration, but until you manage this, you will have to recite an appropriate mnemonic sequence at the beginning. What happens if you change the rhythm in the middle?"

He pointed to a student who had been leafing through his textbook a little bored, presumably because he had already read these very basics. "Me? Erm... Well, if you change the rhythm, the command spoken so far is activated as it was spoken up to that point. The spell either fizzles out completely or it produces some totally unpredictable effects."

The professor nodded seriously: "Correct. Lucky you." The emphasis made it clear that the inattentive student would not have fared well if he had not known the answer. The general level of attention rose considerably.

"The next question is one of the first most frequently asked by beginners. Let's get this out of the way right away: why do some spells have to be learned before others?" This time he waited for a show of hands. Numerous hands went up as the students hoped to get a word in edgewise on the easy questions so they wouldn't fail the more difficult ones later. While Norman tried to pretend he was taking notes, Leo's hand immediately went up. However, the professor pointed to another student: "Mr. Schmidt?"

The man addressed had difficulty fitting his full body into the narrow seat. His voice sounded far too high for his massive size: "Our school system for magic is structured as a modular system. Individual spell sequences and magic techniques are always taught as completely usable spells. As soon as the student can use the spell successfully, it can be assumed that they have understood the necessary theoretical components. More complicated spells then build on several other spells. This means that you can immediately see whether you have understood the spell by using it in each learning section. It also takes only slightly longer than simply learning the formula in one go, but offers the advantage of having learned a whole host of other useful, smaller spells in the process. And, of course, you can then transfer your knowledge more easily to other spells that are based on the same principles."

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Majere nodded with satisfaction: "Short, complete and concise. Does anyone else have any comments on this topic?"

Leonardo was the only one to raise his hand again and answered after the professor had nodded to him promptly: "Well, from what I've read so far, the whole thing is very similar to the structure of old procedural computer programs. The simple spells form subroutines from which you can then assemble the more complex programs. The closest you can get to the whole thing is the programming language..."

He faltered when he noticed Majere's suddenly petrified expression. With grim determination, he stomped up the stairs of the auditorium until he stopped next to the nervously swallowing Leonardo. His voice sounded cold and emotionless: "Magic has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with this... this... garbage. And I will not tolerate any other opinion in my lessons! Do you understand that?"

Leo, who had slumped further and further into himself and seemed to be considering crawling under the bench, saw the reflection of his fear-filled face in Majere's mirrored sunglasses. He struggled to pull himself together and croaked out, "Understood.”

The professor looked at him sternly for a moment, then, obviously satisfied, he turned around and walked back down the stairs with a measured step. Halfway down, a row of benches further down and a little to his right, a soft, but quickly growing louder, cheerful pop tune rang out. His expression immediately hardened again and his gaze, which was piercing even with his eyes covered, whipped around to look for the cause of the disturbance. He had no trouble finding it in a student who was frantically searching his pockets for his cell phone. As soon as he found it, he quickly pulled it out and switched it off immediately. Before he could put it away again with an apologetic look, Majere made an imperious gesture and the cell phone, which was almost as good as new, was snatched from its owner's grasp and flew up into the air. For a moment it hovered on the spot, clearly visible, then it began to glow from within. Light smoke began to billow out of the connection points, then it lit up brightly and disintegrated into small, charred pieces that landed unerringly in front of their former owner. Majere continued on his way. He spared himself his usual reminder that cell phones were not allowed in class.

The rest of the lesson was quite tense, while all the students tried not to irritate him any further. Leonardo made a great effort to get back on his teacher's good side, but was not called up a single time. No matter how much he waved his hand.

At the end of the lesson, the professor briefly stopped the audience, which was already leaving: "I have two important pieces of advice for you. Firstly, think carefully about which spells you want to learn over the next few years and put together a timetable that will teach them to you in a sensible order. The Student Secretariat can always help you if you have any questions or refer you to me. These considerations are so important that I promise not to make anyone look like a fool in front of the whole class, no matter how stupid their considerations are. Not only will this save you problems later, but it will also save me a lot of whining. The second piece of advice is even easier, although I'm sure some of you will ignore it. It's the same every year. Once you understand the basics, you'll go out and pick a few simple spells and play around until you get one right. Most of you will opt for one of the basic elementary formulas, as these are among the most simply structured formulas. And here's the advice: do not choose the spell 'create fire' of all things."

Some students began to laugh, others remained silent as they were not sure whether the professor had intended to make a joke. The laughing students fell silent when they realized that not everyone was joining in the laughter. Students who had waited silently at first squeezed out a laugh. His voice and demeanor gave no clues. He calmly packed his documents into his suitcase and left the lecture hall. Only when the door to the teachers' exit had closed behind him and no one could see him, did an amused grin slide across his face.

* * *

Leonardo spent the following evening with a thick tome containing basic information on almost all known spells. It also contained numerous graphics, overview lists and diagrams that showed the connections between the spells. Almost every spell made it possible to learn a number of other spells based on it. And most of the spells aroused his interest in one way or another. He really wanted to learn them all, but this was where his eidetic memory reached its limits. Magic had just as much, if not more, to do with a mage knowing exactly what the spell was supposed to do and how to do it. Magic drew a great deal of information directly from the magician's imagination and will. Simply memorizing the symbols did not allow you to cast the spell. And to find out all the subtleties, he had to look up, learn and understand the structure of the formula, how it worked and, in some cases, related laws of nature and background information from the fields of physics, chemistry, medicine or biology. That took time. The textbook assumed that it would take about one to two months per magic formula if you had good teaching material and, of course, a teacher you could ask if you had any problems. Leo had gotten his first spell to work after about four weeks. Once he had understood the principle and with the considerable advantage in knowledge he had gained from his previous studies in most scientific fields, he estimated that it would take him a maximum of two weeks. Provided that he spent at least 8 hours a day studying.

He put the book aside, threw himself on his bed and went through the list of spells he really wanted to learn in his head. If he tried really hard, he would have learned them all by the time he was about... thirty-one years old. Provided he wasn't distracted by trivial matters like a job, a girlfriend, family or children. He sighed softly and began to radically whittle down his wish list. Soon he had reduced it down to a list of just under a dozen of the most useful spells for him. Including the ones he had to learn as a kind of side effect in order to understand all the components, he came up with a total of just under fifty spells. He probably wouldn't learn everything by the time he left the university, but if he was allowed to take a few grimoires with him, he could continue to work on them later.

He had already made some decisions before starting his studies in order to get the right courses. Now that he had been looking at the system for a while, it made sense to learn the basics of necromancy at the beginning. And everyone had to attend 'First Aid and the Basics of Healing Magic' anyway. He would probably have to learn a few spells that he didn't really have any use for, but three or four spells wouldn’t matter much.

At least he wouldn't have the problem of performing his first spell. He had already mastered the simplest illusion spell, but the textbook also contained a number of additional components. Sounds, smells and even tactile illusions. Relatively useless for free-floating illusions, of course, because even if you felt like you were touching a surface, your hand would move further even if you felt the resistance. And touch would shatter most illusions. He turned to a page of explanations and found some comments, indicating that this was more intended to create an illusion over an existing surface. A steel cabinet that felt like velour fabric, for example. He yawned extensively for a while, then continued his studies. After just a few minutes, he was completely fed up. The table of contents was completely haphazard. There was no index. If he was looking for something, he could leaf through almost the entire book. He couldn't work like that. He packed the grimoire and the other spellbooks he had borrowed from the library and from his buddy Archeron into his bag. Then he wandered over to the library. He just managed to be let in just before closing time. Using a key card he had forged months ago for fun; he gained access to the rooms at the back of the building that were actually closed to students. A large construction filled almost the entire room. A kind of conveyor belt contained books neatly lined up next to each other, which were pulled in one after the other. The construction automatically opened one page after the other with special gripper arms full of suction cups and scanned the page. Three monitors with keyboards were set up on a desk next to the machine. Leonardo connected the laptop he had brought with him to one of the USB ports and hacked into the scanning program with some long-prepared programs. He inserted the books he had brought with him into the work list, then placed them in the appropriate places on the treadmill and programmed the whole thing so that the scanned pages were written to a directory that was only visible and accessible to him. Then he sat down and waited impatiently until the current book had finished scanning. As always, he was impressed by the precision of the design. Not a single page had been skipped, not a single one creased. And this despite the fact that the book was an antique copy of the Bible with ancient, almost crumbling pages. On the second screen, he could watch as the scripture recognition program progressed. He could barely make out the printed pages, the text was recognized and saved quickly. The few handwritten pages took considerably longer. But as long as he watched, the device didn't make a single mistake. And only a few words were marked as 'unclear' because the device could not correctly identify some particularly innovative squiggles or damaged parts of the book. He changed a few more variables for the books he wanted to scan. When he was satisfied with everything, he crept quietly to the door and listened. Nothing could be heard. He opened the door and looked around. Nothing to see. If he could make it down the corridor to the next room, he would be back in the public area and could leave with the last of the library visitors. And tomorrow morning, all he had to do was come back before the first lecture, copy the scanned data, delete it from the computer and take his books back with him. Piece of cake. He managed a pretty good imitation of quiet sneaking. His slightly squeaky sneakers and the soft cracking of his untrained joints would certainly have disqualified him for a final exam as a ninja. The two men who had just stepped out of a room in the corridor around the corner were far less attentive than a ninja's teacher. They were also engrossed in an animated conversation and paid little attention to their surroundings. As soon as they turned the corner, however, they would not be able to miss Leonardo in the empty corridor.

Leonardo looked around frantically. The two would come around the corner at any moment and see him. He could see the grating of a ventilation shaft on the ceiling. If he jumped up, unhooked the grille briefly, swung himself in and closed it again from the inside... Yeah, right. As if he could have jumped up to the grille. With no other options, he opened the next door in the corridor at random, slipped inside and closed it again as quietly as he could. He found himself in a small storeroom for the cafeteria. Plates, glasses and cutlery for larger events were neatly stowed away on the shelves. He quickly grabbed a glass, pressed it against the door and then leaned his ear against it. Now he could hear the conversation in the corridor to some extent. The first thing he recognized was the old and precise voice of the librarian: "... and the Librum Noctae Eternum. That's all I'm prepared to offer. I will not give away the Book of the Infinite for all the Gallifreynium of your home world. It would be irresponsible to entrust the knowledge of the Primordial Gods to a bunch of irresponsible, uncivilized mead-drinkers."

He recognized his conversation partner's voice even more easily. The deep, penetrating voice seemed to be bursting with testosterone. It could only be that braggart Odwin. Leonardo was surprised at how unexpectedly diplomatically he ignored the insult to his people: "The deal stands. I will arrange for delivery on the agreed date. I will have a contract drawn up this evening and bring it over for you to sign, I suggest..."

The two got out of earshot again. Leonardo waited a while longer, then slipped away without further incident.