No One Sees The Janitor

By

GhostImageArt.

Chapter One -

The advantages of being invisible.

The funny thing about being a servant to the powerful, Dave thought, was that they often wholly forgot you existed. He doubted he was the first to take advantage of that fact, but he at least thought his plan held a note of genius.

No one wanted to work at the college.

He idly swept up another pile of ash as he made his way around the tables. There was always ash, no matter the lesson. Learning to be a mage was a tricky business, after all. His mind was far from work as he listened intently to the slightly muffled and distorted voice drifting through the vent from the next-door lecture hall.

“...it is important to remember that the core utility of a mage, indeed their very source of power, must be channeled through an object. Without that object, which we call a focus, your abilities cannot cross into the physical world.”

The Dean droned on.

Introduction to the Magical Arts. Dave had heard it before. It was nothing you could not find in a book… if they let you read the books.

“You there, clear off. We need the room.” An imperious voice called.

A young student was in the doorway, covered in pimples and his voice breaking. A girl hovered behind him, tittering and pushing herself against the teen.

“Of course, young Master.” Dave bowed low and gathered his bucket and tools. A second later, he bowed again and left the two teens to it. He seethed inside. It happened every time. He needed to hear the end of that lecture. But some spotty oik threw him out for the third year in a row.

Dave broke into a run. He had prepared this year, and he would not be denied again. A few students in the hall laughed as he ran past, bucket clutched to his chest and broom under his arm. Some made comments about the strange behavior, but Dave knew they would forget about him soon. They all did.

He climbed the creaking and rickety ladder he had hidden in the Janitor’s Closet and pulled himself into the roof. Crawling through the dust and cobwebs was unpleasant, but it would be worth it.

If he made it in time…

“...which brings us onto the next final stage of our lecture for today.” The Dean prattled away. His voice was a constant monotone of total disinterest. “The binding of your magic to a focus.”

Dave grinned. He had made it. Pulling himself up to the vent and pressing his ear to the opening, he listened intently as the Dean continued.

“Before we begin, hold up your chosen focus for inspection.” Footsteps clicked around the room. A few muttered that’s good, and the occasional pause was the only sound. “Ah, no, I am afraid that will not do.” The Dean paused again, “That is one of the few things forbidden to become a focus.” The footsteps returned to the front of the class. “This is an important point of note, class. There are many things that can be a focus, but only a few that can not be. Does anyone know the list of forbidden focus objects?” Another pause, “Yes, you there.”

“There are five forbidden objects,” A reedy voice said. “The living, the dead, the was, the will-be, and the reflective.”

“Correct!” The dean sounded pleasantly surprised. “That means that no living creature can be a focus, nor can it be a part of a dead creature such as a skull. The same goes for wooden objects, as they were part of a tree, and for seeds or eggs, which will be something later on. Reflective items are also forbidden.”

“Why, sir?” Another voice asked.

“Well, a living creature would mutate or likely die for various reasons. A dead creature or part thereof might be raised to life, which is forbidden. Seeds or eggs would mutate into horrors or worse. Even dead wood could reanimate with a bit of bad luck and a powerful mage. It was what created the legendary Zombie Ent.”

A murmur ran through the class, and they talked about the disaster of the Eastern Empire until a gong sounded.

“Enough,” The Dean said hurriedly. “We must get back to the topic at hand. To bind a focus to you-”

“Sir, what is wrong with a reflective focus? You didn’t say.” The reedy voice asked quickly.”

“See me after; we need to get on.” The Dean said testily, “To bind a focus is the first step to mage-hood. The process is simple… which is why we keep it so secret!” A chuckle ran around the class before the Dean continued. “Push a single thread of mana into the object, then hold it there until the item completely absorbs the mana. Repeat the process three times. And that is it! The greatest secret of our times is now in your hands!”

Dave almost laughed. He almost screamed. He almost cried.

Three years of working here, for that?

The lecture concluded a few minutes later; as they filed out of the room, Dave heard the Dean ask one of the students to fetch that ‘lazy janitor’ and get him to clean the room.

Dave hurried back through the roof as quietly as he could. He was just putting the ladder away, its purpose served, when the knock on the door surprised him. They never usually knocked.

“Yes?” Dave asked as he opened the door. A fierce-looking young woman, as tall as he was and heavily muscled for a noble, cocked her head to the side when he did.

“Are you okay?” She asked, looking at him.

“Fine, sorry about the mess, young Mistress.” Dave brushed quickly at the dust and cobwebs all over him. “I was cleaning the eaves.”

“No problem; the Dean asked if you could please clean the lecture hall. If you have a moment.” She looked hesitant, “But you look busy….”

“I will go at once, young Mistress,” Dave bowed. “The eaves can wait till later.”

“Call me Bernice, please.” The woman looked uncomfortable, “I’m not anyone's Mistress.”

Dave stared briefly before remembering himself, “I’m afraid that is not allowed, but I thank you anyway.” He bowed.

“Oh, sorry.” Bernice frowned, “Well, if you ever see me outside this place, then feel free to call me Bernice.”

“I will remember that, thank you.” Dave tried not to smile. They would never be allowed to be in the same city unless he was working. Still, it was a nice thought.

“Well, I better get to class. It was nice to meet you, Mister…?”

“Just Dave, young Mistress.” Dave almost laughed at her wince at the words. “Foundlings have no last names.”

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Dave. I have to go, but could you get rid of this for me? It’s no good, apparently.” She smiled and held out a small silver hand mirror.

“Of course, young Mistress.” Dave took the item gently. “I will have it incinerated immediately.”

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“Thanks,” She waved and hurried off as Dave looked down in wonder.

It was a focus. A prepared focus. He quickly hid it in the little alcove he had behind his desk. It was lined with wards to prevent scrying. It would be safe there until later.

He hurried off to the Lecture Hall and cleaned feverishly. Even the Dean seemed impressed with the speed as he got everything sparkling. A muttered well done as he cleared out fell on deaf ears.

His whole reason for being here was waiting for him; Dave could barely contain his excitement as he went about the rest of his day. As the mind-numbing tasks passed under his hands, his mind was miles away, thinking about how he had gotten here.

Life as a foundling child was not exactly pleasant. In a society so divided by class and standing, having no family at all made you the lowest of the low. And boy, did they ever get treated accordingly. Even in his mid-twenties, Dave still had scars all over his body from the beatings. They were often not even for anything. They were beaten simply for existing. Of the dozen or so children he had shared a tiny room with, only just under half lived long enough to leave. Of the survivors, only one other still had any life in them. He saw the others from time to time. The three others simply did their jobs and then drank in the tavern before stumbling home, eyes dull and lifeless. As for Carl, he was away at the front lines of whatever war was currently raging between nobles.

He missed Carl, who was the only other person nearly as angry as he was. It had made them firm friends in their teens. Carl let his anger out on the battlefield. If he had been a Noble or even a Commoner, he would have been a hero. As a foundling, he was treated as a tool.

Dave had taken another path. Unlike Carl, Dave had learned to swallow his anger, pushing it down, smiling, and bowing like a good servant. It had served him well. People liked to see you behave as you ‘should’ rather than as an actual person. It was easier for them. Dave had gotten himself a good reputation and was always willing to do the jobs no one else wanted. And he did them with a smile and a bow.

When they had finally asked him to work as the College of Magic’s Janitor, he had smiled and bowed. Hiding his genuine smile beneath his usual mask of servility.

Dave had a plan. He was going to become a mage. With magic on his side, he would automatically be considered one of the nobles. Only Nobles had access to magic. They saw to it that no one else could have it, keeping all its secrets confined to their own class.

Until today.

No one thought servants were important. Especially Janitors. They automatically ignored them. Dave considered it almost to be magic of its own. While they ignored him, Dave listened. Gathering knowledge as he caught bits and pieces of lectures and pieced them together in his mind.

Other than invisibility, another advantage of being a foundling was that everyone assumed you were stupid. It was what had let Dave clean windows in Lecture Halls all over campus as he listened intently.

They should have thrown him out.

They should have kept their secrets.

The only Lecture he had never gotten into before today was the end of the introduction to magic. The Dean hated him, almost pathologically so.

But Dave took his comments, his beatings, and his scorn. For three years.

Well, today, it paid dividends.

And what luck with the focus object! Sure he had tried to prepare one, Had even gotten a few bits of old metal and beaten himself a small rod to use… but they were just basic things. Homemade. Another mage had prepared the one the girl Bernice had given him. That made it ten times more powerful.

Filing downstairs with the other servants in the College, Dave was in his own world. The servants had a thin porridge as the servers passed by with plates laden with roasts, stuffed birds, candied fruits, and more.

Most didn’t even look up at the parade of fine foods that passed them by. Dave’s eyes flickered to each plate as they passed. They would be his soon.

No more porridge for him. Ever.

Half an hour later, he was back in his Janitor’s closet. He sat on his bedroll and examined the fine silver hand mirror. It thrummed slightly with the primed mana inside it. He went over all he had learned in the last three years. All theory, no practice. Until tonight.

Climbing back into the roof, with the mirror tucked protectively to his chest, Dave made his way out onto the rooftops and across to his own private mage tower. He had found the abandoned Bell Tower on the far end of the roof after being sent to clear the blood off the roof from a particularly bad error of judgment by a student. It had made it rain stinking blood for a week. And he had to clean it all by himself. Those were bad days, and only finding the tower stopped him from quitting and joining Carl in the military.

Dusty and full of bats at first, he had cleaned it till it sparkled. At least the top floors did. The rest he carefully left dirty to ensure no one decided to put it back into use. The lessons he had learned were then inscribed on the walls. His private mage tower.

As he always did, Dave approached carefully. The nobles guarded their power jealously and would not hesitate to kill him if he was found before becoming a powerful mage.

Before he could pass The Test.

He and Carl had been teens, sneaking a few drinks out the back of a pub when the last Commoner had passed The Test. They had only heard about it thanks to hiding in that alley. The two guardsmen had been taking a break, leaning against the entrance to the passage as they talked.

As the conversation went on, Carl rolled his eyes and began to sneak sips from the flagon they had stolen. Dave, on the other hand, was listening intently, his world changing forever. The older guardsman was complaining that one of his favorite punching bags had undertaken The Test and become a mage. The younger guard had laughed, assuming it was a joke. It wasn’t. A commoner had risen to the Noble classes and become a mage.

As for the guardsman? He was leaving the city on the first cart after his shift ended. Going to join the army and fight on the front lines. When his younger colleague asked him why, the older man simply chuckled bitterly and said that if he stayed, he would be dead anyway.

“He’s a Noble now, lad. Whatever he was yesterday doesn’t matter.” The older guardsman shook his head and said it was time to go. At that moment, while Carl chatted about how he might join the military, Dave had formed a plan.

A plan that took him almost ten years to carry out.

A plan that took its first step on the road to salvation in that alleyway was coming to fruition tonight.

As Dave pushed through the loose board that marked his entrance to the tower and climbed the steps to the top, his heart was thundering in his chest. This was it, the moment at last…

As he cultivated his mana, feeling the mana swirling through the channels in his spirit, Dave fought to calm himself. No matter how excited he was, it was a challenge to control mana. Calm was required.

It took him almost a full hour to finally slow his racing heart and find some sort of peace in his mind. Another hour passed as he deepened his focus. Finally, once he felt ready, Dave opened his eyes.

On the floor in front of him was a selection of three items. One was a simple stone, rubbed smooth by the river's tides that ran beside the college. The next was a rough metal rod, beaten straight and polished as much as he could possibly manage. The hand mirror was the last. With mana running through his system, the difference in power was evident. The metal rod was inert and lifeless, while the stone held just the slightest of glows. On the other hand, the mirror shone like a diamond in sunlight with all the mana in it.

Decision time…

The metal rod would work, but barely. It could hold and channel mana; any metal object could. The stone would be a struggle to get the mana thread into, but once it was in, it actually had some mana, thanks to the powerful river. At the top of the heap was the mirror. It was obviously superior in every way except for the warning.

No reflective objects.

It was a pity the class had been so focused on the Zombie Ent. They had never gotten around to the warning about reflective items. Picking the mirror up and examining it closely, Dave thought about removing the mirror part. That would leave it basically intact but non-reflective.

Unfortunately, it looked like the majority of the mana was in the mirror itself. If he removed it, the focus would be destroyed. Uncertain, Dave tried to make up his mind. Going over his options again and again, there was one fact he came back to; a mage prepared the focus.

They would never have made it for the young Bernice if it was that dangerous. It was probably specially warded against whatever the problem could be.

That was it.

Definitely.

Before he could hesitate or change his mind, Dave pushed a single thread of mana into the focus. It melted into the object quickly, so he added a second, this one took slightly longer to absorb, but nothing worrying. The third one took almost an hour.

Class Obtained!

Mage - Apprentice Level.

Noble Rarity.

Dave slapped a hand over his mouth as he yelled in triumph. After ten years of work, he finally made his dream come true. He was a mage, an apprentice-level mage. A Noble.

If he could pass The Test. He needed to practice, to learn three spells and master them. Cultivate his mana… the list was endless.

But first, he had to find a way to disguise his focus. Getting out the items that had cost most of the money he had saved in the last ten years, Dave hesitated.

The lessons said it would be okay… and he had no choice. He carefully wrapped the red silk cloth around the base of the mirror. As more and more of it was covered, a new item seemed to emerge. As the final wrapping covered the top, Dave marveled at the effect.

Secrecy Silk, it really worked. In place of the mirror, he now held a silk-wrapped cube. If he looked at it and wanted to see the mirror, it was there. But all anyone else would see was the cube.

Most mages did it; after all, the focus was the heart of a mage. To keep it secret was to keep it safe.

As the first light of dawn made its way into the tower, Dave prepared to leave.

Another day as a Janitor, one of his last.

But tonight, tonight he would be a mage again.

He looked down at the mirror one more time.

What was the worst that could happen?

“Mirrors can’t eat people,” Dave chuckled as he trotted down the stairs.

“It’ll be fine.”