Over the following two weeks, the school held its end-of-the-year exams. Much like the exam week at the end of the first term of the year, ordinary classes were suspended, and instead, each year had blocks during which exams in specific subjects were held.

Not that I held any exams in the middle of the year. I much preferred to base my grades on my classroom observations, with the exam at the end of the year being something of a baseline. Especially for the Basic Magic Theory classes, which didn’t have strict requirements for what students needed to know at the end of the year. They just needed to be exposed to what wielding magic, in any way, shape or form, entailed and to give them an idea of what they might want to do later on.

To ensure they make an informed choice at the end of their third year, basically.

The first week passed with me administrating a written exam for all my students, both Basic Magic Theory and Necromancy. I had written these tests so many times by now, that there were essentially just copies of tests I had given out in prior years.

It was the practical exams in the second week that were most interesting to me. For the first-year students, that meant showing off their light bulb spell designs and implementation. For the necromancy students, that meant showing off the skills they had learned and honed over the year, if they were willing. After all, the practical exams weren’t obligatory and didn’t affect their grades by much.

They were mostly there as a bit of fun for me, as I very much enjoyed watching people do their best to use their knowledge to cast spells they had come up with. And not in a snobbish ‘I’m superior to them’ kind of way. No, I genuinely loved seeing the light in people’s eyes when they found their way to use magic.

On Volundsday – the fourth day of the week and the middle of the work week – during the second week of the exams, I was seated at the far end of the main hall, up on a dais where the first-year teachers would sit during the opening banquet that was held the Onsday before the start of the school year. For the next two school hours – each being one and a half normal hours – the first-year come in and display their workings, whether that be just the theoretical, written-down version or the casted version.

Fluminix had made herself comfortable in a quiet corner, where she nibbled on something I’d taken from the kitchen on our way down here. It didn’t look like the infant dragon had any interest in what I would be doing today, as her back was turned to the hall.

I got up as the first one approached me with some minor signs of nervousness, clutching a piece of paper in her hands.

“Theory or display?” I asked rather curtly.

Tidir flinched slightly. “Um, I would like to give it a try… if you don’t mind…?”

I raised a confused eyebrow. “Of course not. Go ahead. I’ll give you some privacy.”

I threw up a ward that would make the both of us invisible from the rest in the mostly-empty hall, before I gestured for her to go ahead.

She concentrated hard, to the point of sweating, and a small, rather ordinary light bulb appeared in front of them, flickering and wavering with lapses in her concentration.

“Hm, well done,” I said, as I held out my hand for the paper in their hand, which obviously contained her spell formation. “I’ll be sure to note the extra effort you’ve shown today in my final grade for you.”

She let out a breath of relief, before walking away, out of the main hall, with a noticeable bounce in her step. Something that irked me for some odd reason.

Most of the spells the first-years displayed were much the same, just the very basic versions of the spell to ensure they could actually cast it. They always seemed to think that being able to cast the spell they came up with was more important than creating a spell formation.

There were some exceptions, though. Case in point, Shosana, the same girl that had me doing weird poses during their ritual magic lesson.

“Hey there, not-miss Morgana!” she greeted me cheerfully, as she handed me the paper with her spell formation.

As I checked it over, I had to work hard to suppress both my desire to sigh and to roll my eyes. “Do you want to give it a try, or… am I supposed to test it?”

She hummed thoughtfully with a tilt of her head. “I think I’d prefer it if you did it.”

“This isn’t about what you prefer,” I said with a frown. “Do you think you can cast it?”

“I don’t think so, no,” she answered unhelpfully, with a shake of her head.

“Is this going to blow up if I were to attempt to cast it?” I asked sternly, knowing full well it wouldn’t but wanting to get some seriousness from the girl about this.

She crossed her arms and pouted. “I did my homework perfectly. Why are you being so mean today?”

I blinked back at her without realising it, because… had I? I cleared my throat and centred myself. “Alright, I’ll give it a try then.”

I put up the privacy ward again, before I cast the spell exactly as she had written it down. Right in front of my face, about a handspan away from me, a riot of colours in the form of a ball appeared. The rainbow-coloured ball seemed to spin around, but in reality, it was the colours themselves that moved across the surface of the ball. They even flared out of the ball at random, making it seem like it was a multicoloured sun.

I closed my eyes to the blinding display of colour. “Perhaps making it appear somewhere other than right in front of your face would be more optimal? You wouldn’t want your vision impaired by a spell that’s supposed to be used to see in the dark, now, would you?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” she asked with what I knew to be a shit-eating grin.

I once more suppressed the desire to sigh, as I dismissed the spell. “In any case, well done. It’s one of the most creative light bulb spells I’ve seen in a long while.”

She was practically beaming as she headed off.

Aziza and Hareon, the normally unfazed dragonkin girl and ever-so-serious harekin boy from the same class as Shosana, approached me at the same time and handed me their spell formations with a stink-eye thrown towards each other.

“I take it both of you want to display the spell yourselves?” I asked rhetorically, as I looked their papers over. “And presumably at the same time?”

“No, I want to go first,” they both said at the same time, before glaring at each other.

I sighed, as I’d hoped their rivalry would soften over the year, instead it had only intensified. “That settles it. You can both display it at the same time. And no arguing.”

They looked chastised for a moment, before they both nodded stoically. And cast the exact same version of the spell.

I had to stifle a laugh as I saw both light bulbs. Both had opted to display something that was close to what I’d shown in class, a warm fireplace kind of light. Both let it float above their dominant shoulder. Left for Aziza, right for Hareon. Which meant that both balls hung between them, but even that wasn’t enough to stop them from facing each other with an accusatory glare.

I held up a hand. “Okay, no need for that. It’s more normal for two or more students to show off the same or similar design than it is for a student to come up with a completely unique one. That doesn’t mean either of you copied the other.

“Let’s just call it great minds think alike, alright?”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, as they both turned their glares towards me. Before they caught themselves and sheepishly looked away. “Sorry…”

I nodded, satisfied and ready to move on to the other waiting students. “Well done, both of you. Don’t let your feelings for each other cloud your pursuits.”

Others, like Eweleanor’s troublesome nephew Woolfred, just walked up to me and handed me their spell formations to check, not really interested in seeing it on display. Though, the sheepkin boy did it with a lot more grumbling than the rest.

As I had close to a thousand students who wanted to hand in their extra assignments, naturally the exam ran over. Which was fine, as the next two blocks were dedicated to my fourth-, fifth- and sixth-year necromancy students, who together counted for not even a hundred students. It was a sad reality that necromancy just wasn’t as popular as it used to be. Back in my own student days.

Not that I ever was a student per se, as I was tutored at home.

As I kept busying myself inspecting light bulb spell after light bulb spell, a handful of my necromancy students trickled in. A single one of my sixth-year students, whom I shared a nod with before he went to work defleshing the wolf carcass I’d put out for him. A trio of my fifth-years students greeted me, before they too got to work on their respective carcasses, raccoons for them.

The remaining trio were all from the fourth-year necromancy class. With the aspiring necromancer, Kumbe, and the wishful thinking necroherder, Tereza, being the expected attendees, whereas Aoi was someone I didn’t expect to see but definitely should have. Just like myself at their ages, she would do just about anything for the sake of learning something new in whatever field interested her.

“Good morning, Morgana-sensei,” the inquisitive human girl greeted me respectfully.

“Hello,” Kumbe followed suit, but much more casually.

“Morning,” Tereza finished off the greetings of the trio.

I merely spared them a nod, as I was mainly focused on the latest light bulb spell presented to me, and pointed over to a desk to the side. “You’ll find one mouse each over there. Just to remind you, you’ll be primarily graded on effort. Why effort? Because the time limit poses an unfair disadvantage for some. How do I grade something like effort? Experience. Now, you’d best get started.”

They said something in return, but I wasn’t paying attention. I had my hands full with the first-years, so I could only keep a vague eye on their progress.

Each of them tackled the task differently. Aoi worked methodically, carefully cutting away the flesh from the bone. Kumbe worked just a tad too hastily, showing their impatience to get to reanimating their mouse. Whereas Tereza approached it with equal amounts of enthusiasm and reverence, as if reanimating the deceased was something akin to creating a masterwork.

As the first-years’ practical exam was slowly drawing to an end, students from different years started to trickle in to use the main hall. They sat themselves down at the various empty and unused tables and took out their books, turning the large hall into a study room.

Kumbe was the first to try and reanimate his skeleton mouse. The catkin drew out their spell formation on their worktable, before placing the bones in the centre of it, each placed roughly where they ought to be if the mouse was still alive. Once that was done, they traced the lines of the spell formation with their hand, before ending it by invoking the name they had given to their reanimation spell. The end result was…

“Not bad for your first reanimation,” I said, after I had walked over to them to observe. “With a bit more care, the bones would have held their strength better. And some of the bones are misplaced, but it shouldn’t be a hindrance.”

They looked both elated and frustrated at my comments, but they ultimately settled on grateful. “Thank you. I’ll try to do better next time.”

I nodded and dismissed them in the same moment that I destroyed their reanimated mouse with a burst of light, before I moved on to the next student in need of grading.

Tereza opted for something slightly different, she made a small, individual ritual to summon and bind a spirit. Just like Kumbe, the human girl drew out her spell formation on her worktable, but she placed out different components in their respective circles. Only after that, did she carefully place all of the mouse’s bones in the central circle.

I watched with curiosity as she went on to dress the reanimated skeleton with the pelt of the mouse, which she had kept mostly intact. “Not to dismiss your proclivities, but you do know this isn’t necessary for passing the extra assignment, right?”

She nodded, whilst remaining concentrated on dressing the skeleton. “I know. I just don’t want it to be cold or feel naked.”

I merely hummed, before I decided to walk away from her, feeling just a bit sad for her as I would destroy it before she could leave the main hall with it.

Aoi was the last to finish of the trio of fourth-years, just before the allotted time had run out and I’d finished with all the first-years. Unsurprisingly, she had the most theoretical and researched approach of them, having made ample use of the school extensive library to find snippets of ancient spell casting knowledge from her homeland. Methods and ways to summon and bind spirits that had been lost centuries ago.

The resulting spell was somewhere partway between the standard spell casting method that Kumbe had used and the ritual that Tereza had.

“Are you sure you don’t want to become a necromancer?” I asked, as I admired her reanimated mouse. It was frankly perfect.

“Whilst I think learning more about necromancy would help me, I don’t think being a necromancer is the path for me,” she answered. “I don’t think I would have chosen to study necromancy if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re teaching it, sensei. Your knowledge of spirit binding is invaluable.”

“You know, I might not have been this knowledgeable without having learned about the kami of your homeland,” I offered, as it was the truth.

She turned to me and nodded resolutely. “Which is precisely why.”

I gave her a small, proud smile as I huffed a little, before destroying her work with yet another burst of light. With that, I was officially done with the exams I held, ending them on a high.

Now, if only I didn’t have the nagging feeling something was up with Seren.