Olly Briggs
As he crossed the atrium upon his return to the Academy, Olly felt a wave of apprehension wash over him. It had only been a few days and yet it seemed much longer than that. Going home felt a bit like entering a black hole; the depth of the conversations that had taken place gave him the sense that it had been much longer than it actually had. However, the second he entered the school he was reminded of the unfathomable tragedy that had only taken place less than a week prior. The atmosphere seemed different; a heavy silence hung in the air replacing the usual lively conversations with subdued murmurs. All tapestries and curtains had been replaced from their usual colourful states with black velvet; a sure sign of the mourning that continued to take place.
As he ventured towards the dorms the memories of the distressing event came right back to him. The chaos, the anguish, and the collective loss had left an indelible mark on the entire community. Faces that were once filled with warmth and familiarity now bore expressions etched with sorrow and grief, a testament to the pain they had endured together.
However, the feeling of solidarity was also very present. Amidst the overwhelming sorrow, a glimmer of resilience emerged. Despite the palpable grief, there was an underlying determination among students, teachers, and guild fellows to navigate through the pain together. Classmates clung tightly to each other and lecturers were milling about and asking students how they were coping.
Olly made eye contact with Brandon who gave him a knowing nod. Olly gave him a thin-lipped smile.
“How are you doing mate?” he asked quietly.
“Ah, well, you know. Fine, I suppose. We were lucky,” Olly said simply.
Brandon looked slightly incredulous. “I think you’re being humble mate. I’d suggest that it was the Conductors who were lucky that you were there!”
Olly blushed. “I mean, I wouldn’t go that far. I practically leveled a side of the building. I don't think that was something anyone wanted.”
Brandon clapped him on the shoulder. “You saved the Grandmaster,” he said seriously, “Not to mention everyone else who was captured, including the Mayor of Donnol I might add. I don’t think that’s going too far and I do think you can reasonably expect to be rewarded.”
“Uhhhhh, sure. I guess,” Olly said bashfully, "But I don't need or want anything, honestly."
“Look I know it’s not the right time, and I know you’re too polite, but seriously, you might want to expect to be treated differently around here. You’ve more than earned it.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll see!” Olly was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. He didn’t want accolades, all he did was what anyone else was trying to do. Stop the attackers and prevent loss; it was everyone’s goal. He wasn’t better than anyone because of his magic, it just happened to work out for him and, by extension, everyone else.
“Why don’t you run along to your dorm and get settled back in? If you’re feeling up to it I’d love to pick your brain over a lab session later this week. No pressure though,” he offered.
Olly gave him a small smile. “Sure, I can do that. How about after classes on the second day?”
“Sounds perfect, see you then!”
They bid each other farewell and Olly continued his trek to the dorms. As he entered the common area right before the hallways to the bedrooms he was greeted with raucous applause. He was caught entirely off guard and stood stunned in the doorway as his classmates loudly cheered.
“We’ve been waiting for you to come back!” Odette exclaimed.
“I can see that,” Olly said, still shell-shocked.
They clamored around him asking how he was and what it felt like. He wasn’t entirely sure how to answer but tried as best he could to field the questions. Yes, he was fine. No, it didn’t hurt. No, he didn’t pass out this time. Yes, he was aware of where he was punching through to. No, he wasn’t guessing.
He looked around desperately and saw Sarah hanging off to the side wearing a half grin. He silently pleaded with her to save him and she moved forward.
“Alright guys, let’s give him space,” she suggested. They listened and stepped back slightly but still chattered away.
“I’m going to unpack now, I’ll see you guys in class tomorrow,” he promised them, slowly extricating himself from the crowd. He was starting to get overwhelmed.
Fortunately, they seemed satisfied and let him go without much issue. He made eye contact with Sarah and gently jerked his head for her to join him. They escaped up to his room and he threw his bag on the floor before letting himself topple face down on his bed with a groan.
She closed the door and sat on his chair.
“They seem surprisingly untraumatized,” he mumbled into the bed.
“Surprisingly, yes,” she agreed, “But technically they didn’t see anyone die or get badly injured so I suppose they bounced back quickly. Also basically all of them come from old Conductor families so there’s no way their families wouldn’t impart maintaining a stiff upper lip at all times on them.”
He pushed himself up and flipped over into a seated position. “My uncle didn’t want me to come back,” he confessed.
She was quiet for a moment. “Neither did my parents.”
He felt strangely better hearing her say that. “He said that he’s worried about what comes next.”
“They said they’re worried about what it means for the future of the Guilds,” she said simply, folding her hands behind her head and leaning backward.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
“I think I need to be here to face whatever happens. There’s some fucked up shit going on but I don’t want to feign ignorance and do nothing,” she said fiercely, "Not when I can help make things better."
He felt the first genuine smile he had experienced since returning come back to his face. “Agreed. I’m here for that.”
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Classes resumed at the start of the week. They were told that all deadlines and quizzes were pushed back by a week so that they didn’t have to worry about missing class. Olly felt relieved. Though he had used the time off to relax, it had given him a good opportunity to catch up on a lot of the basics he had been missing. He came into the week’s classes not feeling behind for once, which was refreshing.
Not only that but he found that he could follow along with his classmates which also gave him a huge confidence boost.
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He met up with Bowen and Sarah in the common hall for lunch. Bowen congratulated him the same way his Conductor cohort had and he shook his head in a shocked way.
“Does everyone know?” he asked incredulously.
“Dude, yes. Everyone has heard about what you did. A first-year student pulled some special magic to save the Grandmaster and the day. Of course, everyone is talking about it!”
Olly felt his stomach turn and he was almost put off from eating his lunch. Almost.
“Listen, it’s better than what we did,” Bowen said in a hushed voice. They leaned in to hear him.
“What happened at the Cartographers’ Guild?” Sarah asked, frowning, “I heard you guys all managed to get to safety before anything went down.”
“Well… Kind of. Franklin actually left us all behind and evacuated himself through a hidden access point. Our headquarters are basically within an old castle and I guess there are lots of secret passageways. Also, the attackers were a bit slowed down in reaching us because it's strongly fortified on its own. So he fled, and we were alerted quickly enough to get to a stronghold within the headquarters, which meant the attackers had little opportunity to do much of anything except some cosmetic damage. They escaped and we were fine,” Bowen said conspiratorially.
“Wow, what a fearless leader,” she said sarcastically.
Olly snorted. Something about Franklin turning tail and running away was vindicating. It further made him feel better about his choice to not choose the Cartographers. Not to mention, he also couldn’t see himself being inspired to get to the point of using magic to save someone like Franklin.
“It is too bad about Alzira though,” Sarah said somewhat wistfully, “And the people who died with her. It’s crazy how different each Guilds’ experiences were. I thought ours was bad but I haven’t spoken to any of the Controllers. They’re downright traumatized.”
“Yeah, we got lucky for sure,” Bowen agreed.
“What about the attacker who was captured? Has anyone heard anything about that?” Olly asked curiously.
Bowen frowned. “I don’t think so, they’ve been keeping it fairly hush-hush.”
“Interesting,” Olly said thoughtfully. So many had escaped, it was horrifying to think where they were and what they were plotting. He thought back to when he was followed coming home the other night and shuddered.
“I’m sure we’re safe in here. They’re increasing security on the premises,” Sarah chimed in.
“They’d have to if they wanted Franklin to come back to work,” Bowen snickered.
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Mythology class hadn’t gotten any more interesting, unfortunately. Steven’s delivery was showing no signs of improvement and self-teaching the content only carried Olly’s interest so far. In today's lesson, the class was once again listless. Steven droned on and on. Even Sarah had long given up the one-sided staring grudge match today.
They were learning about the followers of the Magician and the Scientist. The first several, very dry, lessons had focused on the two mythological figures that stood vigil at the entrance of the Academy. However, they each had their own companions and retainers that formed the broader group of followers. The Scientist's followers were scholars, thinkers, and artisans, drawn to the pursuit of knowledge and the exploration of the natural world. Meanwhile, the Magician's disciples consisted of sorcerers, enchanters, and mystics, captivated by the allure of magic and the unseen forces that permeated the early Flexibilis of myth.
“Excuse me, sir, what about the false prophet?” Sarah raised her hand and called out innocently.
This perked up Olly’s interest. In fact, it seemed to stir up excitement in the class. No one was expecting anything to shake up Steven’s monotonous delivery. Least of all Steven, who appeared highly frazzled by the disruption. It was clear all he wanted to do was drone on through the content as quickly as possible.
“I… I’m sorry?” he spluttered.
“The false prophet,” she explained, slowly, “The one whose scheming was said to have almost broken up the duo?”
“Yes, well, we’re not quite at that stage…” he trailed off, flipping desperately through his notes.
There seemed to be a collective groan in the class and he snapped his book shut. Steven pinched the bridge of his nose with a defeated sigh.
“Fine. What do you want to know?” he asked.
Sarah smirked. “Why did she turn on them? Was she unhappy with their teachings?”
It was clear the last thing Steven wanted to do was have a conversational approach to teaching but he knew when he had been beaten. Having worked with him beyond this class it was fascinating to watch because Olly knew he wasn’t as meek as he appeared. He suspected he might have been a good lecturer at one point.
“Well, according to legend, because this is all just made up, she followed them at first. She was the one who brought them together, having observed that their teachings could be harmonious rather than in opposition to each other. However, as they became closer the false prophet felt side-lined. She had wanted to advance some of her own more controversial teachings through them but they had no desire to be her mouthpiece,” he explained.
“What were her teachings?” someone else asked.
“Well, she believed in the superiority of those who could wield magic and she saw science as an explanation as to why those people were dominant to those who couldn't,” he explained, “As the legend goes, the Scientist and the Magician recognized the danger posed by the false prophet's machinations. When she didn’t get her way she twisted their teachings, sowing discord and chaos among the other followers and exploited the delicate balance between science and magic.”
“So what happened to her?” Olly chimed in.
“She was banished. To where, I’m not sure. Again, these are all just metaphorical stories and cautionary tales. Her’s in particular is supposed to show why we’re not supposed to see ourselves as superior to the general populace,” he finished explaining. He grabbed his lecture book and began to flip back to the page he had left off, signaling that he was finished with this impromptu lesson.
“But… A lot of people still believe that, don’t they?” Sarah asked casually.
He flicked his eyes up at her from over his book. “I’m sorry?”
The rest of the class similarly stared at her like she had grown a second head.
“I’m suggesting that it’s a real problem that we should be fixing with our image,” Sarah continued, “There’s nothing that makes us inherently better than anyone else, and believing that to be true could lead to disastrous consequences, could it not?”
Knowing what he knew, even Olly hadn’t seen her laying that trap. Some of the other students shifted uncomfortably.
Steven seemed to be looking at her under a new light. “What’s your name?” he asked quietly, eyes darting all around as he studied her face.
“Sarah Weldon,” she responded. Her eyes carried a challenge.
Olly watched as recognition washed over Steven’s face, quickly replaced with horror and finally shame.
“Class dismissed,” he said simply and packed up his things without a second glance back.
“You broke him,” Olly said simply as they walked out together. A few of the other students seemed to be discussing how peculiar that class had been. Olly heard one suggest that it was the best class yet.
“He deserves much more than that, I assure you,” she shrugged, “Have you had many interactions with him in the lab?”
“Not really,” Olly lied.
“Ah, well, better luck next time. Let’s go grab a spot in the library.”
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After everyone had gone to bed, Olly's curiosity inspired him to further read up on the false prophet. He had never heard someone be described as having violent magical outbursts. He flipped through his textbook, searching for any hint of something that stood out to him. Finally, he found an artist’s rendition of the false prophet, depicted as a woman with long dark hair, standing with her arms spread wide and a vicious look on her face. Stood facing a small crowd of people, several of which appeared to be ducking from her wrath, while several stones from a cobblestone bridge appeared to be exploding. Dust and debris rained down on the crowd.
He froze.
Surely not. Surely this wasn’t something unique to her.
He flipped through his book, more desperately this time, as he scanned for any other signs of magic use. But alas, every reference was used to show times of peace. People performing charitable deeds, teaching crowds of gatherers, and helping to build up society.
He felt an ache forming in his stomach. He knew he was different, but was it possible for him to be different... like her?
He flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time before falling asleep. His nightmares returned that night.