Page 49 of Self Studies

They were all my age, if not a little older. Something set them apart from the other students I’d seen. I searched for the difference, my gaze landing on Professor Garnet before it clicked. Raw power. Their magic put them a step above the other students. Confident postures, bordering on ego, settled on their shoulders. I let myself sink into a light mage-trance. Like Professor Garnet, I could trace their physical forms in their swirling lines of magic. Even Ram, to my disappointment.

Professor Garnet clapped his hands together. “Great, we’re all here.” He raised his voice enough to be heard above the light chatter. Reluctantly, I left my wall and gathered with the others in the center. “We have a new student joining us. Aphrodite’s still learning to access her magic. She has a lot to learn but even more to offer.”

I narrowed my eyes. What did he mean by that? Was it a warning? Or an inside joke? The students around me shifted uneasily. I did as well, wishing I could see inside the professor’s mind.

“I suggest you refrain from judging,” Professor Garnet continued. “The self-righteous scream judgments at a world they’ve not taken the time to understand.” His lips tweaked. “Aphy, you’re in the center today.”

He pointed to a rune dead center in the room.

“Professor, are you sure….” Saffron started to ask, but Professor Garnet cut him off with a gesture.

I slowly padded to the center and sat cross-legged on the rune for ‘spirit.’ The circle reformed, including Professor Garnet, to surround me. Each mage radiated their power.

“You told me you couldn’t use magic,” Professor Garnet began.

I glanced around at my fellow students. Behind me, Ram licked his lips. I quickly faced forward again and pulled on my braid.

“You told me you’re a vessel to be used,” Professor Garnet continued. I swallowed, my stomach sinking. “As you’re learning in Practical Magic Application, magic is energy, but magic is also creativity. Non-magical people define Metaphysics as an abstract theory with no basis in reality. Magic is that basis. As you already know, energy is created when you rub your hands together, but it’s also created when you think. When you imagine. Look at me.”

I met his intense gaze.

“What’s your fantasy, Aphy?”

My mind went blank. No one moved.

After a few moments, Professor Garnet nodded. “You don’t have one.”

I flinched. I didn’t. I didn’t have anything.

“A fantasy’s something you create for yourself,” Professor Garnet continued. “It’s a hope, a dream. For some, it’s an imaginary friend or a distant world they can escape to. What do you dream about while you sleep?”

I peeked around the circle. Although a few mages offered me a smile, most kept their expression carefully neutral to see how this turned out. Saffron included.

“You don’t know these mages,” Professor Garnet acknowledged my discomfort. “They don’t know you. You cannot live behind a wall of fear. Some of them will become your friends. Some of them will use every word you utter against you. Living is about taking risks and dealing with consequences. That’s why you’re at the Institute. So you can learn these lessons in a controlled environment.”

I took a deep breath and tried to strengthen my resolve, but Professor Garnet stripped me down to my bare truths in front of a group of strangers. It hurt.

The professor’s face darkened. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Trust the program, Aphy. You have strength inside of you. We simly need to draw it out.”

I looked away from him. Clasping my hands together to reduce their shaking, I started breathing deeply, but it didn’t slow my racing heart. I tried to trace the patterns on the floor, but Professor Garnet’s voice interrupted me.

“We’re going to share with you first.” The professor looked around the room. Except for Ram and a mage covered in tattoos, everyone's rims were primary colors. They looked at me with calm curiosity, as if this was an interesting twist to their usual routine.

I swallowed.

“Introduce yourselves and share your fantasy,” Professor Garnet said.

I closed my eyes and wished for the safety of Beryl’s arms. But he wasn’t here, and I had to learn to stand on my own feet. When I opened them, the mage on Professor Garnet’s left got my attention. Adjusting my position, I faced each mage as they spoke and focused on their words.

Their fantasies ranged from the simple to the complex.

A dark-skinned bald mage made me laugh with his fantasy which sounded like a science fiction novel where he got to save the world. A tattooed covered mage smiled softly, describing his pet dog. I found myself leaning forward, honestly hoping he’d get it some day.

My skin crawled as Ram detailed his harem with me in its center. Desipte the graphic nature of his words, the mages around me didn’t respond. I suddenly felt very small.

Last, I turned toward Saffron, seated on Professor Garnet’s right.

The Greek God’s blond eyebrow twitched. “My fantasy is to get out of this place.”

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