Jackson laughed uncontrollably for a minute or two once he landed, unable to contain the overwhelming joy overflowing inside him. He was starting to get weird looks from other mages in the class, but he didn’t care—he barely even noticed. He could fly. Sure, it wasn’t as flashy as Miss Aster’s space manipulation or as versatile as Louise Railora’s constructs, but it was magic—his own magic—and nothing could take that away from him. Eventually, he settled down, practically collapsing as he sat on the cobbled floor of the Ego classroom. Magic, it appeared, was more taxing to cast than he initially thought. Those few short seconds of flight had drained a significant portion of Jackson’s energy, which, given his less-than-stellar quality of sleep over the past few days, wasn’t all too high to begin with.
“I can fly,” he muttered to himself again, sounding like a record stuck on repeat.
“That you can,” he heard Louise say from next to him with a small, amused smile on her face. “That you can. I’ve never seen a mage so joyous over simply using their magic before. To be frank, it’s a little odd.”
“Ah, well, I guess you wouldn’t really understand. Remember how I said I awakened a few days ago? Well, this was my first time actually using magic.”
“That makes decent enough sense, I suppose. Even still, it’s a bit weird. I don’t remember the first time I created a construct, but I’m confident my reaction was more... subdued.”
Jackson looked Louise in the eye, and she noticed something behind his gaze. It was like a dam holding back oceans of wonder had burst wide open, leaving an endless sea of hunger present inside his soul. “How,” he responded, talking in the most serious tone he’d ever taken, “it’s magic. How can you not be ecstatic whenever you cast it?”
Louise stared back at him, unsure how to even respond. To her, magic was second nature. Creating a construct felt as normal as walking and breathing, so when it came to Jackson’s pure ebullience, she just couldn’t wrap her head around it. She wasn’t the only one either—many other students looked at him the same way.
A few other students stepped up to demonstrate their unique magic, but Jackson was too distracted by the adrenaline still coursing through him to really pay attention. After the final student had gone, Miss Aster sent everyone back to their seats. On his way back up, a few people seemed to actively avoid Jackson, causing him to think his outburst earlier may not have made the greatest first impression. By the time everyone had returned to their seats, the class was practically over, so Miss Aster decided to dismiss everyone early, calling it her “welcome gift to Optima.” Students began to flood out of the classroom into the magnificent hallways of the main keep, Jackson among them.
“Hey, bird boy!” a voice yelled from behind. Jackson turned around to see a tall man approaching him. His cloak seemed to be a baggier fit, like it was a few sizes too large for the person wearing it. He had a choppy, layered shag of hair that tumbled down to his shoulders in waves, its dull red hue accented with black streaks catching the hallway’s natural light, making it appear matte and full. Pushing past the students in his way, he strode toward Jackson with a troublesome, toothy smile plastered on his face.
“Man, I’ve seen a lot of people use magic, but I’ve never seen someone act like that afterward.” He bent his knees and placed his hands on them, seeming to catch his breath before straightening himself out and placing a fist out in front of him. “Name’s Ellion, but just El’s fine.”
After a moment or two of stillness, the boy moved his fist, signalling Jackson to tap it with his own, which he obliged, slightly confused.
“So,” he continued, “what’s the deal with that?”
“What?”
“Like, the laughing.”
“Ah, that. Why’s that the only thing anyone’s talked to me about?”
“Well, we just never see people act like that, ya know? It’s interesting.”
“By ‘interesting,’ do you mean off-putting?”
“Eh, maybe for some people, but I wouldn’t worry about them. Go on, I’m waiting.”
Jackson began recounting the events that led up to his first flight—how he’d recently awakened and had never cast magic before. As he did so, he and Ellion made their way toward the dining hall. Jackson couldn’t really get a read on Ellion. He seemed so unlike the other mage students he’d met, being more akin to Miss Aster, if anyone at all. It was like he was constantly operating at maximum energy, being the most energetic version of himself at any given moment.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
After the pair grabbed their food, they took a seat at one of the empty tables in the dining hall and began to eat, chatting as they went. Jackson hadn’t really had the opportunity to look around the dining hall before, on account of his awakening on day one and his meeting with the Board of Appraisal on day two, with the only thing he really took in being the mural painted on the ceiling. It was larger than he remembered, but that made sense given how many students the academy admitted, with a significant chunk of those boarding at the school. The hall itself felt more like a fancy restaurant crossed with a communal lounge—not that Jackson had ever been in either of those—with tables and chairs scattered around, mixed in with benches, sofas, and more elaborate furniture dotted around for good measure.
“So,” Jackson began, directing his attention toward Ellion, who was seated across from him, “what’s your magic?”
“I showed it off earlier in the lesson. Don’t tell me you forgot—it’d hurt my feelings,” Ellion proclaimed with a faux pout.
“To be honest, anything after my flight is kinda a blur.”
“Fine, fine. I can create illusions. It’s nothing super powerful, but I even managed to trick Miss Abhar once. I made a fake door to her classroom. She spent, like, half an hour trying to open it. To be honest, she always looks half asleep anyway, so that might have contributed to my plan working, but still.”
The description Ellion gave rang a bell in Jackson’s mind. “Miss Abhar? Is she on the Board of Appraisal? I think someone called her Rialu.”
“Yep, that’s her. She’s actually got a decent sense of humour. Most of the other teachers would have given me a punishment, but she just let me off with a warning.”
“Are you sure she wasn’t just too tired to deal with you?”
“Heavens no,” Ellion proclaimed with mock horror. “How could you say such a thing, Jack-Attack?”
“Please... never call me that again.”
“You’re no fun.”
As the two continued their playful bickering, Jackson spotted Elquire entering from swordsmanship training, catching his eye and motioning for him to come join him at the table. Elquire glided over to the table, a small smile present on his lips.
“Mr. Jackson, I had begun to wonder where you had gone. Is that a mage’s uniform?”
“Ah, yeah,” Jackson replied. “I awakened as a mage that day in the dining hall. The Board of Appraisal confirmed it yesterday after training.”
“I see. That explains your absence from this morning’s class.” A sullen look began to form on Elquire’s face, but he tried to hide it as best he could. “I presume we will no longer be seeing one another then.”
“What? Why would you say that?”
“Well, you are a mage. You won’t be attending swordsmanship classes. Ergo, we will stop seeing one another.”
“I’m still going to the swordsman classes. I’m just doing mage classes alongside them.” Jackson looked at Elquire with pity. “Hey, even if I stopped swordsman classes, we’d still be friends. You’re the first person here who actually bothered to talk to me. I wouldn’t just ditch you because I became a mage.”
Relief washed over Elquire’s face, his shoulders slouching to a more relaxed posture. “You have my gratitude, Mr. Jackson.”
“Please, just Jackson’s fine.”
Elquire took a seat beside Jackson, Ellion immediately picking up on his more formal nature and subtly messing with him. The three sat and talked throughout most of the break, exchanging banter and stories of their school lives so far before the bell rang, marking the start of the next class. Jackson waved goodbye to Ellion and went with Elquire to the swordsmanship building, taking his usual seat near the back of the classroom.
Mr. Landy entered the class perfectly on time before moving to his podium as usual. Before he began, he gazed up toward Jackson, who had forgotten to change into his swordsmanship outfit and was still in his mage’s cloak.
“Mr. Jackson,” he began, “you may wish to check your uniform before our next class. Using a sword in a mage’s robes is not as easy as you may think.”
Jackson looked down slightly sheepishly, sliding back in his chair a bit to minimize his visibility.
“Anyway,” Mr. Landy continued, now addressing the entire class, “today we will cover the ‘longpoint’ stance. You know the drill by now—pair up and head to the training grounds.”
Everyone headed off as per Landy’s instructions, arriving after a short walk. Before Jackson could even ask, Elquire offered to help him with the stance, given his complete lack of knowledge, which he accepted a little self-consciously. Elquire placed his feet shoulder-width apart before stepping back on his right foot, angling it away from his body. He squared his shoulders and gripped the longsword firmly with one hand near the pommel and the other near the guard. His arms were extended with a slight bend at the elbow, angling the sword forward and upward at a 45-degree angle.
“Use the longpoint for defence primarily. While it can be utilized offensively, its primary strength lies in its ability to deflect oncoming attacks, much like Mr. Landy had done to me on our second day. As of right now, do not stay in this stance for too long since your arms cannot take the weight for extended periods of time.”
Slightly stung, Jackson acknowledged the advice and managed to get an okay stance committed to memory by the time the class ended, signalling it was time to go home. Jackson said his goodbyes before heading on his way with a skip in his step. He flung open the door to see his father sitting at the dinner table.
“Ah, welcome home, lad,” Ulric began before shifting in his seat to see Jackson. “Dinner’s almost—” Ulric stopped talking, his eyes looking down and up at Jackson’s robes. “What are you wearing?”
“This is what I wanted to tell you, Dad. I’m a mage! I awakened the other day. I wasn’t sure at first, but the Board of Appraisal is letting me attend mage classes and—”
“Jackson,” Ulric interrupted in a firm voice, “we need to have a talk.”