The hum of the HGF Expanse was ever-present, a constant thrumming beneath the metal floors that you learned to tune out. To some, it was the heartbeat of the airship. To others, just white noise. But to Artillery Mage Venera Osiris, it was the sound of potential. The dizzyingly large airship, once a battleship, was now the home to learning and adventure.
“Focus, class. Magic isn't about feeling power—it's about control.”
Venara's voice rang through the classroom, pulling the attention of her students away from their rune-scribed notebooks and scattered spell components. She stood at the front of the classroom, a transparent wall of reinforced glass behind her, showing the ever expanding view of the cloudy blue sky behind her.
In front of her, a diverse group of students shifted uncomfortably, most of them visibly struggling with the basic spellwork. An elf student’s fingertips sparked with raw energy as she tried to form a basic containment spell, while a dwarf in the back muttered curses under his breath, his hands trembling as his spell fizzled out.
“Makael” Venera shouted causing the dwarf to stir
“Y-yes professor?” the Dwarf sitting at the back of class shot up out his chair stammering
“Why did your spell fail?”
“I..don't know professor, it just failed” Makael said scratching his puffy black beard in embarrassment.
“You don't know?” Venera asked innocently, “May I tell you why it failed?”
“O-of course, professor!” Makael shouted, causing the student sitting in front him to cover her ears and glare back at him.
“Your spell failed because you struggled to visualize the spell. This goes for all of you. When performing a spell you cannot lose the image of whatever you are conjuring. The moment you get distracted a spell can blow up in your face. Understood?”
“Yes professor” the class answered in unison.
“Alright let's try again after a lunch break, I'll see you all here in an hour” Venera stated as she eyed the mechanical clock at the back of the room. Some of the students groaned while others got excited. Venera just smirked as she exited the classroom.
She walked through one of the countless corridors of the HGF Expanse, her footsteps ringing on the metal floor, echoing in the expanse of the ship’s passageways. As she approached her private quarters, she wasn’t exactly surprised to find Abel leaning casually by her door.
“Oh, Venera! How goes your first day as a teacher?” Abel asked, a sly grin tugging at her lips. The younger Beastkin woman’s fox-like ears twitched, and her tail swished behind her, giving away her amusement.
Venera shot her a mild glare before sighing, her expression softening. “It’s…going. Some of them show promise. Unlike a certain fox I know. But I don’t have another class to compare them to, so who knows?”
Abel clutched her chest in mock injury. “Ouch. I feel so attacked, oh wise and mighty teacher. They’re probably like any other group of first-years—plenty of talent, plenty of blunders. Are any of them giving you trouble, my long-eared friend?”
“None so far,” Venera replied, though her tone was thoughtful. “But there is one. A human girl. I watched her deliberately fail a simple light spell. Canceled it halfway through, on purpose.”
Abel’s eyebrows lifted. “Deliberate, huh? Most first-years can barely create a light spell at all.”
Venera nodded, her brows furrowing. “Exactly. It takes skill to halt a spell mid-cast like that. It’s like she’s holding back.” She looked away, considering. The girl had seemed unremarkable at first—until that slip. Just a flicker, a momentary hesitation, but enough to raise questions.
“Hm. Odd,” Abel mused, scratching one of her fox-like ears in thought. But after a moment, she shrugged, the curiosity passing as quickly as it had come. “Oh well, not my problem! I have to get back to engineering. I’ll catch you this evening.” With a casual wave, she turned and strode down the corridor, her tail swishing lazily behind her.
Venera gave a half-hearted wave, then checked her watch. Then her door. Then her watch again. With a sigh that echoed softly down the hall, she turned back toward her classroom.
“No lunch for me today…damn ship is too big” she muttered to herself.
Fifteen minutes later Venera was standing outside the door to her classroom, she could hear the chatter from the students inside, she glanced down at her watch.
“2 minutes….” Venera whispered before taking a deep breath. “Ok remember i'm a teacher, the morning went fine, so will the afternoon. I can do thi…”
“Miss Osiris?” A female voice chimed in from behind Verena causing her to jump out of her skin.
“Whoa!- oh um Candace right? Do you need something?” Venera asked her cheeks heating up in embarrassment
“I need to get into the classroom,” Candace replied flatly.
“Right class is starting, let's head in!” Verena almost shouted. The human girl gave her an odd look but Verena just tried to ignore it as she entered the class room. Canadce made her way to her seat as Venera stood at the front of the class.
“All right, class,” Venera began, her voice steady as she looked over her students. “This morning, I had each of you attempt any Tier 1 spell of your choice. Nearly all of you failed, each for different reasons.” She let the words hang in the air for a moment, watching their faces shift with slight embarrassment and resignation. “So, for the next few days, we’ll be focusing on basic spell theory. That means both practical exercises and theoretical lectures. I want you prepared.”
A murmur ran through the room, tinged with mild disappointment but softened by understanding. Most seemed to accept the news, even if a few looked like they’d hoped to skip straight to the more exciting parts of magic.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Today,” Venera continued, drawing a steadying breath, “we’ll begin with a brief overview of the history and fundamentals of mana. I’ll answer any questions you have along the way. Does that sound fair?”
“Yes, Professor,” the class responded in unison, a mix of voices blending into one.
“Good. To start us off—can anyone tell me about the origin of mana and magic? Where did it come from, and when was it first discovered?” Venera’s gaze swept the room, but the question was met with fidgeting and downward glances. A few looked at each other, hoping someone else would answer first.
Finally, a shy hand rose at the back of the room. Venera’s relief was immediate. “Yes, Sylvia?” she said, offering an encouraging nod.
A young lizard Beastkin girl stood up, her pale white scales taking on a faint pinkish hue as she spoke. “I’m…not sure if this is correct, but wasn’t there an ancient nomadic tribe that discovered mana on the northern plateau?”
Venera smiled, her tone softening as she addressed the class. “You’re mostly right, Sylvia. Mana was indeed discovered on the northern plateau, and a nomadic tribe was involved. But the discovery itself was an accident, made by a lone traveler. The story goes that a man from the Great Sands came into contact with the tribe. He was trying to create medicine for their elderly when he stumbled upon a spring infused with mana. The medicine he brewed using the spring’s water worked miracles, healing the sick and elderly faster than anyone had ever seen.
“When he returned from the plateau, he told everyone he knew, sparking curiosity and prompting researchers to investigate. That’s how the existence of mana was formally discovered.” Venera paused, letting the tale settle.
A quick glance around the room revealed some glazed-over eyes and a few disinterested stares. Venera resisted the urge to sigh and pressed on. “Can anyone tell me when magic was first introduced as a weapon in military conflicts?”
That caught some attention. A few students straightened, and a spark of interest flickered in their expressions—mostly among the boys.
Before she could even scan the room, Makael shot to his feet, practically vibrating with eagerness. “It was the Battle of Monarch!” he blurted, voice brimming with pride. “The Oswain Empire created a division of mages to rain fire down on the Himlasian troops, forcing the Himlasian Army to retreat and cede the city of Monarch!”
“Correct, Makael,” Venera replied, her tone approving. “Now, can you tell me when the battle took place?”
The confident grin on the dwarf’s face faltered as he scratched his beard, hesitating. “Uh… wasn’t it the year 210? Maybe?”
“Not quite,” Venera said, her lips curling into a smile. “It was actually 217, but you were close. I’ll give you that.”
A few chuckles rippled through the room as Makael sank back into his chair. His proud expression had all but disappeared, replaced with a sheepish frown. Venera pretended not to notice, shifting her focus back to the rest of the class. She had to keep them engaged—and Makael would bounce back soon enough.
The rest of the class passed in a similar rhythm. Venera would pose a question, and the students would answer—if they could. More often than not, she had to coax responses out of them. Some mumbled tentative guesses, others stared blankly until she offered an explanation. It wasn’t ideal, but Venera chalked it up to first-day jitters. The students didn’t know her yet, and she wasn’t exactly brimming with confidence in her new role. That would come with time. Hopefully.
As the lesson wound down, Venera glanced out the large glass window behind her. The sky beyond was painted with the orange and gold hues of the setting sun. It was as good a time as any to end the day.
“All right, everyone, that’s it for today,” she said, motioning toward the horizon with a casual wave. “As you can see, the sun is starting to set behind me. We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow.”
Chairs scraped against the floor as students began packing up their things and shuffling toward the door. Venera was just about to exhale in relief when a hand shot up from the front row.
“Yes, Candace?” she asked, her tone curious.
“I was just wondering,” Candace said, her voice flat as ever, “what type of magic you specialize in, Professor.”
The question stopped the exodus in its tracks. Several students paused mid-step, glancing back with renewed interest. Whispers rippled through the room, and more than a few eyes were suddenly on her.
“My magic?” Venera said, caught off guard. She scratched the back of her head, trying to downplay the sudden spotlight. “It’s nothing special, really. Just… normal offensive magic.”
She winced inwardly at her own answer, but the students didn’t seem to notice. The quiet murmurs grew louder—a mix of awe and curiosity. To them, any magic was a marvel, even if it was as simple as a fireball. But Candace? The human girl sighed audibly, her shoulders slumping as if the whole exchange had been a waste of her time. Without a word, she got up and walked out of the classroom.
Venera’s gaze lingered on her retreating figure, that odd feeling about the girl gnawing at her once more. There was something there—an edge, a secret, or perhaps just defiance—but whatever it was, Candace wasn’t about to share it willingly.
The rest of the students trickled out one by one, and soon the classroom was empty. Venera waited until the last of them had gone before packing her own bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she moved to the door, reaching for the handle when a voice rang out from the back of the room.
“Not a bad first day, Venera Osiros.”
She froze and whirled around, her heart skipping a beat. Standing at the back of the classroom, leaning casually on a gnarled wooden staff, was an elderly man. His long white beard brushed the front of his robe, and his wide-brimmed hat, complete with an absurdly pointy top, added to the image of a storybook wizard.
“August, you…” she said, narrowing her eyes.
“Ah-ah!” the old man interrupted, wagging a finger with a grin that was far too cheerful. “Call me by my title while we’re at work. I am your employer, after all. “Professor””
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Venera replied, crossing her arms. “I never would’ve taken this job if Abel had mentioned “you” were running this ship.”
August sighed theatrically, but his smile didn’t falter for a second.
“And let’s not forget,” Venera continued, “I still see you as the spoiled little brat I met by chance seventy years ago.”
“Seventy-three,” August corrected, looking far too pleased with himself. “But who’s counting?”
“I’m leaving if you’ve got nothing important to say,” Venera replied flatly, crossing her arms and fixing August with a pointed look.
“Fine, fine,” August said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “No more stalling.” His playful demeanor melted away, replaced by a rare seriousness that made Venera pause. “Venera, I hate to bring this up, but… why did you decide to become a teacher? You went into hiding for decades. Then, out of nowhere, you show up and want to teach magic? It doesn’t add up. And don’t tell me it’s just because Abel recommended it.”
The question hit her harder than she cared to admit. Her arms uncrossed, and her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Why had she taken this job? For decades, her life had been simple, solitary. A small cabin deep in the woods, far from prying eyes. She’d convinced herself she was content with the isolation. And yet… here she was, standing in a classroom, pretending to be a teacher.
She didn’t have an answer—not one she liked, anyway.
August, ever perceptive, seemed to read her silence like an open book. He sighed heavily, stroking his long white beard as if the gesture might soothe some unseen burden.
“Venera,” he said gently, “I’m glad you’re here. Truly. But I have to warn you. Himlasia hasn’t forgotten. There are still powerful people who remember what happened that day—people who don't care how much time has passed. If they find out you’re on this airship…” He let the sentence trail off, his meaning clear.
“So please,” he continued, meeting her gaze, “be careful. And try not to bring too much trouble to my airship.”
Venera stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she turned toward the door, gripping the handle tightly. “Trouble finds me whether I want it to or not....but I'll try” she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to August. With that, she pushed the door open and walked out, leaving the old man alone with his thoughts.