Cordyceps Sixteen
Cordyceps Sixteen
“That was… spectacular,” Milo said. The other two, Andrew and George, were bobbing their heads next to him.
Class had ended already. The Professor had given us a short lecture in the greenhouse once we’d returned. It wasn’t anything too enlightening, just an explanation of the uses for the onion we had gathered. It wasn’t anything more than what my [Druid Sight] had told me, so I only really paid him half an ear.
The professor had been happy with the small batch I’d brought him (the biggest in the class) and that was enough for me. Then after handing back our equipment and storing it away (which the professor showed us where and how to do) we were let go.
Lunch was next, and the three other Dragons and I were heading back to the main Academy building. I suspected that the other’s stomachs were just as grumbly as my own at the moment.
“It wasn’t much,” I said. “They didn’t notice me showing up, so I caught them off guard. I don’t think I could take them in a straight fight. And I don’t want to try.”
Milo glowered his chubby little face off. “Those brutes. No traditions, no proper upbringing. I heard my dad say that the new rich were nothing but trouble, and he was right. Those Trolls are nothing but trouble.”
“I’m sure they’re not all bad,” I said. And that earned me a trio of strange looks. I guessed that the nuance of treating others like people was still lost on them. “Well, whatever, do you think we should report on Harbin? Tell the teachers?”
“We should take care of him ourselves,” Andrew said.
“Yeah. We could ambush him,” George added.
I shook my head as their imaginations continued to run wild.They were plotting their revenge–as ineffective as I suspected it would be–until we reached the cafeteria. In my opinion, it would have been wiser to inform the staff about Mister Harbin’s behaviour first thing. It might not have amounted to much, but it would have been one more tick on his record, and that might have been enough to get him into some real trouble later on.
But thinking that far ahead was probably asking for too much. And really, Harbin was helping me right now. Milo had turned the story of my fight into some epic battle where the Dragons (who were less useless than they had been) were the valiant heroes. It was a wild exaggeration and it painted us as the heroes and the Trolls as villains.
When it came time to eat with the rest of the group, I noticed that some looked a bit more ruffled than usual, and others seemed wired and excited.
I grabbed a full tray of food, then chowed down while the others chatted and gossiped. Our little scuffle with the Trolls wasn’t the only one. It seemed like the animosity ran pretty deep across every class.
I stuffed a bunch of bread and food into a napkin and tucked it away, then after eating as quickly as I could, I excused myself and ran off. I returned to the dorms, [Unnoticeable] on full power to keep anyone from noticing me. Sir Nibbles was excited to see me, and more excited when I gave him some ham and cheese and bread. Soon he was lying across my lap, stomach distended by all the extra food he was getting lately.
I think Sir Nibbles was enjoying his time here, at least.
My next class was another elective. The Wandcrafting club this time, so a minor elective. I wasn't sure if we had a proper teacher for this one, or if the class was going to be taught by an older student. Heck, I wasn't entirely sure what the elective was even about. Wandcrafting, sure, but I'd only ever seen one wand in my entire life.
That had been years ago, at the entrance of the Ditz Dungeon being used by a man that had felt exceptionally powerful.
I imagined that Wandcrafting had something to do with crafting wands, so I had that much going for me. But really, I didn’t know what to expect from the class.
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
What I did look forward to, however, was meeting my next target.
Alexander Blackwood. He was a Troll student in my year. His father ran a number of smaller magic and enchanting shops and had been a Troll himself several years ago.
It seemed like a surprisingly small industry for someone sending a kid to this academy, but whatever. Maybe enchanting was a more expensive thing than I was expecting. It’s not like I could recall ever seeing anything enchanted that I knew of.
In any case, that was about all I knew about Alexander, so it was going to be an uphill battle getting to know him. The kid being in the Trolls complicated things more too.
Oh well.
I scritched Sir Nibbles behind the ear one last time, then tucked him away on my bed. “Stay quiet,” I told him before heading out. Wandsmithing was held in the main Academy building, on the top floor. I wasn’t sure how many other Dragons were in that class.
The corridors on the upper floor were almost entirely empty except for the very end. A group of two Trolls and a single Dragon were waiting by a doorway. There was a small plaque next to the door that read Wandcrafting Club.
I walked over, checking out the two Trolls students to try and guess which was Alexander. They were both about the same height, about half a head taller than I was. One had raven-black hair and the other a dark brown. The biggest difference was that one of them, the black haired kid, had the biggest ears I’d seen on a kid ever. His bowl cut didn’t help, really.
“Hello,” I said as I came over. I smiled a little at the lot of them. “Gunther, pleased to meet you.”
The other Dragon was the first to reply. “Simon, he said. “You were with Milo earlier, right?”
“Ah, yeah,” I said with a nod. I quickly dismissed him, however. I wanted to get the other two student’s names, so I turned their way and extended a hand.
They both hesitated, then one of them finally gave in. “I’m Eric,” he said. “This is Alexander.”
“Hi,” Alexander said. So, I finally had a face for my target, as well a pair of huge, unmistakable ears. I hoped for his sake that he grew into those.
“Do you know when class begins?” I asked.
Alexander, surprisingly, reached into his coat and pulled out a small pocketwatch with AB engraved on the back. “We have two minutes to wait, still,” he said.
“Alright,” I said.
“You have a weird accent,” Eric said. “Where are you from?”
“City Nineteen, but the far end. It’s a nice, quiet little spot. To us, you’re the one with the accent. Where are you from?” I’d practised that line, just in case. I had to be careful, and make more of an effort to keep my accents straight. It was surprisingly hard to keep speaking in the more posh local accent. I hadn’t fallen into slum patois just yet, but it was a near thing.
A student came over and opened the door, then welcomed us into the class. “I’m Cain,” he said. “A senior member of the Wandcrafter’s Club. Since you’re all still firsties, you’ll be going over the basics with me. Next year, assuming you pass all of our tests, you’ll be allowed into the club proper.”
The club room was a third classroom, a third workshop, and a third hangout space. There were chairs facing a blackboard on one end, then several workstations with a few small hand-powered tools in the centre of the room and a rack with even more tools up against one of the walls. The far end had a sofa wrapped around an end table next to a small standing fireplace. It was comfy, and the air smelled strongly of oils and recently cut wood.
Cain marched to the blackboard and started to write on it. “Your names?” he asked.
We gave him our names, and he nodded. “Good. In here, you are all members of the club. Your allegiance to your house, whether Dragon or Troll, doesn’t matter. What matters is your loyalty to the club and to the exquisite and ancient art of wandcrafting.” Cain spun around after writing the last of our names down. “What is a wand?” he asked before pointing to Simon.
“Um,” Simon, who was caught a little flat-footed, said. “A wand is a tool to cast spells.”
“That’s the most basic definition,” Cain said. “But it’s not inaccurate. But a wand is more than that. It’s a conduit, a battery, an assistant, and if you are very, very good at the craft, a helper in times of need. It’s a near-living device that allows a mediocre spell caster to become a proper mage. And in this club, we make wands. Today, I’ll be starting you off on the very basics. So pay attention.”
***