Prismatic Education Begins With A Spark 18 (MTG/Multicross)

Prismatic Education 18

Channeling Red mana into the staff I was holding, I blasted the enchanted testing tool with the power of an inferno in the form of a flamethrower. As my magic flowed through the item I had found in the dungeon, the discs that made up its head spun at varying speeds. I held it for ten seconds before cutting off the attack, and took note of the effect on the tool. It was currently smoking and a little charred, but still sturdy enough. 

In the meantime, I looked at the floating screen displaying the readings of my testing. Measurable values such as temperature change and mana flow efficiency were displayed, with a baseline to compare them to. As expected, there was a distinctive difference.

I’m sure I thought it before, but Computational Magic sure helps with analysis and research. Thanks to it, I’ve gained an understanding of what this staff does. To think it was a spell augmenter, made to work via physical means. 

I glanced at my collaborators, who were reviewing the same data on their own end behind the safety screen. One of them was a green-dressed bear I knew well in my early years, while the other was a Lorehold professor I had only gotten to know recently.

“Alright. Take a break while we check over the readings,” Professor Ruxa informed me.

Next to him, Professor Osgir was examining his produced copy of the staff, though it had been carefully dismantled into its separate components. His thick fingers handled the parts with surprising delicateness as he noted down the features of each, and how they interacted with each other.

The characters along the edges weren’t actually characters from some ancient script, but mathematical symbols defining spell variables. When a mage casts a spell using the staff, the discs would spin in response to the mana, which in turn adjusted certain variables of the spell, leading to an enhanced output. However, the alterations could vary greatly; some spells weren’t affected entirely, while others were practically on another level. We were trying to gain a better understanding of why that was, hence this testing session.

As far as I could tell, the biggest factor was the element being used, followed by the intensity, or level, of the spell. That stood to reason, given the prevalence of grimoires in that plane, those were the variables that were easiest to control for the mages there.

This current endeavor was a side project, mainly to earn some favor with the teachers involved. For Lorehold, this was a glimpse of the ingenuity of ancients, achieving success through a different paradigm. Quandrix pledgemages could already accomplish more than what the staff was capable of with their own magic, but from a foundational standpoint, it was a very good physical example of basic Quandrix magic. But as a bonus, the alternate paradigm it represented could possibly advance magic further.

Though I’ll leave that to those who are smarter than me. My mind is already overheating trying to figure out this puzzle box of a staff. I set it aside on a rack, running my hand along the others next to it, my own personal creations. I much prefer the ones I made, with simple enhancing effects.

There was one with several crystals set in it for light and Prismatic Magic, another with the spare groff skull for Arcane and necromantic magic, a third with recesses to place my spinning balls in as batteries to cast augmentic magic with, and a Prismari one to enhance lightning and fire. These, in addition to the basic spellcasting staff, served as comparisons to the one that was the main focus of our testing.

I was still taking commissions from other students to make them, though with a reduced waiting list because of final year stuff. Technically, I didn’t really need the money with all the treasure I found, but it did help keep my artificing skills polished.

I thought of the Quandrix one that I was idly working on back in my dorm rooms. Making use of abstraction to alter the mana pathways inside a crystal lattice… I think what knowledge I can glean from this staff will help quite a bit.

It was that thirst for knowledge that made me align the most with Blue after all.

“You’re asking us about final projects?” Ruxa eyed blinked at me later as we were finishing up.

I nodded. “Yeah. Just asking out of curiosity, since I’m going to be working on mine this year. Any ones that were particularly memorable?”

Osgir rumbled thoughtfully. “There was one pastraiser student who figured out how to link several spirits’ recollections together to recreate a more thorough replication of a location they were involved with. The spell is now part of the pastraiser curriculum.”

“Accomplishments like that deserve to be lauded,” Ruxa agreed, before looking at me, “I’m hard pressed to think of any projects that stood out in the past decade, but I can tell you what are the most common ones.”

I gave a nod of interest. 

He raised a paw and cast a spell, forming a fractal squirrel. “Modification of fractals.”

My eyes widened a little. “That’s it?”

Ruxa chuckled as the tiny fractal scampered off his paw and around the room. “Oh, it’s not as easy as you think. You have your advantage of elemental enchantments, but most Quandrix students will struggle to do the same. You know about Esix, yes?”

Of course I did. Esix was as famous within Quandrix as Octavia was within Prismari. Unlike other fractals that were imitations of living creatures, Esix was uniquely-shaped, looking like an ornately carved mask with segmented curves. According to the school’s records, a group of Quandrix students had been trying to devise an infinite equation, only to create Esix by accident. The living theorem had somehow gained a defense that neutralized any formulaic spells cast to deactivate it, but fortunately it was obsessed with calculating infinity, so eventually the faculty concluded it was safe to just leave it be. Sometimes, one could see the results of its calculations around it, such as spiraling spell patterns or an evolving sequence of fractal creatures. It made for a nice lightshow when the sun went down.

“You mean…”

The bear mage nodded. “Esix isn’t the only fractal with such abilities, there have been others with unique magic abilities of their own, created by many past students.”

“Now that’s interesting.” I guess Esix just happened to be the only one they couldn’t hide. “So why aren’t the spells to create these special fractals taught in class?”

“They are, but only in the highest vivification course. As you know, a poorly cast spell is dangerous to not only its caster, but everyone else around him.”

Hmm, so there’s a likely chance that I can find notes on creating such fractals on the Biblioplex’s second floor. I nodded in understanding, before turning to Osgir, who started talking without me even having to ask.

“Lorehold students usually write their thesis about the impact of historical events on nations or groups with a large influence on matters of that time, or exploring the gaps in the records of those periods,” The giant explained in his slow style of talking, “But magically-speaking, there have been those who have devised spells to better connect with the history of Arcavios.”

“Ah yes, like how you earned your title of the Reconstructor,” Ruxa commented to his colleague, who just inclined his head without responding to that. Ruxa looked back at me and continued, “As for my colleagues in Theory, the most common project they encounter lies in the abstraction of space.”

“Challenging Dean Imbraham’s equation bounties?” I guessed out loud. 

“Indeed.”

“Anyway,” Osgir interrupted, “It shouldn’t be long before your counselors give you the instructions regarding your final project, so you can ask them directly then.”

He rose to his tall, intimidating height, towering over the other two of us. Recognizing the end of the break period, Ruxa and I stood up as well, ready to resume our experiments.

…

Just as I had been told, all the fourth-year students had meetings with their counselors, a few weeks before the usual exam period. Those sessions were to share the details of undertaking a project. Supposedly, students who weren’t doing too well were advised not to try for a project, and those who opted out of it would just take course exams like in previous years.

For the project takers, there would still be exams, just minor ones so that they could devote more time to working on their project topic. However, the intensity was no joke; first we started off with proposals, which may or may not be approved by our guidance counselors. After that, experiments for data, writing reports on top of reports, submission to the counselors or peer boards for review and feedback, then repeating the process over and over until it arrived at a satisfactory result. And that was assuming everything went well. There were stories about students who had to abandon their chosen project topic because it wasn’t meaningful, couldn’t be properly substantiated, or just lost their passion and couldn’t sustain it.

Now I get why we see so many fourth-years looking so stressed all the time… I rested my head on my left hand, while my other hand tapped a quill on the paper before me. Noticing another error, I crossed it out with several strokes. I really need a word processor program… Or I could just get Lyric to erase the errors before I rewrite.

Next to me, Nivall made a sound of amusement. “Why do you keep crossing that word out?”

“Apparently, a thesis is a compilation and review of already existing research. Since I’m trying to develop something new, it’s called a dissertation instead.”

Around the table, my other friends stared at me, before some of them groaned and made their own corrections. The five of us plus Nivall, who chose to insert herself into our group this time instead of staying with her own, were currently in the Bow’s End Tavern, a brief gathering organized by Dyna for the purposes of discussing final projects.

The fire genasi lifted her tankard to drink, before giving it an annoyed look. “Could I get another round here, please!” She called out to a passing waiter, who nodded to acknowledge her.

“I’m kind of jealous of you,” Nivali told Nivall (they had formed a friendship over their name similarity), a rare surly look on the brunette’s face, “You Prismari just need to submit artworks or performances.”

“Not true at all,” The air genasi denied, “The ones studying aesthemancy have to submit a thesis on the principles of beauty, and there are muse channelers who research the effect of their inspirational blasts.”

“What about dancers?” Vyse inquired, looking at her through heavy-lidded eyes.

“There are one or two who are writing about the development of dance. One of them is even doing so from a Lorehold perspective, I hear.”

A few glances were directed at me, and I just responded with a placid gaze of my own.

With all the different colleges, students choosing a project topic not part of their affiliated college’s theme wasn’t rare. Uncommon at the most. And I happened to be one of them.

“Anyway, planning my own performance is more than just creating my own choreography,” Nivall said briskly. “But enough about me, what are all of you working on?”

We exchanged looks, before Hofri decided to start the ball rolling.

His topic was to develop spirit statue sculpting techniques, in order for other spiritcallers to eventually replicate what he was able to do. A worthy undertaking for sure, as both his counselors agreed. In contrast, Dyna was researching a famous army’s warsinging techniques, with a focus on how it influenced the development of war magic spells in that age. It sounded interesting, but I had no idea how she was going to go about gathering the info.

Vyse’s choice of project was just what Ruxa said about the most common Theory project, except he credited me for inspiring his selection.

“Thanks to this,” He held up the shell I had given to him as a souvenir from my trip, “I’ve thought of some ideas I’d like to apply to abstraction.”

“Well, you’re welcome. Hope you manage to pull it off.”

He nodded to me, tucking the shell away into a pouch before joining the rest of us in looking at Nivali.

“Mine’s just research into crossbreeding plants to improve qualities for herbology purposes,” She said modestly, “Nothing big.”

“Don’t put yourself down,” Vyse told her, “We all know that you’re talented with plants, so you’re sure to excel.”

Her blush was nearly imperceptible in the tavern’s dim light, but the smile Nivali gave him was impossible to miss. Those two were deepening their relationship in their own way, and I felt a cool hand take hold of mine beneath the table.

“Well, Roy?” Hofri leaned forward, placing an elbow on the table as he stared at me. “What’s this project idea of yours that requires you to read into ancient paladin orders?”

Of the others, only Dyna looked unsurprised. She probably heard about it from Hofri in the first place, but the others were taken aback. 

“You’re doing a Lorehold project, even though you’re Quandrix?” Vyse asked curiously. “What brought this on?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not a Lorehold project at all. It just borrows a bit from it.”

“Alright already, just explain it straight for us!” Dyna was glowing a little, the alcohol starting to affect her.

Chuckling, I obliged, but not before raising a privacy field. While project topics were generally unlikely to overlap, not all Strixhaven students were fine examples of integrity; there were rumors of grudges forming because one student stole another’s project idea. Given the uniqueness of my idea, my guidance counselors advised me to be discreet in talking about it.

“The core of it is actually Silverquill,” I began, “It’s a combination of several disciplines from the courses I learned before…”

The initial idea came about due to the combination of several triggered memories over the course of my time at Strixhaven, which presented a fictional story where the main character came across a physical training method that could be done just by writing out a poem. How would simply writing words strengthen one’s body? That sounded too incredible to be true, but I had done independent research to see if such a thing could be replicated through magic, and the results were promising. Enough to choose it as my project topic.

“According to my memory, the energy of ‘righteousness’ is supposed to temper and strengthen the body, and there’s enough of a link between what we learned in Scriptomancy and a paladin’s oath to draw upon that,” I explained with accompanying gestures.

“So that’s why you were reading up on those records where paladins managed to claim victory against the odds,” Hofri realized, “But those blessings are usually temporary.”

I nodded. “Exactly. I’m trying to see if it’s possible to make it more permanent through combining other disciplines.”

Lumimancy opened my eyes to the effect of light, and then there’s already ample proof that poetry can enhance magic, whether it’s in inkomancy or archaeomancy. So what happens if I use mathematical formulae in it too? 

“That’s quite ambitious,” Vyse commented.

“It is, but I’m really hopeful for it. Besides, there’s this saying, ‘Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars’.”

Nivall smiled at me. “Very inspiring quote. Did it come from the Silverquill dean?”

“I think so?” I dispelled the privacy field, letting the surrounding conversation filter back in.

“Well, I hope you succeed!” Dyna told me cheerfully. “I hope we all succeed!”

“Cheers to that!” 

We raised our drinks in a shared toast, and the topic turned to more cheerful things.

Before we called it a night, our group of friends agreed to meet up occasionally. With the oncoming storm of intense stress, it might help prevent ourselves from burning out. 

Plus there was always the possibility of getting the sudden inspiration needed for a breakthrough, I mused to myself as I headed back to my dorm room. Hmm, I really can’t wait to get started!

Afterword: And that’s yet another chapter! I was doing a bit of research about thesis writing and other things to write it, and it was slow going. Trying to imagine original ideas for final projects for other students really pushed my muse hard, but I think I did a good enough job. 

Wonder if any of my readers recognize the idea that Roy is pursuing, and where it came from?