Arcane Dropout

by Edmund Hughes

  “Do you finding yourself getting lucky often, Lee?” asked Harper.

  “More often than most.”

  Lee took two slow steps forward, refusing to be the first one to turn away. It was a lesson he’d learned time and time again when dealing with dangerous specters. Looking away gave them too much room, too much freedom. If Harper wanted to scrutinize him, she would get the same intensity in return.

  “Was that what happened during your entrance exam?” asked Harper. “Dumb luck? Or perhaps some performance anxiety?”

  Lee smiled, showing her his teeth. “I think the snowball smudged your makeup, Instructor. You might want to clean yourself up.”

  Harper didn’t react for what felt like a solid minute, though it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. The side of her mouth quirked up slightly. The room was silent, and Lee could hear her breathing in as she prepared to speak her next words.

  “I’ll hold onto this for now, if you don’t mind,” said Harper.

  “I do mind.” Lee stepped forward and grabbed her wrist, putting himself directly within Harper’s personal space. He felt her breasts through her shirt as they brushed against his bare chest for a few tantalizing, glorious seconds.

  And then, everything was upside down, and Lee was in pain. The afterimage of bright green light left in the center of his vision was enough to tell him that Harper had cast a spell, probably some type of alteration shield, to fling him back.

  “Never put your hands on an instructor, Initiate Amaranth,” said Harper.

  She readjusted her robes and crouched down by Lee’s crumpled form. He managed to preserve a small amount of dignity by rising to a sitting position. Harper leaned in close, almost as though she was about to kiss him.

  “You should familiarize yourself with the rules of this school,” said Harper. “I’m going to be keeping my eye on you until you do.”

  “Feel free,” said Lee. “I’m an open book, Instructor.”

  He was whispering, for some reason. She was still right there, far closer than she should have been, given the fact that Lee had just tried to forcibly pry a dagger from her hand. She was close enough that if he wanted to, he could simply reach out and…

  “Oh!” said Toma in a surprised voice. “Whoops! I, uh, didn’t realize.”

  Harper sighed as she stood up, turning and crossing her arms over her breasts. “Initiate Fujino. Dinner will begin shortly. You should get dressed. As should you, Initiate Amaranth.”

  She made a point of glancing down at Lee’s kris dagger, which she still held in her hands, as she made her way toward the door. Lee made eye contact with her for one more intense, emotionally charged instant before she slipped into the hallway. Toma waited a few seconds before furrowing his brow and glancing at him.

  “What was that about?” he asked.

  “I’ll let you know when I figure it out myself,” said Lee.

  Losing his kris dagger was irritating, though not a major setback. It wouldn’t stop him from exploring the campus even if it would now be under Instructor Harper’s increased scrutiny. He’d carried that weapon with him for years, however, and there was a sentimental quality to it that had him already plotting how he might manage to sneak into her chambers, wherever they were, and steal it back.

  Any silver weapon wielded by a mystic could do damage against ghosts and break through most supernatural defenses. Lee couldn’t help but scowl as he considered what might happen if he encountered a disagreeable specter before he managed to retrieve his dagger or find something to use in its place. The ghost that’d helped him during the admission test had seemed nice enough, but her presence implied that the school didn’t have anything close to proper defenses against those sorts of entities.

  Lee let the matter drop as he pulled on one of his initiate robes. It was a much tighter fit than he’d been expecting, and it felt more like a costume than what he would have normally considered to be a robe. He pulled the hood up and glanced in the mirror on the back of the closet door, whistling appreciatively.

  “Damn, dude,” said Toma. “That’s a good look on you.”

  Toma hadn’t been quite so lucky. His robe fit him alright from the waist up, but his small stature meant that the hanging skirt dragged ever so slightly along the floor. He leaned over to lift it up and made an annoyed sound.

  “They must have like a resident tailor or something, right?” he asked.

  “You can always hope.”

  A bell chimed to sound the hour, ringing through the dorm and the common room in a fashion that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. A few of the other male initiates began making their way toward the dormitory’s exit.

  “I think that’s our cue to report in for dinner,” said Lee.

  The two of them made their way outside, following along with the other initiates without joining any of the other clumps that had formed. Lee took the chance to take another close look at the campus, scanning over the nearby buildings and physical features.

  There was a statue of an attractive woman wielding a staff and wearing a robe near what appeared to be the center of Primhaven’s grounds. Her expression was distant and aloof in much the same way as all statues, but strangely, her eyes were the exception. Lee tried not to notice how they almost seemed to follow him and the other initiates as they passed by.

  “That’s Primhaven’s founder,” said Toma, answering his unasked question. “Shay Morrigan. Kind of a babe, right?”

  “Maybe if you’re into the stone-faced, silent type.”

  Lee was also taken aback by how green and healthy the campus was. The grass was a thick carpet in every direction within the walls, even though the normal wear and tear of routine footsteps should have led to paths forming through it. There were even small animals: tiny squirrels, a few suspiciously small deer, and the occasional field mouse.

  “How is this place, uh... how it is?” asked Lee.

  He wasn’t expecting Toma to know the answer and was surprised when the other boy raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Nature magic, man,” said Toma. “It’s all Lead Instructor Mattis’s doing, from what little I’ve heard. She’s a druid, one of the most powerful on this side of the planet. The Order of Chaldea’s never taken nature magic all that seriously, given how niche it is, not really having standard offensive or defensive spells. Supposedly that’s why she ended up here.”

  “Huh,” said Lee. “How do you know all that?”

  “My dad... works for them,” said Toma.

  From Toma’s tone, Lee could tell that it was a sensitive subject, but another question came to mind before he could stop himself.

  “You said you didn’t know about the admissions test before,” said Lee. “He didn’t think to make that clear to you ahead of time? Given the stakes?”

  “No,” said Toma. He pursed his lips for a moment, exhaling through his nose. “I come from a family of mages, Lee. They’ve always had high expectations for me. It’s kind of messed up, but whatever. I’ve flunked out of a few schools cause of how much I suck at casting. I thought this would be the same deal where my dad just waves his status around and I’m in, but apparently not. It really is the end of the line.”

  Lee didn’t know what to say. He could relate to Toma, if more in feeling than in circumstance. He’d never had much of a family to disappoint other than Zoe, and she’d been more concerned about the two of them scraping by than anything else.

  “Sometimes the end of the line is the start of a new beginning,” he said.

  “Does that even mean anything?” asked Toma.

  “If you want it to, sure.”

  Toma chuckled. “You’re cracked, Lee.”

  “Watch your step. You don’t want to trip over your robe.”

  CHAPTER 7

  The dining hall was inside of the Ewix Center, the building directly to the north of the men’s dormitories. Lee and Toma were two of the last initiates to arrive and were greeted by the sound of excited conversati
on and the smell of cooking.

  The massive chamber was subdivided into five sections. Four groupings of circular tables filled each of the room’s corners, with a singular large table at the room’s center that Lee assumed was reserved for the instructors. Toma took him by the arm as they entered, stopping him before he could make his way over to where many of the other initiates had already settled in to their respective seating placements.

  “You might want to, uh, go your own way for a bit,” said Toma. “I kind of have, like, a bit of a reputation.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Lee.

  Toma took a step back, separating himself from Lee, but he spoke up to answer his question.

  “I’m a loser, Lee,” he said. “A lot of the other initiates know me already, either from our previous school or from my family. I’m not saying you can’t sit with me, just that, you know…”

  “I think I’ll take the risk,” said Lee. “Come on, there’s an empty table over here.”

  Toma hesitated before shrugging and falling into step with him. They both sat down, and Lee took a couple of seconds to survey the room.

  Kristoff and a few of the other initiates, Eliza included, had settled into a table a few rows down from theirs. Lee did his best not to ogle Eliza as he noticed that the robes that the female initiates wore were perfectly tailored to their proportions and just as tight-fitting as his had been. Even though cloth covered Eliza’s chest completely, the contours of what lay underneath were as clear as day.

  Lee looked for just long enough to draw Eliza’s attention, which apparently wasn’t a bad thing. She smiled at him and looked almost like she was considering excusing herself from her current table and making her way over to his. Kristoff seemed to take notice, and after looking back and forth between Eliza and Lee for a couple of seconds, he slid his chair back and headed toward them.

  “Lee and Toma,” said Kristoff. He turned one of the chairs around to sit in it with the back in front, tapping his fingers on the table and sneering at them. “I must say, it was quite entertaining watching the two of you struggle with the admissions test. Have you ever considered becoming comedians before?”

  Kristoff was flanked by two other boys, both of them tall and broad enough to effectively serve the role of intimidation, assuming they’d chosen anyone other than Lee to attempt to bully. Servants had already begun delivering trays of food to each table, and Lee ignored Kristoff as he accepted his, savoring the aroma of roasted chicken, garlic sautéed peas, and mashed potatoes.

  “Fuck off, Kristoff,” said Toma. “Hey, that sort of rhymes! Maybe it’s a sign.”

  “Hey, don’t be snarky,” said Kristoff. “I’m here to do you both a favor. It’s rather obvious at this point that there’s no chance in hell that either of you will make it to graduation. I thought I’d be magnanimous and let you know that, if you wanted, I could ask my dad to intervene on your behalf. You could be my servants, maybe even avoid the Cropping. We could start practicing right now, even. Why don’t you both go fetch me and my friends some drinks?”

  Lee took his fork, carefully scooped a glob of mashed potatoes onto the end, and balanced it against the lip of his tray as though it were a lever.

  “Hey Kristoff,” said Lee. “Check this out.”

  He slammed his fist down on the end of the fork, sending the mush hurtling directly into one of Kristoff’s eyes. He’d always considered the most effective forms of provocation to be the most childish ones, and this was apparently no exception. Kristoff let out a roar, knocking his chair over as he stood to his feet.

  In contrast, Lee stood up slowly, pulling up the sleeves of his robe and drawing the moment out. He wanted a fight for reasons that went beyond defending his and Toma’s honor. The instructors hadn’t arrived yet, and a fight would give him an excuse to leave the dining hall and explore the campus, regardless of who won.

  Or at least, Lee had assumed that the instructors hadn’t arrived yet. Something soft and fuzzy landed on his head, and before he could pull it off, it scrambled around to his shoulder and took his earlobe into its mouth. Tiny teeth glided across his skin, threatening to do more than just that.

  “Initiate Gusman, Initiate Amaranth,” called Mattis. “Is there a problem here?”

  Lee glanced to the side, watching as the Lead Instructor slowly made her way over. He looked back toward Kristoff, noticing that the other teenager also had a large squirrel on his shoulder, ready and willing to take a massive bite of ear cartilage, if need be.

  “We were just having a friendly chat,” said Kristoff, in a somewhat fearful voice.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” said Lee. “Just a chat.”

  Mattis waved a hand, and the squirrels jumped down, circling her feet briefly before heading off to places unknown.

  “You should begin eating your dinner,” said Mattis. “The Head Wizard will be arriving to address the room momentarily, and he gets irritable when people chew while he’s talking.”

  Kristoff glared at Lee for a few more seconds before turning and stomping off back to his table. Lee noticed Eliza holding a hand over her mouth in the background, amused by either his response to Kristoff’s attempt at bullying or Mattis’s response to their aborted fight.

  Another servant pushed a cart up to Lee and Toma’s table, this one laden with gravy and biscuits. Lee accepted one of the latter and let the servant pour a generous amount of gravy onto his mashed potatoes before signaling him to stop. A new question presented itself, partially spawned by Kristoff’s earlier comment.

  Who were the servants at Primhaven, anyway? They were clearly aware of the supernatural and also clearly lacking in the necessary talents to be proper mages themselves. Was this an alternative to the Cropping, a way for initiates to be used even after they’d failed to develop their full talents?

  Maybe that was what had happened to Zoe. The idea of glancing up at a servant clearing his plate or serving dessert and seeing his sister’s face staring back at him stirred a conflict of emotions in his chest. It would make things simple, but also vastly more complicated. Of course, if Zoe was a servant and still had her memories, she would have found a way to reach out to him, right?

  Lee used his food as a distraction from his thoughts. The chicken was piping hot and perfectly cooked, tender but with a crispy outer skin. The mashed potatoes and gravy were like bites of salty, decadent heaven. The biscuits were alright, flaky but lacking in overall taste.

  He was scraping up the last of his potatoes with his fork when the chamber slowly grew silent. The rest of Primhaven’s students had apparently made their way in while he’d been eating. While the initiates wore blue and grey robes, the disciples across the room wore green and yellow. The adepts wore purple and orange, while the mages were dressed in red and white.

  Most of Primhaven’s faculty wore robes of black and gold, and Lee immediately spotted Harper and Lead Instructor Mattis sitting at the central table among their peers. As much as he hated to admit it, Harper looked incredible in her robe, which clung tightly to her body and showcased a larger bosom than he’d noticed initially. The gold accent was almost the same color as her braided hair, and Lee couldn’t help but smile when he noticed that she’d actually taken his advice and touched up her makeup.

  His attention was pulled away from his less than favorite instructor as he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye that didn’t make sense. One of the faculty members who wasn’t wearing the standard black and gold was dressed in a simple white robe with short sleeves. She had dyed hot-pink hair, mesmerizing green eyes, a fantastic body, and, most importantly, Lee was pretty sure she was a succubus.

  The same aspect of his mystic power that let him see ghosts occasionally let him see glimpses of the true forms of other supernatural entities. In this case, it was as though the woman in the white robe occasionally flickered, her skin turning a deep shade of red, small horns appearing amidst her hair, and a miniature set of black wings popping into
existence between her shoulders.

  It wasn’t a surefire thing, and it only happened in situations when the entity in question was either weakened or actively using their power. In this instance, Lee had no idea which was the case and even less of an idea of how a monster that fed off lust essence had ended up in Primhaven to begin with.

  It caught him off guard and left him wondering which scenario was worse: whether the rest of the faculty was aware that they had a succubus in their midst, or whether they were completely ignorant of it.

  Finally, the dining hall reached a state of complete silence. A blond man, perhaps in his late forties or early fifties, had stood up from the central table. He was handsome, with tanned skin, full, carefully cut hair, and a certain swagger about him that felt a tad overplayed.

  “Welcome, initiates, disciples, adepts, and mages, to the 117th year of Primhaven’s academic history,” called the man. “I am Johnny Odarin, the Head Wizard of this university. You can call me John, or Johnny, or uh, I guess Head Wizard Odarin…”

  The man winced and seemed to hesitate.

  “Sorry, I do have a, uh, speech prepared.” Odarin reached into his robe and pulled out a handful of cue cards, several of which he dropped as he swore under his breath. “So as I was saying, I am the Head Wizard, and yes, I have incredible magical power at my fingertips, but really, I’m just like all of you. I’m not thrilled about being here. Are any of us? I was at the top of my game in my career, one of the most respected in my magical field.”

  Odarin furrowed his brow and scratched behind one of his ears. He looked down at the cue cards and hesitated, looking away from it.

  “The Order of Chaldea has strict requirements that all mages who’ve been in battle must uphold,” he continued. “Any rumors you might have heard about me being out of control, or a ‘loose cannon,’ it’s all just bunk. Anyway, believe me when I say my history has nothing to do with my current role. Though, I would still likely be on the frontline if it wasn’t for the decision of some useless, paper-pushing desk jockey who’s never faced down a pack of lycanthropes, or a blood mage. It’s patently ridiculous, but I guess—”