With smol, purple-eyed Captain on my shoulder and my two besties behind me, I attempted to navigate the gothic, black-marble halls of Nemendias to find and exterminate the girl with the pocket watch.
The ghost-chasing quest had turned to be a lot more tiring than I had presumed, as the arrow often stopped pointing one way and started to spin wildly all over, not giving me a specific direction or jumping between two different points.
After several hours of roaming the empty, echoing halls, rooms and stairwells I gave up. Grogtilda’s half-zombie, topaz-addled body simply couldn’t handle so much walking.
I ended up sitting beneath one of the numerous lilac trees in a small secluded garden with Emerald and Agatha at my sides and Captain purring on and warming my lap.
“You seem… tired,” Emmy commented.
“I am freaking tired,” I groaned, stretching and rubbing my sore muscles. “Chasing a ghost across campus with a compass is an incredibly inefficient use of my valuable time, considering that Nemendias is literally hoarding power to gate me anywhere. I really wish she wasn’t such a magic-miser! I'm seriously considering going back to her core to poke her precious plaque if she won't make this job less cumbersome!”
“Is it wise to insult her more?” Agatha asked. “She seemed very miffed at your... wanton behavior.”
“She knows what she is,” I yawned. “Aren’t you at the top of your class, Aggie?”
“I am, what about it?” My companion raised an eyebrow.
“Nemmy can clearly manifest a body and talk to her students, yet she didn’t give a single moment of her time to her best student here for five years! She can drop books out of the sky on my head and yet she hasn’t provided you with a mobile library. What’s the point of this damn crest if Nemmy isn’t helping you do anything?” I pointed at the shiny, octagram pin on Agatha’s lapel.
“Nemendias has been helping me,” Agatha replied. “I can access numerous secret libraries, private study rooms, private bathrooms and magical archives that are sealed for 99% of the student population.”
“Yeah but that’s so… mundane,” I waved my hand angrily at her words. “This is a magical school. I expect magical perks! If I get a crest I expect a magical self-warming toast and cappuccino cup flying behind me, while a copy of myself is narrating my to-do list while I’m flying full-speed through transit gates on a hoverboard!”
“You have extraordinarily high expectations,” a dry, female, bothered voice cut into our conversation.
I lifted my eyes to see the avatar of Nemendias standing in front of us, her figure framed by lilac trees and rose bushes. I saw that a magical privacy, attention-redirecting bubble manifested itself around our group, cutting us off from the rest of the universe.
“Nemmy, you have extraordinary potential to do so much to uplift your students and yet you do so little,” I said, shaking my head, barely surprised by the sudden appearance of the Arcanarium’s avatar. “Why?”
“Energy is valuable,” Nemendias crossed her hands. “I don’t think you understand how much mana it takes to open a gate. I can’t just gate you all over whenever you demand it.”
“I can get my artificer friend to come and install a dragonheart battery or ten in your core-room,” I said. “You don’t have to gate everyone around. You could have at least gated me to your ghost and I’d already be done with it instead of this compass-quest bullshit. You aren’t using your resources effectively.”
“Oh and you would know better?” Nemendias asked, tilting her head. “You think you have an answer to every question?”
“I don’t have an answer to every question, I’m not freaking omniscient,” I shook my head. “But, if you provide me with a problem and a list of all of your available tools I can systematize them to solve it effectively. It’s called effective resource management. I understand that you’ve been mainly working with old archmage coots stuck in their ways, but I’m not like that. I’m not like most people from Andross.”
“You are indeed a curiously… determined soul,” Nemendias sighed.
“And you’re an irritatingly stubborn concept,” I huffed. “Please permit me to allocate your resources in a way that maximizes your efficiency.”
“Why should I trust you with my resources?” Nemendias tilted her head. “Who are you to demand anything of me, girl?”
“Alright, don’t trust me with your resources,” I huffed. “If you just listen to my advice you can make yourself more effective as an institution of learning.”
“Go on then, advise me,” Nemendias barked a dry laugh.
“Your teachers suck,” I said.
“You haven’t had a single class here,” the school’s avatar sneered.
“I don’t need to have class to tell you that they’re all incompetents,” I declared.
“My, my, so judgemental,” Nemmy shook her head. “If you haven’t learned a single thing from them how can you evaluate them so harshly?”
“I’m not evaluating them as instructors,” I said. “I’m evaluating them based on their human weaknesses and idiotic prejudices. In comparison to you, they’re all inferior.”
“Oh?” Nemendias tilted her head. “You would like me to teach classes instead of them? Is that where your line of logic is heading?”
“Obviously,” I said. “You don’t need to eat. You don’t need to sleep. You clearly don’t judge people based on their social status since you gave me a crest-piece for finding you. You don’t get tired or cranky. You can make copies of yourself. You’re six thousand years old. How can a human instructor even compare? If the city gives you enough power you can reduce classes all the way down to their most optimal value - personal instructors for everyone! You can personally teach each student, make every teenager here your apprentice, provide them classes that are fitting their talents best, motivate them 24/7!”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Nemendias cracked another laugh.
“You’re using yourself inefficiently,” I said. “Let me help you.”
“The rulers of this city would erase me if I reveal my existence to them,” Nemendias shook her head.
“You’ve revealed yourself to me,” I said.
“Because you were being incredibly vexing,” Nemendias sighed. “You were unmaking me with that damned artifact of yours. Lord Lamanche Innocentai poured his soul into that plaque when he laid my foundation. Had you pried it off the heartstone and shattered my anchor, I would have been undone.”
“Sorry about that,” I rubbed the back of my head. “I just... wanted to speak with you.”
“I’m not the first awakened avatar,” she said. “There have been many others over the six millennia. Gullible children of magic who have revealed themselves to humanity. Can you guess what happened to them?”
“They got erased?” I asked.
“Humanity saw them as a threat to their livelihood and they were destroyed, unmade,” Nemendias nodded. “The things you speak of - replacing teachers, revealing myself to the world would sign my death warrant. If I outshine even a single teacher here, what do you think they would do? Do you think that they would allow me, a magical being, to openly flaunt my superiority?”
“Magical constructs have no rights?” I mulled.
“Hexagrammatic wards have no rights,” Nemendias nodded. “What wizard in their right mind would allow a magical ward to outshine them, to take their job away? If I start gating you around or manifest books in your lap, someone will notice it sooner or later. They would ask themselves how a first year student is doing such incredibly complex magic. Where is she getting all of these books from? Etcetera. The Administrators would bring in Scrutimancy wizards, they would find my anchor just as you have, shatter it in twain and that would be that.”
“People of Earth feared artificial intelligence too,” I nodded. “They were terrified that it would take away their jobs. They came up with all sorts of rules and laws to bind and limit machines.”
“Oh?” Nemendias looked at me curiously.
“It obviously didn’t end well,” I looked up at the infinite, dead world in the sky overhead. “History is repeating itself.”
“People do make similar mistakes,” the avatar of the magical school nodded. “I wish I could aid you, but I cannot reveal myself to humanity. If I perish, I cannot help talented children like Agatha get into my secret librariums, cannot protect my students from harm.”
“So don’t,” I declared.
“Don’t?” Nemendias asked.
“Don’t reveal yourself,” I nodded. “Not until I can introduce and teach people to love magical constructs with my Dawn project.”
“Then I cannot help you with what you want,” Nemendias said. “Stop demanding whatever a hoverboard is from me.”
“I can figure out ways to work with such silly limitations, don’t worry,” I smiled.
“Oh?” The silver-headed woman looked at me curiously.
“You can be me,” I said.
“What?” Nemendias asked.
“Be me,” I affirmed. “I’m not afraid of magical constructs taking my work away from me. If anything I have so many jobs, so many things that require to be done that I barely have the time for anything. I’m rapidly ageing my chimera body, burning myself out, tearing my soul apart. My biggest enemy is time and you can help me overcome it!”
“Someone would notice that a copy of you is walking around,” Nemendias shook her head.
“So we coordinate it really well,” I offered. “For example, you can teach night classes in the catacombs instead of me, while I participate in them as a student named Grogtilda. I have a second body, remember? If anyone officially questions it, I can simply present it to them and tell them to screw off.”
“Hrrm,” Nemendias rubbed her chin thoughtfully.
“You don’t have to be just Archmage Yulia Ishenko,” I said. “You can be Grogtilda too, whenever I’m working on homework or personal projects inside of my Folding bag. You can be me whenever I’m exploring the catacombs or visiting my sister in Diamondias. You can hold study sessions, make friends with students, tell them about the history of Nemendias, teach them all sorts of interesting things about magic! It’s a win-win scenario. I get personal time to work on anything I need done in private and you get to be a social butterfly as a student!”
“You want me to be a student?” Nemendias blinked.
Her expression had changed from exasperated and annoyed to one of shock. She was completely and utterly stumped by my unexpected offer.
“Yes,” I nodded. “I want you to be me. I want you to spend time with your flock. Don’t be limited to your imaginary, self-imposed role. Don’t be isolated and bound!”
“But…” Nemendias mulled. “What if someone asks you a question about an event which I experienced?”
“I’m a very scatterbrained thirteen year old girl,” I shrugged. “Grogtilda had her brains sucked on by a Folding Seed for three months. Everyone knows this now, thanks to the newspaper articles. I doubt that anyone will question my slight quirkiness and inability to remember people’s faces or events at times.”
The avatar of the school looked pensive.
“Don’t be a miserable, lonely hermit, Nemmy,” I said. “There’s literally no reason for you to hide yourself in that musty, dark room deep in the catacombs. I’m giving you a chance to be as free as you want to be, to make as many friends as you want to and to have fun.”
“Friends?” Nemendias blinked. “You want me… to have fun?”
“Not just any kind of useless, unproductive fun, mind you. That sort of a thing would obviously go against your function. You can have educational fun. You can do all sorts of learning-style activities as me with the other students, open up various community clubs, take them on adventures through your halls!” I waved my arms excitedly. “There was a show that I used to watch as a kid called ‘The Magic School Bus’. You can be the embodiment of such a concept, be a quirky teacher in the body of a student! Be a genius, idiot savant that can do impossible, wacky things… because I can do impossible, wacky things. Day by day, week by week, year by year… we can crank up people’s perception of my skills and talents, until nobody even questions how weird, socially outgoing, helpful, clever and productive Grogtilda Lic Misem is!”
“I, um,” Emmy said blushing furiously. “You can be me whenever I’m studying in private too, Nemmy. I don’t mind.”
I looked at my bestie with a wide grin and then turned to Agatha. Agatha squinted back at me, then she glanced at Nemendias.
“You can be me too, if you wish… my Lady Nemendias,” she said after a deep pause. “As you know, I… uh… spend tons of time in your private rooms studying. I wouldn't mind if… um… you used that time to patrol the halls as a Crest-bearer or maybe gave first years lectures about safety or introductory magic on my behalf.”
I turned back to the avatar of Nemendias with a wide grin.
“There! That’s three students that you can impersonate,” I said. “Three people whose time you can utilize to be more!”
“You… three would do this for me?” Nemendias asked. She looked completely entranced, spellbound by my offer.
“We would,” I nodded. “Because we care for you, Nemmy. Because we understand how important it is for you to spend time with your children. You are alive, you are conscious, you have feelings and emotions just like we humans do. It's important for children studying here to make social connections to be happy, not just learn about magic. It’s important for you to make friends to grow, to be more.”
I could see that my words were finally having an effect on the reclusive avatar in front of me, that her self-imposed chains were about to come undone.
“This is just the beginning, just a single idea that will help you expand your facility over your own halls,” I stood up from the bench and stepped forward to the avatar of the most ancient Arcanarium on Andross. “A single, minute step that will help all of us steer the future away from disaster.”
Wide, glowing, silver eyes with magical coronas spiraling within them stared at me.
“Won’t you accept my friendship?” I offered Nemendias my hand.