Magic Academy

Osric sits across from the envoy in the carriage. Watching Elayne's head jostle as she rests it against the wall, asleep.

The carriage stops.

The envoy opens the door.

As Osric’s eyes adjust, they settle upon the wide, sprawling, red-brick school. The center building, with a more triangular, shingled roof, connects to two flat-topped wings stretching off in either direction.

“Sage! welcome to Sagian Magic Academy.” A man with short-cropped gray hair and a gray goatee, dressed in a black suit, greets him, standing beside the tall brick wall at the perimeter of the schoolyard. “I’m the headmaster of the school, Grayson."

“Elayne, get up!” Osric nudges her gently.

Her head lifts slowly..

Osric steps out of the carriage, guiding the drowsy Elayne down.

“I’ll take your things to your new place,” the envoy says, shutting the carriage door as it rolls away.

“Nice to meet you, Grayson. I’m Osric Han... the new Sage. This is my assistant.” He shakes Grayson’s hand.

“Nice to meet you both. Come, I’ll give you a tour of the school.” The headmaster inserts a key into the lock of the tall metal fence. With a screeching clatter, he pulls the gate open.

He leads Elayne and Osric down the brick walkway.

“If you look to your left, you can see the Dormitories.” The headmaster points across the courtyard to a building small in comparison to the main school. The structure is square, with four rows of windows above a large wooden double door. “But you won’t be staying there. We’ve arranged a house for you not far down the road.”

“We're not staying in the dorms?” Osric asks.

“They’re full. We’re housing some refugees from the Trading Province of Aurelith.”

“Aurelith… don’t you guys hate that place?”

“These refugees have taken a holy oath to renounce all affiliation with Aurelith. As the Holy Scripture explains, we are to help those in need who have proven themselves not wicked,” the headmaster explains, ushering them down the covered walkway in front of the right wing.

“What’s happening in Aurelith?”

“Have you not heard? A revolution has just broken out.” The headmaster looks back with a raised eyebrow.

“What? Really?”

>>>

“And so the Academy offers magical instruction starting at age of eight,” the headmaster explains.

After an hour of touring the school, he brings them down a long hallway, orange sunlight streaming through the large windows on the right side, casting light onto the classroom doors on the left.

He stops in front of a door. “There’s actually class happening right now on magic theory. I think this would be a good class to sit in on.”

“You want me to attend the class right now?” Osric asks.

“Yes, I’m sure the students and the teacher would love to hear the new Sage’s input on magic theory.”

“Are there any classes about literacy my assistant could attend?” Osric adds.

Elaine scoffs behind him.

“You mentioned your assistant needs to learn the basics, yes? We have no such class being held right now, but perhaps a more intermediate one?”

“Sure.” Osric responds.

Elaine scoffs again.

He whips his head around and mouths the words: "Be good."

“Right this way, madam.” The headmaster breezes past, and Elayne reluctantly follows.

Osric steps into the classroom. In front of him is a wooden stage, complete with a podium and a chalkboard at the back. A teacher, similarly dressed to the headmaster, stands there, his slicked-back brown hair and mustache gleaming in the light of the golden chandelier above.

Osric’s eyes travel leftward. What he sees reminds him of a college lecture hall: two rows of tiered wooden desks, mostly filled with older teenagers, each student wearing a light-red jacket over a white dress shirt.

One student catches his eye — a girl in the top row with long blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight streaming through the window she sits next to. She wears a peculiar set of glasses, the frames and dark lenses making him pause. Is she wearing sunglasses… inside?

“Oh, you must be the new Sage. The Headmaster said you might attend.” The teacher walks toward him, placing a hand on his back and leading him to the stage.

“Class, the King has yet to make an official decree, but he has confirmed that this is the new Sage, and he wishes to attend this Magic Academy with us. Please treat him with the utmost respect.”

The students murmur and gasp, staring at Osric with wide eyes.

I hate this. Why are they all staring at me? It’s like college all over again. Osric swallows, trying to moisten his dry mouth — it doesn’t help.

“Go ahead and take any seat you like,” the teacher gestures to the desks.

Osric begrudgingly makes his way up the rows. The students’ murmurings getting louder as he passes.

“Is that really him?” A girl with blonde hair scoffs to his right.

“So the legend is true,” a boy’s voice rings out to his left.

“Look at his red eyes! Just like the prophecy.”

Osric glances right again. A beautiful girl sitting near the stairs gawks at him. She has long brown hair reaching down to her light-red skirt,  and sparkling crystal-blue eyes.

Osric flicks his gaze at her… and then back again. Man, she’s so hot.

She grabs his hand as she passes by.

“Do you want to sit next to me?” she asks.

“Agatha! Leave the Sage alone!” the teacher shouts.

She lets go of his hand, frowning.

He reaches the last row of seats, settling in the far right corner, as distant from the other students as possible.

Maybe this isn’t so bad. He stares at his hand, turning it over, then brings it up to sniff.

“Right, let’s get back to the lecture.” The teacher turns to the chalkboard, scribbling something. “You know what? Let’s start from the beginning for the Sage in the back.”

He erases what he wrote and begins again. Grumbling erupts from the students.

“Magic is divided into the four elements: fire, water, air, and earth. There are two categories of spells: offensive and defensive. Defensive spells are quite simple. Each element can form a wall or a dome for protection — the dome spell being more advanced — but offensive spells are more complicated. Most mages specialize in one element, as it takes a lifetime to master…”

>>>

The professor prattles on endlessly.

Yeah, I know all this already! Osric complains internally, resting the side of his head on the long desk.

“…the ‘divine wisdom.’ The beginning of all incantations symbolizes humans’ respect and gratitude to the Grand Sage for bestowing the blessing of holy knowledge. Then, ‘guide this gale’ tells the mana to transform into wind. It is not fully understood, but theorists believe that once mana is expelled into the palm or the tip of a staff, it must be spoken to in order to communicate which element it will transform into. And finally, the ending signifies which wind spell is being used. This part varies from spell to spell.”

Osric perks up. Now that’s something I didn’t know. They should cut that "divine wisdom" part out, though — shortening cast time is everything.

“The incantation specifies the element and spell, but never the size. Magic theorists are torn on this — some believe it’s necessary to alter or create new incantations. So you could specify the size of a fireball, for instance, while others say changing the incantation is blasphemous. I tend to agree,” the professor continues.

“You can already change the size of your spell,” Osric blurts out.

Osric watches as every teenage head in the classroom turns toward him. Why did I have to say anything?

“And how is that possible, Mister Sage?” the professor asks.

“The amount of mana channeled into your hand determines the spell’s size… I feel like everyone would have figured that out."

“I am intrigued. Could you demonstrate this for us?” the professor points to the stage.

“I guess.” Osric steps down, passing the curious students.

“Let’s say you’re casting a water ball,” Osric steps onto the stage “You channel mana into your hand, then start the incantation: ‘Divine wisdom, drown thy enemies, aqua—”

An orb of water forms in his hand as he continues. “Finishing the incantation is what makes the spell fire. I can pause here and channel even more mana so that once I say the final part, I will end up shooting a much larger ball of water. The spell continues until the mana flow stops or I finish the incantation.”

The orb grows — twice his height… then three times.

Impressed “ooohs” fill the room.

“So you can pause the incantation to channel more mana…” the professor trails off.

“You can also shorten the incantation by removing the ‘divine wisdom’ part."

The professor grabs his arm. The water orb disappears, dissolving into multicolored sparkles that vanish into the air.

Osric steps back, confused. What happened to my spell?

“Not honoring the divine beings who gave us this power is blasphemous! The ‘divine wisdom’ must always be spoken,” the professor hisses.

Students murmur in confusion.

The professor releases his arm and steps back. “Thank you for the demonstration, Mister Sage. You may return to your seat.”

Osric trudges to the back, wondering what he did wrong.

“Now then, where were we?” the professor resumes, as Osric settles back down in the corner.

>>>

After more explanations of concepts, Osric already knows, he rests his head on the desk, growing tired. He starts to close his eyes.

He hears a rustling next to him.

Perking up, he sees the blonde girl with the “sunglasses” has sat beside him.