The Skyhome Academy

Simon and Rose sat down on adjacent chairs in the lecture hall for Elements I. The sloped room seated two hundred, and was filling with cadets. Most were teens, but there were a few adult serfs who had won the favor of their noble later in life. Everyone was now dressed in their sky blue field uniforms.

At the front of the hall along the left-hand side, four human-shaped target dummies were set up. There was a large metal plate protecting the wall behind them. That should be interesting, Simon thought. He drew his notebook and fountain pen from his backpack and placed them on his desk.

He considered himself fortunate to have five of his six classes together with Rose. She was surprisingly personable for a noble, and gorgeous. Though after his awkward attempt to complement her at the previous night’s banquet, he did not have the nerve to flirt again.

“Looks like we’ll get an elemental demonstration,” Rose told Simon eagerly.

“That’ll be new to me. I don’t have any experience with magic besides alchemy.”

“But you moved that coin with telekinetics on your first try. I’ll bet that’s your focus.” Most spellcasters, due to natural talent or interest, developed a special aptitude for one form of magic—this was their focus.

“I hope so. If I’m a kinetic, Mage Isabel’s class will be easier for me.” Simon tried to think of something else to say. “So, Emma’s not taking elements either?”

“No room on her schedule. She’s taking Healing III now. All her classes are second year, except arcana and telekinetics—you need to pass combat exams to skip ahead in those.”

“I can’t imagine testing ahead in so many different subjects.”

“I know what you mean. But she’s amazingly smart, and quick with all sorts of chores—pretty much the best handmaiden a girl could ask for.” Rose’s aristocratic attitude toward her servant was the one thing about her that troubled Simon.

He then noticed Prince Robert and Princess Mei taking their seats together a few rows ahead. They each had a pair of bodyguards with them. Rose made a frustrated noise. “Why are those two practically attached at the hip?” she whispered. “Prince Robert could do so much better than someone that arrogant.”

Simon hoped that he was not showing any sign of jealousy at her comment. For his part, he considered both royals thoroughly unpleasant—but he could tell that Rose would not want to hear that opinion.

A door at the front of the lecture hall swung open, and smoke billowed into the room. Numerous cadets cried out in alarm. A man then strode confidently through the doorway. He was dressed in colorful garb, and looked fairly young. He had brown skin, a shaved head, and a black goatee. Simon recognized him from the banquet as one of the academy’s professors.

“Fear not!” The instructor’s deep voice was carried by the room’s crystals. “Where there’s smoke, there’s not always fire.” He then used telekinetics to disperse the cloud, and the office behind him did prove empty of flames. “And this is but one example of how the magical elements differ from those found in nature.

“I’m Professor Gilbert Akintola, and today I shall introduce you to the world of the elemental. In order to pass this course, each of you will need to cast one form of elemental magic at the basic level by the semester’s end. Use of a wand will be permitted for first year cadets.

“Now then…I’m sure most of you had arcana class earlier today, so you’re familiar with this.” The instructor held out his hand, and fired a bolt of white energy at one of the target dummies. The attack went through the dummy, causing a plume of white feathers to fly out the back. The energy struck the metal plate with a thud. “The arcane bolt—it’s the most mana efficient form of attack, and quite deadly at full strength. But unlike elemental magic, it lacks versatility. Or any style!”

Akintola’s attack on the next dummy was a directed arc of electricity, accompanied by a loud crack of thunder. The dummy was knocked to the ground, but showed only slight charring. This spell and those that followed drew excited reactions from many of the cadets. “Magical lightning—it can be cast as a lethal or non-lethal spell. The latter will knock any unshielded target out cold. And the energy will linger in a highly conductive medium.”

“I’m going for lightning,” Rose whispered excitedly to Simon.

The professor’s next attack consisted of several sharp blue projectiles. They were a blur as they shot through the third dummy and clanked against the metal plate, denting it. “Magical ice is as dense as lead, and has excellent armor-piercing qualities. There are many more uses beyond the basic attack.” His next spell created a long blue chain, which flew across the room before wrapping around the dummy and knocking it to the floor. “This substance can take many shapes, but since it’s made of mana it doesn’t last long.” Simon noticed that the chain was gradually evaporating, rather than melting as real ice would.

“Finally, we have fire magic,” Akintola continued. “I’ve already shown you one use.” He held up one hand, and a small amount of smoke drifted up from it. “Smoke is an excellent way to obscure your position on the battlefield. Fire magic can also raise temperatures.” He looked to the last dummy, and without warning it began to smolder. But it failed to ignite. “In short bursts, high temperatures can be used to render an unshielded target unconscious without burning them seriously. Though lightning is much safer for taking someone alive.

“But I’ve saved the most exciting spell for last…” A sphere of chaotic orange flames appeared above Akintola’s open hand. It then shot suddenly toward the last dummy and loudly blew it to bits. Feathers were spread far and wide. “I love a fireball—high explosive mayhem at it’s finest. Weaker versions of the spell can be made to linger as a flare.

“Of course, the danger of fire magic is that it spawns natural fires as well.” And in fact, the last dummy was burning. The professor shot forth a great gout of water from his hand, and it extinguished the flames. “That spell was ice and fire together—but you won’t be learning combination magic this semester.” The puddle of magical water around the dummy gradually disappeared.

Simon had been most impressed by fire magic. And given that his family business was alchemy, the ability to heat liquids with his mind would be a bonus.

“That concludes my demonstration.” Akintola took a bow, and there was widespread clapping. “Now I’m afraid we’ll have to get down to the business of actually learning,” he said with a chuckle. He walked over to the blackboard and floated a piece of chalk with his telekinetics. “You’ll see that I’ve already written the novice and basic equations for⁠—”

“Hold on!” one cadet in the front row shouted, rising from his seat. “You only showed three of the elements. What about acids and bases?!”

Akintola dropped the chalk and turned, fixing a withering stare on the boy who had interrupted him. “And just who do you think you are…?”

“Lord Jame Margas.”

“Cadet Margas, I strongly recommend you choose one of the elements I demonstrated as your primary for the semester. Acids and bases…they’re cruel spells, far more so than the others. They linger longer than ice, and do terrible things to their victims.”

“Good! I’m going to be fighting traitors when I graduate, aren’t I? They deserve no mercy.”

“If that’s your attitude, you might as well learn necromancy,” the professor muttered. However, his personal crystal still carried his words throughout the lecture hall. There were gasps from a few cadets.

“How dare you imply that I’d become a defiler!” There were low noises of agreement at this—it was a horrible accusation to level at anyone. Even the traitors did not use such magic.

“I meant to imply nothing of the sort,” Akintola insisted.

“This is pathetic! I’ve already been studying acid magic, and I get a professor who’s against me from the start. You dance out here in that ridiculous getup like the clown prince of commoners, and I’ll bet it’s to hide your incompetence. Can you even cast acids at all?” There were renewed gasps, and Simon suppressed his anger at Lord Jame’s choice of words—“commoners” was a slur referring to the peasant classes.

The professor strode forward until he stood just before the rude cadet. He then lashed out one hand toward the dummy that was still standing. A sphere of clear liquid shot across the room and splashed the target, which melted. Wisps of smoke rose from the dummy’s remains.

“Does that please our high and mighty lord?” the instructor asked mockingly. Lord Jame stared at him. “Maybe you’ve forgotten the academy rules, Cadet Margas. But while you study here you’re required to respect the authority of all professors—even those who weren’t so fortunate as to be born nobles. I will not be referred to as a commoner! …⁠Report to the intendent’s office immediately.” Lord Jame proceeded toward the nearest exit without a word. A soldier seated beside him followed—the cadet had to be from a high noble family, if he was allowed a bodyguard.

Rose raised her hand. “Professor? …⁠The floor’s melting.” Simon then noticed that the acid which had destroyed the dummy was now smoldering beneath it.

“Gods damn it all!” Akintola cried. He hurried over to the mess and began summoning murky globs of base to neutralize the acid.

Simon observed Lord Jame and his soldier exiting the room. “What kind of lunatic wants to melt people?” he whispered to Rose.

“The kind who’s going to be my liege someday.”

“…⁠Oh, wow. My condolences.” They shared a quiet laugh as they waited for class to resume.