Chapter Twenty-Five - A Lesson in Schooling

“You know how the undecided tend to want to do all sorts of things? One day they want to be a farmer, the next a great scholar, the next a politician?

I never really outgrew that.”

***

We reached the road in due time and took a moment to reorient ourselves, then we were off. I estimated a few hours at a leisurely pace before we reached the Path to Heaven, or at least the city nearest that.

“Let’s start from the beginning. There are, generally speaking, eight major schools of magic. These are magics whose casting and focus tend to overlap so much that learning one spell in a school will often make learning the next easier. That isn’t to say that you can’t skip from one school to another though.”

“Like learning a dao or some advanced martial art helping you get in shape to learn another,” the limpet said.

“That’s a decent analogy, yes.” I placed my hands at the small of my back and walked on. “The schools are actually quite loose at times. They’re not a manifestation of the system--though the system does acknowledge them--or of magic, but rather an attempt by sentients to better classify and pigeon-hole the esoteric. Still, they have their uses.”

“I think I get it,” the limpet said. She wasn’t looking where she was going, focusing instead on the notebook she was scribbling in. Her dog was walking by her side, nudging her with its flank so that she didn’t go off the road.

“I won’t demand that you begin with any one school, so you can choose whichever you wish. Though some are a little esoteric and rather dangerous,” I said. “And switching later is a non-issue. I would advise against studying in more than two at once. That way leads to stretching yourself too thin.”

The limper nodded. “Great! So what are the schools?”

“From the top. An abjuror, or a mage specializing in abjuration, is one that uses magic to cast protections upon themselves and their allies. It’s a school that also has quite a few spells meant to protect from more esoteric harm. Protection from Evil is a staple spell, for example. You can also stop scrying and other Divination-based attacks and even conceal your presence a little. It’s a defensive school of magic.”

“Defensive, got it,” the limpet said as she scratched out a line in her book. “I... don’t know if that’s the school for me. My goals aren’t to be safe. Not just safe, in any case.”

“Very well then. A conjuror or conjurationist is a mage that can tap into the magic of the plane itself in order to press the weave into other dimensions and pull things from there. Initially these are simple things. Pulling heat from the Elemental Plane of Flames and so on. Later on, with more experience, a conjurationist can summon creatures to bind and serve them.”

“That sounds strong,” the limpet said. “What kind of creatures?”

“Everything from elementals to demons. At the highest tiers you could conjure storms and magical phenomena that can be quite destructive. The cast times are long though, and the materials can be difficult to obtain for certain spells.”

The limpet nodded. “I like that one better than Abjuration.”

“Hmm,” I agreed. “Next... I suppose if we’re continuing in alphabetical order, the next school would be Enchantment. This is a strange one. Or so I’ve always found. The school’s main ideals seem to be split two ways. Part is focused on Enchanting objects and such, that is, making them more powerful and increasing their usability. Another part, not quite as great, is focused on Enchanting people.”

The limpet frowned. “How do you enchant a person?”

“Spells that affect the mind directly are generally classified as Enchantments,” I explained. “Things like Charm Person. And Fear.”

“Huh,” the limpet said. “Okay. That sounds useful, but I don’t know if it’s what I’m looking for. Conjuration sounds better.”

“It’s a very powerful school of magic,” I said. “It’s not one for direct combat, but rather a kind of magic that can turn organizations on their heads and twist nations apart.”

The limpet eyed me for a bit. “Have you used it that way?”

“I’ve run a few experiments,” I temperized. “Divination is the school that governs the ability to perceive things. Your Detect Magic spell is a simple example. Some allow a caster to scry and see things from afar, others allow the user to predict the future. Otherwise, it’s likely the least useful or powerful school. Don’t underestimate its utility, but it’s a school meant for those who are willing to plan things out years and decades in advance, setting up dominos and letting them play out as they want.”

“Scary,” she said.

“It is. I’ve studied the school, of course, but perhaps not as much as the others. Now, this next school might interest you. Evocation. The casting school, one focused almost entirely on pure destructive capabilities.”

The limpet perked up. “Oh?”

“Indeed. By tapping into the weave itself and twisting the resulting magic into a specific form, you can unleash a wide variety of effects. From Fireballs to Magic Missiles. It’s likely the most powerful school in terms of direct-damage abilities. It tends to be the most linearly strong school across the board, with each tier growing upon the last. There are a few utility spells in there as well. Healing abilities and such, though they’re not the greatest.”

“I like it! I think that’s the school I want to learn from.”

I could imagine the Fireballs already. Evokers tended to think that Fireball solved everything, and if one application of arcane fire didn’t work, then the solution was a second application of the same. “There are more schools.”

“Of course Master. I’m ready!”

“Illusion is similar to Enchantment, though instead of twisting a person’s mental faculties, you change their perceptual ones. Everything from invisibility, to spells designed to confuse and beguile. It’s not directly harmful, but has perhaps the greatest creative uses.”

The limpet nodded. “Got it.”

“Not interested?” I asked.

“Not enough Fireballs.”

“Of course. The next is one of my personal favourites, Necromancy. The magical science of the soul. The school has a fair number of utility spells in it, many of which revolve around getting the caster used to playing with souls and the dead and tapping into necrotic powers for good and ill.”

“You can do good things with Necromancy?”

“You can do good with nearly anything, if you’re creative enough. You can hurt people with nearly anything too, and that doesn’t require nearly as much creativity. Necromancy’s staple spells start at the third tier, until then there are a few useful abilities.”

“I think,” the limpet began before pausing. “I think I’d like to become a Necromancer.”

“There’s one other school to mention before we start anything,” I said. “Transmutation. A school focused on transformation via the application of very precise magic. Not necessarily dangerous, not until you learn that flesh is transmutable too. Certainly the school that is most likely to make one rich.”

The limpet shook her head. “I don’t need riches. Well... okay, so that wouldn’t hurt, but I would much rather be powerful.” She nodded seriously and lowered her notebook. “I-- Master, can I learn more than one school at onces?”

“You can.”

“Then Evocation and Necromancy. I think they’ll click together really well, and I’ll be just like Master one day. But for now, I need to be really strong and really smart.”

I couldn’t tell if the limpet was genuine, or if she was just being sycophantic. Either way, I’d take the compliment. “There are other schools, though these tend to be small and not quite as complete. Artificers use machines to enhance magic, and magic to enhance machines. Chronomancers can manipulate time, and tend to erase their own existence too often to create a proper school. Clerical magics are about the worship of the divine. Alchemists take simple ingredients and turn them into magical concoctions.”

“Can you teach me those too? Not now, but... later?”

“Certainly, though perhaps only after you’ve mastered these first two.” I tapped my chin, considering what the best step would be from this point on.

Diving headlong into teaching her about the two schools was an obvious first step, but it might impede my research. No, it would be best to give her the tools, and perhaps a lesson or two, then see how she managed to deploy these on her own.

“We’ll start with a pair of cantrips, one from each school. Frostbite for Evocation. Sapping Sting for Necromancy.”

The limpet raced to pull out her spellbook and open it to a new page. “I’m listening, Master.”

“Frostbite is a relatively simple spell. You use the weave to mark a target, then turn the area immediately around them cold. It’s a wonderful spell to use against those unprepared for the cold, or those who are particularly weak to it. Soldiers in full plate are susceptible, for example, as are certain wild creatures.”

“Awesome!”

I rooted around until my fingers brushed against an old spellbook. A gesture had the limpet giving me her own, and a simple spell copied over the pages with the details for Frostbite into her book. I did the same with Sapping Sting.

“Sapping Sting is an interesting spell. It can, effectively, be used to heal yourself by sapping some of the vitality from a foe. That healing is very much temporary. The increase to your vitality will fade along with the spell. Keep that in mind while using it. You don’t want to die the moment the spell wears off on an opponent.”

“Got it.”

“The spell itself causes a mild pain and reduces your opponent’s constitution. It’s not terribly lethal, but can be used to subdue or at least weaken a foe. The components aren’t anything special, and the spell is an instant cast. It’s a good way to save yourself some pain in a hurry.”

The limpet nodded so quickly her haid bounced and bobbed.

“Well, go on, start studying.” I handed her back her notebook. “And don’t stop practicing your other spells.”

“Yes Master! Come on Fang Fang!”

I watched the limpet run out ahead. I was feeling a strange sort of contentment about everything working out as they had so far. I could imagine the limpet growing into a fearsome wizard one day. She’d need to set aside some of her tendency to only think of the violent applications of magic, but that would come with maturity, I suspected.

“The limpet is a good girl,” Alex said.

I snorted. “Yes, I suppose so,” I agreed. “When we arrive at the Heavenly Path, keep an eye on her. She’s not quite ready to be caught in the collateral of a fight with divinity involved.”

“I’ll protect her, as a good maid should.”

I nodded. “Good,” I said. “We’ll have quite a bit on our hands soon enough. It would be a shame to abandon this test subject, but until then we’ll see what we can glean from her.”

“She’s nice,” Alex said. “And Bone Papa likes her because he’s nice too.”

“Hardly,” I said. “Now, give me a few minutes. I have some thinking to do.”

There were going to be challenges ahead that someone as young and foolhardy as the limpet would not be ready to face. Not by a long shot. Perhaps I could teleport her to relative safety? Unfortunately, the test subject wasn’t yet at a point where she could be considered self-sufficient.

I shook my head and set all that sentimental nonsense aside. I wasn’t here for the limpet. I was here to have a nice, agreeable meeting with the local pantheon, and perhaps to make sure that everything was copacetic.