Control Comes from Within

Lord Shuupert, despite his predilections for alcohol and partying, was a decent teacher. Like clockwork, he would be late and hungover on the first day back after every weekend, and would dash from the classroom as soon as the bell rang marking the start of the weekend, at least for him. And yet, despite all that, he was thorough in disseminating the information he needed to.

In his classes, he covered a variety of topics at a reasonable pace, while also clarifying any questions from students and ensuring that the majority retained that knowledge even after he moved on from a certain topic.

He covered the branches of magic, which were the different elements like fire and water, different spells from each branch, notable figures who made significant contributions to magic, and gave an overview of different professions that consistently used magic, for example enchanters, tamers, and magesmiths.

He also discussed focuses – the tools used by mages to channel their magic more efficiently. The more popular examples included wands, staffs, orbs and gloves. Natural materials such as wood, stone, or sand were manipulated and shaped into a form suitable for the wielder to use by a craftsman. But theoretically, any mage could use anything as their focus as long as it was attuned to them, via a blood magic spell created centuries ago for that express purpose. These tools provided an extra ‘oomph’, as Lord Shuupert put it, to any spells cast with them, giving the user slightly better results than if they had performed the spell freehand.

Then he went on a tangent, ranting that a focus was entirely unnecessary and a crutch to a true mage, as any self-respecting and capable mage didn’t need external tools to channel essence as long as they had a decent conductivity and at least a basic breathing technique, not to mention the hours of practice needed to properly execute spells.

It was rather funny when he immediately course-corrected, citing the syllabus and telling us how to identify compatible focuses and materials that could be used to make one.

But despite everything covered in his class, I never learned anything that answered my questions about why my taming spell produced such abnormal effects, as he didn’t give any in-depth answers and I wasn’t inclined to ask him such specific questions.

I struck out again at the library, as I never found out any useful information. My upcoming apprenticeship with the pro tamers could potentially help, but, again, I didn’t want to take the initiative to ask them flat out, as asking the question itself might be taboo, or have unfortunate consequences for me.

I never got the chance to find out if it would be helpful or not, as I was called into the headmaster’s office two days before the apprenticeship would start.

“They’re dead?!” I screamed. “How is that possible? What happened?!” I threw decorum out the window when I heard the news.

“Sigh, why don’t you take a seat first?” the vice head said, gesturing to an open chair.

The headmaster was preoccupied with other matters, so the vice head acted in his stead in sharing the news with me.

“The authorities have confirmed their deaths, and while you don’t necessarily need to know, I feel you can handle the truth. Although….can I ask that you keep this to yourself? I’d rather not have the entire academy sent into a panic,” the vice head asked me.

I nodded in agreement, which he nodded to in response.

“How far along did Shuupert get in your class?” he asked me.

Frowning, I replied, “How far along? I think he covered everything in the syllabus. The branches of magic, basic spells, focuses, professions. What are you –”

“I’ve read your file. Ah, just so you know, the academy keeps records of all its students’ performances. You seem like a smart lad, if slightly unlucky. If I said they died to bandits, would you believe me?” he posed.

“No, of course not.” I said, almost instantly. “From what I know, bandits only appear in lower tiered regions, and are driven more by desperation and hunger rather than greed. Even if there were bandits in a tier 1 or 2 region, which I highly doubt, they would either be….” I trailed off as I pondered the implications.

Bandits in a tier 1 or 2 region wouldn’t last long. By definition, they were commoners who attacked others for money or food, and typically, such people would never have any combat training. They would either die out to hunger, patrolling squads of knights, or stray beasts. I mean, theoretically, they could also die to a –

No. You’re shitting me.

I lost all control of my face as my expression gradually turned to one of ponderance, and finally disbelief, as I realized the crux of the matter.

“That look on your face tells me you’ve guessed it, or at least part of it. They were originally coming from our parent academy in the east when they were ambushed. As a precaution, the security in the surrounding area is being tightened, and scouts have been sent out to look for the perpetrators,” he said, as if he was reporting the incident to me.

“Did you know that students are allowed to transfer between academies?” he asked me, reverting to a nonchalant tone as he bounced around between various seemingly unrelated topics. I shook my head slowly. “Top students of the branch academies can move to a tier 1 campus, while the bottom students of tier 1 academies can be transferred here or to other tier 2 campuses. It is rare, but it happens every once in a while. There is a certain…risk…in transferring up, which is why we prefer to only let students transfer if we feel they can handle that inherent danger. So tell me. Do you think you can handle it?” he asked me, looking me straight in the eyes.

Voranders. He was referring to those asshole monsters. The gift that kept on goddamned giving.

While I was doing my research on taming in the library, I came across a piece of information that seemed innocuous at the time, but was becoming increasingly relevant.

While the tier of a region denoted its essence density, it correspondingly denoted the danger level. More essence meant more opportunities for growth, in nearly every area. And there was one specific race that took advantage of this fact more than any other. Goddamn monsters.

Tier 1 and tier 2 regions, due to their higher density of essence, were magnets for the monsters. They bred quickly there, more so than in other regions, and as a result of this increase in numbers, they frequently assaulted settlements, killing plenty of people every time.

And among those settlements were the tier 1 academies, hence the vice head’s allusion to danger. Apparently, it was possible for a monster horde to break through the city’s defenses and rampage every so often, which was why the academy awarded points to anyone who helped repel the monster waves, as they were colloquially called.

That’s what they meant by community service.

Anyways, in my research on taming, I found out that multiple people had tried taming voranders both during and after the past monster waves, and it never ended well. Some people went feral, attacking anyone in sight until they were put down. Some just straight up died, blood and grey matter leaking out of their orifices.

But worst of all were those who became possessed. They took on the characteristics of the vorander they attempted to tame and basically became human/vorander hybrids. They either killed themselves in a fit of insanity or actually left with the remnants of the vorander hordes to their breeding grounds, with them never being seen again.

In short, nobody in the history of the world had managed to successfully tame a vorander without any consequences.

Until I came along. Though I could recognize that I was an outlier and not the usual standard. At all.

I was still thinking about it when he asked me, then all of a sudden, his serious demeanor shattered as he started laughing, chuckling and shaking his head in amusement.

“Oh, never mind, never mind. Put it aside for now, boy. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I just couldn’t help myself. Well, we can discuss the transfer issue later,” he said, brushing it aside. “Regarding your reward, the headmaster has authorized one of two options for you. You may either receive an additional 150 points, or a collection of tomes regarding taming, all penned by researchers and various experts in the subject. You should know that most of their contents will be covered in the following years’ curriculum, should you choose the corresponding elective class,” he said.

I actually did know that. Starting from the second year, instead of the core classes, students could choose elective classes of their choice. I had already decided to pick the classes for my affinities, blood and nature magic, as well as taming and healing. I wasn’t planning on being a doctor, but knowing some first aid, or this world’s equivalent, was a good idea.

“I’ll take the points, then.” I said to the vice headmaster.

“You should have them by the end of the day. That’ll be all. Dismissed.”

I got up from my seat, nodded respectfully at him, then went back to my room to figure out my plans for the winter break.