(no subject)
“By now you've been introduced to the basics of the arcane and with great effort can probably muster a winking glimmer of a light without blowing your brain out the back of your head. Congratulations.”
The severe man who stood at the head of the class was not their usual teacher. Master Connington stood a little ways off to the side, hands clasped behind his back, listening intently to the older man's words. The class had never met the other man, but they'd seen him and knew him by reputation. Erik Howell, former archmage, headmaster of the first magical college on Earth, and Severed. Dressed in varying shades of grey, with a bright blue necktie, his expression was stern, if not entirely cold. Plentiful lines around his eyes and grey goatee implied that here was a man who knew how to laugh.
“And I do mean that. Congratulations. It has been a hard journey, getting your connection to magic under control. But this is where the work really starts. You will learn how to twist your mind and perceptions into the necessary forms to weave that connection into spells, learn how to read the runes of spells, and how to expand your mental capacity to actually hold this bound power, permanently.”
He picked up a marker and began to pace. “But first, the basics. Not the basics of magic, as you've been taught, but the basics of schools. I'll keep this brief, because I know Mattias can't wait to erase the elegant simplicity of what I am about to tell you with the infinite complexities of magic.”
He shot a look at Master Connington, lips curved into a sharp smirk. Mattias scratched his head awkwardly and regarded the board intently as if he'd never heard this before. And in all truth, he hadn't. They'd all completed their training separately back on Terra and so he'd never worked with Howell in any educational capacity.
“So, to begin. There are eight disciplines, or schools, of spells. They allow us to categorize the infinite possibilities of magic into something resembling order. Spells in each school are related and have a certain similarity to their arcane register, but please understand that these are very rough categories. So rather than give you a breakdown of what each school holds, let me communicate to you the core dictum of each school. Between these simple, single words and your basic understanding of the English language I'll trust you can figure out what the schools stand for.”
Mattias leaned forward. Now this was interesting. Different colleges had different ways of understanding magic, and here was a chance to better understand Howell's inner workings. The older wizard drew a stylized flame on the far right side of the board.
“First, the school of Evocation. Evocation spells say to the weave, 'Burn.'”
Beside the flame, he drew an eclipsed moon. “Illusion tells you, 'Believe.'”
Beside that, a four-pointed, diamond shaped star. “Enchantment commands you to 'Want.'”
He was picking up speed. Next, an open eye. “Divination, 'See.'”
A skull. “Necromancy, 'Live.'”
An s-shaped line, with swooping arrows on either side, pointing in opposite directions. “Transmutation, 'Change.'”
An archway next. “Conjuration, “Come.'”
Nearly at the other end of the board, Howell now turned on his heel, his coat-tails spinning about him. He pointed the marker at the class and the energy in his gaze set them back. They, like Mattias, had been leaning forward unconciously. He stabbed the marker at the class once and continued,
“But we are mortal souls, not the winds and weave of magic. Our time of existence is limited and we do not naturally heed the strictures of spells as magic does. Ours is the gift of free will, and so we can look at what these words command and stand against their power.”
He turned back to the board and began with the patience and care of a wizard began tracing a perfect circle. “To aid us in this stand is the school of Abjuration. Now, in the course of your studies you may find that you gravitate to one of these schools and specialize in that discipline. Something about it will appeal to you. I, myself, was an abjurer. And what appealed to me about Abjuration was its core tenet. It looks at the imperatives of the other schools and simply answers them.”
With swift, jagged motion, Howell drew a massive N in the circle and then slowly turned to the class. Fixing them with his gaze, he spoke one word.
“No.”
The quiet, ardent statement hit the room like a physical blow. Mattias blinked at it, a girl coughed in surprise and at the back of the room he heard a pen clatter to the floor. Howell look at him, perfectly calm and nodded. Then he gave the class a small bow and left, collecting his staff from beside the door. After a moment, Mattias took centre stage again.
“And that is something I cannot teach you. That is why Erik Howell is headmaster of this arcane college, even without a connection to magic anymore." He took up the marker and began to draw. "Even without magic, that man is the most powerful wizard in the world because of one thing.”
He finished and the class found themselves looking at a pentagram. “Willpower.”
The severe man who stood at the head of the class was not their usual teacher. Master Connington stood a little ways off to the side, hands clasped behind his back, listening intently to the older man's words. The class had never met the other man, but they'd seen him and knew him by reputation. Erik Howell, former archmage, headmaster of the first magical college on Earth, and Severed. Dressed in varying shades of grey, with a bright blue necktie, his expression was stern, if not entirely cold. Plentiful lines around his eyes and grey goatee implied that here was a man who knew how to laugh.
“And I do mean that. Congratulations. It has been a hard journey, getting your connection to magic under control. But this is where the work really starts. You will learn how to twist your mind and perceptions into the necessary forms to weave that connection into spells, learn how to read the runes of spells, and how to expand your mental capacity to actually hold this bound power, permanently.”
He picked up a marker and began to pace. “But first, the basics. Not the basics of magic, as you've been taught, but the basics of schools. I'll keep this brief, because I know Mattias can't wait to erase the elegant simplicity of what I am about to tell you with the infinite complexities of magic.”
He shot a look at Master Connington, lips curved into a sharp smirk. Mattias scratched his head awkwardly and regarded the board intently as if he'd never heard this before. And in all truth, he hadn't. They'd all completed their training separately back on Terra and so he'd never worked with Howell in any educational capacity.
“So, to begin. There are eight disciplines, or schools, of spells. They allow us to categorize the infinite possibilities of magic into something resembling order. Spells in each school are related and have a certain similarity to their arcane register, but please understand that these are very rough categories. So rather than give you a breakdown of what each school holds, let me communicate to you the core dictum of each school. Between these simple, single words and your basic understanding of the English language I'll trust you can figure out what the schools stand for.”
Mattias leaned forward. Now this was interesting. Different colleges had different ways of understanding magic, and here was a chance to better understand Howell's inner workings. The older wizard drew a stylized flame on the far right side of the board.
“First, the school of Evocation. Evocation spells say to the weave, 'Burn.'”
Beside the flame, he drew an eclipsed moon. “Illusion tells you, 'Believe.'”
Beside that, a four-pointed, diamond shaped star. “Enchantment commands you to 'Want.'”
He was picking up speed. Next, an open eye. “Divination, 'See.'”
A skull. “Necromancy, 'Live.'”
An s-shaped line, with swooping arrows on either side, pointing in opposite directions. “Transmutation, 'Change.'”
An archway next. “Conjuration, “Come.'”
Nearly at the other end of the board, Howell now turned on his heel, his coat-tails spinning about him. He pointed the marker at the class and the energy in his gaze set them back. They, like Mattias, had been leaning forward unconciously. He stabbed the marker at the class once and continued,
“But we are mortal souls, not the winds and weave of magic. Our time of existence is limited and we do not naturally heed the strictures of spells as magic does. Ours is the gift of free will, and so we can look at what these words command and stand against their power.”
He turned back to the board and began with the patience and care of a wizard began tracing a perfect circle. “To aid us in this stand is the school of Abjuration. Now, in the course of your studies you may find that you gravitate to one of these schools and specialize in that discipline. Something about it will appeal to you. I, myself, was an abjurer. And what appealed to me about Abjuration was its core tenet. It looks at the imperatives of the other schools and simply answers them.”
With swift, jagged motion, Howell drew a massive N in the circle and then slowly turned to the class. Fixing them with his gaze, he spoke one word.
“No.”
The quiet, ardent statement hit the room like a physical blow. Mattias blinked at it, a girl coughed in surprise and at the back of the room he heard a pen clatter to the floor. Howell look at him, perfectly calm and nodded. Then he gave the class a small bow and left, collecting his staff from beside the door. After a moment, Mattias took centre stage again.
“And that is something I cannot teach you. That is why Erik Howell is headmaster of this arcane college, even without a connection to magic anymore." He took up the marker and began to draw. "Even without magic, that man is the most powerful wizard in the world because of one thing.”
He finished and the class found themselves looking at a pentagram. “Willpower.”