Angus Macormand, a third-year Ritualist and participant of Fel’s class, walked up the stage. Fel, maneuvering himself to his seat, stubbed his toe against the desk’s stone exterior.
“Son of a-” He coughed, ignoring the students who had turned their gaze towards him. Fel shook his leg and gave his foot a quick wiggle before lowering himself into the desk’s chair. “Alright Mr. Macormand,” he began, “I assume you’re prepared for today’s exercise?” Fel raised an eyebrow and slumped himself forwards, slightly over the table.
Angus waved a hand around in the air in vague acknowledgment. He dipped the other hand into an embroidered pouch at his waist. The metal-lined opening of the bag expanded to envelop his fingers on contact, stopping as the hand flexed. The rest of the bag, turquoise blue with a faded gold-coloured trim, did not appear to shift.
With a flourish, Angus withdrew a small crystalline orb. Following that, he withdrew several reagents, a standard set of [Ritualist] drawing instruments, and a textbook.
Fel frowned at the textbook. He’d allow its use, but referencing the contents would mean forfeiting points. Doing so indicated that the student was not familiar with the ritual he was about to undertake. In essence, the item was a crutch. Again though, the decision was Angus’s to make. Fel shook his head and continued his observations.
Obsidian dust, death-stalker caps, void stone, a crystal orb…? It looked like a spatial ritual of some sort, but without the circle drawing, Fel wasn’t sure of its purpose. So he asked. “Before you begin, what ritual will you be displaying?”
The Collegium had provided each student with the materials and reagents necessary for the Ritual they’d reported to be using for this exam. It was Fel’s responsibility to confirm the material’s proper use. Another paper that’d he’d have to fill out before leaving. Fel gave a long-suffering sigh.
“Oh!” Angus’s head shot up. “It’s a portal ritual!” The young man scratched at his cheek for a moment. “I think.” He gave what appeared to be a nervous grin.
That brought Fel up short. “A portal ritual?” Blinking slowly, he brought a hand to his brow and continued. “How did you- no, my apologies, that’s none of my business.” Fel shook his head again and shuffled himself upright in the chair. “Come on up here then, and let’s take a look.”
Angus stepped up to the desk, book in hand, and dropped it in front of Fel. It was not, upon closer inspection, a Collegium textbook. No, this book was thicker and of better make than the books loaned out by the institution’s library. Or at least those the Collegium allowed taken outside its library’s walls. It was also, Fel noted, considerably more… stained.
A fairly clear-cut example of why the library had such policies.
Fingers avoiding the book’s more distinguishing blemishes, Fel turned the book to face him. The header at the top of the page read 'VoidSpace-Portaler’s Crystal' in a blood-red but neatly lettered script. He chuckled to himself, slightly relieved, eyes gliding across the page. Magic writers, always the dramatic sort.
A portal crystal, the header had been a good sign, but the ritual diagram confirmed it. There were no spatial anchorings in the drawing, and the crystal was clearly marked as the focal point of the ritual. Fel felt his shoulders loosen.
While valuable, Portal Crystal rituals were not the same beast as a ritual for fully-fledged Portal creation. The first was a single-use object intended to open a fast-acting portal to a set destination, the second was a pseudo-permanent staple of national trade and resource gathering, its use heavily regulated by the crown.
Fel gave Angus a flat look. “A ritual for a portal crystal, Angus, please do be more specific in your wording.” The momentary confusion had been an unwelcome surprise. “In any case, I approve of your ritual’s use. You may begin as you are ready.” Fel announced, handing back the reference book.
Angus snatched it from his hand, retreating to the center of the stage. He laid the book down, the ritual page opened, off to the side. Referring to the diagram, Angus began to draw his circle. After completing an initial segment, he returned to the book. With a soft ‘ah!’ the young man returned to the segment and walked forward two steps. He leaned down, drew a new section, then returned to the book with a halting gait.
Fel rubbed the bridge of his nose as he watched the process repeat itself. It wasn’t a bad drawing form, but neither was it what he expected from a third-year student in his class. The created lines would function, but they lacked flow. The ritual was a conglomeration of parts, it lacked in both skill and appreciation of the art.
Putting a stern look on his face and stretching his back upright within the chair, Fel spaced out. He’d already seen the ritual diagram. If Angus wasn’t prepared to speak further on the topic of his ritual, there was nothing to bother about it.
…*Ahem*
Fel came back to himself at a small cough from the stage. ...How long had he been waiting? He stood, for what felt like the thousandth -83rd he corrected himself- time today. He’d been counting.
Eying Angus, whose foot practically vibrated with impatience, Fel stepped down to the stage. On review, the ritual appeared solid. It deflected the soft mana probing Fel sent at it and a visual check of the lines confirmed that each connected. Width-measuring the limiter lines confirmed that they each matched with those in the book.
Stretching upwards from where he’d been crouching, Fel meandered his way back to his desk.
There has been, he thought, entirely too much getting up, walking over, crouching down, and moving back in today’s activities.
Seating himself, Fel gave Angus the ‘all-clear’ to begin.
Angus stepped up to the Caster’s Circle, jumping over the lines with a slight grin. Fel’s brow furrowed at the reckless behavior, passing a hand in front of his eyes. When he removed the hand again, Angus had already begun. A bright yellow line connected the young man to the circle at his feet, its length pulsating. The lines lit up, spreading from his position to the furthest edges of the ritual circle.
It was not, as one might expect, a uniform process. Limiters restricted the flow of mana to activate sections of the ritual at a later time or with lower mana density. The reagents too created a cascading glow across the surface of the floor. The result was a ritual circle that lit up like a splotchy web.
Fel shrugged to himself. Function over form, I guess.
Over the next 5 minutes, Angus appeared to painstakingly feed his mana through the ritual. Twice, Fel saw him fumble the process before recovering. Neither mistake was enough to disrupt the casting. Angus wore a look of intense concentration, one that spoke of will that would not be denied.
Fel glowered throughout the process. The mistakes would’ve been acceptable if Angus had been casting a ritual beyond his skills. Fel was aware, however, that such was not remotely the case.
Angus, he was sure, was entirely capable of casting a ritual of VoidSpace-Portaler’s Crystal’s level without flaw. For the young man to be struggling with it, however, indicated that he hadn’t even attempted a dry-run with the ritual.
Fel’s certainty was because, as with most things, ritual casting grew easier with practice. The difference was even more pronounced when you worked to familiarize yourself with a single ritual, the process much like muscle memory.
Fel shook his head again. Angus Macormand’s exam had been one frustrating disappointment after another. Where this student of his had left his sense of preparation, Fel just didn’t know.
Forget lunch, Fel decided, we’ll get together to talk at the end of class today.
He’d take the young man with him to the Collegium’s food hall and they’d get to the bottom of this mess.
The crystal orb sparked.
The light around Angus began to fade, the effect spreading across the circle, its excess mana depleted. The line connecting him to the Caster’s Circle dimmed and was quickly snapped off.
He looks a bit woozy, might need some more practice in expending his mana.
A check of the ritual itself indicated that it had stopped at 12% of Angus’s mana capacity. That would be… Fel checked the paper in front of him. With Angus’s mana capacity, that’d be scraping the boundary of the capital’s environmental pressure.
Looking back to the circle, Fel watched a wide grin appearing on Angus’s face. Eyes glued to the still-shimmering orb, the fool took a step forward.
“Stop! Don’t move!” Fel shouted. He shot to his feet, eyes wide, arms grasping forwards. An incoherent voice in his panicked mind unfroze for a brief moment. 84th, it told him.
Angus let out what sounded like a frustrated sigh, and visibly forced a smile back on his face. He turned to Fel directly. “Yes, sir?” The material under his right shoe crunched as he shifted. With its connection broken, the limiter underfoot snapped out of existence. Surging, mana that remained smashed into the ritual’s focus chamber. The pressure, slamming into the orb during its final moments of formation, overwhelmed it.
Fel watched in horror when Angus twisted to face him. He heard the crunch and saw the crystal orb begin to crack. With a flash, the crystal shattered, the light blinding him. There was a thud, and he felt himself fall back into his chair.
Amelia had her back turned to the stage and was chatting quietly when the ritual shattered. Her mana had ticked its way back above environmental pressure as she’d rested in the stands. Still, she felt her head spin as she whirled around towards the flash that had illuminated her friends’ faces. Towards her brother’s panicked shout.
In the center of the ritual, was a rift. An unstable portal, the incomplete result of Angus’s endeavor. Its shape fluctuated, edges ripping into the surrounding space, only to retreat once more. The rift’s center was no larger than a man in size, the cracks around it growing and shrinking wildly in the instant that she watched. The area beyond was empty, a void. Mana was being sucked into the gap, like water down a drain.
In a glance, she took it all in, before ripping her eyes to the falling body on stage.
Angus was half turned towards the instructor’s table. Shards of crystal had shredded his body. The shards quivered, embedded in the stage. Embedded in him. Angus Macormand didn’t even have time to gasp, the life leaving his eyes before his body had known to fall. It hit the stage was a sickening crack and the tinkling of crystals colliding with stone.
The screaming raised in volume. It’d started with the explosion, crystal shards escaping the stage’s boundaries to hit the spectators. More students joined the cacophony as they turned to injured friends or focused on the stage.
Amelia Fel turned to face Noah, eyes wide and panicked. He’d know what to do. Her brother, [Ritualist] of the Collegium that he was, always had a plan. He was always prepared. He’d be shouting out instructions. She waited for him to take charge.
What does he need? What is he waiting for? Why isn’t he moving to help?
Amelia sat, her bottom hitting the floor with a ‘thud’ as she understood. Her eyes didn’t leave her brother’s face, even as her body was jostled by panicked students. The sounds they made were muted, their movements blurred around her.
At some point, the rift blinked closed. Its edges folded back and reality restored itself without so much as a fracture to show for its troubles. The mana in the air settled down, thinner than it had started, but regaining its potency.
Soon after, Collegium staff flooded into the room. A fast-acting student had run to retrieve them immediately following the ordeal.
Amelia didn’t notice.
She stared at her brother. His eyes were wide from across the gap. He’d broken his glasses, the left side lens was shattered beyond repair. His body was slumped -it was always slumped- across the stone desk she just knew he hated. It didn’t look tall enough, and he always complained when he had to borrow a desk. She chuckled, tears streaming down her face.
She stared at the crystal shard. It was a beautiful crystal, glowing lightly in the dimly lit room. She’d seen the orb before the ritual began, a glimmering treasure.
She stared at the crystal shard that sat with her brother.
Embedded in his eye.
