Alex had never taken a class in the basement of the university’s castle before, but he wasn’t really too surprised that blood magic was being offered there, in one of the darkest, creepiest places on campus.

Deep underground in the bowels of the castle seemed just about right for the subject matter.

His imagination went rogue, conjuring images of a class with sinister undertones down in a dungeon complete with torture instruments, blood filled tanks and terrifying devices half-surgical tool, and half executioner’s implement. Yet—as he walked through the classroom door—much of what greeted him didn’t live up to his vivid imaginings at all.

He’d imagined a massive, cavernous space; instead, the room was modest in size: not as small as the one used for Professor Mangal’s summer summoning course, but smaller than the halls or auditoriums he’d attended lectures in during first year. Rows of desks faced forward, far fewer in number than in any first year compulsory course he’d taken last year.

It seemed blood magic wasn’t all that popular, which surprised him. He’d assumed the class would be full since blood magic could be used for healing—an ability that wizards would really benefit from. He could hear Baelin’s voice saying: ‘a ‘proper’ wizard should have healing skills to equip them in the dangerous world they’ll be facing.’ Taking in more of the room, some of the objects in it were exactly what he’d imagined one would find in a classroom dedicated to blood magic. There were ominous looking glass tubes filled with a red liquid. It probably wasn’t blood—at least he didn’t think so since it glowed—boiling and bubbling in an unsettling rise and fall in cylindrical glass tanks on one side of the room.

The tanks’ eerie red light provided much of the illumination for the chamber, lending it both the feel of a horror show, and…an oddly soothing atmosphere at the same time.

‘Soothing?’ he thought, a small smile touching his lips. ‘By The Traveller, maybe I do have issues if I’m finding creepy blood tanks soothing.’

Their red light shone over stone walls and ceilings painted stark white; the walls were covered in anatomical diagrams detailing both the physical processes of the human body, and the flow of energy between a lifeforce and a mana pool.

There were no torture implements though, much to Alex’s relief: just bookshelves tall enough to reach all the way to the chamber’s distant ceiling.

Scrtch. Scrtch.

Standing at the front of the classroom before a giant obsidian chalkboard, a woman who looked to be in her middle years, was jotting down page numbers, instructions, and the lesson plan using a long piece of chalk. The chalk was probably light in colour, but appeared almost blood red from the tanks’ glow. The woman at the board—who he assumed was the professor—was tall, heavy set, black-haired with several large pieces of jewellery around her neck, wrists, pinned to the bosom of her scarlet dress, and linked together in a chain belt around her broad waist. Every stone was a ruby, set in gold. The gems winked at him like they were alive.

They reminded Alex of the fire-gems embedded in Claygon’s forehead and palms.

As he stepped into the classroom with his golem behind him, she looked over and nodded.

“Welcome to first year blood magic. You must be Alex Roth,” she stopped writing.

Students who were already seated, looked up and some began whispering to each other. He didn’t recognise any of them, but they seemed to recognise him.

‘Were they at The Games?’ he wondered. ‘At the memorial?’

“Yeah, that’s me,” Alex said, scratching the back of his head. “And are you Professor Hak?”

“Indeed,” she smiled. “Welcome, once again. I’m glad you have an interest in blood magic, Mr Roth.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully it’s a good fit,” he said.

“Blood magic is a better fit for more wizards than many think,” Professor Hak said. “After all, we all have blood. And we all have magic.”

There was a long pause before Alex realised that she’d made a joke.

By the time class was ready to begin, the room was nearly full; most students were murmuring to each other, looking around uneasily at the tanks of blood-red liquid and anatomical images hanging on the walls. Many craned their necks looking behind, eyeing Claygon as he loomed at the back of the class with all four arms crossed.

Alex suppressed a chuckle: this time last year he’d been one of those fresh-faced first year students shocked at the smallest thing about Generasi. Now, here he was, a second year, a member of a dangerous expedition, and a crafter of one of the most unique golems in the world.

“If you think this is crazy, you all should try Art of the Wizard in Combat,” Alex muttered to himself.

Some of the first years were gawking at both the lesson plan and the readings listed on the board. Admittedly, the readings were pretty heavy…but weekly readings for most courses were substantial. It was almost guaranteed.

Alex remembered something Thundar had said during early days in first year before they’d officially formed their cabal.

“It’s like every professor thinks theirs is the only course we got,” the minotaur had groaned, despairing while sinking into a chair in front of his pile of textbooks. “If I read one more word, my eyes are gonna roll outta my head and my brain’s gonna pour outta the empty sockets!”

Alex smiled at the memory. These days, the cabal had a good handle on their coursework. But their problems had shifted to include practical matters of life, death, monsters, and malice.

Alex remembered when he used to feel like Thundar, that the number of pages in assigned readings ate up too much time. But by training himself in speed-reading and retaining information, he was at a point where he could get through some pretty difficult textbooks in a really short amount of time.

That had freed up a lot of his time, which allowed him to juggle classes, readings, extracurricular spell-study, the expedition, work, alchemy experiments, time with family and friends, and whatever else came his way.

His thoughts went to the expedition and the students who were in Thameland investigating Greymoor and that Chitterer’s trail. He wondered how they were doing and what they’d found out.

Tap. Tap, tap.

Professor Hak called the class to attention, tapping the stick of chalk against the obsidian board.

“Welcome to first year blood magic everyone,” she said. “I’m Professor Hak, and I’ll be your teacher for both semesters of this course. I hope you’re as excited about learning blood magic, as I am about opening your world to it.” She gave them a welcoming smile before starting to teach.

“Now, when I say the words ‘blood magic’. They sound pretty frightening, don’t they? But, I can tell you that blood magic doesn’t always deserve the grim reputation that’s often associated with it…in some ways, at least. In others, it completely deserves the reputation it ha-Yes?”

Alex craned his neck to see a first year splayed out in a chair at the back of the class.

“Huh,” Alex whispered.

A thin, pale, young man with long brown hair that looked like it was dipped in a barrel of pig grease repeatedly, had his hand raised. He was dressed all in black and…

‘Wait.’ Alex squinted. ‘Are those spikes?’

Sure enough, a starburst of small golden spikes covered the shoulders of his shirt, and leather bracers around his forearms. When he lowered his hand as Professor Hak acknowledged him, Alex watched his body language.

He wore arrogance like a cloak.

The way he was sitting was a blend of Tyris’ relaxed confidence, and Khalik’s casual nobility. But…there was an unnatural stiffness to his posture, indicating self-consciousness; like he was holding a pose while being very aware that every eye rested on him, and consciously working to project the image of a badass.

“Yes, professor, blood magic is also very dangerous,” the young man said, with a tone indicating that he knew everything in the world and was quite willing to share his knowledge with everyone.

Horror swept over Alex like a cold wave.

‘No, please,’ he thought, cringing.

He could see where the young man was going from experiences in magic theory with a couple of classmates who, when they started talking, there was no end to it. These were the students who raised a hand right before class ended—just as it became obvious the professor had nothing more to say—then launched into long speeches, both relevant, irrelevant and ill-timed, that kept their classmates stuck to their chairs long after the period had ended.

“I’ve studied blood magic rather extensively,” the young man drawled, heedless of Alex’s silent plea. “And I’ve learned that at the highest levels, it can interact directly with the soul.”

Then, instead of looking at the professor, his eyes settled on his fellow students. “I’ve read a number of Vlad Drac’s books on the subject, and-”

‘No, no, no, no,’ Alex begged.

What followed was a period where time seemed to stop, but the young man-in- black’s mouth didn’t, sending Alex into fits of pure agony.

The first year proceeded to launch into an overly-complicated explanation of his own personal studies into blood magic, subjects that were to be covered in the lesson plan, his own interests, a bunch of irrelevant stuff about head trauma, and his own opinions on the subject. As time dragged on, the faces of his classmates shifted from expressions of confusion, then agitation, to boredom, then vicarious embarrassment and finally, to outright smirking.

To make matters worse, the professor only watched as he went on, souring his classmates’ opinions of himself by the heartbeat. In some ways, while it might have been seen as dismissive, she might’ve been kinder to simply cut him off.

It definitely would’ve been kinder to Alex who was fighting the urge to fall out of his chair, curl up in a tiny ball like a poisoned spider, and just die right then and there. He almost would’ve preferred going a few rounds with Burn-Saw again.

Mercifully, the young man finally paused when Professor Hak loudly cleared her throat.

“I see…that you’re showing quite an interest in the subject-” she said, her voice straining to be polite.

“Victor,” the young man introduced himself despite not being asked to.

“Victor.” Her voice grew even more strained. “Well, I applaud your enthusiasm. In the future though, I’ll ask you to save comments for our class discussions. Especially comments that are so, well…enthusiastic. When I’m lecturing, you can still ask questions, but there’s a lot to cover in the semester, and you’re all paying a lotof coin to be here, so I want to make sure you’re getting the knowledge you're paying for.”

“…yeah, that’s fine, professor,” Victor said, without even the slightest twinge of discomfort.

Alex looked at Professor Hak like he was in the presence of a saint, and nearly mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her when, without missing a beat, she jumped into the lecture.

Much of the first class on blood magic was a review for him. Since he’d read a number of books and spell-guides over the summer—though he didn’t consider going on about it like Victor had—most of the history, dangers and general applications Professor Hak talked about, were familiar.

What really piqued his interest was when she discussed the spells she wanted them to learn in first semester.

“The first spells you’ll learn will form the foundation of all future study of blood magic, even if you become archwizards and wield ninth-tier spells, this foundation is what you’ll be building on.” Professor Hak drew a diagram showing a pathway between a humanoid’s lifeforce and their mana pool. “Almost all blood magic spells deal with the interaction of life and mana, and so Life to Mana and Mana to Life will form the foundations of dozens of other spells you’ll learn, should you choose to continue in the discipline. But for this semester, we'll be sticking with first-tier spells.”

She listed the spells, starting with Life to Mana and Mana to Life, then moving on to Cleanse Flesh.

“Cleanse Flesh is a spell that runs mana through one’s body to scrub it of impurities such as disease. While it’s not a panacea, it can be used to accelerate your recovery from sickness, help keep you from getting sick in the first place, and lessen the negative effects of toxins on your body…”

She leaned forward.

“…it can even accelerate one’s recovery from a hangover.”

A number of chairs scraped the floor as some of the more disinterested first years abruptly leaned forward, giving her their full and complete attention.

“I thought that might get some interest.” Professor Hak smiled. “Not that I’m condoning any behaviour that would find you having a need for a hangover cure, of course.”

‘When Khalik and Thundar find out about this, they’re not gonna let up ‘til they learn how to cast it, even if they have to pry it from my cold, dead brain,’ Alex laughed to himself.

From the back, Victor scoffed.

“The spell you’ll be learning next will be Rejuvenating Slumber,” she continued. “It’s a spell that uses mana to enhance a wizard’s sleep so they can have a deeper and more restful night’s rest. We all know how important sleep is.”

Now Alex was the one paying closer attention and also noticing some of the older students doing the same. He almost laughed out loud.

‘First-years are interested in getting rid of hangovers, second and upper years just want to find ways to get a good night’s sleep.’

“Now, Rejuvenating Slumber isn’t a magic arrow,” Professor Hak said. “Some of you might get the idea that by casting it repeatedly, you’ll be able to halve or even quarter your sleeping time. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. Rejuvenating Slumber’s effectiveness on sleep varies from person to person: for some, it can reduce about an hour from their sleep needs. For others, they can go from needing roughly eight hours per night, to something closer to five. But for your own information, please keep in mind that Rejuvenating Slumber can’t make one’s mana regenerate faster. Another point to note, is that for some folks, the spell hardly lessens their sleep time at all. It’s a spell that’s best used to aid someone in finding a full and refreshing night’s rest in sleeping conditions that are far from relaxing, like in loud spaces, for example.”

Alex tapped his pen on his opened notebook.

Rejuvenating Slumber sounded like a spell he could make good use of, even if it didn’t end up shaving a lot of time off his sleep needs, every bit helped. He wondered if he could combine it with some of his meditation techniques or maybe even Val’Rok’s mana regeneration ones.

He made a note on that.

“The next spell we’ll learn is one called Warp Flesh,” Professor Hak said. “It’ll be the first attack spell in blood magic that we’ll tackle this semester-”

Alex had to fight the urge to groan. ‘I’m sure the Mark’ll have plenty to complain about when I try learning that one.’

“-though it’s technically not really an offensive spell, but a spell that can be used offensively.”

‘Or maybe not,’ he thought, grinning.