First Lesson: The Wand as Partner
Long periods without war make people complacent in peace. Vigilance slackens, alertness fades, and focus shifts to internal squabbles. That was the state of the continent right now. And standing in stark contrast to that was the far north—Nordenburk.
While the continent basked in peace, Nordenburk fought ceaselessly against the northern beasts. To survive endless monster waves, they did whatever it took. No room for fussing over lineages, family prestige, or political clout.
"Learn whatever works, absorb without prejudice."
That northern creed hadn't changed in three hundred years. Stubborn purists obsessed with "proper origins" were long buried under the frozen tundra. To the north's warriors, their family secret arts were mere reference manuals—subject to revision at any time. People were the same. The north was the continent's most egalitarian place. In a nation at war, they needed warriors to smash monster waves up front, not pampered nobles fattened on luxury.
That's why Nordenburk had no incompetent commanders. Those who issued absurd orders from the rear had already fallen to their own frontline troops. Battles against beasts maddened by the Kin of the Outside were chaos incarnate. Even post-fight investigations couldn't tell if a commander died to subordinates or monsters.
So who did the northerners listen to? Simple: the strong. Those you could trust with your back in battle. The one who saved your life. In that sense, Professor Ria—the newcomer—perfectly fit the bill for winning over the northerners.
Ordinary folk barely remembered the banquet hall incident. Weaker-minded students only recalled that professors had saved them. But the northern students were different. With iron wills, they could piece together events even under black magic's thrall. Her image—ripping her dress hem for mobility, grabbing an axe to fight, yet never forgetting her duty to shield students—mirrored the north's fierce shieldmaidens.
The banquet tale spread like wildfire through the northern dorms. A professor even Gunter Nordenburk—their top warrior—acknowledged. For bloodthirsty students obsessed with growing stronger, her class was a no-brainer.
And fortune smiled on the northerners. Rumors swirled through the three dorms: "Avoid Professor Ria's classes if you can."
That opened slots in Understanding Wands for non-registrants. The academy didn't care if absentees left empty seats—fillers were fine. Regular students might've feared retaliation, but Nordenburk kids were trainee warriors. Few could best the walking tanks guarding the front lines in one-on-one spars.
"Whoa, way more than I expected."
Entering the lecture hall, Professor Ria's face flashed surprise she'd never shown before a 7th Circle black mage.
"Ahem, good to see you all."
Clearing her throat to mask her fluster, she ascends the podium. She sets down the books tucked under her arm, then scans the seated students one by one. Mostly northern kids, but a few from elsewhere dotted in. Not everyone skipped.
Not a bad turnout for day one.
"Honestly, I'm a bit shocked. Thought this room would be a ghost town."
She starts light. The material diverges from standard curricula, so a relaxed vibe feels right.
"But seeing so many of you here? Makes me happy."
She flashes a bright smile and spins half a turn. Gripping chalk before the massive blackboard, she continues.
"Smart choice. You won't regret it."
The best way to win over absentees? Make these kids grow lightning-fast. Once exams show the gap between her students and others? Demand would skyrocket, blocks or no.
With that in mind, she writes the first lesson's theme—a phrase every mage knows.
[What is a Wand?]
Tapping chalk dust off lightly, she presses on.
"Heard this one before, right?"
Nods ripple through the room. It's etched in every first-time wand purchase.
"They usually teach that a wand is part of your body."
[The Wand is Part of My Body]
Not entirely wrong, if you think about it. Wands are a mage's third arm—vital enough for the saying. All magic save corrupting black arts from beyond channels through wands. So yeah, an extension of the self.
"It's... partially true."
Only partially.
"But I'd tweak it a little."
She swipes a finger through the air; the board's text vanishes. New words appear.
[The Wand is a Lifelong Partner]
Fantasy tales often pair weapons and masters like partners. Same here with mages and wands.
"Your wand isn't your body—it's your partner."
Wands that like their owner cooperate fully, no matter the handling. They'll strive their best. But if the fundamentals are flawed...
"From now on, I'll teach you magic's true basics."
Standard curricula call "basics" manifesting elemental affinities. For quick efficiency, they skip wand details—user comfort trumps customization for fast growth. Few besides her know wands so deeply anyway.
"What I'll cover: wand history and mastery."
Only I can teach this. She's whittled wands longer than anyone alive.
"Back to the foundations you missed."
Higher realms slow growth—magic, martial arts, any study. Raising tiers builds towers. Shoddy foundations crumble; solid ones scale endlessly.
"Might seem pointless now, but firm basics mean bigger gains than peers later."
She's reinforcing their shaky towers—prime age for visible results.
"Look forward to it."
One week and three days to midterms. Plenty to spark change.
"I'll transform you for sure."
"Hah, what the hell happened at that banquet?"
Ian rubbed his temple. None of the Eastern Union students lingering till the end remembered clearly. No answers, no matter how he pressed. Just pale faces muttering about a "pale star."
That star? A black mage's spell. No sane student withstood it.
"No one remembers... Should've stayed myself?"
Muttering, he eyes the letter. Stark northern prose, no political fluff: simple message.
We won't interfere in your affairs.
From expecting cooperation days ago, this was absurd to Ian.
"What went down to flip the north like this?"
Ignorant of details, he seethes. They claim non-interference, but it screams backing Ria.
"Whatever. Won't change a thing."
Fine, Ria's no total pushover. But with that roster? No topping exams. Northern warriors pack power, but Empire and Union nobles drill academy tests from childhood. Weaker in raw force, but practicals favor them.
"We'll win in the end."
She vowed to prove herself? Deny the chance. Dominate practicals, done. Ian burns the letter, dismissing it.