Osric jumped. He turned towards the voice. An unfamiliar girl with short red hair looked back at him.
“Excuse me?” he said.
“The out of bounds area, I mean. It’s where the gods sleep,” the girl said, “at least, that’s what I reckon. My mam said that the royal gods used to live near here before they became the Empire’s gods. So, I was thinking… what if that’s where they sleep?”
Osric considered the girl’s words. His initial surprise at her intrusion had been usurped by curiosity. Before he could answer, his plate was snatched up by one of the kitchen staff and replaced with a bowl of treacle tart. A sweet aroma wafted through the Great Hall and the clattering of spoons soon followed. Osric turned back to face the girl, both their bowls untouched.
He offered his hand to the girl. “Osric Finch, pleasure to meet you. And your name…?”
“Mary O’Connell,” she replied, grinning as she shook his hand. “So, what do you think?”
“I think it’s a very interesting theory, Miss O’Connell,” Osric said, smiling through Avery’s disapproving look, “one worth testing, I dare say.”
Mary giggled, picking up her spoon, “I’m sure the gods will be delighted to be woken up in the pursuit of knowledge.”
Osric wagged his spoon at her. “Fleeing from the wrath of a rudely awoken god? That’s just part of life as a mage of this great empire, I suspect.”
They continued joking about what might occur should Mary’s theory be correct. Avery seemed appalled at first, though his scowl faded once Edgar and Nellie joined in.
Bang! Bang! The sound of the gavel echoed through the room.
“Potentia per sacrificium!” rang out in reply. Osric was caught off-guard, his chant lagging a little behind.
Headmaster Holloway stood up. “Thus, the first day of the year draws almost to a close,” he said, his booming voice a little hoarser than before. “I hope you have found it as illuminating and enriching as I have. May I remind you all that while you may use your free time as you wish, once the bell rings at 10pm you are to be inside your dormitories with the lights out.”
Osric noticed Mrs Hawthorne giving the students a particularly stern glare. Holloway signalled to the other teachers, and they rose in unison, forming a procession as they made their way to the exit. The Headmaster followed them out.
“Are we… allowed to leave?” Avery asked, his question almost immediately answered by the departure of a number of older students.
The number of steps to the top of the first-years’ tower seemed to have doubled since Osric had last scaled them. His legs burned when he finally reached the summit. He settled into one of the sofas near the fireplace, closing his eyes for a moment as a wave of exhaustion overtook him.
Nellie chuckled, sitting down beside him. “That’s what you get for overdoing it in Professor Edwards’ lesson.” Osric groaned in response.
The common room filled up with the sounds of chatter. Osric’s lethargy gradually cleared despite the warmth of the fire almost lulling him to sleep.
Edgar squeezed himself onto the sofa, pushing Osric’s legs aside. He looked over at Mary, who was warming herself by the fireplace. “So,” he said, “which god did you choose?”
“Locurith,” she replied, “although I had to insist; Holloway wanted me to choose Vafram, saying it would work better with my feramancy. Apparently wanting to be able to run faster wasn’t a ‘sufficiently compelling reason’ to pick otherwise.”
Edgar smirked. “What’s your feramancy then?”
“Oh, uh…” Mary said, her eyes darting between the others sitting nearby “well, Mrs Waverly called it a ‘persuasion spell’, but really it’s more of a nudge. I can’t make anyone do what they really don’t want to.”
“Brilliant!” Edgar exclaimed, his eyes wide, “and I thought copying stuff was impressive…”
They continued to ask questions, Osric and Edgar inventing increasingly absurd pranks to pull on Pendlebury with Mary’s help. The time passed quickly and before long they had to return to their dorms, the threat of Mrs Hawthorne’s wrath more fearsome than Osric cared to admit.
Once inside the dormitory, Osric changed into his nightclothes, breathing a sigh of relief as he cast aside his tie. Taking care to lay out his uniform as his mother had done a few days prior, he said goodnight to Edgar and Avery and closed his eyes.
Osric awoke to the sound of a bell. His body seemed somehow even more sore than the night before, and it took Edgar shaking him to finally get him out of bed. The boys headed downstairs for breakfast with barely a word spoken until after they had finished eating.
“History of Magic, is it?” Edgar asked, his voice groggy. Osric nodded in response.
“Let’s hope it’s more ‘Magic’ than ‘History’,” Edgar said, rubbing his eyes.
They trudged across the castle towards their first lesson of the day. The classroom was located on the south-western side of the grounds, at the top of Holywell Tower. Mary and Nellie waved the boys over.
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“What took you so long?” Nellie asked, “We waited outside your dorm for ages!”
The boys mumbled their excuses, Osric rightfully taking the blame for their delayed departure. The desks had largely been filled now, but no teacher had yet to appear. The room they were in was expansive, even by Ravenhurst standards, and decorated with statues and paintings of people unfamiliar to Osric. Covering almost every inch of the circular wall was a tall, varnished oak bookshelf packed with various tomes and manuscripts. Their spines were illuminated by rays of sunshine pouring in through high fanlight windows.
A man rushed in through the door carrying an armful of books and a handful of loose parchment. He wore a dark tailcoat over a lighter, patterned waistcoat with a thin silver chain looping from one button into a pocket on his left side. Panting heavily, he circumvented the children’s desks and dropped what he was carrying on a heavy wooden desk at the front of the room. A pair of round-framed spectacles lay hanging around his neck and he dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief from his breast pocket.
“Apologies, first-years,” he said, still regaining his breath, “it’s my first lesson of the year and I’m not used to the new room. There I was, standing alone in a classroom on the opposite side of the castle. I thought for a moment you had all just decided to sleep in!” He chuckled awkwardly, pocketing his handkerchief and propping his glasses onto the bridge of his nose.
“Right, shall we begin? I’ve only got enough books for one between two, I’m afraid.” He passed the books around, students pushing their desks together into pairs and threes.
“Welcome. I’m Professor Sinclair and I will be teaching you History of Magic. A subject that, I’m told, does not elicit the same natural enthusiasm found in students of Spellcasting or Potions.”
He paused, waiting for a few simmering chuckles from around the room to die down.
“Nevertheless, you will discover during this course that knowledge can be an even greater source of power than magic. There is no better way to prepare for the challenges of the future than by understanding all those that have come before.”
Osric peered down at the hefty book lying unopened on his desk. It was in pristine condition with gold lettering adorning the front cover.
Magic Through the Ages: A Guide for Young Minds.
“Now, in preparation for your Introduction to Divine Communication lessons, let’s start with a brief history of our Empire’s gods. Turn to page 62, and could I please have a volunteer to read?”
Students took it in turns to read passages, interrupted only by the occasional footnote from Professor Sinclair. Osric soon grew impatient, and he wished he had a book to himself so he would be able to read ahead.
The book described the royal gods as generous benefactors who had decided to support the Empire for the sake of human progress. Their altruistic intervention began in 1805, where they had fought alongside Lord Horatio Nelson at the Battle of Trafalgar. The outnumbered Royal Navy emerged victorious, destroying twenty enemy ships and losing none.
It continued in much the same fashion, listing their various military and economic contributions to the success of the Empire culminating in the ascendance to their current status as gods of the royal family following the end of the Napoleonic Wars in 1815.
Osric scribbled down some notes, his penmanship still in a dire state despite Nellie’s help the day before. He felt a certain satisfaction in finally getting some answers, but the book seemed to raise just as many questions about the royal gods as it answered. He put his hand up at the end of a chapter.
“Yes?” Professor Sinclair said, glancing over the rims of his spectacles.
“Professor, why did the royal gods decide to help in 1805? What were they doing before then?” Osric asked. The professor smiled faintly, pushing his glasses further up before answering.
“They were much like any other god. It is thought that they saw the potential of the Empire to spread prosperity and civilisation throughout the world, and so they came to our aid.”
Osric started to ask another question, but the professor interrupted him.
“If it doesn’t pertain to the content of the text, I’m afraid I must insist we continue. If you still have questions you may ask them at the end of the lesson.”
Osric did just that, approaching Professor Sinclair at the front while the other first-years packed away their things. The professor looked up from his parchment as Osric approached.
“Ah, Master…” Professor Sinclair said.
“Finch, sir.”
“Master Finch, what is it you wish to ask?”
“Well sir… Why isn’t there anything in the book about the royal gods before 1805? Why did they decide to help then, and not earlier or later? And what is their connection to Ravenhurst?” Osric asked, relishing the opportunity to ask his questions to someone who might know the answers.
“I admire your curiosity, Master Finch. It will make you a fine historian, and a fine mage. I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to be much help here—and not just because I have another lesson to get to. These sorts of questions are beyond the scope of our curriculum, and I’ve been told to stick strictly to the curriculum following last year’s…” Professor Sinclair’s voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat before continuing.
“...well, following last year. I dare say you’re not the first to ask such questions.” he stood up from the desk, gathering the last of the books in his arms. He paused, a thoughtful look on his face.
“Having said that, did you know there are a total of thirteen libraries here at Ravenhurst? I have no doubt that one of them will have the answers you seek.” He looked at Osric intently, letting his words hang in the air for a moment before excusing himself and walking towards the staircase.
Osric stood still for a moment, confusion crossing his face. He had waited all lesson for the chance to ask the professor his questions, and that was all he got?
Mary called him over, snapping him out of his thoughts. The five of them left Holywell Tower, Osric recounting the bizarre conversation he had just had.
“‘Following last year’?” Nellie asked, “What happened last year?”
“I don’t know,” Osric replied, “all he said was that I wasn’t the first to ask those questions. I think maybe he got into trouble for it, but he wouldn’t say why.”
They wandered along a gravel path just outside the castle. The wind was calmer than it had been the day before, and a sharp morning sun staved off the worst of the cold. Their next lesson wasn’t for another hour, so Osric had persuaded them to venture out to the forest which bordered the academy.
“What else did he say?” Nellie asked, hugging her chest as she walked.
“Not much, just that I should look for answers in the libraries here—apparently we have thirteen?” Osric replied.
“Would’ve been nice for him to tell you which one!” Edgar scoffed.
Osric came to the end of the path, gnarled oak trees marking the edge of the forest. He pushed on, breathing in the damp woodland air as the trees blotted out the sun above. He heard the caw of birds, and wondered to himself whether they minded his intrusion. The forest reminded him of home, far away from the rules and mysteries of the academy.
“That’s odd,” Nellie said, peering down at her map. The others turned towards her. “Yes, it’s as I thought—there are only twelve libraries in Ravenhurst.”