Jake stood at attention, jutting his chin in defiance at the barrage of complaints from his Apotheturgy instructor. The headmaster’s office felt cramped, filled as it was by her large antique desk and the angry teacher growling beside him.
“Professor Darga. I will not allow that language when talking about a student!” Headmaster Corbin admonished, the blue scale-like skin of her face twisting into a frown as her ear fins fluttered with well-contained anger. Jake could see why the old myths claimed dracoling had descended from dragons, even though his former schooling had proven them a close relative to humans.
“He shouldn’t even be a student,” the professor snarled, bristling at the reproach. If he’d been anyone else, the katanoj’s luxuriously fluffy fur, accented by thick orange stripes and a smattering of cream across his face and hands, would have appeared cuddly and potentially even adorable. As it was, it only accented the feline’s unjustified vitriol.
Jake slowly clenched and unclenched his hands by his sides, fighting his urge to interrupt. Don’t get defensive. Stick to the facts. Be the calm one. He repeated the mantras in his mind, drilled in over the last two years by the man he called father, and willed himself to relax.
“We’re different,” his adoptive father had explained. “People are afraid of those who are different. So we have to do better, be better. Or they’ll be afraid of us.”
“I don’t want to be different,” he’d protest. “You’re the different one. I’m just a normal kid.”
The necromancer had always grown quiet at that, his scowl deeper than usual. But he’d always given the same answer. “You’re my responsibility now. That means I’ll always be here to protect you. It also means that who I am will change people’s opinions of you… I’m sorry. We’ve survived things most people don’t want to think about. We know things most people ignore. That makes us different, and scary… and dangerous.”
Jake usually took the opportunity to voice more frustrations then, and the necromancer let him, absorbing the verbal abuse as if it would absolve him of some even greater crime. Sometimes Jake wished he could take back the harsh words, and the pain he always saw in his adoptive father’s eyes during those conversations. Other times he just wished he could stop adding to it.
“And what do you have to say for yourself, young man?”
Jake tensed at the words, blinking slowly as he extracted himself from his memories to address the present. All eyes are on you: Make it count. Don’t get defensive. Stick to the facts. Be the calm one. While he felt certain the necromancer would simply relocate them if he got kicked out of school, he doubted his mother would be so forgiving.
He stiffly addressed Headmaster Corbin. “With all due respect, ma’am, I followed the rules of the assignment as written and presented to us in class.”
“Lies,” Professor Darga sneered, baring his canines. “He made a mockery of the assignment!”
“You’ve had your turn to speak without interruption,” the headmaster admonished, waving her finger in a motion for silence. “I want to hear from him.”
She turned back to Jake with an encouraging smile. “Go on, child.”
“We had to take a spell we know, and write instructions so someone could dual cast with us,” Jake recited from memory. “Our partner couldn’t use the spell, but we could use components. No Telepathy.”
“There, you see!” The apotheturgist crossed his furred arms triumphantly, claws fully exposed. “He knew the rules and disregarded them!”
Jake shook his head, sliding a small slip of paper across the desk for the headmaster’s inspection. “My instructions.” He held up a standard tyrellium data crystal. “And my component.”
“Start the dual casting link, then direct your Imperium into the crystal to power the spell,” the headmaster read. She eyed the crystal curiously before folding her hands in front of her and rotating her ear fins to provide Jake her full attention. “What does it do?”
“It’s a Shieldbreaker spell,” Jake explained proudly. “I used Runework to weave several Shielding counters into a single spell, then programmed it into the crystal. Shieldbreaking takes a lot of power, so I found a way to temporarily disrupt a single point. It won’t last long, but it takes less power, and if someone’s actively channeling the Shield, they might not notice.”
The headmaster’s green eyes sparkled as she accepted the crystal. “This is a complex spell. Why pick this for the assignment?”
Jake shifted his weight. “The assignment said to cast something our partner didn’t know. Every spell I picked, Veris said he knew it. So I invented a new one.”
“And that’s the other thing!” His teacher broke into the conversation again, his long striped tail now waving in sudden, agitated motions that periodically impacted with Jake’s leg and the surrounding furniture within the tight office. “This spell is too advanced for a twelve-year-old. He completely avoided the assignment by having his father do the work for him!”
Jake coolly turned his head to address his teacher, impassive green eyes meeting and holding Professor Darga’s angrier copper. “My father can’t do this. I learned spell fusion at my old school.”
“Ah, yes. A Legion education, wasn’t it?” the headmaster asked.
Even as he gave a silent nod, Jake smiled inwardly at the glare she directed toward the apotheturgist.
“Well,” Headmaster Corbin said, gracefully rising from behind her desk as she addressed the professor. “I fail to see the problem with this young man’s assignment. I’m afraid I have to dismiss your complaint.”
“And what about my accusation of cheating?”
Jake forced himself to shrug, burying the molten anger deep within. “You can ask my father.”
“N-no, that’s okay.” Jake watched in smug satisfaction as the katanoj backed away at the suggestion. “I-I’m sure it’s fine.”
Returning his attention back to the headmaster, Jake noted an almost imperceptible amusement at his exchange with his professor. “Can I go now?”
“No,” she answered thoughtfully. “I have some things to discuss with you.” She directed a glare at his teacher. “Alone.”
She waited until the door slammed shut, leaving them alone in the office, before turning her attention back to him. “Talk to me. How are you feeling?”
“Angry,” Jake admitted, twisting his hands together in frustration. He was proud he’d managed to keep his voice level during the earlier discussion, but now that the professor was gone it threatened to break. “Veris and his friends always pick on me, and Professor Darga always pairs me with them for group projects. He’s trying to make me fail.”
He looked at her pleadingly. “You said you could help. I don’t want to go back to his class.”
She nodded once in agreement, frowning. “I’m sorry you’re feeling challenged by those around you, instead of your classes. You should have come to me first, rather than attempting to handle it yourself. I’d have had more options.”
Shoulders slumping, Jake nodded. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“You’re quite fortunate Professor Jeb has already been advocating on your behalf. It’s not often we find students with your particular talents. We were able to work out an arrangement with the head office, provided your father agrees.” She fixed him with a pointed stare. “Of course, you’ll also need to stay out of trouble. Do you think you can manage that?”
Shuffling his feet, Jake risked a glance at Headmaster Corbin. “I’ll do my best, ma’am,” he answered honestly. “I don’t want to cause trouble. People just don’t like that I’m different.”
“That’s a growth opportunity for everyone,” she told him kindly. “It’s our differences that make us stronger. Someday they’ll realize this.” Retrieving a paper from one of her drawers, she passed it to him with a faint smile. “We’d like to transfer you to classes more suited for your talents. Does this sound of interest to you?”
Accepting the paper curiously, Jake read it with care, a smile widening across his face with every paragraph. He was grinning ear to ear by the time he returned the page to her desk. “Yes, please, ma’am!”
“You can keep that,” she told him, sliding the paper in his direction. She plucked the Shieldbreaker crystal from her desk when he reached for that too, holding it up to the light. “This, though, I’ll need to confiscate. No weapons permitted on school grounds, and by your description, this counts.”
Jake felt panic rising, his smile vanishing as his eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to break any rules, only pass the class. And she’d just warned him of the elevated consequences of any further mistakes. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to–”
“I won’t count it against you,” she reassured. “This time. But maybe run your next few school projects through me, just to be safe.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She slipped the crystal into a drawer, her attention still focused on him. “Since it would be a waste of both your time and mental health to return to your currently scheduled class, and we still need parental approval for your new schedule, I’m granting you the remainder of this period as a free period. Do you have somewhere useful you can go?”
Jake grinned. “I’d like to help Razick. In the labs. Ma’am.”
Razick was a friend. Words were rarely necessary around the Antimagic mage, which was fortunate, as she didn’t like to talk often. Her stern demeanor frightened his classmates but he’d found it a welcome sense of safety, a shield that also extended to protect him in her presence, much like his adoptive father’s own gruff exterior.
“A wise choice,” the headmaster acknowledged. “Approved. In fact…” She paused to check something on her data screen. “You can spend your next class with her, too. Her package arrived today. I’m sure she’d be happy for your help.”
“Thank you, ma’am!”
His mind charged ahead with possibilities. Razick had been waiting on that shipment for months. Now that it was finally here, Jake wouldn’t have to wait any longer either; he’d get to see her next set of experiments in action. Maybe he’d even be able to help in a more formal role, once his adoptive father officially approved his new classes.
As soon as Headmaster Corbin dismissed him, Jake bounded from her office with exuberance. Now that things had finally begun to turn around, the day could only get better.
I love Jake and I'm curious as hell about Shane's past
Love to code, but this one is driving me crazy!
My world Shattered won as the "Most ground-breaking premise new world"!
Can't wait to 17 november
Love to code, but this one is driving me crazy!
My world Shattered won as the "Most ground-breaking premise new world"!
Me, too! I can't wait, although I am forcing myself to. I love these characters so much.
Necromancy is a Wholesome Science.