Strategy Meeting & Sweets

Libarius and Gracia walk into the cafe. They’re greeted by a young waitress.

“Welcome! Good afternoon. Sit wherever’s open.”

The two of them sit at the table nearest to the door. As they sit, Libarius begins to talk in his unmoved voice.

“A word of warning before anything begins, we are being monitored.” Gracia is caught wholly off-guard.

“Huh? Mr. Mitis, what do you—” Libarius interjects before she can ask the question.

“Do not call me that. I have done nothing to earn the honor.”

“No, I can’t… I mean, you’re more experienced than me, and I’m like a subordinate, so…”

“Nay, I believe you have judged me improperly. There is little gap in our practical experience if any, if I were to wager a guess. I have been locked away for years, having done nothing but my research. Though I am not familiar with the ways of a true disciple, I imagine you too have done more studying than anything else. Indeed, we are both but nascent sprouts ourselves, and there ought to be no hierarchy between us, for in that case we are as partners rather than anything else.”

“That can’t be right. I mean, I’m just eighteen, that’s barely enough to be considered a mature mage.”

“No, it seems my wager was properly placed. We are the same age.”

“But… Then why would you have become a full teacher?”

“I won’t even bother to venture a guess as to their motives. This role was thrust upon me ‘gainst my will, another obstacle to bar my way to conducting my research.”

“But weren’t you already researching before this?”

The waitress appears and hands them each a small menu. Gracia looks over it somewhat lazily, her mind still on Libarius. Libarius, meanwhile, holds it close, as though it requires his full attention. Even as he does so, he answers her.

“Nay, I only spoke as such in my failure to find a more suitable phrase. To call that research would be to call the vagitus cries of an infant song. I lack the capacity to cast spells with my own power, and as such I can only see the full result of my work in the rare instance I have an assistant at hand. S—” He clears his throat as he corrects himself. “Father, though a powerful mage, lacks the formal schooling required to articulate the minutiae of magic I seek. Indeed, unless I fulfill the task assigned to me, I will always be in short supply of proper assistants and my research will never be complete.”

“Ah, right… your curse… sorry. It really does seem terrible.”

“It truly is. There is no greater joy in life than to cast magic freely. To lose such a power is the death of the soul; to rob one of it a sin worse than murder.”

“Well, I’m not sure about that. At the very least, I’m sure the Major General is pleased that you’re still alive. But I hope you can find a way to break the curse soon. And if there’s any way I—”

“Indeed there is, Gracia. Become my arms.”

“Pardon?”

“Cast my spells for me, if truly you are wise enough to be considered as my adjunct, then certainly you have skill enough to fulfill my needs. Further, my curse has weakened in part. If a spell is cast before me I can repeat it. All that you must do is cast my spells so I can cast them myself, or if I make them too lengthy, simply cast them in my place.” Gracia is overwhelmed.

“I’ll… try my best.”

The waitress returns and they place their orders. Gracia returns to her initial question, having forgotten it until now.

“Hold on. Libarius, what do you mean by ‘we’re being monitored?’”

“It’s a simple matter. Father ordered one of the maids in service to him to enter the cafe and watch over me, as if I were some raving hooligan on the brink of some grave offense.”

“I see.”

“Now then, onto the matter at hand. Let us discuss our strategy for the next year.” Gracia had forgotten.

“Ah, that’s right! Well, first we should make sure we’re on the same page about what we’re doing.”

“Indeed. As I have only recently received my task and only recently arrived in the city, I know nothing of the details. Apprise me, Gracia.”

“Alright. I believe we’ve been assigned to the lowest ranked class of the third year of the upper-level students.”

“Gracia, explain in greater detail what that means.”

“Huh? Are you not familiar with the Magic Institute?”

The waitress returns and sets everything on the table. Gracia takes a small cup as it’s set down, leaving the rest for Libarius. The waitress sets down a cream dessert, a small cup with several colors of ice cream, and a slice of cake topped with assorted candied fruits. Libarius starts eating them without a word. Though they had only met a short while ago, Libarius’ expression had not changed once the whole time they had been together. However, his features soften slightly as he eats, leaving a slight smile in the corners of his mouth.

“Indeed. I was born with no other path but to pursue magic further, left no option but to remain cloistered, and any topic beyond my research failed to hold my interest.”

“Oh. Well, the Royal Magic Institute is the most prestigious academy for magic, founded and run by the Council. There are two major divisions, the lower and upper levels. Each level is five years long, to mimic the ten-year apprenticeship that an individual disciple would typically go through. The lower level begins at age eight, once they have enough power for there to be any real difference. The upper level begins at age thirteen, and consists of both the students from the lower level and transfer students. And then in each year there are six classes, ranked according to their proficiency, with the students stratified like that.”

“I understand. So the Council does things such as this as well… Continue on then.”

“Ah, so, we’ve been assigned to the least skilled class of the third year of the upper level.”

“I see. A form of harassment? Are you disliked?”

“Huh?! I’m sure that’s not what it is…” Gracia trails off, not quite able to refute the idea.

“Well then, how should we go about teaching them?”

“Well, if they’re in the third year, then they’ll be fifteen. So we’re hardly any older than they are. So I think that we really need to show the difference in strength early on so they respect us. But… you can’t use magic, so…”

“If all that is required of us is to show our strength, then that is what must be done. The path ahead is simple.”

“Huh? How could it be simple when—”

“Are you really so worried about something of so little consequence?”

“Of course I am. I can’t mess this up.”

“That’s all the more reason to relax; nothing can come about if your body and mind are wound so tightly.” Libarius cuts off a piece of the cake and holds it atop the fork. He thrusts it forward towards Gracia, a large smile on his face. “Eat, Gracia. Nourish the soul.” With the cake held in front of her mouth, Gracia turns red quickly. The few other patrons of the cafe have begun to look at the sudden scene, only deepening Gracia’s embarrassment. Suddenly, a woman with long purple hair in a maid uniform appears standing near the table.