Chapter 27:

Stryg waited in a cold classroom. The room was deep underground below the academy. Long metal tables stretched across half the room, the other half was empty. Several drains lined the black stone floor. Unlike the meditation dome, this room was filled with torches hanging on the etched walls. Small brown magestones decorated the etched symbols. Yet, the room was cold enough to see one’s own breath. Stryg looked around at the two dozen other students, most he didn’t recognize. So far all his classes had been shared with the same classmates, class 1-C.

One of the students raised a shivering hand. “P-professor, why are we down here? Where are the others?”

Professor Gette was a human of indiscernible age. His hair was a set of vibrant brown curls that he tied in a ponytail. He had the gait of a young man, but his face told another story. His grey eyes were sunken. Wrinkles decorated his forehead and sallow cheeks. Leather gloves covered his hands.

His voice rang clear like glass in the stone chamber, “If you are referring to those of your homeroom class, they are attending their own respective chromatic color course. All of you standing here tested as chromatic black, hence the name of this class, ‘Intro to Black Magic’, emphasis on the ‘Intro.’ It is also why I, a master mage of black magic,” Gette pointed to the Onyx stone implanted within his silver necklace, “am teaching all of you novices. So, best if you all stay quiet and let me introduce you to finesse of black magic.”

The student lowered his hand and nodded with chattering teeth.

“Great,” Gette nodded. “Black magic classes have about four times as many students compared to the other chromatic courses. The reason for this is quite simple. The Ebon Realm produces more black mana than any other chromatic mana, resulting in the births of more chromatic black mageborn. The same goes for the other Realms. The Scarlet Realm produces more red mana and therefore more chromatic red mageborn. The Azure Realm produces more blue mana, and on and on. You get the idea. Anyway, that’s why there are two dozen of you and why the academy requires someone as skilled as I to teach you novices. But, believe me, your group size does make it harder to instruct one-on-one training. So, try to listen well, I won’t repeat myself.”

The students nodded in understanding while rubbing their arms for heat. Some of them even tried to huddle together. Stryg stepped a few feet away. Sure, he was a little cold, but he was used to enduring cold winters in Vulture Woods. More importantly, he didn’t want to huddle with a bunch of men. There were only a few women in the class.

The chambers double doors creaked open to reveal several steel-masked figures clad in black cloaks. Stryg felt a shiver crawl up his spine as he recalled the creatures from his first night in Hollow Shade. They had attacked several humans who had been chasing him. He had barely escaped their iron chains himself. Why were the sentinels here?

“Ah, finally. The sentinels have arrived. Well, come in, hurry up.” Gette waved the undead in.

The sentinels dragged in large cloth bags and placed them on the iron tables. They then turned to Gette in silence, waiting for his orders. The students kept their distance from them as the undead worked. Even if they weren’t hostile, no one wanted to be near Hollow Shade’s nocturnal guards.

“That will be all for now, you may leave.” Gette shooed them away with his hand.

The sentinels obeyed without a word, closing the door behind them. Gette pulled out a knife from his belt, went over to one of the cloth sacks and tore it open. A scrawny human woman, no older than 35, lay dead on the table. Many of the students backed away in fear. Stryg stood still, watching the body. There were no signs of decay, she had died recently, Stryg noted to himself. He now understood why they were in this frigid chamber.

“Now the class can finally begin,” Gette said. He proceeded to rip off the clothes from the woman and throw them to the side. “Come closer you cowards. You wanted to be magi, yes? Well, this is what it looks like to be a black mage. Best to get used to it quickly. Death will be a constant companion to our kind.”

Most of the students shuffled their feet, but didn’t actually move any closer, preferring to watch from afar. A few, inched their way forward, little by little. Stryg didn’t hesitate to walk up next to the body.

Gette clapped his hands, “Good, at least one of you has the stomach to stand unafraid. You will all need that sort of resolve when it comes to magic.”

Stryg’s lips turned slightly upwards in a grin. He was finally beginning to prove himself as a worthy student.

Gette took his knife and stabbed it deep into the dead woman’s chest. He then began to bring the blade lower, cutting her torso open. “As you all should know by now, in nature chromatic mana has the unique trait of absorbing elemental mana. Each color will only absorb specific elements. Every color absorbs two of the ten elements. Black mana absorbs the elements of death and darkness. The combination of death and black mana allows us magi to create necromancy; the spell form of raising and controlling the undead.”

Gette pointed his bloody knife to the door. “The sentinels are undead created by the black magi of Hollow Shade. We created the ones who protect you all while you sleep. Black magi are the backbone of this city’s defense. If you have the determination and courage, perhaps you may be worthy of joining us.”

“Casting a spell is all about a focused will and a clear image. Now through enough practice and meditation you can train your will to be as strong as iron. But having a clear image is a little different.” Gette grabbed the corpse’s arm and shook it. “You can imagine as much as you want what it would be like for this arm to move on its own but it's not that simple. You have to know what it would take to move the arm. The muscles, ligaments, and bones. You must know how a corpse works if you ever wish to control it. That includes knowing how the body deteriorates and how to prevent the process. Preventing rot is normally done through a combination of potions and your own spell casting. Potions can be obtained from red magi, but your spell casting is obtained only through knowledge. You will all need to study your anatomy textbooks extensively in the coming years to gain that comprehension.”

Gette put the knife on the table and stuck his hands inside the women’s chest. He pulled the cavity wide open, leaving her inner organs exposed. “Necromancy is the art of controlling a corpse, and among the forms of chromatic magic, it is one of the most information intensive. The best way to learn is hands on knowledge. The rest of you come closer.”

The other students reluctantly drew close to the body, only standing a few feet away. Coincidentally, they all managed to crowd around the table without being too close to either Gette or Stryg. Once they were all still, Gette began pointing to the organs within the woman’s chest, naming each one and their purpose. Once he finished, he started to skin the rest of her body, exposing the muscles beneath. A few of the students vomited at the horrid sight. Gette snapped at them and ordered them to leave the class for the day. They gladly left without a word. Gette continued the lecture as if any of the students could retain the enormous quantity of information he was spewing. Stryg tried to memorize what Gette said, but it proved far too much.

By the time Gette finished speaking he had already dismantled the woman’s entire body into different sections. Half the class had already vomited, fainted, or left. The other half struggled to focus on anything Gette said. Stryg was the only one focused on the man’s words, but he failed to understand most of what was said.

“That’ll be enough for the moment. Now, it's time for the practical section,” Gette said.

“That wasn’t the practical part?” A student mouthed in horror.

“Do you think I enjoy doing this? Getting my hands covered in blood and guts of some common wench?” Gette asked. “Obviously not. I do this because it's necessary for you all to learn. A black mage’s work is more gruesome than any other chromatic magi. It is why you must grow desensitized to the work we do. Only then will you be able to focus on what needs to be done.”

Gette understood that most of these students had never seen a body, nor had any seen one treated in such a grim manner. But they needed to grow accustomed to the nature of their work if they ever wished to succeed here. Gette didn’t believe in coddling his students by slowly introducing them to the topic. He believed they needed to be exposed to the truth immediately and learn to accept it. Of course they were all shocked by his teachings, but they would grow to understand and eventually accept them.

Little did he know, Stryg was the exception. The goblin had grown up seeing others killed, especially his own kind. Stryg had seen many goblin’s bodies mutilated, even more skinned and prepared into food. The more civilized people of Hollow Shade would think Gette’s dismantling of the body brutal. But Stryg saw nothing out of the ordinary, except that it was a human corpse instead of a goblin’s, and that it wasn’t being dismantled to be eaten.

Gette pointed to the other iron tables with sacks on them. “There are enough tables for each one of you. A carving knife is latched under each table. I want you all to go grab a knife and open your sack. The bodies are very fresh and unharmed for the most part, it’ll make casting our necromancy spells far easier. You won’t need to do as much to control and support the body.”

Stryg and the rest followed his directions.

“Where did you get so many bodies?” A student asked in mild disgust.

“Don’t ask questions and get to your table,” Gette ordered.

Stryg already guessed the answer. He had seen the way the corpse of the woman had looked. Haggard, dirty, and thin. She had probably lived a life of poverty in the streets. Stryg recalled the sentinels who had brought the bodies in. He knew what they did to those without nameplates who resisted being enslaved. So, this is what happened to the bodies of all those unlucky commoners, he thought.

Stryg found the carving knife under his table and cut his cloth sack open. An elderly dwarf male body resided within. Stryg didn’t know what to feel as he looked at the corpse. More than anything he felt relieved. Relieved he was lucky enough to be a mageborn and not a corpse lying on the cold iron table.

“I won’t ask any of you to raise the body, that is far too complex of a spell for any of you. We’ll start simple. I want you to try to move your corpse’s hand, even a finger will be enough for today. I’ve taught you all that much,” Gette explained.

Stryg took a deep breath, he could do this. He had consciously cast magic once before against the orc, Kegrog. This time had to be easier. He stretched out his fingers and aimed them towards the dwarf’s rigid hand. He imagined the hand moving, willing it to move. But nothing happened.

“Try to remember professor Ismene’s meditation teachings. Clear your minds and find the mana within,” Getted added.

Stryg frowned. He hadn’t been doing great in Ismene’s classes. He found it difficult to meditate. He’d normally find himself staring at one girl or another in the dark meditation dome. Even when he did try to meditate his mind was always wandering into his own inner thoughts, which only ever led to one conclusion. His inadequacy, his failures, and eventually his anger. The whole process was uncomfortable, and instead of following Ismene’s instructions of meditating in one’s free time, Stryg found himself ignoring meditation all together.

But his anger, born from his frustration, his pain, that was something Stryg knew very well. It had been with him for so long that he wore it like a second skin, comfortable within its confines. He reached for the anger that lurked right beneath the surface. It greeted him like an old friend. Stryg felt the almost feverish heat of mana course through his veins and flow into his outstretched hand. He stared at the corpse’s hand intently. It would move. He needed it to. He wanted it to. Yet, it remained still.

Gette began walking around the tables, inspecting each student’s work. Sweat began to form on Stryg’s forehead. His hand began to shake from the increasing heat coursing through his arm. The spell had to work. He couldn’t keep failing like this.

“Stop, you’re pushing yourself too hard,” Gette said.

But Stryg didn’t. He needed the hand to move, even just a finger. Gette would have slapped Stryg, but he didn’t wish to break the goblin’s focus. A mage distracted in the middle of a spell could have dire consequences.

“Kid, stop it. Now,” Gette ordered.

Stryg let go of the breath he had been holding and fell to his knees. His entire arm burned in pain. He could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest. He gasped for breath.

“You’re the most willing of this entire class, yet you're reckless and you seem to lack talent with necromancy,” Gette sighed.

Stryg grit his teeth in frustration, but held his tongue.

“At least you have talent with shadow spells,” Gette said.

“Huh?” Stryg looked up in surprise.

“You may have failed to move even a single finger, but you managed to move its shadow at least.” Gette pointed to the wriggling shadow of the corpse’s hand.

Stryg clambered to his feet and took a closer look at the shadow. It moved erratically for a few moments before settling back into its natural state.

“Black mana is mixed with two elemental energies. The mixture of death creates the necromancy spell form, while the mixture of the dark element creates the shadow spell form. Like the one you just accidentally casted,” Gette said.

“So, I’ll be able to grab things with shadows like professor Loh?” Stryg asked with excitement.

Gette laughed, “Of course not. Does it look like shadows can grab things? Shadows are intangible.”

“But, I saw professor Loh…”

“Loh is a high master manifold mage, she can do things far beyond the norm. Her whole family is incredibly gifted with magic. You shouldn’t compare yourself to her.”

“I see…”

Gette removed his bloody gloves and massaged his own neck. “Don’t worry about the corpse failure. Most magi are only proficient in one of the elements within their color. Not me of course, I am quite skilled with both shadow and necromancy spell forms. Nonetheless, you did good today, kid. We’ll start shadow spell training next class.”

Stryg found himself with a rare genuine smile on his face.