“Well,” professor Alydia began. “First, I should congratulate everyone for passing. In my Monday class, I had to fail a group who were panicked by the first group of bugs they came across. I’ll begin with our second years, though.”

She turned to the group and shook her head.

“You collected only seven books. You are all capable of casting at least one fourth circle spell, and reliably casting third circle and below. You have taken battle magic courses. Yet you preformed barely above the threshold to pass. Why?”

“We were restricted,” the man who had the void that pulled everything in said. “We’re all battlemages. But the library doesn’t like its books being damaged We were limited to using our defensive magic to protect ourselves and use highly targeted spells like arcane missile.”

“And this perfectly illustrates why this course is different from battle magic courses,” professor Alydia said. “You learned a half dozen ways to burn, freeze, and shock your enemies, as well as a myriad of defenses. But there are times in life where simply throwing our your most powerful spells or leaning on a potent affinity is not enough.”

“Professor, with all due respect… Outside of the library, when is that true? It’s not like demons care.”

“Off the top of my head? Perhaps the demons have kidnapped a group of hostages or wounded allies, and you cannot simply blast them all. Perhaps you have been forced to shelter in a narrow ravine or cave where lighting the scrub around you would mean your death. Perha–”

“I get it,” the man sulked.

“Good. Next is Wesley. You chose to go in alone, which allowed you to collect all your books, as well as a few extras, and leave quite quickly. In this instance, you did quite well, but going alone also has disadvantages, no?”

“As I had nobody to watch my back, I was almost caught in an ambush,” Wesley stated calmly. “But I noticed it fast enough to get a shield up against the animated knife. I maintain it was the correct choice.”

“I see,” professor Alydia said. “And that brings us to our next and final team. You may have missed two, or your trade may come through and round it out to a perfect score. Time will tell. As individuals, I’ll begin with the best member of the group: Jackson. Despite not being able to use your affinity or fire magic, you were quick to act with solutions against the shadows, were readying your own solutions to every trap in case your group had no counter, and were prepared to heal Emrys after the trap struck him with remarkable alacrity.”

I raised an eyebrow. I hadn’t realized that, but before I could inquire more, the professor turned to Salem.

“You used your psychic senses well, and successfully stopped a dangerous attack. When delving for first circle spell guides, psychic rats are among the most dangerous possible encounters, as their stealth and psychic powers can easily stun someone, leaving them vulnerable. Well done, but I warn you to not over-rely on those powers. If the library sent an animated construct at you, like the paperswarms or flying daggers, you would not sense them.”

She turned to me.

“You did very well, tied for second. Your trick with the lifeberry spell in particular was excellent. I must warn you against leaping in front of teammates to take blows, however. If your defenses run dry, the habit can kill you.”

I nodded my agreement, relieved to have done well.

“And lastly… Yushin. You relied on your spell to sense toxins. It did help your team, quite a bit, but as a shelf comber, you failed to look for any magical traps. A simple ethersight spell upon seeing the volume would have avoided straining your teammate. You performed well, but worst of your group.”

Yushin pressed her lips together, then bowed.

“I see.”

Professor Alydia clapped.

“Next week, we will be pitting your teams against a haunted house, possessed by either a poltergeist, infested with a group of ghouls, or the remains of a necromancer’s attempts. Be prepared.”

Then she muttered a few words and vanished.

“Here,” Yushin said, thrusting the compendium of force spells at Salem. She then pushed three spell guides to me, and four to Jackson – the arcane armor, missile, and shield spells, plus flamethrower. “I will wait for the trade, or go without.”

“Nah,” Jackson said, pushing two of his to her. “I already have flamethrower. It and arcane armor are good for me. I’ll wait.”

Yushin blushed, opened her mouth, closed it again, and nodded.

“Thank you.”

I spent much of the rest of the day, as well as the entirety of Thursday, cramming in every bit of practice I could. I trained with Xander’s massage until I could reliably light two of the leaves, I read from my grimoire to work on developing my understanding of misfortune, and I focused on learning the shrinking spell I’d need in order to get into the pixie castle’s ballroom for Conjuration One.

The shrink or grow spell had been on my list of ‘things to do’, but that list had gotten significantly more complicated when Gerhard had come calling, leaving me a bit hung out to dry. I didn’t want to rely on that one cabinet again, so cramming would have to do, especially since I needed to return the book before midnight on Thursday.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I – just barely – managed it, shoving the book back on the shelf at eleven forty-nine at night, having managed to cast and transcribe it into my book, then turned to practicing casting it, since having it transcribed was far from being the same as being able to reliably cast the spell without a reference. When I was low on ether, I read about my affinity, then practiced the massage.

When I finally turned in at four in the morning, I promised myself I wouldn’t pull all nighters to cram spellwork in again… but I had an idea I wouldn’t be able to keep that promise.

Getting up at sunrise to continue the ritual spell was annoying, but with my fire able to rest in the embers, rather than needing to be forcibly disjointed, at least I was able to keep myself awake, and as I went to get the flavorless porridge the school served each morning, I had a pleasant surprise.

In addition to the porridge, which had been dosed with a little bit of cinnamon and sugar, there was a cup of black coffee and two boiled eggs sitting next to it. I stared at it dumbly for a moment, unsure what to make of it, before it clicked.

I’d started to get grades, and I’d done well in professor Alydia’s assessment of our performances when delving the library. Under my scholarship, I was given adaptive conditions, including food.

I devoured the eggs and spiced porridge happily, then drained the coffee. It didn’t have much effect – even in my human form, most poisons weren’t as potent for me as they were for others, which included things like coffee and alcohol – but the warm liquid at least woke me up a little bit.

My first class in the morning was with professor Caeruleum, and they gave me a look as I entered. I couldn’t decipher it, so I just let it go for now. The classroom had been changed – though there was still a board for them to write on, there were no more seats, just a spot for people to put their bags. I didn’t have any, just the pouches I wore under the school uniform, so I instead strolled out to the mats where we had practiced the umbrella cantrip.

Each of the mats had a floating glass machine hovering near the edge, and I gave it a curious look.

“What’s this?” I asked. The glass turned red.

“You shall see,” the professor said with a slight smile.

Once everyone was there, professor Caeruleum clapped to draw attention.

“Welcome, class. Over the next two weeks, we will be covering three basic, but endlessly useful abjuration spells, for both combat and noncombat uses: hidden conversation, peacecharm, and allies’ sigil.”

They gestured to the glass machines.

“You have no doubt wondered what these are. They are unique bits of artifice, meant to respond when they hear Ceyish, turning red. They can also release a weak stunning spell when turned upside down, and glow green when an etheric sigil is placed upon them. They will be excellent training tools for these three spells.”

They gestured to the board, where a spell began to draw itself out.

“Hidden conversation,” professor Caeruleum said by way of explanation. “Quite a useful spell. It creates an intangible barrier around you and up to five others that muffles and distorts sound to anyone not within your spell. If I were to cast it on myself, my lecture would sound like an utterly mundane, slightly quiet, conversation. Perhaps about how a bakery had switched the brand of flour.”

Another spell began to draw itself out on the board.

“Peacecharm… Perhaps the most useful spell you’ll ever learn, at least in my opinion. So long as your intentions remain peaceful, this will act as a powerful ward against nearly any kind of attack directly targeting you. It won’t prevent accidents or being caught up incidentally, nor will it protect you more than once per casting. But for anyone simply wishing to live a peaceful life, it is powerful indeed.”

A third spell drew itself out on the board.

“Allies’ sigil. When you cast this spell, you magically place a mark upon yourself and up to three others, shielding you from the damage of one another’s spellcraft until the mark fades. It’s not perfect – it won’t stop intentionally aiming to strike an ally – but it will prevent you from roasting an ally with your own fireball or lightning bolt. Alas, it lasts only for a minute before it needs more ether. Still, very useful.”

They then began to slowly demonstrate the motions and words of power for the spell, going through each one five times, before they began walking around the room, occasionally demonstrating again for those who needed it.

I looked at the spells, considering which to do first.

It wasn’t much of a choice. Allies’ sigil could protect from getting caught in a fireball, and Jackson was a fire mage. Its short duration was a problem, but most fights weren’t incredibly long. A five minute fight could easily strain someone to their limits.

I started practicing the spell, and was surprised with how easily it came to me. Learning a spell after seeing it cast a few times was possible, but I was no prodigy, and yet, it only took me a few dozen attempts before the spell array formed, and my orb started to glow.

It was sloppy, wasteful, and the rune shed so much light as to almost be blinding, but it had worked. It was almost like the spell had wanted to be completed.

I focused on that as I worked to refine my casting of the spell and felt… Something. It tickled at my ether pool, and when the professor came by to check on me, I asked a question.

“Professor, I hope this isn’t impolite, but… What’s your affinity?”

“It can be considered rude in some places,” professor Caeruleum said, a small smile on their face. “But I happen to have an abjuration affinity. Rare, but not unheard of.”

“I don’t suppose you’re using it to enhance our spells, are you?” I asked. The professor gave me a sly wink.

“You would be surprised what a bit of confidence does,” they said. “By ensuring everyone’s cast each spell at least a few times, their practice at home will improve dramatically. You must have an especially astute sense for ether shaping.”

“I’ve practiced disjointing, compressing, and shaping my bloodline a lot,” I said. “Much of the skills carry over.”

“I do hope you’re not compressing your ether pool?” Caeruleum asked with a note of concern.

“No,” I said. “Never had a reason to hide it, so I didn’t try. Professor Silverbark chewed me out for even asking.”

“Good, good,” they said, then raised an eyebrow. “You’re speaking more openly about your blood.”

“Did you not hear what happened?” I asked. They shook their head, and I grimaced, filling them in. A considering look came across their face.

“I see,” they said, then smiled.

I frowned. I’d expected… I wasn’t sure. They were very amenable, but this was an odd reaction.

“Towards the latter half of second semester, you will learn a neat little bit of magic called spellglyph,” they said. “A lower circle, more limited version of the contingency spell. I think it would behoove you to find a copy of it early, and then visit the empty spire reserved for Holmgang challenges.”

“I… okay?” I said, confused.

“Though if anyone asks, don’t tell them I said that. But you really ought to do it. Oh, and… While you might not be under placebo when you leave the class, my spell is helping you learn and improve. I want to see just how much power you can draw out from me to improve yourself.”

I nodded and focused on the sensation of their magic, pulling into my own as I worked to refine my casting.