School of Sorcery

Chandagnac said:

'We're…' Philomond hesitates, hugging the grimoire protectively. 'That is to say… technically, we're not supposed to have this book.'

'If we were to make use of these portals for legitimate purposes – of which there are many, I'm sure – someone would realise that where we'd learnt it from,' Xanthippa adds. 'We'd be in a lot of trouble.'

'Don't tell anyone,' Regimander warns, looming over you. 'If you do, we'll know it was you.'

'Where did you get the book from?' you ask. 'Did you steal it?'

'Do you promise not to tell?' Philomond asks, looking ever paler and sicklier than before.

Click to expand...

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'I won't tell anyone, but I don't want to get involved,' you say. 'Thanks for the offer, but… no thanks.'

'Are you sure?' asks Philomond, looking disappointed.

You nod.

'Well, you're missing out,' says Regimander with a forced laugh. 'You could've been rich, you could've been a success, and it would've been easy. But no, you don't want it. Well, that's fine. We'll find someone else easily enough.'

'Simony always says, "There's a sucker born every minute,"' Xanthippa adds.

You refrain from commenting, even though it would be so very easy. Instead, you walk away, back out of the door, and to where Simony is sitting.

'Didn't fancy that, then?' He sniggers to himself. 'And I went to such trouble to find a good job for you! Honestly, I don't know why I bother.'

'It was too much for me,' you admit. 'Using rare and dangerously untested magic to rob the hidden lair of someone who is both a dragon and a god… I felt like it could too easily go wrong and get me killed. Some games aren't worth the candle, you know?'

'Yeah, I know,' he says with a nod. For a moment, you almost feel a sense of kinship and camaraderie with him, until he ruins it with a grin and another flippant remark: 'But, as they say, it's the only game in town. That's why they always keep coming back to me, even when they know they shouldn't.'

'Do you have anything to do with the fact that they're in so much debt that they feel like they need to rob a dragon's hoard in order to pay it off?' you ask shrewdly.

'Me? Why would you think that?' He feigns a look of surprise.

'You're involved in the gambling club – sorry, I mean "the Apathy Society" – and presumably you've earned money from it which you can loan to people. Also, if they keep gambling and losing the money which you loaned to them, it's easy to see how they might get desperate.'

'Something I've learnt since I've been at this school is that intelligence and competence are not universal. There are some very clever people who are surprisingly blinkered in a number of ways. Or, just because they've got good grades doesn't mean they aren't also capable of doing something incredibly stupid.' Simony sighs. 'I don't see myself as being responsible for any of it, of course. Their lives are their own, their choices are their own, and their mistakes are their own. I'm a mere facilitator. But if they're determined to be idiots, why shouldn't I take advantage, hmm?'

'Seems to me that you've got it all sussed out,' you say, inching away from him.

'Yeah, I guess so. This isn't the life I wanted, but I guess it'll do, for now,' he says. Looking you up and down, he notices your attempt at a stealthy retreat. 'Eager to leave, are you? Fair enough. I suppose I'll see you around.'

'Goodbye, Simony,' you say, taking the opportunity to depart. You make a mental note to be wary of him in future. Not that you weren't already, but you have no desire to be embroiled in yet another of his schemes without realising it.


Your Literacy lesson on Fiveday goes very smoothly now that you don't have to worry about Isolia being menaced by Professor Witt. One way or another, it seems that all of the first-years have learnt to read and write well enough to avoid being shouted out, so he has little to complain about. He seems satisfied with that.

During the study period, in preparation for next week's Alchemy lesson, you continue to practice the basic enchantment spells you learnt this week. Also, you share the pamphlets which Professor Kunrath gave you with your teammates, so that they have a better idea of how learning more about Alchemy could be useful to them.



While you are tending your garden later that afternoon, it occurs to you that, starting from next week, you will have to start paying a monthly subscription fee if you want to keep your little plot of land and be a member of the Gardening Club. The cost is only one silver shard, which is the same amount of money as Icharium unwittingly gave you when he was attempting to entice you to join in with the gambling at the Apathy Society. Would it make sense to pay the money early, as a sign of your commitment, or wait until later?

You discuss this with Isolia, who is likewise watering some of her plants. 'I can't afford to pay the fees, so instead I've agreed to grow some plants they want seeds for. The rest of the garden is mine, so I suppose you could say that I am paying for it by working for them.'

'And what do you plan to do with the money which Icharium gave you?' you ask curiously.

'I know that you've earned some money by taking some flowers to market. That's a good idea; I would like to do the same, but first I would need to buy pots and things. Icharium's money would be good for that, I think.'

'Spend some money in order to make more later on,' you say with a nod. 'Clever of you.'

'Why, thank you, Dorian,' she says, smiling back at you.


You play a couple of games of Bladderwrack on Sixday morning, in which your team does surprisingly well, but you are more interested in asking Wing Commander Vancien about Philander's brother, Hubris.

'Yes, I was the one who thought he'd be a good fit for the Imperial Legion, so I encouraged him,' says the crusty old veteran with a nod.

'Do you know where he's stationed?' Philander eagerly asks. 'I'd like to send him a letter. He doesn't get on with our father, so it's not surprising that he's broken off all contact, but I'm sure he'd want to hear from me.'

Vancien gazes dubiously at him for a moment, then nods. 'All right. I'll get it for you. Wait here.'

Afterwards, Phil is ecstatic to have a chance to get in touch with his eldest brother for the first time in years, so much so that he can't keep still. You had set aside some time after lunch for your team to work together on any of your subjects which have been giving any of you trouble, but seeing him unable to think about anything other than his letter, you decide that it would be better to leave him to it. So, you, Isolia, and Venta get together instead.

'I thought we could work on our illusions,' you say. 'I know you got quite upset when I made an illusory version of you, Venta–'

'Just don't do it again,' she grumbles.

'So, it would be helpful if I could figure out an alternative,' you finish.

'I'd prefer it if you didn't make an illusory version of anyone without their permission,' she says uneasily.

'Is that a goblin thing?' asks Isolia. 'I know that goblins tend to be highly skilled illusionists, in honour of their moon goddess, so… are there any special rules you're supposed to follow, as part of your culture?'

'Illusions are dangerous. There are illusionists who can drive people mad, convince someone to murder their loved ones, mislead someone into falling down a hole to their death, and so on. More than that… in some ways, the dividing line between illusion and reality is very thin. Even when people know that something is a falsehood, they may find it difficult to keep it from influencing their way of thinking,' says Venta. 'Therefore, because goblins have a reputation for being such skilled illusionists – as you say, it's part of our culture – there have been various kings and emperors who have seen us as an unacceptable threat to their authority. So, they had us killed or banished.'

'I thought there were other reasons for that: various blood libels?' you say curiously.

'Yes, they have plenty of excuses.' Venta nods. 'But their actual reasons are always the same: they feel threatened by us, or they want to distract everyone else from the real causes of their problems by blaming vulnerable minorities.'

'So, in an effort to prevent that sort of thing, I'm guessing you have a code of conduct for illusionists,' you say, after some thought.

'Yes, part of which is: unless it's an emergency, don't make an illusory version of anyone without their permission,' she says, giving you a meaningful look.

'Well, what if I created an illusion of a generic person who wasn't modelled on anyone in particular?' you ask. 'Would that be all right?'

'That would be acceptable,' she says.

You continue to work on your illusions for most of the afternoon, until you decide that it's time to a rest. After that, you have a pleasant evening. Outside, the sunset is glorious.


On Sevenday, more Bladderwrack, after which you attend the Fitness Club, presided over by Kelenar Stauntrim, a rather intense fifth-year pupil. He's tall, dark-haired, broodingly thoughtful, and heavily muscled. The club seems quite well-attended by young girls (and a few boys) who just want to ogle him. The reason for that is probably "hormones", you understand.

He shows you some of the weights and other equipment they use, then joins you for a brisk run around the courtyard outside, and then hands you a glass of chilled water – produced from seemingly nowhere – a nifty trick if you can do it!

'At your age, I wouldn't advise you to be lifting any heavy weights,' he says. 'It would be too easy for you to do yourself some real damage. I don't know if you've seen… Around the city, there are a few crippled beggars who used to be ordinary boys, the same as you and me. Unscrupulous blacksmiths hired them at a young age, and every day made them lift weights which were too heavy for them, thereby crippling them for life. Of course, you'd have easier access to healing magic – which I'd recommend you learn anyway – but that comes with its own downsides.'

'I know,' you say, thinking of your father, his life-threatening illness, and the immunity to healing magic which he has acquired over time.

'I'm glad you understand,' says Kelenar. 'You'll find it difficult to build muscle until you're closer to my age, so I wouldn't recommend you try. Instead, focus on stamina. Get into good habits which will benefit you later in life. If you go for a short run – or even a brisk walk – every single day, that's better than going for a single long run, feeling terrible, throwing up afterwards, and never wanting to do any exercise again. Instead, try to build up over time. Do what you feel comfortable with, then – tomorrow – try to do a little bit more.' He considers you for a moment. 'While you're young, you have the advantage of being lighter and more flexible than you'll be when you get older. If you're keen to play to your strengths, there are a few things you could try…'

Under his tutelage, you have a very instructive, informative, but also quite exhausting afternoon. He doesn't push you past your limits, but you have a much better idea of where your limits are by the end of it.

It was probably worth it, you decide afterwards.

---

And so, we've come to the end of another week. This one seemed to go quickly, didn't it?

Here is your normal timetable of lessons and free periods:

And here is a link to the timetable of extracurricular activities.

Also, these actions are available at any time:
1. Explore the school
2. Socialize with other pupils (write in: who?)
3. Extra studying
4. Attempt to speak to a member of the faculty (write in: who?)
5. Training with your team.
6. Gardening
7. Mental Defence training
8. Astronomy Club project
9. Strength training
10. Agility training
11. Durability training
12. Rest
(Note: more actions will be unlocked as you learn more about what's going on.)

These actions are only available at certain times:
1. Minding Simony's stall (weekends only)

Please discuss what you would like Dorian to do next week. You don't need to come up with the full timetable, just make some suggestions. Is there anything you want him to do?