Chapter 53 – Apprentice

That evening, over mediocre chicken marsala, Mirian told Lily and Valen about the loops. Most things that happened, at least; she left out the details about the leyline explosions and the moon falling down. She breezed over how gruesome the deaths were. No need to spread the existential dread around. Unfortunately, as she talked, other students kept interrupting her story to ask her if she really killed a bog lion, so the tale was incoherent at best. It didn’t help that the events often blurred together in her memory. For example, when she tried to describe the seventh cycle, she kept mixing it up with things that had happened during the eighth and ninth.

The first time a group of students came over and asked about the bog lion, Mirian basically told the truth. The tenth time someone came over, she talked about how she had single-handedly taken it down while Professor Cassius ran for it. By the time the twelfth person mentioned it, she was telling them there was a bog lion army marshaling in the underground and it only ate people who didn’t pass alchemistry.

By then, the dining hall was clearing out.

“This is… heavy stuff,” Lily said as Mirian finished her tale. Her gaze was unfocused, and she looked somewhat dazed.

Valen had been uncharacteristically silent. They all sat, plates empty, listening to the clatter of dishes being washed and the last few murmurs of conversation as the hall emptied out. Finally, she said, “How do we have… so little time left?”

Mirian didn’t know what to say to that.

“So what do we do?” Lily asked, a hint of hysteria creeping into her voice.

“I don’t know,” Mirian said. “I mean, I have a colossal list of things I don’t know that I need to find out, but it’s things like ‘what’s the secret project under Torrviol?’ and ‘how do I get the Baracuel army to garrison Torrviol with enough force and time to repel an Akanan army group?’ and ‘Why is there a massacre in the capitol, and how does that lead to war?’ How do I ask you to help with that?”

There was silence at the table. To Mirian’s surprise, it was Valen who seemed the most dejected by her story. She’d never seen such a downcast look on her before.

Mirian rose from the table. “Sorry,” she said. “Fate is cruel.” And didn’t she know it.

***

The next day, Torrviol was full of meetings. The professors who weren’t busy proctoring exams were meeting about the Academy, the spellward, and the project. The townsfolk were all meeting about the mayor, the magistrate, and about their general discontent of things. The guards were meeting with the magistrate, and the magistrate was sending out letters by carrier birds to try and get Captain Mandez, Adria, and the mayor apprehended on the hope that their boats had gone downriver. Meanwhile, the students were meeting to pass around rumors or just celebrate the end of the quarter, even as the last group of bedraggled students finished their exams.

She wanted to open up the wand she’d retrieved from the catacombs and see what it did, but when she went to the student crafting center, she found it closed. That was annoying. Examining the glyphs would be far safer than channeling into it with no idea what it would do. She wasn’t in a hurry to end this loop yet. She’d also need to craft wands for her certification and classes, but it seemed that was going to have to wait.

The day after that, out of habit, Mirian went to register for her classes, chalking up returning combat this quarter as a loss, only to find the office closed. There was a big sign posted reading ‘Academy Registration Delayed Until The 8th of Solen’ that she’d failed to read, and on her way back to her dorm, realized she’d passed at least five more of the notices on various posts and walls.

Lily hadn’t had much to say to her. It seemed the only thing she kept asking was if it was all really true. Valen had also made herself scarce, though Mirian had seen her sitting with a group of other sixth years on some benches outside the dorms quietly commiserating. She had a good guess as to what about, though from the fragments of the conversation she heard as she walked by, Valen was keeping the details vague. She looked up at Mirian as she walked by, and Miran could tell she’d been crying. Gods, about what? It was way more unnerving than if Valen had just done something normal, like sneak up on her in an alley, or ‘accidentally’ spill juice on her uniform.

Mirian did what she could to comfort Lily. But what she wanted was someone to reassure her. To hold her while she cried. She was the one who’d seen them all die again, who was going to remember all the pain they had right now. Yet there was no one to comfort her.

It left a bitter taste in her mouth. One part of her wanted to spend some time wallowing in pity, but another part of her told her what’s the point? It’ll all happen again. All you can do is keep going.

She was almost to her door when she saw Professor Jei coming out of her dorm building. “There you are,” she said. “You have your spellbook? Good. Come with me. We talk.”

Mirian joined alongside her. “Did Torres finally cave?”

“No, they are all in a big boring meeting, going ‘talk talk talk.’” Jei made her fingers open and close. “They are talking about what should have happened, instead of what needs to happen next. A room full of very smart people, acting very stupid. No decision yet. What is the phrase you use? Do not capture your breath.”

Mirian thought about that. “Oh, ‘don’t hold your breath.’ No, I sure wasn’t. So what’s this about?”

“If you have been in the loop for 12 months, you are old enough to be an apprentice. The registrar tried to say it did not count, so I made up data and used scary looking equations to prove it was true, and they, what did you say? Caved. All you have to do is pass a standard skill assessment. Very easy for you, I think. Then you do not have to worry about classes or exams. Instead, we do serious studying. That is what you need, right?”

Mirian swallowed, and held down a sob. She hadn’t expected the emotions to swell up in her, but she couldn’t help it. Someone believed her. Really believed her, not just said they did. “It is. Thank you.”

Jei shook her head. “It is you we must thank. What you have gone through… hm. I do not have the words for it in Friian. I have arranged proctor on short notice.”

The proctor, it turned out, was Professor Seneca. She’d levitated a large chest and table over to the practice range, and was busy setting up measuring devices. It was strange to see the range deserted. Even at odd hours, there was usually at least a few other students.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Seneca showed her the list of things she’d need to do, and Mirian clenched her jaw. “I don’t have half these spells in my spellbook yet.”

Seneca, it seemed, was already prepared for this. She brought out a case with her own scribing materials, and set it on the table next to the detection devices she’d be using to measure her spell energy. “Apprenticeship examinations are more flexible than class requirements. Demonstrations of relevant skills can replace other requirements at the discretion of the proctor with the agreement of the master arcanist.” She glanced at Jei. “I don’t think we’ll be disagreeing about any of this. Scribe the spells you know.”

Mirian shrugged, and got to work. At this point, she’d memorized several dozen spells without even meaning to. After all, she had to use spells like minor lightning and major disguise in her classes as a requirement. And since she never experienced the end of the second quarter, the first part of the classes were stuck into her mind like nails.

“Oh that’s good,” Seneca said, watching her scribe simple illusionary cartography from memory. “I would have had to look up the third sequence of glyphs.”

Both professors patiently waited as she scribed spell after spell, and then it was time to demonstrate her casting ability. Most of her spells were of only passable intensity, usually measuring at around 30 myr. Minor lightning she managed to get to as high as 38 myr. “And that’s with a spellbook,” she said. “I know I can get it higher with a wand.”

Professor Jei had started frowning as Mirian cast, and her frown didn’t let up. When Seneca raised an eyebrow at this and asked if she was reconsidering, Jei said, “No, I just know what we will work on first.”

At the end of it, Seneca went through her results. “Great spell diversity, you pass easily there. Obviously I substituted enchantment scores for some of the spells you should be able to do, and I asked Torres earlier what you would get in artifice and she just said ‘She made a spellrod in two days. Pass her,’ so that’s high praise from her. Spell intensity is obviously… borderline. A few of your spells dipped into the high 20s, which normally would be grounds for failure, but Jei’s taking you in as an artificer, and so the scores are weighed differently. So you’re approved for the apprenticeship, if just barely. Congratulations.”