Chapter 21:

It took Stryg over an hour to get his breathing under control. His lungs burned, and his breath was still ragged, but he managed to stand. He cursed under his breath. How was he supposed to have known what he had been doing? No one told him to not get angry or feel anything for that matter.

Well, the professor did say to empty your mind. That means feeling nothing, idiot, a small part of his mind nudged.

“Just another failure to the list,” he sighed.

Stryg shook his head. He was tired of keeping track. It didn’t matter how many failures he made, so long as he succeeded in the end. So long as he got back up, he hoped. “The strongest get what they want, so be the strongest,” he repeated First Mother’s mantra. He needed to be strong… even if he felt weak. For now he just needed to rest. His body was in no shape to be moving around.

*Ding-dong, Ding-Dong* The school bells rang. It was time for his next class. Fuck.

Stryg ended up dragging his feet to the next class, stumbling through the door of a large stone courtyard. Brick walls 10 feet tall surrounded the area. They were decorated with magic symbols and red and brown magestones.

Stryg’s whole class was already inside the courtyard. He was late of course. But, for once he wasn’t the only one. As Stryg looked around he noticed something was wrong.

“Where’s the professor?” One of the girls in class asked.

Stryg sighed in relief, maybe he wasn’t late after all. He made his way to the corner of the courtyard and plopped down to the floor. He leaned back and tried to rest while he could.

---

Most of the students just stood around the courtyard waiting. The middle and high-class students conversed with one another, conveniently ignoring the few commoners in the class. Kithina wasn’t about to let that stop her. She made a beeline towards Callum, the handsome half-vampire. She was determined to be friends, and who knows, maybe something more?

“Good morning, Callum! How have you been?” Kithina smiled as bright as she could.

Callum returned the gesture, albeit less enthusiastically, “Good morning, I’ve been doing fine.”

Kithina waited a moment but Callum said nothing more. That was it? He wasn’t going to ask her how she was doing? “I wonder where the professor is. Shouldn’t they be here by now?” Ktihina pushed forward.

“Yes,” Callum said without even looking at her.

“Um, yeah. Hopefully they get here soon…” Kithina felt like shouting in frustration. This wasn’t how people had a conversation, dammit!

“Soooo… How’s the weather been? I, uh, heard that vampires don’t do very well in sunlight.” And that surely wasn’t the right thing to say. Kithina knew it the moment she said the words, but her mouth kept moving in panic. “We were out on the track this morning, and,” she looked up to the sky, “It looks pretty sunny to me, hehe.” Shit, shit, shit. What was she implying? That he shouldn’t be here? A son of a great house? Her, a commoner, insulting him? What was wrong with her? Did she want her family to be singled out and killed? Because that’s how you got your family killed.

Callum squinted as if trying to guage if she was rude or plain stupid. “It’s true vampires can’t tolerate much sunlight. Too much exposure can cause serious injuries. The sun was only rising this morning at the track. As for right now, a vampire can handle an hour out in the sun just fine. I’m half human, so this is nothing to me.”

“Oh, yeah,” she laughed awkwardly. “Right, cool, cool.”

“Hm.” Callum scratched the back of his neck. “You know. You don’t have to tiptoe around it. I’m a hybrid, simple as that.”

Kithina raised her hands in panic, “Oh, no that’s not what I meant! I don’t care what you are! Wait, I mean, I do care. About you. Wait, no, that came out wrong. I mean I care about you as a friend?” She smiled with uncertainty.

Callum stared at her in silence.

Kithina sighed, “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t care if you’re a hybrid or not,” she muttered in shame. “Sorry, I just… wanted to get to know my project partner a bit more. Be friends or whatever. Heh, sounds dumb when I say it out loud. Sorry, I, um, I’ll leave you alone.” She turned away.

“Well, if you want, we can get to know each other over some lunch at the dining hall. I admit I am in need of friends,” Callum said.

Kithina turned back around in surprise.

“And don’t worry, I may drink blood, but I eat regular food too,” he smirked.

“Oh, I’d never think that you’d-” Wait, was he implying that he might drink her blood? Kithina blushed.

“Ok, kids, stop standing around like a bunch of idiots and line up!” A drow woman shouted from the gate.

She was walking in sandals and wore a tight pair of black pants and a red loose blouse. The drow looked like a daughter of a named house out on an evening stroll through the gardens. But, she wore the same silver necklace as the other professors, save hers had three gems, an amber, a grey moonstone, and an onyx. Kithina assumed she was the teacher. Some of the students looked at the drow questioningly.

“Who are you?” A human student asked.

A dark shadow shot from the drow, grabbed the student and flung him against the wall.

“I’m the one who says bend over and you're the one who says how low,” the drow woman retorted, hands on her hips.

The other students rushed to form a line, without paying attention to the human laying on the floor unconscious. Stryg staggered to his feet and hurried to line up with the rest.

“I’m not here to waste time with you lot. I’m here to ensure you don’t get yourselves killed in the first five minutes of battle. Magi are still people and an arrow to the face kills us just as easy as the next guy. You may call me Loh,” the drow said.

Nora, another human, raised her hand. “Professor Loh, is that guy oka-”

“Put your hand down. No questions. And I said call me Loh, not professor. I’m not a fan of the title,” Loh snapped.

Nora looked down in embarrassment, or maybe fear, Stryg wasn’t sure. Kithina thought she was amazing; Loh commanded the room, power in the palm of her hand, and she did it in style.

“Normally, I’d have you all already dueling one another to sharpen your skills. But, it's our first session and you haven’t even begun your chromatic classes, I doubt any of you can cast the simplest of spells yet.” Loh clapped her hands, “So, I’ll explain some of the basics, then we can begin the duels.”

“Loh? As in Loh Noir? The Loh Noir?” Callum whispered in surprise.

Kithina glanced up at Callum, who stood next to her. “You know her?”

Callum shook his head subtly. “Not personally. I know of a famous mage duelist in Hollow Shade. She’s said to defeat all her opponents with ease and without mercy. Loh of house Noir, greatest mage family in the whole city. I’m not sure if that’s her, but if I’m right, we may all be in trouble,” he whispered.

Kithina looked at the mage with newfound fear.

“There are two kinds of magic users. Magi like us and natural magic users like drakes,” Loh began. “Natural magic users have two major differences with magi. The first being that they can use magic from birth. The second is their ability to modify the amount of mana they use while simultaneously creating magic. For example, drakes do this while breathing fire. They adjust the amount of fire elemental mana they are streaming through their bodies, allowing them to modify the size and heat of their flame as it comes out of their mouth. Their fire breath is volatile, it can change at a thought. “

“Magi cannot replicate this feat. We cannot adjust our stream of mana at all while using magic, no matter how much we train. Think of it like throwing a rock and then trying to change the rock for a pebble while it's in midair. It can’t be done. When a mage creates magic via casting a spell, they send out a single pulse of mana from the core of their body. There is no constant streaming of mana, only a limited stream, just one pulse.”

Loh raised her index finger, “Spell casting in concept is very simple. Only two things are needed to cast a spell. Mana and a visual conceptualization of what you wish to create with that mana. Remember this, mana naturally reacts to the wish of its owner, it does not fulfill that wish. So, for example, say I imagine a clear concise image of shooting a fireball from my hand. And now, say I desperately wish for that fireball to appear. The mana residing within my heart will react to my strong emotions of desperation and it will send a single pulse of its energy to my hand. The problem is because my emotions are all over the place, the amount of mana in the pulse is erratic. It could be a small bit or an enormous cluster.”

“Now the real problem arises. I had a very specific and concise image of the size, shape, and heat of my fireball. That fireball will require an exact amount of mana to cast, anything less or more will result in my spell failing. Whether that failure leads to only a bit of smoke shooting out my hands or my entire arm being blown off, all depends on how much mana that single pulse contained. And since the pulse of mana was erratic, you could say I’m screwed.”

Everyone grew quiet at her warning. Death by magic, even one’s own, seemed too easy. It wasn’t a game, it was incredibly dangerous, Kithina began to realize.

“But what if my idea of a fireball wasn’t specific? What if the fireball could be any size and shape. Then that single pulse of erratic mana would work right? Wrong. Without a clear and concise image the mana would fail to turn corporeal and the spell would fail just the same. You need to know exactly what you’re creating when casting a spell. The image has to be clear and precise in your mind. As for the mana within you,” Loh pointed at her chest, “A powerful and collected will is needed to control one’s mana properly. There is no room for indecisiveness. Emotions oftentimes are unstable and weaken your will, which is why you all are training in meditation. Some of you have accidentally cast spells already. You may think that makes you a talented mageborn. In a way it does, but more than anything it just means you’re lucky. Lucky that your botched spell didn’t get you killed and instead only had some minor effect.”

Kithina recalled the papers that she had accidentally made fly through her father’s office. She thought she had done something incredible. She now realized she was lucky to be alive.

“However, if one can hold a perfect image and can control their mana properly, then they can cast a true spell.” Loh raised her outstretched hand. A blast of fire burst from her palm, the flame roaring as it shot into the sky. The explosion of heat knocked the students to the ground.

The mage lowered her hand and looked down at her students. “This is what magi are capable of. Someday you may be forced to fight one, for your own sake or the city’s. When that time comes you will need to be able to control your will and mind in the face of your own death. Now get up, it's time you learn.”

Stryg was the first to stand, despite his injury. The display of fire had been greater than anything the tribe’s shaman, Cruvor, had ever been able to cast. It was power and death. Stryg was accustomed to seeing both, but never like this. While others felt terror in the face of Loh’s magic, Stryg was filled with awe.

Loh grinned, her blue eyes dancing in delight. “You must be Stryg, the unknown hybrid. Professor Tauri told me about you. Good, let’s start with you. Go stand over there.”

Stryg headed over the open spot of the courtyard without another word. He knew better than to question her.

Loh looked around the group. She pointed her finger, “You, the orc. No, the other. The tall one. Yes, you. What’s your name?”

“Kegrog,” the orc said.

“Kegrog, you will fight Stryg. Neither of you can cast spells yet, but fighting in hand-to-hand combat is still a good way to get accustomed to battle. You can’t afford to panic in a real battle. This will be a good exercise,” Loh said.

“Understood,” Kegrog nodded solemnly.

The students glanced between the 6’5 ft Kegrog and 3’7 ft Stryg. This wasn’t a duel. This was a lamb to the slaughter. Even Kithina wanted to say something. She wasn’t too fond of Stryg, but she didn’t want to see him get beaten to a pulp either. But, after seeing what Loh was capable of, no one dared say a word.

Stryg looked up at the orc and then at Loh. No one would deny she was powerful, but Stryg knew that the powerful got what they wanted. Oftentimes they were cruel, too. Loh obviously didn’t like him, most people didn’t like goblins around here. Stryg was just another goblin to be picked on.

He sighed, what was new?

“Begin!” Loh shouted.

“No hard feelings, little man,” Kegrog charged with open arms.

Stryg was ordinarily quick on his feet, but his lungs burned, his body still sluggish. He dodged to the side. He was too slow. Kegrog’s long arm caught Stryg’s shoulder. He hauled Stryg up into a bear hug and squeezed tightly. Stryg gasped, his bones felt as if they were about to splinter into small shards. He tried to scratch at the orc, but his arms were held tight. Stryg kicked the air in futility.

“Shit,” he managed to spit out with the last of his breath.

His vision began to blur. He was so tired of being singled out for being odd. So what if he was different. He was small, but he wasn’t helpless. Fuck this orc. Stryg wiggled his hands as best he could. He remembered being tied down as he entered this damn city. He needed to break out, like he did with the ropes back then. He recalled the desperation he felt at his own helplessness that day at the city gates. But this time he didn’t feel desperate. This time he reached deep inside for all the anger he felt and he found rage. Heat surged through his veins.

Kegrog groaned in pain as his skin turned from a dark red to a pale pink. His arms began to shrivel. He fell to his knees. Stryg pushed him off effortlessly. Stryg’s breath was ragged, his whole body felt like it was burning, he’d crumble to the ground at any moment, but he had never felt more alive. He would kill this orc. He swiped his claws at Kegrog’s neck. Loh’s shadow shot out, grabbed Kegrog by the scruff of the neck and yanked him away.

Stryg looked at the empty spot where the orc had just been. The orc was supposed to have died. Stryg turned to a smiling Loh. She had stolen his kill. Damn her. His legs buckled beneath him, the last of his energy spent.

“I’m impressed. The academy’s records say you're a chromatic black, not grey. Turns out we have three manifold magi in this class. It’s my lucky day,” Loh laughed.