Chapter 164: Magic Missile |
To Xavier’s shock, his mind didn’t explode the moment the Sorceress began drawing High Arcana into the air.
Which was being dramatic, but only to a degree. He wouldn’t be surprised if Vivisari Vexaria really did have spells of such complexity that a lesser mage would have their brain reduced to porridge should they try to study them.
But that wasn’t the case here. She had worked with the Headmaster to create spells that even a third-year could understand. And though Xavier wouldn’t blink if the Sorceress regularly overestimated the capabilities of her lessers, the Headmaster’s judgment would be more reasonable.
Indeed, he watched with interest as a familiar spellcircle came to life in large, glittering white-blue runes.
Familiar? It took him a second to realize why, which was perhaps a second too long. It’s a variation of [Magic Missile]!
Because why would the Sorceress present a unique spell? Using the most universal attack that close to every mage in the world knew would be the obvious starting point when teaching a classroom of varying abilities.
For a brief moment, he assumed the lesson would be easier than he’d expected. Then reality reasserted itself. With a few quick strokes, the simple spell veered so rapidly into the incomprehensible that he felt his expression collapse into dismay.
There was nothing quite as demoralizing as hope swelling only to be instantly crushed.
Yep, I’ve never seen a third of those runes in my life.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the Sorceress stopped scribbling. It wasn’t as complex as he feared it might’ve become. The changes built into [Magic Missile] were straightforward enough, grafted on more than interwoven throughout every aspect of the blueprint. Which no doubt reduced its strength, but the Sorceress had stated she was beginning with something easy.
While memorizing a design and repeatedly attempting invocation could technically work with enough effort, understanding helped considerably. Like trying to draw a picture of an exotic animal: easier if he’d seen the subject in real life. Observing the actual thing gave the volume behind the two-dimensional impression.
Thus, it came as no surprise when the Sorceress said, “I’ll explain, of course. The strategy that I’ve found most effective is something I’ll liken to friction. Rather than nullification or destruction, void energy appears to slip past classical magic and other forces in a manner similar to how skates might glide over ice. But with higher efficiency, to the point that even voidlings can resist mages beneath Titled.
“The theory is supported by how overpowering their defenses does work and seems to scale proportionally rather than by a flat amount, as an absorption effect might. With that observation in mind, I attempted to introduce as much friction as possible. Though it’s perhaps backwards to think of the skates as the defense and the ice beneath them as the attack, it’s a fruitful frame of reference. Creating that so-called friction is where things become more interesting, and also more esoteric. Hence the unusual rune choices. If you don’t recognize them, that is to be expected.
“We used a variety of techniques. Not one approach but many mixed together. Extending the metaphor, both bumps and spikes added onto the ice rather than one or the other. Let me begin by describing each integration…”
Xavier paid studious attention, though his head began to throb before a minute had elapsed. The Sorceress defined each rune and explained each concept in reasonably digestible terms. He took notes, but trying to peer beyond the surface and form his own understanding was the hard part. The same with any magic. Language would always be insufficient; metaphors were lanterns to guide the way. It was a well-known fact that everyone came to their own conclusions on the fundamental truth hidden in the dark. No interpretations were correct, only less wrong.
“These are just a few methods,” the Sorceress said, having concluded her initial description of the void-resistant [Magic Missile]. “By all means, please experiment or theorize to your heart’s content. Today’s goal is to give you a starting point, however, and I would like to see how many of you can reach invocation. Only once the [Minor Illusion] is mastered should you move to the [Major Illusion]. Now, observe.”
Finally, she allowed the spellcircle to finish taking shape. Xavier felt mana thrum through the air, though not much. No more than an ordinary tier-one spell. A bolt of arcane energy materialized, then streaked toward the voidling that had remained frozen in place.
He kept his senses honed, but he gained little insight from how the bolt pierced black carapace and exploded outward. No gore followed; the beasts were constructed entirely of that polished dark material, just of different hues and vibrancy. It was closer to breaking a statue than killing a monster.
Perhaps the Grand Magi were skilled enough to observe a spell and learn how it worked, but such a feat was beyond a third-year. Archmage Aeris made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat, so there was at least one person who found the demonstration useful.
The Sorceress idly swished her hand—not even her staff this time—and the voidling disappeared. She would probably drag out another of the beasts when she needed a new target.
“Now, then. Any questions?”
Archmage Theophania shot her hand up, as eager as any other student in Xavier's own classes, and it was a display so discordant with the title of Archmage that his brain hiccuped for the twentieth time that hour.
“Go ahead,” Vivisari said.
“I have six,” the half-elf said brightly. She raised a forefinger, counting them off. “First—”
As it turned out, the clarifications the lead researcher of the Thaumaturgical Institute wanted weren’t the kind that helped Xavier. He thought he’d been treading water, having formed a simplistic idea of how this friction the Sorceress had described might work, but that understanding began to splinter as Theophania intently queried the short demon.
Vivisari met Theophania’s eagerness with her typical calmness, but perhaps saw the lost expressions on the lower-years’ faces, and probably many of the Grand Magi’s too. “I’m happy to share my thoughts further,” she told the half-elf eventually. “But let’s begin attempting invocation. Magic is as intuitive as it is intellectual.”
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Her gaze swept across the floating lecture hall, and she nodded—then raised her staff.
“The Headmaster and I will both be watching for spell destabilization, so don’t be concerned,” she said as she worked some magic and the platform holding them aloft expanded. “Give it your best effort.”
As usual, Archmage Aeris rose from his seat and hobbled off to find a place to cast first, thus prompting the rest of the mages to follow his lead. Nobody wanted to use magic at their desk, after all; they needed room to breathe. Xavier slipped out, following Tatiana to the right, with Saffra and Isabella behind him.
A vague sense of queasiness infused his stomach as he looked down through the transparent blue barrier supporting them. Walking on glass a mile above the ground would make anyone uneasy. Did she have to make it see-through? Obviously, he wasn’t going to share the complaint with the Sorceress.
He wondered if the people of Prishmarche could see their gathering. There could be an [Illusion] masking them so as not to cause a disturbance, but Xavier didn’t know. He didn’t have the necessary perception. Same issue as before.
“Well, that was interesting,” Tatiana said, clapping her hands. “Who’s going first?”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Isabella said politely. “But you’re staying with us? You don’t intend to find partners more suitable to your level?”
Xavier had been wondering that too. Tatiana was three years higher, not to mention the best of her cohort. He wouldn’t be surprised if she could keep up with some of the Grand Magi when it came to scholarly matters. Certainly, she could walk into any gathering of regular magi without drawing an annoyed look for intruding. She outleveled many of them. The sole reason she didn’t bear the title herself was that she hadn’t graduated yet.
Which was almost a higher accolade.
The older girl shrugged. “Don’t think it matters much. Plus Master Aeris is here. We’ll be able to ask him our questions later.”
The word ‘we’ briefly puzzled Xavier, then startled him as he remembered. Because Isabella is Archmage Aeris’s apprentice too. He had known that, just hadn’t thought about it. Both of them being the same man’s students explained the ease with which Tatiana had walked up and talked with the younger girl. And also with Saffra, seeing how the beastkin could often be found at the blonde’s shoulder. He hadn’t made that connection. This probably wasn’t any of their first meetings.
“I’m more interested in hearing what he has to say than anyone else,” she continued, “and until then, I wanna see what I can figure out myself.”
“I see,” Isabella said thoughtfully. “That does make sense.”
Tatiana turned to him. “If no one’s volunteering, I vote Xavier. No pressure, now.”
Xavier cocked his head, then faced Saffra. “I’m sorry, do you hear something?”
Saffra blinked in confusion.
“I’ve recently disowned a sister of mine for repeated acts of psychological violence,” he elaborated. “The buzzing noise might have been her, so I need to make sure.”
Tatiana snickered. “Don’t be a sore loser. The look on your face was awesome, and it’s a rite of passage at this point.”
“A rite of passage?”
She thankfully wasn’t annoying enough to point out that he’d already stopped ‘ignoring’ her. “You were caught off guard in a public setting, boo-hoo. She didn’t even notice or care. Wanna know how I met the Sorceress?”
Xavier stared. He hadn’t known she had. But seeing how the mage of the Party of Heroes had only publicly returned a few days ago, the event must have been kept a secret.
“How did you?” he asked curiously.
“She came to talk with Master Aeris during a training session of ours. He opened the door and looked like he’d seen a ghost, so I pointed my staff and all but started threatening her.” Her cheeks colored even as she laughed at herself. “I’ll tell you, I damn near—” She cleared her throat. “Well, I embarrassed myself more than you did. So relax.”
A smile had twitched onto Isabella’s lips. “I was trapped in an alternate dimension, and she teleported right in front of me. Then took out an entire wall when a voidbeast attacked.” She laughed in that way of noble ladies, a hand covering her mouth. She’d always been very refined. The exception being when Saffra pestered her sufficiently, which was admittedly most days. “Your reaction was funny. I can see how it’s a rite of passage.”
Saffra sighed. “She has a habit of dramatic entrances. I don’t even think it’s intentional most of the time.”
Xavier was digesting the two miniature stories he’d been given, but at Saffra’s inclusion, he fixed his gaze on the redhead yet again. He understood how Master Aeris’s apprentice might have run into the Sorceress, as well as Isabella, whose exact situation was murky but undoubtedly intertwined given the fate of Duke Caldimore and subsequent events.
But Saffra’s comment didn’t imply a story; it implied familiarity.
It can’t be, he thought, that theory once more emerging. It’s completely absurd.
Saffra saw his stare and winced. “S-so,” she hastily said. “You’re going first? I can, if you want.”
Without allowing him a chance to respond, she pulled out her staff and began casting. Clearly fleeing the look he was giving her.
Which was more evidence by itself.
Far from the first time that day, he needed to wrangle his focus back, no matter how flabbergasted. Thankfully, mages were very good at that. Managing one’s attention was crucial to all adventurers, but particularly those of magical disciplines. Warriors could rely on muscle memory, but mages needed to carefully etch out diagrams of excruciating precision—where failure meant spell collapse and catastrophic consequences.
Indeed, even now, mages of various ranks were pulling together arcane diagrams all around them, creating a cacophony to his magical senses. He filtered it out automatically. It was a skill drilled heavily during their first year.
He watched Saffra furrow her brow and begin drawing the spellcircle that hovered in a large illusion above the lecture hall’s stage. Even from the side, the illusion appeared as direct as if he were viewing it head-on.
Xavier’s eyebrows rose as runes gathered and formed. Nobody could see a design and imitate it on first attempt, except perhaps an archmage. Learning any spell demanded time and effort, even if it were many tiers below a person's level.
So it was a flawed reproduction. Even he could see that. But it was far, far better than he had expected from a fellow third-year. He knew without making his own attempt that he would look grossly clumsy in comparison.
Saffra had always been at the top of their class when it came to practical spellcasting, even better than Isabella, but… she’d gotten that much better?
With some dismay, he thought, I would’ve assumed being kicked out of the Institute would have slowed her down. That didn’t seem to be the case. So he would be outclassed by all three of them, then, though he’d already expected that.
The spell finalized, and collapsed. Not a fraction of a second passed before the magic was devoured by a [Dispel]. Xavier couldn’t even tell who’d done it. Neither the Headmaster nor the Sorceress looked their way.
The latter, in fact, was engaged in discussion with an animated Archmage Theophania. The half-elf was all but vibrating with excitement, gesticulating wildly as she mined the knowledge of the eminent magical power in the human kingdoms.
Which was fair. He'd be interested too, if he were a mage at the near peak of mortal casting ability and suddenly had access to someone who could make him look like a novice again.
“Ah,” Saffra said. “Shoot.”
Tatiana seemed impressed. “Not bad—seriously. But here’s what I saw that needs straightening out…”
Taking turns wasn’t a waste of time; it took an immense amount of concentration to construct any spellcircle, to say nothing of ones a person had no experience with. Even higher-level mages would need a break before trying again. And though there might not be much insight to glean from watching amateur mages mess up their diagrams, feedback helped. It was a rare caster who knew exactly what they’d done wrong without fail, and outside perspectives accelerated the path to mastery.
And so it went: after Saffra’s attempt, Xavier was next, then Isabella, and last Tatiana. Unsurprisingly, the eldest among them performed best, though still failed to stabilize the spellcircle on her first try. He didn’t think it would be long before she grasped it though. It wasn’t a new spell, but a variation of a simple one. He doubted it would even appear as a unique entry in his grimoire, but instead as an alternate on the same page.
The practice session felt so familiar that, for a moment, he forgot where he was. Thus, it was a fresh shock when, with no warning, the Sorceress walked up as he began to cast, her apathetic red gaze focused solely on him.