Until now, Arcus’s magical knowledge had come from books and his various mentors. As his time in the Institute progressed, he found that the lectures could nevertheless still have much to offer him. To give just one example, he learned that spells were more than their words and contexts, and could just as easily be influenced by vocalization and pitch. Magic was a topic that seemed to run endlessly deep. Naturally, the content of some of his lectures left him scratching his head.
“Offensive spells each align with a certain attribute. These are fire, water, wind, and earth,” the elderly lecturer began.
Though it took him a moment to make the connection, Arcus was reminded of the four classical alchemical elements. Unnerved, he listened closely as the lecturer continued.
“The efficacy of a spell can change depending on the tale upon which it is based. So long as the tale does not conflict with the incantation, it is generally safe to categorize spells based on attribute. Broadly speaking, water magic is strong against fire, earth against water, fire against wind, and wind against earth.”
Is this guy for real? Arcus was practically screaming internally.
He dearly hoped that the lecturer was explaining the theory as the basis for something more empirically rigorous. Much more important was the scope and efficacy of a spell. Apply enough heat to water and it would evaporate, and a powerful enough jet of water could easily break through earth. Wind could be used to fan flames, and where the heck did he get the idea that wind was strong against earth? It only caused erosion under specific circumstances.
The lecture reminded him of his discussion with Noah and Cazzy when they were escaping the Holy Tower. Before Arcus had enlightened them about gravity, they’d spoken of a base attribute, and ascension and descent. Perhaps this theory of “attributes” still plagued the Institute’s thaumaturgical model. It was all just one more local oddity to throw on the pile, waiting to be mentally inventoried.
The man had come from a country that had embraced standardized education. At the Institute, however, the lectures were taught independently of each other and often relied heavily on the instructor’s personal research, occasionally leading to the teaching of fringe viewpoints. This particular lecture, at least, wasn’t as bad as the outright conspiracist interpretations of the Chronicles that certain other cranks peddled in their classes. Those were so ridiculous that Arcus couldn’t even bring himself to laugh. How many times had he been on the brink of blurting out, “cool story—” before stopping himself? In a world without the internet, no one would get it anyway.
Regardless, it was a new day and he was in a new lecture for General Spellcraft. There were two lecturers this time: one an experienced man, the other a bespectacled woman who had joined only this year. Her long, brown hair was tied up, and she wore a robe—a favorite uniform among the teaching staff. While the way she spoke and conducted herself wasn’t quite enough for Arcus to think less of her, she did give off a slightly clumsy impression. Even the awkward way she handled her paperwork couldn’t be excused by her inexperience.
Presently, the experienced instructor was leading. After explaining how advantageous the act of incanting itself could be, he covered his mouth with his hands like he was warming them up on a cold day.
“This technique is known as Frozen Palms. It is especially popular with magicians from the north.”
On top of hiding the movements of your lips, the trick was to incant quietly. Noah seemed to favor northern magic, but so too did he favor his rapier, and so Arcus rarely saw him put this technique to use. Besides, since Frozen Palms muffled the voice, it took away the advantage of hearing oneself clearly, and careless usage lent itself to mis-incanting.
“Even if one is to enunciate the incantation perfectly, this technique still runs the risk of mis-incantation, and so it requires a great deal of practice,” the instructor continued, echoing Arcus’s thoughts.
Wait a second.
Arcus had assumed that it was the muffling of one’s voice—that was, the mild echo and resulting confusion—that would make the caster stumble. But according to the lecture, even a perfect pronunciation could cause problems. In essence, this meant the mis-incantation was caused by something external, which Arcus wasn’t sure he could agree with. He’d never considered the risk of his incantation being drowned out by another sound, but perhaps that was because he always cast so carefully.
Food for thought...
Was enunciation all that mattered? Or was that just an assumption that someone had run with and had become the norm? If so, who exactly had decided that it was the case?
The lecturer interrupted Arcus’s fruitless thought process. “Cat’s Paw is another popular choice.” He held his hand, facing outward, in front of his mouth. His arm was held at an angle, and his fingers curled up gently like a cat’s paw. He could now incant clearly without fear of his lips being read.
Thinking back, Claudia had done something similar during the duel, preventing Arcus from hearing her spells completely. While he could see the merits of the technique in a fight between magicians, it would be harder to use when fists or weapons were involved.
Once the instructor had demonstrated a similar technique, Orans Hand, in which the palm was held flat, they came to a break in the lecture.
“We still have some time left. Would you take over, Joanna?” He turned to the new lecturer.
“What? Oh, of course!”
Arcus wondered whether it was her first time leading a lecture. He could feel his gaze softening automatically, like he wanted to cheer her on.
Joanna started to file fretfully through her paperwork. “I was supposed to be teaching...linked calling? Was that this one?”
The experienced lecturer hesitated. “No, it’s not that one. You aren’t meant to be covering linked calling either. That’s for second-years.”
Joanna stuttered several times before managing an “I’m sorry!”
“Here, it’s this one.”
“Of course! Properties of hex!” She straightened up. “I’ll be explaining what to look out for when and just after you cast a spell.”
Interesting. She might be able to teach me something.
“Did you all know that hex is capable of more than just summoning dark spirits? There is a lot more research to be done on the subject, but recently it’s been suggested that it is easier to use magic amid a dense hex concentration compared to in an area of low hex.”
“Easier” had a very broad definition. Easier how?
Joanna went on to explain that one’s aether flowed more smoothly, and that its control was less arduous when it was released from the body.
“May I ask a question, Professor?” Arcus said.
“Go ahead.”
“Is this ‘ease of use’ something that can be immediately observed?”
“It’s difficult to say for sure, since it’s all very subjective. The most objective evidence we have is that aether seems to travel farther when released in areas that are rich in hex.”
“Wait a moment. Does this mean the concentration of hex in an area can be measured in some way?”
“No, not yet. These experiments have been performed in places that have been manufactured to create the ideal conditions for hex buildup.”
“I see.”