Mother of Learning: ARC 1

8

He was pleasantly surprised at the sheer number of spells and training manuals available to a first circle mage. There were more books and spells than he could master in a lifetime. Most of the spells were either highly situational or minor variations of each other, so he didn’t feel the need to obsessively learn all of them, but he could already see this place would keep him busy all year round. A lot of them looked surprisingly easy and harmless, and he couldn’t help but wonder why they were kept on the restricted level instead of being available to everyone. These could have been useful during second year.

He had skimmed the contents of several tomes in search of the rain barrier the academy incorporated into its ward scheme when he realized he had skipped breakfast and was getting awfully hungry, and that it was past noon. Reluctantly, he checked out a couple books to pore over in depth in the safety of his room and went to get something to eat.

There was no kitchen in his room, sadly, but the academy had a decent cafeteria available to students. The food they offered was cheap yet surprisingly edible. Still, it was something of a poor man’s option, and most of the richer kids ventured out to eat in one of the many restaurants in the vicinity of the academy, rather than subject themselves to the dingy cafeteria. Expecting the familiar worn-down tables and chairs that didn’t sit flat, Zorian’s steps slowed in surprise as he entered the cafeteria. It was positively sparkling. New tables. New chairs. Freshly polished flooring. It was weird to see the place so… clean.

Shaking his head, he quickly loaded a couple plates on his tray, idly noting the cooks were a lot less stingy with the meat and other expensive parts of the dish than he remembered, and then started scanning the present students for familiar faces. Clearly something was happening here, and he hated being left outside the loop.

“Zorian! Over here!”

How fortunate. Zorian immediately set off towards the chubby boy gesturing for him to come over. Zorian had learned over the years that his exuberant classmate was firmly plugged into the academy gossip network, and knew pretty much everything and everyone. If anyone would know what was going on, it would be Benisek.

“Hello, Ben,” Zorian said, placing his food tray on the table Benisek was using. He sat opposite of the other boy so they could face each other as they talked. “I’m surprised to see you in Cyoria so soon. Don’t you usually come with the last train?”

“I should be asking you that!” Benisek half shouted. Zorian never understood why the boy had to be so loud all the time. “I came here so early but you’re already here!”

“You came back two days before classes start, Ben,” Zorian said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the other boy. Only Benisek would think that coming a couple days early was some great feat worth mentioning. “That’s not all that early. And I just got back yesterday.”

Being pretty hungry, Zorian took an opportunity to shove a forkful of green peas and fried potatoes into his mouth while he listened to Benisek’s response. The peas were noticeably undercooked and the potatoes were very dry, and both could use a little more salt, but overall it was the level of quality that Zorian was used to receiving in the academy cafeteria.

“So did I,” Benisek said. He wordlessly handed Zorian a salt shaker, as if reading his mind. “Damn. If you had contacted me, we could have arranged to travel together or something. You must have been bored out of your mind here, all alone for a whole day.”

“Something like that.” Zorian smiled politely, carefully separating the onions to one side of the plate so they wouldn’t contaminate the rest of his meal, then liberally salting the rest.

“So, are you excited?” Benisek asked, suddenly changing the topic.

“About what?” Zorian asked. Funny, hadn’t Kirielle asked him the exact same question?

“The start of a new year! We’re third-years now. That’s when the real fun starts.”

Zorian blinked. To his knowledge, Benisek wasn’t terribly concerned about his success in the arcane arts. He already had a guaranteed post in his family business, and was here simply to obtain the prestige of being a licensed mage. Zorian had half expected him to drop out immediately following certification, yet here he was, just as excited as Zorian to finally start delving into the real mysteries of magic. Zorian felt a twinge of guilt for writing Ben off so quickly. He really shouldn’t be so presumptuous…

“Oh, that. Of course I’m excited. Though I must admit I never knew you actually cared about your education.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Benisek, eying him strangely. “The girls, man, I’m talking about the girls. The younger ones love upperclassmen like us! The new batch of first-years will be all over us.”

Zorian groaned. He should have known.

“Anyway,” said Zorian, recovering quickly, “since I know you’re always gossiping around—”

“Informing myself about the current state of things,” Benisek cut in, his voice assuming a mock-lecturing quality.

“Right. What’s with the academy being all sparkly and clean all of a sudden?”

Benisek blinked. “You didn’t know? Oh man, people have been talking about this for months! Just which rock do you live under, Zorian?”

“Cirin is a glorified village in the middle of nowhere… as you very well know,” Zorian said. “Now spill.”

“It’s the summer festival,” Benisek said. “The whole city is getting ready for it, not just the academy.”

“But there’s a summer festival every year,” Zorian said, confused.

“Yeah, but this year is special.”

“Special?” Zorian asked. “How?”

“I don’t know, some astrological bullshit,” Benisek said, waving his hand dismissively. “Why does it matter? It’s an excuse to have an even bigger party than usual. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, I say.”

“Astro—” began Zorian with a quirked eyebrow when something occurred to him. “Wait, you mean planetary alignment?”

“Yeah, that,” Benisek agreed. “What’s that anyway?”

“Do you have a couple of hours?”

“On second thought, I don’t want to know,” Benisek backpedaled, chuckling nervously. He stabbed his fork into a pile of fried potatoes and resumed eating. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Zorian snorted. So easy to scare. The truth was that Zorian knew very little about planar alignments, and he probably couldn’t speak about it for more than thirty seconds. It was a pretty obscure topic. Zorian strongly suspected that Benisek was right, and that it was being used simply as an excuse to have a bigger party.

He was hungry, though. They both focused on the food in front of them for a while.

“So, what did you do over the summer?” Benisek eventually asked.

Zorian groaned. “Ben, you sound like my elementary school literature teacher. ‘Now, children, for your homework you will write a short essay about what you did during the summer holidays.’”

“I’m just being polite,” Benisek said, eying his empty glass for a few seconds before eventually deciding to do nothing to refill it. Probably too lazy to walk to the nearest water tank. “No need to snap at me because you wasted your summer away.”

“Oh, and you spent it productively?” Zorian challenged.

“Well, not voluntarily,” Benisek admitted sheepishly. “Father decided it was time I start learning the family craft, so I spent all summer helping him and acting as his assistant.”

“Oh.”