What We Do to Survive

Despite being what some might describe as a lawless hellhole full of murderous sociopaths, Avalon did have a number of very strictly enforced rules. The student handbook they gave out at the start of every year was nearly four-hundred pages long and reading all of it was not so much required as it was just common sense.

Every year a few particularly stupid first-years would disregard the strongly worded encouragement to read and memorize the entire thing before they did anything else, and their corpses tended to ensure everyone else complied.

In any case, while Avalon did allow and encourage its students to practice a number of magics that were widely considered immoral or illegal in the outside world, it also had some surprisingly reasonable rules about that sort of thing. That was why, less than an hour after I’d finally managed to wrangle the awkwardly frozen outsider into my room and properly secure it within a bubble of layered wards, I walked up to Professor Laushring’s office and politely knocked on the door.

There was no response. I waited for a few seconds, then knocked again. This time, the large green gem embedded in the center of the door lit up and the Professor’s gruff voice rang out from it. “Yes? You’re not one of my students, what do you need?”

I assumed that he probably wouldn’t be asking me questions if the enchantments on the door weren’t two-way. I looked around awkwardly, I would have preferred to do this with a little bit more privacy. “Sorry to bother you, Professor,” I began. It was always best to be polite to grouchy Archmages, “Could I speak to you with a little bit more priva––”

Before I could finish the sentence, a powerful set of wards snapped into place around me. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I suddenly felt my mana sense cut off and an oppressive stillness fall over me. “There!” he barked, “Talk.”

“Thank you, Professor. Per Academy rule seventy-four, I wanted to inform you that I brought a potentially hostile outsider into the Academy. It’s under a stasis spell at the moment and I used––”

Once again, I was interrupted mid sentence. The heavy door slammed open, crashing against the stone wall with a painfully loud bang that echoed inside the ward-enclosed bubble. I eyed the door warily, thankful that I’d taken a step back away after knocking. That… would have hurt. A lot. And I would have never lived down getting badly injured by an opening door if anyone knew about it. That sort of thing could break a reputation in a matter of hours.

“Come in,” the professor called out from somewhere beyond the door, “take a seat and I’ll be with you in just a moment.”

I didn’t have to wait for long. Only about thirty seconds after I’d sat down in the heavy chair across from his desk, he emerged from a small, open side door that I somehow hadn’t noticed when I’d come in. He stomped heavily across the room, then hopped up into his tall chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he stared at me.

For being barely four feet tall, Professor Laushring was… intimidating. He wasn’t the only dwarf I’d ever met, there were two in my year and a few others I’d run into over the years, but he was definitely the scariest. While his presence had nothing on the Headmaster, he had an aura of barely suppressed violence that hung over him like a storm cloud. The two gleaming rubies that he had used to replace his eyes certainly didn’t help, their bright, baleful glow making it impossible to meet his eyes.

“First question. Did you summon it?”

I shook my head.

“Good. You don’t look like an idiot, but you never know.” He seemed to relax slightly, leaning back and kicking his feet up onto the desk. “Now then, if you didn’t summon it, do you know who did?”

I shook my head again.

“Really?” he asked skeptically.

“Yes professor.”

“So then you hunted it down? All on your own?”

“No professor. I found it.”

“Found it?” He seemed rather confused.

“Yes professor. I was walking through the town and felt an odd disturbance in the mana flows. It was using some sort of spell or ability to hide its presence, but there must have been something wrong with it because I could still sense it.”

“So you just… stumbled on the outsider and then decided to capture it? I take it isn’t a very dangerous outsider then.”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. It was sleeping when I found it.”

The professor simply stared at me. After about a minute, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Professor?” I asked tentatively.

“You… were simply walking through town,” he said slowly, “and then you… found… a sleeping outsider?”

“Yes professor. I can’t be certain that it was an outsider, I’ve never seen one in person before, but it certainly felt like the descriptions I’ve read of them.”

The professor reached up to rub his forehead. “Okay. Well then.” He paused and looked up towards the ceiling. “And where is your… sleeping outsider now?”

Oh, good. This was the question I had actually been prepared to answer. “I have it secured in my room, professor. The creature itself is locked away under a stasis spell that should last for a few more days before I need to renew it. I haven’t felt any sort of disturbances in the spell matrix that might indicate that its abilities are interfering with the spell. In case something does happen, I used Rolf’s seventh prisoner ward scheme done in transmuted silver around it. That should last––”

My mouth snapped closed with a soft click when he interrupted me again. “Yes, yes, that’s one of the approved sets for outsiders. Assuming you managed to put it together correctly, you should be alright. Otherwise, the wards on your room should keep it contained after it eats you.” He chuckled loudly, and I tentatively joined him even though I didn’t really see what was so funny about what he’d said.

“Do you need anything else from me?” I asked once it seemed like he was done.

“No, no, you’ve done what needs doing. I’ll fill out the appropriate forms and make sure they’re filled correctly.”

“Thank you, professor.”

“It’s my job!” he cackled loudly, “Run along now, lucky sod. Try not to let your new toy kill you!”

“Of course, professor. I’ll take that into consideration.” I stood up, bowed my head politely, and then warily watched as the door opened smoothly at a gesture from the dwarf.

The illusions I’d dropped outside his office came back up as I resumed channeling mana into the spells and I hurried out of the room. For being such a valuable opportunity, the outsider really was giving me a lot of work to do on a day I’d planned to spend relaxing with Lea.

After a quick lunch, I headed to a practice room I’d reserved several days ago for my next commitment. After seeing Miranda’s underwhelming performance in our fight against Kwesta and assessing Briella and Cayla’s own skills, I’d decided that some group training was in order. I imagined that sooner or later I was going to end up fighting with one or more of them at my back, and dying because they couldn’t cast a decent shield spell would be horribly embarrassing.

I’d already assigned all three of them a number of spells and general exercises to practice that would hopefully bring them to a reasonable standard of competence, but my books told me it was important to get some more practical training as well.

Honestly, I probably needed some of that myself. I’d only ever been in a few real fights over the years and there was a big difference between casting a spell during training and doing so while someone was trying to kill you.

It hadn’t been an issue so far, but if I’d let myself panic for even a single moment during the fight against Kwesta I would have been dead before I could blink. If that first shield I had used at the start of the fight had been even an instant slower, that would have been it.

Today had been the same thing. I should have done something when I’d first seen the creature start moving. Everything had worked out well, but if it had been just a bit faster it might have escaped the circle before I finished the ritual. If I’d thought to prepare something like a force wall or even just cast a simple shield spell at the edge of the circle, that eventuality could have been avoided. I needed to be faster, stronger, better.

To that end, I had reserved one of the large, heavily warded combat-practice rooms that Avalon had set up for just that sort of training. Unlike the regular rooms I typically used, these came with another layer of wards that were designed to prevent serious injuries during training. As long as the combat spells being thrown around were under sixth-circle, the room would ensure most wounds were non-lethal, cushion impacts, and generally make things safer for everyone involved.

I had only found out about that feature rather recently. Liam had told me about it after I met with him in one such room. I hadn’t realized that Avalon offered such a… relatively safe way of practicing dangerous magic to its students. According to him, they were a relatively new feature that had been added by a former professor who had designed the ward scheme to prevent ‘accidents’ during his classes.

Despite heading over rather early, I was actually the last to arrive. Cayla, Briella, and Miranda were sitting together off to one side of the large, boxy room quietly talking amongst themselves. When I stepped inside they fell silent, Cayla and Briella bowing deeply towards me.

“Lovely,” I said loudly as I checked the time, “we can start a few minutes early then. Good initiative.” I really did appreciate it. I hated being late and when others were late. Miranda had once explained the concept of ‘fashionably late’ to me, and it had only further cemented my distaste towards nobles. Even for long-lived archmages, time was a precious, limited commodity. Wasting it was criminal.

Setting my things down beside the door, I dug out a notebook and flipped it open to where I’d planned out our training time. “We’ll start with some simple partnered practice. I’ll be with Miranda and you two will be together. One person casts, the other shields or counters. No destructive interference, the wards on the room won’t do anything to prevent spell backlash.”

I looked up from my notes, “All clear?” I was met with three nods. “Good, then let's get to it. We’ll switch partners every ten minutes. Once everyone’s worked with everyone, we’ll move on to the next exercise.”

“Yes master!” exclaimed Briella. She seemed rather enthusiastic about today’s training, much more than Cayla had been when I’d told her about it the previous week. I had a feeling that Briella considered any excuse to practice her fire spells against a living target as a grand opportunity.

Ever since she’d drunk her potion several weeks ago, her mastery of the Fire spellform had increased dramatically. Under my supervision she’d even managed to cast a fourth-circle fire spell during our previous week’s training, despite being completely unable to cast any third-circle spell outside of her speciality.

She had an intuitive understanding of what the spell matrix should look like and how to form the multi-dimensional aspects of the magic that was honestly mind boggling. It had taken me months of careful practice and research to cast my first fourth-circle spell. Briella, despite having considerably worse control over her mana than I did, managed it in two weeks. Even if her mastery extended only to a very specific category of spells, it was still incredibly impressive.

Something in her voice made me pause and turn to look at her. “Nothing over second-circle when you’re working with Cayla,” I ordered, “you can try some of your more powerful stuff when we’re paired together. I’d rather not test the effectiveness of the room’s wards if we can avoid it.”

“Yes master,” she repeated, this time somewhat more subdued.

“Good. Let's get to it. Miranda,” I jerked my head towards the far side of the large room, “let’s give them some room.”

Miranda hurried after me, then took a position about twenty feet away from me. For a long moment we just stood there silently, and I gestured for her to get on with it. Miranda raised her hand, mana curling around her fingers as she prepared to cast a spell. Then she lowered her hand, a conflicted expression on her face.

“Come on!” I called out, “Let’s get to work.” Miranda looked away, eyes cast down towards the floor. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t want to attack you, master,” she whispered after a moment, her voice almost too soft to hear. “What… what if I hurt you?”

Oh. I… hadn’t considered that. In theory, this shouldn’t be an issue, but I could see why it felt like one from her perspective. I reached inward, brushing gently against the bond that connected us. “Don’t worry, you won’t,” I told her confidently. Sure, Miranda was probably good enough to injure me if she caught me by surprise, but I trusted my own skills and this room should ensure any mistakes wouldn’t be an issue. “You can consider this an order if that makes you feel better.”

“Yes Orion,” she said after a moment, her voice still soft but less shaky. “Are you ready?”

I nodded sharply. “Let’s see what you can do. Your showing against Kwesta was an embarrassment, I hope your recent practice has––”

She was casting before I even finished the sentence and I shut up to focus on my own magic. I approved of her taking the initiative like that. In our fight against Kwesta, it had taken her a moment to realize that the conversation was over and it was time to fight and I was a fervent believer that any mistake should only ever be made once.

Thin strands of mana poured out of her fingertips and spun together into a complex web of twisting light. I didn’t recognize the spell, but I could feel elements of the Sound spellform and fragments from other forms I was familiar with. I didn’t know any counters that were designed specifically for those forms, and my general purpose counters tended to be of the more destructive sort. Thus, I would attempt to shield myself instead.

Miranda had started casting first and it had taken some time to assess her spell, so I didn’t have time for anything too complex. My own mana spun around me and a dome of silence formed around me. Miranda’s spell finished a moment later and I felt a wave of magic crash around my dome before fading away.

My turn. I didn’t want to overwhelm Miranda immediately, that would completely defeat the point of this exercise, so I chose a spell I was only passingly familiar with. Heat formed the core of the spell matrix, ribbons of mana expanding into billowing, hazy streams that twisted in and around themselves. Around it were elements of Force, Light, and Pressure, along with tiny fragments from other spellforms that I had simply copied wholly from the book in which I’d found the spell.

Miranda didn’t try to prevent me from casting the spell either. A wall of oppressive, scorching heat rose up in front of me, then shot towards Miranda. Through the heat haze it left in its wake, I watched Miranda conjure up a classic third-circle bulwark to protect herself.

It mostly worked, my spell dissipated as it slammed against the wall of magic-infused force, but Miranda stumbled back when the residual heat of the spell washed over her. I was glad I hadn’t put too much mana into the spell, healing burns, even just first-degree burns, was annoying. I would have to show Miranda some heat-regulating circulations, that was definitely one of the most useful bits of magic I’d picked up from my body alteration class so far.

Miranda didn’t let the heat distract her for long. A counterspell from me dismantled the earth spell she was trying to cast, then she used the exact same counter on my own attack. From there, we both began to get a little more creative. A concentrated blast of conjured water sprayed uselessly against a sloped sheet of force. That same water became a billowing cloud of scalding steam, then a volley of spinning glass shards that I threw back at her with a wide banishing spell.

Eventually, time ran out and Miranda switched places with a slightly scorched looking Cayla. She also required a small nudge before she would start casting against me, but that was to be expected. Her binding was considerably less intricate than Miranda’s, with a much more strict definition of what she could and couldn’t do.

Our exchange was considerably less interesting than the one I had with Miranda. She was improving, but Cayla was still a below-average second year despite our best efforts. She had little talent for shaping mana and was having trouble finding a speciality that suited her.

At the very least, her fundamentals and casting speed had gotten better. I stuck to first-circle spells and she successfully shielded against or countered each one except for an electric jolt that knocked her on her butt right before our time ran out.

When it was finally her turn, Briella proved not to need any encouragement. She almost seemed too excited to start. Her opening attack was a gigantic fireball that I deflected into the ceiling with a wall of cold air. The jagged ball of ice that I fired back with was obliterated by an almost blindingly hot ray of fire that was followed by another fireball, this one slightly smaller but much hotter. This time, I shielded myself with a wall of conjured water.

The rest of our time proceeded exactly like that. She would cast a fire spell to attack, I would deflect it, shield against it, or counter it. Then, I would fire back and she would use some manner of fire spell, typically either a wall, bubble, or ray, to defend herself. Eventually, I switched to pure Force spells to try and stop her from just overwhelming my various attacks with more fire, but even then she simply used Force and Fire hybrid spells to defend herself.

She was somewhat overspecialized, but I couldn’t really find much fault in that. We would have to work on other fields eventually, but for now I could see she was reveling in her newly improved talent and throwing herself fully into her studies. When that initial wave of enthusiasm wore off, we would switch to something else, but for now it was too good of a motivator.

I already knew exactly how I was going to motivate her to practice other magic. Over our last few sessions, I’d found that she hated her family even more than I had initially suspected. Telling her that they were likely also specialized in fire spells and she needed something to get around that should ensure I didn’t need oath-enforced orders to make her cooperate.