Short Stories by Crystal Scherer

Teaching a Magus a New Trick

Teaching a Magus a New Trick

This was a request from one of my first editors, for me to make something about a magic wielder in a hard magic system learning about soft magic. Here you go, Misain.

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I slowly paced back and forth in the lecture hall as the students listened attentively or took notes. "—In some ways, magic is like a chemical reaction, notably in that you can only get out what you put in. You can't create a flower out of a brick. Another analogy is that magic is like heat in an oven. By itself, it doesn't do much, but if you put bread dough in, you'll end up with bread. And much like in cooking and chemistry, you must be very meticulous and specific, or you'll end up with something you never wish to repeat again. Your ability to—"

The words continued rolling off my tongue. After so many years, I knew them by heart. As per my recommendation, many students had brought their cell phones. The devices were useful for recording my words, but they were clearly in their first few classes or they would have known that cell phones couldn't record the energy they had the rare ability to see.

Just because I provided all the tools didn't mean I was going to give them every detail upfront. They'd learn that shortly. They'd have to learn to think ahead and prepare for possible unanticipated events once they started wielding their own magics.

Presuming they got that far. Just because someone had natural talent and ability, that didn't mean they had the brains to go with it.

This class was designed to weed out the ones who wouldn't survive. There was fierce competition to get into this classroom—I was the only Prime Magus willing to teach students in their first three years—but I also knew that half of the snot-nosed brats in this class had rich parents who had bribed their way in.

Money didn't equal brains either.

My robes flowed to a gentle stop as I finished reciting the hour-long lecture. My eyes scanned the mixed group of teenagers and young adults as I asked, "What is magic good for?"

Had this been one of my senior classes, the clever ones would have asked why I thought the question was important. Instead, I got standard responses.

"Healing."

"Building."

"Repairing things."

A woman in the back raised her voice, "If magic is closer to transmutation than alchemy or fantasy magic, is there anything it can't be used for if one can understand the methods?"

I raised an eyebrow. Someone asking a question in response to a question on their first day? This was rather promising.

"Excellent point," I replied. "Even though some nimrod decided to call it magic—why the name stuck is beyond me—it is truly a transmutation force. We use precise calculations and it follows a set of strict rules. We have fifteen minutes left. Does anyone have any questions regarding what we've discussed so far?"

The same woman raised a hand, and at my nod, she asked, "If I can go back to your oven analogy, where does the energy come from? In a real oven, we use electricity to heat it, but when a Magus turns a pile of bricks and wires into a building, that's a lot of energy. None of the theories online gave a solid answer."

Ah, she was sharp. I was already looking forward to the extended debates in several years when she was a senior.

"Maguses amplify their strength with special crystals. Ever wonder why we order building supplies to be doused in water and never work on the coldest days? Heat is energy. We use the heat around us as initial fuel, then use it to split the water atoms like a hydrogen power plant, creating vast amounts of energy to power our workings. But"—I paused to give every student in the room a glare—"it also uses your strength. Burnout will be your greatest enemy. It's why you have classes on pacing yourself and mental welfare every week."