Mary woke up before the alarm. She felt really comfy - like being home, but the entire thing was compressed to the tiny area below the blanket, focusing on her. The heroine in the making had spent the previous evening with her party members, mostly talking. They were actually quite nice people, or well - a kind of people she could bear to be around. She had trouble telling when they were serious or not - the fact that nothing in this freaking world made any sense didn’t help. She glanced at Mossie, who started powering its motors as if sensing her thoughts. He usually powered up shortly after she woke up. Stuff like this made her a little suspicious at times, but the fact was that she had never been fined for anything she just thought about… not yet, at least.

She looked around and confirmed that Margaret didn’t look like she’d be getting up anytime soon. Well, maybe, if a volcano erupted under her bed, the explosion would push her into a somewhat standing position…. The sun was already up and getting reflected into the room directly from the majestic backside of the bull. Tanuor, was that how it’d been called? She was sure Bromman mentioned it before leaving her to the mercy of the academy’s bureaucracy. Maybe she could ask Margaret or Hans for confirmation….

The funny thing was, Hans and Margaret hadn’t arrived at this crazy house all that long before Mary. Still, as a couple, they managed to get the pre-formed party status. She was lucky, really lucky that they hadn’t grabbed anyone else yet - from the stories they said, the academy was no place for lone wolves. On the other hand… well, they might have been joking, most of the time at least…

Mary shook her head and deactivated the alarm before it rang. She didn’t want to wake Margaret up needlessly. With a heavy sigh, she left the cosy heaven of her bed and tiptoed to the bathroom.

When she came out, Margaret’s alarm was blaring on full power. The girl didn’t seem to mind, though - she barely moved since Mary last saw her. Well… should she wake her up? Hm… she did set the alarm for this hour, but… Fortunately, she was saved from the decision.

Margaret groaned, and with a gesture, sent the clock flying against the wall. It didn’t break, though, and it started running around her bed instead, still ringing as if there’d be no breakfast in five more minutes. Well, Mary hoped that wouldn’t be the case - it wasn’t often that she rose so early. She heard a lot of grumbling, and a few really colourful curses from Margaret’s bed, before the girl finally stood up and turned the infernal noise off.

“Morning,” said Mary carefully.

“Mnmnhmblmbn…,” Margaret mumbled back at her before zombie-ing her way to the bathroom.

When she returned, her silvery hair again resembled the silvery cascade Mary knew from the day before more than a broom after sweeping through spiders’ yearly web-weaving competition, which was quite an achievement. It seemed that she was at least mildly awake at this point.

“Before we leave, there’s one thing we have to deal with,” Margaret said, in an unusually serious tone, that made Mary blink. “Have you ever performed any magic, honey?”

“Um…,” Mary thought for a moment. Her life at the orphanage was rather normal, and her teachers only gave her weird looks when she said something weird, so that was probably normal too. Still, there was that one thing in the office, with the shadow…. “There was this strange thing once, but I’m not really sure-”

“That’s enough,” Margaret said. “Magic isn’t something you can do unintentionally.” She yawned. “You’re probably thinking of a time you used your powers - or, well, one of them. Those can manifest in whatever way they like - so it’s important to nurse them the way you want to, or you’ll end up in a really, really tight spot. Anyway…,” she yawned again, and Mary failed to resist the mirror reaction. “Magic is like a sweet. That is - the term is so broad that it doesn’t really mean a lot on its own. The common thing is, though, that for humans, it usually requires some studying, and then a conscious effort. You need an intent, a specific set of actions, and sometimes a bit of other stuff too.”

Margaret picked up one of her knives and examined its polished blade. ”Most often it’s just a word and a gesture, but once or twice a bunch of requisites too - you know, magic wand, pointy hat, the blood of a virgin, tears of a werewolf boiled in the fires of Tartarus with an ounce of salt dried from the water of the deepest ocean trench, this kind of stuff.”

Mary nodded along, trying to remember as much as possible. Would she finally learn something actually useful? She was a bit sad that her mentor stopped at the survival guide through the Academy… though she couldn’t disagree that it was probably the most important thing to learn early on. Like - if you wanted any later-on to speak of, that was, unfortunately, a must.

“There’s one spell I want you to know - Lifeleak,” Margaret continued, still looking at the knife. “It’s a simple one, really. The sacrificial ones are usually way easier than they should, seeing how powerful they are.”

Mary discreetly glanced around for the quickest exit, in case she would suddenly be in a hurry, for no particular reason. The window seemed jumpable enough, but she couldn’t be sure there’d be something to safely land on - they were way too high to reach the ground both directly and in a relatively safe way.

“Oh, don’t worry, honey, I’m not going to warn you when you’re going to be the sacrifice,” Margaret laughed putting the blade down. Apparently, Mary wasn’t as discreet as she imagined. Well, Margaret wasn’t as reassuring as she probably imagined either. “Although, well, in a way you are. This is a self-sacrifice spell, though, so it’ll be your choice should you choose to accept it.”

“And I’d want to do that because…?” Mary asked.

“Well, it’d be easier to get if you’d let me finish first,” Margaret winked at her, which wasn’t especially calming. “It is one of the simplest yet surprisingly useful healing spells. It’ll let you keep someone alive, no matter the damage they’ve taken - for a steep price.” She grew solemn again. “You’d pay the cost no matter if the spell is needed to keep the other alive, so think carefully before you cast it. Although you usually only need it in situations when there’s no time to think, so…,” she shrugged.

Mary licked her lips. It did sound useful. But… “And what’s the price?”

“Your own life. Specifically, a part of it - for every hour you sustain it, it’ll take a year.” Margaret approached the window, and the morning sun made her hair look golden. “In practice, you should only use it to sustain someone until professional help arrives. If the chances for that are slim… don’t. The spell won’t help anyone back up. It won’t even stop them from degrading - just keep them alive.”

Mary pondered the consequences of what she’d just heard. It was… she didn’t know what it was. “Is it just for one person? Or could I…?”

Margaret shook her head, and her hair sent a web of swirling reflexes dancing on the wall. “The cost of the spell is steep even for a single cast. You’ll learn more about such things later on, but in general, spells tend to behave differently if you try to cast several at once, or their stronger version. For now, you have to only know this - to save one life, it takes a year for each hour. For two, it’d take ten. No one had survived trying to hold on to three others, so no one even knows how much it’d take. If you try, you’ll just kill both yourself and the two you could have saved otherwise.”

“Have you ever cast it? In action, I mean?”

Margaret didn’t respond, staring into the distant star. Mary was beginning to lose hope that she’d get her answer, and, well - it was probably a private thing, maybe too private. She was just going to apologise for asking when the girl quietly spoke. “In the nearest future, the most likely people to need such a spell from you would be Hans and me. Honey, if it comes to this, and both of us would be down, I don’t want you to hesitate. And afterwards, I don’t want you to have any regrets. If you choose to save any of us at all, let it be him. He’s got more time left.”

Before Mary could say anything in answer, Margaret turned to her, and some of the usual cheerfulness returned to her voice. “But, if you’re to have any choice at all, you need to know the spell first. Here, let me show you….”