The Eyebright's Dimension

Chapter Eighteen: Origns of Magic Class

From her usual seat in Mr. Jamien’s Origin of Magic class, Eunae watched a drizzly rain brush against the closed windows of the classroom as Mr. Jamien lectured in the front. The gray, muckiness of the day cast a drowsy spell over all the students, and when she periodically glanced at the others, all she saw were fifteen heads on desks. Next to her, Calixte was scribbling something that was definitely not notes.

She felt a sudden change in the classroom atmosphere and looked around the classroom. All she saw was the back of heads slumped over their arms, which was nothing out of the ordinary.

“…this was, of course, shortly before King Aleron the First began to plan the Academy,” lectured Mr. Jamien, and Eunae realized what she had sensed.

Mr. Jamien was going to talk about the Academy, an area she really had no knowledge about. So she pulled herself away from the window and started to pay attention.

Mr. Jamien paused a little, scratched the bald spot at the crown of his head, and said, “To really appreciate the history of the Academy, one must start from the first population of our Earth. According to most ancient folklore, the first people came to our land from another dimension, or another world, or something of the sort. However, these people soon forgot the knowledge of Aé, all except for a select group that called themselves the People of the North, who lived a quiet, peaceful existence with their power on the isolated continent of Nairi. At that time, only those that did not remember magic inhabited the Ailsan and Lamarian continents.” Eunae had heard that particular story before, and wondered if she should bother paying attention.

“But one generation of the People was not satisfied with the quiet use of their power. This generation was born under Aelt’s Comet, which appears many times in mythology as the bringer of turbulence—class, please write that down. Some say this magical force swayed a small sect to break away from the People and form their own group: the Warriors of the North. The Warriors left Nairi and conquered Ailsa and Lamar, and, as most of you know, Aleron, the fiercest of all the Warriors, founded Irinifa and became her first King.”

He nodded impressively at all the dozing faces. Eunae, however, continued to pay attention, for she felt it would get interesting. She could sense it.

“Aleron, of course, saw the need for a magical Academy, and founded one quite early in his reign. It was the first and the finest of its type, a marvel of architecture, design, and magic. Actually, the only structure from the Age of Aleron still in existence is here at the Academy. Does anyone know what it is?”

No one else heard the question, for they weren’t paying attention, and Eunae didn't want to.

Mr. Jamien sighed, and said, “The Battle Island, where the Combat Contests take place. The Island, which isn’t really an Island, per se, is the only structure in existence. King Aleron’s finest mages created the Island as a place where one could attack with Aé, but still not be hurt—a perfect training ground. All of you have stepped onto that Island, so you will all understand what I mean by the amount of magical residue on that Island. It’s heady, and can quite overwhelm those not used to magic. Land does not give off such a strong magical force; the reason for this is because the Island is not real land. It is built on gathered, concentrated Aé. No one knows exactly how Aleron’s mages built the Island, for we have long lost that knowledge. However, according to legend, there is a maze of catacombs within the Island itself, holding it up, and, in the center of this maze is some sort of Aé conductor, or an object of ancient power that sustains the entire structure.

“As you all should know from yesterday’s reading, no one has ever found these catacombs, though many attempts have been made. Although, of course, we could be wasting our time, because according to legend, only those touched by ancient magic could see it, and those are quite rare in our time.” Mr. Jamien chucked. “But it would be quite a find, so if any of you have been touched by ancient magic, be sure to check next time you’re on the Island!”

That was interesting, and Eunae was glad she paid attention, for she had wondered about how the Island had sustained itself. Then, unwanted, Valorén’s words rose to the top of her mind.

“I can feel those dratted catacombs calling me…”

Could that possibly be the same catacombs, the same ones on the Island? Eunae sighed, for recalling that overhead conversation always led to one emotion. Her head filled with wonder, and then curiosity, and she glanced at Calixte, that feeling rising in her throat—the feeling of guilt.

She had not told Calixte about the overheard conversation, and, although she had made some half-hearted attempts, she felt, for some odd reason, that Calixte unconsciously seemed to head off all discussion of the topic, something that Eunae was not upset to do.

The bell rang, dismissing the students, and Eunae and Calixte filed out into the hallways of the PAB, as they did every day.

“What did you think of the lesson?” Calixte asked Eunae.

“I learned something,” admitted Eunae. “I hardly know anything about the Academy.”
“But you must have felt that the Island wasn’t…well, land,” Calixte said as they exited the PAB, drawing their cloaks up against the rain.

“Yes, I felt the concentration of Aé, but thought it ridiculous that the entire place be made of it,” replied Eunae with a little laugh. “Although I shouldn’t doubt what I feel.”

“Really, you shouldn’t,” said Calixte, suddenly serious. “You have that Sensorist Master thing coming up, don’t you?”

“Tomorrow,” Eunae answered.

“You don’t sound too nervous,” laughed Calixte.

Eunae shrugged. “I don’t have much stake in it.”

Calixte’s eyes grew serious again as they reached a distance far enough from the Quad to be able to fly.

“It must be nice,” she murmured. “Not to care.”

This statement, for whatever reason, reminded Eunae of that overheard conversation, and, guilt stabbing her insides, she said slowly, “I didn’t see you right before the Final Round started.”

Calixte looked at her with surprise, and then with immediate wariness. “Something came up,” she said vaguely.

“What happened?” Eunae asked, feeling a bit nosy.

Calixte stopped in the air and hovered for a moment, and Eunae could see the indecision written across her face. “Just…something,” she said at last. “Really, it wasn’t important.”

“You seemed kind of upset when I saw you before, though,” Eunae pressed.

Calixte turned towards Eunae, her eyes dark and narrowed. “I told you it was nothing,” she snapped. “It was nothing.”

Trying to change the subject, Eunae said, “Morwenn showed up at my Unit practice.”

“She seems to be doing that often these days,” Calixte murmured, her snappiness forgotten immediately. “I wonder…”

Uninvited, more of Valorén’s words crept up into Eunae’s mind. Hadn’t she said that Morwenn was keeping an eye on Calixte?

“Maybe there’s a reason,” said Eunae, “that she’s watching you so carefully.”

“Besides Combats?” Calixte smiled.

“Well, maybe she’s…I don’t know. She’s doing it for—”

Calixte turned toward Eunae. “No,” she replied.

Eunae knew that Calixte understood what she was saying, and felt relieved. Maybe they could finally talk about it…

“Look, just forget about it,” said Calixte. “Just forget about the whole thing. There’s nothing with Morwenn. She’s always been like that. It’s always been like that. I'm sure there's another reason.”

The look in Calixte’s eyes disturbed her more than her words, and Eunae clammed up. How could she even begin to touch on that subject when Calixte didn’t even want to think about it? Perhaps it would be better to leave it alone, said the little voice in the back of Eunae’s mind. But an even stronger voice told her something was wrong, and she couldn’t ignore the voice this time. She still remembered what happened to her father the last time she did, and couldn’t help but have the sinking feeling something even worse could happen with Calixte.