Chapter 20
Riley felt lost in a fractured nostalgia as they finally arrived at their last class of the day.
She was also sleepy; after a massive lunch and a night of low sleep, the afternoon descended into a haze, her full belly working as well as a sleeping pill, granting the world a dreamy, airy quality.
Lunch had indeed been provided, and the thoughtful academy hadn't left her out either, two carts in the mess hall provided both raw meat and fresh fruit and grasses for the companions of the students and faculty.
Her existence was normal here, one of the many things that was close to the old world she partially remembered, but it wasn't exactly the same. Service and working animals, of course, had existed there, but they were not a ubiquitous part of life, integrated and accepted as a matter of course.
It was strange, the silver torc now around her neck, and her proximity to Tobias granted her an odd sort of respect in this new society. She had both more and less, if not rights, privilege and access than many of the peasants she had seen since arriving. She was a necessity, a magical being on the side of order and civilization, and such beings needed to be maintained.
The common people, though, appeared to be more of a take-or-leave concern in the eyes of the furless authorities.
"Huh, humans do feel like a different species," she said to herself, careful not to project as Tobias mixed ingredients, carefully tweaking and manipulating the heat on the potion. Every few minutes it would glow, its shade shifting, as the instructor either praised or instructed, but rarely grew impatient or criticized.
Riley's head swam as her drowsiness competed with her deep thinking. After days in a cage and moments of wonder and terror, it was, perhaps appropriately, at a school where she really began to parse things out and come to a greater understanding of how different her life and she had become.
She was no longer human and did not care. Magic was real, and she was now a family pet with the ability to potentially level a city block once adequately trained.
"I suppose these things happen," she said to herself again, except that these things didn't happen.
"Unless death is like this for everyone? Thrown into a new life and a new existence, sink or swim?" Her eyes went wide at that internal thought, wisping by with a hidden gravity.
She had died, that event was firmly in her past, had met her guardian angel, and was now on the other side of that event.
For all of its purported terror, it hadn't been so bad, and she had died well. That was what her species did, after all.
"My new species, kind of," she corrected herself, that thought tugging at a deep pang of concern.
Everything was still disjointed, her thinking existing much like the icebergs of memory floating in a warm sea, dissolving slowly into the essence of the new creature that she was. She was working her own alchemy within, independent of the assignment and the students gathered around her.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Now, Tobias, can you tell the class why we must increase the heat gradually, over the course of at least half an hour?" A kindly and beautiful dark skinned, black robed mage asked. Thin, with high cheekbones and a prominent nose, her brown eyes gleamed with interest and bemusement.
"Quantitatively, the effect would be the same if we did not apply such finesse, but the more brutal and harsh the method of production, the harsher the reaction and effect the potion will have on the user. If it is made gently, it will effect gently; if it is made with haste and brutality, the reagents within will respond in kind. There is as much to do with a quality potion, therefore, in how it's made as what it contains. Magic has a memory of sorts," he said, never taking his eyes off his beaker.
"A thoughtful and correct answer, do all present understand?" She asked, as one student in the back raised her hand.
"Yes, Guinevere?" The teacher asked warmly.
"If magic has a memory, how can it not be alive? That part has always confused me," she admitted with a boldness and a clarity that belied a desire to know.
"A good question. Do not worry, child. Many struggle with this maxim, and it is still the cause of much scholarly debate. Consider the breath; the breath in and of itself is not alive, but by drawing breath into one's lungs, life is animated and thus sustained. However, the breath can carry other things upon it, chemicals, dust, and things of that nature.
Now, with magic, it is the precursor for all life and all things to exist. Just as a breath can carry dust and other elements, magic carries elements of spirit, emotion, and intent. A wise sorcerer is thus ever mindful of their methods and mentality when they cast or create."
Guinevere's eyes lit up in understanding as many students paused from their work to consider the instructor's words.
That was another difference. It stood out to Riley like a beacon in the night. The instructors, at least, everyone she had seen that was actually teaching, cared deeply for their charges understanding, would work with individuals, and bandy about their questions treating them with respect.
They did not just want them to know or pass their exams but to understand. Sorcerers here fought monsters, made up the government, and kept the world running, so it was incumbent that they knew not just what to think but how to think.
"Now, we are coming to the end of our lesson for the day. Please finish your potions," the instructor moved towards her own work table and struck the tiny desk bell twice, its delicate chime causing Riley's ears to twitch.
"I think I like this place," She projected quietly as Tobias sent a flickering burst of magic through the liquid.
The inspector eyed him with concern.
After a few minutes to cool, he raised the beaker to his eyes and gave it a tentative shake.
"The color is right, it smells right, I think it worked," he said, pleased with his result. Tobias secured it in a little cubby under his lab table with a host of others like it before shutting the door.
His name was written on a label on the front of it, neighboring others.
"Tobias, a word," the instructor commanded as the rest of the students began to file out.
"Yes Ma'am?" He trotted up to the desk, as Riley shadowed him.
"You've a new companion, yet I notice you still have difficulty holding your magic at times," she observed.
Tobias' ears turned red.
"Still working that out," He replied, squirming a bit in place.
"Yet you've had no problem passing your physical exams. I grow concerned. You will be relying on your magic soon. Would you like me to work with you, perhaps after class, in the training yard? I, too, am a fire mage, as you know," Her vibrant yet gentle voice threatened to put Riley to sleep again, no matter how serious the conversation.
"If I pass my trials," he said, the worry evident, "I think it's just a confidence problem. I'm working on some new angles."
"Work fast, but have faith in yourself. I'm here if you need me; that offer stands." She smiled warmly.
"I'll think about it, but for now, if I may, ma'am, I'd prefer to take my leave. I'm needed after courses today. Know that I'm truly grateful for your concern," he gave a short but respectful bow.
"It's important we all reach our potential, for Ashenrealm, now run along. Remember, as sorcerers all, we never face our trials purely alone," She reminded him as he turned to leave.