Self Studies: The Thorns of Charbon Institute, page 13
I’d fallen asleep on my stack of books about the nature of good and evil. Alice tried to shoo me out, but I froze, looking out at the dark empty halls. My attackers came to the forefront of my memory. I could almost taste the bloody knife in my mouth.
It had taken me three tries to text Beryl asking for help. Eventually, my fear of the halls drove my finger to press send on the text message. A few minutes later, he’d brightened my world. He bopped me on the nose before wrapping me in his arms. Despite my heavy reading and fear, he’d managed to end my night with a smile.
Too bad my subconscious had focused on something else.
I took another deep breath in, held it, and released. The sound of light footsteps pulled me out of my thoughts. I’d already forgotten knocking was the reason I’d woken up.
“Saffron?” Mercedes asked as she smoothly opened our door.
I bolted to a seated position. The alarm on my phone hadn’t gone off, and the black box wasn’t where I’d left it. After a quick, desperate search, I found it on the floor. The dark screen wouldn’t turn on, despite me charging it last night.
Saffron stiffly leaned against the open door frame and folded his arms. “Mercedes.” He gave her a polite nod. “I thought you’d be running this morning.”
“It’s Aptitudes this weekend, remember, sweetie?” Mercedes said.
Movement caught my eye as Mercedes wrapped her hands around Saffron’s arm. She pulled him into our room and pressed her lips to his. Saffron stiffly reciprocated.
Something unfamiliar and unpleasant squeezed my gut. A sudden need to rip the two apart rushed through me. I had to force my butt to stay on the bed.
Saffron didn’t like me. Although he’d gone out of his way to help me, he’d also made it clear he didn’t want to have anything to do with me. Our passionate evening had been his way of protecting Professor Garnet. A sating of pure carnal desire brought on by magic. Just like the professor had said. I didn’t know why it hurt to admit that, but it did.
Before the strange emotions could show on my face, I fled to the washroom. Cold water and a bit of quick meditation helped me compartmentalize my feelings. I pulled my institute uniform over my head with ease. With my hoodie armor on, I re-entered my dorm.
Saffron stood with Mercedes draped around his middle. He eyed my bed. “Why don’t you have bedding?”
Mercedes giggled.
Saffron took a step closer, shrugging Mercedes off him. “What’s the red stuff smudged on the mattress? It looks like it was writing.”
I shrugged, grateful my attempts to get the lipstick out had at least made the words unidentifiable. Saffron already hated me enough; I didn’t need to start something between him and his girlfriend or whatever they had going on.
Mercedes reclaimed her spot at his side and whispered in his ear. Again, that twinge of unhappiness and irrational anger spiked in my stomach. I wrinkled my nose when I recognized it for what it was; jealousy.
“I’ll see you at lunch, Mercy,” Saffron said, snapping me out of my musing. “Aphrodite, we’re already late.”
I huffed and tried to pick up my bag with one arm, but I couldn’t lift it. My quick inspection of the inside came up with nothing different from yesterday. Squatting down, I got the straps over my shoulders and drove up with my legs. It still felt too heavy, but it was on my back. Maybe I was weak from the healing potion; I’d never used one before. I had no idea what the side effects were.
“Aphy,” Saffron snapped, already moving. “Now.”
Mercedes, who’d been hiding a smirk behind one of her perfectly manicured hands, scowled at me. Her unhappiness made me unreasonably happy for some reason. I hurried after the grumpy Greek God.
Unlike the day before, he instructed me to grab something easy to eat. I shoved a breakfast burrito into my mouth while we walked. Focused on my food, I didn’t keep track of where we were until Saffron stopped outside one of the many thick wood doors.
To my surprise, he took a moment to look me over and settle the hood evenly where it rested on my shoulders. “Your class schedule is unorthodox.” He handed me a piece of paper. “This is Magus Terra’s class, Practical Magic Application.” He pressed two thick books into my hands. “You’re already behind. Magus Terra stresses discipline, including arriving to class early as he purposely makes it the first class of the day, so there are no excuses.”
My pulse quickened.
If I were a mage, like Professor Garnet believed, I wouldn’t have frozen yesterday. I shouldn’t even be in a Practical Magic Application class.
Saffron narrowed his eyes. His usual scowl softened slightly. One of his fingers lightly brushed under my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“You’re going to do great,” Saffron said. “Keith told me how fast you slipped into a mage-trance. I’ll be waiting for you, right here, when class is over. Like someone should have been your first day.”
I managed a nod, and Saffron removed his hand. His shoulders twitched like he wanted to move his arms but held them back. After an odd pause, he stepped away from me, his scowl deepening.
He opened the door a little too hard and marched into the room. With my hood pulled up, I followed him into a sea of judgmental gazes. I focused on the giant of a man at the front. Magus Terra towered over everything. At least seven feet tall, dramatic red robes draped around his fit form. They perfectly complimented the brown man-bun and braided beard trailing down his front.
“We received her schedule this morning,” Saffron lied to cover up my oversleeping.
He handed Magus Terra a paper; my pink slip stapled to it.
The Magus glanced over the note before waving dismissively to Saffron. He gestured to the rows of occupied desks. “Find a seat, Aphrodite.”
The door closed behind me with Saffron’s exit, and I turned towards the class. A few young adults my age sat scattered amongst the teens. One boy didn’t look more than twelve. Derek’s mad waving got my attention. The kid sitting at the desk next to him moved to the back, and I gratefully took his spot.
My bag cracked against the stone floor as I dropped it, drawing the attention of the class. Eyebrows went up, and a few people laughed. I tightened the strings of my hood.
“As I was saying,” Magus Terra continued drawing the class’s attention to himself. “Magic exists in three forms. Stolen, external, and internal. Although the sources of magic are different, the way we use magic is fundamentally the same, while being unique to each mage.”
I scrambled to get out my notebook, unbelievably grateful to see Derek opening the correct textbook for me.
“Derek.” I winced as Magus Terra called my friend’s name.
The color drained from his freckled face before he stood. “Yes, Magus Terra.”
The Magus caressed the sides of his beard. “Why are you at the Institute?”
Derek swallowed and glanced at me.
“Answer me now, or leave this class and do not return.”
Derek’s shoulders dropped. “I killed three people.”
My heart fell for my friend. I didn’t know his history, but it had to have been an accident, like Roisin.
“And how did you kill those people?” The Magus asked.
“I,” Derek stuttered. “I called down a lightning storm.”
I looked around the room, but no one reacted to Derek’s story. My peers played on their phones or took notes out of their textbooks like this was completely normal.
I took a calming breath.
Magus Terra nodded sharply. “And how did you call down your lightning storm?”
Derek licked his lips. “I believe I vibrated the molecules in the air until they possessed enough energy to become lightning.”
“Excellent, sit,” Magus Terra said.
I didn’t have a chance to comfort the kid before Magus Terra called on another student. Her story was similar, though she’d drowned her stepfather with water that she’d somehow made appear out of thin air.
“Wrong, sit.” Magus Terra said.
I blinked; how could someone be wrong about their past?
Magus Terra’s gaze swept the room. “Phillip, same question.”
The kid who couldn’t be more than twelve stood. “I blew up an airplane!” He said excitedly. “All the people ran; a few even came down the ramps on fire! I used fire to heat the metal.”
My jaw dropped at his joy. He’d hurt people, probably killed them, and he was happy about it? I withdrew further into myself.
“Wrong, sit,” Magus Terra said, shaking his head. “As much as you all might feel it is, magic’s not connected to your emotions or the traditional five elements of life. Natural or Rimmed Mage, magic’s a combination of the understood and physics.” He walked to the wall behind his desk. “Magic’s energy that must start somewhere and has everything to do with movement and control. Neither fire nor water can appear out of thin air. You drowned your step-father using the fluid and the energy already stored in his body.” Magus Terra looked dramatically around the room. “You all reacted emotionally. Your basic fight or flight kicked in. Without exception, you must be able to see past your emotions, good or bad, if you ever want to graduate from this program.”
I looked down at my desk; the metal reflected my face in a wavy blur.
Magic wasn’t dark or light. Magic was magic. Damon had told me the same over and over. Last night, the book I’d been reading focused on big moral concepts, like killing people or destroying their futures. I’d not done any of those things. But, what Damon did with my magic, I didn’t know. His actions must have hurt people, or I wouldn't be here.
I closed my eyes, remembering my conversation with Alice after she’d startled me awake in the Library.
“Heavy or light reading, always return your books to the carts,” Alice said cheerily. “It’s important we know what books are being used and how often.”
Fear and uncertainty made my breaths come too fast. “Why?” Misdirected anger from everything that had happened to me swelled in my chest. “Why aren’t you judging me? Why are you so nice to me?”
“I’m not judging you because the world isn’t black and white,” Alice explained, her posture wilting. “And I’m nice to everyone. That’s who I am. Life isn’t about being good or evil; it’s about doing the best you can in each moment. It’s all any of us can do.”
Magus Terra’s voice rose and pulled me out of my memory. “Now, direct your attention to the diagram on page 24.”
I turned my page; dread made my hands fumble. Instead of something I couldn’t understand appearing, a table of numbers met my eyes. Red, yellow, and blue rows spanned across columns filled with figures. Although I didn’t know what the figures meant, I could see patterns in their growth. It calmed me.
“Once a fire is going, it’s easy to keep it lit,” Magus Terra explained. “However, all of you are here because you’ve only been able to add to the flames. After these last three months of reading and theorizing, it’s time to try and light your first spark.”
He pointed behind him, and a copy of the page in front of me appeared on the wall.
“Find the row that’s your power source,” he instructed. “If you have mixed sources, as most of you do, you’ll need to try to find a balance. I shouldn’t need to remind you but, red-rims are stolen, blue-rims are internal, and yellow-rims are external. If you don’t understand what colors exist within you, go back to art class. Remember that blue and red mixed together make purple and the like.”
“What about Natural Mages,” one of the students asked.
Magus Terra gave a sharp nod. “You have equal access to all three. However, you must develop your skills and often find a predisposition to one or two. And no, it does not make Natural Mages more powerful, despite what they say.”
“It makes them balanced,” the kid who lit the airplane on fire stated boldly. “That’s what the MA agent told my dad.”
“That’s what we call a baseless claim and a discussion for a different class,” Magus Terra stated. “We’re starting with column one; your goal is individual to your abilities. Those who need to steal their magic may take one of the potted plants off the shelf in the back. Before you ask, they’ve been modified to hold exactly the amount of life energy you need for this first working.”
No one moved. “This isn’t a group challenge. Begin!” A few murmers filled the room. I looked at the chart. I wasn’t any of these things. I couldn’t touch my magic.
“I didn’t mean to kill those people,” Derek said, turning to me. I forced my attention away from my internal conflict. “I didn’t even know I had magic. I was so upset, and the storm….”
“What part of not a group challenge did you not understand, Derek?” Magus Terra’s boomed. “Aphrodite. I expect you to be caught up with our theoretical lessons in the next three weeks. Class time will be spent reading and acquainting yourself with the basics of physics and energy movement, without distracting your fellow students.” He pulled out a piece of paper and moved to my desk. “Supplemental reading from the library on magical theory. I suggest you don’t skip it.”
I took the paper with a nod.
Magus Terra made his way around the room, circulating like Professor Garnet had during my very first class. A longing filled my gut. I wanted to have another class with the professor, but my schedule only had class names; I had no idea who taught them.
The students began shifting around me. Some sat in a meditative pose; others frowned at their hands in confusion. A short girl with frighteningly frizzy hair grinned at a flame dancing on her palm.
“I believe you,” I said quickly and quietly to Derek. “Your past doesn’t change our friendship. We can chat later, okay?”
Derek nodded before sliding onto the floor and bracing his wrists on his crossed knees. His face scrunched up in concentration. I wanted to remind him to relax, but I suddenly realized I didn’t know if it was the right advice. I shouldn’t be saying anything. Instead, I opened the textbook to page one.
‘The Most Common Ways to Access Magic: An Overview into the Line Between Physics and Imagination.’
I sat by myself and studied my phone at my little table in the cafeteria. Or at least, the table where I’d sat for lunch yesterday. Unsure how to charge it, I tried connecting it to the socket on my hip. A picture of a battery appeared on the screen, along with a large one percent in the middle. I wiggled happily.
My bookbag rested on top of the table. I scooted closer to it and slid my phone into a side pocket without unplugging it before turning back to my lunch. The soft wheat bread that came with my split pea soup dissolved in my mouth. I used it to thoroughly clean every last bit of green out of my bowl.
As far as I could tell from my morning classes, the Institute grouped us into three ‘levels’ Although beginners tended to be teens, on the cusp of puberty, a few older and younger kids were mixed in. Most students kept to their level, but a few were like me - filling in their education where they needed.
Yet another piece of wet paper slid down my hood. I ignored it. Most beginners couldn’t use magic yet. Even if they could, the use of magic outside of class appeared to be regulated somehow. Though Sandy used it to clean up a spill – so maybe it wasn’t. It could be fear of the Aptitudes which kept students in check; Saffron had said something like that.
I rubbed my eyes, wishing even one thing here could be simple.
A second piece of wet paper nailed me from the back. Spitballs and nasty notes seemed to be the best my younger peers could do at the moment. Some sticky substance now clung to my skirt, making it bunch up on one side. And, of course, they took pictures of everything on their little stupid working black boxes of hate.
My hand shook as I picked up my drink. I took a few deep breaths and forced myself to relax. Life was full of ups and downs. Even living in Damon’s happiness, I’d experienced this.
A happy little noise chirped from my phone when it got enough juice and began to power on. I unplugged it from my hip, settling my skirt back into place. I wrinkled my nose. Nurse Norah told me my socket was illegal experimental tech, it could be part of my evil, and I didn’t even know it. My list of things I needed to look into kept getting longer.
A light chime sounded as my phone hooked up to the Institute's network. I pushed my dark thoughts to the side and opened my text messages.
Beryl the Boyfriend: Good morning, my goddess.
Beryl the Boyfriend: Not even an emoji back?
Beryl the Boyfriend: Lunch?
The smile splitting my face almost hurt. Even my concerns about Beryl weren’t able to cut through the rush of excitement that flushed my body at his three simple texts.
Aphrodite: Sorry. Phone died last night. At lunch. Just finished eating.
Beryl the Boyfriend: Phew, I was getting worried. Lurking in a doorway ^_~ Don’t move, on my way.
I pulled my eyes away from the phone screen as someone slipped into a chair in front of me. I recognized Advisor Crowe’s student assistant. My smile fell.
“Not as excited to see me as what’s on your phone?” Ram asked.
I shook my head, which made Ram laugh. His massive curly-haired presence took over the table. He spread his long legs on either side of my knees. If I tried to move to either side, I’d brush against him.
“I can fix that,” Ram said.
He plucked my phone out of my grasp, pressing on the touch screen. “It’s been brought to your advisor’s attention that you’ve yet to open up Mêler.”
After tapping a few more times, he flipped the phone around. Hesitantly I took it back. He’d opened the app. A picture of me, taken from slightly above, sat at the top along with my name. My swipe card, nestled between my corset-propped cleavage, dominated the image. Under it, anyone could post whatever they wanted.
The textured black background didn’t change as I scrolled past a picture of me pulling my skirt up to try and get the goop off of it and a second of me straining to pick up my bag. I slowed at a blurring pic of me eating with the four girls last night. Although it looked innocent, the person posting it had added the caption: “disease spreading.”
