Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Day Eighteen



Dear Diary,

Back at Eastside I had a lot of people look down on me when they figured out my family originated in PR, I had an entirely different group do so when they realized I'd only visited PR once on vacation, and still more diss me because I hailed from Camden. But I never had anyone tell me with a straight face that I was a literal demon straight from hell.

Okay, so my Thursday class is Basic Heroic Skills. I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I certainly didn't expect to see Marshall duBois sitting behind a desk when I entered the classroom. I exchanged subtle glances with the other ROTC kids and each of them shrugged like they had no idea either.

I really shouldn't have expected duBois to miss that, especially with just the four of us in the classroom. I hoped we weren't the only four in the class, but I had no way to know; we'd already made showing up early a habit. At any rate, he said, "Yes, I'm capable of teaching in an academic setting as well as the Practice Yard."

Not only didn't he shout, he didn't sound nearly as angry nasty as he did in the Yard. "Never doubted it for a minute, sir."

That actually got a laugh out of him. "The instructors rotate through this class; you'll probably have a different one every week. There are a few reasons for that, but the biggest one is that it's hard to teach a Skill you don't have, and it can be downright impossible to teach a Skill you have no equivalent for."

We found seats, unconsciously copying the formation we'd adopted for the Yard; just to the left of center, with Bill in front, Saffron behind, me third, and Angel in the rear. We weren't quite in order of height, but Bill and I tended to slouch, whereas Angel sat ramrod straight in her seat. While duBois spoke, other students trickled into the room.

"What's a skill?" I asked.

"That's an excellent question, but unfortunately I'm not going to answer it right now, because we're about," he glanced at his wrist, "three minutes early to start class, and that's the first thing we'll be going over."

About then Larry and his sidekicks slouched into the room. He took one look around, saw the four of us, and sniffed like he'd just smelled an apocalyptic fart. "I shouldn't even be in this class. I've had the best tutors in the city ensuring the best training in both Skills and Magic. Jumped up Bag cretins in the classroom." He muttered that last, intending it for my friends and I, especially that last bit, but the moron still hadn't caught on that duBois heard everything that went on in his proximity.

"Lancaster, I'm sure your daddy paid for the best tutors he could find, but if your other tutors were as insufficient as the one who taught you proper manners, he wasted every dime." He looked around the room before continuing. "Before we get started, I think you all need a bit of real world education on something. Everybody in the class who is a pure blooded human raise your hand." He raised his own, and I started to raise mine instinctively before I caught myself. Saffron's hand went up, Bill's stayed down. I glanced left and right, maybe one kid in three had their hands raised.

"Okay, hands down. Anybody who is pure Bag raise your hand." This time the only Cadet to raise their hand was Bill. "Really, Driver?"

Bill shrugged. "That's what mom told me. Mom and dad both look Bag."

"This new class is just full of surprises. Sister Cheryl won't let me hear the end of this any time soon. Anyhow, how many here are full Dan?"

Unsurprisingly, all three of the Barbie Brigade raised their hands. One other kid sitting behind them did as well.

"Okay, first lesson. You four are wrong." He waited and watched while Larry and his posse all spluttered denials. The moment one of them opened their mouth with some kind of coherent look in their eyes, he interrupted. "The original Dan, all of them, were Gods, or something so similar the difference is literally academic. None of them had offspring who weren't Gods themselves, but more than one of them took mortal lovers and spawned the first half-Dan. That means each and every one of you have at least one human ancestor. Probably more than one. Yes, Rider?"

Rider lowered her hand, "What about the Sidhe, or other supernatural races?"

DuBois pursed his lips and nodded a that. "Good question. Not the right class for it, but the lifers here at Phileo Heroic tell me I need to watch out for 'teachable moments'. You're right, there are other supernatural humanoid races who can cross-breed with humans as well as the Dan did. Some of them are even known for doing it habitually." He paused a moment, as if for breath, but I just barely caught him whisper, "Fuckin' Zeus," under his breath.

"Thing is, any pureblooded Dan, like any children of any two of any pantheon, are more or less Gods, like I said." He raked his gaze across the class as he said, "Since none of you are Gods, none of you are descended purely from immortals." He paused, waiting for that to sink in.

To her credit, Rider just nodded. Rosen looked aghast, and Lancaster just spluttered more.

DuBois glanced at his wrist again before he spoke, "It's time for us to get started. This is Basic Heroic Skills; if you're supposed to be in a different class, get yourself to wherever you're supposed to be. If you're auditing or want to be added to the class, speak to me at lunch and we'll see what we can do."

He looked around the room, but nobody looked ready to leave. "Good. Now, as Cadet Diaz asked the question a few minutes ago, I'll start with what a Skill is and isn't." He paused with a stifled longsuffering sigh. "Yes, Lancaster?"

"I know this already. Can't we skip ahead?"

"I know this may come as a shock to you, Lancaster, but there are people other than you in this class. If you already know something, count that as an easy passing grade and keep your mouth shut. That goes for the rest of you as well." He raked his gaze across the class, and the kid next to Bill flinched.

"Okay, then. A Skill is something you've learned to do so well that it has become an almost subconscious activity. You don't have to think about doing it, all you need do is will it to happen. In some cases, you don't even need to do that. For example, most healing Skills will function even if the healer is unconscious. Yes, Cadet Aetos?"

"Wouldn't that make a healer capable of reviving the recently deceased functionally immortal?"

DuBois nodded, "You'd think, but no. A healer that good will generally recover from anything but an immediately fatal wound, assuming their injuries do not interfere with their Mana flow. That in fact is the specific reason immediately fatal wounds prevent a healer from healing themselves; healers define death as the cessation of Mana flow. No Mana, no healing, no healing, no revival. Make sense?"

Saffron nodded before saying, "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Now Skills are not, in and of themselves, Magic. While we'll be studying some Skills that employ Magic in this class, and practicing others which require some degree of Magical aptitude and training to learn, this will not be where you study Magic itself."

I raised my hand, and when he acknowledged me asked, "Is that trick you pull off to get from the Dining Hall to the Practice Yard Magic, or a Skill?"

He laughed, "You caught on to that, did you?" At my nod he continued, "That's an example of a Skill based on a Magical Spell, and it's one of the ones I strongly recommend Cadets learn during their time with us. It isn't mandatory for graduation, like the Skills you'll be learning in this class. It's just damn handy to have, especially when chasing down a criminal or running away from a rampaging beast."

"I can't see you running away from anything, sir."

He shot me a lopsided, rueful grin, "I haven't run from much in my career, but sometimes there's nothing you can do to help, and the best thing you can do is get out of the way."

I couldn't help it, the comment spilled out before I could stop myself, "Ain't that the truth."

Luckily that did nothing but pull another laugh from duBois before he continued. "Over the course of this class, you'll learn a variety of Skills. As this is a classroom setting, those obviously won't be directly combat related skills, although some of them are indispensable in a fight or on a battlefield."

He paused again, making sure none of us had any questions, then continued. "The first pair of Skills, like quite a few others in this course, are near identical Skills with the primary difference being targeting. Status, which gives you an objective measurement of your own condition and Skills, and Inspect, which does the same except you target it on someone else. Before we go any further, I'm going to make one thing very clear; you will be learning skills here at Phileo Heroic that are flat out illegal to use without the consent of your target or extenuating circumstances. Inspect is the first of those. Because someone always asks, Inspect can be used on a criminal you've witnessed committing a crime, or on non-sapient beings. Anything beyond that you'll be explaining yourself to a tribunal, and you do not want that. Are we clear?"

Led by us four ROTCs, the class chorused, "Yes, sir!"

"Good. Now, let's get started on Status. Now, I'm going to teach you the traditional Phileo Heroic version of Status; I'm aware some of you may have learned other versions, but if this one was good enough for Socrates, it's good enough for me, and by extension you." He paused, closed his eyes and sighed, "Yes, Lancaster?"

"Who doesn't know Status? I've been using that since I was five years old!"

DuBois nodded. "That's a fair point, although as usual you're too full of yourself to realize when you're wrong. Status is one of the few effects that is a Spell, a Skill based on that Spell, and a globally available Spell effect. I strongly suspect that's what you've been using, since the only Skills a Juvenile can use are inherent Racial ones, and precious few races have Status as a racial skill. None that I know of living here in Phileo City, and I take careful note of folks who can use the Status Skill, since those folks can also generally use the Inspect skill as well, and as I just noted that Skill has more illegal uses than legal ones. Cadet Driver?"

"Where do globally available Spell effects come from?"

"Good question, although it's one I can't answer specifically in all cases. In every case we have records of, globally available Spell effects are the result of an Archmage binding a spell to the Ley Line network of the world. Some of them aren't truly global, either, although Status is, to the best of my knowledge, one of those."

He paused again to scan for raised hands before continuing. "Now, I'm going to show you all the simplest, easiest to implement version of the Status Spell. I'll be using gestures to shape the Mana, but pay more attention to the Mana than you do to my hands."

He lifted one hand in front of him, fingers curled into a fist. He touched the top of that hand with the other hand's index finger, drew it up a bit, then around in a circle three times, then back to his fist. "Did you all see how the mana binds itself together into first a circle, then a lens?"

I hadn't seen anything except him moving his hands, so I raised my hand, and when he nodded toward me, told him as much.

"Are you in Remedial Mana Shaping?"

I replied, "Yes, sir," just as Lancaster stage whispered, "Of course she is."

"You sure those were tutors your daddy hired, Lancaster? Or were they just babysitters and he was too nice to tell you?" Points to Bill for Best Witty Comeback of the Day. DuBois lost any reply he would have made to holding in his own laughter, and Lancaster just spluttered more.

"I really couldn't see anything but your hands moving, sir. I seemed to get the hang of Mana projection during this week's class though, so maybe I could project the mana to my hands and mimic your hand movements?"

I'd never actually seen duBois get pissed before. Saffron actually half turned to face me and mouth 'what the fuck?' before duBois said, in a carefully controlled voice, "What did you just say, Cadet Diaz?"

Not knowing what I'd done wrong, I said, "I could mimic what..."

DuBois interrupted me, "I'm normally not one to get upset by vulgarity or profanity, Diaz, but you're pushing it. I suggest you don't push it any further."

I'm the first one to not make waves, but I had to know what I'd done wrong to avoid doing it again. "I don't understand, sir?"

He stared at me, almost like he was staring through me, then took a deep breath to calm himself. "I don't know where you're from, and frankly I don't care. That particular verb isn't one I'll have said in my class."

"Why?"

He blinked, then scanned the class. "How many of you know the origin of that word?" About half of the class raised their hands, although some of them were a little tentative about it.

"Okay then. It's story time with Professor duBois then. Before I start, if any of you repeat this to any of the Sisters, I'm not only going to deny everything, I'm going to make you wish your momma and daddy had never met, got it?"

The chorus of "Yes, sir!" came a lot clearer this time.

"So, the short version. When the Dan met the Mor at Mag Tured, the Mor brought a great chest with them. The chest wasn't just wood; it was magical wood from the lowest branches of Yggdrasil, bound together with Cold Iron, with great heavy Cold Iron chains wrapped around it and held in place by Bres. Balor of the Mor," without pausing his recitation, duBois curled one hand into a fist with his thumb tucked inside his index finger and waved it back and forth, "called upon the Dan to surrender, lest Bres release the chains and kill them all. When Lug asked Balor," again with the thumb thing, "what was in the box, Balor replied with a single word," here duBois did pause, looking around like a teacher about to say the N word, "Mimic."

A few kids gasped as if stunned that a teacher would say such a thing. I nodded and tried to look appropriately contrite. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know. Won't happen again, sir."

He stared at me again, but I kept up the façade until he shrugged and said, "Better not, Diaz. I'll have my eye on you."

"I understand, sir. About the Status thing, can I just copy what you do with your hands?"

He stopped and thought for a moment, "Might work, might not. I don't teach any of the classes on Magic, because while I know how to do the stuff I know, I don't know how all of it works, just that it does. Tell you what, for today you can try it, and I'll let your Mana teacher know you need to learn that before next week."

"Yes, sir!"

What followed was nearly a day of everybody else doing something I couldn't even see. By the end of the day, they were all trying to figure out how to turn Status into Inspect, even though duBois kept growling at them to practice Status until they didn't have to think about it any more.

I swear, this was worse than Trig. Not by much, but still.


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