Lies & Labyrinths

It wasn’t even that far of a walk to the next class, which somehow made things blur even more smoothly together. Dwema chattered idly as they went, telling bits and pieces of Dwarf culture as they walked the halls. [25]

“My family hails from the west. Well, my da’ was. I grew up most of my life in the east, in the Heart of Eldberg [26].”

Lilith gasped. “I know it! I could see the mountain in the distance from where I lived!”

“We ran it My great grandpa was an Inheritor of Earth.”

“The what?”

Dwema laughed. “He had the True Rune of Earth. He could call on the element at will.”

“What happened to him?”

Dwema grew quiet.

“Touchy subject. Got it. So your family is from the West? Mine’s from the East.”

“You’re from elf land then.” Dwema said, matter of factly.

“Pretty sure it was just wheat land.” Lilith replied.

“My people used to fight with the elves, but one day they all left. My da’ says there are more humes than ever, but you all aren’t bad. Just the Stygians you have to watch out for.”

“What? You mean those three new kids who look more terrified than anything?”

“Yeah, my grand-da’ said after a few tankards the Stygians a sign of the end times. It means that the seven hells are full, and the Downlanders are looking to expand.”

That had been yet another lesson that Lilith had learned: Everyone’s family seemed a bit prejudiced the further back you went, especially the more drunk they were.

“So is that what conjuration deals with?”

“Kinda. You should ask the staff when you get a chance.”

“This class has a staff? Shouldn’t it just be a teacher?”

Dwema grinned. “Yeah, well, you’ll find out.”

Each class had occupied the same amount of space, and yet somehow all of them had seemed wildly different. This classroom had no chalkboard, instead a large curtain that covered the back area, and a large brass box hung over a rather large circle carved with various runes and glyphs. The desks were around that centerpiece, and there was thankfully an empty seat next to Dwema.

“So where’s the staff?” Lilith whispered.

“STAFF!? THERE IS NO STAFF, ONLY I, Conrad The Conjuror!” a booming voice echoed as all the lights went out in the room, a gigantic head appearing below the brass box, floating over the center ring.

“AND WHO ARE YOU, LITTLE GIRL?”

“L-Lilith Lavoi sir” she found herself squeaking, sinking into her seat. She thought she caught a few giggles as she dipped lower and lower, blocking her vision of the gigantic head with the desk.

“SIT UP STRAIGHT YOUNG LADY, ESPECIALLY IN THE PRESENCE OF GREATNESS!” The sound of thunder crackled.

The Disembodied head of Conrad the Conjurer changed into the full body in a swirl of smoke. He was tall, green, with tusks not unlike Groundskeeper McDougal.

All of this was to say, he was most certainly an Orc. Which, as far as Lilith was concerned, was impossible. There hadn’t been an orc sighting in 20 years, after the end of the Calamity.

“Lilith Lavoi, I have conjured things greater than your mind could perceive! Bound an entire army with blades and armor that could be summoned across the world, able to march into a besieged city as prisoners and leave as victors. I have conjured the very underworld itself for parlay, and drew all Seven Princes to attend a negotiation, settling a thousands year dispute! And even more impressively, I have taught this class without missing a day in twenty years! HA! HA-HA!” The orc professor laughed heartily, patting his belly in a 1,23 cadence with the near-roar of a joyful noise. “But, enough about me, tell me, new student, about you! I apologize that I could not be there for your assembly. Would you care to tell me what brought you into our esteemed hall?”

“I…” She hadn’t expected to be put on the spot. Lilith’s mind raced, watching as every eye fell on her. She thought for a moment, then decided a lie wouldn’t do. “I sort of made up a hand in my mind and used it to pick something up.”

Conrad the Conjurer grinned a grin that looked like a predator about to pounce. “Oh, really? I would rather like to see that. May I give you some things to move?”

Lilith nodded, slowly sitting up straight in her seat while all the other children snickered.

Professor Conrad stepped away, walking with his arms behind his back as three pedestals appeared, followed by an apple, a melon, and a large iron ball that came to rest on each.

“Please, if you would.”

Lilith reached out with her physical arm, grabbing it arm to prepare herself, then reached out with her mind. She picked up the apple with relative ease, tossing it up and down as if a ball in her hand.

“Hmm…” was all Conrad said, placing a finger at his lips while he watched.

Lilith let go of the apple, moving on to the melon. It was a more awkward an object, and it took a few attempts, but eventually she grabbed hold of it, lifting it up with a little bit more strain.

Conrad nodded. “And the last?”

Lilith closed her mind, focusing all her strength on the hand. She grit her teeth, picking up around the ball. It wobbled, lifting merely an inch before the weight was too much and Lilith quickly let go, panting in frustrated pain.

“Well done! What you all have witnessed is the Ratio of Mind to Weight Limitation. This last object here weighs roughly half a ton, while only appearing to be a watermelon. Telekinesis, while a lost art like telepathy, was researched heavily before its loss. That is where we get the ratio from, which applies to the Spectral Hand, which it seems Ms. Lavoi is an adept user of. The same basic principles apply to the hand as a conduit for the mind as much as directly to the mind: The heavier the object, the harder to move without great aetherial strain, or physical affliction. Thank you Ms. Lavoi, you may be seated.” For the briefest of moments, it seemed that the man was smiling.

Lilith returned back to her seat, feeling relief that the attention was off of her for once. Dwema watched, skeptical at first, as Lilith scooted her chair in and sunk her head into her crossed arms on the desk.

“Is that what you did at the assembly?”

Lilith nodded her head.

“That’s pretty cool.”

“It’s all I can do. Bugger all of help it is.”

“Well, it’s probably got you an easy A in class for the rest of the year. Professor Conrad invented the Spectral Hand spell. I’m pretty sure he’s not going to be asking you for anything else now. Did you see that smile he gave you?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never made him smile like that. That’s big praise coming from a staff.”

“What?”

“I’ll show you after class. But first, how did you do that? All of that?”

Lilith’s eyes darted around the room, before leaning over. “You can’t tell anyone. Not a soul.”

“Dwarves are big on promises.”[27]

“Yeah okay well humans are gossipy nags and I don’t know what to tell you, the rule of the schoolyard says we spit on this.”

Both quickly spat in their hand, slapping it together in a terrifying display of lack of understanding of how germs were passed, shaking once. Lilith grabbed her left sleeve, looking around once more to make sure no one was paying attention (everyone else listening to the lecture on the structure of conjuring their own Mage’s Assistants, a good quarter earlier than originally scheduled).

Dwema stared at Lilith’s wrist, mouth agape. “Did you-”

“I don’t know any magic.” Lilith mumbled under her breath.

“But you do. You cast a spell from your own body as the source?”

Dwema turned. “Professor Conrad, can we be excused for girl problems?”

“Yes gods please don’t say another word.” Conrad said, waving them off.

Dwema grabbed Lilith’s hand, dragging her out of the classroom, talking when they were out of earshot. “You shouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“I mean, I took a copy of a spell from a scroll.”

“It doesn’t matter. Spell scrolls are used for ease of access because once the spell’s used, the parchment burns up. Your arm, you can’t use it anymore?”

Lilith shook her head no. They took a right, going out onto a back eavement around the side of the building. Dwema stopped Lilith, reaching a hand out to Lilith’s left arm. “May I?”

Lilith nodded, offering her arm out. The dwarf girl rolled her sleeve up, running a hand against the markings and the flesh. “Does it hurt?”

“I can’t feel anything in the arm. It’s like it’s asleep.”

“And yet it’s not burned up… You’re using your own willpower to sustain the spell.”

“Yeah?”

“That’s an affinity for Law Magic. Maybe you have a connection with the elves after all.”

“Come again?”

“The elves. Caretakers of Law, blessed with passing on magic. Locked in the eternal struggle against the wiles of chaos magic? Pointy ears? Gods, you really don’t know your magic history do you?”

“I know the proper techniques to farm wheat, and also the way to make an invisible fist with quite a wallop.”

The two shared the knowing glance that only a pair of rivals could understand.

“Well, Elves were stewards of law magic, and all magic that could be written. And Chaos Magic, the instinctual magic, was a sort of mish-mash of a bunch of places. And they had a buncha servants, but the orcs were sort of the main ones. But they’re all gone now. Both of them.”

“What about Groundskeeper McDougal?”

“He’s a half orc.”

“Okay, well what about Professor Conrad?”

Dwema giggled again.

“Would you stop doing that!? I really hate being the butt of a joke without an apparent punchline.”

“It’s better to see it. You wouldn’t believe me.” Dwema looked around, then crept around the back of the school, where the stone held a nice patch of lawn, and a rather large pile of sod a few feet away from the back windows where Conrad’s room was located. Dwema drew a pattern in the dirt, muttering under her breath as she focused her attention. Brick steps grew, the water of the soil dripping out as a dry path up to the window sprung between the pair and the Window. Dwema pressed her fingers to her lips in the universal message to pipe the heck down, then gestured for Lilith to follow up the newly fashioned stairs.

Lilith followed, unsure what she’d be seeing.

“Huh.” She said softly under her breath.

She hadn’t expected that.

The pair climbed back down.

“Does he know?”

“That he’s just the staff of Professor Conrad? Oh yes. He gets rather depressed if you mention it to him.”

It was rather depressing. The back room, which had been some interesting things for the other teachers so far, had been a laboratory of some kind, with a staff attached to a centerpiece. It held a rather impressive purple jewel at the end, vibrating and glowing as the conjuration of Professor Conrad walked around inside the amplifying field in the classroom.

“How long has he been like that?”

“A staff? Well, Professor Conrad managed to negotiate a truce with the Seven Princes after conjuring them simultaneously.”

“He got a bunch of stuffy royals together?”

“The Seven Princes of Hell.”

“Oh.” That sounded far worse. “...oh.” Lilith said, realizing after.

“So all they found after…?”

“Was the staff. Yes. But he recorded all his lessons into the staff so he could work in private in his laboratory.”

It sounded like a way to cut costs on hiring a new teacher. [28]

“Do you think his lab would have more stuff about law magic?”

“Maybe. You could check the library too, though. All spells are copy-written there, signed by the original artist.”

“Oh good, that sounds like an Arleigh class…” Lilith sighed. She was dreading the last class of the day, the one that would be the longest.

“It’s not so bad.”

“It is if you can’t use your writing hand anymore.”

Dwema frowned. “I guess not. At least you get to spend all your first period class practicing writing your name.”

“You saw that?”

“Yeah, she left it up for all the other classes to see. Standard humiliation tactic.”

“I don’t quite think I like her.”

“She only cares about her useful students. All the work she does for the school’s funding…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… The Veilweavers are the only sanctioned group in the world that can use magic, and that means they’ve got first claim on any enchanted artifacts found. That includes Dwarven land. I saw Professor Klymviner long before I attended here, at Eldberg. She leads the archeology division and apparently they found something deep in the mountains she was interested in.”

“What do you think she’s up to?”

“Same thing as she does in class, she looks for valuable tools. Most of it is long buried stuff. She figures out its use, and then cribs it to sell to the masses. The latest was the personal bubble shields she’s been selling to nobles from what I’ve heard from gossip.”

Lilith didn’t much care for that thought. Something about the rich having an extra level of protection that the common folk couldn’t afford seemed wrong, like giving the first place rider in a horse race a head start.

Suddenly, Lilith didn’t feel so bad for taking the mask.

“Are you in Scrollmaking?”

Dwema squinched her face up. “I did my semester and got out. Sorry.”

“Oh well,” Lilith sighed. Worth a shot.”

The pair crept back to class, sitting together and going over the textbook for good measure as Lilith helped Dwema practice the Spectral Hand spell. The girl made good progress, though it did feel odd that Lilith was the one assisting with a spell for once.

Eventually the bell rang, and Lilith knew her time with Dwema was over for the day. They parted ways outside the class, the dread beginning to take hold. An uninterrupted class with Arleigh that would bleed straight through the rest of the day until detention ended that night, and somehow that made Scrollmaking the worst class of them all. Lucky for her, that was her next stop on the longest first day of her life.

Footnotes:

[25] One had to unlearn a few misconceptions and keep one’s tongue when learning about a people, from a group of people. They weren’t all greedy gemstone hoarders for one, and not everyone had a beard. Lilith was especially thankful she hadn’t asked that question; it felt like a prickly one.

[26] This one had always confused Lilith; burgh meant town to her people, but berg meant mountain to the dwarves. Languages were weird.

[27] And the truth. There was an old dwarven saying: Never lie to a dwarf. (They weren’t too creative with their sayings, all of which were fairly straightforward things like Never Dig Straight Down)

[28] This was true. It helped pay for the teacher’s lounge’s amazing invention that used coffee beans and hot water to make a potion that could keep one up during even the most rigorous grading sessions. All of the teachers agreed without needing to say that it was quite worth the sacrifice of a fellow colleague (and would be readily willing to part with another) for the access to such powerful magic.