2. Some Lessons Belong in the Classroom

Bow's End Tavern
Dorian bids good night to Greta and then says to Zix. "I best attend to my chores before the wine gets to my head."

Of course, wine does not work that way but such is the way of wine that one does not one realize that it is driving decisions until after you've bungled them. He takes long deep breaths.

After leaving the tavern, he makes his way to Sept and Sabre, a strange forge and metalsmith. Within, he moves a certain set of pewter mugs, adjusting their handles. After that, he makes his way to the alter. There he lights a certain incense and prays to the god of wine.

Having been seen he returns to the treasury in order to review correspondence. Unfortunately, it's too early for any responses to the several letters he sent to his contacts. Still, he has accounts to record and ledgers to balance.

In three meantime, he writes a cryptic note to leave later for the Society.

A quill may be said by one of iron heart to be hollow, yet many forget what should flow within. One finds that they wish to know more.

Satisfied, he folds it and stuffs it in his inside pocket to leave on his floor just inside his door tonight.

The next day
Dorian wakes early, the soft glow of dawn barely creeping through his window. As he rises, his foot nearly crushes something on the floor—his own note, but now altered.

The parchment has been carefully unfolded and refolded, but someone has written beneath his original message in a sharp, precise hand:

A quill may be hollow, but the ink remains unseen. We, too, wish to know more. Seek Kiraen. She has the eyes to glimpse what others miss, the silence to move where others stumble. Clues point beneath stone and dust, beneath an abandoned house where the past lingers unseen. Some doors may have been locked for a reason - take care if you wish to lock-pick them.
— S. S. T.

As Dorian picks up the note, something else catches his eye—a small, gleaming object resting beside it. A silver coin.

He lifts it carefully, feeling the cool metal against his fingertips. At first glance, it seems unremarkable, but as he turns it in the dim morning light, the weight feels wrong and a faint shimmer ripples across its surface. A whisper of magic lingers around it, subtle yet undeniable.

Mutatio.

A spell of change, of shifting properties. Was this simply an enchanted coin, or something more? A key, perhaps, disguised in plain sight? The Society rarely dealt in the obvious.

Dorian tucks both the note and the coin safely away. Whatever it was, he would have to test it later. For now, there were other obligations to attend to.

With one last glance at the morning sun rising beyond the window, he straightens his coat and strides out the door.

It was time for class.

Introduction to Magical Theory.

Biblioplex
The heavy wooden doors of the Biblioplex lecture hall creaked open, allowing a hush to settle over the gathered students as Professor Lorridian entered. Despite his small stature, or perhaps because of it, he climbed atop a cushioned stool at the front of the room with practiced ease, his golden eyes sharp as they swept across the sea of eager— and perhaps slightly nervous— faces before him. The medallion at his chest, an intricate piece of metalwork adorned with ancient runes, caught the candlelight as he moved. It pulsed faintly, as if responding to his mood.

For a moment, he said nothing. Instead, he opened a heavy tome that had been resting beside him, its pages thick with age and knowledge. He ran a finger across the text, the faintest hint of a smile flickering at the corner of his lips, before snapping the book shut with a decisive thump.

"Welcome, first-years. If you have not yet gotten lost within these halls, fear not, you will. It’s practically a rite of passage. Today, we begin with something far more important than maps or library manners. Today, we talk about Magical Theory, the very bones and breath of all you will learn here. Many of you might think of magic as a tool — a wand flick, a whispered word, a shimmering light — but magic is not merely a trick of the hands or tongue. It is thought given form. Intent made tangible. Magic is what happens when will collides with reality — and reality surrenders."

He leans forward, hands clasped, ink-stained fingers threading together.

"There are eight primary schools of magic, each representing a different philosophy, a different approach to solving the same problems. You will learn all of them, whether they call to you or not — because true mastery is not found in comfort, but in curiosity."

"Perceptio, the art of sensing and understanding, teaches us that knowledge is power — and that seeing what others cannot changes everything."

"Dominatio is the magic of command — bending the will of beasts, objects, even fate itself, to suit your own. Dangerous, yes. Tempting? Always."

"Creatio is the spark of invention — summoning light, flame, even life itself, from the void. To create is to defy nothingness."

"Mutatio, the hand of transformation, reshapes what is into what could be — bending flesh, stone, or even spells into new forms."

"Excidium is the cold hand at your throat — entropy, death, and unraveling. Fear it, yes, but understand it."

"Tutela, the guardian’s path, shields and heals, preserving life when all else would see it end."

"Amplifico empowers, heightens, and drives potential to its peak — whether muscle, mind, or magic."

"Illusio, the dance of misdirection, bends sight, thought, even truth itself. It is the art of weaving what was never there."

"Now, here’s the truth you must remember: there is no single right way to solve a problem. Every challenge can be approached from any school — if you are clever enough. A locked door can be shattered with Excidium, commanded open with Dominatio, or simply seen through with Perceptio. Each school is a lens, not a limitation."

"Which brings us to your first exercise. In groups of four, you will invent a problem — a dragon loose in the alchemy lab, a haunted well, a tower where time runs backwards — whatever excites your imagination. Then, each of you must propose a solution using two distinct schools of magic, showing how they might solve the problem. No repeating the same school your partner has already used — and if you already know some magic, I expect you to challenge yourself by avoiding your most familiar schools. Growth comes from discomfort."

"Should you find yourselves utterly baffled, locked in a heated debate, or simply in need of a well-placed nudge—you may call upon me."

He taps the medallion at his chest, its runes flashing briefly in response.

"This little trinket is attuned to my name. Speak it with intent, and I shall hear."