Graduation

Eliot

  Eliot was running through a forest, shouting at Ellulia in her blue cloak and mask.

  “I’ll do it!” he told her. “I want to help you kill people.”

  “Really, you would do something so cruel?” she asked him.

  “What are you saying? I already told you how I feel,” Eliot said, confused. Ellulia looked down and slowly removed her mask.

  “Eliot…” her voice warped and when she lifted her head, it was Cel under the mask. “How could you?” he asked with tears in his eyes. Eliot’s eyes widened and he stepped back with shaking legs.

  “Cel? Why are you here? You weren’t supposed to know,” Eliot whispered in horror.

  “I wasn’t supposed to know!?” Cel exploded in anger. “Does that make it any better? You are a monster!” Eliot took another step back, bumping into someone's sturdy frame. Eliot turned in bewilderment to see Master Camble’s disappointed eyes.

  “I blame myself. I am sorry discipulus, I failed you,” Master Camble apologized in a broken voice.

  “No,” Eliot cried, shaking his head. “No, it isn’t your fault, I was born this way.” Eliot turned around again to see his family.

  “You are blaming us?” asked his parents, along with his sister.

  “No, that isn’t what I meant,” he pleaded, trying to run but knocking into someone else and falling on the ground.

  “You are a monster,” Henry and Penelope looked at him with contempt.

  “No, I-I’m not,” Eliot cried.

  “You are a monster!” they yelled at him. Eliot curled into a ball and puled, pressing against his ears with every fiber of muscle in his body, but their scathing words remained at full volume.

  Suddenly, a soft voice broke through the crowd, “It’s ok if you are a monster.” Eliot looked up, he knew that voice. He saw Ellulia with horns and red skin. Ellulia offered her hand.

  “You’re my little monster,” she whispered to him. Eliot slowly reached out with his own hand, but pulled it back in surprise. His skin was red. Eliot felt his head and touched horns.

  “Go on, show them what you really are,” Ellulia’s voice reverberated in his mind.

  Eliot woke up in a start, with tear streaks on his cheeks and glassy eyes. When he realized all of that was a nightmare, he let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyes. The sun shone pale rays through their window, perceptifying the dust and illuminating the room. Eliot slowly rolled out of bed, acknowledging his feelings was tiring.

  Eliot never denied he was a monster, he even encouraged that part of him from time to time. He would let the world know because he didn’t care who knew… until he did care. At first, it was just his family. He knew from a young age that he needed to hide that part of him from them, but he knew his parent’s and sister only wanted him to be happy, so he could manage. Once he met Cel, the first person he wanted to be around, he could hide it because his good side meshed so well with him. It started getting out of hand when he met Penelope and Henry. His inner adrenaline junky felt at home at the playful prince’s side, and Penelope appealed to his curiosity. She was fun to be around, knowledgeable, and sometimes a little rude, but a steadfast holy woman. Eliot's great at hiding that side of him, most of the time, but he always has the question in the back of his mind. What if they found out?

  Talking with Ellulia only made him fixate. Somehow, she meshed with all of him. She smiled at the monster the same way she did at the human. Because of that, he began to entertain the thought of letting everyone know who he was, what he was. Now, his brain couldn’t think about anything else, and it doesn’t help that the tournament was beyond boring. Kody’s team was the only one that even pressured Eliot’s team. As for the solo tournament, he could use his portals to get a hold of any mage, he sparred with Henry on a regular basis so he could easily deal with sword wielders, and his Martial Art was better than any other he came across.

  Even in light of that, Eliot was still looking forward to the day because today was graduation. Today was the day he would specialize and become an actual Mage.

  Eliot jumped out of bed, emotional turmoil behind him for now, to get ready. Henry was still asleep, but he didn’t need to be awake until the actual ceremony. Eliot double checked he was ready and portaled to the Room of Enlightenment.

  Eliot bowed with his monk salute before sitting down, across from Master Camble.

  “Why did you want to see me early today, Magister?” Eliot asked.

  “I want to discuss your future,” Master Camble answered. “The specialization ceremony is today and you still haven’t chosen a specialization, have you?” Eliot smiled sheepishly and shook his head.

  “I have it narrowed down to Magic Martialist, Shadow Mage, and Engraver,” Eliot added.

  “Are you sure those are the only three you have interest in?” Master Camble asked for confirmation. Eliot nodded. “In that case, choose Engraver.” Eliot noticed an inconsistancy, Master Camble was usually hands off for this sort of thing.

  “Why?” he asked with a tilted head.

  “When you live as long and important as I do, you learn a thing or two about other classes. The path to strength has more than one altering turns. Specialization has the least say in those alterations,” Master Camble shared.

  “I don’t understand,” said Eliot.

  “Have you heard of Demigods?” Master Camble asked him.

  “I have,” nodded Eliot, “However I don’t know much about them. I was present when one of them defended my town from an orc invasion.”

  “Good. The most difficult thing for people to understand is the unfathomable strength that a Demigod possesses. Having seen one in action, you should be aware that no matter how many mortals are gathered, a Demigod could massacre them without breaking a sweat,” Master Camble’s voice had an edge that made Eliot’s ears freeze. “Becoming a Demigod is one of those altering turns I mentioned. If you were to choose Shadow Mage as your specialization, it would be made redundant when you become a Demigods of Shadows,” Master Camble continued.

  “You think I can become a Demigod of Shadows?” Eliot asked hopefully.

  “With that grimoire and your talent? Of course. With Shadow Mage out, engraver is your only real choice. Magic Martialist is for beings who hold Martial Arts above magic and only learned because they were able. I know you don’t regard magic so,” Master Camble finished explaining. Eliot took a minute to think.

  “That all sounds logical, thank you for helping me decide. But, I still don't understand what you mean by an altering turn," said Eliot.

  "By altering turn I reffer to changes in your physical and spiritual bodies," Master Camble said as if it were obvious and Eliot should have pieced it together. Eliot always grew slightly annoyed whenever Master Camble did that.

  "Can you tell me more about Demigods?" Eliot asked, deflecting his anger with his thirst for knowledge.

  “To become a Demigod, you must comprehend the apocryphon of a law, an absolute truth of the world.”

  “What is an a-p-pocry...pho-n?” Eliot struggled to pronounce the foreign word.

  “Apocryphon roughly translates to the knowledge that cannot be taught,” said master Camble.

  “How does that work? If it can’t be taught, are you supposed to learn it through experience alone?” Eliot grew confused.

  “That’s exactly right. You have to learn the apocryphon through experience and epiphany. The more profound the law, the harder it is to learn the apocryphon,” Master Camble lectured.

  “Is there a difference if the law is more profound?” queried Eliot.

  “Of course, the more profound, the more powerful said law is. In general the tiers go as follows. Physical laws like elements are at the bottom, abstract laws such as knowledge and love are in the middle, and laws that explain how the universe works are at the top,” elucidated Master Camble.

  “Where would shadows go in that hierarchy?”

  “Shadow is a special law, in that no one knows where it fits. You could argue it to be in all three categories and no Demigod of Shadows has been recorded in the Crucible Empire,” Master Camble told him helplessly. An incense burning at the center of the table suddenly extinguished. “Ah, it appears our time is over.”

  “Thank you for the guidance,” Eliot bowed after standing up. Eliot made a portal and started walking through it when Master Camble said one last thing

  “Remember, Eliot, your final test is tomorrow. When you pass, I will tell the secret as to why your Martial Art was deemed sacrilegious,” Master Camble’s voice was menacing. Eliot could only imagine what horrors he would have to face for his final test and his blood boiled in anticipation of the challenge.

  Eliot found himself in his dorm room and started the cast for another portal, but canceled it after a moment. Eliot decided to walk to the auditorium. The auditorium was a giant room filled with tiers of seats, and with a stage at the front. There were ten tiers with fifteen seats in each row.

  When he arrived, Henry and Penelope called out to him. Since they were the top three scorers on the final exam, they were the last three to specialize and sat at the top right seats. Penelope and Eliot tied for one hundred percent, but Penelope sat in the second to last seat, giving Eliot the seat for the top scorer.

  “You didn’t use your portals?” Penelope asked him.

  “I felt like walking,” Eliot shrugged as he sat down.

  “Welcome students!” the HeadMaster’s voice boomed throughout the auditorium. He gave a great speech that Eliot zoned out, thinking about his situation. Eliot started paying attention when the first student stepped up to the stage for specialization.

  Specialization was done via specific actions, reffered to as a ceremony, once a mage reaches a certain threshold of strength. If a mage is below the required threshold and still attempts to specialize, they will most likely die. That was one of the main reasons Everveil Academy only lets their students specialize on graduation day. The other reason was, magic becomes too specialized to be taught on a wide scale after specialization. At its core, specialization alters your physical and spiritual bodies to be more apt in one school of magic. A Mage can always explore different schools of magic, and most do, however, their success and learning speed in that school is greatly limited.

  “Greetings, Cornelia Romach, what path are you to walk down?” asked the HeadMaster.

  “I chose Fire Mage!” she stated with resolve.

  “Excellent choice,” encouraged the HeadMaster. The HeadMaster whispered something to a support who ran behind the stage and came back with a glowing bottle. Eliot recognized what was in the bottle as soon as he got a good look, it was Spiritual Fire. The HeadMaster presented it to Cornelia and told her to swallow it. Eliot was taken aback, swallowing Spiritual Fire? That’s commiting suicide. Cornelia wasn’t phased, she grabbed the bottle and tipped her head back. Her screams of agony resounded in the auditorium. She began to glow in a peculiar way, her skin looked transparent and the fire was easily visible raging inside her body. Half a minute into the transformation, when she opened her mouth to scream, fire burst out like a pillar. Soon after, her eyes were replaced by flames, then the fire over took her, engulfing her in a bonfire. The fire burned silently on the stage, and slowly roasted the poor mage alive, the smell of burning skin wafting the room.

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  The students exchanged fearful murmurs and some shouted things at the supports to save her. Suddenly, the bonfire began shrinking and revealed a perfectly fine Cornelia, without so much as burnt clothing. She manipulated her mana outside of her aura. It was fire red and waved like a flame would as it formed a giant dragon and flew around the auditorium. The students were dazzled by the beautiful light show and gasped out acclamation.

  “Congratulations, you are now a Fire Mage!” the HeadMaster’s applause boomed. Cornelia soon returned to her seat and the next student took her place on the stage. Eliot watched the ceremonies with interest for the next three hours, wondering what trial he would face.

  Kody went a few places before them. He managed to score in the top ten despite being in class seven. That feat was made more amazing coupled with the information that no one from class six and below managed to make it in the top one hundred. Kody’s choice interested Eliot, he chose Inscriber.

  An inscriber was similar to an Engraver, they both turned magic into a physical state. However, Inscribers, not to be confused with Scribes, work solely with words of power. Words of power were words imbued with meaning via magic. Words of power have a high number of uses, far more than engravings do. An example Eliot was familiar with: grimoires were required to be written with words of power, otherwise, no matter how talented or amazing someone was, no one would be able to understand it. Inscribers also get access to an entirely different branch of magic called Chant Magic where they use words of power to cast spells instead of runes. All in all, Inscribers were able to do many things regular mages and Engravers cannot; they often overshadow Engravers in popularity because of this.

  Kody’s ceremony was a long three step process. He needed to imbue his mana into ink with a perfect success, write a Magic Scroll of an intermediate spell without it burning up, and use Chant Magic to cast a spell. Kody performed as Eliot expected him to, better than average. When Kody succeeded in specializing, his mana turned umber brown. It was supposed to be closer to peanut brown, but Eliot assumed it had to do with his tainted mana, and no one else seemed to notice the inconsistency.

  Soon enough, it was Henry’s turn.

  “Greetings, Henry Crucible! What path have you chosen?” asked the HeadMaster.

  “Mortal Savant!” Henry answered. Eliot couldn’t hear what the HeadMaster said next, but the crabbing face Henry made said it all. With no hesitation, Henry ran himself through with his sword. After he did, his sword exploded in lightning, burning and electrocuting Henry’s insides. That must be painful, thought Eliot in amusement. Soon enough, the hilt of Henry’s sword started melting into mana. Eliot was amazed, he searched his vast reservoir of knowledge, but couldn't think of any spell that could turn physical objects into mana. The sword melded with Henry’s mana and the hole in his stomach started healing. When it was filled, Henry smirked and showed off his royal gold mana. It spun around him magnificently and gathered around his right hand before turning into his sword. Henry played with his non Newtonian sword, winning over the crowd with his swordsmanship before he walked back and sat in his seat. Penelope was up next.

Confidenze oozed from her as she walked up on the stage, she was a natural in the lime light.

  “Greetings, Penelope Evergreen, what path have you chosen?”

  “Support Mage,” Penelope answered. Eliot’s interest was piqued, no else had chosen Support Mage, he looked forward to the ceremony. On the contrary, the HeadMaster’s expression turned distressed.

  “I must warn you that the ceremony for a Support Mage is much more dangerous than the rest. Do you still wish to continue?” he admonished.

  “It’s the will of Gaia,” Penelope responded. Eliot felt concerned, the other ceremonies were life threatening enough, what does much more dangerous mean? Three runners jumped on the stage and dumped bags full of Mana Crystals. The auditorium was silent in the confusion, letting Eliot hear the HeadMaster’s next words perfectly.

  “You will need to integrate foreign mana into your own and remove its personal qualities.” Eliot grinned giddily, if Penelope failed she would explode into so many little pieces not even the supports would be able to put her together. But he knew Penelope would succeed, he knew how skilled she was. Eliot was excited because he wanted to see exactly how she would do it.

  On the stage, Penelope was studying the hundreds of crystals in thought.

  “If you don’t wish to continue, you can choose a different path,”said the HeadMaster.

  Penelope shook her head, “I’m merely thinking of a strategy of attack.” Penelope gathered the hundreds of crystals in a pile and drew a ritual circle around them, then she made a Kinetic Martial Barrier around that. She stood above the ritual circle and cut her wrist with a sharp leaf. The cut was deep and painful, blood gushed from her wound, splashing on the crystals. At the same time, she manipulated her mana to follow suit. A massive amount of grey mana poured into the formation, making a chain reaction of bright explosions. The green barrier housing it all shown with power, containing hundreds of explosions, deafening in the acoustic auditorium. Suddenly, after a few minutes, the explosions stopped entirely, revealing a ball of hospital white mana. Penelope absorbed the ball, making a blinding white light bloom. When it receded, Penelope had white wings and a halo. Eliot laughed when he saw her, the wings and halo were made of her new mana she didn’t actually turn into some sort of angel. Penelope cleaned up her mess and flew back to her seat.

  Eliot made a mental note to always get a second opinion after seeing Penelope’s strategy of attack. Mana gets its personal quality because it passes through a Mage’s blood, and blood contains somewhere close to thirty percent of a being’s ego. That ego rubs off on the mana and it violently reacts with different strains of ego. What Eliot would have done is simply reroute his mana to exit his body without reacting with his blood, then he would purify the mana in the crystals of the ego and absorb it, giving him pure, egoless mana. Penelope did the exact opposite, she managed to mix her ego with rest and create mana with enough ego mixed together that it was close to purity and wouldn’t react with individual strains. Eliot also knew that it wasn't as simple as mixing everything together. Pure mana and pure ego also react violently, to make the type of mana Penelope did you would to mix a very case specifc percentage of mana and ego for them to mix harmoniously, with the margin of error being less than one percent.

  “Nice wings,” commented Eliot as he sat up. When Eliot commented on them, her wings and halo flowed over to Eliot and attached to him.

  “Complimenting your own wings, Eliot?” she asked with a smirk. Eliot rolled his eyes and made his way to the stage, only after Penelope recalled her mana, he was no angel.

  “Greetings, Eliot Relius, what path have you chosen?” asked the HeadMaster.

  “I choose Engraver!” Eliot announced, his voice thick with anticipation.

  “Good choice, to be an Engraver you must carve an engraving in your own body.” Eliot’s smile lessoned. That was it…? Henry had to stab himself, Penelope came close to death, and I only need to engrave on myself? Eliot thought in disappointment.

  Eliot was disappointed only because of his skewed sense of progression. He started making spells into engravings early in his career as a Mage, while most other Mages would only start to engrave a small amount of time before they specialized. Engraving was a grueling and complicated process that Eliot had grown used to after countless hours of practice most Mages didn’t have at the time they specialized.

  To Engrave a spell, the engraver needed to condense the runes of said spell into a small area. They couldn’t condense randomly because, when activated, mana needed to flow from rune to rune as if it was being regularly cast in spell format, as they were created from right to left. At the same time, no one knows why, but engravings tend to be more powerful and efficient if the engraving looks pleasant or forms a picture. On top of that, the engraver needed to make absolutely no mistakes, not even half a centimeter off mark or else the engraving will take more mana to compensate, and won’t even work if the amount or severity of the mistakes is enough. Engraving was even more complicated in practice because any specific situation could have an impact on how the engraver should engrave to get the best results. A common example: most people weren’t mages, meaning they couldn’t manipulate their own mana to power the rune. Therefore, the engraving needed to incorporate a method of transferring the user’s mana from the mana to the engraving.

  “I can use any tool, correct?” Eliot clarified.

  “Correct,” confirmed the HeadMaster. Eliot scratched his head and created a small portal. He reached inside and grabbed a half full bottle of ink he previously imbued with mana and a magic quill. Eliot sat down on the stage and entered deep thought. The question he was mulling over so seriously: what spell should he engrave?

  On this magical Earth, tattoos weren’t permanent, they could be erased by any manner of magic. Unfortunately, engravings were permanent and practically unbreakable. After Eliot finished engraving, he would live with that engraving for the rest of his life, unless he cut off his hand, which was an option since a support could regrow it, but Eliot wasn’t keen for that course of action. On the bright side, Eliot could use it to block attacks that would normally injure him without any repercussions, like a shield that fused with his skin.

  Eliot decided after a solid ten minutes and got to work. He drew on the back of his right hand, using his dominant left hand to draw. Fortunately, he was able to erase any mistakes he made because the ink was imbued with his mana, so he had a certain level of control over it. Time flew by as Eliot immersed himself in his craft. The students grew restless, they wanted to hurry out and try their new abilities, but were helplessly forced to wait forty minutes until Eliot was done.

  Eliot couldn’t wipe a giant grin off his face as he admired his handy work. On top of making no mistakes, he managed to make the engraving into the figure of a god. He loosely based it off of Ellulia as he remembered her in the square, near the cherry blossom tree. Beautiful and graceful on such a level that the world itself gathered around them. But he mostly made it based on how he imagined that mysterious god that helped him save Ellulia would look. The engraving was extremely detailed, but the figure was left ambiguous with no facial features and a gender neutral body. The figure had a blazing halo and wrist breakingly detailed wings. The whole picture was slanted just enough so the viewer could tell they were looking up to the figure. The figure was dressed in a holy robe a priest might wear, with an embroidered scarf that reached down to their knees. Behind the figure were thin lines connected together in vague shapes. To top it all off, the whole picture was shadowed so well that Eliot could almost see light radiating from it despite it being all drawn in pitch black ink.

  When he came out of his flow, Eliot noticed a perceptible but unintelligible change in himself. His body felt different beyond his mana changing color, as if it was fortified and enhanced in everything it was trying to do. All of this made Eliot feel utterly elated. Eliot stood up and brushed off his legs, the crowd perked up at his sudden movement. With a smirk, Eliot manipulated his mana in a tidal wave of rainbow around him. His mana shifted colors each second it was observed, making it look like it was moving when it was still. Each color matched a certain school of magic for whatever tasks he needed his mana to fulfil. The students exploded in cantankerous, but fair, complaints. Everyone else had to go through something excruciating and mind bending, but Eliot, tied for top scorer, went through a ceremony that bored them to death.

  “Everyone calm down,” yelled the HeadMaster over the students’ ruckus. “Every Mage’s path is different. Engraving is brutally difficult, don’t underestimate it because it looks plain!” The students still grumbled, but stopped yelling. Eliot laughed at his situation as he walked back to his seat and showed off his engraving to his fans, Henry and Penelope. They admired it in shock, they had seen other impressive engravings Eliot had made, but none were as sublime as this one.

  “Why a god?” asked Penelope. Eliot raised his brow.

  “How did you know it was a god?” Eliot asked back.

  “It looks obvious,” Henry answered, stroking Eliot’s ego even more.

  “So, why a god? You have never shown interest in the gods before,” Penelope repeated. Eliot shrugged, even he wasn’t sure why he chose a god.

  “I suppose I wanted something beautiful and this is where my mind went,” Eliot answered.

  “It’s decided, you're going to be the royal Engraver, whether you agree or not,” Henry joked. Eliot and Penelope chuckled before giving their attention to the HeadMaster.

  “I offer you all one last congratulations, you are now graduate of the Arcane Academy of Everveil!,” the HeadMaster finished giving another speech before releasing them.

  Eliot, Penelope, and Henry walked out of the auditorium feeling wistful. They have good times at this school and they wouldn’t spend nearly as much time together from now on.

  “Our times here have been marvelous, but now is the time to look towards the future!” said Henry. He had been trying to improve his motivational speech in preparation for being king, usually failing miserably. This time though, Eliot and Penelope smiled.

  “So… what are your plans for the future?” Eliot asked.

  “I need to prove myself worthy of the throne. I’ll have to start by winning the nobles over, they hate me at the moment,” said Henry. Eliot looked to Penelope.

  “I’m unsure, but I have Gaia as my guide,” said Penelope, as pious as ever. “What about you?” Eliot took a moment to think.

  “I’m going back to my town and starting a Mage’s guild,” Eliot provided.

  “You’re still on about that?” Henry asked. Eliot mentioned his plans a year ago, but he hadn’t brought them up much since then. Eliot flashed a fanatical smile.

  “Of course, one day my Town of Flora will be as glorious as the Metropolis!” Eliot half joked.

  As they finished the conversation, they neared the gates. They all moved out of the dorms yesterday thanks to Eliot’s portals and only slept there last night, so this was the last time they were likely to ever step foot on school grounds.

  “Until we meet again,” Eliot bade goodbye with a smile.

  “Until we meet again,” Henry and Penelope repeated before slowly walking away.

  Eliot walked the way to his new living space. It was a long walk, the sun was near set by the time he entered the old church. Eliot wasn’t actually all that sad, he knew how life was and didn’t care much for rumination of the past or melancholy. Instead, he was lost in the transition. What am I supposed to do now? he asked himself. Eliot’s sense of direction was out of whack. He did want to establish a Mage’s Guild in the Town of Flora, but what else?

  Eliot moved the heavy door and let it rumble shut behind him. Varkus was in one of his monthly, week long sleeps, so he was alone in the comfortable catacomb. Eliot walked through to his room. Eliot had three essential pieces of furniture, a bed, desk, and bookshelf, he didn’t need or want anything else. His floor and furnature was littered with stacks of books and other small piles of miscellanoues things like his ink and quill.

  Eliot stopped in his doorway and took in the treasure trove. Like he located the north star in the heavens, his sense of direction was restored. That’s right, Eliot thought, his permanent, sly smile restored. I am going to be the most knowledgeable oracle in history! Eliot laughed at himself and got to work sorting his things.