Sorcery's Hue (A Malion Series Novel)

Reputation

"Uhm, Dark Star? Master scolded me for my behaviour yesterday. I am sorry for hitting you... and perhaps my words were not true either. Apologies." Allister slinked up to me at the beginning of my first official class. He had to attend it as well, alongside other witches.

"Are you alright?" He asked when I didn't respond, perhaps taking too long to ponder my answer.

"Yes. I accept. Sorry for the blast. I did not know its power." I told him concisely. He glanced away, then back at me.

"How about you come to sit with my friend and me? We could make a good group." He suggested, and I looked down at my desk and shook my head.

"I appreciate it, but I prefer to work by myself. This does not mean I don't wish to be your friend." I told him. His eyes seemed to light up slightly at the mention of friendship. He gave me a smile and headed off to the Deep Osrocan sitting near the back of the class. Her name was Fellorte. "Shrouded Will". The names of Osrocan are so diverse that I admire them sometimes. I've heard names like "Great Oak" or "Milestone," which brings me particular pride.

A Goldmage entered the room, his long golden cloak stopping just before the ground. I took an immediate interest in the man that introduced himself as Mister Grove. That day I learned the proper way to pronounce spells and the correct semantics for one called "Hold." Allister and I both had this spell as a conjure, so we were rather bored. It was still interesting to note the words and the movement the manoeuvre would require for other students.

Once we were released, I made my way to the arena and sat in the middle of it. I allowed a small ring of dark magic to manifest around me. I watched it grow and leak farther out into the training ground. The few students that were in the arena watched with awe or horror. I couldn't tell. The ring grew in width, and I took a deep breath before sending it upwards in a loud blast. Mumbles and murmurs filled the arena, and everyone had their eyes glued on me. Roiven had shown me this after he'd consoled me the day before.

"Ehm... excuse me, young one?" The voice of an unfamiliar teacher called me. I looked in her direction with a small polite smile.

"Yes, Madam?"

"What rank are you?" She asked, ducking closer.

"Witch. I joined the Academy yesterday, and the Master is yet to infuse my magikas into my wand." I said and showed it to her. Her eyes widened at the sight of the white focus.

"Greyroot wood?" I nodded. I thought I heard her mumble something like, "That's incredible", but she gave me a nod and a smile before returning to her spot. A group of girls came up to me as well. I was still sitting down. They were all between 20 and 40 years older than me.

"What spell was that?" She asked with some kind of patronising tone.

"Wound." At my word, they seemed to panic slightly. All but the one who'd asked.

"You know how dangerous that is to use in the breaks, right? What manoeuvre did you use there, anyway?" She growled.

"Have you not learned it yet? It's called Relief. Goldmagistrate Faric taught it to me yesterday. The Master was there too." I explained. She scoffed and pulled at a small High Osrocan, and the others followed.

"You know, you're quite the talk of the school already. Some students heard your failed transfusion the other day, and people have been saying you're much more powerful than the Master himself." Allister hissed as he sat next to me.

"I... I am not more powerful than him. He is the Master. That is not possible." I explained.

"Do you have to be so blunt? Dark Star, lighten up. They're going to think of you as curt and mean." He growled.

"I do not want to be misunderstood."

"Well, you're succeeding plenty at that if the tone of your voice isn't considered." He said with a grunt.

"Allister, if I were to inject any emotion into my voice, I'd be lying. I do not like lying."

"I can tell." He scoffed, "And apparently masks are fine."

"Allister, please. Are we not friends? You are much more talkative than I am. I'd be happy to take on the role of The Quiet One if it comes to that. It's comfortable." I said, moving into a more relaxed sitting position. I examined the patterns of the marble ground until Allister cleared his throat.

"Dark Star, you seriously are strange. I suppose we are both strange people. You've got a lot of power, and I've got a lot of smarts." He said, and I blurted out a giggle to the outrage of Allister, who pushed my shoulder, which toppled me over. I allowed my laugh to bounce out of me. The peal of the massive bell within the central tower sounded through the Academy, and we retreated to our classes. "Semantics in Physical" was my next class. The teacher was that same lady that asked me about my ability just before class. We both had the same surprised look on our faces to see each other. She introduced herself as Missus Angelina Blue, to whom Allister had definitely taken a particular liking. He was the most active in her class and excelled in Physical magic.

"Uhm, Madam? I was wondering... here it says that a "Transform" spell exists, but it can only be used by non-Gaian individuals. What does that mean?" He asked. She smiled at him.

"While it is true that most Gaians cannot use this spell if learned diligently, one can shift forms into a Beneathean, Fennian or Cragish form. One will still keep the core features of your Gaian skeleton in the other forms, though if you have some emotional or physical damage, that will show through in your transformed body. My Beneathean form, for example, is a Basaltwalker, and my limbs have flaked off patches of basalt, from the trials of life," She explained.

Basaltwalker fit her physical features quite well. Thin and tall with hollow cheeks. I suppose her bright eyes and broader shoulders set her apart from Coalwalkers.

"Madam!" I said, my hand shooting into the air.

"How difficult is it to learn this spell?"