Burn the Professor at the Stake

"The undergraduate intern? They haven't come yet."

Iley tilted his head as he said it.

"But why is an intern coming at all? This isn't even the recruitment period, is it? Trina hasn't been here two months."

"I-it's been more than two months, though..."

Trina's objection was as timid as the rest of her, and neither Iley nor I spared it a glance. The news that the intern still had not arrived put a crease between my brows.

"Already skipping out."

As a rule, anyone hoping to enter graduate school contacted the lab they wanted after graduation and secured permission to enroll. A lab like Elia's, though—strong results, and famous for them—was hotly sought even among undergraduates. Wait until after you graduated to make contact, and you were already too late. If you wanted in, you spent your fourth year interning in that lab until they remembered your face.

"We went out of our way to take him outside the recruitment window, and the prince has already thrown any sense of time in the trash. Tch. Iley, if he isn't here by this afternoon, just cut him."

"Whoa, a prince is coming as an intern? Which one—the Second Prince? The Third?"

"No idea. The bastard wrote the professor a letter and got himself in that way. I only found out he was a prince yesterday."

"That's not an intern. That's a goldtern. You're really going to fire a person like that over being a little late?"

"What's to like about a man who's late on his first day? Cut him. And if he throws a fit, send him to the pantry. I'll interview him myself."

"Great. Another body to clean up..."

I ignored Iley's mutter and went back to my desk. Papers, an inkwell, and a quill lay in a hopeless tangle, and ancient tomes crammed with every sort of magical formula were stacked into a tower. The space allotted to me was not even as wide as my shoulders. From long habit I dug a stick of solid caffeine out of the drawer and chewed it hard, then opened the manuscript I meant to review before the next conference.

"Kysha, have you tried this experiment?"

In the seat beside mine she was nodding off even as her quill kept moving. She shook her head without a word. If a doctoral student in her one hundred and forty-first year had never attempted it, then it was an experiment our lab had never run at all.

"Do we even have the equipment, then? The professor wants the experiment finished by next week so she can mark it up."

"No equipment... The Boiling Point Dynamic Shift Formula is Professor Spraus's lab's to handle, I'd think..."

"Ugh. I really don't feel like going all the way out there."

Even within the same graduate school, some labs never crossed paths, depending on where their buildings stood. Professor Spraus's was one of them. He had once been Elia's student, and the moment he was appointed professor he raised his research building in the spot farthest from ours, for no reason other than that he did not wish to run into Elia coming and going.

"When the whales fight, the shrimp's back is what splits. Go out there and back, and the whole day is gone."

"Whales...? Jin... Professor Spraus is a sardine, not a whale... Just call on the Communication Orb and tell him to send the equipment..."

"Even so, if I fire off a request for cooperation at a professor that bluntly..."

"It'll be fine... If it weighs on you, shall I speak to Spraus myself...?"

A chill ran the length of my spine, and I shook my head at once. Of everyone at Eleanor Magic University, Kysha was the second oldest, and in years of service she outranked even Elia. There were reasons she had remained a doctoral student for a hundred and forty-one years. Her first professor had died a natural death, and so had her second. The third exploited her for more than fifty years, then was thrown out of the university when a plagiarism charge finally stuck. She drifted without a harbor, and drifted on, until the last lab she came to rest in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was Elia's. Kysha had already been pursuing her doctorate back when Professor Spraus was still a babe at the breast.

"Just say the word... Jin. If I call, Spraus will come at once..."

"Ah—no. I'll go myself. It's been a while. It'll be nice to see Professor Spraus."

For the sake of peace in the graduate school, I decided to sacrifice myself. I snatched up the manuscript and hurried out of the lab.

Cold air sank deep into my lungs the moment I stepped outside. I briefly considered going back for a coat, but the public levitation tram was cutting it close, so I made for the station. The magic university was so vast that any real distance meant the tram; follow the rails that laced the grounds like veins, and you could reach your destination within thirty minutes. I boarded the one bound for Professor Spraus's research building.

"Hoo..."

A white breath spilled from my mouth. A tram wrought of floating stone met no resistance and ran fast, which was pleasant enough, but it had to be kept cold at all times, and the cabin was chill enough for frost to bloom along the walls. Should I have brought the coat after all?

The tram lurched into motion before the thought could settle. Once it departed, it did not stop until it arrived. I gave up and turned to the manuscript I had brought. The subject was the one Elia had been researching of late.

Succeed, and next year's Kellimond Award for Magitech Engineers was as good as Elia's. The trouble, of course, was that the formula was not actually working.

A screech of metal, and I looked up from the page to find we had already arrived. This was Mount Grace, where Professor Spraus's research building stood.

The instant I stepped off the tram, sunlight fractured into hexagons and poured over my head. As if that were not enough, artificial lamps stood along the street in a colonnade, blazing.

"Ugh."

Too bright. Trailing after Elia had left me used to a research building sunk in dark. I understood why Professor Spraus carried on this way, but light harsh enough to pain an ordinary human called for some restraint. Elia was never going to set foot in his building anyway.

I was still frowning, waiting for my eyes to adjust, when a racket rose from the square.

"Waaaaah!"

"Burn him! Burn him at the stake!"

The furious cries rang from every side. I turned toward the press of bodies and found students of the magic university packed into the square, deep in a protest. At their center a professor lashed to a cross was pouring sweat and bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"You lunatics! Aren't you going to untie me? Do you all want to be expelled?!"

"Go ahead and expel us! You can't run this place without us anyway!"

"Agh! You little brat. What is wrong with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kids these days?! Hey—hey! Why are you lighting that? It's hot! I said it's hot!"

His face crumpled as he kicked at the heat climbing from beneath his feet. The sight pulled a hollow laugh out of me.

"What is this. Am I dreaming?"

Professor Spraus was being burned at the stake.

Students at the magic university had a standard uniform matched to year and department. Calling it a uniform was generous: a wizard's conical hat, poulaines needled to a point at the toe, a cloak in some drab color, and a badge. Students at the age when appearance mattered most were never going to wear the whole ensemble. They went about in ordinary clothes with the badge pinned on, which was how I knew at a glance that the crowd in the square was first- and second-years of the elemental magic track.

"Stop right there."

Even I could not walk past a professor being burned alive. I clapped and drew their eyes.

"Who are you—hk!"

A boy at the rear, waving a torch, caught sight of me and clapped a hand over his mouth.

"M-Mr. Jin?!"

Of course it had to be the one with the lungs. His shout rolled across the square, and silence dropped over it. Every gaze swung to me.

This is a little much.

"No way...! I-it's really Mr. Jin...!"

"Move! I want to see him in person too...!"

Listening to them murmur among themselves was starting to heat my face. I was not a monkey in a zoo. Wearing an awkward look, I pointed at the ground with my index finger.

Heat flared across my fingertip, and a stem of blue lightning sank into the earth. The bolts unraveled like thread and shocked the students in the square from the soles of their feet up. Under my direction, they stepped aside and cleared a path.

"M-my body's moving on its own!"

"Hold still. Jerk around and your muscles will seize, and that hurts more than you'd think."

I took an empty glass bottle from my pocket and fanned a hand toward the cross, which was burning ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠merrily. The flames climbing from its base were sucked into the bottle and burned themselves out. The cross was ash in an instant, and from it a cord of black smoke, thin as an umbilical, rose and vanished.

"Professor, are you all right?"

"Ohhh, Jin, my boy! My favorite pupil!"

On the verge of tears, Professor Spraus kicked free of the cross and came running.

"Thank you! Truly, thank you for reining in these feral whelps!"

"Did something happen?"

"Something happen? Why would you even ask— Wait. Does your department not get this sort of thing?"

Murdering a professor did happen from time to time.

"I couldn't say. I live in the research building, for one."

"Urgh. I suppose this doesn't happen because you're there. Our lab ought to have had a few more graduate students..."

"So what was it."

"A solidarity strike. The tuition's too expensive, so the children rose up! It won't be only here—the other departments are probably rising all at once as we speak."

Soot smeared his face, and he looked ready to cry. The question escaped me before I thought better of it.

"The tuition? Why? How much is it, even?"

"Didn't you attend this university yourself? Why ask me?"

"I was on a full scholarship."

I had a vague memory of a close classmate once telling me the figure, but it had not seemed important, so I had forgotten it. Looking back, even then a few of my peers had lamented how expensive tuition was. Some had taken leave altogether just to earn the money for it.

This was no time for idle reminiscence. Grounding Shock was instant-cast, but its hold was brief, and the students would soon reclaim command of their bodies. Sure enough, the second-years at the front were already halfway free of the spell.

"Mr. Jin..."

"You know who I am?"

"Of course we do! What undergrad at this school doesn't know Mr. Jin!"

The eyes of the ones in front sparkled to an uncomfortable degree. I seemed to be laboring under a serious misunderstanding on their part. There was no reason for me to be that famous, and they were not even magitech students.

I pointed at the ground with my index finger once more.

"Aah! W-wait, sir! I have a question—no, an autograph, at least!"

An autograph. As if. A graduate student's popularity was useless however much of it you scraped together. Being popular with the professor was no good either, of course. In the gap while they were shocked, I fled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for the research building with Professor Spraus.