Mother of Learning. Arc 3 Incomplete

Yes, even after 4 weeks, Xvim was still making him levitate a pencil over and over again. Start over. Start over. Start over. The only thing Zorian learned in those sessions was how to dodge marbles that Xvim kept throwing at him. The jerk seemed to have an endless supply of those things.

«Yes, Professor Xvim likes his students to have a firm grasp of the basics before moving on to advanced topics,» Ilsa agreed.

That or he hates his students. Zorian personally thought his theory was a lot more plausible.

«Well, I just wanted to tell you that you might be able to change mentors soon,» Ilsa said. «One of my students will be dropping out after the summer festival, and I’ll have a vacancy to fill. Unless something comes up, you’re almost certain to be the one I pick. That is, if you’re actually interested in a transfer.»

«Of course I’m interested!» Zorian half-shouted, much to Ilsa’s amusement. He frowned for a moment. «Unless you also plan to throw marbles at me? Is that some kind of standard training method?»

«No,» Ilsa chuckled. «Xvim is special that way. Well, I just wanted to see how you feel about this before doing anything. Have a nice day.»

It was only after he was out of the classroom that he realized this development greatly complicated his plan to skip out on the dance. He couldn’t afford to annoy his (potential) new mentor too much, else he’d be stuck with Xvim for the rest of his education.

Well played, professor. Well played.

«Why can’t we just cast that spell ourselves once the dancing starts?»

Zorian let out a long-suffering sigh. «You can’t make an animation spell do something you don’t know how to do yourself. You don’t know how to dance, hence you cannot animate anyone to dance either. Also, how are you going to break the spell once the dance ends if you can’t move your arms where you want them to be? This really isn’t the sort of spell you should be casting on yourself.»

Really, there were so many problems with that idea that Zorian struggled to put them all into words. Are these people thinking about the questions they’re asking at all?

«So how many dances do we have to learn?»

«Ten,» said Zorian, bracing himself for the cries of outrage.

Sure enough, a rumble of complaints erupted after that statement. Thankfully, Ilsa took over the lesson at this point, instructing everyone to pair up and scatter throughout the spacious room to give everyone enough space. Zorian could already feel a headache coming and cursed himself from letting Ilsa talk him into this. Even though room six was fairly spacious, there were a lot of people and the invisible pressure they gave off was particularly strong today.

«You alright?» Benisek asked, putting his hand on Zorian’s shoulder.

«I’m fine,» Zorian said, waving his hand off. He didn’t like to be touched much. «I just have a slight headache. Did you need help with something?»

«Nah, you just looked like you could use some company, standing all alone in your little corner,» Benisek said. Zorian decided not to tell him that he was intentionally standing on the sidelines unless he was needed. Benisek wasn’t the sort of person who understood the need for some breathing room. «Say, who is your date for the dance anyway?»

Zorian suppressed a groan. Of course Benisek would want to talk about that.

Relationships weren’t something Zorian thought about often. The chances that one of his classmates would agree to date him were miniscule. For one, such a relationship would quickly be noticed by the rest of their classmates, and the resulting merciless teasing was something few relationships could survive for any appreciable length. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, all teenage girls liked older guys. Dating a guy that was two or three years her senior seemed to be a status symbol for a girl, and a majority of them loudly disparaged the male population their own age as crass and immature. When they were in their first year, all the girls wanted to date third years. Now that they were in their third year, all the girls wanted to date apprenticed graduates. Since there were plenty of guys willing to play along, the chances that some girl in his class would give him the time of day was negligible.

And the girls that weren’t his classmates? To most of them he wasn’t Zorian Kazinski, but ‘that guy who is a brother of Daimen and Fortov Kazinski’. They had this image of what he ought to be like, and once it became obvious that the real him didn’t match their expectations, they inevitably became upset.

Besides, all this romantic stuff… well.

«Well?» Benisek prodded.

«I’m not going,» Zorian said.

«What do you mean ‘I’m not going’?» Benisek said cautiously.

«Just what I said,» Zorian said. «I’m skipping out on the whole dance thing. Turns out I had an alchemy-related accident and had to stay in my room for the evening.»