Chapter 15: History of the Commonwealth
The bell’s chime resonated across the campus, signaling the end of the morning’s lesson blocks. Robert glanced at his schedule, noting the twenty-minute break before his next class. Students streamed into the open-air courtyard, where small clusters of conversation sprang up. The sounds of laughter and debate filled the air as students shared their thoughts on the day’s first lessons or simply took the time to relax before diving back into their studies.
Robert, however, preferred to keep to himself. He found a quiet corner under the shade of a large oak tree and pulled out his notes. The Magic Circle Theory class earlier had been more engaging than expected, but the general subjects, like the upcoming History of the Commonwealth, would likely demand more rote learning and essay writing than actual application.
‘Still,’ he thought, scanning through the neatly organized pages of his notebook, ‘it’s important to understand the structure of the exams. I’ll have to adapt to their format if I’m to excel here.’
As the break drew to a close, Robert made his way toward the history lecture hall, already mentally preparing himself. He’d overheard that Professor Reinhardt’s lessons were rigorous and focused on specific exam techniques. It wasn’t just about understanding history—it was about learning how to respond to the structured demands of the University’s testing system.
The lecture hall itself was a grand space, its walls adorned with maps and portraits of past monarchs and Archmages. The light filtering through tall windows cast shadows across the room, adding a sense of gravitas to the surroundings. Robert chose a seat near the middle and settled in, setting out his notebook and quill in preparation for the lesson.
As students filed in and took their places, a few exchanged glances and murmured comments about the upcoming lecture. Many seemed eager—perhaps because this was their first exposure to Reinhardt’s renowned teaching style. Robert noted the expressions of his peers with quiet interest. Despite their varied backgrounds, they were all focused and ready.
The door at the front of the hall swung open, and Professor Reinhardt strode in. In his early thirties, he was far younger than most would expect for a scholar of his stature, but the intensity in his gaze and the confidence in his stride left no doubt about his command of the subject. His youthful appearance contrasted sharply with his hair—shock-white and neatly combed back. He moved to the center of the room, his dark robes sweeping behind him.
“Good morning, everyone,” he began, his voice calm but carrying easily through the hall. “I am Professor Reinhardt, and this year, we will be exploring the history of the Commonwealth in a way that prepares you not just for the exams, but for your future roles—whether they be in governance, research, or diplomacy.”
He gestured to the chalkboard, where he had written a list of historical periods and the corresponding exam paper numbers.
“Our study will be structured around two key assessment types: Paper 1, which focuses on data response questions, and Paper 2, an essay-based paper that requires deeper analysis and structured argumentation. Today, we begin with the early formation of the Commonwealth and its impact on modern magical governance.”
Robert adjusted his posture, his quill poised above the parchment. The professor’s approach was methodical—focused on preparing them for the exams rather than just lecturing on historical facts.
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“For Paper 1, our first data response question will be based on the period surrounding the Treaty of Varsovia,” Professor Reinhardt continued, gesturing to the year 1203 on the chalkboard. “This document is not only foundational for our Commonwealth but also a prime example of how magical constructs can be integrated into legal and political frameworks. You’ll need to identify the main features of the Treaty and explain its significance in maintaining stability.”
He paused, glancing around the room to ensure everyone was following. “The key to succeeding in a data response question is to remain precise. Answer exactly what is asked—no more, no less. For this question, you will need to focus on three main points: the role of each House in the Treaty’s formation, the magical enforcement mechanisms embedded within, and the political balance it created.”
Robert made a note of the professor’s emphasis on precision. It was a marked difference from the broad overviews he had experienced before. Professor Reinhardt’s instructions were specific, almost formulaic—exactly the kind of structure that would resonate with someone like Robert, who appreciated clarity and order.
“Now, for Paper 2, which will require essay-style responses,” Reinhardt continued. “Our first essay question will be: ‘To what extent did the Treaty of Varsovia shape the Commonwealth’s political and magical structures in the following centuries?’ This is a broad question that demands a well-organized argument. Your answer should be divided into three parts: an introduction that outlines your thesis, a body where you present three to four supporting arguments, and a conclusion that ties everything together.”
He moved to the chalkboard, sketching out a basic essay outline. “For the introduction, state your argument clearly. Don’t waste time with unnecessary details—get straight to the point. For the body, choose your evidence carefully. Each point you make should be supported by historical examples and, where applicable, references to magical theory.”
Robert’s quill scratched across the page as he diligently copied down the outline. The professor’s breakdown of essay structure was straightforward but effective. Robert could already see how he would apply these techniques to his own work—organizing his arguments with the same precision he used when constructing a spell.
“As we discuss the formation of the Commonwealth,” Professor Reinhardt said, his tone shifting slightly, “I want you to consider not just the historical events themselves, but the underlying magical principles that influenced them. The Treaty of Varsovia was not merely a political document—it was a magical binding, sealed by the signatures and spells of the founding Archmages.”
He gestured to a section of the chalkboard where he had drawn a complex diagram representing the Treaty’s magical enforcement mechanism. “This binding spell ensured that no House could act in direct violation of the Treaty without facing immediate consequences. It was a dynamic enchantment, capable of recalibrating the influence of each House based on their contributions and conduct. This adaptability is what allowed the Commonwealth to survive political upheaval and external threats for centuries.”
Robert’s quill moved swiftly as he recorded every detail. The professor’s focus on the magical mechanics of the Treaty was fascinating, a perspective that brought together history and magic in a way that Robert had rarely encountered.
“For your Paper 1 response, you’ll need to identify the key features of this magical enforcement and explain how they contributed to the stability of the Commonwealth,” Reinhardt said. “Remember, focus on the specifics. When addressing the role of each House, highlight their contributions and how these were reflected in the Treaty’s magical framework.”
He paused, letting the information sink in before continuing. “As for your Paper 2 essay, consider how the Treaty’s adaptability influenced later developments in magical governance. Your argument should explore how the spell work within the Treaty set a precedent for other legal and magical constructs.”
The professor’s voice took on a contemplative tone as he spoke. “The Treaty of Varsovia is not just a historical document—it is a living spell, constantly evolving with the political landscape. As you progress in this course, I want you to keep this in mind: history is not static. It is alive, shaped by the decisions we make and the magic we wield.”
The lecture continued in this vein, with Professor Reinhardt dissecting the political and magical intricacies of the Commonwealth’s formation. He wove together historical events, magical theory, and exam-focused strategies, creating a lesson that was both intellectually challenging and practically useful.
By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, Robert felt both exhilarated and slightly overwhelmed. He had filled several pages with notes, each one sparking new thoughts and questions. This was a class that demanded not only knowledge but also critical thinking and analysis—qualities that Robert knew he would need to refine if he was to navigate the intricate world of Commonwealth politics.
As the students began to file out of the lecture hall, Professor Reinhardt called out, “Remember, history is not just a record of the past—it is the foundation upon which the future is built. To understand where we are going, we must first understand where we have been.”
Robert nodded slightly to himself as he gathered his belongings. The professor’s words resonated deeply. He had come to the University to grow stronger, to master his magic and prove his worth. But strength alone would not be enough. To truly lead House Rest, to secure its future in a world of shifting alliances and rivalries, he would need to understand the game that was being played—both on the battlefield and in the halls of power.