My scheduled time in the experimental room is about a week after my first class on spatial magic. I have several theories on creating an external reaction with my internal magic. These rooms are in the white buildings composing the first ring of the campus. After signing in, I proceed to a miniature version of what we use in class, with a single wooden workbench. Spilling the contents of my bag onto the table, I first grab my quill to sketch the rune formations in the room, notating the different materials and widths for each rune.
Drawing takes up half of my hour, forcing me to rush the tests. I then grab a practice rod before kneeling in front of the trough. I finally have the chance to test my theories. This bimester will end in eight weeks, and I will have to come up with a source of revenue, or I won't be here long. I can gain a valuable skill or learn to be invaluable to someone.
I scan the runes in one last check to see that everything is perfect. With a glint of hope, I place the cylindrical metal object into my mouth before plunging my head into the cleansing trough. The water is abrupt but not cold, and the depth leaves my chin sticking out of the top. At first, there is no discernible change-
My tongue slides along the runes as a connection snaps into place. Where before, there was a thin line dividing me from whatever I touched, now there's harmony; I am finally feeling the magic in the tube. This connection presents a buzzing taste as I push the mana from it. My body begins to tire— I slump against the side before I think of spitting out the rod or lifting my head from the water.
After catching my breath, I pick up the rod to examine it. I haven't even removed a quarter of the ambient mana.
“Fuck,” I curse.
After a few false starts, I am on wobbly legs, clenching the tube in my fist. No, I couldn’t finish, but I did cleanse it. This step is an achievement, so I take time to congratulate myself. Learning to connect allows my magic into an object, inaugurating my chances of working for Crucus.
Next on my list, I grab a ruined roll of paper. I adjust my back, then clear away all except the spit in my mouth. This time, as soon as I start to wobble, I stop— spitting the infused liquid onto a piece of paper. As the spit lands, both begin to disintegrate. It is a minor reaction, but it is a reaction. The bits of corrupted paper mix with the spittle as it dribbles down the page. I rejoice, throwing my fist in the air. Though this application is next to useless, it will be helpful in practical lessons.
Hoping to continue my success, I use creation magic inside my mouth. Imagining a marble in my head distinguishes my will to create, a burning to bring something into this world that screams: I am here and exist. As soon as my magic coalesces in my mouth— spots smack my vision with a punch in the face— Yet I can't stop, continue failing, quit—
Darkness invades as a cold stone is now against my-
“Can you hear me?” Someone shouts within inconsiderate proximity.
“Hard not to,” I mumble, trying to open my eyes.
“Don’t try to get up just yet. We still have to check you over.”
“Find anything good?”
“It's just depletion. You must have used a significant amount of magic,” the voice admonishes, pressing a cold object to my head.
"I won't say, even topped off, that I have a 'significant' amount of magic."
“Oh? You must be Vesh’Dan. A colleague informed me that you might be reckless. I think they underestimated your lack of self-preservation.”
“People often underestimate me.” I bluster, rubbing the ache from my head with stunted peeks through my eyelids.
“All right, you can sit up.”
“Thank you,” I thank them.
“If you deplete yourself, you feel bad. Next time you breach this trust, you will lose these privileges. Please collect all of your belongings.”
“Damn. I had quite a few tests to try.” I mumble, recalculating timelines as I inspect the room.
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“Keep hydrated, eat something, get some sleep, and don’t practice for at least two days.” They instruct over their shoulder as they leave.
Steady drums beat in my ears, and each pound splits the rift deeper. I clean up my supplies while lamenting my inability to continue testing. Once I have another appropriate reason to receive permission, I can return. I consider forestalling notification of my advancement to Mage Crucus, gaining me more time to access the experimental room, yet my desire to start amalgamating, to earn coin, dissuades me. However, this incident illustrates the dangers of practicing in a less controlled environment. I’m not exactly sure of the prolonged effects my state would incur if there were no healer nearby.
As I gather my things, I contemplate the successes and failures of my tests. Chief among them is the ability to use a loophole to mimic an external reaction with my internal magic. I got the idea from the case study of the fire-breathing children. The advancement opens a world of possibilities. Where before, I could only affect myself in an unknown way. Now, I can impact the world outside me. That discovery alone merits all the experience near death. The major boon of this advancement is my ability to work with Mage Crucus.
Thoughts drag the ground at my heels as I remember the determination that had almost killed me again. My main magical flaw is my inability to use or manipulate proper amounts of magic. But my biggest failing is the same thing that has pushed me here. I need to understand the line better. I crawl into bed, pulling the sheets over my head. I skip the next day due to the pain. Nausea sloshes inside me as I seek relief in this position or that, staggering from bed only to eat, drink, and relieve myself. By the second day, I can attend class at a diminished capacity.
I am slowly gaining ground on the subject matter of my classes, and with exams coming up, I have to choose which I will continue to study. Spatial magic has been interesting, though Phylius seems less enthused to teach me. The same can be said of destruction magic, though it will have to be one of my choices because of its level of crossover with the other magics. Though High Mage Gallah’s teaching leaves much, advanced destruction is still a good choice.
My next practical lesson is two days after my incident in the experimental room. Mage Saria, my creation magic instructor, heads a class of twelve people. The space is small, but the patterns crossing the dome are becoming familiar. She holds aloft a silver ingot.
Her voice bellows, “It is more energy intensive to form matter from magic than rearranging materials. For example, creating this bar from ore will be much easier than forming a single grain of sand. Yes, initiate Vesh’dan,” she rebukes my raised hand.
“Why isn’t this discussed in the textbooks? It seems like a core principle of the functionality of creation magic.”
“It isn’t in the textbooks because it is only useful information in practical application. You will rarely find such insights in a textbook. It dissuades naive initiates from experimenting with things they haven’t learned.” She rebukes, pinning me to the wall with her gaze.
Once the snickering dies down, she begins leading us through the exercise. She presents a tiny pebble with a reddish tint highlighted by white spots. She then hands it to the first person in line. They take it into their hand as their eyes close. The pebble grows slightly after a moment. I was expecting it to glow. It is a testing apparatus, but would my new technique work? I soon hold the pebble that has become a rock, yet it is too light.
“What am I supposed to do here?” I whisper to Mage Saria.
“Oh yes, you probably do not know of growstone. That is a porous rock that has a high affinity with creation magic. Essentially, you need to enlarge the rock by adding oxygen to it. I know it might be difficult for someone like you, but I can't change the requirement, so if you don’t succeed, you will fail this practical lesson.” She finishes instructing, looking at the rock encouragingly.
I smile before popping the rock into my mouth. Encouragement falls from her face, survived by a confused eyebrow tilt. The surface appeared solid enough, but now that it's inside my mouth, I can feel the dimples scattering it. The will of creation breathes air into the holes. I consider how many had touched it as I spit it into my robes to clear away the saliva.
“There we have it,” I beam, presenting the clean and slightly larger rock to Mage Saria.
“Well done.” She congratulates, delegating possession to the next student.
I leave the room running, picking up pace as I hit the smooth black road leading back to my death mage class. I had passed another practical course, leaving me firmer. I run whenever I can, ignoring the students staring as I spirit past. The look on Saria’s face was priceless. Sometimes, my studies mask the track of time, leaving me to sneak back to the dorms after curfew. Those and now are the only times I can physically train myself in the way I’d grown accustomed to. At some level, I might even stay out on purpose.
“Hello, Vesh’dan,” Mage Crucus greets from the side of his workshack, lying in the grass.
“Is everything alright, Mage?” I inquire.
“Yes, I am a little stuck on one of my projects. You see, fresh air clears the mind. You know this garden used to be private.”
“It is beautiful, with the roses starting to peek out.”
“It is the Naza Valley's finely trimmed bushes and grass. It is still private, though. There aren’t any signs anymore, but you won’t ever find a certain type of person here.”
“Its layout mimics many gardens I see in the city.”
“Yes, Yes— Well, Have you finished both volumes already, or have you succeeded in cleansing?”
“Uh. Both. Possibly I can help you with this problem?”
“No, the problem is beyond a pleb. I will open a tab for you at the components storehouse. With that, you should be able to help.”
“And compensation?” I hedge.
“Hmm, I can probably give you a silver per tube?”
“Is that a fair amount?”
“You won't have any way of gauging that, huh? Well, it is fair. You'll have to take my word for that. Was there anything else?” Mage Crucus offers after a moment of silence.
“Yes, I seem to have a small supply of magic. Is there any way to add efficiency to the processes?”
“Hmm… I will have you look into a paper on macro-runing techniques. They are only ever needed for larger amalgamations as their effects have diminishing returns as the runes decrease. However, I believe they will benefit you...” Mage Crucus trails off.
“I will. I have one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Are there runes used in the practical and experimental rooms that are invisible from the inside?”
“No— I mean, that is not something you need to be aware of.”
"I apologize. Thank you, Mage. Have a good day."
Crucus’s bit of attention slips from me. He is always away somewhere else, thinking through an amalgamation or examining a small thing here or there but never really looking. The pay rate is still far from ideal, given my work speed. I am adding a routine of cleansing and infusing to my already hectic day.
Knowledge and experience will continue to increase my speed, but the real bottleneck is my capacity. With my limited mana supply, infusing only two tubes will take a day. My immediate problem will be how to rune efficiently. After that, I need to find a way to squeeze more time out of my day.