#8 - I Stumbled Into a Double Major

The next morning—Friday at last, the day I'd been waiting for—I arrived at school to find that something about the atmosphere was off.

Not that things were ever particularly pleasant on my account, to be fair. If anything, they were spectacularly unpleasant.

I was, after all, effectively this school's token loner—its one true outsider. Worse, to some of the rougher boys, I was treated as nothing more than a walking outlet for their lust.

But this was different.

If the old vibe had been mockery and ostracism, what I felt now was…

Don't even come near her.

That sentiment ran beneath everything.

Why would the same kids who'd normally just snicker behind my back suddenly react like this?

It was absurd enough to make me want to laugh, and yet a little curious too—and thanks to a single sheet of paper pinned to the board at the front of the room, I soon had my answer.

Three lines. Short, blunt, and devastating.

The instant I read them, exactly one thought filled my head.

Why is this happening to me?

The Sheria of the game I'd played had never belonged to the School of Magic—she'd never been a double major to begin with.

She could sit in on magic lectures as general electives, sure, but not once had her major ever been magic. There was no reason for it to be, either.

In this world's setting, magic belonged to those born with the gift, which meant only a select few characters could wield it. At the same time, its inherent danger meant every citizen's magic had to be bound to the Kingdom of Albion. And the criterion that decided everything was danger.

Spells above a certain threshold of output—or of risk—were managed directly by the kingdom; everything below received minimal oversight, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or none at all.

And in my case, I scored a failing grade on both counts.

A simple glow. A tiny breeze. Shifting the direction of a sound. Conjuring a mirror image. A fleeting afterimage. Color-altering magic and… that was about the whole of my repertoire.

My output was rock bottom, and a danger rating? As if such a thing existed for me. With enough ingenuity I could technically make my magic hazardous, but nothing I could do came within a mile of what an ordinary mage was capable of.

Sure enough, the aptitude test at enrollment had pegged me at Sub-standard output—the lowest tier there was—and all I'd gotten for it was a pat remark of Well, no wonder you never landed a sponsor.

So then why? How? Why on earth had I been saddled with a double major in the School of Magic?

Don't tell me this world had shifted on me again, in some way I still knew nothing about?

Academy life, fully underway since the orientation period ended, had diverged from my expectations and my knowledge so many times that I was starting to dread even thinking about it.

"Haaaaah…"

The sigh escaped me before I could stop it.

And someone who heard that sigh came over to speak to me.

"Sheria? Is something the matter?"

"Eek!?"

The person who'd greeted me so kindly, hand resting on my shoulder, was Aiden Dupin—the undisputed star of the Literature Department.

Aiden, playing the close friend with effortless naturalness, read the paper pinned to the board and delivered his verdict in a voice brimming with pure sincerity.

"Congratulations, Sheria. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The School of Magic? That's the elite track, you know."

"Ah… haha… thanks…"

He wasn't wrong—graduate from Lumiere Academy with a School of Magic major, and elite status practically came guaranteed.

So his was the normal reaction to have.

"You'll have so much more to study, your abilities will improve, and if things go well you might even make a name for yourself—no?"

"I… guess…?"

Famous. He said famous.

I'd already gotten famous in an entirely different direction, if he only knew.

Phantom Thief Blanc's successful debut at House Karelgar had earned a modest notoriety throughout the kingdom.

Difficult as my circumstances were, this was a phantom thief who'd cracked open a noble family's treasure vault. Wasn't it only natural that alone would buy considerable fame?

Mercifully, no word had spread about her being violated—or having her virtue "sampled," or anything of the sort. Because if that had gotten out, the tale of how they caught her and then let her go—one of the great legendary blunders of all time—would have spread across the entire kingdom.

Either way, famous as I already was in that particular direction, the last thing I wanted was more fame.

…Wait. Famous?

Phantom Thief Blanc was already renowned for wielding an impressive array of magic. House Karelgar, desperate to save face, had even run a little PR campaign of their own: Phantom Thief Blanc is a formidable mage.

Which meant that if I went to the School of Magic and simply demonstrated what level my magic actually was? I could slip straight out of the investigation's net.

Better still, the School of Magic meant learning magic, period—so perhaps I could even raise my pathetically anemic mana output?

At first the change had irritated me, but the longer I turned it over, the better it looked.

Past "pretty good," even. This was, at long last, a change that seemed ready to work in my favor.

"You're right—do well, and I might just make a name for myself."

"See? Congratulations. I'll be rooting for you."

"Thank you, Aiden."

Perhaps this happy turn had lifted my spirits, because I accepted Aiden's congratulations without a drop of irony—proudly, even.

Before lectures began, I stopped by a professor's office in the School of Magic to file the double-major paperwork, then completed my course registration with a schedule that steered clear of the classes I'd already chosen.

First-year courses in the School of Magic were entirely fixed, so all it took was slotting the requirements into my open periods—hardly any trouble at all.

With that settled, I headed back to the Literature Department's lecture rooms ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and sat through my usual classes.

I got through them all cleanly, and come afternoon I made for Basics and Deciphering of Dead Languages, the elective I'd registered for just yesterday, and…

"Um, Professor…?"

"Yes, Sheria?"

"There are… rather a lot of empty seats in here…?"

There were. How many? Enough that not a single soul remained besides me.

"Ah, yes… about that. We had a few students at the start, but they all dropped it, saying it was boring. And when I told them dead languages are mostly written in forbidden tomes, so they'd be useless for their futures, the ones who were left cleared out too! Hahaha!"

"Pardon…?"

Hold on—if it was just me, wouldn't a one-student class get canceled?

"Oh, no need to worry, it can't be canceled! The remaining students are all graduating seniors already serving the kingdom or high noble houses—it's merely credit-filling for them! Hahahaha! Isn't this actually ideal, though? I get to raise one earnest student who came here to learn into my own protégé!"

"Ah… hahaha…"

Boring? Just how boring does a lecture have to be for every last student to flee?

The protégé remark was no skin off my nose, but the boredom was a genuine problem. Essential course or not, a lecture that dull spelled disaster.

My nerves were wound tight and regret was gnawing at me—but I had no other options.

And so began the dead-languages class of exactly two—Professor Albert and myself—and I made a discovery.

Professor Albert is a genuinely gifted teacher.

That much was true. Entirely true—and yet there was exactly one problem, a flaw that forced me to dock him points as an educator.

"Um, Professor…?"

"Is something the matter?"

"What about… breaks?"

"Ahhh… that might be a little difficult? I was planning to push through at least ten more pages today!"

"Ten pages…"

Breaks? There were no breaks. Only learning.

Um, Professor? People die this way. I am actually dying.

But before long, I realized that this, too, might work ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in my favor.

"You do know east, west, south, and north, yes? This is east, this is west, this is south, and this is north."

…North? North?

The silver disc I'd stolen from House Karelgar bore a word shaped exactly like that very "north."

"They're the most essential elements for reading geography, and they turn up remarkably often in Siderean—the dead language we're studying now—so it pays to commit them to memory."

Hold on. Then… then…

"Um, Professor?"

"Yes, Sheria?"

"I'd actually like to study the geography-related vocabulary a little more. Could you teach me some of those terms?"

A loophole this modest was surely fair game.

Professor Albert heard me out, then broke into a hearty smile.

"Splendid. Comparing them against their modern names should be rather fun in its own right."

"Thank you…!"

And so, for the rest of the session, we tossed the earlier syllabus aside and studied the words for places, just the two of us.

And thanks to that—thanks to that—I learned the truth.

The sealing location of that silver disc, written in my Master's ledger.

Amusingly enough, the very same words had been engraved on the disc all along.

The disc's true name—and the place where it had to be sealed—was a location known as the Eye of the Northern Shallows.

Had my Master known this in advance, and prepared the sealing materials accordingly?

I couldn't say for certain. Still, for once, everything was falling smoothly into place—thank goodness.

But as it always does, the unexpected had a way of arriving.

—Shhhhhhhh…

It was Friday evening, before roll call, and I was in the shower.

"So… if it's the Eye of the Northern Shallows, then it's some waveless spot up north… uugh, but where on earth is that supposed to be?"

There I was, leaning against the shower room's glass wall, racking my brain over exactly where in the present day that riddle of a location might be.

—Creeeak

"Oh my."

The shower stall had slid open without warning, and a girl with deep green hair—just a touch taller than me—stood there, staring straight at me.

My thoughts cut off clean. My mind went snow-white.

And a heartbeat later, my reaction was…

"KYAAAAAAAAAAAH!?"