The following students will have to take part in earlier or later class scheduling due to the recent Chosen One attending the Academy.
This message only applies to students taking "Basics of Casting" and "Magical History."
Students taking Basics of Casting will arrive several hours early, while students of Magical History will attend class much later in the day.
Feel free to reach out to the front office if you have any questions.
There will be no exceptions.
Have a tolerable day.
Message sent out to the caretakers of all students attending the two aforementioned classes.
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Gwyn sat at the dining table with Artero and Elise, who seemed to be avoiding eye contact with one another.
After no one said a word for quite some time, Gwyn decided to erase the silence.
"So... what happened last night? Aren't you two normally at each other's throats?"
They both looked at one another briefly and spoke at the same time.
"Nothing happened."
Gwyn's eyes went wide with surprise.
"That's totally not suspicious at all."
"We just..."
"Talked." Elise finished.
"Want to share what you talked about or...?"
Just then, Rodrick came through the door with food in hand, immediately erasing this conversation from Gwyn's mind.
"I brought peach pie!" Rodrick shouted.
Everyone collectively groaned.
"...and other stuff."
He brought a red-and-white platter, covered with a dome, to the table, lifting it to reveal a myriad of breakfast foods.
Gwyn immediately grabbed eggs, some kind of steak, and a piece of bread.
The Royals were hesitant about the food. When they finally decided to fill a plate, their utensils kept overlapping, and they constantly apologized to one another for the inconvenience.
Gwyn eyed them suspiciously.
"Alright, what is going on with you two?" She turned to Rodrick. "Any ideas?"
"They haven't acted like this for a while..." Rodrick said, taking a whole slice of pie and stuffing it in his mouth.
Elise's ears flushed.
"Nothing happened!"
"Did you two kiss?" Gwyn asked, not the slightest bit offended.
Artero spit out his drink.
"N-no!"
"Then what's going on? I can't sit and eat with all this sexual tension in the air."
Elise stood.
"There is no tension, and if there was. It isn't sexual."
"Right, and I'm a Whisperer," Gwyn said sarcastically.
"But you aren't a Whisperer," Artero said.
Gwyn rolled her eyes.
"Yeah. That's the joke." Gwyn finished her plate and stood up. "Well, I have to head to class. My offer still stands, by the way."
She winked at the Royals.
Elise immediately turned a vivid shade of red.
"What offer?" Artero asked.
Elise stared blankly at him and excused herself.
"You really are dense, Arty."
Rodrick put a consoling hand on Artero's shoulder.
"Young Master, it must be so frustrating to be you sometimes."
The Prince crossed his arms.
"If I didn't know any better, I would think that was supposed to be an insult."
Rodrick excused himself from the table.
"That's because it is."
Gwyn crossed the gardens and eventually arrived at Kaldere Academy. The halls were empty except for the students attending her class, which made it exceptionally easy to find, for once. Her classmates gave her angry glares through tired eyes.
This classroom had a little plaque labeled "Confusion".
I hope this class isn't confusing.
Gwyn entered the room and was greeted by a familiar face. A familiar face she didn't wish to see.
"Hello, Gwynevere Grim," Anastasia said. "Did you enjoy the Ela Lunaris festival?"
Gwyn stared at her as though Anastasia had grown an extra head.
"It was... fun. What about you?"
"Oh, I wasn't there. I had other matters to attend to. Would you like to sit next to me?"
She pointed to a seat in the front. This classroom wasn't like the previous ones she's been in. The desks were abstract shapes, but the colors were monochrome and dull. Even the lighting within the room was a little depressing.
This can't begood. Why is she here?
"Sure..."
Gwyn didn't know why Anastasia was suddenly being cordial with her, but she could sense something was off. Gwyn took her seat and stared at the other students, who dragged their feet into the classroom with droopy eyes and ears. The last to enter the classroom was their teacher.
"In all my years of teaching."
A skinny man with greasy dark hair and an oversized hat strolled into the classroom. He did not look pleased.
"Okay, Class, as I'm sure you're all aware of our new arrangements, thanks to a certain someone." He stared at Gwyn, and she sank into her seat. "No matter. We shall make the most of it. Take these textbooks and turn to page thirty-three."
He cast lesser magic and floated a book to each student. Every book he placed politely on each student's desk, except for Gwyn's.
"Don't mind him," Anastasia whispered to Gwyn. "Elves aren't known to be morning persons."
Gwyn just stared at Anastasia, not responding.
Who does she think she is for talking to me as if she hasn't threatened me before?
The Chosen One turned to the page the teacher requested and began reading. The imagery showed different types of weapons. Swords, rings, wands, staves. Under the images, the word "CATALYST" was in bold letters.
"Today we will learn about catalysts," the teacher yawned. "Ah, sorry. I am not myself this morning." He turned and pointed his wand at the board. "I am Mr. Felsp. I will be your teacher for this semester."
Gwyn studied the images and felt the ring around her finger. She remembered Leo telling her that her mother's ring had become a catalyst, but she hadn't truly understood what that meant.
"Alright, so catalysts. What are they?" He turned to the board. "Well, they can be anything. Literally." With a turn, he pointed his wand at a student. "Name something."
"Uh… uh…" The student looked around cluelessly. "A desk!"
The teacher nodded and pointed to another student.
"You!"
"A book?" The young woman answered as if it were a question.
He nodded again, smiling.
"Now you."
He pointed to Anastasia.
"A ring," she said demurely.
Mr. Felsp crossed his arms and nodded.
"Good, good. Now you must see, my lovely students. What you all have just named are potential catalysts."
"What?" A student said aloud. "How can a desk be a catalyst?"
Mr. Felsp smiled wickedly.
"I'm glad you asked. Anything can be a catalyst; it just matters what it is made of, not what it is."
"How so?" Anastasia asked, playing along.
Isn't she supposed to be a super-powerful mage? Why is she in a basics of casting class?
Anastasia's presence greatly unsettled the Chosen One. It felt as though, at any moment, Anastasia was going to attack her unprovoked.
"Ah, Ms. Anastasia, I'm sure you know, but a catalyst comes from a very specific entity." He looked at the class. "Can someone tell me what that is?"
The class went silent. Gwyn was studying the page before her. She read the words carefully, but didn't know what she was looking for.
"Aurelias Ventas. Or simply, tree roots."
The class looked dumbfounded.
"Tree roots? What? Not like… the bark or the twigs or whatever?" A young man asked, looking at his own wand as if for the first time.
"See, my simple students. It is very difficult to draw magic from our bodies. Lesser magic is easy to perform, but its uses are limited. Casting any magic worth a huff without a catalyst is nearly impossible." He paced between the desks. "Yet, why did I mention tree roots? Why are they important?"
A student raised their hand.
"Um… magic?"
The teacher chuckled.
"You are more correct than you know." He pointed his wand at the board, and a map of Keceo appeared clearly. "Keceo, or what's left of it, is magic incarnate. Nature itself is magic. The grass, the trees, flowers, mountains, rain, clouds, water. All of it is magic or has some connection to it."
Gwyn raised her hand.
"What does that mean exactly?"
"What that means is we are aliens to this planet. Where we are made of flesh and blood, the planet is an otherworldly element, likely delivered by Gods long before our existence."
The class mumbled excitedly amongst themselves.
"Then how come we can cast magic?" One student asked.
"There are legends. Myths. Stories." He paced in front of the class. "No one can say for sure. But I have a story I like particularly."
"What's that?" Anastasia asked, with a hint of genuineness in her voice.
"Ah. If you are one to believe in the Gods and in obtaining such notoriety. Then the story is told as thus. Two gods existed. Magg'ik and Po'am. They loved each other very much. So much, in fact, they decided to have a child."
"Gods can have kids?" A student asked.
"Let me finish." He closed his eyes and continued. "Unfortunately, the child they tried to bear was stillborn."
Gwyn gasped, not expecting such tragedy.
"The parents, Magg'ik and Po'am, were so grief-stricken, they decided to take their own lives." The teacher's face was grim. "Yet, it was in this sacrifice that Keceo was born."
The class was silent. The story was simple, but… tragic. No one knew what to say.
"How does that explain where magic comes from?" One student asked.
"It does, dear child." He stood at the front of the class and wrote on the board. "Magg'ik, which is where the name 'magic' comes from, was the God of Mystical Influence and Mana."
"So that's where magic comes from?" Gwyn asked.
The teacher ignored her and continued.
"Now, can anyone recall the name of the other God?"
Anastasia raised her hand.
"Poem?"
"Po-am, Anastasia. It sounds similar, but that is also where the word 'poem' derives. Now, can anyone recall how we cast spells in Keceo?"
The teacher asked the students, and it immediately clicked for most of them.
"Holy shit! We are channeling magic from that God's child!" A student blurted.
"Language! But yes. Holy shit. It's what I choose to believe; others think magic is an element that only elves can channel." He looked at Gwyn. "Which is obviously not the case, and that mindset of superiority is what has given our people an ego."
The class looked awkward at this statement.
Mr. Felsp sighed.
"So yes, it is believed that when we channel magic, we are quite literally using the connection Magg'ik had with her lover, Po'am. Which is why we have to sing, rhyme, create a poem, sonnet, what have you, to cast magic ourselves."
The class, including Gwyn, was in awe. She thought it was just a weird rule the elves made up a long time ago, but the idea that there might be godly implications to how magic worked excited her greatly.
"Enough of hypotheticals, however. Your assignment will be written on the board. Finish reading the chapter. If you have any questions, I'll be taking a nap."
Mr. Felsp collapsed in his chair and put his hat over his eyes, then snored loudly.
Gwyn continued reading her book while working on the assignment, but certain aspects confused her. During this confusion, a light tap caught her attention.
Gwyn turned, and Anastasia was trying to get her attention.
"Yes, Anastasia?"
"Just Ana is fine."
"Okay... Ana?"
"Do you need help?"
Gwyn scooted away from the elf.
"What's it to you?"
"Well, I've noticed you've been stuck on that question for a while now."
Gwyn didn't even look at Anastasia.
"I'll be fine."
"Okay… but just in case."
Anastasia dropped a paper on Gwyn's desk. Anastasia then walked out of the classroom, and the bell rang.
Gwyn unfolded the paper, and it was all the answers to the questions on the board.
"...Why did she?"
Gwyn wondered if they were correct, but folded the paper and headed to the next class.
"I'll see you tomorrow, students!"
Mr. Felsp opened his desk, took out a flask and took a very long swig. Once everyone had departed, he silently cried to himself.
"Blasted Chosen One."