“Why does such a disparity exist between commoner and noble in Illyrian Society? After all, Martial and Magical talent may be uncommon, but not rare. Mana is abundant in our Empire, therefore its scarcity does not restrict the common folks access to the Energy of Heaven. The answer is quite simple, resources are the cause.”

Hectares the Wise “Treatise of Magic, Vol 1” 832 IC

Chapter 2

Exiting the carriage, Wil approached the open gates of the Academy of Magic, while removing a token from his satchel he carried. The token would remove the magical restrictions from the gate, allowing entry. Wil felt the cool sensation of the Academy’s wards pass over him, a subtle reminder of the power they held, as most common warding schemes were undetectable.

Wil continued his way to the Magical Theory building that was located just a short way down the path. The Academy was like a small town, with wide paved roads lined with trees. Flowers, planted in long neat rows provided an array of colors. The air of the Academy Exterior always smelled of flowers, fresh cut grass and a familiar sharp, ozone like smell that Wil had come to associate with large concentrations of Mana.

Wil passed by the stalls set up by some of the students, selling a variety of items ranging from freshly brewed potions, materials gathered from their adventures into the wilds, and artifacts that were either found or created by them. The Academy would allow students to set up stalls, for a fee, allowing the poorer students to earn extra resources for their training. Some of the wealthier patrons even founded shops, permanent structures that serviced the need of the small, but wealthy community.

Without sparing a glance at the stalls and shops, Wil arrived at his destination. The Magical Theory classes were held in a brick building whose defining feature were its numerous large windows, a requirement to allow adequate lighting for its many classrooms and study areas.

Making his way inside, Wil entered the foyer where a large group of his fellow students were gathered, waiting for classes to begin. He sat at the nearby sitting area and closed his eyes, weary from the short walk to the building. He let the conversations of his peers wash over him, disinterestedly half paying attention to the gossip in order to quickly pass the time.

“I heard that Emily and Piers were caught in the second-floor study room together, they were...” a woman spoke to the left of Wil.

“Do you have a copy of yesterday’s notes on Goblin Shamanistic Rituals? I missed the section…” Another male student asked to Wil’s right.

“My uncle told me that our class we will be taking part in a Goblin extermination come Nightfall. Apparently, they have it already marked to the east, should be simple, a few nests have been found on the border.” A male student, whose name Wil couldn’t remember but he did know that his uncle was higher up in the Imperial Legion, whispered to his companion. Wil perked up at this information.

‘Finally, something interesting to look forward to’ Wil thought.

The sounds of shuffling feet, students picking up belongings and excited chatter informed Wil that class was starting. Reluctantly, he climbed to his feet and picked up his satchel from the floor nearby.

Entering the classroom, Wil climbed the stairs toward the back of the amphitheater, taking his favorite seat. The classroom was laid out with a podium in the front, and a large crystal next to it that would project any images or notes the instructor would give. The classroom could hold a maximum of 200 students, and each seat slowly filled. Wil, from the raised tiered seating in the back of the classroom, could easily see over the heads of his fellow students.

While waiting for the instructor, Wil idly glanced around the room, taking in the appearance of his peers. In particular, Wil was focusing on the outfit of one particular student to his right, several tiers below him. This student was dressed in a southern style, a burgundy silk dress, thin, with a tight-fitting bodice, which quickly became the subject of Wil’s intense focus.

“Good afternoon, Initiates!” a voice bellowed from the front of the classroom. Entering the room, the Magus in charge of Magical Theory took his place behind the podium. Dressed in the Academy’s traditional white robes with silver trim, Magus Argus Tidelok was a younger man who had recently earned his 5th tier status before the start of term. He was considered a prodigy at the academy for his achievements at his age and was well regarded by his students.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Today, we’ll be reviewing the foundational spell matrix for Evocations of the 2nd tier, while including the standard adjustments for range, intensity and duration. As you remember from your 1st tier studies, the second tier includes both the initial spell matrix as well as…” Magus Tidelok continued.

While instructing the students on spell matrices, the large crystal next the Magus began to glow and project a large construct into the air above them. A large, complicated spell matrix, similar to the shape of a snowflake, with a massive web of interlacing lines, curves and swirls appeared in the air. Magus Tidelok highlighted different portions of the complicated matrix, indicating which areas were part of the proceeding tier’s matrix, as well as which affected the range, intensity and duration of the spell.

Wil studied the floating spell matrix but did not write down any of the information. His father would consider it unseemly to be seen writing information in a notebook from a general theory class like a commoner. Better to seek out the information from his family’s library later if he required it.

Illyrian magic spells were separated into tiers, from the lowest 1st tier, all the way to the legendary 9th tier, bordering on the domain of gods. Most of the students were only capable of a few 1st tier spells before becoming exhausted.

The students practiced with the unranked or tier-less spells to refine their control of their volatile Mana. These spells required only a minimum of Mana and were relatively simple to cast.

“Now for a test of your understanding, how about… Jean! Stand up and demonstrate the matrix for a tier-less evocation!” Tidelok asked.

“Yes Sir.” Jean, a short blond woman in the front row responded by standing up and approaching the podium. Placing her hand on the large crystal, she closed her eyes and concentrated briefly. The complicated spell matrix in the air faded, replaced by a significantly simpler one. If the first was a snowflake with thousands of lines, this was a simple geometric shape with only a few dozen.

“Excellent! Now, please name the matrix, its corresponding incantation and components.”

“Tier-less Evocation, Firebolt.” The young woman responded, blushing slightly from the attention placed on her from the class. She gave the incantation while making a tossing motion with her free hand.

“Correct! The spell matrix, incantation and hand gestures were all perfect Jean. You may return to your seat now.” Tidelok praised. “Who can tell me what 1st tier spell uses this spell matrix as a foundation?”

Several hands were raised, Tidelok pointed to a young man in one of the middle rows. “Faerie Fire, Sir” the young man stood and responded.

“Very good” Tidelok commended. He proceeded to use the glowing Firebolt spell matrix, adding on additional lines, curves and geometric structures. The original dozen lines blossomed into hundreds and the complicated spell matrix to shape in the air.

“As you can see, The Firebolt spell matrix is now part of a greater construct. The requirements for distance have changed to target an individual, and the intensity is lengthened, indicated by this section” Tidelok proceeded to highlight different portions of the spell matrix.

As the class progressed through the 1st tier requirements and highlighted some of the traces of the original spell matrix that was part of the 2nd, Wil lost interest and he found his gaze making its way back to the woman with the silk dress and the fantastic view that he was enjoying.

“And remember! The spell matrix is the foundation of all magic, regardless of if you are attempting to cast a spell, use an artifact or power a ward! The matrix is what guides the mana from your body in the desired direction. Always keep the required spell matrix in your mind, clear and steady, otherwise you can chant incantations and waste as much material components as you want, nothing will happen!” With that statement, Tidelok released the class for the remainder of the day.

Wil gathered his belongings back into his satchel and made his way from the room. He always found this class to be tedious, since he was tutored in spell theory since he was a child. Although Magus Tidelok was a gifted teacher, the material was too basic to hold his interest.

As he was lost in thought, still thinking of the woman in class and his escapades the previous day, Wil was jostled roughly from behind while walking down the hallway.

“Still drunk, Brookmoor? I would have thought that a wastrel like you would have been too ashamed to show your face here again, after making a fool of yourself yesterday.” A voice said loudly behind him.

Turning, Wil saw a young man, handsome, with blond hair and green eyes. Dressed in black pants, white shirt and red overcoat, the young man was accompanied by a dark-haired young woman in a light pink dress. The crowd began to slow, and several heads turned to look at the commotion.

“Jameson” Wil spoke to the young man. “Always a pleasure! I almost didn’t recognize you, what with your head not up your brother’s behind. Honestly, I believe this is the first time I’ve seen your face in months, although you still have a bit of brown on your nose.”

The crowd erupted in laughter, while Jameson’s face began to turn beet red.