Walking back to the Academy, Jeb had the sudden realization that he would need to start Brewing again if he was going to trade with Lionheart Brews. Catherine must have seen something on his face, because she hip checked him.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“I don’t know if I really feel up to Brewing right now,” Jeb admitted. “I’m a little scared of the consequences that my Magic can have.”
She nodded. “Thankfully, we have a few extra barrels of all of the Brews that we promised, so you have at least until the end of the term break when students start coming back for you to become comfortable again with your Magic.” She fell silent, though it was clear that there was more she wanted to say.
A few blocks later, Declan finally spoke up. “I know that it isn’t quite the same scale, but before I got my Class I burnt myself really badly with an Enchantment that I engraved incorrectly. I refused to go to lessons for a few weeks, until my parents sat me down and showed me the burn marks on their own arms.” Declan coughed, clearly not sure how to continue, before forging on, “I guess what I’m saying is that we know that Magic could be dangerous. In Theoretical Enchanting you always made sure that we wore the proper safety equipment, even when the rest of the tables were being more lax.”
“That’s true,” Jeb replied, not wanting to admit that he had primarily followed the safety instructions out of the vague sense that he should generally listen to authority that seemed to be looking out for his best interest. Still, it was a good point. Every course he had taken had stressed just how dangerous Magic was. It wasn’t the Academy’s fault that Jeb had mostly ignored the lectures. Telling himself that did not suddenly make his apprehension to Brew disappear, though it was a good start.
On the night before the first day of the new term, Jeb stared at the barrel in front of him. He had Brewed a non-Magical beer the day before, even using some of the Yeast Energizer he had left over from the previous term. Jeb was more than slightly interested to learn that the Yeast Energizer became less effective over time. Where it had taken mere minutes before for the beer to completely Brew, it now took almost a full hour.
Jeb shook his head. He was distracting himself. A pile of Alchemical Eyebright sat next to the container of hops that had appeared in the Brewery one day. Beside it sat a jar full of Fireleaf, which seemed to be taunting Jeb.
Catherine told him that the only beer they were short on at this point was Firestout, which meant that not only would Jeb have to Brew the beer, he would also need to roast some more malt. Gritting his teeth, he called Least Create Fire to his mind, focusing on the grains he needed to darken. The moment that a flame leapt from his fingers, Jeb almost cancelled the Spell on instinct. Forcing it to stay active, however, he instead kept roasting the grains. When he was finally finished, he let out a sigh of relief.
Jeb went through the other steps to prepare his Firestout, strongly debating adding the Yeast Energizer which did not give him time for input. As he went to pour it in, however, he felt the disproving glares of every teacher he had ever had suddenly land on him. Was he really going to make a subpar product for the sake of getting it done? More than that, was he really going to sell something that he intentionally sabotaged?
The self shaming worked, and Jeb grabbed the other bottle. Binding the Essence went far more smoothly than he had expected. It was strangely cathartic to be in control of Essence again. Unlike the Storm that was still raging outside his Brewery, this Essence responded to what he demanded. When he was finished with the barrel of beer, Jeb debated Brewing another, just because it felt so nice to be in control again. The yawn that escaped his mouth as he debated, however, put an end to that thought. Jeb returned to his Dormitory room and went to sleep, dreaming of the start of the next term.
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In the morning, Jeb joined Catherine and Declan for a breakfast before the first day of the term. Each of them had one course in particular that they were particularly excited for. Both Declan and Catherine were taking Introductory Alchemy, in part because they both wanted to be better able to understand what was happening at the Emporium. Jeb, by contrast, was focused almost entirely on the course that was scheduled to take his entire day three days a week: Ritual Magic.
“Good morning,” Dean Aquam addressed the group of students. Looking around, Jeb saw that there were ten people other than the Dean and himself in the room. The rest of them radiated the intense but undirected energy that he had become more familiar with over the term break as he spent more time with the graduate students. As they all went around for introductions, that assumption was proven accurate. The rest of the members of this course were either students preparing to finish their dissertations or post doctoral researchers somehow affiliated with the Academy. Jeb found it interesting that nobody gave a title, including Dean Aquam, who simply referred to himself as “Aquam, the Instructor for this course.”
After the brief introductions had finished, Dean Aquam clapped his hands, and mist started to fill the room. It coalesced in the center of their circle, and vague figures began to appear out of the cloud. They started to dance even as they grew more detailed, and Dean Aquam began lecturing.
“Ritual Magic has long been the most neglected of Magics for academic study. There are numerous reasons for this, though not the ones most commonly given by Scholars. The precision required within a Ritual is no less than that which a Glyph Mage needs when scribing.” Mist began to trace the paths that the dancers had gone, and an intricate design started to form.
“Ritual syntax is no less rigorous than that of an Enchantment.” The cloud zoomed in to trace a single one of the dancer’s steps. With each step, the dancer’s toes traced out a small rune. They layered on top of the runes that other dancers were writing, joining into one long statement.
“There is no more freedom in a Bard’s Song than in the rhythm of a well-practiced Ritual.” The image zoomed back out, and the inherent musicality of the practice suddenly became obvious. Just as Jeb was no longer noting the mist as particularly strange, the mist disappeared, and the room suddenly became bright.
“No, none of these are reasons that Ritual Magic has remained understudied,” Dean Aquam said into the silence. “The issue with Ritual Magic is that it cannot be studied in isolation. Every Ritual requires at least two beings. Most of the standard Rituals in academic texts require twelve, which is the reason for the number of us in this room. Other Rituals require greater or fewer numbers of students, and so not all of you will necessarily be required to attend every meeting of this course. Before I go much further, however, it is important to note that the interpersonal nature of Ritual Magic means that the bonds you have with each other may be as important as the lines you trace during a Ritual. With that in mind, let us go around again, this time sharing our reason for being in this room today. Let me begin,” something changed in Aquam’s posture. He had effortlessly slipped between his role as the instructor to simply another member of the room. A part of Jeb wished that he was able to shift so effortlessly.
He refocused on the rest of the room, listening to the different introductions that his classmates gave. All of them had research focused on historic and dead Magical traditions, which put the Dean’s opening speech into a new light. When it got around to Jeb, he tried to come up with an answer that would be better than simple interest. In the end, though, that was the most honest answer, so it was how he responded.
With introductions out of the way, Dean Aquam began to lead the class through the first Ritual they would learn. It was apparently a pair Ritual, which meant that they would need even numbers.