Chương 42: Book 3 Chapter 2: The Son of Heaven

There was something inherently traumatic about finding out that not only was there a calamity coming to destroy the kingdom from the east, but also a godless abomination of a magic coming to consume it from the west. After having finished their initial conversation neither Jim nor Katniss truly knew what else to say to each other, or quite frankly even what to do about anything that they'd learned.

Instead of interacting they simply made their way to the dorms, avoiding conversation with everyone else and with each other as they contemplated. One small thing that made Jim happy at least was that he now wouldn't have to start every loop by going to the bank to refill his coin pouch. It was as the unlikely duo reached the part where the road split in two, one leading to the male dormitories while another led to the female ones, that Jim turned to Katniss, extending a hand with a few golden coins in it.

"Take this and buy some better clothes, maybe visit a hairdresser," he told her awkwardly as she looked incomprehensibly at his outstretched hand. Eventually she took the money and stored it away in her cloak.

"That's somewhat uncharacteristic of you," the girl pointed out. Jim frowned. He'd always been a very charitable person.

"I usually spend a lot of money," he told her somewhat pompously.

"I drive the economy by providing jobs to wineries, tavern wenches and, -uh, normal wenches." A pained look crossed across Katniss' face.

"Please," she said imploringly.

"Say less." Jim narrowed his eyes and harrumpheed.

"What would you have done with the money had you managed to steal it anyway?" he asked, suddenly getting the urge to take the coins back.

"Well, I don't know," Katniss muttered.

"It's not like I got to that. Most likely, I would have paid for private tutoring from a second or third year."

"That's it?" Jim asked, somewhat disappointed by the banality of the answer. He shook his head.

"Learn to live a little, will you? Maybe you wouldn't be so gloomy all the time," he advised her. Katniss glared at him, before her gaze softened.

"I'm really sorry for what happened," she said, before turning away to leave. This left Jim standing alone on the cobbled street as the sun slowly started dipping towards the horizon. The boy sighed and put his hands in the pockets of his robes. He looked up, at the huge fire sigils slowly circling above the city.

"This life, sometimes it makes me feel, arrrghh," he groaned, stopping the thought and the accompanying emotion before slowly starting to walk towards the library.

"It's not fair," he mumbled to himself. But all the other students had turned in at the dormitory and there was nobody around to hear his complaint, or understand where specifically it was coming from. -/- The following day passed quietly, some hours being spent outside wandering the city in a daze and some spent in the library reading up on banned magic and prepping for the start of semester exams.

Those arrived, if anything, too early, and Jim still felt too overstimulated to really stand amongst the gigantic crowd of students inside the colosseum after the theoretical exams had passed. It was with a sense of detachment that he passed the practical portion, showcasing himself as being a third circle mage, able to cast two different spells at once. This shocked some, although Jim didn't really know why.

Professor Waters, who was the one testing him again today, which made him really curious about how these lots were drawn, heavily emphasised that he'd benefit from further instruction in external mana sensing. Jim fundamentally agreed on some level. Lebowski avoided his gaze after Jim joined the crowd to observe as more and more finished students showing off their spells.

It was as Katniss finally stepped forward that the next somewhat unexpected showing occurred, the girl having not only the hexagonal shield, two mana missiles and the hiding in the ground spell, but also advanced mana sensing and some basic divination abilities. Jim abruptly wondered if he should have shown his memory copying skill, before realising that in a normal examination situation, nobody would trust him enough to put a hand to their head and cast a spell.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. It had only worked on Katniss because she didn't have any defenses and because memories always sought to rejoin the whole. Quatzel had said it would be infinitely more difficult with an older and more experienced mage since their body and their magic innately rejected foreign signatures, no matter how familiar the content of the message.

"How did you do it?" Waterflower suddenly asked him after having sidled up next to Jim in the crowd.

"I was mostly studying other stuff during the first semester, and didn't really see the point in the basic theory. That part was mostly there for the uneducated MiteloSanns so I decided to prioritise," Jim explained briefly before turning around and leaving.

"What crawled up his ass and died?" Dew wondered to herself as the usually insufferable moron disappeared in the crowd towards what seemed to be the library? But, that couldn't be, right? -/- The next morning Jim blankly looked up at the results board of the exams, seeing that he'd received two election slots as needed. He didn't even bother looking at the rest of the information, seeing no value in it, although he did note that Katniss had similarly gotten access to two extra classes.

He walked past some silent students who were still giving him queer looks, whispering something about the top ten as he made his way to the teacher's tower. Not because the teacher's tower was his destination, but because the lich's shack was right next to it. It was as he approached the shack that he was suddenly stopped by an elderly voice.

"What are you doing, young man?" the headmaster asked in front of the entrance to the teacher's tower as he saw Jim walking up to the lich's personal office. Jim turned towards the purple-robed man, in regards to whom he had quite complex feelings.

"I wanted to ask professor Quatzel if I qualify for the special talent clause," he said truthfully, not seeing the need to hide the truth. Headmaster Leigh raised a bushy eyebrow.

"What's your name?" he asked as he pulled out a small snakeskin notebook from one of his pockets and started flipping through it.

"Jimothy Papillion Savant."

"Saar, Saditz, Savant," the headmaster mumbled absent-mindedly as he flipped through the notebook, found a page and started scanning it from top to bottom.

"Your practical scores were excellent," the man praised, before pausing.

"The theoretical portion however… Only above average. Rank 11, a big jump from last semester." He phrased part as a question, sort of.

"The quality of the academy's instruction has dropped to accommodate more students, mostly weaker students," Jim said blasely.

"It's hard to pay attention in a class teaching people the basics you learned when you were a child."

"If you knew the basics so well, then you could have aimed for a higher grade in the theoreticals, no?" the headmaster asked as teachers passed by behind him and turned their heads to briefly glance at the two before entering or exiting the tower. Jim shook his head.

"I know the basics so well I forget them," he explained.

"Once knowledge enters the depths of the mind's library it becomes understanding and sometimes that understanding is hard to put into words." He shrugged with a faraway look for some reason, remembering the endless tutoring he'd endured as a child when his parents had found out of his magic potential. The very same tutoring that had irreparably damaged his curiosity now that he thought about it.

"I see," the headmaster said somewhat doubtfully with an unimpressed frown.

"Well how about this. Generally we offer students the ability to be approached by one of the staff for personal guidance in the optional second year, but if you manage to conclude Combat Magic 1 and impress the teachers from your selected electives we can talk again." Jim thought back and didn't remember any of the students he knew having received such an opportunity. After all, he hadn't, so why would anyone else? Although, hadn't Evergreen said something about wind magic and Cherirk about Earth magic?

It was impossible to know, really.

"I'll likely be taking External Mana Sensing and an Introduction to Mind Magic," Jim told the headmaster. There was still juice to squeeze out of those topics considering how useful they were for literally all aspects of magic. He hadn't quite managed to divide his mind in two for easier multitasking, but he was very close to making mana sensing a passive ability, he could, eh, almost feel it.

"Well, colour me surprised. You said you weren't that interested in fundamentals," the headmaster said approvingly, stroking his long beard.

"Good choices!" he exclaimed, before pausing.

"However, are you set on approaching professor Quatzel?" Jim looked away from the man and directed his blue eyes upwards, at the equally blue sky.

"He is the strongest," he concluded eventually and closed his eyes as he felt purpose, thick and heavy, weighing down his chest.

"Maybe me too? I can…" he trailed off.

"Let's hope your efforts can rise to meet your ambitions!" the headmaster said loudly with a guffaw.

"Courage my boy, courage! Do find me in a few weeks if you pass Combat Magic 1!" The headmaster left. Jim was left standing there, staring up at the cloudless sky. He blinked and for a moment he suddenly felt like he was hovering far above in the sky, looking at the city from above. Everything in the palm of his hand.

"The strongest, huh?" he asked himself, before shaking his head and turning around back towards the dormitories. He had to find Katniss and then find Harry. It was probably unsafe to approach the lich now after essentially having received a reprimand from the headmaster. They would have to start working on the Alice issue for the upteenth time. Convince the detective that the tunnels were real, accompany him to chase the Oboroten so he wouldn't die like a loser again and then focus on other matters.

One month of effort, then five more months to focus on other things. The fire could wait a month or two until Jim qualified for more regular tutoring with Quatzel, the creature would hardly be running away after all. Jim suddenly wondered. If Quatzel had been there, on that hill… No, he didn't have to wonder. The lich would have likely had a solution to the approaching disaster. That's just the kind of mage he was. The kind of mage that Jim, regrettably, wasn't.

"The strongest," Jim muttered again as he shuffled off.

"If not me… then who?"