Spells.

  So many spells.

  That was practically the only thing that defined my next several weeks, as finals continued to inch closer and closer. I continued to work on my strategy of tackling the hardest spells first, but practically nobody was capable of focusing on one thing to the exclusion of all others. When I got exhausted working on greater paralyze, I turned my attention to one of the multitude of fourth circle spells that I needed to master instead. Even with my spell to cut down on sleeping time, I quickly found myself working well into the hours I’d scheduled for rest, trying to get just a fraction of the way closer to done with the immense load of work.

  If it weren’t for my ethics course, things might have started to go a bad way. I’d gotten absurdly focused, to the point of skipping meals and sleep, which wasn’t in and of itself a sign of the Creep, but it wasn’t a good sign. Things took a turn for the worse when Jackson invited me to one of Effervesce’s services over the weekend.

  “I don’t have time for you and your oh-so-perfect god,” I snapped. “I’ve got actual work to do. Unlike you, Salem, and Yushin, I didn’t take a first year course. I’m taking a bunch of second year courses. And I can’t just be content to work for some god in order to get power.”

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I started regretting them. They were cruel, first and foremost, but they were also unfair. I might be taking more, but Jackson was still taking his share of classes, and wasn’t content to just sit around hoping someone would dole him out a serving of power on a silver platter. He worked constantly in service to what he believed was right, and that aligned well enough with what his god’s creed was.

  But at the same time, I didn’t owe him an apology. He was still wasting my time, and I had more important work to do. A look of hurt flashed across Jackson’s face, before he mastered himself. His emotions still firmly gripped under his will, he studied me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

  “That’s not like you,” Jackson said, though I could hear the faint notes of anger hidden beneath his tone. “I know you have no love of gods, but you’re not cruel.”

  “It was harsher than intended, but the point stands – I’m doing almost as much spellcraft as you and Salem combined. I don’t have time for frivolities.”

  “So what you’re doing is more important?” Jackson asked.

  “You spending time at your church might work for you, but it’s wasteful for me. So yes.”

  A light sparked in Jackson’s eyes – not a literal light, but a metaphorical one.

  “You are your mother’s and family’s son, then.”

  I recoiled as if I’d been struck. That was completely nonsensical. My reasons were legitimate, unlike most people, and–

  Oh. That was exactly the line of thinking that I’d always despised in the rest of my family, and just what my ethics class had been training me to recognize. In fact, if not for those introspections, I wasn’t sure I would have recognized it then and there.

  “I’m… sorry,” I said, though it practically felt like I was forcing the words out. “That was. It was. That. Was. It was cruel, unnecessary, and unfair.”

  “You should go on a date with Salem,” Jackson said. “No training. No spell discussion. Nothing that could possibly be construed as magical or magical theory.”

  I felt another spark flare in me at the suggestion of blatantly wasting my time like that, and knew that I’d gotten to a bad place. If I considered the idea of spending time with Salem to be wasted time, then I clearly wasn’t thinking right.

  “You’re… right,” I agreed. “I should.”

  And so I did. Salem and I spent a lovely evening going out for dinner, then strolling across the campus green. At one point we spent two hours just talking about the constellations we could recognize, about the differences between the starmaps of Hydref, Dreki, and Cendel, and about stories that we’d heard about each constellation as children. Given how much of my life had been spent drifting from small village to small village, I had an eclectic view of the stories, often colored by the ways that local hedge mages and elders had told the stories. I didn’t instantly master greater paralyze the following day, but I made good progress, better than I had in a while. I spent a bit more time actively engaged in my ethics class, and held several long conversations with professor Emir.

  “The mere fact that you were able to recognize it is a good sign,” Emir commented. “I didn’t, and I turned out much worse. But the most important thing is that you’ve started to see how you manifest it, individually.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You didn’t think all those journaling exercises about personal responses were for fun, did you? You’ve noted that when stressed and delving too deeply into yourself and your personal ways, you tend to self-isolate and fail to take care of yourself. That’s valuable information.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  We spoke for some time longer, and I came away with several suggestions, half of which felt borderline ridiculous, but I tried most of them anyways. I took a long bath using some of the products from Salem’s shelf of endless soaps and shampoos. I went to coffee shops, trying out the five names as professor Toadweather had suggested. I forced myself to sleep, not just the minimum amount, but for an extra hour. I read a novel that had nothing to do with magic, history, rituals, or anything important for my life.

  They also didn’t instantly help me learn my spells, but an odd thing did start to happen. As I took care of myself more, I grew more efficient. My work times might have been shorter, but I wound up getting more done than I ever had while working myself half to death. And, before I knew it…

  “Ek!” I incanted, thrusting forward two fingers in a y-shape, while spinning ether into the complex pattern.

  A small green ball of light formed in between my two extended fingers, and then launched forward. It splashed harmlessly against the straw dummy that the school’s target range had set up, and my eyes went wide.

  I’d… done it.

  Finally, after weeks of work, and mastering several fourth circle spells in the downtime, I’d done it. I’d cast a fifth circle spell.

  I threw back my head and laughed, the sound coming out somewhere between a mad cackle and hysterical relief. A part of me had expected that I wouldn’t even get it this year, or maybe never at all. It was the final barrier to graduation, after all. It might not be as large of a leap as the transition from two dimensional ether shaping to three dimensional, but it was a huge gap.

  I began to spin my ether up again, waving my hands, and speaking words of power. The spell collapsed when I was about three quarters of the way through, but I tried again. It took three more tries, but now I knew that I could do it. On the next try, a bolt of green magic erupted from between my fingertips again, and I felt myself start to dance a jig on the spot. I just couldn't help it.

  Armed with the knowledge that I was a fifth circle caster – even if my student card now indicated that I was only able to stretch to cast them, rather than having the reserves, reliability, and skill to truly be counted as a fifth circle mage – my progress exploded. Within the next week, I had nailed down the casting of planar adaptation, as well as the casting of all of the fourth circle abjuration spells. Wall of stone followed the week after that, alongside the remainder of the transmutation spells that I’d yet to learn. I’d already nailed down summon giant formica swarm and conjure eldritch tentacles, since their spells were so simple, but the third week after mastering greater paralyze, I nailed down both contact extraplanar sage and worldmerchant.

  I actually started with the latter of the two spells, writing the spell out on the ground as per instructions, and casting a familiar summoning spell into the center. After a beat longer than the spell normally took, Amos appeared, his feathered wings ruffling behind him as he looked at me.

  “Oh, hello there!” he said cheerfully. “How are you?”

  “Doing well, and yourself?” I asked.

  “Good enough! I’m a little surprised to see you summon me without someone evil around,” the small serpent said. “What did you need?”

  “Skin,” I said. Amos twitched his tail, and I could almost get the sensation that he was frowning at me.

  “Skin?”

  “Shed skin,” I clarified. “Do you know the spell ‘staff to serpent’?”

  “Never heard of it!” Amos said cheerfully. “I’m guessing it turns your magical staff into a snakey like me?”

  “Exactly,” I agreed, smiling a bit at the use of the term snakey. I really needed to summon Amos more to just chat. Maybe if I got powerful enough to become a proper realmwalker, I could visit him in Effervesce’s realm? “Which is why I need some shed skin. Preferably from the most powerful wadjetktt that you can get the shed skin from.”

  “Hmm. I mean. I can ask around to see if anyone’s going to be shedding soon, or just shed, and if so, if they’d be willing to let me have the shedding,” Amos said, a note of doubt in his voice. “It might take a while though.”

  “I’d prefer to get them sooner, rather than later, since Yushin’s spell will happen shortly after the end of the school year," I said. “That said, I understand that things take time, and I’m happy to work with you to find something as compensation.”

  “Hmm,” Amos said, tilting his cobra-like head back and forth. “I think the best thing would be your fire. It’s not a perfect match for my own sunvenom, but it’s close enough that if you cast it down your channel, it gives a massive boost. If I had some of it bottled, I could potentially bring it to Effervesce and have it infused with sunlight, and it would work even better to empower me.”

  “I’m not certain that I have a method to bottle it,” I frowned. “I know there are preservation vials that keep blood fresh, but that’s not really the same as storing my fire.”

  “How about three days worth of your dragonfire generation, if you can find a way to bottle it, and seven days of dumping all your fire into me through a standard summoning?”

  I likely could have haggled, but in the end, I thought it was a fair enough deal. Besides, I cared more about building a positive relationship with Amos and the creatures of his realm over the long term than I did about this one specific deal. So I placed my hand on the cold stones around where I channeled my ether, and we bound our wills and intents together as one, forming the deal. An instant before Amos vanished, I raised my hand.

  “I’m also looking for a sage from your realm. Summoning Effervesce directly seems like a poor plan, but do you know the name of anyone who is particularly wise, smart, or charming that would be open to being summoned to exchange information?”

  “Oh, sure!” Amos agreed happily. “They won’t be happy if you try and trap them in one of your binding spells, but if you’re just wanting to chat, there’s two people I can think of. The old saint who lives down in the woods, Hykym, will speak to most people who venture out from my village to see him. Then there’s Aqil, the oldest serpent in my village. He can look like a human, and he’s learned some of your human magic. I don’t know if it’s the same magic you use. It smells different, but… similar? Maybe. I don’t know.”

  The description of Amos living in a village brought a strange image to my mind, but I nodded my thanks, and offered to summon him an additional time, pouring all of my fire into the spell, sometime over this weekend. He accepted, though he wasn’t sure why – to his mind, he hadn’t done anything especially worthy of special recompense. I thanked him one more time, and Amos faded back into his realm.

  Patreon Here!

  Discord Here!