Monday Morning:
Ulos finally received his timetable as the entire year gathered at the base of the Library, Professor Tilbut showing up to guide them once more. She was perpetually stern, lining them up and handing out folded pieces of paper to each student.
Ulos looked over. Essentially, he had Magical Theory first, taking up most of his Mondays. Spirits and Souls was on Tuesdays, Magical Practice and Awareness on Wednesdays, and Magical History on Thursdays. Friday was divided between the four, with Magical Practice having a practicum at the end of every Friday - presumably so if there were any injuries or incidents the effected student would miss as little class as possible.
"Class is in half an hour. Find your way to your classroom, be seated ten minutes before your teacher arrives. The doors will be shut and locked on class start - breaks occur twice daily, so if you are late to a class you will not be permitted to enter until one of the breaks. This is to minimise disruption. All First Years have Magical Theory on Mondays, so I will take you to the Magical Theory section."
Tilbut walked, leading the class behind her. Magical Theory was a short distance from the Library, a collection of buildings of various sorts and sizes.
"Here it is. You will go to Lecture Theatre B, and take your seats there."
She turned and left.
Ulos walked in, standing next to Madavian, with Abraham and Sunette nearby. They'd stuck together for this, forming a little clique of people centred around Ulos. It was an odd feeling, walking with others. In the Empire a friend was just someone who might steal the coin you found on the street. Here, it was different.
Lecture Theatre B turned out to be a dusty room with wooden seats and small wooden desks, and a large blackboard covering the front wall. The room was angled downwards to ensure everyone could see the board.
"Let's sit up the front."
Madavian made a face, but followed them down. They managed to get seats in the second row, waiting for the teacher to arrive.
A few seconds later, a massive, heavyset man entered. His head was bald and scarred, and he was missing an eye. He was only a little taller than Ulos, but tremendously wide across the shoulder, not a bit of it fat. He looked down at the room.
"Another poor crop.", he muttered.
The man walked up to the front of the room, and it fell silent.
"Welcome to Magical Theory. I am your teacher, Senior Mage Akkos Inukar. You may call me Senior Mage, or Mage Inukar, or Professor Inukar. You will not speak during class unless you are called on."
He took a breath, speaking in a tired monotone.
"To get the trivia out of the way, you will have a test each week on Friday. This will allow you to judge your own progress, I do not care what mark you get until the end of the term. I do not take attendance. If you miss class, you miss class. If you fail, you fail. I will not hear complaints, and if you decide for some asinine reason you will complain to me about your own failings I will make you very sorry that you did so. Lastly, every year someone tries to cheat. I catch them. I beat them soundly for the insult to the integrity of my class, and then I expel them. Do not let that person be you."
He looked down at the class. Ulos felt somewhat scared at this point.
Professor Inukar's voice changed.
"Let me say this as well. At the end of the term, we will divide you into groups. The failures, the mediocre, the acceptable, and the talented. No other class does this, for no other class can afford to. There are few enough crying out to be Alchemists, but in Magical Theory only the talented truly advance."
He raised his hand, sketching a quick symbol in the air, and the room disappeared. Ulos found himself floating atop a mountain, high in the air, with Professor Inukar continuing to speak, though now circling around them.
"We are now above Mount Sinara, in the Saint's Archipelago. We are halfway truly there, not merely viewing it from afar. The sensation of flying is yours, and you are able to move about in this state without moving your real body. This is the simple application of theoretical principles from a far-viewing spell, a far-stepping spell, and a little mind magic to link your senses to my spell. Any idiot can cast any one of those spells once she has read it in a book. But a theorist can derive a new spell, or a new form of an old spell to do something far newer. If we desired it, we could fly down towards the mountain below, and we would be able to watch from our heart's content anything happening there in real-time."
Inukar clicked his fingers, and the room reappeared.
"Oh, a combat mage can cast a fireball. Or ten. Or twenty. An Alchemist can learn ten Recipes and mix them all up well enough. A Runesmith can forge equipment as long as he knows the Runes. He is like a normal smith, but paid better and seen with a little more adulation. In this room, however, lies the Golden Road to true power. Others walk twisting paths, hoping to take a little knowledge from one mage or another, learning painstaking to create a new variation on an old spell. One who does well in this class grasps the root of power, grasps its true form. It is no coincidence that the greatest mages are all theorists, learning knowledge far beyond that of their peers. Here is the only place you may learn to do that. Magical Theory multiplies and expands any other branch of magic you choose to learn, making other practitioners of that branch nothing more than children before you."
Inukar looked over.
"Before, though, I spoke of the failures. Around one-quarter of you every year do not have the grit or intelligence to grasp anything more than the forms of Theory. You, we will send to the remedial class so you can at least learn how to identify spells being cast against you, or modify your own spells so you might make them larger or smaller. You will never truly amount to anything in the magical world, though you might make a fine worker for a true mage."
He looked up.
"One-half of you are mediocre, as a rule. You will be educated enough to do a little true spellwork, nothing significant. As much as you can grasp, as little as that will be. You might be able to fashion a change in a spell here and there, or invent a variation on a Recipe or two. You will be like most mages. Mediocre, grasping only for the visible form of power without truly understanding its source."
"One-fifth of you are acceptable. You will have a chance, no more than that. You will be able to learn the way the Primordial Ether comes into the world, some of the fundamental and difficult truths behind the Forms magic takes. You will become those who are seen as great, your footsteps echoing throughout the world as you choose your path. Yet true greatness will remain just beyond you reach."
He looked, staring directly at Ulos (or so it felt) and spoke again.
"Around three or four of you a year have some small talent. You will learn mathematics and literature and the three dead languages of the Achun so that you might think differently and force your mind to think in different paths. You will be tested and tried and forged into something capable of comprehending a corner of a corner of the truth, someone who might grasp the very fabric of the world and force it to do your bidding. You will be great, though if you are wise few will know of your true greatness. To those of you with talent, welcome to my class. If you prove yourself, the pathway to power will open itself before you."
The rest of the day was Inukar talking about various theories, but mostly things Ulos had learned already. Mostly he sketched out long equations on the board, writing up various geometrical symbols, delving into Reinald's First Theorem. Dry and boring, and Ulos didn't pick up too much.
(Training Roll: Magical Theory. 5x2 Int = 10. gained +1 Lore: Magical Theory. Current rank is +7 Magical Theory (0/10 next step).)
Monday Afternoon:
Ulos went to the Library immediately, seeking to gain a better idea of what was going on.
(Scout out the Library. Roll 44 + 2 = 46 (prior roll) vs DC 80. Failure. Gain +46 on your next Scout out the Library roll.)
"So the Souls and Spirits texts from over a hundred years ago are all on the third floor, but why are those from the last ten years all on the first...?"
He hadn't figured it out yet, but over several hours of exploring and reading titles and front pages he felt he'd gained something, just not enough to act on. Maybe another day he'd grasp what was going on.
Tuesday Morning:
The class of about fifteen entered the hedgelike maze, immediately struck by how dark it was.
"Come in."
A light flared on.
A little wizened old woman stood at the end of a tiny room, overgrown with moss and vines.
"I am Senior Mage Miranova. You may call me what you like, if the Spirits don't care I certainly don't see why I should. Seat yourself wherever, the moss is mostly dry right now."
They sat down, a little nervous.
"So. You're wondering what we'll learn here. We'll be learning about Spirits and whatnot. The room is dark because it's all lit by Transitional Ether. I'm not going to explain what that is, ask Inukar, he loves talking about the stuff. You can't see it yet, and it'll only become visible to you if the Spirit here wants you to know it. Thankfully he's a sweetheart, and as long as you can learn a few of his properties and ask nicely, he'll let you."
"I'll be leaving the lamp on for the first term. If you come back after that, well, you'd better figure out how to see the Ether."
She chuckled and pointed.
"You there, girl. What's your name?"
"Um, Laila. Laila Cartier."
Ulos straightened. It was the blue-haired girl, but her hair had lost the streak! He hadn't recognised her before that!
"Good. I might introduce one of you to the class every lesson or so. Now, Laila, you have a name, don't you?"
"Yes?"
"Yes, of course you do. You also have fixed properties. You're made of flesh, you can cast spells, you grow hair."
"Um, yes?"
"Shush girl, that's all I needed from you. Spirits aren't quite like that. They don't have forms, but rather desires. They want to take a Form, or have some change occur in the physical world. If you're to understand Spirits, you need to understand that most of all. You're not here to learn the formulas and whatnot of Magical Theory, but rather to get an idea of who Spirits are, and what sort of things they might want. Also, did you know we can learn spells when we see Spirits take Form, if we're fast enough? That's how the first spells were learned, I rather think."
(Training Roll: Souls and Spirits. 2x5 Int = 10. Gained one rank. Current rank +6 Lore: Souls and Spirits (5/10 next level))
The class went on in this fashion, Miranova saying this and that, unconnected facts that didn't really hang together. Ulos felt like he'd learned facts and things, but nothing underlying, no deep understanding presented itself. Oh well.
Tuesday Afternoon:
Ulos went to go check on Abraham. He'd been upset on the weekend, and while he'd been excited by the Library yesterday, he felt he needed to figure out what was happening with the other flit. Flits stood together, after all.
"Hey, Madavian. Do you know what happened with Abraham?"
"I mean, I know some of the Narubites threw a bucket of water at him, but, no, not really."
Ulos went around to Abraham's dorm, and stood there for awhile, listening quietly.
(Find out about Abraham - 58 + 10 Cha = 68 vs 80 DC. Bare failure. +10 to next roll on this issue.)
"Haha yeah, he really got mad. I know, right?"
Ulos perked his ears up. Maybe he was about to hear something useful.
(Willpower expenditure gives Reroll! - 28 + 10 Cha + 10 prior roll. = 58 vs 80 DC. Solid failure.)
Suddenly, a pair of blue Narubite eyes were staring at him, and the two boys passing muttered to one another and hurried off.
Damn.
Wednesday Morning:
"Welcome to Magical Practice and Awareness. I'm Weres, former combat mage. Call me what you like, I can assure you no matter what it is, I've been called worse by better. Don't get out your books."
The short man at the front of the class raised his hand.
"We're learning basic spellweaving. That means hands, no wands. No paper. Wands have more precision, sure. Paper is useful and prepared. However, in combat, you will only have your hands. Why? Because you're all weak. You never want to get into combat. If combat comes for you, it means you didn't prepare right. So we're teaching you how to survive that sort of fuckup."
Weres raised his hands.
"Now, spells are precise. You waver a little bit, the spell fails or changes. You can't see it, so you need to know what you're doing before you put the magic in. An average mage fucks up, they suffer. You fuck up, well, you have tiny Magic Pools anyway. You die. Your spellweaving has to be precise."
Weres traced a symbol in the air, thirteen differently-shaped lines.
"These are the Basic Thirteen. Called so because they're the most common thirteen parts of sigils for combat spells. Almost every one of these is found in almost any combat spell, and the early spells we teach you will be all based off the Basic Thirteen. Oh, magical theorists will say delve into the knowledge of the Ether, or some stupid shit like that. Let me tell you about reality. In reality, you cast right or you die. You lot don't have the magic to fuck up a spell, either. So you cast right the first time, and you cast quick. Then you run away."
He walked to the centre of the room, and put his hand on the floor.
"Here. The artifact in this room does one thing. When you draw one of the Basic Thirteen right, it'll suspend it in green for a moment in the air. If you draw it wrong, or you draw it too slow, it'll suspend in red. This way you don't need to expend any magic to practice. Start practicing. Left half of the room, draw for ten minutes. Right half, watch them. You'll swap every ten minutes. You need to be able to both identify what your opponent is drawing before he empowers it, and draw yourself."
(Gained temporary bonus: Training Room. Allows characters to use Physical Ability instead of Channeling to train Spellweaving if Physical Ability is higher.)
(Training Roll: Skill: Spellweaving. 4x2 (Phys) = 8. Gained +1 Skill: Spellweaving (3/5 next level).)
And that was Magical Practice. Six long hours of weaving symbols in the air. Ulos screwed up a lot. His finger wavered a little too far forward, or a little to the left and the symbol went red. Red, red, red. It was all his saw for hours. At the end, a few of the symbols went green. That was all he managed to accomplish. Oh well.
Wednesday Afternoon:
Study group went well.
(Training Roll: Magical Theory. 4x5 Int = 20. gained +2 Lore: Magical Theory. Current rank is +9 Magical Theory (0/10 next step).)
They barely spoke, engrossed in their classes.
(Training Roll: History. 1x5 Int = 5. gained +1 Lore: History. Current rank is +3 (0/5 next step).)
Abraham looked worried, but they had too much on their minds to talk.
(Relationship Rolls, Su, Abe = 10, 43 vs DC 80. Failures.)
Thursday Morning:
(Training Roll: History. 5x5 Int = 25. gained +3 Lore: History Current rank is +6 (5/10 next step).)
Some days were good. Today, though, Ulos barely made it into History, arriving just before the teacher.
"I am Professor Junotrin. Yes, House Junotrin. No, not a major member of the Family, I know you'd all ask. Today we'll be going over the history of the Collapse."
"...after the Saint sunk Vorstal, the entire nation looked to collapse. The Undying Emperor had less control, and so chose to force less mages to be trained..."
"...And this of course led those disenfranchised mages to form their own secret societies, named at first the Society of Foxes who would later become the Six Fox Pact..."
Ulos was astounded. In half a day they'd learned a lot. Not so much the general history of the continent, but rather half the dates and names from the Early Collapse. He hadn't had much of a chance to talk to anyone, unfortunately, though.
Thursday Afternoon:
He spent the rest of the day delving into Souls and Spirits. If he was to be invited back next term, he needed to understand.
(Training Roll: Souls and Spirits. 5 + 2 = 7x5 Int = 35.. Gained four ranks. Current rank +10 Lore: Souls and Spirits (0/20 next level))
He learned a great deal, from the ancient Spirit-Callers to the modern Spirit-Binders.
"So a Spirit when it takes form becomes physical, yet remains magical. This magic is one of the most common sources for reagants in Alchemy...", he mused.
Madavian looked at him when he entered the room, and brought him dinner without even asking. Ulos took a few moments to eat it, and continued on.
Friday:
(Event Severity: 8/100. Minor.)
Ulos walked into the revision of Magical Theory. Boring, but it would probably help. An hour into Inukar's ranting, he heard the man yell.
"Empire boy! Second row, near the stairs!"
Ulos looked up.
"What is the ratio of Ether to a spell's effect size if the range is held constant and the spell is congruent with the Lemma of Expansion? The spell itself has a base Ether usage of twelve points."
(Event roll: 48 + 9 Magical Theory = 57 vs DC 50. Inukar notices your existence and is not entirely displeased!).
"Six times, Senior Mage."
Inukar nodded.
"Good. The rest of you, write that down!"
Damn, what a week. Anyway, what was he going to do with his weekend?