by Shanon Chong
“Magic that disrupts other magic?” Rachel shouted sarcastically, leaning on the bench we sat on.
“Surprisingly simple and correct,” Mr Rhimmage replied, slightly annoyed. “This magic was created after control magic became increasingly dominant within the civil war.” Writing several dates on the board, he continued. “On the morning of the first winter of year 949, the first true disruption magic, the mind blank was created.” Mr Rhimmage read out of his book. “The mind blank made control mages fear offensive and defensive mages again. Anyway, with the creation of this single incantation, an entire branch of magic was made.”
“What happened after?” a student interjected. His height was below average, and his only distinctive feature was his unkempt pearl-white hair.
“Hm? What happened? Well, Pascal, disruption magic is still rather niche in terms of usage. Disruption magic has evolved to the point where long-range work is possible with simple calibratable spells that range up to several thousand feet. With that, I’ll introduce the most famous mage to innovate upon that style, the Intermediary Rogue.” He paused for dramatic emphasis. “His name is Jahni Opasc. By trade, he’s an assassin. However, he’s spent enough time working with mages to know how to stop one.”
“How does he do it?” I asked, placing my input into the conversation.
“How? His knives are infused with magic, pure magic. The energy is enough to throw off someone’s focus slightly.” Mr Rhimmage drew the familiar image of a knife on the board. “Well, there isn’t much to actually explain. However, if you’ve got any questions, I’m happy to answer them.”
“What is the knife you drew?” Rachel piped up, asking the question I had hesitated to ask.
“This?” Mr Rhimmage pointed at the knife. “The throwing knives we use in the military. Any more questions?” Pausing, he smiled. “It’s getting late… I’ll finish off defensive magic, and we’ll have a chat about what we’ll cover during the year.”
“I’ve got a question!” Shannon shouted as she leapt to her feet. Her eyes practically declared her intention…pure curiosity. “What about that final person you haven’t covered? The Mage of the Eternum Seal.”
“Ah, so you’re interested in the mysterious ones…” Mr Rhimmage stood from his chair, pushing it to the wall. “The mage you just named is quite possibly one of the strongest people on the planet.”
“Really now?” Rachel asked sarcastically, fuelling the fire for no apparent reason. “I mean, have you got any solid proof to verify that statement?” She grinned devilishly.
“Well, I doubt you know about this, but there’s a shrine out the north exit, within the forest.” Mr Rhimmage said. “It’s a little old, but it provides accurate strength ratings in numerical form.” Mr Rhimmage stood, frowning. “It’s easier if I explain what I know.”
“Is this Mage of the Eternum Seal really that elusive?” Shannon asked, still on her feet.
“Well, his magic is something like necromancy, so that already makes information about him rather scarce.”
I listened intently. Forbidden magic remained just a guideline for most mages to ignore. However, I knew information on those mages didn’t exist within the bounds of the Capital.
“Anyway, the Mage Association gives him enough missions to make any other mages drop from exhaustion,” Mr Rhimmage professed. “If you want strength as a point of comparison, three Enforcers would barely be enough to contain him.”
“Did that actually happen?” I asked, curious as to the source of the information.
“Yeah, well, I mean, yes and no… Complications regarding the restrictions on the mage’s travel have occurred, and the Enforcers have stepped in.”
“You were talking about a shrine…” Oliver prompted from his chair.
“Shrine! Yes, the shrine. Well, to give a baseline, a generic tier-ten mage, generally, is about a four hundred on the shrine’s scale. When the Mage of the Eternum Seal tested himself, he scored about eight hundred.”
“Is he literally double the strength of a normal tier-ten mage?” Rachel asked.
“The number isn’t exactly linear, but it’s close enough to say that, yes.” Mr Rhimmage replied. “Before anyone asks what style he would classify under, I’ll give you a definitive answer: he doesn’t fit within the four general categories.”
“Why?” Oliver inquired almost immediately after Mr Rhimmage finished his sentence.
“I knew you’d ask that. His magic uses all four in strange combinations to create a nearly perfect magic,” Mr Rhimmage explained. “Well, I have barely anything on what his magic actually does.”
“So, it’s a secret?” I proposed, realising the conversation had gotten out of hand.
“Essentially.” He halted his speech, before realising his tangent and refocusing himself. “Anyway, I’ll brush over defensive magic. Defensive magic is about denying the opponent’s attacks without manipulation, which generally uses more energy. The principal of this school is a defence magic specialist. Defensive magic’s purpose also works to lock down an enemy physically.” He paused before concluding with, “Any questions?”
“What do these people have to do with our studies, anyway?” Rachel asked. “I mean, other than their relation to magic.”
“Other than the fact that Vin wanted examples, the school recently added some criteria based on famous mages to your curriculum,” Mr Rhimmage said. “Well, I’ll talk about this year’s content, then. Throughout the year, you’ll cover all the different types of magic and study the mages related to them.” He stopped. “I think the Seraph’s Mage will give you a magic demonstration later in the year.” He looked around at the weary faces in the classroom. “Are you tired?”
“Yes!” Noel shouted impatiently while lying face down on the table.
“The school has a dining hall…but that’s a little boring. I’ll treat you to dinner at the Bunker’s Entrance.” Mr Rhimmage slid the teacher’s chair into the lectern’s open area. He stood at the door, waving for us to follow.
Every student rushed toward Mr Rhimmage, who counted us as we walked past. He kept a neatly written list of our names, and he ticked each one off. Finally signing the sheet of paper, he lifted his chin and faced us. “Let’s go.”
Maneuvering through the halls seemed simple enough until we’d hit the same right turn for the fifth time. Mr Rhimmage grimaced and looked at his watch: the time was a quarter past six. The hands on the ornamental platinum face shifted as the seconds passed, and its ticking rang loudly as Mr Rhimmage waited.
The watch chimed with a sharp ring as the hallway straightened to reveal the exit. As we left, Mr Rhimmage ensured we still had all sixteen students.
The three moons dotted the sky; their dull grey surfaces remaining lit by the stars within the galaxy. The Arcanan nightscape didn’t reflect the initial liveliness of the commuter-filled day. The storefronts, previously filled with products, now seemed deserted for the night; knights in plated armour roamed the streets, maintaining the peace with their presence.
Passing the protectors of the city, Mr Rhimmage straightened his spine and saluted. Smiling acceptingly, the guards didn’t give him a second glance as our posse of students walked past.
“We’re here…” he muttered, pointing at the embarrassingly small bar-like establishment. “It’s surprisingly large,” he said as if predicting our thoughts. The small sign spelled the name of the establishment: “Bunker’s Entrance.” Mr Rhimmage entered casually, reaching for his pockets and patting them down frantically. Following Mr Rhimmage’s lead, we opened the door and filed into the foyer of the restaurant.
“Bill, ye forgot ye wallet, didn’t ye?” the owner of the establishment said. Stares of scorn arose from the upper-class students. The repeated use of colloquialisms led presumptuous students to make the instinctual judgement on their minds. Mr Rhimmage held his arm horizontally, holding up a single finger, signaling them not to speak.
“Jayden, would it be possible to pay tonight�
��s expenses at a later date?” Mr Rhimmage asked before stepping forward and leaning on the counter.
“Pay me back tomorrow. I wanted to drop by the school and say hello to the chefs in the kitchens,” Jayden said smoothly. The lack of colloquialisms made him sound slightly more refined. “You can have room fifteen. When you’re done with your order, write the number fifteen in the order number box.”
“I’ll have to look for some extra cash…” Mr Rhimmage muttered, looking at a sheet of paper with the words “new prices” printed neatly in a cursive font.
“Just treat me to dinner; I’ll cover the room’s costs… You pay for the food.” Jayden sighed as though dissatisfied with his close friend’s lack of organisation.
Mr Rhimmage made his way down the spiral staircase that led to the lower floor.
“You his students?” Jayden asked us before we could follow. Then he berated himself: “Of course you are… Bill ain’t a bad guy. Treat him well, will ye?”
“Jayden, could you send the students down!” Mr Rhimmage shouted from the bottom of the stairwell.
“Sure!” Jayden replied swiftly. “Careful on the stairs.” He paused for a second, giving me time to admire the room.
The entrance to the restaurant was intricately designed. The wine rack was behind a tinted glass pane, the counter was covered in the knickknacks of his trade, and a genuine cooling room peeked at us from behind Jayden’s stocky body. Famous musicians’ instruments were stored in tightly locked crystalline cabinets. In front of the antique instruments, bolted to the wall, was a single well-made lounge. Its leathery material seemed to be from a magical beast’s hide.
“You guys better get moving. Bill ain’t patient,” Jayden mentioned kindly as he noticed me admiring his restaurant.
“Thanks,” I politely replied with a smile.
I took my time on the stairs, descending step by step, admiring the scratchy and rough graffiti that covered the polished stone walls.
“Take a seat!” Mr Rhimmage guided us into the room. “This used to serve as a bunker for militants in the Essence Wars,” he said excitedly; apparently, he enjoyed the history of the building. “Jayden, several friends, and I bought this place together.”
The interior of Room Fifteen had new runic lighting hanging from the curved roof. The walls were preserved by sheets of glass, and a plank of wood embedded into the wall served as a bench. Cushions of varying sizes lined the curved bench, which made its way around the mahogany table.
“Anyway, I’ll talk more about the Andreas Arcanas down here,” Mr Rhimmage said before Shannon or I could say anything.
“Andreas Arcanas, is that the name of the Mage of the Eternum Seal?” Shannon exclaimed.
“Andreas Arcanas is the Mage of the Eternum Seal,” Mr Rhimmage confirmed.
Chapter 8: Who Is My Father?
“Andreas…Arcanas?” I murmured under my breath.
“Order as much food as you want…I’ll continue our class tomorrow,” he said, seemingly flustered. “If you need me, I’ll be having a chat with Theodore.”
“Why did we come here, then?” Vin asked. “We could have just eaten at the dining hall.”
“I can guarantee that you’ll be back tomorrow for dinner if you eat something. Anyway, Jayden explained how to order food. You guys settle that.” Mr Rhimmage said confidently, and then he escorted me out of Bunker Fifteen with his arm around me.
“Is this about my father?” I asked as he guided me up the stairs to the foyer of the restaurant.
“He wanted me to brief you on everything,” Mr Rhimmage informed me. “He’s occupied with the Old God.”
“Rachel already explained the story of the Old God to me,” I replied honestly, hoping to save some time. “Why do you need to tell me all this?”
“Your father taught me for the three years I attended the academy. Honestly, I want to repay him for his teaching.”
“So, you’re here telling me about him?”
“Ah, no. These are orders from up top.” Mr Rhimmage chuckled quietly. “Though it was a genuine accident for me to let his name slip out.” He turned, his eyes bagging slightly as he smiled. “I was going to tell you in the staffroom after class.”
“It’s fine. What does he want from me, and why have his lacking paternal instincts suddenly kicked in now?”
“Harsh, but he did leave...” Mr Rhimmage considered carefully before looking me in the eye. “It’s not my place to say. However, your dad has a lot more weight on his shoulders than you might comprehend.” He smiled at the ceiling as he spoke.
“I wonder if you understand.”
“Oh, believe me, I do,” Mr Rhimmage replied, still staring upward. “My father died when I was three; my mother left me when I turned twelve. Then, over several years, I realised my life could be better than theirs. I got accepted into the academy a year or two after, where I spent some of the best years of my life.” He kept a melancholic smile plastered on his sharply defined face.
“I guess my dad’s alive, at least,” I murmured, annoyed but accepting Mr Rhimmage’s story with a pang of slight guilt touching my heart. I realised I wasn’t the only unfortunate child in the world.
“At least you seem to get it.” Mr Rhimmage grinned. “Anyway, I’ve got good friends to take care of me. Your father supported me in my times of loss, so I’ll take care of you whilst you’re in the Capital.”
“Thanks…I guess,” I replied reluctantly. He was repaying the debt to my father. I wasn’t even part of the equation.
“Don’t worry about it.” He forced a smile as he looked at Jayden. “Hey! Jayden!” he barked.
“What? I’m cooking for your students! They’re ordering a feast!” Jayden cried frantically.
“If any of them are looking for me, tell them I’m having a stroll with Theodore.”
“You better treat me to something good,” Jayden replied, slightly annoyed. “You’re making me work overtime.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll treat you to a meal at the Exile’s Inn. I’ll be back soon!” he called to Jayden, who had rushed to the kitchen. Opening the door, he held it for me.
Walking into the freezing Arcanan night, I felt the uniform shielding me from the frost.
“Where are we going?” I inquired, stepping on the cobbled path and following Mr Rhimmage’s footsteps as we moved westward along the northern section of the Capital. “We’re going to enter the residential district if we keep going,” I said, remembering the rough layout of the city.
“I’m showing you a side of your father you’ve never seen,” Mr Rhimmage declared, “He showed me this before he left to deal with the country’s problems.”
“Just you?”
“I was the best student in the class; I reckon Jayden was a close second, and maybe Piper, if you count a love-hate relationship,” Mr Rhimmage explained, giving me the dynamic of their graduating year’s class in a single sentence. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Piper knew, though.”
“Just so I’m on track, you mean Piper Merases, right? The alchemist?”
“Yeah. Where’d you meet her?” Mr Rhimmage asked with surprise as we followed the road.
“She taught in my town’s school for magic,” I replied simply, giving no details.
“After she denied the teaching associate role, she chose to teach in a town?” he murmured under his breath. “Well, I guess our academy’s northern branch doesn’t have a great reputation.”
“What was your relationship with her, anyway?” I asked out of curiosity.
“Hm? Well, I dated her for a year before realising she was far too exotic for my tastes,” Mr Rhimmage answered easily. “Anyway, I doubt you want to know the details,” he joked casually. Pivoting on his heel, he turned and faced a simple townhouse in the centre of the residential district, “Your father’s home.” He motioned to the simple brick house as he unlatched the small iron fence, opening it for us to enter.
“I think that’s obvious…” I pointed at the na
meplate mounted next to the door. “It says Arcanas right next to the front door.”
“He is rather self-centred…” Mr Rhimmage muttered, disappointed. “I forgot that he had the nameplate there…”
“What are we doing here, anyway?’
“Getting something for you.” Mr Rhimmage paused. “Explore the house; I think your father would’ve wanted you to see it.”
The front door swung open to reveal a large open living room that stretched several yards before encountering a wall. Light began to flicker on as the lamps lit themselves. A homely orange light filled the room, revealing several doors that had been obscured by the darkness.
“You know your way around here?” I asked, looking from door to door as I saw Mr Rhimmage head for the stairs.
“Yeah, well, he gave me instructions. Detailed instructions,” Mr Rhimmage replied. “I’ll be upstairs. Call if you need anything.” Mr Rhimmage went up the compact stairs against the wall. Neat labels informed me of each room’s purpose and contents. Neither the bedroom not the library was on the ground floor. However, the place I wished to visit was located conveniently to the right of the front door…the office.
“Where did he hide it…?” I muttered as I opened the door and began searching for his old schoolbook. I knew the only subjects I wouldn’t struggle in would probably be basic runes and seals. However, I had a feeling that Mr Rhimmage wouldn’t give me the easy way out.
My eyes trailed around the room, focusing on each separate detail and item, I wanted something that could normalise the idea of my father and who he was as a person. The main desk sat to the back of the room. Covered in dust and books, the desk wasn’t tidy, nor did it exactly feel out of character for my father to be disorganised.