The four of them made their way towards their final lesson of the day. They followed Osric’s lead, his wayfinding abilities under constant scrutiny from Nellie. Corridors led to halls led to corridors, they eventually passed through Nelson Tower and wandered across a neatly trimmed lawn towards a growing crowd of students.

“Here,” Osric said, “this must be it.”

“You are not serious, I trust?” Avery said, “Surely it’s too cold for a lesson outside.”

“I find it quite pleasant,” Nellie countered, “better than sitting in that dingy classroom listening to Professor Deighton drone on about the correct way to sneeze in the company of a god.” Edgar and Osric giggled, Avery instead scowling as he hugged his chest.

They reached the crowd, a smiling woman with bright blue eyes watching as the last of the new arrivals gathered round. She had long, frizzy brown hair and wore a slim, modest day dress. Osric noticed her counting, nodding to herself as she looked at each student in turn.

Seemingly satisfied, she raised both hands above her head and two streams of fire flowed from her palms, soaring into the air above her as they twisted around each other. The first-years stared at the roaring flames, even Avery’s scowl was replaced by a look of awe. Even at Samhain bonfires, Osric had never witnessed such a display; she had produced in seconds what it took the Brynwodeans days to prepare.

The woman closed her fists, the plumes of fire disappearing as quickly as they had appeared.

“And with that, I welcome you to our first Introduction to Spellcasting lesson. I am Professor Edwards, and I shall be your guide as we journey through the world of spellcasting. Since none of you have yet been gifted your first deimancy spell, this lesson will be focusing solely on feramancy.”

Avery sighed, his scowl returning. In front of them, Professor Edwards paced up and down the grass, gesturing enthusiastically.

“Many of you will have already cast your first feramancy spell, and you may even believe that you have mastered it. I can safely assure you—you have not. With dedication and practise, most spells can be elevated to become almost unrecognisable from their original form.” She clapped her hands together and fixed the class with a wide-eyed stare.

“Let’s have a volunteer. Anyone?” she asked, Osric doing his best to avoid eye contact. “Yes, you, very good,” she said, pointing towards a boy near the front. He sauntered up to her, smirking at the other students as he did so. She exchanged a few hushed words with him, then turned back towards the others.

“Master Pendlebury here possesses a kinetic spell. He will attempt to demonstrate it to you all now.” She nodded at him. The boy took out his map from his pocket and rested it gently on the grass. He retreated a couple of steps then shook out his hands. Reaching towards the map, he curled his fingers slightly towards the sky and clenched his jaw. A moment later, one side of the map began to lift, as if caught on a breeze. Gradually, the rest of the map followed, one corner still doggedly clinging on to the ground. With a grunt of exertion from Pendlebury, the map flipped over, collapsing onto the ground as he withdrew his hands. A smattering of applause broke out, mostly from near where he had been standing.

“Show off,” muttered Avery under his breath.

“Very good, Master Pendlebury!” Professor Edwards said, her hands clasped together in front of her. Pendlebury gave her a muted smile.

“What I would have you do next is to focus on a clear and progressive intention. Hold that intention in your mind. Repeat it a few times if you need. Think about the next step along your spell’s journey. The map should lift off the ground in its entirety, should it not?”

Pendlebury nodded. He took a deep breath, glaring at the map as if it had wronged him. He reached out his hands again, closing his eyes for a moment before exhaling. The map lifted upwards, this time more confidently. The reluctant corner clung on for a time, but it was no match for its adversary. It broke contact with the grass, floating upwards a few centimetres and then hovering. Pendlebury broke out into a beaming smile, admiring his own work. He turned to look at the class, the map almost immediately falling back down to the ground. Raucous applause rang out from the crowd. Shrugging performatively, he looked to the Professor.

“Beautifully done!” she announced, and Pendlebury nodded in appreciation. A couple of boys patted him on the shoulder as he rejoined the others. “Now, let’s all give that a try, shall we? Remember, focus on a clear and progressive intention—not what has been achieved before, but what we seek to achieve next.”

Avery and Osric exchanged fearful glances. Around them, first-years began to spread out, arms flung out at odd angles as they tried to imitate Pendlebury’s success. Edgar plucked a stick from the ground, snapping it in half in frustration after trying and failing to duplicate it. Nellie knelt on the ground, her palms planted in the grass, willing along some as of yet unseen effect. Professor Edwards orbited the group, darting in and out to offer encouragement or guidance.

Avery cupped his hands together, mumbling to himself. Moments later, tiny sparks of electricity jumped from his hands, letting off faint pops as they tumbled onto the ground. A smile replaced his scowl, and he turned to Osric with a jubilant look on his face.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Excellent work!” Professor Edwards said, quickly closing the distance between them before engaging him in further conversation.

Osric watched as the students around him displayed their skills. One boy held his hand up towards the sky, a miniature cloud dribbling rain in front of him. Another cradled a ball of light, barely larger than a marble, which glowed a brilliant white before sputtering out. Nellie lifted her hands off from the ground, blades of grass surging upwards in pursuit as they grew at thousands of times their natural pace.

Professor Edwards finished her conversation with Avery and began meandering over towards Osric. With the professor’s keen gaze settling on him at last, he wished for a fleeting moment that his feramancy was instead invisibility. He shook the thought off. The time for cowardice had long since passed. He might as well try—there is honour in effort, though reward may elude, as his father often said.

Osric reached his hands out in front of him. He had tried to cast a shield spell many times before, but despite his mother’s repeated demonstrations he had yet to succeed. Thus far, only adrenaline and survival instinct had proved sufficiently powerful motivators.

Clear and progressive intention.

Osric thought back to the thin, swirling membrane which had cushioned his fall those few months ago. It had lasted only a fraction of a second before shattering, his body falling through it with slightly less momentum than it would have otherwise. He envisaged a new shield in its place—larger and more robust than the first, the hypnotic plasma of the shield’s surface contorting instead of shattering as it absorbed his weight.

He held the image in his mind. That is the shield I want, he repeated to himself, closing his eyes as he did so. It felt slightly absurd, like wishing to run before one could walk, but he had seen the effect of the professor’s words on Pendlebury’s fledgling kinetic spell. Why shouldn’t they do the same for him?

He flexed his hands, drew a sharp breath, and—

He felt it.

All around him, the air began to crackle with energy. It pressed in on him, forcing its way through his skin and into his veins, his muscles twitching as it pulsed through his arms. He gritted his teeth, the pounding heartbeat in his head threatening to drown out the shield’s image.

No. Focus. I can do this.

He exhaled, fixing his thoughts on the shield he had pictured. A glimmering stream of light spilled out from his hands, pooling in front of him. It pressed outwards, waves of plasma crashing against its boundary as it stretched in one direction, then the next. Within seconds it was the size of his first shield, but he urged himself on, pleading with the dull, throbbing pain radiating throughout his body.

I can do this. I need to do this.

His palms stung with a searing pain, as if he had clasped both hands onto a pan of boiling water. The shield continued to grow, its twisting vortexes pushing ever further from their source. His legs trembled with exhaustion, his breaths short and shallow as he urged himself onwards.

Just a little more. Just a little more. Just a—

His legs buckled underneath him.

He collapsed onto his knees, the cool touch of the grass numbing the pain in his palms as he reached out to catch himself. Turning to face his creation, he shook his head to clear the blurriness that had crept into his vision. Before him, a shimmering wall of plasma stood proudly, almost twice the size of his first. He smiled through gritted teeth. He had done it.

“I say, how marvellous!” Professor Edwards exclaimed, helping Osric to his feet. “Though perhaps you overdid it a little…” Osric nodded in agreement, just now noticing the crowd that had gathered round to admire his efforts.

Nellie rushed up to him, looking him up and down as if she were a doctor.

“What have you gone and done that for?” she asked, “Boys, always trying to impress…” Beside her, Edgar rolled his eyes.

“Aether sickness,” the professor explained, “is most commonly experienced after repeated spellcasting. It can also manifest in the event of a spellcaster attempting to cast a spell more potent than that for which they were prepared. Still, achievement is the child of perseverance!” As she spoke, the surface of the shield settled, its whirlpools of plasma spinning themselves out.

Pendlebury scoffed, his gaze locked onto Osric as he turned to another first-year boy standing nearby.

“What good’s a shield spell that bowls over its caster?” he sneered, just loud enough for Osric to hear. Professor Edwards tutted loudly.

“Easy, Master Pendlebury, I won’t h-”

Osric’s shield shattered, a faint high-pitched sound ringing out as minuscule fragments of membrane cascaded downwards before dissolving into the air. The group soon dissolved with it, Pendlebury retreating into a group of boys some metres away. Professor Edwards marched after him.

“Ah yes,” Avery said, “because his map-flipping skills are in such high demand!” Edgar and Nellie burst out laughing, Osric too unnerved by Pendlebury’s piercing glare to offer more than a nervous chuckle. He wasn’t quite sure what he had done to offend Pendlebury, but something told him that Professor Edwards scolding him on Osric’s behalf wasn’t going to help the situation. The professor finished her conversation with Pendlebury and approached the four of them.

“My apologies, children. Now, where were we?” the professor said. “Master Finch, that was rather something wasn’t it? And to think—if Mrs Waverly’s to be trusted of course—there’s yet more on the way!” She beamed at them, then marched off towards another group of first-years.

“What did she mean, ‘more on the way’?” Nellie asked.

“Yeah, what’s Mrs Waverly been saying about you?” Edgar added.

Osric froze. This day just kept getting worse and worse. He took a deep breath.

“I have something to tell you,” he said.