The Academy Read online

  “Son, I have been talking with one of my old friends about your plans to go to Grandmaster Vydor’s school. He knew Grandmaster Vydor well before the war, and I was surprised to hear quite a different account of how things went than we see on the broadcasts. I am quite impressed with what I have learned about him, especially the strategies he used in the war. I hope they have a class dedicated to how he ran the conflict, because it is a pattern of the right way to do it. He had a broad picture of what must be done, but did not burden the troops with micromanaged detail. But you were there and you know all that. I learned something else which you never told me: it appears that you were responsible for the decision which won the war for us.”

  When he said that, the memory of that battle came rushing back to me …

  I was on the bridge of the Dragon Claw watching in awe the battle between Grandmaster Vydor and the grandmaster sorcerer. We had tried to measure the level of power being used in the fight, but it was off all our meters. “It might as well be two gods out there,” commented one officer. The captain replied, “And just think, they are still new at this.”

  “Captain, surely we can assist them? They are so evenly-matched right now; if we can help even a little it could tip the scales in their favor,” I suggested.

  “You are right, James! Bring all weapons on all ships back online! Master Kellyn said that energy-based weapons would work on those creatures we’ve just fought, so why not on him? Target the center of the darkness and fire at will!” called out the captain.

  Grandmaster Vydor had said later that they could not have won the fight without the help provided by the fleet at that critical moment. “Sir, you have told me many times that a true warrior never boasts but lets his record stand for itself.”

  He beamed with pride at that remark. “They say that it’s virtually impossible to graduate from the school, and they expect fewer than ten percent of those they let in to even reach the first level of their forces.”

  “Yes, sir,” was all I said. I was unsure what conclusion he was leading up to.

  “Well, if my son were to attend this school, I would fully expect him to graduate at the top of his class,” he said.

  I sat in silence, not knowing what to reply. He eventually resumed speaking.

  “Son, it sounds as if this Grandmaster Vydor is a true example of what navy men should be, and for you to study under him at the most difficult school in the realm would make our family proud. I was wrong about him, and I underestimated you. Attend the school with my blessing, and be sure to report in regularly. I will be very interested to hear how he runs things there.”

  “Thank you, sir. I will not let you down, nor the honor of our family. They say it takes ten to twelve years merely to get through their equivalent of boot camp, so there may not be much in the way of shining reports for a long time to come.”

  He smiled at that, and I knew he was remembering when he had left to join the Naval Academy for the first time. After a manly hug and handshake, I left to catch the shuttle to the school.

  Chapter Two

  In a dark room made completely from stone, seven magi gathered around a large, shallow bowl. The bowl was filled with some highly viscous silver liquid. The bowl itself was also made of stone and sat on a large pedestal fashioned in the likeness of a hand, though bizarre and twisted. It was at least two meters in diameter and stood a meter above the floor.

  Each of the magi wore thick, heavy robes so black they were almost impossible to see, even in the best of lighting. It was as if all the light in the room fell into them and could not escape. The only distinction between the magi was in the subtle color of their hoods and the style of their staves.

  One magus raised his staff in the air and began to chant as the rest stood watching. His hood was a deep red, barely discernable from black. His staff was the color of driftwood and resembled a comet. It glowed faintly red as he chanted.

  As the chant reached a crescendo he lowered his staff so that the tip of it barely touched the liquid in the bowl. The liquid began to spin, picking up speed to match the rhythm of his chant, yet the bowl itself seemed to stay perfectly still.

  As the red-hooded magus returned his staff to his side an image slowly came into focus in the spinning liquid. The scene displayed was of a large transport hub in orbit around a stony, dead world. The gathered magi watched a shuttlecraft of some kind approach the station, dock, and eventually leave.

  The magi continued to watch the scene in total silence as if it were the most important thing that had ever been shown to anyone. After a while the red-hooded magus uttered a command word, and the scene in the bowl changed. The new focus of the bowl’s attention was a young, fit human in rather mundane clothing, standing in a long line of creatures of many races in various kinds of garb. He seemed nervous and was constantly looking around as if he expected something bad to happen at any time.

  Eventually the human reached the front of the line and was ushered through a security checkpoint. As he passed through it he looked over his shoulder, as if wondering who was following him and seeing no one there.

  “He senses us,” one magus said.

  “Impossible,” said another.

  “It matters not,” said a third.

  The human then worked his way through the crowds, obviously looking for something, constantly glancing over his shoulder and checking the people around him. Something was clearly bothering him.

  Soon he made it to another line of people who were dressed in similar nondescript clothing. It was a line to board another shuttle, and it was slowly moving forward. When all the people were on the shuttle the scene in the bowl shifted to follow the eventual launch, and as it approached the planet which was its destination the image in the bowl began to get blurry and eventually became completely fogged over.

  The red-hooded magus raised his staff and said a single command word which caused the liquid to slowly stop spinning. “So it begins again,” was all he said.

  Chapter Three

  The school turned out to be nothing like the Naval Academy. In fact, nothing in my life could have prepared me for what faced me when I arrived. Prospects, the title given to all the incoming students, were given the lowest of the low positions. We did the work that was done by robots back on my homeworld, as it was considered to be below the dignity of any person to perform such tasks. We were required to clean up after livestock, shear sheep, make clothes, and do all the servile tasks necessary to run the school. This was a major culture shock, for me at least; I grew up on the capital planet and had spent my entire adult life in space. I had never seen a cow before, and knew nothing about how to care for one. I knew what my father would tell me if I complained: he would say, “I do not care if your job is washing the bolts on the floor of the bathroom, you will do it to the best of your ability, and excel beyond all who have come before.” So that was exactly what I determined to do.

  There were a few bright spots in those first years at the Academy. I still remember our first lesson at the school that had anything to do with magic at all. It came in our third year there. We were all ushered into a large lecture hall lit only by candles and lanterns. When I had first arrived at the school the smoke from them stung my eyes and brought back memories I did not wish to remember, but over time I got used to the constant smoke and only noticed it in passing.

  Once we had all settled in, an ancient-looking man stood to address us. He said, “Prospects, congratulations on making it thus far in this fine school. Over half of your classmates have already given up, but you carry on. To have reached even this stage puts you head and shoulders above most people in your realm.” He paused here a moment as if to gather his thoughts and then continued. “Prospects, the years ahead will continue to grow harder and harder, and the desire to leave will grow in each of you. We see many depart each year without ever making it to their first class in the powers they came here to learn. Eventually you will understand why we operate
the way we do, but for now we just ask that you continue to work hard and do your best.”

  He stepped off the stage, and I thought for a moment that this was going to be the shortest lecture in the history of any school when suddenly all the candles and lamps in the room went out at once. There was a rush of wind, and I could almost sense power building around us as an image grew on the stage, that of a big sphere with stars and galaxies on its surface. As it grew, I realized that it was our universe displayed as a ball.

  Then another sphere appeared, one I did not recognize but which was also covered in stars and galaxies. I wondered if this was Mantis’ realm. Soon both spheres grew until the entire front of the lecture hall was filled with them. They spun and orbited each other in what seemed like a completely random pattern.

  “These spheres represent the multiverse as we know it. We have found no other realms yet, but where there are two we assume there may be more. As part of your training here you must learn to expand your mind to understand the powers of darkness that threaten not just this school, not just your nation, and not even just this realm, but all realms everywhere. This school is the vanguard of the defense force for this realm, as are similar schools in my own realm.”

  The image shifted and swirled around us. Soon we were zooming in and out of various places in both realms. One image was of a woman tending to her children; it soon vanished, and we zoomed in on some farmers working in a field. That was quickly replaced by a hospital, replaced in its turn by a school for small children. One after another the images continued to appear. We saw people from both realms at all levels of wealth, health, and technology. It was too much to take in. Then suddenly it was all gone and the room looked just as it had when we walked in.

  The professor climbed back on the stage and said, “This is why we exist. The people you just saw are real, and you observed what they are doing at the present time. Each one of them, whether they know it or not, is depending on you. Each one of you possesses within yourself the power to change for better or worse the lives of everyone you just saw.”

  He stopped and let his gaze wander around the room. He seemed to linger at certain places, and I was surprised when his eyes locked on mine. I was sure he smiled at me, but perhaps my mind was playing tricks.

  “Our school has among its students representatives of every race and nation in your realm, but none of that will distinguish you from now on. To be a wizard you must first be born a magus; this puts you in a class all of your own. It does not matter what you believed your race to be before you came here, nor does it matter what family you came from. If you are to be a wizard you must first be a magus.”

  I could hear murmurings around me at this remark. Many of us had come from strong ancestral homes, and the thought of no longer belonging to those ancestries was likely to prove more than some people could deal with. Personally, I wanted a clean break with my past; I needed to leave behind the darkness that was haunting me and move unburdened towards the future.

  “Yes, it will be difficult for some of you to make that adjustment, while others will embrace it with joy. As the decades roll by and the wizards of this realm define themselves it will seem more natural, but at the moment it is alien to many of you. I caution you: until you can embrace this, you will not advance here. You must learn that the powers wielded by wizards and the responsibilities they hold remove them from normal society. Wizards are held to a higher standard than anyone else because the very balance of life and death rests on their shoulders. Society as a whole in our realms depends on the wizards of both worlds embracing this truth and rising above their roots. The day they fail to do this is the day darkness begins to reign. If you cannot accept this, then now is the time to return to your home.” With that he took his leave.

  I wanted to jump up and declare that I could be counted on to defend this realm as a wizard, and I would forsake all to do it. I wanted to proclaim my dedication at the top of my lungs, but I did not; instead, I felt a cool fire build up in me. This professor, whoever he was, had just laid down a challenge, and I for one was ready to accept it.

  Not all of us were so ready to dedicate ourselves. I remember a day very early on when one of my classmates had had enough of being a servant in the school and had stood up and protested to our professor.

  “Do you know who my father is? He’s the president of our district, and when he finds out what you’re making me do, there will be big trouble for you!” David called out.

  The professor was not going to let that go. He approached David and said, “I do not care if your father is the Emperor himself; none of that matters here. You have a choice to make, and you had better make it quickly. Either forsake your loyalty to all others and swear your undying loyalty to the Council of Wizards, or you are finished here!”

  David’s face turned very pale. I suppose no one had ever called him to task like that before. I realized he did not know what to say. Eventually he stumbled out an oath of sorts to the Council. The professor then turned to the rest of us and demanded that we do the same. He told us then that wizards could not be permitted to be swayed by local politics and powers and must work in the larger arena of protecting the realm as a whole. We all followed David’s example and swore our loyalty and obedience. From that day on David’s attitude was different, and he became a hard worker.

  When I told my father this story, he smiled and said, “It seems they understand proper discipline there.” I did not fully understand what he meant by that, but I was glad to see his continued approval of the school.

  Chapter Four

  As prospects, we were formed into teams of various sizes. We were not told how they chose the team members, and everyone seemed to assume the groups were assembled randomly. I was not so sure; it was hard to believe that the combinations could have been as bad as they were purely by chance. I had often wondered if the worst possible selections were made on purpose. Team members were rotated every few months, and I suspected the reason for that was to keep each team as bad as possible. I did everything in my power to thwart that process, fighting hard to keep my team ahead, and to some degree I was successful.

  Early on in my time at the academy I was given a position of leadership among the prospect teams. I was not informed why I had been chosen, but I assumed it was because of my military training. Whatever the reason, it made my work much harder. At the beginning of each week I was given a list of jobs for my team to do, and at the end of the week each team was scored on how well they had done that week. The top-scoring teams were rewarded with special privileges, and the lowest-ranking teams got extra work to do.

  Most of the students in the school were much younger than myself and had very little real experience doing anything at all as a team. They all understood the concept of competition, but the idea of teamwork and striving towards a common goal was foreign to most of them. As young as I was, I felt more like a parent with children to herd than a leader among adults.

  Most of the time the assignments we were given were extremely mundane, such as repairing stables or shearing sheep. Occasionally, though, something very unexpected would happen to turn everything on its head.

  My team would often be given the job of cleaning the mess hall. It was a fairly normal task to receive on the rotations, but one week things got a bit out of hand. When we arrived at the dining hall, I began splitting the room up into zones and assigning prospects into groups of three to handle each area. This made the job feel smaller, since any one prospect felt that they had only a small area to worry about instead of seeing the massive hall all at once as their job to clean.

  My plan seemed to be going as well as ever when suddenly I heard a commotion from across the hall. I looked over to see the prospects running around in complete panic. I jumped up on a table to try and see what was happening and saw an army of miniature people made completely of fire charging my position.

  Quickly glancing around, I saw a prospect named Patty nimbly dive fo
r cover near the big water buckets. “Patty! Get some water!” I yelled. She looked up, confused, and I added, “We are losing points!”

  She was extremely competitive, so that motivated her to overcome her natural fear of flaming aliens. She snatched pitchers from the floor and began filling them with water. I organized my team, and we created bucket brigades to pour water on the flaming creatures. Once doused with water they completely disappeared.

  Just then one of the professors walked in. He looked around briefly and then called out something incomprehensible, and suddenly I could not move at all. I had acquired dark blue bands on my arms and legs, and although these were not connected to anything and I could not feel the bands, I could no longer move my arms or legs. From my vantage point I could see that everyone else was similarly bound, including the fire creatures.

  The professor looked at me and said, “What is going on in here?”

  “Professor, I don’t know. My team was doing an excellent job cleaning the hall when these creatures appeared out of nowhere and attacked us,” I said.

  “I see. And your method of handling this was to dump pitchers of dirty water all over the floor?” he said.

  “Professor, with so much wood in here I did not think it safe to delay. I believed water would be the best way to prevent the tables from catching fire.”

  “I see, and where did these creatures come from?”

  I had not known the answer to that question until he asked it. Somehow I knew they had come from a new prospect on my team named Roger. I had no idea how I knew that, but I did. “Professor, I did not see them arrive,” I replied, trying to convince myself that I did not know what I knew.

  “Of course not; they are summoned creatures and do not simply walk in. I know you know who it was, so tell me.”