Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 ~ First Class, then Work

In Physics class, Marcus Delaluci returned the undergrads’ latest project submissions. Most had been mediocre project ideas that could squeak by, but one was exemplary and another . . . as far as he could see, impossible.

He walked up to where Odessa was seated and gave her a winning smile.

”Here you go, Miss Divine. Quite an ambitious project and one worthy of exploration,” he said to the black-haired sorceress.

Odessa fluttered her long black lashes at him as Dahlia, who was sitting a few desks behind her, rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.

”Why, thank you, Mr. Delaluci,” Odessa replied, pursing her lips slightly.

For a moment, Marcus had a very dirty image concerning those lips swimming in his head. He cleared his throat.

“You’re welcome. I will be mentioning your project during class today,” he said and Odessa beamed at him.

Marcus continued handing out papers until he got to Dahlia. He sighed as he held out her paper.

”Miss Joiner, physics is a science and we deal in science, not in fantasy,” he said to her as she took the paper, noting the red marks all over it and flushing. “That isn’t a workable theory based in fact . . . it’s fiction. Choose something else for a project. Something that at least has some small chance of giving you concrete results.”

Turned around in her seat, Odessa laughed as Dahlia turned a deeper crimson. A few chortles accompanied her tinkling chuckles.

”Yes, Mr. Delaluci,” she murmured.

Marcus walked away and Dahlia sighed as she looked down at her paper. She didn’t understand how no one else saw the possibilities that she did concerning Psychic Transport. It was a fascinating subject and one that needed to be explored.

Psychic Transport was a magical ability that some sorcerers developed over time. Anyone with this power was not limited to entering or leaving the magical realm at sunrise and sunset via pools of standing natural water. A sorcerer could visualize where he wished to be, adjust his perception of reality and physically appear there.

However, not many could do it, or were willing to try because there was no way a person could be taught this ability. It had to be developed in a solitary manner and there could be disastrous results if focus was lost during the transport. A sorcerer could end up trapped in limbo, unable to find a purchase with which to continue. Or he could materialize in an environment that was decidedly hostile. There were stories of sorcerers being drowned by materializing underwater, falling to their deaths because they appeared in mid-air, and being burned to a crisp when ending up inside of active volcanoes.

There was even a story about a sorceress who died because she appeared on the face of the moon. Urban legend or not, Psychic Travel was extremely dangerous. Even the slightest disruption of focus disturbed the ethers and in that delicate place between realities, an occurrence one could equate to a pin drop could have the tumultuous effect of an earthquake, throwing a person completely off course.

Anyone could attempt it of course, but it wasn’t advisable. There is a saying among sorcerers, and that is “You can’t create what you don’t know.”

Sorcerers cannot just “do” magic or create material objects out of thin air. They have to have extensive knowledge of exactly how a thing is put together or a process works before they can tackle it. Because of this requirement, all sorcerers are studious, studying quite a number of mundane and sometimes outdated subjects. Yes, they do have the power of creation, but it has to be developed. The strength of a sorcerer’s magical abilities is in direct correlation with how much he studies and learns the world around him.

One of the best ways to identify a sorcerer is by his or her educational accomplishments. Most have a number of degrees and doctorates in a wide variety of subjects, and show no sign of slowing down once they’ve obtained them, moving on to another area of study. The magical realm has no true educational facilities, so every sorcerer is educated in the mundane world like everyone else. The Finklenook Institute of Higher Magical Learning and Research focused primarily on research and was the only institution of its kind in the magical world. Anyone who attended Finklenook had at least two full degrees, exemplary grades and was well-versed in the science of research and experimentation.

Dahlia had degrees in Physics, Mathematics and Biology, and was actually working toward her doctorates in all three, but in increments. The project she turned in to Marcus was a theory that Psychic Travel could not just be used to move between realities, but through time itself. Hypothetically, Dahlia believed a skilled sorcerer well-versed in Psychic Transport could travel to the past as well as the future, although there were inherent dangers involved in venturing into a reality that has not yet been created.

Although Marcus understood the concept of what Dahlia was trying to prove, there were two major problems associated with her researching her claims and gaining concrete results. The first was, Dahlia herself could not psychically transport, so was unable to personally document her findings. Secondly, since she couldn’t transport, she would have to then find someone who could and who was willing to risk his or her life for the sake of research. This was highly unlikely.

Of course, Dahlia could construct diagrams and mathematical models that supported her claims, but without physical proof that could be verified by direct observation, it would be a waste of time. Finklenook required concrete results, not diagrams and models.

As did educator Marcus Delaluci. As shallow as he was concerning most things, the sorcerer was quite dedicated to his field and its continued advancement in the realm of magic. Dahlia’s theory was actually quite fascinating, but the implementation of researching it would be faulty at best. And if the research was faulty, then the results would also be flawed. Again, a waste of time and talent.

Marcus returned to the front of the class and eyed the undergrads as they went over their paperwork.

”Most of you have chosen projects that are . . . can we say . . . a rehashing of old theories,” Marcus said with a resigned air, “but the fact is retesting theories can open up overlooked aspects not found the first hundred times . . .”

It was easy to see the educator was less than enthusiastic about this, but that was because he would have to read over the findings of each project and knew that he would have read them all before. Being an educator could be mind-numbing at times, but it paid the bills.

”However,” he said, suddenly smiling as he looked toward Odessa, who straightened in her seat importantly, “I was pleasantly surprised by Miss Divine’s theory of Perpetual Sustaining of Magical Spells. As you all know, the continuance of any magical spell requires constant focus and application, or they weaken and degrade over time. True, a well-applied spell by a well-versed sorcerer can last a few centuries if the power is there, but still eventually it meets the fate of lesser spells.”

The undergrads listened, even Dahlia interested despite herself.

”Miss Divine has put forth the theory that a spell could possibly be maintained until world’s end if it received a constant influx of energy from an outside source,” he continued.

Dahlia snorted. Odessa was right, of course . . . but everyone already knew that the lack of energy was the problem with maintaining all spells. What was so special about that?

”Miss Divine has identified a potential source of constant energy and will be attempting to harness the ocean tide in such a manner that it will provide power to a number of low-level latchings.”

Latchings were security spells used to protect objects.

Dahlia blinked, then looked at Odessa who had a smug look on her pretty face as other undergrads murmured in approval. The ocean was always in motion and as such, was truly a source of constant energy. If Odessa actually managed to make any headway in harnessing the ever-changing tides for spells, she would be remembered in history as a groundbreaking sorceress.

Dahlia’s eyes narrowed as envy grabbed hold of her. That bitch. That brilliant bitch.

Marcus smiled at Odessa again, then addressed the rest of the class.

”Now this,” he said in closing, “is a project that can have very positive applications and worthy of research. It is creative, innovative and hasn’t been warmed over a thousand times. The rest of you could learn quite a bit from Miss Divine,” he said, his violet eyes resting on Dahlia, who was scowling.

”Thank you, Mr. Delaluci,” Odessa said again, looking around the class with satisfaction as her groupies congratulated her for being such a mover and a shaker. Dahlia could have just exploded.

”I’ve got to find my center,” she said to herself, willing the jealousy down that was threatening to boil over. She envisioned the churning lake in the midst of storm and willed it smooth as the elements blustered all around it.

There. She had her peace again.

As long as she didn’t look at Odessa.

At the end of class, Marcus called Odessa up to his desk.

”Again, I’d like to congratulate you on finding such a challenging and potentially groundbreaking project, Miss Divine,” Marcus said to her, carefully keeping his eyes on her face and not her cleavage.

”Thank you, Mr. Delaluci,” Odessa replied with a bright smile.

Marcus studied her for a moment.

”Perhaps you would like a bit of assistance when you actually travel to the shore, Miss Divine. I would be happy to work with you if that is the case,” he said to the sorceress smoothly.

Odessa blinked at him. Mr. Delaluci was a brilliant sorcerer and quite skilled. With his help, she’d surely be able to make some headway in harnessing the power of the tide. But it would probably take several days if not weeks to actually make a connection. They were starting from scratch after all, and this was going to be elemental magic. Not easy at all.

”I’m afraid that it’s going to take a few days to even research how to link the latchings with the tides, Mr. Delaluci. It would take up a lot of your time and I really don’t want to impose,” she said.

Marcus smiled.

”How can it be an imposition if I’ve offered my services freely, Miss Divine? This project is important and I would like to be onboard,” he said to her.

Not to mention on top.

Odessa studied him a bit shrewdly, wondering if there was more to this than Mr. Delaluci was saying. The sorceress was well aware of his reputation as a philanderer, but she was no smitten undergrad. If Marcus Delaluci did have his eye on her, he was going to have to work to get her clearly in his sights. They were two manipulative people after all. Odessa had no problem with the possibility of sleeping with the sorcerer. Marcus was quite handsome. But what mattered the most to Odessa Divine was if she did agree to sleep with him, what would be in it for her?

Well, she’d cross that moat when she came to it.

”I’d be delighted to have you onboard, Mr. Delaluci,” she said to him with a bit of a purr in her voice that made Marcus’ violet eyes telescope to black for a moment.

It was a reactionary widening which occurred when something excited him, the irises retracting and pupil expanding. They also widened when he was in dark areas or at night. He had excellent night vision, another lesser gift from his ancestor.

”I’ll keep you posted,” Odessa said, turning and walking away, Marcus’ eyes locked securely to her buttocks as they rolled toward the door.

”Damn,” he breathed, then cleared his throat, adjusted his tie and collected his paperwork. He headed for his office, entered, removed his suit jacket, loosened his tie and took out his wand. Walking behind his desk and sitting down, he unlatched his lower left-hand drawer and took out a plastic baggy of sticky, nearly blonde marijuana. He opened it, stuck his nose in and inhaled appreciatively.

”Oh yes,” Marcus sighed, putting the baggie down on the top of his desk and removing a pack of ez-wider rolling paper from the drawer. He pulled out a couple of sheets, setting three aside and folding the bottom of one square sheet, poking in the ends so it formed a kind of pocket. Carefully he sprinkled a generous amount of weed into the paper, some sticking to his fingers so he had to scrape it off. He then folded the paper over and over until he formed a cigarette, and licked the edge to seal it off.

He drew the moist joint under his nose.

”Oh yes, it’s sticky weed time,” he said with a smile, sticking the joint behind his ear and rolling up another.

Artimus had no idea of the buzz he was about to miss.

******************************


On the furthest outskirts of the Finklenook grounds, Dahlia had just finished her preliminary exercises, Gunther and Gregory watching her silently as she ebbed and flowed, her movements smooth and unhurried. It looked more like a dance than a workout as the sorceress prepared herself for battle, flexing and contorting her body, slipping, twisting and seemingly knotting her entire frame up as she did her routines. She wore a heavy leather vest over her t-shirt as did her two companions.

Fellow Protectors Alita Vasquez, Andre Washington and Paresh Singh walked up, also dressed for battle in vests, t-shirts, fatigues and boots, their faces grim. Alita’s long black hair was wrapped in a bun much like Dahlia’s and a wicked dagger was sheathed at her side. Her dark eyes rested on her companions.

”Is everyone ready?” she asked in a no nonsense manner with a soft Spanish accent. She was the leader on this mission. Leadership rotated among the Protectors from mission to mission.

”As ready as can be,” Gregory replied, his brown eyes hard as he patted the scabbard tied to his side. He was ready to take out the clerics with great malice.

Dahlia said nothing, her hazel eyes cool as Alita looked her over and nodded with approval. Unlike the others, Dahlia didn’t have her weapon visible. She conjured her sword when it was actually needed. Carrying weapons went against her Aikido training. Only her wand was visible, tucked in the waist of her fatigues.

Ailita examined the rest of the Protectors. She looked down at Andre’s feet, frowning slightly.

”Andre, lace that boot up better. We don’t need you tripping over your laces when a cleric is charging you,” she snapped at the black sorcerer.

Andre looked down and saw one lace was indeed trailing the ground. He bent and quickly tied it, Paresh grinning at him. Maria scowled at the sorcerer.

”There’s nothing to grin about, Paresh,” she growled at him. “This is a serious matter.”

Paresh immediately looked quite sober and bowed ingratiatingly, giving her a standard, genie-like flourish of his hand. It was quite good, considering he was wearing his standard blood-red turban. He always wore a red turban when facing clerics.

”Yes, mem sahib,” he said in a stereotypical, lilting, song-song voice.

”Cut it out,” Alita hissed.

Paresh grinned again, his teeth startlingly white against his smooth brown complexion. The Indian sorcerer usually spoke in perfect English without any kind of accent. He was just being a smartass, as usual.

”All right, let’s mount up,” Alita instructed, pulling out her wand.

The others did the same.

Dahlia once again conjured the snow white stallion, which reared and pawed the air dramatically, whinnying.

He really was a show-off.

Panesh conjured a stallion also, smaller than Dahlia’s with a reddish coat and wearing a bright feathered plume on his head.

Andre conjured his “steed,” hopping on a motorcycle and gunning it. Oddly, it made no noise. But then again, silence was important and he was a sorcerer after all, with degrees in Physics and Technical Design.

Andre didn’t do “animals.” Raised in the Bronx, he was a city boy.

Gunther conjured his steed. It was an enormous black Clydesdale. Well, Gunther was pretty enormous himself and needed a large horse.

Dahlia rolled her eyes when Gregory created his steed.

It was Snarle, one of his own biological designs.

Snarle was an enormous wolf, big enough to ride. He was gray, shaggy and wore battle armor with spikes on the chest. His fangs were over-large and he was designed to absolutely HATE anything in cleric robes. He was also the first thing the clerics usually went for, since he charged them immediately. He had never managed to make it through a battle since Gregory created him, being dissolved within minutes of the fray. Still, Gregory conjured him almost religiously, although once in a while he surprised them by riding a rather ordinary unicorn.

Snarle snarled at his creator as Gregory mounted up and patted him on his furry neck.

”And a merry hello to you too, Snarle,” he said to the wolf affectionately, “let’s see if you can manage to get a cleric or two down before you dissolve. Now, do you smell anything?”

The others watched as Snarle lifted his nose and scented the air. They were rewarded with a low growl of negation.

”We’re going to have to search for them,” Alita said, reining her own horse around using her heels to direct it.

It was a spotted Appaloosa, without bridle or saddle. Alita leaned low and gripped his mane.

”Let’s go,” she ordered, taking off and leading the group toward the North Woods.

******************************

Standing on a distant rise and watching the group through a pair of binoculars stood Artimus Rogue and his familiar Steede. The educator wore all black. Black tunic, black pants, and black riding boots. Black riding gloves covered his hands. A long black cloak finished the presentation. His dark brown hair was pulled back in a short ponytail tied with a black leather thong and he held a crossbow in one hand, a quiver of arrows strapped securely to his back

If Artimus had wings, he’d make a fair Angel of Death.

His horse Steede was girded in black leather with silver pointed studs that covered the animal’s strong chest. Black leather socks, also wickedly studded, wrapped around all four of his fetlocks above his shiny hooves. The sharp points glinted and he wore no bit in his mouth, just a kind of harness high up on his muzzle to which the reins were attached, leaving his mouth free. Artimus lowered his binoculars as the Protectors set out.

”Artimus, we weren’t invited,” Steede said to his master, tossing his head.

”Anytime clerics enter the magical realm, it’s an invitation to kill them,” the sorcerer said grimly, hanging the crossbow on the saddlehorn and swinging up into the saddle. “I don’t need to be a card-carrying member of the Protectors to do it either. Now let’s go, but don’t get too close. I don’t want a confrontation with them.”

Steede took off at a trot, following the group into the forest.

********************************

A/N: As you can see, sorcerers have the ability to create both animals and machines, but their abilities to use magic in this manner relies on their personal knowledge of the topic. To create an animal, they must be well-versed in animal biology.  It's the same for any type of creation. For machines, they have to know physics as well as mechanics and so forth.  Magical ability is nothing without knowledge in this world. I wanted a world that stresses learning and education as a force.  Because in our world, it really is. Thanks for reading.

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