Prismatic Education Begins With A Spark 19 (MTG/Multicross)

Prismatic Education 19

“Wonderful!” 

That single word was accompanied by a flap of the snow-white feathery wings on the back of its speaker, which sent a sparkling wind blowing across every student in the class. Backs straightened, and bodies literally radiated with glowing pride. No matter how many times I saw it, the level of skill a master orator could demonstrate over us students never failed to impress.

Dean Shaile folded her wings back behind her back, clasping her clawed hands together as she looked around the classroom several times. For a Silverquill member of Radiance, she wore more black than one would expect, but that was probably so that it balanced out the white of her own feathers. Though in terms of behavior, she was unmistakably White, with strong adherence to rules and structure. 

“Before I dismiss you all, there is one small assignment. Practice wielding the light of two positive emotions in your spells. I will call upon some of you to demonstrate during the next class. ” 

A short pause, and she nodded to let us all know we were dismissed. “You may leave. Mr Staff, please stay behind for a bit after class.”

I acknowledged her request with a nod, aware of the attention I was drawing by being singled out like this. Though in reality, this was a consultation session that I had asked for on my own initiative.

“Again?” Someone murmured, curiosity mixed with sympathy in the tone.

I don’t know why you’d be worried. The maternal kindness in that owlin gaze is so obvious. I eyed the predominantly black Silverquill uniform of the person. Probably Shadow cynicism…

I took my time to pack away my lesson materials, before pulling out the binder I had been working on for the past two weeks. Compared to my textbooks, it was at least three times as thick as the thickest one, which made it very bulky and heavy. Dean Shaile eyed me with concern as I approached her with it in my arms.

“Are you alright, Mr Staff? You look like you have not been getting sufficient rest.”

Oh, I feel just the way I look. I fought a yawn in front of her, which she noticed.

“You’re not the first student to have stayed up late at night to work on their project. I would advise pacing yourself properly.” She said with gentle concern.

“Insufficient sleep isn’t the reason, Dean. This is.” I presented the binder to her, letting the owlin take it from my hands and start reading its contents.

There were many components to the written spell I envisioned. To describe it simply, the entire process would start the moment the caster tried to write the first character, generating a magical pressure on the caster that was meant to temper the body into a stronger version of itself. The more words written, the more intense the pressure would become. Stopping partway through was fine, with the caster incurring no blowback for doing so, but completing the entire writing would result in a significantly larger boost.

Splitting that entire process into components, the first part was to generate the energy for the spell with writing. That part I could easily accomplish, thanks to the lessons in Scriptology, and further polished by Advanced Lumimancy. The words I wrote gave off light that I could utilize with no problems, though it could be improved even more; I was in the middle of conducting tests with multiple drafts.

The next step was to convert that light into a body-tempering force, or in another term, something that would exert a purifying effect on my body, refining it into a better version of itself. That was my current bottleneck. I didn’t want a temporary enchantment that would fade eventually. After all, paladins have been shown to grow markedly stronger over time with adherence to their oath. Similarly, I wanted a permanent growth to the body’s constitution, to make it better able to endure whatever stresses that came its way. Turning righteousness into an ordeal to overcome, similar to increased gravity, but more than just simple physics. 

And so, I tried various ways to achieve that objective. Temporarily abstracted space with my desired laws of reality, channeling the infinite energy of the Golden Spin through my body, Prismatic Magic from my grimoire, and many other methods that I tested… that was the true culprit behind my body’s exhaustion.

Sometimes it was just plain gravity, other times I only got a boost enchantment, and even rarer I would get something almost like, but not quite what I wanted. False positives and ideal results that weren’t repeatable also cropped up from time to time. It would have been very discouraging if not for two things, my own desire to see it through and the support of those around me.

To top it all off, I had to document everything, because that was what the project demanded. My review sessions with my guidance counselors had painfully reminded me of that a few times. 

“Try not to rely too much on Flasks of Boundless Coffee,” Dean Shaile advised as she flipped through the papers of the binder, “And if your writing hand starts to ache, go see the infirmary. They are used to treating such conditions.”

“Of course.” Though so far, the Spin has been effective enough in keeping my hand in proper working condition. 

A convenient discovery between Nivali and me, that the Spin could help compensate for the functions of certain organs, like liver detoxing lactic acid.

“You can skip most of the middle section, that part is just the data from my experiments,” I pointed out, “I’ll be editing it down over time.”

Dean Shaile nodded, but said nothing as she continued to peruse the binder’s contents. At this current point in time, it was more of a lab report than an actual first draft. Eventually, she reached the end, closing it with a surprisingly pleasant snap before looking at me.

“Impressive work,” She praised, causing my body to glow yet again with her word magic, “Your efforts do you much credit. Seeing you polish your potential fills me with pride.”

“Thank you.” The way she says it just makes it so heartfelt that I can’t help accepting that compliment. “Do you have any advice on how I should proceed?”

Her expression turned serious. “You’re adept enough at lumimancy to draw out the light in your words with your writing. As you’re already aware, your stumbling block is shaping that light into the form you desire.”

She nailed it exactly, I thought, listening attentively.

“Your choice of poetry as your medium, based on the ballads of paladins’ deeds, is a convenient stroke of fortune.”

“How so?”

Momentary annoyance flashed through her countenance, replaced by cool respect. “There is a master of poetry magic available for you to consult.”

“You mean… Dean Lu?”

“None other.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “His lesson should have just ended, so you should be able to catch him if you leave now.”

I knew very well that she was right, because Dean Embrose Lu’s course on poetry magic was the one I chose to forego in place of hers. I had my suspicions that he purposely set his class at the same time slot as a form of challenge to Radiance about how Silverquill curriculum should be handled. Given that we were already several minutes past the end of the period, Dean Lu had a tendency to overstretch his classes.

Dean Shaile quickly scribbled out a note for me to pass to her colleague, gently slipping it into my hand while one of her wings opened out to pat me around my shoulders like a friendly arm. “Perhaps a touch of shadow might allow you to better perceive the light you seek.”

Stuffing the binder into my bag, I bade her goodbye and left the classroom. Rather than run and expend my already labored breath, I called upon Lyric to serve as my ride once more, riding the wave of black ink through the corridors, weaving between the other students leaving their classes.

I found the person in question walking away from the classroom where Poetry Magic was taught, students giving him a wide berth as his cane rapped on the floor like the butt of a grim reaper’s scythe. Recalling Lyric back into my grimoire, I slowly approached, aware of the disbelieving gazes of the other students seeing me approach the Dean of Shadow.

Alright. Have confidence. “Excuse me, Dean Lu!”

The man paused, turning slightly so that I could finally see his head instead of the back of his high robe collar. His gaze burned into me, almost feeling as though I was plunged into lava.

No confidence. I gulped, and forced out the words I had in mind. “I-I was told to ask you for help, sir.” I extended the note from Dean Shaile.

Unlike the owlin Dean of Radiance, no one would ever say that Embrose Lu had kindness in him. If there was, it probably had been utterly extinguished by the towering pillar of self-affirmation and disdain for others, which fueled his mastery of ink magic. Praise coming from him was extremely scarce, but one could always expect a cutting remark for those who failed to meet his standards. Even the most confident Silverquill students dared not cross the man. 

“Quandrix. Here.” It was remarkable how two simple words could sound so disdaining. 

Instead of asking further, he plucked the note from my hand and read it. Once he was done, ink gushed out from his hand, consuming it only to leave soot-like fragments floating away. His heavy scrutiny fell on me once more, but this time there was a scant interest in those dark eyes.

“Before I even consider helping someone who is not even my student,” His deep voice made one think of an abyssal god, whose words shook the earth, “I would witness proof that there is potential to invest in.”

Wisps of ink wafted off him, the smoky tendrils caressing my body. I could feel them wicking away my confidence, like dry winds stealing away moisture. However, my lumimancy wasn’t so frail.

As that boy told the seeker of darkness… the source of all hearts… is Light!

A glow suffused my skin, causing the ink near it to evaporate away. 

Dean Lu sniffed. “Follow me. Let us talk in my office.”

Whispers from the other students trailed in our wake as I did as he said.

…

Pushing the key into the keyhole, I unlocked the door, and stepped into the advanced student stacks. Almost instantly, one of the constructs in the area started approaching me. I held still and waited, watching as it stopped a short distance away. Its appearance resembled that of a full suit of armor, but though it held no weapons, I had no misconception about its ability to subdue intruders and rulebreakers.

“Halt. Give the password.” It recited.

I spoke the sequence of words one of the librarians downstairs had provided me, which was a mix of different languages.

“Friend. Be welcome.” 

The shield guardian turned, and slowly marched off down another aisle.

Compared to the lower levels, this section of the Biblioplex was a great deal quieter, with the only source of sound that could be considered noise coming from the group of senior students playing a magical game in the lounge, with a few others relaxing on the couches present with their choice of reading material.

However, my interest was reserved for the stacks further in, where all the restricted knowledge was stored. Out of curiosity, I flicked through a few books from each college, just to see what about them necessitated being kept away from the public.

Hmm… okay, yeah, these spells don’t just suggest having a minimum level of spellcasting ability, they demand it. Given the results of failures, unqualified mage students having access to these is just asking for trouble. I opened the Witherbloom book on curse- and plague-weaving, then shut it quickly with a wince. I know some mages dabble in Black magic, but that’s just too much for me.

Unlike the books here, the tomes for the public were curated to encourage the learning and mastery of magic, and I wholeheartedly approved of that. 

“Let’s just leave it that way,” I murmured to myself as I returned the books to their original places.

I still took note of some of the titles that interested me, intending to return for them once I was done with my project. For now, there were books that awaited me.

Other fourth-years filtered in and out of the place as I slowly read through the several tomes I had brought over to a large desk, doing my best to absorb the arcane knowledge I needed. I lost track of time for a bit, until a sudden thump made me look up to see another Silverquill student sitting in the chair opposite.

Contrary to the usual neat appearance of a Silverquill, this half-elf mage’s appearance was rather ruffled, with rumpled clothing bearing small green stains, and bearing slight scratches on his skin. He probably wasn’t intending to join me at my table, but clearly he had just finished some intense training and needed a seat. Something about it looked familiar, and it took me a moment before I placed it.

“Loquacious Lyceum?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah...” He groaned in a raspy voice that had been overworked, before looking at me. “Wait, how’d you know about that?”

The place I had named was a special training ground for senior Silverquill pledgemages, requiring passing a qualification test to even enter. Many inkmasters had challenged the Lyceum over the decades, pitting their ability to voice vicious vocabulary against a constantly growing forest that sought to crush and suffocate them. One would expect such a place to be located on Silverquill campus, but it was actually hidden in one of the many corridors of the Biblioplex. As for how I knew about it? That was Dean Lu’s choice of test for me.

It was not an experience I would like to repeat, especially since he demanded that I only use ink magic, not any of my elemental, Prismatic or Quandrix spells.

However, I managed to pass, earning myself the right to ask for his help. It started off with a list of books of recommended reading.

“And you’re reading…” He squinted at the book in my hands. “Esoteric Poetry Spells? Aren’t you Quandrix?”

I stared at him. “It’s a long story, but it’s for my project.”

He held up a hand to stop me. “Ah, say no more.” 

It was something of an unspoken rule. Interference invited interference. I nodded to the Silverquill student and returned to my book. He moved off after he caught his breath, leaving me alone once more. 

After I finished my current book, I went on to the next one, titled Silence in Quillmancy, which explored nonverbal word magic. I skimmed through the initial parts on gestures and sign language, before finding what I wanted in the section on writing.

This is it! This is the piece I was missing! I see now, so this is how I should be casting the spell! A grin spread across my face as I quickly took down notes. It’s going to take practice to get the hang of it, but it’s considerably more progress than I had before.

A gurgle reminded me that I had missed my meal, so I decided to finally leave the stacks. 

The door locked itself automatically once I closed, but as long as I had the key, I could return anytime I wanted during the Biblioplex’s opening hours. The key itself could stay in my possession until the deadline I was given, but I had to take very good care of it. Losing it was absolutely not an option.

Plus there’s that other warning I was given…

Returning to my dorm, I was interrupted by Lydia the dorm assistant. 

“Senior Staff, you just came back?” She asked me in her usual friendly tone. “Studying hard?”

“Yeah…” 

“Have you had your dinner yet?”

“No, I was actually planning to go out for a meal after I drop off my stuff.”

“Oh no, you must be hungry! Here, I made a bit too much food, so you can have some!” Lydia took out a few sandwiches from a food box, handing them to me. “Oh, and I’ve got some juice to go with it. It’s a special brew from my home. Try it!”

I accepted the cup she filled from a thermos. “You do know I’m in a relationship, right?”

She waved it off. “Of course, of course. This is just a way to repay you for your help.”

“If you say so.” I brought the cup up to my mouth and drank. 

The drink was sweet and soothing, and I hummed appreciatively as I felt my brain suddenly clear up. Ah, I get it now… So that’s what it was about. 

“How is it? Do you like it?” Lydia inquired.

“It’s great.” I finished the cup and returned it to her. “Thanks for the drink and the food.”

“It was nothing.” She said modestly. “But there is something you could help me with…”

Well… why not? This seems interesting.

Afterword: Finals project does seem like quite an ordeal, and that was what I was trying to portray here. Somehow, it feels like writing Silverquill makes my muse more verbose than usual. I couldn’t help putting some alliteration and stuff because that’s just how it feels. Not as much Strixhaven original stuff this time though; the Loquacious Lyceum is something that’s mentioned in one of the official stories. Still, I hope you all enjoyed it.