Shadowcast

A Week Later: Part 1

"Good afternoon, class," said the Transmutation professor, tossing a mop of stark white hair from one side of their stark white head to the other, "A lot of you already know this spell, but it's on the syllabus, so we have to cover it." They produced a small length of copper wire and pointed it out into the assembled student body. The creepy necromancer girl with the skeleton hand shot up out of her desk chair, which had been turned to granite in a previous transmutation class. "A simple way to send a silent message to someone of your choosing. I have the notes for how to do it up on the board. Copy it down in your books, scrolls, tarot cards, whatever. Then practice on your friends. If you need help, raise a hand and I'll be right over."

Liza's eyes darted between her notebook and the words and symbols on the chalkboard. Which shimmered and changed color as the professor ran their hand along them. The spell seemed pretty simple. Just focus on the recipient of the message -Liza would use her wand because she was too weak to do magic like everyone else- speak a phrase to begin the message, think the message in your mind, and wait for their response. Once she thought she had the specifics, she set down her pencil and turned to her left, where Wren doodled little flowers in the margins of his book.

"Ring ring," she whispered, aiming the pointy end of her wand at Wren's temple. Phoning Wrenaldo. Anybody home? You can reply to this message.

Liza waited a second. Wren's voice didn't magically materialize in her head, nor did he seem to notice her.

"Wren, did you get it?"

"Get what?"

"Oh."

Wren put down his pen and cracked his knuckles. "Do you need help? I've been doing this since I was eight years old."

Liza nodded.

"Is Liza your real name?"

Liza's blood froze in her veins.

"Yeah. Why?"

"The spell won't work if I use something like 'Lisa' or 'Savi' or 'cutie.' It has to be your name."

"Liza's my name," Liza said through gritted teeth, "Aliza if you need to get more specific."

Wren cupped his hands together like he was going to make a bird call. The cheap gems on his rings flared with light, and under his breath, Liza just barely heard him whisper: "Sending to Liza." Then, in her mind, she heard:

"This spell is perfect for talking past curfew. Especially when someone else knows it."

Hmm. Interesting.

"This is so cool! We can just talk in our heads!"

Liza pointed her wand at Wren and whispered: "Calling Wren."

"Does it work this time, over?"

"Over what?"

"You know, how the grenadier guys in the books say 'over' when they end a message, over?"

"I don't follow."

"..."

"Over."

"Loverboy Actual, this is Drifter One, how copy, over?"

"You're weird, you know that?"

"I do."

The professor took a break from pointing their little piece of wire around the classroom and intruding on random students' conversations and stood straight upright. They unbuttoned their tweed vest as their skin turned green and their muscles grew more defined. In the blink of an eye, the changeling had the form of a brawny orc, suspiciously similar to the orcish student who sat at the back of the class, still nursing her wound from the entrance exam.

"I'll warn you only once," said the professor, their new voice projecting through the whole classroom, "Do not use this spell to chat while I'm giving lectures!"

"We're totally doing that," Liza told Wren.

"Absolutely."