Mother of Learning: ARC 1

3

“It will be an extended visit,” she said. “We’ll be there for about six months, most of it spent traveling from one place to another. You and Fortov will be at the academy, of course, but I’m worried about Kirielle. She’s only nine and I don’t feel comfortable bringing her along with us.”

Zorian winced internally, finally catching on to what she wanted of him. Hell. No.

“Mother, I’m fifteen,” he protested.

“So?” she asked. “Your father and I were already married when we were your age.”

“Times change. Besides, I spend most of the day at the academy,” Zorian responded. “Why don’t you ask Fortov to take care of her? He’s a year older and he has his own apartment.”

“Fortov is in his fourth year,” his mother said sternly. “He’s going to graduate this year so he has to focus on his grades.”

"You mean he said no," Zorian concluded out loud.

“And besides…,” she continued, ignoring his remark, “I’m sure you’re aware of how irresponsible Fortov can be at times. I don’t think he’s fit to raise a little girl.”

“And whose fault is that?” Zorian grumbled quietly, loudly dropping his spoon and pushing the plate away from him. Maybe Fortov was irresponsible because he knew Mother and Father would simply dump his responsibilities onto Zorian if he just played dumb long enough. Didn’t that ever occur to her? Why did it always fall to him to deal with the little imp? Well, he wasn’t going to get saddled with this! If Fortov was too good to take care of Kirielle, then so was Zorian!

Plus, the little tattletale would undoubtedly report everything he did back to Mother without a second thought. The best thing about attending a school so far from home was that he could do whatever he wanted with his family being none the wiser, and there was no way he was going to give that up. Really, this was just a transparent ploy by his mother to spy on him, so she could lecture him some more about family pride and proper manners.

“I don’t think I’m fit for that either,” continued Zorian a little louder. “You said only a few minutes ago that I’m an embarrassment to the family. We wouldn’t want to corrupt little Kiri with my uncaring attitude, now would we?”

“I didn’t—”

“No!” Zorian shouted, cutting his mother off before she could argue otherwise.

“Oh, have it your way,” she huffed in resignation. “But really, I wasn’t suggesting—”

“What are you talking about?” Kirielle called out from behind him.

“We were discussing what a rotten brat you are,” Zorian shot back.

“No you weren’t!”

Zorian just rolled his eyes and rose from his seat, intending to go to the bathroom, only to find an irate little sister blocking his path. Really, what was up with her today?

Fortunately, that was the moment there came a knock, and all three of them turned in surprise to the house door, set in the far wall of the room.

“I’ll get it,” Zorian muttered after a brief pause, knowing that Mother would demand that one of them open the door and that Kirielle wouldn’t budge from her spot any time soon. She could be very stubborn when she wanted.

That was how Zorian found himself staring at a bespectacled woman with neatly-cut brown hair, dressed in a khaki-colored suit of obviously-expensive make, and cradling a thick book in her arm.

The woman gave him an appraising glance, adjusting her glasses. “Zorian Kazinski?”

“Uh, yeah?” he said, unsure how to react to this development.

“I am Ilsa Zileti, from Cyoria’s Royal Academy of Magical Arts. I’m here to discuss the results of your certification.”

Zorian could feel the blood drain from his face. They sent an actual mage to talk to him!? What did he do to warrant this!? Mother was going to skin him alive!

“You aren’t in trouble, Mister Kazinski,” she said, smiling in amusement. “The academy has a habit of sending a representative to third year students to discuss various matters of interest. I confess I should have visited you sooner, but I have been a tad busy this year. You have my apologies.”

Zorian stared at her for a few seconds.

“May I come in? I’ve always felt rather awkward lingering on a stoop…”

“Huh? Oh!” said Zorian. “Forgive my manners, Miss Zileti. Come in, come in.”

“Thank you,” she accepted politely, stepping into the house.

After a quick introduction of his mother and sister, Ilsa asked Zorian if he had somewhere they could discuss school matters privately. Mother—as astute as she could be insufferable—quickly decided she had to go to the town market, taking Kirielle with her. Zorian was left alone in the house with the mage, who promptly scattered various papers across the kitchen desk.

“So, Zorian,” she began. “You already know you passed the certification.”

“Yes, I got the written notice,” Zorian said. “Cirin doesn’t have a mage tower, so I was going to pick up the badge when I got back to Cyoria.”

Ilsa simply handed him a sealed scroll. Zorian inspected the scroll for a few seconds and then tried to break the seal so he could read it. Unfortunately, the seal was quite tough to break. Unnaturally so, even.

He frowned. Ilsa wouldn’t have given him the scroll like this if she didn’t think he had the ability to open it. A test of some sort? He wasn’t anyone terribly special, so this would have to be something pretty easy. What skill did every recently-minted mage possess that would…

Oh. He almost rolled his eyes when he realized what this was all about. He channeled some mana into the seal and it promptly snapped itself in half, allowing Zorian to finally unroll the scroll. It was written in very neat calligraphy and appeared to be some kind of proof of his identity as a first circle mage. He glanced back at Ilsa, who nodded approvingly, confirming to Zorian that he had just passed a test of some sort.

“You don’t really have to pick up your badge until you finish school,” she said. “The badge is pretty expensive and nobody is going to bother you about it unless you plan to open a shop or otherwise sell your magical expertise. If you get questioned about it, just refer them to the academy and we’ll clear things up.”