Chapter 4 #3
I wanted to ask more questions, but I couldn’t think of an approach that wouldn’t make Byron suspicious.
As soon as I asked, “Hypothetically, how would one eject a hitchhiking soul, if one were so inclined?” he would know to be on his guard.
Could he hurt me from within my mind? I didn’t know, but he could definitely be really fucking annoying.
“My challenge as an educator is to inspire my students to aspire to great things while at the same time respecting the limits of their abilities, and that is a difficult rope to walk. Too often, passion is a Trojan horse for irresponsible daring. Whoever brings it through the gates not only hurts themselves, but everyone around them. Selfish wizards are the most dangerous wizards of all, so I urge you to be anything but.”
“Maybe this is a dumb question, but how do you know where your limits are?”
“We incorporate that into our freshman curriculum. Not every spell can go horribly wrong if done incorrectly, so we find your edge by pushing until you fall off. The drop is a small one, so no one gets hurt in these cases. You can walk away with a feeling of what level of complexity is a step too far.”
“Like a squat rack with safety bars?”
Dean Pernel seemed vaguely offended by that comparison.
“Yes, something like that. No school of magic is safe to practice. Illusion magic and restorative magic can be deadly. Healing magic, despite its application, can deliver extreme levels of harm. Now, have you given any thought to which school would be your specialization?”
“Between illusion magic and healing magic?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know that I want to pursue either, to be honest.”
“Many students feel underwhelmed with what comes naturally to them, and it truly is a situation of the grass always being greener on the other side of the fence. No matter what a student is gifted in, they can’t help but fixate on what they want but can't have. I promise you that your appreciation for your talents will grow as you study.”
“Are you saying I have to choose between those two?” I asked.
The Dean leaned back in her desk chair. “We won’t pull your scholarship for taking a different path, no, but you must consider the reality of your mana pool. Immediate comfort with your school of choice will make that far more manageable.”
“But I could pick another school, if I wanted.”
“Yes, but with your level of innate talent, specializations outside of those two schools would be a tragic waste of potential.”
Oh, I knew this speech. That gosh darn potential again.
I hated how having potential gave people a free pass to remark on how disappointing I was.
Whatever I did, no matter how perfectly acceptable it might have been, I could have done better.
The person I was always had to compete with this imaginary version of me that only parents and teachers could see.
He beat me in every contest, every time.
The more they pushed me to become him, the more I hated him. I would do anything to never become that shitbag persona that always moved the goalposts on me so that, no matter what, I came up short.
“Quiet your mind, David. Anger here will not serve you. Placate, redirect. Make her feel like she has made progress, and change the direction of the conversation.”
“Those are very good points,” I said to Dean Pernel. “That’s definitely something I need to think more about.”
“Good. I’m sure you’ll make an informed decision eventually.”
“I heard there have been incursions on campus before. What kind of danger should I expect when I’m off campus?”
“Special people are preyed upon everyday. Child actors. Rich grandparents. Political families. If you have something to offer, someone or something out there will try to exploit it or take it from you entirely. Most wizards live peaceful lives, but that’s because they keep their eyes open and guards up.
They make it hard for knives to find their necks. ”
“No offense,” I said, “but how do I tell who I can and cannot trust? I don’t know anything about you or this place, for example.”
“Phrase your questions more precisely, please.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” I asked.
“Maybe you can’t.”
“That wasn’t the reassurance I was looking for.”
The Dean shrugged. “Mad wizards are a cliche for a reason. Decades of paranoia can erode the mind, and paranoia is a cunning beast. After a while, seeing which precautions are reasonable and which are deluded can be impossible.”
I waited for her to continue that thought and explain how to keep such a thing from happening, but that wisdom never came.
“History is a critical part of magic studies,” she continued. “Understanding where we’ve come from can make it easier to understand where we might go next. What we’re about to cover is in a book called A Brief History of Magic, and I will lend you a copy to read in between our sessions.”
“I read it.”
“Which parts?”
“All of it. Someone at the library recommended it, so I read it.”
“Last night?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. Saves me the trouble. Read this next.” She opened a drawer and removed a book, giving it to me.
The Power of a Word.
“This is a primer on how language interplays with magic. Please start with the chapters on pacts, promises, oaths, vows, bonds, and contracts. Since you worked ahead, we can end tonight early. See you tomorrow, David.”