When I could see again, we were in a cube-shaped room with what looked like transparent walls.
As I bent toward the floor to retch, I realized that even the ground was transparent.
All around the room was blackness.
A single floating torch flame illuminated the area.
“What... is this place?” I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the brightness of the flame.
“A safe locale. We can speak freely here.”
A transparent chair appeared directly behind her, and she sat down in it, looking nonchalant.
A magical construct? Is she a Shaper, then?
That last spell seemed like a Summoner spell, though. She referred to a pact; maybe this is part of the bound creature’s power.
She also used illusions of some kind last night.
So, at least two attunements. Maybe three or more.
I’m way out of my striking range here. Again.
I straightened, rubbing my temples to try — unsuccessfully — to clear some of the nausea.
“Ugh. All right. Let’s talk.”
“Good.” Professor Orden steepled her fingers. “First, I should be clear that I do not intend to do you any harm while you’re here. That doesn’t mean you should lower your guard, of course.”
“Right.” My eyes searched from side to side again, but I couldn’t see any signs of traps. Or much of anything else. The walls didn’t seem to have any runes on them. “I take it that ambush was some sort of test to see if I was following your instructions?”
She nodded. “And your general ability to protect yourself, as well as your creativity under pressure. I anticipated most of your tactics, but not firing into the ceiling. That was... inspired.”
Yeah. Inspired. That was a nice way to put it.
In reality, I was lucky I hadn’t accidentally hit Jin when I’d fired the shot. Still, I put on a confident smirk. “Unconventional, but it worked. Still, stabbing me with a knife was a bit extreme for a test, wasn’t it?”
“What, this?” She rolled her right wrist. The curved knife appeared. I tensed, but she laughed, making a gesture again. “You were quite nearly undone by this...” the dagger vanished, replaced by another object of similar size, “Carrot.”
I coughed. “Seriously? A carrot?”
“I can make illusions, darling. It was necessary to make you feel threatened to elicit a reaction. I wasn’t about to put you in any actual danger.”
I frowned at that. “But I could have hurt you.”
Professor Orden chuckled. “How adorable,” she mused afterward, shaking her head. “Did you notice what happened when you fired your cane at me?”
I nodded. “Some type of protective spell.”
“Good, you were paying at least some degree of attention. There’s a common misconception that Enchanters can’t be effective combatants. The people who perpetuate that misconception are rarely aware of what an Emerald-level enchantment can do.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “Emerald-level?”
“Ah, you haven’t been briefed on attunement levels yet? I shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose it is only your first week.” She pointed a finger at my forehead. “At the moment, you’re what we’d call a Quartz Mage, or just Quartz for short. It’s the lowest level of attuned, and virtually all students begin there. One of the goals of the university is to increase your mana to the extent that you reach the next level, Carnelian Mage, by the time you graduate.”
I nodded. “Is that the reason why some marks of the same attunement look different than others?”
“Precisely. When you reach the next attunement level, your mark will visually change. Before you ask, it isn’t painful. Some people experience a brief feeling of disorientation, and people looking at you will see you glow the color corresponding to the new attunement level, but that’s it. The transitions into higher levels are more impressive, but they’re rare enough events that you’re unlikely to ever see one, let alone experience it.”
That made sense. “How many levels are there?”
“Above Carnelian, you have Sunstone, then Citrine. That’s the highest you’re ever going to see under normal circumstances. Even then, Citrine Mages are extremely rare. Above them, you have Emerald Mages, perhaps a handful of which exist in the world. Finally, Sapphire Mages. A hypothetical title. Some speculate that one or two might have existed in history.”
“Those names seem sort of... arbitrary.” I tried not to sound petulant.
Orden raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “There’s a form of logic to it. They represent the color of the aura of mages of that attunement, and those colors follow the same order as colors appear on a rainbow. Thus, a Carnelian Mage has a red aura and so on.” She paused for a moment. “Sunstones aren’t always orange, so that one’s a little easier to confuse, but the rest tend to be easy to remember by color.”
I scratched my chin, trying to process all that. “Right. And you’re an Emerald Enchanter?”
She huffed a small laugh. “Goddess, no. I’m only Carnelian-level as an Enchanter, and barely C-ranked within it... meaning toward the middle of my progression to the next attunement. I had this made as a favor by an old friend, who is a Citrine Enchanter. It’s possible to learn a few spells that are above your attunement level — in his case, he knows at least two Emerald-level spells.”
Orden took a breath. “A person’s attunement level represents their overall capabilities. Casting something above your level is possible, but potentially dangerous. Miss Shard, for example, is still Quartz, but she cast a Carnelian-level spell during your little conflict with Teft.”