Fallen Mage Regressor

“Ah, young Mal. We were just waiting for you.”

Mal nodded at Puck. “I’m sorry I took so long. I had some last-minute practice to do.”

The class had been moved to a room where targets had been set up along the wall, and the stone bricks shimmered with some sort of purple barrier—something to absorb any stray shots and prevent damage. Everybody in Spellcasting 101 was on one side of the room, whereas the targets were on the other.

“Ah, perfectly understandable,” Puck said. ”I’m glad to see that your prior ways have changed.”

Mal jerked back. No matter how many times Puck made casual references to Mal’s past, it never ceased to scare him half to death. Mal looked around at his circle mates and the other members of Spellcasting 101. Rolam had raised an eyebrow, while Philo looked uninterested. Lusia stared at the targets in the back, eyes empty and devoid of thought.

“Professor, are you really just going to let him off with a warning?” Hypode said. “This is the practice, the last major exam of the year before finals, and he had the audacity to show up late.”

“Young Hypode, there’s no need for that. A minute or two of lateness isn’t a cause for concern. He had a reason, and it was an understandable one. Let’s move on.”

Hypode grunted, crossed his arms, then glanced toward the window.

“As you can see, I’ve arranged a number of targets along the wall,” Puck said. “They were crafted by one of the magical workshops in town, run by a former student of ours. They should be able to absorb and measure the level of power put into the strike. The targets will light up with color depending on the force. White is the lowest color, and indicates barely any force at all. Black is as high up as this is rated to go, roughly equivalent to the power of a full-grown mage. Not at all anything that I would expect from you. The ranking system is determined by the hue of the color. The closer it is to black, the better you’ve done.”

He then pulled out a paint can.

Hypode squinted at the paint can, but didn’t say anything. More than a few other students had similarly confused expressions.

Puck dipped a paintbrush into the paint can, then dabbed it against a piece of paper that Mal hadn’t noticed. He stuck the piece of paper to the side with some tar.

The paint was a light gray.

“This is the minimum color I would expect from all of you at this point,” he said. “If you get a little bit below that, it won’t be a huge deal—it’ll just mean that we’ll need to work with you more one-on-one.” A strange tone entered his voice. “I truly do hope that isn’t necessary, as I’m not a very good teacher, if I’m completely honest.”

The entire class erupted into laughter, Mal among them.

The headmaster of Exodi Academy, a terrible teacher? Hilarious. Everybody knew that he was just being humble. Strangely, Philo didn’t laugh, but only sighed and shook his head.

Puck laughed, his voice strained at the edge.

“Right then, let’s go ahead and get started.” He looked over the crowd, then stopped at random. “Ah, Philo. Why not you? Our star student.”

“Professor, Philo was below average in midterms for this class.”

“No, no, that was... Rolam.”

Ah, humor, to break some of the tension that had been building up. Obviously, he knew everyone’s grades by heart. Once again, Mal could only bow in amazement at the genius of Puck.

Philo opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. “Yes, Philo will aim for the target.”

He strode out in front, then pointed his hand toward one of the targets. An Arcane Sphere ripped to life within a few seconds, then blasted out and hit it with a bang.

It lit up a pale gray, more or less matching the color that had been painted on the wall.

“And I do believe that’s exactly what we were looking for.” Puck clapped. “Well done, Philo.”

The rest of the class clapped behind him. Behind him, Mal picked up some conversation.

“That really wasn’t half bad,” a girl said. “Nothing amazing, but not bad at all.”

“Especially in light of where he started,” a boy next to her said. ”I remember when we were running through the exercises and him and his circle mates seemed to have a lot of trouble.”

“Alright, Emerald, how about you?”

Emerald, Hypode’s younger brother, stumbled forward, pushed out from behind by his brother. Hypode glared at him, then jerked his head in a clear “go” motion.

Emerald turned pale white. His knees shook as he brought his hand to bear against the target. An Arcane Sphere stuttered to life, taking a noticeable two or three seconds longer than Philo. It launched out, impacted against the target, which turned the slightest pale gray, well below the minimum requirement.

”Ah.” Puck stared at the target. ”Perhaps give it another try, Young Emerald?”

Emerald gulped, then his hand filled up with an Arcane Sphere. It launched out, and there was a significant difference—the target turned a darker gray, just within the range of the gray on the wall if one was generous.

”I’ll count that as a win,” Puck said.

A few other students went through the exam, most of them meeting the bare minimum or passing it by a small margin.

”Next, Rolam,” Puck said.

Rolam strode out, shoulders back, and a cool look in his eyes.

”Begin whenever you’re ready.”

Rolam narrowed his eyes, did a strange pose, then swung his arms in rotating motions.

Oh, he’s using spell sword motions to build up the mana in his body and shape it in the air. Clever.

An Arcane Sphere flared to life, and Rolam swung it like he was throwing a ball. It hissed through the air with a high-pitched whistling noise, then impacted the target with a bang. The wall shook for a half second and smoke rolled off where he’d landed the Arcane Sphere.

It was a dark gray, darker than anybody else in the exam up to this point. If Mal had to guess, the minimum was something like thirty percent black. He was easily in the forty to fifty percent range.

Claps echoed out from the students, a little bit firmer and louder than what had been given to the others.

”My word, you’re already stronger than—” Puck shut his mouth. ”I meant to say, excellent work. Very impressive. You may return to where you were standing.”

Puck flashed a grin at Philo. The grin tightened around the edges when he saw Mal, but he didn’t say anything beyond that.

”Hypode.” Puck said. ”You next.”

Hypode walked up. He barely even glanced at the target before he summoned an Arcane Sphere in a split second. It shot toward the target, and the bang this time was loud enough to make the barrier flash a bright purple along the stone walls. A little bit of dust fell from the roof and landed in Mal’s hair.

Dark. The darkest the target had gotten.

So this is the difference between an A rank and the rest of us, Mal thought.

Rapid applause.

”Well done, Hypode!” Puck joined in with the students. ”You honor your family lineage!”

”Thank you, Headmaster,” Hypode inclined his head. ”It’s all thanks to your teachings.”

Hypode sounded genuinely sincere. Truly, Puck was an amazing teacher to have earned the respect of someone as strange and pathetic as Hypode.

”Next up, our latest addition to the class—Lusia.”

The talking ceased.

The room became so quiet one could have heard a mouse squeak.

Lusia strode toward the front, steps slow and unhurried.

”Now, you likely won’t meet the minimum,” Puck said. ”You only very recently obtained your magic, and so you’re a bit behind the other students. I’ve already made arrangements for further teaching.”

”I see.”

”Uh.” Puck waited for her to say anything, then nodded slowly. ”Do you have any other questions?”

”What effect am I required to use? Clarify.”

”Oh, it’s up to you. I believe we’ve only covered push and pull this year, plus a handful of weaker, more niche ones.,” he said. ”Everyone’s been using push. I suppose if you happen to learn another spell effect you’d like to try, that would be fine, although I don’t think anything like that is in the curriculum.”

”I learned it elsewhere.”

”Then go ahead. If you’re good enough to be successful with something besides the basics, then you should be fine.”

Lusia nodded, then faced back in the direction of one of the targets. Now what could she be thinking? Mal thought. She’s not going to change the spell pattern to a bolt. She was asking about effects. So—

The edge of Mal’s lips twitched.

Oh, this is going to be funny.

The Arcane Sphere flashed into existence in under a second, almost as fast as Hypode. It erupted forth, and it almost looked like multiple blades of wind cut through the air adjacent to the Arcane Sphere. The sound of shredding filled the air as invisible or thin, visible lines sliced across the target in one quick burst. Each line was several inches deep into the ceramic-like material of the targets, thin cracks running across the entire object.

It was dark, nearly indistinguishable from Hypode’s shade of color.

Puck’s jaw dropped. Hypode himself stuttered out some sort of response.

”That—that’s impossible! She only started a few months ago. How—?”

”Is Philo truly so incompetent?” Philo looked at his clawed hand. ”Philo is beginning to think that he’s losing his mind.”

”No, some people just get all the honor,” Rolam said. ”Let’s just be glad she’s on our side.”

”Talent. The word you’re looking for is talent, Rolam.”

Behind them, students had broken out into rapid whispers.

”What even was that effect?”

”Did she make it up on her own?”

”And she’s just a commoner, too—not even a well-off one, she’s a maid!”

Lusia paid no mind to these comments and stepped back to Mal’s side.

”Well done,” Mal said.

”Thank you, Master.”

Puck clapped his hands.

”All right, as astonishing as that was, we need to keep it moving.” Puck’s eyes stopped on Mal. ”Young Mal, what of you?”

Mal stepped out, reached into his satchel and pulled out one small elder root leaf ball. He slid it under his sleeve, his hands positioned in such a way that nobody would be able to see it.

Thank you, Hemp, for that quick bit of information, he thought.

He held up his hand like he was going to cast an Arcane Sphere, but brought it closer to his chest and circled his hands around each other.

”What is he doing?” someone whispered from the back.

”I think I’ve heard of this. It’s a northern approach for spellcasting.”

”Yeah, but why is he using it?” the other person asked, deadpan.

”I mean, he was the highest scorer for the second event.”

”Yeah, but that was just a fluke.”

As he shifted his hands around, Mal dropped the ball out of his sleeve. Because he was wearing his Firegloves, he was able to light up his hands. He did this, adding the smallest flicker of flame, again, just out of sight of the watching audience.

The ball erupted into glowing light, and the Airgrass kicked in along the edges, causing it to float in midair from the wind.

A few shrieks.

”Too bright!”

”How—”

”My eyes!”

The air whistled loud enough to drown out all other noise from the sheer amount of movement. Mal shifted some of the Airgrass just to the side—

And then the ball launched from his hand and hit the target with a bang and a pop.

It rolled along the target, then hit the stone wall. The purple barrier lit up and held it in place, before the False Arcane Sphere lit up with one last pulse of light, then burnt away into ashes, thin enough that Mal was confident they wouldn’t be seen from the back.

Puck stared at the target. ”That was the single brightest Arcane Sphere I’ve ever seen. How did you do that?”

”Oh, must have been a fluke.”

Puck stared, looked at Mal, tilted his head, then glanced back at the target. His eyes widened and he reached up to rub them.

“I think that I’ve been up too late,” he said.

Mal tracked his gaze and looked at the target. White. Almost complete, almost completely. Just the slightest tinge of gray to indicate that anything had happened at all.

Oh. So it wasn’t testing impact strength. It was only testing probably something like the amount of mana in the Arcane Sphere. And of course, since there was basically no mana save for the aligned mana—which I bet it doesn’t count—that meant that I received an unusually low score.

Mal was happy that he’d benched to figure that out, then he realized the implications.

Oh. That’s not good. If they use the same method for finals, I’m screwed.

“I think it’s safe to say that this particular target must be damaged,” Puck crossed his arms. “We’ll go ahead and count this as a pass, young Mal. For the finals, we’ll be sure to make one find one that’s well calibrated.”

Mal nodded very slowly. “Right. Thank you, headmaster.”

“Of course. Now, let’s continue...”

Mal had to figure out a way to store unaligned mana inside of a plant or an object, and he had to do it before finals.

He was outside of the spell casting and spell theory department, walking on his own. It was just after the test, and everybody was streaming out.

He reached up and brushed the sweat that had already formed on his head. It was the Herb Moon, the eighth month of the year, late into summer. Even up here on the mountain, it had started to become unbearably hot. He adjusted his robes and found himself wondering if there was some way to apply a cooling spell, or maybe weave Waterrose into his tunic.

Well, in a month or two, it would start to cool off. Next month would be the start of autumn, and the autumn equinox ritual.

He double-checked his personal notes with his witchcraft journal. Autumn was about honoring the produce and bounty of the season. Mal distantly remembered, back in his hometown, a harvest festival being held on the autumn equinox. He doubted that the people in Exodae celebrated in the same way, though there would likely be some sort of festival. He didn’t plan on attending, he had a ritual to attend to. Apparently, he was just going to...

He was just going to reap some of his plants.

That was it.

That was the ritual. Wild. He was also going to say some funny magic words, and apparently it would do things.

Mal stopped in the middle of the walkway and sighed. He’d already had ample proof that there was clearly something to the art of witchcraft. He could detect things in a small radius around him with pinpoint accuracy, thanks to one of these rituals. He had to take it seriously, even if he was still a little bit skeptical about the whole thing.

“Master.”

Mal jerked.

He turned around and saw that Lusia had come up behind him. She was just on the edge of where his Total Awareness ended.

Was it instinctual? he thought. Or does she somehow know? I don’t believe I ever told her about that ability.

“There’s something that I’d like for us to discuss,” she said.

“Yes?”

“What was that spell you used to save my life?”

Mal’s heart dropped inside of his chest.

Ah, crap.