She was a bit ruffled from the train encounter. Note to self, do not mess with that Celeste chick. Whatever “spell” she had cast was the mundane equivalent of a M4 Sherman battle tank, or something equivalent, Maggie’s only source of military information was her father who like all fathers had some weird obsession with World War 2. In any case she had sent those goons to the shadow realm Exodia style. And her bedraggled appearance would aid her in her next goal, which was to formally withdraw from this hellhole.
It took a while for the headmaster to see her. She wasn’t surprised, this was induction day and the man had loads to do, but she was able, through sheer persistence, to corner the man. She was invited into his office, which was a lot more modest than she assumed it would be based on what she knew about these head wizard types. There was of course the classical wooden desk before him, what appeared to be a workbench littered with papers, and what she assumed was some sort of alchemical setup, and behind him a miniature hut sitting on a pedestal with a fat frog sticking out of the front door. It looked at her and licked its eye. Cool.
For such a busy man, he did not seem to be in a rush. He reviewed some notes in a folder, made some harrumphs, and some nods and then settled the folder down after his alchemical set started to whistle and scream.
“Tea?” he offered.
Maggie instinctively swallowed, feeling the dryness of her throat. “No thank you.”
“So… you want to withdraw?” Headmaster Mugwart stated. He waddled back to his desk, tendrils of steam rising from his piping hot cup of tea and retook his place behind his desk.
“Yes,” Maggie agreed. “In light of recent events I just don’t think I’m a good fit for this institution.”
Mugwart stroked his bushy white beard, eyeing the documents in the manila folder in front of him. “It says here that you passed your entrance exams with flying colors. Your public-school records are without a blemish. Student exhibits an aptitude for herbology, alchemy and inscriptions; By these accounts you seem like a prime candidate for our school.”
Maggie was, of course, eyeing documents of her own. “Have you seen the newspaper today, sir?”
Mugwart waived a dismissive hand. “I must confess I have not. So much fake news and misinformation I’ve lost all stock in the media.”
Maggie placed the newspaper before him, “Page one, dark wizard,” she flipped the page over, “page two, demonic cult, and here,” she said, flipping another page. “Page three, young prodigy of illustrious school for magical arts missing after attack on school by dark coven.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Mugwart cocked an eyebrow at her. “And?”
“And… to top it off even on the train ride here I was almost murdered? I don’t want to spend the rest of my life struggling against power hungry maniacs?” Maggie answered.
“Ms. Rainbolt, life is a struggle. Whether it be mundane problems or magical ones. Studying in magical arts is a path to power, and it does draw in those who would use that power for ill. But they are no more atrocious than the billionaire mundanes who pay their workers slave wages and keep them in poverty. To struggle is to be alive. You cannot run away from adversity.”
Watch me, she thought. Maggie pointed to the banner hanging behind Mugwart. It depicted a Dragon sitting atop a horde of books with words written on several spines of the books. “Courage, Honor, Integrity, Commitment, Discipline… I don’t even need to finish that list to know that I’m not cut out for this.”
Mugwart released a long-suffering sigh before taking a sip of his tea. He made that sucking sound that people make when they bite into a too hot slice of pizza to cool it. “What is it you plan on doing if not attending our school and developing your abilities? Is there some mundane institution that has drawn your eye? Chemistry or Chemical Engineering perhaps, given your record?”
Maggie shrugged, “My parents sold their home in New York, but we still have some family land on the west coast. I suppose I’ll go there.” Maggie smiled broadly and added “Maybe I’ll become a hedge witch.”
At this revelation Mugwart spit his tea all over his desk. “You intend on practicing magic unsupervised?”
“Well, just the basics. Enough to get by really, maybe earn a little money for myself. I of course won’t be delving into any of the more advanced spells, formations, or incantations.”
“Well, I would certainly hope not,” Mugwart harrumphed. “But I can see your mind is set on this course of action, and since you are withdrawing before the start of the actual year we won’t hold this against you. Should you decide, you can always re-enroll next year.” And with that Mugwart slammed a stamp down on the papers in front of him. “You are dismissed.”
Before she rose Maggie asked tentatively, “would it be alright if I used the Ley Station?”
Mugwart stroked his beard in mock consideration, “my my, the Ley Station is for students and staff and as of this moment you have withdrawn your enrollment… But I suppose I could delay filing this paperwork for a few more hours.”
Hell yes. If she could access the Ley Station at the school, she could save herself days or even weeks riding on a train out west. “Please, professor. I would be in your debt.”
“No need for all of that. But, if you do change your mind about attending school, please consider us first. I do think someone with your talents could do quite well here.”
Maggie agreed, why would she not consider them. Even though she didn’t care to attend the school, it was still one of the highest rated institutions in the United States. Sure, you might find more prestigious, older schools across the lake, but age and prestige didn’t always mean better.