Zeek rubbed his hands over the high-quality robe Sirius had bought him. The material was light and breathable but framed his figure well—the result of visiting an expert tailor. He was assured that, no matter how hard he practiced, his sweat would wick off the side, keeping him dry. Zeek planned on testing that claim today when he attended the opening ceremony.
The past week had been useful but too short. He glanced at the book a final time before tying his bootlaces.
Progress:
Mana Tier 5
Task List:
1. Hope you figure this one out. Learn the circulation technique and hide your mana level before the opening ceremony. (Complete)
2. Discover the truth behind the Captain of the Order of War Magic
3. Rend the sky with lightning! Burn the forests with flame! Summon the ocean depths with your will! Become a war mage candidate!
Pending Reward:
1. Mana Ball Technique upon reaching Journeyman Tier 1
The task had finished when he was able to walk at a normal pace and hide his mana tier for half a day. Less than Zeek expected, but he wouldn’t complain. It meant he had a chance to survive the day. The lack of any new tasks made him worry too; it was like the book wanted him to focus on the ceremony and nothing else.
Even after finishing the task yesterday, he’d spent the evening throwing questions at the book, hoping something would explain what the danger was. The best he got was a repeated message about “divinity detected” or “see the Orthan family.” He wondered if the book couldn’t tell him something, or if it didn’t know.
Which made him worry even more. He couldn’t help but personify the thing, which reacted to words and deeds as if it was controlled by a living being. In each instance, it tried to help Zeek grow, even if he couldn’t see the connection at first. Silence was the worst reply of all—it meant he was on his own.
At least he was used to that.
He still hadn’t told anyone about the book. Penny was suspicious there was something he wasn’t telling her. She’d catch him alone from time to time and ask more questions about how he was growing so strong and fast so quickly with seemingly little effort. Or how he’d really unlocked his mana. But he just shrugged her off and deflected with jokes.
He didn’t want to get her involved.
Archi was another option, but he was an old man with a family he loved. Zeek wasn’t about to march trouble into the old mage’s quiet life, it would just be selfish. He’d mentioned the name Orthan to Sirius, who was shockingly knowledgeable about old magic families, but he didn’t know it. He offered to ask his father, but Zeek told him not to bother. He realized after he’d asked that it was a mistake, not that Turgi had done anything to make him cautious.
He just didn’t trust him.
The one benefit of getting better at controlling circulation was idle hands. Zeek spent several days in the library reading and copying books. He started with the section on the Lost Age, then moved to families with similar names to Orthan. When he wanted time to think, he’d wander around the shelves copying anything on magic that looked remotely interesting. The Book of Spite was becoming a massive encyclopedia of general magical knowledge.
There was too much for him to go through it all quickly. He’d asked for a few pages in the book to create a subject reading list which he planned to skim over once school started. Then he copied all the first-year textbooks; cheating on tests was going to be a cinch.
Zeek shook his head. These thoughts were just a distraction. Penny stepped into the hall at the same moment.
“Are you ok? You look a bit pale,” she said.
He was, in fact, pale. Intentionally pale since he’d decided to restrict his mana until he returned from the ceremony and was hunkered safely in his room. It would only be two or three hours if all the speakers droned on, so he had plenty of leeway to maintain the state.
“Training a lot. Feeling a bit under the weather today,” he said.
“Maybe you should go to the infirmary.”
“I’ll be fine, this won’t take too long,” he replied. Penny nodded with a frown as she walked beside him down the stairs. He held the railing and took each step carefully, splitting his attention between his surroundings and the mana circulating slowly inside. It was harder today, he thought. His nerves were making his mana tremble ever so slightly as they left the dormitory and walked towards the classroom building.
Most of the new recruits were there early, leaving him and Penny alone while they wove through campus. They’d been silent since leaving the dormitory, but Zeek could feel Penny watching him. It was that neighborly concern people in Hake loved to show each other, like everyone was surrogate parents of the other children. He hadn’t experienced it before, just observed. It didn’t bring him any comfort now.
“Penny, if something were to happen to me here…there’s a bag of gold in my room hidden under the bed. Send it home to Granny for me. And say something nice to her, tell her I said it,” he said suddenly, while watching his feet.
“You didn’t try pranking someone at the ceremony, did you? Is one of the professors already out to kill you?” she asked seriously.
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Zeek chuckled, which made him look even more nervous, and winked at her. “Not that I remember.”
Penny’s frown grew more pronounced as she watched him. They were steps from the building now.
“You can tell me if something’s wrong, you know,“ she said.
Zeek just grinned feebly at her and opened the door, entering an ornately decorated hall and following the signs for the auditorium. Most seats were filled so they took a spot in the back, near the doors.
If not for the pressure, Zeek would have been gawking at the giant room. It seated two or three hundred, with wooden benches arranged in the center and two aisles leading towards a raised stage in the front. Long red curtains flowed down from the sides and a black screen stood behind. A row of chairs and a podium were empty on the stage.
Above them were a line of private boxes with chairs for important people and their entourages. Zeek didn’t recognize most of them, but their clothing looked expensive and ornate. Each had a servant bustling to and from the back with refreshments. He did see Turgi and his wife looking around the auditorium from a box. His eyes met the earl’s briefly and he nodded. Turgi smiled back. Sirius was sitting next to his father, waving furiously like he’d spotted his only friends.
A bell echoed from the stage, signaling the beginning of the ceremony.
Zeek gripped the book in his pocket for comfort, but it suddenly changed into a long ribbon of paper that slithered into his sleeve and wrapped around his torso. He felt a bit of pressure on his chest, which helped him calm his nerves a bit. He muttered a quiet “thank you” as a group of people entered the stage.
The leader was dressed in rust-colored robes with a golden symbol on his chest, two green gems encrusted over the shield. It was easy to see he was the headmaster; he looked like one of the paintings in the hall came to life and stepped off the canvas. His long, draping white hair framed a wrinkled face that made Granny look like a young lady. The hands sticking out from his robe barely had any meat on them, as if only bones filled with magic inhabited the cloth. His glasses were so wide he looked like an owl with beaded eyes sunken into a sleepless face.
Behind him were professors of various ages, all with scholarly airs. If mages had a festival, this would be the costume contest. Some were unkempt, some had exchanged their rust-colored robes for off-kilter hues, some had monocles, some had glasses made of metal or wood, some carried staves, some wore bizarre hats straight out of a story.
The last person in line looked like a plaza statue become human. A bald man with an ageless face and a kind smile hiding below sharp eyes. He wore a flowing white robe with the symbol of the goddess embroidered on his chest, a circle with triangles rotating around it, a symbol of the sun. In his hand was a staff shaped like a shepherd’s crook but polished enough to appear metallic, and on his head was a rounded cap with three pastel yellow lines circling the rim.
Zeek realized his knuckles were turning white as he squeezed his legs. Penny patted him gently on the arm, as if to say “calm down.” The crowd clapped enthusiastically as the group took their seats and the headmaster stood behind the podium.
“Good morning! Let me begin by welcoming back the returning students. Those of you entering your third year are nearly done, and as long as you study hard and practice diligently, an illustrious career is almost upon you.
“For those rising second years, you’re now the experienced mages. Maintain your performance, counsel our new friends, and set your sights high. It won’t be long before you’re sitting in the front row, looking at the finish line.” The first two-thirds of the auditorium clapped and hollered loudly, a few of the professors on stage waving at students they knew. The headmaster raised his arms and waved for the crowd to calm down, revealing his skeletal limbs.
“To the new students, let me be the first to formally welcome you to the Numeran Academy of Magic. My name is Herbert Austan, Headmaster of this fine school. While we’ve just met, you’ll all have a chance to speak with me once the semester begins. One of the great pleasures of such an elite school is our ability to offer personalized training to ambitious mages.”
The headmaster went on to describe the types of classes they’d be taking, hinting at the school’s plans to unlock everyone’s mana. All the nice promises were couched in hints of service to the kingdom. But he followed any harshness with promises of high pay, lavish lifestyles, respect, and prestige. It was a good speech, Zeek thought, and clearly one the headmaster gave regularly.
He summarized the details about what would happen next: attending classes, training with tutors, and searching for an affinity. The people around Zeek nodded along as the headmaster laid out the first year’s general structure. It only took a half hour till he began to wrap up, but that was when the trouble began.
“As is customary, we want to welcome all of you to the school as colleagues and family. We have a little event planned for such an occasion, which many alumni look back on fondly.” From his robe he pulled a crystal orb, just larger than a human hand, and held it up. The advanced students cheered.
“This is a device we’ve used since the school’s founding. Some even claim it existed in the Lost Age.” He winked with exaggeration as the faculty chuckled on cue. “Each of the new students will come up here and place their hands on the orb.” The ball suddenly began to glow brightly.
“If a mage touches the sphere, it illuminates. Just like the test all of you took when we came to your homes. We will announce your names to the school, and you will henceforth be known as Mages of Numera.” Zeek nearly choked and lost control of his mana. His eyes flickered around, making sure no one noticed him.
“But before the festivities, I’d like to cede the stage to our honored guest, Archbishop Fent.” The headmaster waved at the crowd once more, amid cheers, and motioned for the archbishop to come forward. They shook hands briefly and exchanged whispers before the headmaster took his seat near the professors.
“It warms the soul to see how many mages the Goddess blessed us with this year. Twenty of you were found and brought to the heart of our kingdom. An auspicious number, I’m certain. Chapter 1, Verse 20 of the Book of Light states:
I am the shepherd of souls, the giver of life, the guardian of birth, the salt of the earth, and the repose of the weak. All who heed my call shall prosper and be protected by my light. For in Light, there can be no darkness.”
Zeek noticed many people placed their hands over their hearts and bowed their heads as the man spoke. It was a typical way to conclude prayers; he’d seen the priests in Hake do the same. It made his stomach knot, but he didn’t know why.
The archbishop continued: “Just as the Goddess has called me to the church, you have been called by her to protect this great kingdom. While I may be the Goddess’s gentle hand, you will be her fist. When you come for service between difficult classes, look around and remember the people there are relying on you to maintain this wonderful peace we enjoy.
“And…as we rely on you, please rely on us. The church has always maintained a close relationship with the Academy of Magic. Many of you will take up joint tasks with clergy. For every war mage who delves into monster-infested woods, a clergy will be there to heal your wounds. For every building that needs enchanted, or crop that needs nurtured with magic, the clergy will be there to assist.”
Zeek could see irreverent looks on many of the mages’ faces; it wasn’t surprising, really. Most people, even in Hake, were very religious. Lem was no exception, filled cheek by jowl with pilgrims coming to visit the cathedral.
“Now, I won’t take any more of your time. You’ll hear me speak plenty at regular services, so take this time and rejoice. For mages are born in the Kingdom of Numera. May the Light guide you.”
Then the headmaster handed the orb to the archbishop and began calling names.