Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
FINLAY
Finlay stands in the back of the ongoing class, his arms folded and patience wearing thin.
Master Asara Strithmore asked Finlay to be a guest lecturer today once she concludes her current lesson.
They are diving into the foundations of magic in her class, discussing its different components and functions.
Why the hell she’s asked Finlay to take up the rear and explain the process of strengthening one’s lakt?, he hasn’t the slightest clue.
She could have very well finished that portion of her lecture on her own, or asked any other gods-damn person at this academy.
Truly… anyone else.
“The theories regarding where our magic comes from are endless,” she explains.
“Boundless, even. We believe in what is called the Cycle, a mystical force which recycles and returns all energy—all magic. Yet who or what created it? Whom does it answer to? The gods? Something greater?” She clasps her hands behind her back as she paces at the front of the class, her twin silver braids shifting as she walks.
“Though it’s hard to prove the conceptual origins of magic itself, there is still much we have since learned and now understand about it.
Tell me, who can answer the two broadest categories we use to define wielders? ”
A girl with flowing black hair shoots her hand into the air, and Finlay tips his chin with a hint of pride at recognizing her as a newly Selected first year of the Skyborne aggregate. “I can,” she chirps.
“Go on, then.”
“To make things simple, the Tani has created two distinct magical categories where each different magic type may fall: Conjurers and Elementals.”
“Very good,” Master Strithmore encourages. She directs her attention away from the girl and to the rest of the class. “And what are Conjurers and Elementals?”
Another hand lifts into the air, and Finlay follows it to find Gray Nightenjoy as the owner.
He sits in the back of the classroom, alone at a table meant for three.
Finlay can’t help but wonder if the lowborn girl he normally spends his time with isn’t assigned to this class with him.
He also finds it odd that he would choose to sit alone.
Frankly, even Finlay is aware of how well-regarded the man is.
Certainly plenty of students in this room would love to have him at their tables.
Yet he chose to isolate his position in the class.
Interesting.
Gray Nightenjoy is sharp and cunning—alarmingly so.
He parades an easy-going, gentle disposition beautifully, as though he isn’t always watching and assessing.
Finlay supposes Gray has his father, Sterling Nightenjoy, to thank for being so exceptional at it, but all it takes is a concerted moment of watching his shrewd gaze and carefully selected words to recognize he is not someone to be taken lightly.
Truthfully, Finlay is still mildly bitter he didn’t choose Skyborne, instead picking Kiran’s aggregate, Castaria.
He would have made Gray Nightenjoy the first ever nontitled member of his renowned aggregate.
It was not something Finlay took lightly either when bidding to Select him.
Still, Gray chose Kiran. Because of course he did.
A flash of memories plays through Finlay’s mind. He drops his eyes and sighs, the memories giving way to the thought plaguing him incessantly as of late.
How is Finlay supposed to do wrong by Draven once more, even if at the council of Bathara’s behest?
Just before arriving to this class, he had a meeting with Master Cahlmon regarding the progress in his private search for Lyra.
It was a very brief meeting. Very. Finlay has found nothing.
No leads. No person with any sort of knowledge about Casimir and Lyra.
So, luckily, he had nothing to offer Master Cahlmon, which has bought him the unpurchasable: more time.
Yet time does not run on forever. He must make a decision soon, forced to draw his line somewhere.
Forced to decide if he will draw one at all.
Finlay shakes the traveling thoughts from his head, focusing on the present. Master Strithmore, it seems, called on Gray, who is now mid-answer to her question.
“Conjurers are those who create their magic’s ability while Elementals are those who pull their magic directly from the resources around them.
We know Elemental’s lakt? matches the frequency of that which it wields, fueling their magic and allowing them to access and create the resources as if they were their own, while less is known about where Conjurers actually pull their magic from. ”
“Can you provide an example?” she asks.
“Of course,” Gray answers. “My own.” He turns his palm up to the sky and a bright flash of golden light swells in his palm before a sprawling sunset overtakes the room, casting the walls and windows in a warm mix of red, gold, and pink.
It only lasts a moment before Gray curls his fingers back into his palm, erasing the illusion.
Master Strithmore does not remove her eyes from him the entire time. “Exceptional gift,” she muses. “It’s a shame you refuse to use it on others, from what the other Masters heading your combat classes tell me.”
Finlay whips his eyes back to Gray, stunned at that admission. Silently, he chastises Kiran for allowing Gray to get away with such a thing. If Nightenjoy was a member of his aggregate, that would never be acceptable. Ever.
Gray Nightenjoy shrugs. “I don’t like to use my magic,” he informs Master Strithmore as if that is no strange thing to say at Bathara Academy at all.
“In fact, I’ve always found it rather ironic that I was gifted the magic of illusions.
I believe in honor, integrity, and truth, yet I was gifted a magic of deceit and lies—sometimes false truths.
” He smiles a near poignant smile before chuckling.
“The twists of fate are not lost on me.”
Master Strithmore hums her consideration.
“We do not always get to choose what we are given, though we always get to choose what we do with it. Sometimes inaction is as deplorable as unwanted action itself.” Then, without any further words for him, she turns her gaze away from him and back onto the class, pacing once more.
“Who can tell me how magic is then divided from those two categories, and how that affects the creation of Jurafen teams?”
The rest of her class continues as they discuss the assigned divisions of offensive magic types and defensive magic types.
Most people with Elemental gifts are considered offensive—fire, water, wind, ice.
Namely because they are able to wield magical attacks causing mass destruction, should they so choose.
Then there are defensive magic types. Annoyingly, Rhea gets brought up as an example, with her nullifying magic being used as the golden standard for defensive magic.
They then go on to explain how Bathara uses their evaluations to form balanced teams, taking into account wielders’ magics who fall more on one end of the spectrum over the other.
Finlay has to fight against his dozing mind more than a few times, given how familiar he is with all this information.
Though his attention is soon claimed when Master Strithmore halts her pacing, squaring her shoulders to her class. “And Abdites? What can you tell me of them?”
“That they’re mad lunatics,” one girl grumbles near the front of the room, resulting in a bout of snickering laughs.
“Are they?” Master Strithmore questions.
The girl who answered looks stunned at the Master’s follow-up question. “Well…yeah.”
“And is that all they are?”
The girl’s voice dims, a tiny quiver rattling her words now. “I mean, not before they corrupt their magic, no.”
“But it is after?”
“Well…” The girl swallows. “In our other classes, we are learning the nature of their corruption. Just what, precisely, the properties are that beckon them into such lunacy. Yet all the Masters say the same thing: once they are corrupted, they might as well be treated the same as dangerous magical beasts. They are lost, vile, and outside the possibility of saving.”
“So you believe the corruption in their veins robs them of their human claim? Strip them of the protections all humankind should receive?”
The girl blinks furiously at Master Strithmore, seeming to work out if the question is a trick or not. “Once corrupted, there is nothing human about them.”
“And what of the circumstances that may have caused their corruption?”
“What about it?”
“Is that not a factor worth considering?”
“Why would it be? Everything we’re taught says once they’ve become an Abdite, they are beyond saving. Does it really matter what drove them there? They still did it. And Jurafen are still expected to neutralize or detain them, regardless of circumstance.”
Master Strithmore folds her hands behind her back, allowing the words to settle over the classroom, giving the students time to process and digest their own thoughts on the conversation. It’s her trademark while teaching.
Finlay takes the moment to consider, knowing to the letter the exact answers his father would give. The answers his father would want him to give.
“Thank you for your participation in the conversation, Zyria,” she eventually says.
Master Strithmore claps her hands together.
“Now, I would like to invite Captain Fjolla to the front of the classroom. I’ve asked him to join us today to give his personal techniques and recommendations for strengthening lakt?.
Please give him your undivided attention. ”