Weeks bustle by, and I am in another guise of a test to humiliate me. I have no plans to take the final exams this year. Failing every class wouldn’t matter— yet I am still considering it. For this pompous excuse for an educator to use his power to dissuade me. The same way this whole damn Sanctum. It wears at the barrier, holding against everything I despise in these people. Instead of breaking, it keeps me cordial as I endure their belittlement, forging my constitution into something I am disgusted to be proud of.
“You will attempt to adjust your destruction magic's flow rate. Any advanced destruction initiate can perform this. Instead of immediately disintegrating the paper, you must have it decay for three seconds. Begin.”
I have attempted something similar in my mind palace but couldn’t recreate the effect. Think a way around the problem. An external technique means I must control the flow rate of external magic. I had found a workaround for creation magic, but it relies on the thing I am interacting with to have mana channels and their mana. Does the paper have destruction mana that I can manipulate if I place a portion of it in my mouth? In my experiments, I tried reducing the concentration of destruction magic in my spit.
I place a portion of the paper in my mouth, and a tendril of destruction magic stretches out. High mage Gallah scoffs at the effort, which I ignore in favor of creating a circle with my tendril. Attracting the ambient destruction mana in the paper will increase the flow rate, thus, the decay. I set the last of my destruction magic in place, uncrouching with a smirk. It shrivels up and bursts into dust.
“Woo!” I cheer.
“Another failure.”
“What? It has decayed?”
“Yes, but I clearly stated that the decay was to last three seconds.”
“I can’t get partial credit? It took two seconds.” I boil.
“It is pass or fail. Have a nice day.” The worm sneers, disqualifying another week of work, and initiates a gallery of snickering initiates.
I vent my frustration at the forge, banging out a set of poles for the tents. The heat from the forge matches my internal temperature as I slam my hammer into the glowing metal. It obstinately yields to my will, rounding and bowing. Should I just drop it? It’s not like attending the classes means anything at this point, yet I am not sure.
Advanced Creation magic takes a different approach to that of the others. Mage Saria insists on strict direction in all things. Our lectures are concise and helpful, but the church doctrine is present. I can't blame her. After all, she is a creation mage and, therefore, obligated to the church.
“You will note that there are several areas in which you can employ these techniques to hurt others, and before I teach any of them in more detail, You all will sign a mana contract forbidding any offensive application. You can read the rest, but it essentially states that you will only use these techniques on willing patients. Good, we will be discussing the creation of bonding vitality. It is similar to what we do when we heal: take a portion of our magic to guide the magic in someone else, but instead of guiding it, we move it to one spot and keep it there. For those bonding, we connect to the heart, allowing us to bolster the patient's strength throughout the procedure. We have a few bonding gems in the front if you will grab them. It runs on the same principle as the dummy. Once it turns green, you may begin, then pass it to the next initiate.”
Greenlight emits from the gems. Watching discerns no noticeable technique. When my turn comes, I clean it off and pop it in my mouth. I can't see the color directly, but it tinges at the periphery. Establishing a connection to the gem of creation magic is simple. I sense twelve inductor runes and a power rune inside. The latter snaps to my heart via a tendril of creation, turning the light green.
I open my mouth, and the green light cuts off as soon as it exits. I clean off the spit and hand it to the next initiate with an apologetic grin. The disgust vanishes when it starts blinking. Back at the front, mage Saria stares. I ignore the attention and consider how the gem creates a facsimile of a heart. The inductor runes simulate ambient mana flow, and the power in the center is the heart itself. But how did it automatically shift to red? How are the runes testing the formation?
My first thought comes from the size of the runes; if they are delicate enough, the flow rate limits how much mana you can inject. Too much, and you will overcharge the flow rate of the rune, dispersing the mana inside. So, the gem charges with light mana and uses a different outcome to change color. If there is too much mana in the gem when it disperses, the color is red, but if you correctly complete the rune formation with your mana tendril, it will turn green.
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“That will be it for today. You can read more about this practice in the Athenary. Next week, we will be establishing real connections, so make sure to study. Vesh, will you stay behind?”
“Yes, Mage Saria?”
“You might have more trouble creating the connection. When we do the practical lesson, I will have you paired with me to mitigate any failure.”
“Is it because of where I need to create the connection?”
“Yes, you will need more control to create and maintain your connection, which will cost more magic. It has a relatively low cost, so that shouldn’t be a problem, but we must keep both in mind.”
“Thank you, Mage Saria.”
“Of course, now get going. You should not keep High mage Gallah waiting.”
I drag my feet and arrive at the practical room just in time. Gallah growls at my entry, a single moment of truth between us. I could quit, but he would get off on that. I smile knowingly, slowly walking to the designated starting position. I notice a slight twitch in his brow, making everything easier. He's also annoyed, fueling my desire to continue pestering the loathsome— Breath. There is a rock with a diameter of five centimeters, twenty meters away.
“You failed the last of these tests, so if you wish to resign instead, I will oblige. If not, you will only get five attempts this time.”
I don't answer the puffed-up bag of hot air. An impaired worldview will make any interaction worthless. I practiced for this, and I can do it. A moment in my head assesses the trajectory needed. As for force, a precise application of wind in my mouth sends the destruction magic soaring. It lands squarely on the rock and disintegrates a portion of it.
“I’ll be leaving now,” I growl, holding back the jubilation that wants to burst forth.
High mage Gallah’s contempt gleans in a glance but nothing further. The confounded agitation that rests there is a delight to witness. But I have more important things to do than revel in a pointless victory.
The following practical lesson for advanced creation magic occurs in the chapel on campus grounds. It is a place you don’t go to until you have to. I believe in the purity of creation and the terror of destruction, but the chapel stands for more than that. It stands for the solutions we use to honor those beliefs. How can knowledge be wrong? How can understanding be damned in favor of tradition? How can this place act so damn proud of ignorance?
My reluctance steps aside as I step into the reception area. The crystal chandelier hangs from the roof three stories up, shining creations’ light. Everything is white, pristine, and cold, acclaiming the fortitude of purities traditions. The stained glass depicts the fall, the founding, and the eternal struggle. Destruction is a vast snake that slithers through the Waste. Creation never personifies, but the windows achieve this in shades. To the discerning observer, creation is the wall that rises to stop the snake, the people who choose to defend it. In the margins of that epic defense, those who were frantic fought to maintain that precious creation: The mages in white robes. Further, creation could only be the light that shines through.
My group is easy to spot in the lobby; Mage Saria stands at their head, answering questions. I walk up to a haughty initiate, professing,
“Never have I waited for such a long time.”
The postulations jumping in are currently digging into my palms. Do rich people not wait in lines? I shouldn’t, but I have to know.
“Do you not wait in lines?” I interrupt.
“Excuse me?”
“Do you not wait in lines, like at a shop or to get into the capital?”
“Of course not, you pleb. Do you know who I am?”
I ignore the rest of their reply, reeling at the realization. How could they get past the lines? What do they do? Sending someone to get food is easy enough. A separate entrance into the capital for rich people? Hatred for all this pomp, the useless opulence now reminds me of my classmates. Mage Saria has little patience for the brat and shuts them up soon after.
“Okay, Is that everyone? Good. This way, little ones. Stay in double file. You will not get in the way of these Mages. They are saving lives. What are you doing? Do not look into the rooms,” she herds, “We have some volunteers in the chapel. They will be putting their trust in you, so you must be careful. Mistakes will happen, but if there is negligence, then there will be retribution. Do you hear me? Go on, and there is a patient for each. Once the connection forms, you will call one of my assistants, and they will check it. We will attempt to maintain the connection for one minute, but if it becomes unstable, let go; do not force it. Now you, Initiate Vesh. You will need a finger?” She offers.
“Indeed.”
“Go ahead.” She obliges, sitting before extending a finger.
“Have you washed?” I hedge.
“Rot all. I will be right back.”
Upon her return, I allow the finger into my mouth, spooling creation magic strands before slowly reaching out. It's like trying to grab something in the dark, but instead of being able to walk, you have to press up against a corner and reach around it to squeeze through. I tire with the effort, but the tendril is still stable. I am moving through her channels, and even if I can't see them, I have a basic idea of how they are composed.
All channels are composed of the same forks, spans, and centers. I have to follow up the arm, around the armpit, and straight across to the heart. The magic pumps through the channels faster than the flow rate. The source of that pumping increases my excitement, but I force myself to go slowly. Connecting to the heart requires patience, and I am opening my eyes to a spinning world.
After a moment, the world stills, with my connection intact and stable. I use almost all of my creation magic to connect, and the effect is strong. Yet, it still costs more than I can regenerate. I cut the connection with a tingling sensation.
“That's very good. Though you will have to be able to hold it for longer.”
“Holding it wasn’t the problem. I don't have enough regeneration to maintain it.”
“Really? Oh. It is good you noticed that and cut the connection.”
“Is there any way to reduce the magic needed for this?”
“You can weaken the external projection, but it will reduce its effectiveness.”
“Could I bolster it with another magic?”
“No. Do not do that.”
“Okay… So, nothing else. Well, my regeneration and total magic have been getting better. I think.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Is it not?”
“Simple. Our mana pools don’t get bigger. Sure, you may be able to stretch it a bit, but if you can’t perform a third-tier spell by the end of schooling, you are unlikely ever to cast one.”
“Third-tier?”
“It will not be relevant until your second year if you pass my class.”
“And today?”
“Today, you passed.”
“Thank you, Mage Saria.”