Alchemical Magic

Chapter 2-1

2

Professor Alarch wasn't a battlemage.

I thought most dark mages were battlemages. I know, I know; somebody has to do all those safety spells we use in alchemy labs, right? But I kinda thought they use low-level mages for that.

And that the strongest dark mages are all battle mages. Professor Alarch was an artifactor, who produced different safety devices for banks and buildings.

But he fulfilled the stereotype of the battlemage to a t. He was broad-shouldered, tall, his black hair cut in a crew cut (do all the army guys go to the same barber?), and he walked with the confidence of a general.

I wondered what he was doing as a Professor. He could probably make more money in the private industry (I heard he owned a patent to a protective artifact that is used in most banks).

But meanwhile, he was walking among us, between the desks separated by a yard (for safety reasons). The acrid smoke of the cheaper gas burners and the lack of fresh air due to the absence of windows made his dark figure, surrounded in shadows, seem more menacing, especially when he leaned over somebody, covering their only source of light.

The room, filled with twenty students (that's the max for magical classes for safety reasons), had reinforced concrete walls three feet wide, and metallic doors that, if sealed, could prevent the flow of oxygen into the class (they take fire safety very seriously here).

I felt a bit suffocated, despite the ventilating system working fine (I checked; the vents are standard, and there's good air flow). Even the security of the alchemy buildings, infamous for being strict, wasn't comparable to what we had here.

Which made you wonder why all that security was needed.

"Mr. Gwylan!" Professor Alarch's booming voice shouted as the cane came hard on the table, with a thumping noise that would have startled me if I wasn't so used to it by now (five hours of him, and I'm getting the hang of it). "Stop that right now!"

Maybe Professor Alarch enjoyed torturing newbies.

As Sidney Gwylan, my guilty classmate, hurriedly dissolved the magic spell he was creating (I don't think he understood what he did wrong, the poor guy), Professor Alarch started explaining to all of us what poor Sidney did wrong.

It turns out poor Sidney almost blew all of us to smithereens.

Which wouldn't be such a rare thing, actually; one out of twenty mages die before they receive their seal.

Hence, the security precautions.

Alchemy was much less lethal.

Makes you question the intelligence of everybody in the room (except me, that is; I didn't volunteer for this). But then, their stupidity (or courage, as they like to call it), can be excused by their male chromosome.

I'm the only female in this class. In Professor Alarch's opinion, that meant I shouldn't be here at all.

Whatever. I'm not one to obey authority.

Besides, it's not like I have a choice. If I could undo my Initiation, I wouldn't be here in the first place.

So I returned to the task at hand, creating a protective artifact by making the silver-mercury amalgam pattern drawn on the piece of rock in front of me absorb the magical spell I was creating. Which was going better than it was for poor Sidney (I wasn't exploding anything), but not that much better.

My visualization skills were good, as I could see down to the smallest thread of magic (after lots of training with grandpa, that is; the last few months hadn't gone in vain).

But the fact that I could see the magic didn't mean I could use it.

Or control it. Anything more complex than pumping a shitload of magic into some simple form (a shield, a fireball, or a ray of magic) was beyond my capabilities.

And this exercise was about making something more sophisticated than a fireball. Of course, the preparations that were done before, where I drew the amalgam on the rock, helped.

The shape of the image itself, and the ratio of silver to mercury, if done well, help with the creation of the artifact. And that first part was the easiest for me: as an alchemist, I'd prepared hundreds of such blanks for dark mages. This is why when Professor Alarch examined mine, he grunted, saying nothing (I think that's high praise coming from him; he lambasted every other student).

But the second part, where actual magic was involved… Well, it wasn't going very well. Thankfully, it wasn't going very well for my classmates, either.

"Bedwen!" I heard the Professors' yell in my ear. I immediately dissolved what I was doing, standing up to face him.

One trick when talking to a dark mage: never let them have any advantage you can deny them. Including the advantage of being physically above a person.

"Yes, sir?" I asked, at the same eye level as he was.

"Who is your Master?" he asked, holding my gaze, his body language confrontational. Leaning in, his face barely inches away from mine, his hands in front of his chest, his feet separated; a fighting stance.

"Major Craen, sir," I said, careful not to be too confrontational, but yielding no physical ground. He was more senior than I was, after all. "Mervin Craen. And Professor David Bedwen."

"I've heard you have a light mage as a Master," Professor Alarch said, "but you have another Master, too? That is highly unusual."

"Yes, sir," I replied. "The Magical Tribunal decided it would be for the best, sir."

"So you already got in trouble, eh?" he asked, with a smirk. "That's about what I'd expect from a woman."

"With respect."

No, actually, I feel no respect at all.

"Sir, I'm your student. Not a woman. Just a mage."

"You look like a woman to me," he said, staring at my breasts in a way that would get anybody but a senior dark mage slapped. I breathed, centering myself.

There are limits to what I'm willing to tolerate.

"Would you like to test it, sir?" I asked. "By the end of the year, say — at the arena?"

That's right, I'm challenging a Professor to a duel.

"Why at the end of the year?" he asked.

"Because I still need to learn how to kick your a*s, sir. Respectfully," I said, and heard a bunch of snickers around me.

Professor Alarch looked around, and the snickers quieted. Although I could see everybody was paying attention.

"That's right, Miss Bedwen. You still need to learn, and it's good that you remember it. As for the duel — come back at me when you have a mages' seal. I don't accept challenges from apprentices."

Well, at least he called me Miss.

"I'll remember that, sir," I said. It wasn't a threat. I just told him I wouldn't tolerate such treatment. And then I gave him an out, a chance to retreat gracefully (it's never a good idea to corner somebody stronger than you). "Could you tell me what I was doing wrong, sir?"

"Ah, yes, Miss Bedwen," he said, his body language no longer menacing, his eyes firmly at my eye level. He took the out. "You were making the loop on the left," he pointed at the blackboard where he'd drawn the design we were supposed to use, "too big."

"Thank you, sir," I said, sitting into the chair, not looking at him anymore.

He left, going to harass another student.

By the end of the class, I hadn't been able to do anything. Thankfully, none of my classmates were, either. Professor Alarch looked around the class and sighed.

"I've never seen such a talentless bunch of newbies," he said.

I'm sure he says that to every class he gets.

"Take your blanks home and practice the magic with your Master. Bring them by next week. Just remember; don't do this alone," he said, looking around.

And he left, leaving us in the class. My classmates circled around, to share opinions and gossip.

"Easy for him to say," Sidney said. "Practice with the Master. I only ever see my Master once per month."

"Me, too," the guy next to me said. "Most Masters don't like teaching too much."

There were many groans in the class, all in the same vein.

"And what about you, Dana?" Sidney asked. "I've heard you have two Masters — do you get more attention?"

Everybody else stared at me with curiosity.

I was on delicate ground here. I'm the only woman here, an alchemist, and an apprentice with two Masters. I was already too much of an outsider. The rest of the students had been politely ignoring me as is.

"Having two Masters just means each of them thinks the other should do the work," I said, "so I see them half of what you guys see yours."

Yes, I lied unashamedly. So what? I'm a dark arall. I'm not one of those light weirdos that have scruples about lying. Lying is good. Lying greases the wheels of social interactions and prevents the use of fists. Isn't it better to lie than to have to punch a guy for being too obnoxious?

"Yeah, that would be typical," Sidney said, with a bright smile. "You're alright for a girl. Do you want to come for a beer?"

I considered it. I was supposed to have a class with Grandpa tonight, another Control and Visualization training.

But the geezers had already encroached on my life enough. Hell, even the dates with Jack happened under their control.

I had to rebel. Besides, I needed to meet dark mages. I couldn't afford to be an outsider.

Dark mages have no friends, but they sure as hell have outcasts.

"Sure," I said, "a beer sounds great."