Reunion with the Inquisitor (1)
As a professor, I'm obviously thrilled to have a student with real academic passion. Someone who studies diligently, previews and reviews thoroughly—why on earth would I discourage that? But this is a completely different story.
Writing a report that's not even required? No matter how much you love studying, nobody does that. Just like Arienael said yesterday, it's clearly about leaving her mark on me.
"If you have something to say, just spit it out. What the hell is this?"
"Why are you suddenly like this? Can't I?"
The problem is, she hasn't done anything wrong. What grounds do I have to punish a student who's volunteering to write an unnecessary report with such diligence? There's no evidence beyond me and Arienael's suspicions. But letting it slide feels ominous. I don't know her exact intentions, but she'll probably keep this up until she gets what she wants.
Stella Rackton flashed a bright smile as soon as I stopped talking, gave a quick greeting, and left.
"See you next time, Professor!"
Arienael must have seen the whole thing. She came over, pausing her supervision of another student's experiment.
"Professor, what was that about?"
"Just like you said, that student's got something off about her."
"Right? I told you she had ulterior motives."
"What could it be, though......."
It's not like I have zero guesses. If anything, there are too many possibilities. A mage, a noble, a student, and from a local powerhouse family to boot. I hope this doesn't drag me into some major mess.
"Still, no need to worry too much. She doesn't seem to have any ill will toward you. Just keep in mind that she's got an agenda."
"Who knows."
She's being so obvious about it that even I can't miss the fact she has motives. I wanted to mull it over more, but this wasn't the moment for deep thoughts. In the end, the next student arrived for evaluation, so I shelved my Stella musings for now.
Professor Atwill didn't always give the same score to identical results. Even if two succeeded and one failed just like the first student, not everyone got a B+. Sometimes, even identical types yielded different scores.
No one protested. He'd explained from the start that he listened to explanations, watched the process, and then scored. But if you compiled all the results, patterns emerged. The students just couldn't share them.
You could tell from that first male student's retrial alone.
"This is your second attempt. Confident?"
"No...."
The student focused too much on neutralizing toxicity again. The professor had praised that part initially, so he couldn't ignore it. His potion succeeded in only two areas once more—but not exactly the same as before. This time, he failed on the snake, not the slime.
"If you submit like this, it's an A-. Will you?"
"Pardon?"
The student blurted it out reflexively. He'd assumed it was the same as before and was inwardly disappointed. Hearing a better score, he wondered if he'd misheard.
"Repeating yourself means you don't get why again. Lucky for you—I won't deduct for it."
"Yes, I don't know. Could you tell me the reason?"
"I'll explain after submission."
The student pondered. He'd wasted too much time this round, overly cautious after the prior failure. Restarting now would be tight on time. Using extra catalyst meant deductions. An A0 would drop to A- anyway, so he needed A+ to justify retrying. And without knowing why his score improved, could he hit A+ on a redo?
The decision was quick.
"I'll submit."
"Good. Actually, no need to explain—another student's bringing results. We can look together. She seems to get it."
Sure enough, a female magic department student entered with her product. The one who'd submitted second and failed toxicity.
Her results mirrored the boy's: passed toxicity lightly, succeeded in two efficacy tests. But she failed the scorpion venom.
"Can you explain? You focused most on slime antidote, right?"
"Yes. Well, scorpion and snake... their wounds are small, right? Slime spreads wide. Harder to apply topically, so... I thought it was most important... Was I wrong?"
"No, spot on. You're A0. Write a good report, and I'll bump it to A+."
"Thank you!"
The girl left with light steps. The boy watching couldn't hide his bewilderment.
"That was really it?"
"Yes. Today's key was slime antidote. Follow the right process, and you get strong efficacy across all three without toxicity issues. Otherwise, sacrifice one—but it can't be slime."
"I know the potion works on it. But wasn't it just a passing mention in the handout corner?"
"Exactly."
Atwill's casual affirmation left the student feeling even more aggrieved.
"Of course, you can't ignore a professor's word, but grading on that alone......."
"Plenty more hints."
"More?"
"Yes. When I mentioned quantities: one scorpion, one snake, one small slime's worth. But do slimes travel solo?"
Small slimes form groups. Solitary ones are large, human-sized. They look single but are fused multiples.
"That's not... but...."
"I emphasized slime as magic poison upfront. Said beginner parties rarely have mages. Handout had more hints too. Tons pointing to slime as priority. That's why same failure yields different scores. Catch even one reason and explain? You'd be A0. Too bad."
He finally got it.
"I see. Thanks for teaching me. I'll write a proper report."
"Good. Your measuring was precise."
"Thank you."
The student turned to leave, regret lingering. But Professor Atwill wasn't done.
"Quick on the uptake too. Didn't miss the key point."
"Pardon? Ah... yes... thank you...."
"Solid judgment overall. With someone sharper helping, you'd soar."
The boy grew uneasy. No way... nah.
"If you're into experiments, grad school next year......."
"Thank you! Goodbye!"
He bolted. Left alone, Professor Atwill muttered so softly even elven ears wouldn't catch.
"Not as dumb as he looks......."
Only Stella Rackton got A+ in the first class. Two A0s made three perfect scorers total. Three went from B+ to A- or A0 post-report. Lowest was C-, from a toxicity flunk who rushed extra catalyst. Rest: C0 to B0.
Students' levels were way worse than expected. Downgrade next class? This country's magic education future looks bleak. At fifteen, a year before college graduation, I handled this easily.
Post-experiments, Arienael asked.
"Professor, wasn't there plenty of catalyst left? Enough for two tries each."
"And?"
"Why so strict?"
Elves and their rigidness.
"Expensive."
"No way...."
"Leftover materials post-class are mine to handle. Department-approved."
I don't embezzle dangerously. Not just conscience—too many hunting my flaws. No sense giving ammo.
"...Got it. That's allowed, right?"
"Yeah. I made it available. Their choice not to use, despite deductions."
I had justification: evaluate completing with given materials in time. Buying outside? Pricey, especially bulk unused.
"Back to the lab. Your real work starts now."
"...Yes."
Arienael seemed drained, more than usual. No clue why.
Sunday, day after lab class. Arienael and I finished lunch, heading back.
Don't misunderstand—I'm no sleazy professor summoning undergrads privately post-hours. I separate work and personal fine.
We ate together because we both worked Sundays. Totally normal.
"Even swamp fern ineffective. Thought it highest potential left."
"What if all four match?"
"Normally retest, but... why the face? This is the retest. Vary conditions."
"Like what?"
"Compare not to plain items, but your top/bottom grades first. Or combos of two."
"...How many trials?"
"Can't calculate? Top, bottom, normal mix: three types. Four items each, two-at-a-time combos: six......."
"No, I mean...."
"Professor!"
A voice called during our talk. Stella? No, brighter, higher pitch than hers.
"Professor Atwill? It's you, right? Fancy meeting again."
The owner: black priestess robes, hexagonal holy pendant. Brown-haired beauty waving cheerily.
I didn't recognize instantly. Attitude too different—seemed another person.
"Inquisitor Prudence?"
"You remember?"
I'm bad with names, but our first meeting? Unforgettable. My money.
"Ah! This the elf grad student you mentioned?"
"Yes. Arienael. Introduce yourself."
"Hello. Arienael."
Right, not her real name.
"I'm Prudence, resident university priest. Heard lots about you, Arienael."
"About me?"
I'd said little. Rhetorical, probably.
Arienael awkward at sudden encounter, but Prudence chatted warmly, smiling.
Inquisition biased me, but she's naturally kind.
"Yes. Professor Atwill picked you specially for spellcraft research."
No, wait.