“I am Degraa Brimblewood, a dwarven professor from Hammerhold. I will be teaching you all the fundamentals of magic and it’s role in society before your first test next week. I hope that together, we can foster a unique relationship that will help you grow into daring swashbuckling heroes of tomorrow; lets take attendance now, shall we?” Professor Brimblewood scans the rows of desks looking into the eyes of atleast 100 students. A bead of sweat traces down his forehead as he tugs against his collar, “Uhm, I have a better idea. Theres a lot of you so we'll try something new.”

With the wave of a hand his desk stretches from one end of the room to the other, a draw shoots open in the process; inside seems bottomless as a hundred papers fly out filling the air like snow in an ice storm. Paper shoots to each student stopping meters from their faces before a pen scribbles a portrait of each of them. Lizen becomes fully engrossed in the spell watching as the pen perfectly sketches each of his features. It signs his name at the bottom of the page and presses itself against his thumb, marking itself, while a piece of chalk begins to scribble on the board, writing names of those who aren’t in attendance. 

Professor Brimblewood’s display of magical prowess is unlike any other, granting every spell with grace he moves with finesse and ease– it is truly a magnificent display–especially for a dwarf. His father, a mining and geological engineer, and his mother, an archeologist, had always misunderstood Brimblewoods excitement when it came to pursuing magical arts. Most of their kind tend to stick with magical items, brute strength, simple magics, or machinery; however, professor Brimblewood chose a different path in his studies. Refusing to be like the masses he chose to become an arcane mage studying magics from across the spectrum. His bag of tricks is truly abyssal rivaling the deepest of seas. He stands as an enigma amongst mages.

He holds his hand out as a book slaps to his palm and flips to a page at random. “This here is a grimoire, an essential tool I assume some of you are familiar with.” He lightly places the book on his desk as two things are written on the board: Vital Arcanism and Incantation magic. The chalk also details two drawings of a dwarven body more specifically the core at their centers. The first image under Vital Arcanism shows arrows pointing from the body with the second one below Incantation magic displaying the opposite. 

“What is Vital Arcanism? Well– Vital Arcanism, also known as Internal magic, is the use of the mana already stored within yourself. Think of it as energy stored from the food you’ve already eaten. This energy flows through pathways known as mandrills: Intricate and complex conduits that traverse every limb and organ. A magical highway of some sort!” 

Professor Brimblewood extends a hand forward as a torrent of wind furrows around his arm, like a sleeve of blades it cuts the space around him before shooting off at a book in the distance shredding it to pieces. “Ah, a fine spell. If you notice, that ability is known as Aerofoil Glade. It came from the mana stored within me and my ability to shift that mana into wind; no outside energies required. Now as for Incantation magic, would anyone like to take a gander at what it may look like?” 

The room sturs with whispers of undecided conviction, nevertheless, Lizen answers to the call quickly rising from his seat; however, just as he’s about to volunteer an incantation is sang, “Doors of midnight, lamps of sun,” The boy stands at the back of class, his hand outstretched. The mana around him sparks with light before combusting into soulless heads enveloped in shadows, they become balls of solid smoke, morphing as he continues, “Sphihx of Black, devour.” The skulls soar into the air and fly around the classroom, they cackle as they leave a trail of black, streaking it’s path. 

Students cry out ducking their heads in fear as the black mist thickens. A sudden tilt in their trajectory sends them toward another student, she cries out as professor Brimblewood interject the attack– placing a mana bubble around her and the skulls stopping them in their tracks.

“That was a fascinating Incantation Spell, Sorin’s grave is excellent for attacking from multiple positions!” The students clap with joy from the spell and excitement continues to grow as Professor Brimblewood continues on. “Watching closely you all would have noticed the shifting mana in the air as it converged to a point– The sparks the glimmer and the mist all were mana shifting and changing as it became whatever he desired it to be.” He hops upon a book and soars overhead, “Now that we know the differences we can work on the next step, ”

A flock of smaller books swirl around the room– a wealth of knowledge in the shape of a tornado. “ Now, back to grimmoires.” Brimblewood’s fat and rosy face light up as he continues, “Typically a mage is limited to one at a time– a book with much power and intrigue.” The books fly in all directions arcing to the students around the room whizzing into their open hands. “I say pish posh to such a rule, here are mine.”

“Are all of these books Grimoires!?” A student cries. Brimblewood responds with laughter, a jolly man he is. The sheets flip from page to page, littered with scriptures of spells, both finished and unfinished. “A grimmoire is your strongest weapon, your best friend, and your most essential tool. A grimmoire serves as your second mind– a symbiotic link between you the book.” He taps his head as he continues, “watch my grimmoire as I think of a spell.” a book shoots up from a student’s hand and floats by his side. It swirls Brimblewood and flips through it’s pages, stopping on one in particular, the words on it glowing with a golden shimmer. A tornado of water lifts him from the ground holding them as he expertly maneuvers around the room. It seems as if he’s showing off by this point, for most of the class he prances around casting spells with a mere thought. Finally Professer Brimblewood snaps from ‘blowing his own trumpet’ and settles down by his desk, he clears his throat before waving his hand. Every grimmoire shoots forth back into his desk as he continues on with the lesson. “Ahem– sorry class, been about a year since I tought such an intriguing lesson, Isn’t magic fun? I hope you see the effectiveness of such tactics and wish for each of you to employ such studies into your own. Therefore I give you all these,” Professor Briimblewood’s books shot up once again carrying lifeless coppies distributing them amongst the class as the period bell chimes. 

Brimblewood sucks his teeth, “Ah, seems class will conclude here, for homework I would like for all of you to put atleast one spell into your Grimoires and use it in the upcoming test. These books are for you to test all of your creative theories and minds. Experiment, learn, and experiment some more. The world is harsh and some days may be colder than others, but never falter in your faith. A bright star burns hotter than any foe, take our sun for example, despite the night the sun continuously rises to meet us each day.” The final sentiment warms the hearts of the students as they exit the room, Brimblewood’s laughter guides them into the hallway as the door slams behind.

Lizen and Kara were pleasant spectators of the class, Lizen couldn’t help but repeatedly think about the kid who had summoned the ghoulish skulls of smoke. He wanted to see more of what the other kids could offer, he wanted to see what they could do. He stumbles in thought, euphoric from the possibilities. He bumps into Azurae who meets him with a gruff.

“Where were you two?” He asks.

“Class, like everyone else.” Kara answers as she graces past him.

“It looks like we'll only see each other during break huh?” Lizen laughs.

Azurae roars as he runs ahead of them, “We'll go to the next class together then, It's magical combat or something,”

“Sorry Azurae, but Lizen and I have– oh.” She spins on her heel grabbing hold of Lizen’s and Azurae’s hand, “Seems like you're going to get what you wanted after all.” 

Lizen confused, asks, “Huh, so we're cutting class?” He looks up, thinking for a moment before a smile paints his face, “I don't have a problem with that.” 

Kara takes out their schedule and waves it overhead, “No, we have a joint lesson with class 4, see!”

“Oh wow, a joint session, you hear that Azurae?”

Azurae steps ahead, “I guess that's cool or whatever.” His tail wags aggressively as his smile refuses to stray.

“You’re totally happy, aren't you?” Kara teases as she and Lizen begin poking and prodding Azurae’s face.

He barks at them, threatening to bite their fingers from their hands before chasing them to their class. Lizen and Kara’s laughs rang through the halls as they ran between hordes of students, none able to stop them from enjoying the moment.

Lizen looks back at Azurae’s face and then at Kara’s and he can’t help but feel at peace, he smiles as his heart shoots a burst of warmth throughout his body before laughter envelops him once more. He leaps over several students and continues to race to their next class, nonweary of their teacher.