The Fusionist Book 2 -- Chapter 21

Chapter 21

“Welcome new students!” the diminutive woman shouted from the front of the large room, directing her words toward the back where Larek and the other new first-year transfers were sitting. “I know you may have a lot of questions, but it can wait toward the end of class. For those of you who had been here all year long, you’re going to be able to go early because of this!” There was some slight cheering from the crowd, though it wasn’t overly enthusiastic.

Larek looked around the classroom, which was entirely unlike what he expected due to his familiarity with those at Crystalview. When he thought of a classroom, he pictured a relatively small room with a few dozen desks inside where students could sit and learn from the Professors.  There was the “Theater” that was much larger and could hold an entire year of students, of course, but this current classroom put the Theater back in the other Academy to shame.

Hundreds of low-backed wooden benches were set up on a slight incline, allowing those in back to see over the heads of those ahead of them similar to the Theater, but it was so much bigger than anything he’d seen before other than the arena stands outside. This one classroom was big enough to hold up to 10,000 people, though only about a third of the seats were filled; what that told him was that over 3,000 students were in the room along with a single Professor down at the front.

That was 3,000 students that were in their first-year; not the entirety of the student body. In comparison, there were only around 1,500 students in total at Crystalview, so seeing so many kids in one place for the same purpose was more than a little overwhelming for Larek and even the rest of the first-year transfers. Strangely, they looked toward him for support once they arrived at Classroom 100, so he did his best to lead them to an empty spot in the back where they could all congregate together.

For once, his height and the reactions from the people of the Kingdom hadn’t been the main focus as they entered. Unfortunately for most of the other students, other than his friends who weren’t from the Kingdom, it appeared as though the Nobles in the huge group were looking down on the “common folk” who were accompanying him. Their expressions said, “I’m better than you,” which was something he was uncomfortably used to seeing when it was directed toward him, but in this case it was sent toward the other kids with him.

That didn’t mean he didn’t have students looking at him that way, but they were in the minority. He couldn’t be sure, but it was as if the common folk that were already there at the Academy looked down on him; the Nobles looked down on the common folk; and Larek… if he was being honest with himself, he looked down on everyone from the Kingdom. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel a little bit responsible for the first-years that had accompanied him, especially as their attitude toward him had changed from when he had first arrived at Crystalview. Some of them were even nice and could potentially be a friend in the future, but for now they were simply children that needed his help, which he was inclined to give them since it was technically his fault that they were here in the first place.

Introductory Magical Theorem went over a lot of the same things as what Dean Wilburt covered back at Crystalview, but the biggest difference was that the class was taught by a Professor instead of the Dean. Sadly, Professor Burcha reminded Larek of Fusionist Annika because they were both Drome, her 2-foot-tall figure eliciting thoughts of Annika’s fate during the Scission attack on the Academy. Even at a distance away from the small woman, he could tell that they looked very little alike other than some general features, but it still affected him by just seeing someone who was remotely similar and how he had nearly achieved his goal of learning more from her.

His minor depression when he listened to Professor Burcha largely faded by the end of class, thankfully, as it was obvious that she was nothing like the Fusionist other than a vague similarity of appearance. When she dismissed most of the class early and had Larek and the others descend toward the front of the room so that they could interact with her, Professor Burcha started listing off information that they would need to research on their own time in order to get caught up.

“…also in the library, I want you all to pick up a copy of Thralrenson’s Treatise on Magical Applications within the next few weeks, as that should cover most of what you’ve missed in this class while you were traveling,” she concluded after listing quite a few different topics that needed to be covered. Most of it Larek had heard before in one place or another, though he was sure that some of it would be worthwhile to research. “If you have any other questions, please see me after any other class and I’ll do my best to get you all up to date on your learning. Now, before you head off to your next class, does anyone have any questions? Yes?” She pointed at one of the kids up front of the group.

“How many students are there here at Copperleaf?”

The Professor thought about it for a moment. “With you here, I believe the count is up to 16,439,” she responded, to the gasps of most of the other transfer students. “That’s nothing, though, because the Martial trainees over at Fort Pinevalley are over 20,000!” she continued with a strange bit of excitement.

Over 16,000 Mages here? And 20,000 Martials across the way? How is there a problem getting more Mages like Dean Wilburt mentioned to me?

If the 2 other Academies were anything like Copperleaf, then that meant that around 10,000 additional Mages graduated every year. He thought that should be more than enough to help replace those from the SIC that unfortunately perished during the defense of various towns and cities, because if the attrition was that bad, then it was worse than he was told.

There were a few other minor questions that were asked, but nothing that caught Larek’s attention. Before long, they were dismissed to their next classes and Larek took out his map from his pocket to ensure he knew where he was going.

“I think you’re going to have to run to it every day,” Verne mentioned at his side, seeing Larek with the map. “That’s a bit of a distance.”

His roommate was absolutely right. The journey from the Dining Hall in the morning to their first class of the day took them approximately 20 minutes, even when they hurried as fast as they could without running; Workshop 405 was actually relatively near the Dining Hall and their bedrooms, meaning that he would have to run to get there in time.

“I’m off, then. See you later,” he told Verne and Norde, leaving them and the other first-years behind.

As he passed everyone at a run, he heard some of the existing first-years talking.

“Whoa, where’s he going at a run?”

“Why’s he in such a hurry?”

“Is he a Martial trainee? If so, why is he wearing a robe?”

“Hey, that isn’t, uh, you know, is it?”

That last whispered question made him nearly stop and confront whoever said it, but when he looked around he couldn’t tell who had spoken. Without breaking stride, he ran down a set of stairs and out through a door leading into the yard, as he deftly maneuvered around hundreds of students moving around the main walkway along the perimeter. There were so many kids and young adults moving around that it felt like a miniature city inside the Academy, as he even saw numerous staff wearing brown and even Professors making their way through the crowd. Never in his life could he ever have imagined so many people could live together in a relatively small area for how many people there were inside the massive building.

Larek wasn’t running as fast as he could, but he was still moving fast enough that he arrived at the door he needed to enter within minutes of leaving the last classroom. He slowed down as he approached the doors in order to open them, only for them to swing open while he was reaching for the handle. He quickly hopped out of the way so as not to be hit, moving off to the side. A small group of 6 older students wearing various colors of robes denoting their specializations emerged, a mixture of young men and women. They were laughing as they emerged, only to stop abruptly when they noticed him.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” one of the young women wearing a purple robe suddenly demanded with a sneer.  “Only those with specializations are allowed within these workshops.”

The Larek of a few months ago would’ve shrunk back and mumbled some sort of apology, but he had changed. Whether it was the introduction of his friends helping him to adjust to society at large or just a general reluctance to be pushed around so much anymore, Larek wasn’t planning on backing down to this young woman. Feeling for whether she or any of the others were Nobles, he couldn’t feel anything; she didn’t act like she hated or despised him, but she obviously felt like she was better than him.

Well, that’s too bad for her, then.

“My class is inside here and I don’t want to be late. Please move or I’ll be forced to move you myself.”

The 6 students looked shocked as if they couldn’t believe Larek was talking to them that way, but he didn’t have time for their games. When they didn’t move from where they were blocking the doorway, he placed his hands on either side of the purple-robed woman’s shoulders and then lifted her bodily out of his way before setting her down again, he was already passed them and inside the hallway before she recovered enough to scream.

Larek was already turning the corner and ignored the woman, knowing that he hadn’t hurt her, despite the scream. He wasn’t sticking around for them to accuse him of doing something inappropriate or harmful like he had in Rushwood Village; he’d learned his lesson well enough by now.

The hallway he moved down appeared similar to other ones he had gone through in the little time he had been at Copperleaf, but thankfully it was well lit by strong magical Fusion lighting, more so than anywhere else he had seen – which he took to be a good sign. He almost stopped to look at the Fusions on the lights but knew that he still needed to get to his class before he was late, so he moved his attention to the placards attached to the different doors he pass along the way.

According to the map, it should be right around… here!

Quiet, please! Fusions may be in progress!

Workshop 405

Larek chuckled softly at the warning, but he took it seriously. He knew how delicate Fusions could be once a Fusionist lost control of it, so he gently opened the door and walked inside while staying as quiet as he could.

At first glance, the room he walked into didn’t appear much different size-wise in comparison to the classrooms back at Crystalview. Instead of desks lining the floor, there were instead dozens of 8-foot-wide walls that emerged from perimeter of the room toward the center, spaced about 6 feet apart from each other. At the end of the walls was a door on a cleverly hidden hinge, where he could see that it could be closed, thereby blocking off everything within the 8-foot-wide walls.

Inside of these closet-like spaces were piles of pillows and small side tables, set up like some sort of high-backed sitting throne. From what he could see of a few that were empty of people, there were mostly empty plates of finished meals and emptied cups that appeared as if they hadn’t yet been cleared away. Larek immediately knew what these spaces were despite never seeing them before.

They were Fusion alcoves, designed to be comfortable for Fusionists as they created Fusions. His back was thankful just looking at the comfortable spaces as he remembered doing so many Fusions on the roof of Crystalview with just a relatively lumpy pillow underneath him for hours on end.

The Fusion alcoves were a like a dream come true.

Why didn’t I think of something like that?

In truth, he had created something similar on the Network carriage as he created Fusions for Rheina and Crester, but it was nothing like this decadence.

Looking around as he stepped further into the room with a delicate step, he noticed that 6 of the alcoves appeared to be occupied, as their doors were closed. In front of a few others sat a student on the plush rug that covered the entire floor, wearing loose-fitting “normal” clothing rather than a robe; he could see their robes had been removed and folded neatly by their sides.  In all, he counted two young women and two young men, all of them old enough to be at least fourth-year students, though they were more than likely fifth-year. They stared at him in surprise as he came in, though they didn’t say anything.

Before Larek could ask if the class had started without him, a soft voice asked from behind, “Excuse me; are you in the right place, young man?”

Book 2 Chapter 22: https://www.patreon.com/posts/fusionist-book-2-82627407