Page 20 of An Arcane Education
Before tonight, I’ve been nothing more than an infinitesimal blip in existence. But maybe now, with my newly discovered power, I can manage to make something more of myself. I could carve out a path in this world rather than float along with the current like I have been.
Hell, maybe the Chancellor’s speech got to me more than I thought.
I wake up early on Monday to intermittent reverberations of footsteps in the hallway outside my door, and even though the sun is barely cresting the horizon, washing my room in warm shades of pink and orange, that nervous first-day-of-school excitement bubbles in my chest and makes it impossible to fall back asleep. Checking the time on the old manual alarm clock the school provided, I see that it’s only forty-five minutes before my alarm is set to go off, anyway.
Max is out of the room already, and I’m grateful she seems to be a morning person to the extreme. Her bed is made, her dark comforter neatly tucked under the edges of the mattress. The only indication of change from yesterday is the four articles of clothing left on the bed, which make me wonder if she actually does care, at least to some degree, what people think of her. She’d probably never admit it, but it’s good to know that maybe there’s a heart in there after all.
I shower in the communal bathroom down the hall, which is filled with the sound of hair dryers running and the other women chatting excitedly with their friends as they do their makeup in the mirrors. Eavesdropping while I shower, I hear gossip about other students and professors, tales of people’s summer trips to expensive destinations I could only dream of, and nervous discussions about what classes will be like.
I’m in and out quickly, electing to do my hair and makeup in the quiet of my empty bedroom instead. I should stay in the bathroom and attempt to make friendlyconversation with some of the other girls, but I’m already anxious about my first day of classes and need to conserve my social battery, at least for today.
I had spent the better part of last night panicking and digging through my closet, separating my clothes into wearable and not wearable, cursing myself for not reading the dress code more thoroughly. Finally, I had decided on my outfit for my first day: a green dress with off-shoulder sleeves and a cinched waist. Beneath the waist, it gently flows outward, and the hem falls to mid-calf. I pair it with strappy black sandals and decide to leave my wavy auburn hair down for the day, knowing that once labs start, I’ll have it in a ponytail much more frequently.
Outside, campus seems to glow with the morning sunlight, the gray stone buildings sharp against the brilliant sky. I join the traffic of students walking along the pathways, many headed toward the same destination as me.
Today, the dining hall is brimming with people and the buffet is in full swing. I join the line of students, grab a plate, and fill it with scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes, knowing I’ll need the energy today. Most importantly, I fill my travel mug with coffee, grateful I remembered to shove it in my backpack at the last second this morning.
Despite the full room, I don’t see any of the three people I know, so I find a seat at the edge of a table and eat quickly. When I go to leave, I refill my coffee and set off toward my first class of the day.
Introduction to Magic and Magical Theory starts at 8am. The classroom is on the second floor of the castle, making it a short walk upstairs from my morning breakfastin the dining hall. The main hallways in the castle are wide, with large windows letting in the natural daylight, but the hallways that branch off into the depths of the building are narrow and dark, lit by sconces similar to the ones in my dorm building. The air is noticeably cooler in them as well, the echo of footsteps bouncing off the stone walls, and I find myself grateful for the constant stream of other students. I can’t imagine how eerie it would feel to be alone in these corridors.
I finally find the correct classroom, and it’s a large room with tables that seat two people each instead of individual desks. I take a seat in the first row, near the windows on the far side of the room that overlook the front lawn of the castle. From here, I can just make out the coastline of the island and the massive stretch of dark water beyond in the distance.
Students filter in, most of them a few years younger than me and looking just as nervous. However, it’s difficult not to notice how put-together they all are, how much their appearances already make me feel like an imposter. Sure, I’m wearing a dress today, but it pales in comparison to what the rest of the class is wearing. The men are mostly in nondescript slacks and button-downs, but many of the women are put-together in a way that elicits both jealousy and awe. Tailored, perfectly-fitted, brand-name clothing, delicate matching accessories, and flawless hair and makeup. Beauty and wealth are clearly not in short supply on this campus, and here I am, the poor scholarship student. But there’s no use in comparing myself to those who undoubtedly come from generational wealth, even if my insecurities surface because of it.
When the seats begin to fill up, I busy myself by taking out my notebook and a pen then scanning the various charts and illustrations on the wall of magical symbols and elemental magic variations. A man who looks to be in his thirties sits in the seat beside me, and we exchange a friendly smile but nothing more.
The professor arrives two minutes before eight, and the class falls into silence when she takes her place at the front of the classroom. She’s a pretty, middle-aged woman with soft, rounded features, medium-length brown hair, and a gentle demeanor.
“Hi, everyone. I’m Professor Jenny Showen, and welcome to Introduction to Magic and Magical Theory. I’m a Generalist with a doctoral degree in history, both magical and not, and I’ve been teaching here for over twenty years now. Each of your professors will have different preferences on how to be addressed, but please just call me Professor Showen or Ms. Showen. Doctor just feels too formal for me.”
A low hum of laughter sounds from a handful of students before she continues. “We’ll spend today going over the schedule and topics for this semester, and we’ll spend a little time going over some basic information and context for future classes.”
She takes attendance, calling out our names one by one and having us raise a hand when called. Once all the students have been accounted for, she gestures to one of the women seated at a table in the other front corner of the room.
“This is Clarissa Alder, and she’ll be my TA for this course, so you’re welcome to direct any questions towardher throughout the semester. Clarissa, would you like to introduce yourself?”
“Sure,” she chirps, then stands and turns to face the class. She’s tall and thin, wearing fitted gray slacks, black heels, and a sleeveless white blouse with a high neckline. Her features are sharp and angular, and though she’s about the same age as me, she radiates a stern confidence that allows her to easily command the attention of a room. “As Professor Showen said, I’m Clarissa and I’ll be the TA for this course. I’m a graduate student pursuing my master’s degree in historical linguistics with a magical specialization in classical spellwork, and my Affinity is Classicism. I’m also a member of Meridian House, so if you’re interested in being considered as a member, please feel free to speak to me after classes or see me at the extracurriculars fair on Wednesday.”
She flashes a practiced smile and takes her seat again. I scribble down the words “Meridian House” in my notebook as a reminder to ask someone what that is later.
Ms. Showen distributes the syllabi next. Each syllabus is a stack of ten pages, detailing rules, grading information, and the schedule. “Before we go through the syllabus, I’d like to determine what we’re working with in this class,” she states. “I know that most of you are freshmen, so if you don’t have an answer yet, don’t worry. Please raise your hand if you are currently unsure of your Affinity.” Seven hands go up as everyone turns their heads to survey the room. “Okay, great! It’ll be fun to determine where your skills lie,” she says with a kind smile. “Now, please raise your hand if you’re a Materialist.”
She goes through each of the Affinities, with multiplestudents raising their hands for each. I make a mental note of the five other Naturalists in the room.
We go through the syllabus next, and it’s a combination of typical syllabus information alongside concepts that baffle me. The course grade is determined by fifty percent test scores, twenty percent assignments, and thirty percent in-class demonstration. Attendance is mandatory, only excused by a note from the infirmary or an administrator, which is apparently the standard for all courses here at Arcadia.
Next, we go through an overview of the curriculum for the course, which includes things like “the foundations of the magical world,” “meditation and mental exercises,” “basic elemental manipulation,” and “beginner spellwork.” It’s exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure. Nobody else in the room seems particularly fazed by the fact that we’ll be doing spells in this class, and it makes me wonder just how uncommon it is for someone to discover their magic by accident.
“It’s important to remember that everyone functions at different levels,” Professor Showen continues, “and higher power comes with practice. Don’t feel discouraged if your power level isn’t what you’d hoped. Many students start here with the expectation that they’ll be performing large-scale spells after the first semester, but that’s simply not realistic. The larger the scale of magic is, the more power it requires.”
“For example,” she says, “If you’re an Illusionist, you may already have the ability to enhance or change something that’s already present—like temporarily changing your hair color through illusion—but it’s exceedingly moredifficult to create an illusion of an entirely new person out of thin air. In the same way, a Materialist may be able to use telepathy to move a book across the room, but it would be impossible for one person to move a house. It took thirty of the strongest magicians alive working together to create the ward that hides this island.”
She continues to provide examples, then with twenty minutes left in class, Professor Showen states, “Magic can be profoundly impactful, but it can also be incredibly dangerous. This course, and your program as a whole, is about helping you discover how to safely and responsibly wield your powers. This class will be the foundation upon which you build all future knowledge, so it’s in your best interest to get as much from it as you can. It will not be easy, but it will be worth it.”
With that, she dismisses us, and I’m certain I’ll need to ask for some supplemental reading suggestions to build my foundational knowledge.
My next class begins an hour later, so I meander across campus to the smaller building where the course is held, shuffling through the throngs of students.
