Majic Mushrooms

Majic Mushrooms
By Christopher Barker
2003

The low humming travelled through the ancient walls as if the building itself was trembling; this was a place of Majic, where students were trained in the mystic arts, where they hunched over books and made symbols in the air. Generally they were nothing more than conjurer's tricks; majic was easy if it was taught right… but this school was also a business. If the students were taught properly they'd be performing Grade A majic in no time and pretty soon there'd be cows flying around campus and other such hilarity from the various frats.

As it was, people rarely left the school with more than a basic knowledge of majic, which actually didn't matter, as now technology was becoming more commonplace. Majic was seen as old fashioned and despite various advertising campaigns course attendance was low, even sociology was better attended.

Right now the building rumbled not in fear of being abandoned but in fear of the two Majicians doing battle on the campus gardens.

They both hit each other repeatedly with bolts of lightening and the classic fire from your sleeves attack. The eldest of the two was a professor named Clyde Wiswold, he was very old school in his views and sported a once fashionable long white beard, which as we spoke was singed by a well aimed lava shot. Around campus he had a reputation for his hard line marking and he way he could render any argument mute with nothing more than a look. He had been at the school for as long as anybody remembered and never seemed to age a bit.

The other combatant was a student at that school who went by the name 'Wire', he was an upstart by nature, he was inquisitive and intelligent and dangerous. He had been a nice shy boy with an adequate educational record; that was until he attended Glazenbary, the largest music event on the never world. Glazenbary was, for want of a better word, strange. Every type of majical, mythical creature attended like clockwork every year, many on the principle that it was a STD benefit event (Save the Dragons). Every year 800, 000 Goblins, Elves, Grand Wizards, Alchemists and 2 Sociology Students attended and the ground of the field where they camped was turned to sludge which then walked away due to the majical influences in the air.

For the past month he had been studying the various text at the library and missing lessons as he did so; he was determined to do well and not come out as an average student but he was also wired on every type of drug he could find (and he could find a lot). A side effect of this made him angry which wasn't very good for impressing professors.

'Wire' ducked and himself became impressed at what the old man just threw at him, it came from his blind side while the had been engaged in the frontal battle a stone gargoyle had 'flown' towards his head; he only saw it because of the awareness given by the coffee he had injected directly into his blood stream (The majic mushrooms just weren't 'cutting it' any more even if his suppliers were.)

'Wire' smiled and pushed an assault with the 'mental majic' he had learned just a few weeks previous.

Wiswold felt a pain seer into his frontal lobe, it had been a long time since he had studied tele-pathics and he had certainly never experienced it first hand; Wired rearranged a few memories confusing Wiswold, while suppressing his attempts to throw more fire... Oh! Credit card numbers thank you very much.

Wiswold's limbs and mouth were motionless; the movement was being cut off at the source. He had to think of a way to break the contact, a way that 'Wire' wouldn't be able to prevent. He thought back to when he was young and the answer flashed before him temporarily before it was whisked away and put with the memories dealing with bakery. One thing every teenager was prone to… he strained hard to form a mental picture it began to take shape and Wire's hold started to wane. His mind fought to bring the picture from the shadows created by 'Wire'.

'Wire' saw the image of the naked woman and his eyes glazed as he focused on it he was weakening. Derk saw his opportunity from his place in the crowd and rugby tackled 'Wire' from the sidelines; it was a poorly aimed tackle but it worked.
Derk, the Teachers Pet was on top of him and his spindly fingers grasped at his neck.
'Wire' struggled and his mind returned fully to his body at about the same speed that he slammed his knee into Derks groin.

"HmmmmpppHHhhhhhh!!!!" There was a draw of breath and a brief cough from every guy watching as Derk rolled off.

'Wire' looked from his viewpoint on the ground to Wiswold who knelt hands on his head in an effort to keep it from falling apart. They both stood swaying slightly; 'Wire' grasped at his robe to stop it blowing up while at the same time trying to do it in a manly way.
Wiswold wiped some blood from his lip and then stared at his crumpled 'savior'. "Physical violence… So unnecessary." He then directed his head and his comments to 'Wire' using his real name, "Wilfred. If we are to do this, we are to do it right."

There was a flash of light and 'Wire' felt a tingle in his stomach like that night when he ate the bad pot noodle. When it subsided he found himself and Wiswold now alone, standing in a room full of statues, his eyes adjusted slowly to the light and he noticed the highly detailed craftsmanship. Each one was sculpted in the shape of a wizard, each individual each unique.

They formed a large circle around him consisting on multiple rows extending outwards like a wall. In the distance there was nothing but blackness and sculptures; thousands of stone wizards crowding to get a glimpse… of what? 'Wire' looked down and noticed that he stood in a circular ring, there were no ropes but he could tell what it was for. He shook his foot; some of the sand had somehow found it's way into his shoes; he hated that.

There was a chuckle. "Yes my boy! This is much more like it, no gawking onlookers, no interference." He strolled to one of the stone wizards "Magnificent aren't they?"

"They're okay… who did 'em?"

Another chuckle and Wiswold touched the statue's nose as if removing an invisible piece of dirt. "Well! I did this one." He beamed.

"And all this time I thought you was a jack ass, now you're a talented jack ass." It was Wire's turn to chuckle.

"Yes quite! When I said I did this one, I don't mean I sculpted it." He turned and stared intensely "Oh no, nothing of the sort. This is the Medusa ring, I trust you know who medusa was?"

"Yeah! And?"

" And! this is a sacred arena, used through the ages by battling wizards to keep the ambient majic to a minimum on the Never world."

"Yeah! And?" Teenagers!!!

"Oh for deighty's sake. The looser of a battle here is turned into a statue. In fact this one here was another student of mine, I obviously didn't teach him well enough."

"Ohhhh!!! Okay!!!"

"Any questions?"

"Is this going to be on the test?" he beamed at his defiance.

"Let's see how well I taught you."

The air fizzled and Wired barely managed to cast the shielding spell in time, the bolt sent by Wiswold 'bounced' from the invisible field and hit a the stony remains of a tall, impassive onlooker, making him about a foot shorter in the process.

"Hey gramps go easy… you might have a heart attack or somethin'." Wired smiled and sent the shiled towards Wiswold knocking him clean off his feet.

Wiswold stood and dusted off his gown, "Ahhh! Good boy… you should have followed up with a demon of some sort but quick thinking none the less. C+"

Wired motioned using his eyes to behind Wiswold… the 20 foot horned beast hung over him and waited for him to turn around. "It's times like this when I am pleased I chose teaching… make that a B+." he pointed his finger as the demon took a swipe and it fizzled from view with a scream… "No repel spell? Oh dear… B-."

Wiswold raised his arms high and wiggled his fingers as if playing a large piano, the ground began to shake and some of the older statues crumbled, 'Wire' couldn't keep his balance and fell crashing onto one of his hands which twisted the wrong way, there was a slight crack. He didn't notice the pain, that was how high he was; he scrambled to his feet with a rolling action just in time to miss the bolt of lighting that made a crater of where he just was. Flinging out his hand he cast some sort of blast from his fingers… but his damaged hand pointed to the floor, exploding on impact with the ground a short distance away sending him flying backwards again seeing spots.

He shook him self, the drugs were starting to wear off and it was going to be long drop down from his high, Wiswold saw this and grinned. 'Wire' steadied himself and closed his eyes… a heavy techo-beat erupted through the air as from invisible speakers, and 'Wire' began to dance an almost tribal dance. His arms and legs flailed in time to the music, the ground shook with the base; the ground shook loose into shards as it al flew up and circled impacting Wiswold, the eye of the dance storm forming around 'Wire'. The statues followed the ground and broke up joining the assault. 'Wire' still danced rising from the ground, his hand didn't matter anymore… he was too far into the spell for anything to matter. Wiswold began to glow and then dance, a puppet to 'Wire' and his majic. The music reached a crescendo and everything came crashing back down, mortar was strewn about the place and dust filled the air sharing it with silence.
'Wire's' eyes opened slowly and he wiped his nose where a small run of blood formed. He staggered over to where Wiswold lay, his body was covered and bruised and broken, his eyes still contained life and his breathing was shallow.

"Yes!!!!!!!!!!!! What do you think of that then old man? Huh? What fucking grade do I get for that shit???" screamed 'Wire'.

Wiswold shrugged and rolled his head to look where the statues once stood proud, and said in a croaky voice,
"About time somebody did something about those things… it was getting crowded in here. Place could do with a clean though." He ended with a cough.

"No damn you! Give me a grade you bastard!!! Say it! 'A plus'!!! 'A pluuuuuuuuuuuuusss'!!!"

Wiswold's breathing gave out and he disappeared in front of 'Wire's' eyes only to reappear a short distance away as a statue, standing, proud and smiling. Smiling a mocking smile, lips stony, no grade forthcoming.

Wire rocked back on his haunches… how was he going to explain this to everybody… the 'comedown' hit him like a train, he fell backwards and before he hit the ground he reappeared at the campus, to be more exact it was in front of a class full of students. He looked down, his attired, that of flannel and tartan.

-What I didn't know then. And what I know now. Was that the old codger had tricked me. I had been cursed to teach for all eternity, my only escape was to be beaten in fair battle. That curse had now been passed to me, to train a student so well that he would be able to beat his teacher… it had taken Wiswold all these years and all those statues were potentials… now it's my turn… -

END