Shadowcast

The First Day of Class

"Good morning, class," said the stern-looking half orc standing in front of the chaotic clusters of desks that peppered the singed floor, "I'm Master Sergeant Rank-Two Jordas Garon, but that's a mouthful, so Professor Garon or just Mister Garon is fine. Many wizards discount evocation magic. They think it's a brutish form of magic. A grotesque display of destructive power. Sure, it isn't the prettiest magic. But where would the illusionist's dazzling shows be if she got murked by bandits without a trusty firebolt? Where would the abjurer's world-saving wards be without his evoker's quick thinking and quicker hands? Where would the transmuter's scientific marvels be without their defensive spells? Evocation is the simplest type of magic, yes. But underestimating it is deadly." He clenched his fist and punched the air in front of him. A bolt of fire flew from his fist, striking the far wall.

Simple enough, Liza thought to herself, Wait 'til he gets to the crazy tongue-twisters for the spells.

"Today, we'll be practicing a fire bolt spell. It's a wizard's go-to when they're in a pinch. A good self-defense spell every one of you should know. Many of you already do. You won't be needing a focus or materials for this one, so wands, crystals, and bat shit can go back in your bags." Liza looked over to see a small lizard-like wizard disappointedly stow his sulfur and bat guano. "Let's clear the room. I'd appreciate some backup moving the desks." The students pushed their desks to the sides of the room and spread out.

Professor Garon scanned the room. For a heart-stopping moment, his yellowish-brown eyes locked with Liza's. "Miss Hawken, right?"

Liza nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Do you know the fire bolt spell?"

Liza nodded faster. "Sure! Of course I do!"

"You should get better at lying under pressure."

Liza's feet shifted beneath her. Her hands nervously played with the hem of her blouse. "Well, I should probably mention that the way I do magic is a bit... different."

Garon gave her a smile, somewhere between amusement and reassurance. "Everybody does magic differently. Come on up. You'll be a good example."

Liza's blood ran cold. A fear came from within her that she forgot she had: getting called on by the teacher. She dutifully stepped up to the front of the room, pale as the larger moon.

"A fire bolt is an incredibly simple spell once you know the basics. It's just a hand wave and a word relating to fire. The words can vary. The intention behind them is more important."

"Um, Professor?" Liza said, "What are the basics? I never learned the basics. What do I do?"

"What you do first is calm down. If you keep up this jitter, you won't be able to control your magic, and you'll burn down the classroom. No pressure."

"Okay." Liza took a deep breath and tried to center herself. "What now?"

"Let's try a simple motion. Close your fist and point at whatever you want to burn."

"Okay." In one fluid motion, Liza brought her fistin line with her face and pointed it straight forward.

...

"Nothing happened."

"You didn't say anything," the professor reminded her.

"Oh, right." Liza did the motion again, this time saying "Kaboom! ... Flame on! ... Fire!"

Garon scratched his square chin. "Is there a way you'd rather do this? What's your method?"

Sheepishly, Liza fished around in her pocket for her spare paper and drew a fire rune on a small scrap. She crumpled it into a ball and threw it across the classroom. A little ball of fire struck the floor a few feet away. Garon threw up his eyebrows a bit.

"Runes, eh? That's pretty advanced. Lots of careful memorization that only skilled wizards bother with. You know runes but not simple spells?"

"I learned magic in a weird way."

"Hmm. That might be holding you back. Try the normal way again. Sometimes it helps if you use a different language. Like this." Garon waved his hand, opened his palm, and grumbled "Khostyor!" When he did it, a bolt of yellowish-green fire shot from his meaty yet dextrous hand. "Orcish. Not the prettiest, but it gets the job done. Usually you'd want to use something like Draconic or Elemental, since they're more closely connected with-"

"Lanza!" Liza shouted, "Incendia! Arde! Heck!" Surprisingly, "heck" seemed to have some effect. A mote of flame dribbled off her hand and landed on the floor.

Garon shook his head and stomped out the dying embers. "Thank you for your bravery and honor. We'll come back to you later." Liza dragged her feet to the far end of the room and threw her back against the wall.

"How about you?" Professor Garon pointed to Alusius. "You look ready to rip."

Alusius? Liza's brain raced. She didn't think he was in this class. Now that she thought about it, she never asked him. Not like he would give her an answer, in any case.

Alusius rolled up the sleeves of his baggy robe-tunic as he walked to the front of the classroom. With one arm stretched out in front of him, he said something in another language that sounded smooth, quick, and reserved. A bolt of fire -a fire bolt, if you will- blasted out of his two extended fingers and landed squarely in the center of a partially cremated dartboard. There was a swell of golf claps for Alusius's display.

"Very good!" Garon clapped Alusius on the back a little too hard. "As you just saw, there's more than one way to cast any given spell. Ritual movements help some people focus, but others find it helpful to just let everything out."

Alusius locked eyes with Liza from across the class. With a prideful smirk, he looked down on her.

"Let's get a fellow half-orc up here, shall we?" Garon said, beckoning an orcish student whose arm was in a sling.

Alusius walked back to Liza and hung an elbow on the back of a chair. With that same smug grin on his face, he said: "Keep it up. Even you can pass this class someday."