Primal Wizardry - A Magic School Progression Fantasy

[A picture of a city build on a rocky island, below which you can see the outline of windings tunnels carved into the rock.]

U is for Understanding, a Font newly found, it was discovered when a ship struck solid ground. The people of Stonehaven have long since been primals, and their ant friends have covered their islands in tunnels.

-Sally Rider’s ABCs of Magic

—

The next morning, Kole had awkwardly explained that her bathroom disappeared, and his room had appeared in its place. Playing it safe, he’d slept on a couch that night, but in the morning, his room was still there.

“Oh, that’s fine,” she said, unconcerned. “There’s at least four more around her somewhere.”

Kole thought it odd that she both didn’t care that the bathroom was now gone, and she didn’t know exactly how many were in her home.

“But,” she said, looking suddenly stricken. “I don’t think Mom is going to like this.”

While Kole had suspected as much, hearing Zale confirm it didn’t help his nerves.

“How sure are you that she’s coming back?” Kole asked, only partially in jest.

The week that followed was both the dullest and most stressful of Kole’s life.

Underbrook had told Kole he’d have to take his final exam as soon as his Will poisoning faded. There was actually an official policy on the matter, the policy being zero tolerance. Students had used Will poisoning as an excuse to delay exams in the past, and the school had simply decided to draw a hard line. It was a rare enough occurrence that it only happened intentionally—or to the exceedingly wealthy and careless who pulled out all the stops to cram for a final exam. In the later case, the school didn’t have a lot of sympathy for the rich using their advantages to put themselves ahead.

Kole was stressed, because he knew he was going to fail, and bored because he couldn’t for the life of him do anything about it. With Will poisoning, he couldn’t access Will for anything. Even attempting to read a spellform gave him a splitting headache and resulted in him disrupting the intent in the spellform.

So, he read. He read about spellform construction theory, pathing techniques, and anything else he though might be helpful. His plan was to get ass prepared as he possibly could, so that the moment his ability to manipulate Will came back, he could crack out a new version of Thunderwave and then pass the test. He even spent almost all his coin to have a clarity potion at the ready to take before the test.

So, when Kole woke the next morning and was able to summon a cantrip light, he flopped right back down on his bed to get to work.

Sometime later, Zale was banging on his door.

“Professor Underbrook is looking for you,” she called.

“Flood,” he cursed.

He’d failed. He wasn’t close to completing this spell and had spent well over half his Will that morning in the desperate attempt.

Despondent, he rolled out of bed and drank the Will potion he bought. Not only was he going to fail, but now he had to waste that potion to even be able to cast two spells. His best hope now was that Underbrook would extend his leniency a little further.

Maybe if I cast Thunderwave twice, and then Shield he’ll let me pass. He knows I can cast Magic Missile, Kole thought, but knew it wasn’t likely.

He skipped breakfast, and lunch, and ran off to Professor Underbrook’s office.

“If it isn’t my favorite student!” Professor Underbrook said when Kole knocked.

Kole was taken aback by the comment and resisted the urge to look behind him.

“I’m your favorite student?” Kole asked.

“No, but I thought I’d flatter you,” Underbrook answered. “You had to go and ruin it by asking though. But, I am interested in seeing that Silent Image spell of yours, and you are top of the list of most interesting students—if you exclude my PREVENT groups. That Sleet Icecliff lived a fascinating life. You should get to know her.”

“Can we get this test over with?” Kole asked sullenly.

“Hmm, I take it from the tone you didn’t get that Thunderwave sorted out?”

Kole shook his head.

“Well, let's head to the spell range,” Underbrook said, extending a hand.

As soon as Kole touched his finger, Kole felt a pressure in his magical senses as Underbrook tried to bring him along in a Teleport.

Kole let the magic take him, and suddenly he was in a field.

“Where are we?” Kole asked, having expected to appear elsewhere in the Dahn.

“Welcome to the new spell range!” Professor Underbrook said with his typical flare, but his face was devoid of the emotion in his voice.

Sullenly he continued, “We had to seal off the spell ranges in the Dahn. They were a high-risk area.”

Kole looked around and noticed there were dummies set up at regular intervals, and behind them, a group of students were casting spells at them under some temporary canopies.

“Here’s as good as any,” Underbrook said, gesturing around.

“Cover your ears,” Kole said.

Underbrook cast a spell, and Kole felt him drawing on the Font of Sound.

Kole built the construct for Thunderwave in his mind, tracing the pattern he’d painstakingly built, taking pains to ignore the half-constructed version next to it.

The spell went out, and the power came back in an instant. The crack rang out in the field and echoed off the trees a moment later, adding to the cacophony, of the young wizards around him.

“Good job,” the professor said. “Next?

Kole asked leaned down, picked up a rock, and then threw it straight up in the air.

“Bo,” he said, lifting his hand to deflect the falling stone.

The rock struck the faintly visible barrier and fell to the ground beside Kole.

“I appreciate the fare,” Underbrook said. “But I could have fired a spell at you. What’s next?”

“I know Magic Missile, but I’m out of Will,” Kole explained. “I could cast another Thunderwave. Could that count? You know I know Magic Missile. Or maybe Silent Image?”

“You know sorcery doesn’t count,” Underbrook admonished him, not swayed by the spell he had wanted to see.

Kole considered casting Invisibility. Unlike Silent Image, no one knew about it, so it could have been a wizard spell as far as they knew. But, they could find out easy enough by asking him to impart the spell structure into a gem, and what would he do then? And besides, he’d had weekly meetings with Underbrook, he wouldn’t buy it for a moment that he did this in secret.

“Why don’t you just give Magic Missile a try?” Underbrook encouraged Kole.

“Alright,” Kole said.

Kole built the spell in his mind, spending roughly a fourth of his remaining Will as he built the spell. For a regular wizard, this would have been the end of the demand on his Will, but for Kole, it took an extra effort to open his bridge to a gate. Will he didn’t have.

In as sulkily of a manner as he could while still properly enunciating and imbuing the sound with Will, Kole said the words, “Roh-ta-ko.”

Verbal components were tied to the gate part of the spell, and he moved his bridge as he spoke. The bridge resisted, as usual, but Kole poured all his Will into the bridge, up to the point he expected to fall short, but then he kept going, and the gate snapped into place.

Three bolts flew out if his hand, and into the dirt in front of him, as he’d not even aimed, so low had his expectations been.

“What!?” Kole said, shocked.

He looked at his hand, turning it before him as if it had the answer.

“I thought that might work,” Underbrook said.

“Why?”

“Will poisoning,” Underbrook said, “It’s not something we tell students, but usually those who suffer it usually end up with a bit more Will to spend after.

“Why?” Kole asked again, like a small child.

“We don’t want to encourage the practice. Taking too many clarity potions can prove fatal, and prolonged Will poisoning can cause lasting harm.”

Kole’s mind had immediately gone to doing the math of what a week cost him in study, and how quickly the extra Will would help him catch up.

I got at least 2 extra, and lost a week…

He settled on one week every 140 days would see him progressing his Will capacity while maintaining the same amount to use for study. Then he realized that Underbrook might have had a point.

“Well, congratulations,” Underbrook said, shooting a magical light into the air that exploded into a burst of colors. “You pass! Now go see Lonin, he wanted to talk to you before you got on with your break.”

Kole stood nervously outside Lonin’s office, working up the nerve to knock. He’d had to walk back from the spell range—Underbrook having not elected to give him a ride back—and it had given him ample time to reflect on events.

He’d done it. After a massive head start as a child only to crash into a wall, he was a proper wizard now. At the age of 16, he had the unheard-of Will capacity that had to be close to 50, the knowledge of how to learn new spells, and now that he’d passed, the opportunity and time to learn them. Having three spells at his age was not the feat of a prodigy, only the gifted, but he was only getting started.

His dream to become an adventurer would happen—so long as he could find a mentor. And then, he’d start the search for his parents in earnest.

Mentor, He thought, looking at the door. Did he change his mind?

Before he could work up the courage to knock, the door opened.

“I’m sure you have a good reason to just stand outside my door, but I would prefer it if you came in,” Grand Master Lonin said, ushering Kole in toward a couch.

“Sorry sir,” Kole said. “I’m just in a bit of a shock from the morning.”

“Ah yes, Peabody told me you passed with an increased capacity. Congratulations.”

Peabody?” Kole asked, not recognizing the name.

“Oh, I mean Professor Underbrook,” Lonin said, “Don’t let it slip you know his name. He’s not fond of it.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Kole said, with a smile.

“Oh, it’s not because of why you’re thinking,” Lonin said, “It’s a human name. His parents weren’t the most educated and thought the name referred to a peapod. But let’s forget I let that slip and get onto what brings you here.”

“Have you reconsidered taking me on as an apprentice?” Kole asked, not expecting to like the answer.

“Have you reconsidered becoming an adventurer?” Professor Lonin asked back, with equally low expectations.

“No,” Kole said firmly. “I need to do this to help my parents. If I had failed… well, I would have considered working with you, becoming fabulously wealthy, and then hiring an adventuring team someday but I didn’t fail. And besides, recent events have suggested that I might actually have the knack for it.”

“I must say, you may just,” Lonin said. “And that is why I asked you here. To extend an offer. I know that you passed the first semester, and I know that you’d hoped that your showing in the PREVENT final might earn you the attention of a mentor. I’d like to formally offer you an apprenticeship.”

“I know we failed pretty bitterly, but I think I still have a chance,” Kole said. “Especially since I can now prove my case isn’t hopeless.”

“That you can, and I do expect you will be able to find someone to sponsor you, especially with what Tigereye and Underbrook have in mind to replace the dungeon, but I would like to make my case once more.

“You may find a mentor who will teach you the ways of being an adventuring wizard, but you will not find one that will be able to offer much insight into your means of spell casting. No one uses traditional wizardry anymore, and while I don’t personally delve into it, I am likely the leading expert in it due to the overlap of my own areas of focus.”

Professor Lonin’s focus on spellform theory was tangentially related to traditional wizardry at best, and if he was the leading expert in the field, then Kole likely was on his own. But was he?”

“I’ve met two wizards who studied the art,” Kole said, in a mix of protest and hope.

“Ah yes, that Tallen fellow, but where is he?” Lonin asked.

“He’s a bit unreliable,” Kole said, realizing the same could be said about Theral.

“Yes, well. I wanted to extend the offer now so we could spend the break catching you up on some of your fundamentals before switching your focus to theory from application.”

Kole considered it, really considered it. Could he? He could focus purely on wizardry. He could search for his parents, and then fund an expedition to save them. Or, he could take Lonin’s offer, and switch tracks at some point later on.

But, he didn’t want to do any of that. He thought back to the feeling he’d had in the dungeon when he’d saved people, and when they had helped that village of demonkin. He wanted more of that. He wanted to help people, not just his parents, but the world. His home only existed—or at least existed free of mind control from an outsider horror—because of the acts of adventurers. He wanted to do the same for others.

No, he couldn’t take what was being offered—even in deceit. Professor Lonin had only been helpful to him, even if he kept his distance, and he wouldn’t plan on betraying him either.

He would stay the course. Continue in PREVENT and hope to find a mentor. If he failed, then he would consider Lonin’s offers. It’s not like he’d get expelled for washing out of one class.

“I see you have made your mind up,” Lonin said, having been watching Kole through his introspection.

Kole nodded.

“Thank you for the offer, really, but I have to decline. I need to try, and if I fail, I hope you won’t take offense at being my plan B.”

“Not at all,” Lonin said magnanimously. “I wish you all the best, and only a tiny part of me hopes you fail.”

They shared a laugh, and Kole left the office of the headmaster of the school of wizardry feeling optimistic about his future.