Young Writers Society

It was on Tuesday when Rudi and Vinnia had their first lessons in magic. For one reason or another, they had been separated from their peers to be taught in a private setting, and it puzzled Rudi greatly. He wasn’t nearly as magicless as Vinnia, so why did he have to be here too?

Vinnia appeared to be thinking the same thing. Or, more like she was definitely thinking it. The moment she walked into Count Stephan’s classroom, she stopped, blank eyes fixed on a spot behind Rudi’s ears. “What are you doing here?” she asked accusingly.

“Private magic instruction,” Rudi said.

“You could have told me we shared this when you read my schedule for me.” Still fuming, she stomped towards a desk and fell into a seat.

Suddenly, the classroom door shut itself quietly. From who knew where, Count Stephan’s voice echoed into the room. “I have received word from your families that neither of you has ever performed purposeful magic before,” he said, “but just as a little test of wills, I’d like to see if you can locate me while I’m under this invisibility spell.”

Scrunching his face in worry, Rudi glanced around the room. Was there any sort of light distortion that might help him with this? A glance at Vinnia’s bored face told him that she didn’t care, and would be of no help even if she did see the Count. The bookshelves behind Count Stephan’s desk were still perfectly straight, and none of the desks looked diffracted.

“Is there any advice on how to go about this, Count Stephan?” Rudi asked. He’d given the entire room a thorough look-over, and he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Hmm, I suppose you wouldn’t have much of a clue, would you? Why don’t you try closing your eyes? Listen instead of looking.”

Rudi tried, he really did, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat. “I still can’t figure it out,” he admitted.

From her desk, Vinnia let out an exasperated gasp. “You’re not even trying, you oaf. Think about it. You’re a ten, and the Count’s a seven. Your will to see him could easily overpower any invisibility spell he casts.” She played with her bangs for a few seconds before falling exaggeratedly to her desk.

“You’re not one to give advice, Vinnia,” the Count’s voice echoed, “given that you don’t appear to be trying all that hard.”

She muttered under her breath before pretending to sleep at her desk. It was rather rude of her, Rudi thought, but following her advice couldn’t hurt. Eager to get this right, Rudi forced himself to think only of locating the Count. Eyes closed, his vision was black. Except for one little glow in front of Vinnia’s desk. Was that it? Rudi opened his eyes and pointed at the spot.

“You’re standing in front of Vinnia, right?” he asked.

Yawning, Vinnia clapped slowly. “Congrats. You found the Count.” She stood and stretched, knuckles cracking with the most annoying noise. “Ollie, Ollie, oxen-free.”

Exactly where Rudi had pointed out, the Count’s frame blurred back into existence. He wore a pleasantly surprised smile directed at Rudi. “Well done. Not many first-timers can get that one. Now for you, Vinnia.”

She yawned, blinking as the Count disappeared again. Ten seconds later, she lashed out her hand and pointed at a cabinet on the right side of room. “Right there, Sir. In front of the chalk cabinets.”

Count Stephan reappeared instantly, eyes wide, but clearly calculating. “How in heaven’s name did you guess?”

“Magic,” she said.

“Well, of course you used magic,” the Count pointed out, “you had to, since you don’t have enough to simply overpower my spell like Rudi did.”

Vinnia’s face soured immediately. “It was a joke. No way could I actually use magic. You said so yourself yesterday morning when we retried the measuring spell.”

Glancing back and forth between Vinnia and the Count, Rudi wondered exactly how tense this situation could get, and how to avoid it. He certainly didn’t know any topics that could draw them away from this. Finally, his stomach uttered a whining complaint, and the Count lost the will to argue.

“Sorry, Rudi. Vinnia’s just being a nuisance.”

Though anyone could have seen that, Rudi refrained from being a smart-alec and pointing it out. “So, what are we going to do next?” he asked.

“Oh, I’ll be doing spells with you, but Vinnia’s going to learn transmutations. It’s harder than spells, but it doesn’t require the use of magic.” Taking a large, blue-bound book from the nearest shelf, the Count began on something of a lecture. “You see, transmutations work by taking the magic of people who step on them. Simply by creating one, Vinnia could tap into your magic, and if she used the right one, you would never know. Spells, on the other hand, require magic from inside the creator. It’s ideal for you, since you’ve got so much of it.” He plopped the book open on Vinnia’s desk and gestured for her to start reading it, something she begrudgingly did.

The explanation sort of made sense, but it raised a question in Rudi’s mind. Why put him and Vinnia in the same private class if they were going to learn completely different things?

The rest of the lesson was quiet, mostly reading and magical theory, but every so often, Rudi’s stomach interrupted the silence. By the time class ended, Rudi’s face was on fire from embarrassment. It was lucky that Vinnia didn’t care so much about teasing him as she did everyone else. As they joined the river of pages walking towards the mess, Vinnia bid him goodbye. Rudi watched her carefully as she darted through the crowd, wondering how she knew where to go when she couldn’t see over anything.

A bony elbow knocked against Rudi’s arm a second later. “How was magic?” Simon asked, “Count Stephan didn’t teach you the seeing spell, did he?”

“Uh… is that what you use to find an invisible person?”

Simon’s eyebrows rose a little. “I suppose you could use it for that, but more than anything people use it to see magic in its base form. Of course, really strong people don’t need the spell to see magic, but you know, not everyone can be a level ten on the Zauber scale.”

Sniffling, Rudi wondered if there was a round-about way of implying that he might have possibly been a level ten. For some reason, he wasn’t entirely keen on telling Simon about that. He might get teased. “No, he didn’t teach it to us. We mostly just did reading today.”

“That’s boring. Well, you had the Countess earlier today, didn’t you? How was her class?”

Now, Lady Fey’s class was something for Rudi to talk about. For their first lesson, she’d shouted her single class rule, which was to respect others and themselves at all times, and then conjured books onto everyone’s desks and started on the different kinds of energy. Rudi was found the idea that heat was just little tiny particles moving around very interesting. “It was very fun,” he said.

“I’ll bet. What else did you do?”

Counting off on his fingers as he walked, Rudi listed the morning archery lesson, followed by beginning swordsmanship. Vinnia had been particularly bad at this, always putting her hand behind her back for some reason. After lunch he’d gone to Language studies with the Baroness Sonnenburg, and then Lady Fey’s class, of course.

“How was the Baroness’s class, anyway?” Simon asked, squishing through the crowd after Rudi. They were nearing the mess, and the hallways only seemed to get tighter near there.

“It was alright. She mostly just complained about the fifth year students.” The aroma of fatty gravy tickled Rudi’s nose, and he knew they’d reach the mess any moment now. Good thing too, because he was starving. As the crowd squeezed through the wooden doorway, Rudi spotted Vinnia and Axel already at a table, steaming meat and vegetables piled before them.

As Rudi slid in next to Vinnia, she slouched onto the table, face wrought with disgust. “Slow,” she complained, “way, way, way slow.”

Across the table, Axel kept quiet. His face was green almost, and his lips curled thin into a nervous line. “Vinnia, are you sure about what Elizabeth said? I mean, I looked at her paper, and she really did get full marks. I think she won this round.”

“Does it matter? She said you two were equals at this and she’s right. You both sounded like drunk old men over midwinter’s midnight.” Vinnia blew a stray hair from her face and banged a fist on the table. She recoiled and examined her hand sourly. “Drat it. I’ve got a splinter. This is why we put finish on wood.”

While Vinnia picked uselessly at the black speck stuck in her hand, Rudi watched for Elizabeth out of the corner of his eye. He tried to keep conversation with Simon at the same time, but found that too much and just nodded when he deemed it appropriate. The blonde girl did come, eventually. Sauntering like a veteran soldier, she stopped behind Axel and leaned her elbow on his head.

“Nice to see you, Elizabeth,” Axel said dryly. Vinnia stopped picking at her splinter.

“You as well, Cart-Part. So, how was the native speaker’s judging?” Her eyes shifted onto Vinnia. “Please tell me you judged fairly.”

Screwing her face into utter contempt, Vinnia complained about Northerners and their dumb, unfinished tables. “And your Alten is awful. When were your books made? A thousand years ago? I feel like we’re still in the feudal system here.”

Rudi didn’t know what the feudal system was, but based on the way Axel and Elizabeth bristled at the comment, he guessed it was something of an insult. “I’m guessing the contest is a tie, then?” Elizabeth asked. She sounded like she might murder someone.

Vinnia shrugged, appearing to be uninterested for a moment. Then, she suddenly leapt to her feet and hissed, “Go sit! The Count’s here to give thanks! Save your stupid little brawl for the fencing rooms!”

As the mess hall door swung open, both fifth years raised one eyebrow. They looked at each other, and even the Count had to stop, for the tension in the air was that thick.

“We shall continue this at the Autumnal Equinox Ball,” Elizabeth said finally. The room buzzed with a silent gasp as she returned to her seat, and Rudi wondered what exactly the Autumnal Equinox Ball was. He hoped it wasn't anything too important.