Mystery was overrated.
“Did you see it coming?” Hildebrand asked the miscreant. “How did you dodge it?”
They met once again, minutes later in the field behind the academy’s main hall. Despite walking off at a brisk pace, he hadn’t made it very far, and even looked tired from the short walk.
He cringed upon seeing Hildebrand. He took a deep breath before answering. “Got lucky,” he said.
“Erika,” Hildebrand whispered. “Hit him again.”
“Let him off,” she whispered back. “It’s his lucky day.”
“He was unlucky the moment he crossed us,” Hildebrand whispered back.
“Us?” Erika asked.
Hildebrand stepped back to stare at the traitor. She had forgotten the aristocracy was even more rife with backstabbing than the slums. Erika simply shook her head.
“No,” she said, like an owner to a pet dog. “No more hitting.”
Hildebrand tried to resist it, but she played the part of the whining dog. When she was done whining and pouting, she placed her face in her palm. She could feel her immature brain steering her decisions in the dumbest directions. Hildebrand wasn’t an adult anymore, not that she was ever particularly wise and mature; she was a teen again. I have to be aware of that, she told herself.
“Fine!” Hildebrand relented. It was a meager step towards conquering her immaturity.
“Thank God,” muttered the miscreant, shaking his head. Hildebrand could tell he rolled his eyes without even seeing them.
“Hey,” Hildebrand called.
“Hay’s for horses,” he said.
“You,” she said, pointing. “What’s your name?” she asked.
He quietly groaned through closed lips. “It’s Adolph,” he said. “But just call me Dolph.” He glanced at her out of the side of his eye. “Don’t call me Adolph,” he reiterated.
“Next time,” she muttered to herself. I’ll get you, Adolph, she thought. It wasn’t immaturity this time. Being vengeful was simply in Hildebrand’s nature.
Erika broke Hildebrand out of her stormy scheming with a nudge. Once, then twice. “I’m Erika,” Erika said, introducing herself. She gave Hilde another nudge before saying, “And this is Hilde.”
Dolph glanced back with a lull in his eyes. Hildebrand couldn’t tell if it was disinterest or something else. “Yeah,” he said. She could’ve sworn his permanent scowl had curled ever so slightly into a smile.
When the motley crew finally made it to the range, to the magic class, they found a spectacle. Once again Roy Garland was taking center stage, this time arguing with the magic arts instructor, a tall, voluptuous woman veiled in black occult, who could only be called a witch.
"Wear something appropriate you-! You indecent woman!" shouted Roy. "You're leading young minds astray!"
He was trying to restrain her with a coat he was attempting to wrap around the woman’s bare shoulders. In Roy’s defense, even Hildebrand found Sasha’s long, slitted black dress was inappropriate for a teacher. Unfortunately for him, witches were just an unusual bunch. While they were generally accepted in contemporary society, or even respected in some circles, some of their lifestyle choices were far from the mainstream. They could even be called perverts.
"Get off! I won't wear it!" Sasha whined, pushing her hand, pipe and all, into his face. She managed to knock the long coat away onto the ground.
Roy took a deep breath. "Lord, give me patience! Deliver me from these workers of iniquity!" he yelled in exasperation, shaking his fist towards the air. It might have almost sounded like a prayer, if it wasn’t for the fact he was essentially insulting Sasha.
"What's going on here…" Hildebrand asked to the blonde miscreant, Dolph.
He stared back at her with his beady eyes, like he was looking at an idiot. Like he was looking at the golden-haired girl, Priscilla. “How would I know?” he asked.
Hildebrand tugged on Erika’s sleeve.
“Hold on!” Dolph said, putting his hands up defensively.
“No,” Erika said. “You can’t just use violence when you get annoyed.”
Hildebrand groaned. “But this is a good cause,” she whined.
“That’s how tyrants think,” Erika said.
“I’m not a tyrant!” Hildebrand said.
"You back there," Sasha said, pointing her pipe at Hildebrand and her company. "Pipe down!"
Roy, finally having gotten Sasha to hang the coat over her shoulders, chuckled. "Clever girl," he remarked.
"Did you like that one?" Sasha asked, adding a giggle at the end. In her husky, raspy voice, the cutesy giggle was off-putting.
“Gross,” Hildebrand murmured, sticking out her tongue. The gesture caught Roy’s attention. His head snapped to Hildebrand like a machine. How can you even see? Hildebrand wondered about his narrow, seemingly shut eyes.
“Today, we'll be going over the basics of magic. I'm sure many of you are already familiar with it, so we're going to jump right into it,” Sasha said. “The basics are better felt and seen than heard in words.”
The witch waved the end of her pipe in the air, tracing a circle. She pointed the glowing white end of her pipe at a distant target and, with a quick thrust, fired off a smoky ball of frost. Upon impact, the ball burst into a glacier, encasing the target in a spiky mass of clear ice that had the slightest tinge of blue. Sasha twirled the pipe around her fingers before sticking the end back into her mouth and inhaling. She exhaled a chilly breeze that felt more like a freezing blizzard wind.
"It's that simple. Now that you've seen it and felt the Vitale I just sent out, you should be able to understand it, right?"
Dolph raised his hand. "Miss Sasha, I didn't quite understand."
He got some dirty glares from some of the other students. Not just the looks people gave idiots, but hateful gazes. There were even murmurs insulting him. But he seemed not to care.
"What don't you get?" Sasha asked, her brows furrowing with concern.
The blonde grunted. "Everything."
Sasha looked exasperated, even though she explained nothing. Hildebrand knew her to be a flighty woman who shirked her responsibilities yet had high expectations of others. The worst part about her was her lack of patience, even though she expected patience from others.
“Why don’t you get it?” she asked. “It’s very simple.”
That comment seemed to stab Anya, who suddenly stood out like an iceberg in the sea of faces. She glanced back at Dolph with mixed emotions, but chief among them, sympathy. But hesitation undercut it. She took one step to turn in his direction, but two steps to turn away.
"I'll help you!" said a young dandy, emerging from the crowd. He stepped out and towards Dolph, checking his gold cufflinks and straightening his shirt collar.
There were more murmurs. This time asking, “Is he really going to help that scum?”
Hildebrand’s eyes scanned the loose gathering of students for Priscilla and her group. Had news of Dolph’s horrible words to her already spread like wildfire? Probably not. Although Priscilla and her hound shot hateful glances Dolph’s way, their entourage seemed quiet, and the duo kept their mouths shut as well. At least, until the golden-haired girl noticed Hildebrand staring. Then she mouthed something. “You bitch,” Hildebrand guessed. Hildebrand stuck her tongue out in return, which prompted more angry mouthing off. Hildebrand had a good guess what her blathering was, “Blah blah blah.”
Hildebrand smirked and rolled her eyes until they landed back on the young man who offered to help Dolph.
"Thank you, Wolfgang, was it?" Sasha asked.
"Yes!" the blue-haired dandy answered, standing before Dolph, Hildebrand, and Erika. “Wolfgang, at your service!” He crossed his arm over his stomach and gave a theater bow. He twirled his hands and produced a blue flower to match his hair. He offered it to Hildebrand.
She looked at it suspiciously, and then up at Wolfgang. She pointed to herself, as if to ask, “Me?”
He nodded.
She shook her head.
Wolfgang’s forced smile was stiff and growing stiffer. It looked painful. “Haha,” he chuckled. “Please,” he said, his smile faltering. “Take it.”
Hildebrand relented, moving to grab it. The moment her fingers touched the stem, the flower burst into a swarm of fluttering wings that flew into Hildebrand’s face.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Uwah!” she yelped, stumbling backwards. She felt herself falling, her arms flailing, her vision turning to the sky. A hand grasping her arm slowed her fall, but steady arms caught her safely from behind.
She was looking up someone’s nose.
“Hairy,” she observed.
Hugo looked down. “We meet again,” he said. His displeasure was written all over his face, but his frown summed it up.
He helped Hildebrand stand.
“Hugo,” she said.
“Hello Hilde,” he sighed. He shielded his nose with his fingers. “I hope you’re not thinking of breaking my nose this time. Or worse.”
“I was thinking of plucking your nose hairs,” she said.
The edges of his lips curled ever so slightly. “Dear Altamea, I can’t tell if you’re serious or not,” he said.
“I’m not a wild animal,” she said, smiling. She tapped his side.
He groaned, holding it gingerly. “Really?” he groaned. “You certainly have the strength of one.”
“Sorry!” she shouted.
Before she could touch him again, Hugo put a hand up. “That’s close enough,” he said.
“Sorry,” she whispered again.
He sighed again. “I’m fine, just sore,” he said. “The priest did a fine job healing me.” When Hildebrand moved her hand, he flinched. “But please,” he said, giving a tense smile. “Let’s keep our hands to ourselves. I will. So, please do so as well.”
“Yes,” Hildebrand said, smiling awkwardly. Hugo’s unfriendly smile changed slightly, mirroring Hildebrand’s. It was uneasy, but the corners of his eyes pinched ever so slightly.
“At least until you learn to control your… strength,” he said.
“I’m really not that strong,” Hildebrand said.
Hugo raised a brow high and pressed his lips into a thin line, as if she had told him an outrageous lie. He shut his eyes and shook his head a few times. He turned to Wolfgang. “And you, I suggest you keep your tricks to yourself,” Hugo said. “Unless you want to be in a world of pain. Just some friendly advice.”
Wolfgang’s face shrank with concern. And he nodded quietly, turning to Dolph instead. “Come on,” he said.
Greg placed a hand on Hugo’s shoulder from behind. “I hope you’re not making friends with that brutish fellow,” Greg said, eyeing Dolph, who shot back with his permanent scowl before walking away with Wolfgang.
“No,” Hugo said, “no, of course not. I’m just speaking with Hilde.”
Greg looked at Hilde and gave a nod. “I’m Gregorius,” he said. “Pleased to m-meet—” He was stuck mid-nod, his eyes glued to Hildebrand’s chest.
Hugo lifted Greg’s chin with a finger. “Careful, Gregorius,” he said, side-eying his friend. “You’d be wise to look disaster in the face, not elsewhere.”
Hildebrand scoffed, and she smirked. At least some things were the same.
“Ahem! I apologize,” Greg said. He brushed his lofty hair back while stealing the most obvious glance in the history of mankind. His cheeks turned a rosy red as he locked eyes with Hildebrand. “I simply didn’t know where to place my eyes,” he said, focusing on Hildebrand’s blind eye.
“Is it that scary?” she asked, covering her eye. “I should’ve worn my eyepatch.”
It was mostly in jest, but Greg blurted out, “No!” waving his hands wildly. “Not at all! I—I!” His stammer turned into a stutter, like a broken record player.
“Oh Gregorius! Whatever will I do with you!” Hugo said, putting him in a headlock from the side. “Seems we’re the animals,” he said to Hildebrand. “Come on,” he said to Greg, “Let’s go.”
“Yes, yes,” Greg said, tapping on Hugo’s arm.
Before Hildebrand could stop them, to introduce Erika, Hugo put a hand up, then waved. “We won’t take up any more of your precious time,” he said. And he bowed himself and Greg away, walking away at a brisk pace. Hildebrand simply waved at their backs.
When she turned back to Dolph and Wolfgang, Erika was with them, listening to Wolfgang’s lecture about magic. It wasn’t going well.
“What’s vitale?” Dolph asked. The question confused Hildebrand.
“You’ve never learned anything about magic?” Wolfgang asked. “I figured you might be a noble.” So did Hildebrand, despite Dolph’s strangeness. Most noble children were at least taught the basics of magic.
“It’s complicated,” Dolph said.
“Not a problem! Vitale, my simple friend,” Wolfgang said, “is the essence of magic! Everyone and everything has it! Even the air!” With a flourish, he dispensed a wand from his sleeve and swirled it around in the air in a pattern that matched the twists and curling knots in the wooden instrument. The air lit up with sparkling lights.
“That’s Vitale?” Dolph asked, rubbing his chin.
“Yes! That’s right!” Wolfgang said. He was lying. It was something that couldn’t be seen, only sensed, if one was sensitive enough. Wolfgang tapped his wand against Dolph’s chest, and sparks flew from Dolph’s body. “You see,” Wolfgang said. “You have it too.” It was just a trick, a magic trick.
Dolph and Erika both gasped quietly, as if they were seeing magic for the first time.
“It’s the most basic component of a spell,” Wolfgang said. “It’s the latent energy all things possess. Like potential. We use it to compose spells.”
“I get it,” Dolph said. “I’m just used to calling it something different.”
“Ah! So, you have learned about magic!” Wolfgang said. “Then this next part should be easy!” He swirled his wand in the air again, forming a swirling ball of fire. It followed the tip of his wand as he moved it around. “This is Fireball,” Wolfgang said. “It’s an elementary spell.”
“As in the element, fire?” Erika asked.
“Yes,” Wolfgang. “And also elementary, my dear novice.”
“It’s easy to make that?” Dolph asked, his brow rising with doubt.
“Of course! Anyone can make it,” he said. “Everyone has the ability to use magic! It’s as simple as using your imagination!”
He wasn’t lying, at least not entirely. Everyone could use magic at some basic level, but it wasn’t just as simple as having a lively imagination. Imaging was only half the equation. Magic also involved mental calculations through space. Like arithmetic, anyone could do the basics in their head, but there was a tremendous divide between the average and the talented. There was a massive difference between an ordinary person who could reason 2+2 equaled 4 and someone who could instantly calculate derivatives in a single thought. It was an innate unfairness in creation—the circumstances of one’s blood.
Hildebrand palmed her face. She had talent for magic, but none for math. She was already dreading math class just thinking about it, even though she was second only to Anya on exams in her past life. She could hardly remember a thing. But at least it was possible for an average person to become readily proficient in math; she wasn’t sure if that was possible with magic.
“I got it,” Dolph said. “Don’t need a wand, right?”
“No, I suppose not,” Wolfgang said. “But it’s best—”
The ball of fire swirling to life in Dolph’s hand silenced Wolfgang.
Wolfgang cleared his throat. “Now,” he said, pointing his wand at a target down the range. “Just imagine that you’re sending the fireball flying!” Wolfgang said, flicking his wand forward like a sword. The fireball launched from the tip of his wand with some fiery flare. It wasn’t just for show. Having a flashy imagination helped the effectiveness of the spell, the speed, namely. Wolfgang’s fireball flew far and fast, hitting the target. The ball exploded into a small yet explosive blaze. But it was only the nearest of the targets.
“Wow,” Dolph and Erika said.
“Magic is pretty complicated, huh?” Erika said.
“Not at all,” Wolfgang said. “Let me show you again. It usually helps to shape the spell first.” He formed another fireball at the tip of his wand. “This step is called Formation,” he said. “Next, imbue it with additional properties.” The fireball started spinning. “That’s called Attribution!”
“Then you cast it, give it life!” He launched the swirling fireball, but this time it traveled in a curved path. “This is called Animation.”
“Finally, the finale!” Wolfgang said. The curveball exploded into a swirling fire that resembled a blossoming flower, garnering some mild applause from the student body. Wolfgang took another bow. “I like to call it the Gestalt. When everything comes together! I call it FAA—”
Dolph put his hand up, almost pushing it into Wolfgang’s face. Dolph snickered, trying to fight a smile. But his lips pulled back into a grin. He was on the verge of laughing aloud.
“What’s wrong?” Wolfgang asked.
“Uhh,” Dolph muttered, pulling down on his face. “I just think Gestalt sounds silly.”
“Really?” Wolfgang asked. His disappointment was palpable.
“How do you spell ‘gassalt’?” Erika asked.
“It’s ‘gestalt’,” Hildebrand said. She spelled it out for Erika.
“Well, most people would call the last step the Result, I suppose,” Wolfgang said. “But it’s boring… Isn’t it?”
“No,” Dolph said. He shrugged. “Sounds fine to me. F-A-A-R, right? It’s easy to remember.”
“I suppose so…” Wolfgang muttered. “Yes, FAAR.”
That wasn’t quite right. Wolfgang had left out a step, the Invocation, the calling of the name. It should have been FAAIR.
“Anyhow, did that all make sense?” Wolfgang asked. His flare had waned.
Erika nodded cluelessly. “I get it, I get it,” she said.
But Dolph’s beady blue eyes concentrated on the fireball swirling in his palm. He held his hand out and narrowed his eyes, aiming at the furthest target on the field. “Yeah, I’m thinking it made sense,” he said.
There was laughter and jeering from onlookers, calls of “loser” and “scum.” But the miscreant didn’t pay those words any mind; that was a mistake. There was a reason fire remained a staple in spells through the ages. Of all the things humans could think to conjure, fire responded most strongly to intense emotions. Mankind had a long and storied history with fire from which the magic gained its strength. If “fire” could be called by another name, it would be "passion."
But Dolph was dispassionate. He launched the fireball, and it flew fast, but not very far. It fizzled out before it could reach the target.
The laughter intensified, so did the calls of “loser”.
Erika’s raucous clapping almost drowned out the verbal attacks, and Hildebrand joined in to help her. But it didn’t work.
“Wasn’t very good,” Dolph said, shrugging. “But I get the general idea.” His shoulders slumped, like the jeering was weighing them down. His hands slid into his pockets, like anchors keeping his arms from drifting down any further.
Hildebrand felt bad for him. But I can hardly tell him to get angry about it, she thought. She didn’t know why he received such hate; she didn’t even know he existed at all in her past life, and she didn’t know what he did wrong in this life. Maybe he deserved it, or maybe he didn’t. Either way, she didn’t want to tell him to lend his ear to the overwhelming contempt. That was as good as telling him to suffer, even if it could have fueled his magic.
“Let me try,” Erika said, patting Dolph’s shoulder. She raised both hands and closed her eyes in concentration. All she managed to conjure up was a ball the size of a tangerine.
“You should call the name,” Hildebrand advised.
Erika nodded. “F-Fireball!” When she cast it, it only flew a few meters before being blown away by a breeze.
“Haha,” she laughed, despite the jeers and insults now targeting her. “Guess I don’t have any talent for magic.” Somehow, she had been grouped in with Dolph. Whatever negative reputation he had fell upon Erika too, for standing too close to him, for not hating him.
The laughter and jeers began to settle. Teens only had so much attention to give. But that wouldn’t do.
Hildebrand furrowed her brows and grit her teeth. She snatched Wolfgang’s wand, saying, “Let me borrow this!” She wouldn’t let her newly formed social circle be labeled incompetent on the first day, even if it meant showing up Dolph and Erika. Their egos would have to suffer a little more, so their social standing wouldn’t. More importantly, however, Hildebrand needed somewhere to waste all her newfound “passion.”
“Watch this!” she announced to everyone. A raging fire formed at the tip of the wand; it even threatened to burn the tip off, much to Wolfgang’s shock. Hildebrand fed all her annoyance and anger and future satisfaction into the fire, growing it larger and lighting it brighter. She fed it all of her own suffering, and all of the suffering she had caused. It burned a glowing blue, even brighter than the sun.
She yelled, “Fireball!”. With its name spoken and heard by many, it grew stronger and faster as it flew, turning into a blazing blue blur. It scorched the ground beneath it as it flew. It hit the furthest target down the range without a sound, turning the round wooden board into ash without even touching it. Then it exploded like an erupting geyser, sending chunks of earth flying up into the air.
Hildebrand smirked smugly, tossing the smoldering wand back to Wolfgang, who couldn’t peel his astonished gaze away from the erupting fire down range. Even Erika and Dolph were speechless.
Hildebrand turned her sharp gaze onto the student body, staring them down. They had no words. Hildebrand placed her hands on her hips and closed her eyes, basking in the stunned silence of the student body and the blue light of her magic.
She chuckled with humming laughter.
Until someone shouted, “Watch out!”
“Hmm?” Hildebrand muttered, opening her eyes. She turned back and looked around. She glanced up, and then over at Sasha, who was too busy flirting with Roy to do anything about the giant pile of mud or turf or whatever the hell it was flying just meters away from Hildebrand’s face. Hopefully, it wasn’t stone. Hildebrand closed her eyes, still smirking, and accepted her fate.