It gave a little trill of acknowledgement, then its wings buzzed into life, blurring as they lifted it into the air. It flew to a stuffed animal head hanging above Tyen’s door–a gift from a former student–and settled behind the stumpy horns.
“Good Beetle,” he said. Its wings vibrated in response–one of many little refinements he’d made since leaving his world. People who found the insectoid a little frightening were reassured if it behaved like a well-trained pet. It would also dip its head in apparent shame when scolded, could replicate a pattern of knocks or taps with buzzes, and whistle a few simple melodies.
Leaving his room, Tyen found the corridors were mostly empty. The few teachers still about nodded politely as he passed. Though he had been a colleague for less than a cycle, he had brought to the school knowledge of technology more advanced than any they had seen before. He’d paid his way as a student by developing and teaching lessons on mechanical magic in classes that often included other teachers among the students. Graduated sorcerers, hearing of the new form of magic, returned to the school to learn how to use it, and he now had a list of people waiting for a space in a class.
In return Tyen had gained a thorough training in all other forms of magic. Though he’d learned the basic principles at the Academy–that everything was a variation of stilling and moving–he’d only ever learned the sorts of applications that were possible in a world poor in magic. In worlds rich in magic, which seemed to be most other worlds, so much more was possible.
It had taken some time for him to stop taking and using too much magic for a task. Fighting was certainly different when Soot, the empty space left when magic was removed from a world, disappeared so quickly as magic rushed in to replace it. For an area empty of magic to be a concern in a fight the battle would have to be immense. None of the Liftre teachers allowed any combat on that scale, mostly because it was rude to deplete worlds of magic, but also because the greater the amount of magic used, the more damage done when mistakes were made. They believed fighting at a smaller scale taught students all the skills they needed anyway. Tyen suspected they were wrong, but for him to be proven correct would take a great catastrophe, and he’d hardly wish that on anyone.
Descending the stairs, he joined the last straggling teachers hurrying towards the dining room. It was a large room with several tables arranged in a square. As Tyen entered, a man with short white hair looked up, smiled and beckoned, pointing at the empty seat beside him.
“Tarren,” Tyen said as he joined his old friend. “Eating with the rabble again?”
“I may as well, what with all the interruptions I’ve had today,” Tarren grumbled. “How did the Tournament go?”
“Good. Dalle, the sister of last cycle’s victor, won with an interesting design.”
The old man smiled. He tilted his head to the side as he regarded Tyen. “It was good of you to stay and teach here, when you could have left to pursue your own interests. Not many of Liftre’s former pupils are so loyal.”
Tyen shrugged. His decision to stay had nothing to do with loyalty. Not that he did not admire the school and approve of its philosophy of teaching anyone who sought training, but he did not feel the unquestioning bond for this place he’d had for the Academy. Professor Kilraker, by setting Tyen up as a thief and ultimately killing thousands when Spirecastle fell due to his selfishness and stupidity, had taught Tyen that teachers and educational institutions could as easily turn on you as not. Though Liftre was a wonderful place, he was more realistic in his expectations when it came to its self-preservation, or his.
I stay because this place is the best source of knowledge about magic that exists, as far as I’ve been told. It is the place where I am most likely to find a way to make Vella whole again. A familiar mild guilt arose as he recalled the promise he’d made to restore her, neglected for too long. The demand for lessons on mechanical magic had prevented him from seeking a way to restore her to human form. Once I find someone to help or take over the teaching I will have time for it, he told himself, as he had many times before.
Tarren had offered to help seek a cure for Vella. Of all the people in Liftre, only the old man knew about her. Tyen had let Tarren examine her not long after his graduation, ready to take her back and flee if he saw any thought of stealing her in the old man’s mind, whether for his benefit or the school’s. It was a risk worth taking so that Vella would absorb all of Tarren’s considerable knowledge.
Rojiahna, one of the servers, came to list what was on the menu for the evening. Tyen selected a dish and a glass of wine, then was drawn into a conversation about the Tournament with the teacher sitting on his other side.
“I’m looking forward to seeing what their younger brother can do when he joins Liftre,” Tyen finished.
The teacher hesitated before nodding in agreement. “Let’s hope he gets the chance.”