"And that's all for today," Marcus finished, eyes roving over the class. All the students wore the same type of clothing, courtesy of a rather fortuitous find in the basement, but the difference between them couldn't be more stark. "Practice the exercise, help your fellow students. Class dismissed."
The thirty two souls stood, bowing nearly as one. Awkwardly in the case of the peasantry, who were unaccustomed to the gesture, and only slightly more elegantly for those of the city watch. The druids weren't any better, really, so Marcus supposed it was awkward all around.
The class filed out, leaving him standing in an empty room. Three weeks he'd been doing this, and he seemed to have finally found his rhythm. A style of teaching. It mostly boiled down to showing them an exercise, walking around to help those who needed it, then testing them on last time's exercise.
Small variations on simple spells, building up in complexity, would give them a solid foundation. The druids had a head start, of course, but their education varied. Varied and often subpar. Exercises remembered and not written down by their teachers, accumulating small inefficiencies and mistakes as time passed.
Fixing bad habits was harder than training from a blank slate, but the druids did know how to actually weave magic. They'd been instrumental in providing help to their classmates.
He wasn't sure what he'd have done without them, actually. Marcus had rather underestimated how difficult it was to teach a hundred souls with just the four teachers, even if all those he taught took it more seriously than he could have hoped.
"You forgot your potion," Vess said, having entered when he wasn't looking. Damn but she could be quiet when she wanted to be. "Memory fatigue isn't something to take lightly."
Marcus took and drank the 'cure', though he wasn't actually suffering aftereffects right this second. "I know. Thanks. How did the interview go?"
"Good. Somme is eager to get started, Von is mostly here because his friends are and Emma is cold but nonetheless willing. I've had Gretched put them to work with the study groups, let them get their feet wet, so to say, and I put a meeting in your calendar so you can give them final approval after I've had some time to see them work."
"Cold?"
"Uncaring fits better, perhaps. She's here for the political advantage it may bring her, not for the students' benefit."
"Ah. Fair enough. Well, it'll be good to have more teachers. And I'm late for my next class, so excuse me."
He left a faintly amused Vess behind, striding towards what used to be the ballroom in this wing of the castle. It had since been retrofitted to allow them to build a sparring ring, one big enough to allow for some movement.
Marcus was under no illusion that his reign was going to be without war or civil strife, so training his mages for combat seemed prudent. Get to it early, make it a part of the curriculum, maybe even set up an after-class club once he found someone to run it.
Not everyone was going to be cut out for war, he knew that, but even if a druid was content to bless fields and heal farm animals, basic self-defence skills couldn't hurt.
He quietly entered the room, finding Kleph already there. Two full classes had assembled inside, nearly half of their growing student body, and what little conversation there was died the moment he was spotted.
The city watch respected his position as the Crown Prince, and none of them were inclined to say anything but to verbally confirm an order. The former peasants saw distant, all-powerful nobility, and similarly remained quiet. It was a mindset they were going to need to lose. The druids Kleph brought were silent because everyone else was, though even they respected his power.
That was what Vess told him, anyway, but when it came to people she was usually right. What he was going to do now probably wasn't going to help that distance, but it was also necessary. His reputation was one of isolation and significant-though-unknown magical skill, a distant uncaring Prince who did strange rituals in his closed rooms.
That wasn't what he needed people to see him as. Especially not his mages, his very own base of supporters to-be. They needed to see him as strong, invested and competent.
The second he was accomplishing through teaching them, the latter could only come with time, and this was how he was planning to solve the first.
Fighting. Sparring, technically, but fighting.
Very few of his students knew how to fight with magic. Most couldn't even keep a matrix running reliably when stressed or distracted, let alone perform a proper disruption spell. Even still, it would hopefully leave an impression.
The crowd parted to let him through, Kleph waiting for him inside the circle. Runes had been etched on the floor, some of their more experienced students powering the basic shield and protecting the audience from any accidents. The druid nodded, arms folded, and Marcus nodded back.
"I'm fighting the Prince," Kleph said, glancing back at the watching students. "I expect a full page on our duel by tomorrow evening, from all the spells we used to the way we used them."
Short and sweet. People scrambled for paper, little wooden boards coming out to make notes on, and Marcus spoke after giving them a moment to settle. "The point of this is not to see who wins. It might be Kleph, it might be me, we are not trying to kill each other and are trying to keep our surroundings somewhat intact, and so this is not representative of a real fight."
"What would you do in a real fight?" someone called. Marcus turned to look at the kid, not even sixteen. The boy hesitated. "Uhm, my Prince?"
"I would order the city watch to kill him. There is no cheating in a fight. No honor. Either you live or you die, and if you die without having used every tool at your disposal you will have died stupid. Next time raise your hand."
The boy nodded rapidly, Marcus turning back to Kleph. The druid was holding a branch, which Marcus hadn't seen him conjure, and was using it to carve a rune into the floor. Marcus could have made his own preparations, and if he lost he was going to feel very stupid, but risks had to be taken.
This one had a negligible cost and a promising reward, and honestly he kind of missed being in a fight. A proper, magical fight. War was horrible, pain was distasteful, but there was a quality to fighting that made him feel alive.
Kleph signalled an end to his preparation by banishing the stick towards Marcus' head, making him take a step to the side. The telekinetic seal was one he was quite familiar with, though the banishing alteration Kleph made to the spell seemed self-made.
Marcus fired a basic magical missile in response, the rune at the druid's feet lighting up in reaction. A dome of power intercepted the attack, Marcus humming. Kleph half sneered, seemingly more out of habit than any true malice, and Marcus carved a destabilization rune into the air.
Power flooded the matrix even as he crafted three more spells, two of which being his own shield and accompanying power adaptor. The last was let loose a split second after the destabilization rune finished powering, sending a wave of dispelling magic at the druid.
The rune-enhanced shield flickered, though to Marcus' surprise it didn't vanish completely. It weakened enough that the ball of smoke managed to get inside, though, and Kleph vanished from sight.
The druid conjured a gust of wind while overlaying his shielding rune with a new one, and by the time Kleph could see again he had just enough time to watch Marcus lay a hand on his outer barrier.
Marcus etched a destabilization rune into the shield itself, powering it and feeling the whole construct vanish when he did. Kleph cursed and summoned a personal shield, taking up a valuable matrix in the process, and Marcus slammed his hand against it a moment later.
His fourth and last matrix dug greedily into his magical reserves as telekinetic power blew the druid away, the man's shield protecting him from harm as he impacted the sparring barrier. Kleph sprung to his feet a moment later, only to find two arcane fireballs hovering just inches from his shield.
"I surrender."
Marcus bled the two spell matrices dry, turning to the audience as Kleph straightened his clothing a cautious distance away. The arrogance in his gaze was gone, which was good. "You, get me a sparring mace. Everyone else, what happened and why?"
The woman he'd pointed to blinked and all but scrambled out of the room, Marcus looking at the others expectantly. No one spoke up until one of the older men did, looking like a farmer even in his new academy robes.
"The druid didn't move. My da' always said to keep moving in a fight, though I'm not sure how magic changes things."
His age was a rarity among the recruits, it was mostly younger souls who'd joined, but Marcus wasn't going to complain about someone having proper life experience. "Exactly right. A rune-created shield is good, it allows for static defences without having to concentrate on them, but it also allows me to set the pace. Anyone else?"
"You're a trained fighter," one of the city watch students said, his tone gravelly. "You've seen battle. Kleph hasn't. Not really."
"Elaborate?"
"I've worked with mages before. They rely on magic for everything. Attack, defence, sometimes even movement. The druid did. You didn't."
"The Prince has never been in a true fight." Kleph grumbled, tone carrying a little farther than he'd probably intended. Marcus silently blessed his sour disposition. The druid spoke up louder. "Again?"
"Two out of three, yes. Let's keep talking until my weapon gets here. Who can tell me why blunt force weapons work well against shields?"
One of the druids raised their hand, Marcus nodded to the woman, and the conversation started flowing more easily. Marcus let Kleph take over, this technically being his class, and was still pleased that the man had complained.
It was true, to a point. He'd never killed or even truly fought anything real. But the School of Life was real enough to give him experience, and the disconnect between expectation and reality only grew with Kleph's comment.
People would wonder what else they didn't know, and it would spread. One small step towards fixing his reputation, Vess having been right as usual.
His mace arrived, a mean-looking thing made completely of wood, and Kleph looked at it with a narrowed gaze. Conjured a stick and shaped it into a spear, its point tapering to a wicked point.
Marcus smiled, glanced at the few students keeping the protective barrier stable, then nodded to the druid.
It's good to fight again.
REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK p^o^q REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK
Marcus grunted, bringing his sword up just in time for his instructor to smash it aside. He shifted his footing, managing not to fall but receiving a solid kick to the stomach for his efforts.
His back hit the dirt, Marcus staying there for a few seconds to catch his breath. The instructor stepped back with a grimace. "Are you sure you wish to continue, my Prince? We have been training for almost three hours."
"I'm good. Fighting while exhausted is a crucial skill to learn, and I've been letting my martial practice slip for too long."
Vess spoke before the instructor could. "You're also pushing the limit on what your healing expertise can reliably fix, so take a break. Your appointment is here anyway."
Marcus looked, finding her to be right. Von, Emma and Somme were standing there somewhat awkwardly, probably not sure how to react at seeing the Prince covered in bruises and sweat, and he waved them over.
A healing matrix spun to life, one specialised for skin repair. Another joined it, relaxing and encouraging muscle growth, while a third made sure any minor bone damage was taken care of.
The three Court Mages watched him overlay three healing matrices and reacted in all kinds of interesting ways, though Vess would have to fill him in on the details later. Nearly all of his attention was consumed by keeping all three spells overlaid on his hand, leaving no room for anything else.
Healing was not his speciality, even if he was taking lessons with Margaret. The healer who'd looked after his body while his mind was in the artifact had since joined his Academy, too, which he was glad for.
Injuries were quite common, and mages that could heal were always in short supply.
"We have talked over your proposal," Somme began. "Gorman isn't happy, but few of the Court Mages are willing to entertain his complaints. Most of them think the Academy will fail anyway."
"Do you?"
Emma replied, polite but cold. "We wouldn't be here if we did, my Prince. The Academy is growing, the presence of the city watch is stabilizing the more unruly elements and your use of the Royal treasury to acquire more magical knowledge makes the library a tempting boon. Is the deal unchanged?"
"Half your time spent on teaching, half on your own projects," Marcus confirmed. "And, of course, your absolute loyalty. I'm only mostly joking about the latter part."
Somme smiled, the most eager of the three, while Emma turned a little colder still. Marcus let go of his healing matrices, muscles and skin still tender despite the healing. Approaching his limit, as Vess had said.
"You are the Crown Prince," Von said, ever the diplomat. "Our loyalty is yours regardless."
Marcus snorted. "I'm not interested in inherited oaths. What I'm doing is going to make enemies, you know that. You're friends with some of them, have many more as your acquaintances. Duke Hargraf isn't leaving until after the Royal Wedding and scheming all the while, the Barons seem content with settling in and bribing the people with food, trade with the Empire is lessening by the day. To speak nothing of the Redwater Guilds, increased banditry with the gathering of nobility in Redwater and my father's continued poor health."
"You need mages," Von said. "We can give you mages. You have accomplished much with talented outsiders, but we are Court Mages. Training others is part of our duty."
"Do you concur with Von, Emma?"
"I do, my Prince."
"Somme?"
"Teaching is fun," she replied, far more bright than her companions. "Nurturing talent, seeing them excel, giving homework. I can't wait to get started!"
Marcus glanced at Vess, who nodded minutely. No lies that she could tell. It would have to do. "Then you start in the morning. Rooms will be made available for you to sleep in."
The three bowed, neutral and excited and stiffly respectively, and Marcus turned away as Royal Guards escorted them outside. That was one issue dealt with, at least.
He had almost a full hour of reading time before his next obligation, too, and as he moved to wash he contemplated that this was exactly why he hadn't wanted to be King in the first place. So many people putting demands on your time until almost nothing was left over, even if he had to admit that growing his own base of power felt pretty good.
Better than it probably should, really, though the near constant annoyances ensured he didn't grow addicted. But one hour of reading later and he found himself giving a speech, welcoming a group of seventeen new students to the Academy, and after giving his rehearsed lecture about duty and self-discipline Vess tapped her arm.
He sighed, nodding towards Vess who in turn was whispering instructions to the squad of Royal Guards as he finished up, fifteen of the seventeen new students leaving the room and following an impatient Gretched.
That woman was almost perfect for teaching wide-eyed, enthusiastic mages about magic. Stern, demanding, exact and unmotivating. Magic was dangerous, and if they couldn't take her being a little mean, then they had no hope of controlling a fundamental force of the universe.
He turned towards the two remaining students, an older housewife and a young man. The housewife looked nervous as Vess whispered into Marcus' ear, her companion mirroring that expression near perfectly. But not quite, and as Vess explained he found the man looking more suspicious by the moment.
She turned away, Marcus focusing on the man for now. "You're a spy."
"M-My Prince?" the man stuttered, appearing just as confused as the woman. But Marcus had spent quite a bit of time around soldiers, and the man had shifted when accused. Shifted as if to make ready for combat. "I'm not, I swear!"
"On what?"
The spy hesitated. "My Prince?"
"You swear you're not a spy. On what do you swear? Your wealth? Your health? Your life?"
The man kneeled, which for reasons he wasn't willing to investigate irritated Marcus more than the attempted infiltration. Thank the Gods for Vess. The spy managed to put a quivering tone to his voice, but his body was tense. "Please, my Prince. I swear on my life."
"How about your soul?" Marcus asked, gesturing to Vess. The succubus took a step forward, an intimidating-looking but ultimately useless artifact appearing in her hand. The man startled, looking at it with real fear. Not someone knowledgeable about magic, then. Good. "Do you swear on your eternal soul that you're speaking the truth?"
Now the man hesitated, but Marcus had already decided. The man was a spy, and in the vanishingly small chance that Vess was wrong and his own observations had failed him, he wasn't willing to take the risk.
"I don't know who hired me!" the spy pleaded, half lunging forwards. Not to attack, Marcus was pretty sure, though he never made it that far. Vess lashed out with a kick, stopping the man cold before he could make it halfway. "Plea-"
Vess sneered down at the man, a hint of satisfaction appearing in her eyes. "Guards, take him to be interrogated. If he doesn't cooperate fully I'll see if one of my sisters has use for his soul."
The Royal Guards dragged him away as Marcus turned to the housewife, who by now was shaking with fear. He raised a calming hand, half wondering if Vess really did have sisters. He'd never asked.
"I apologize for that unpleasantness. I assure you, you're not in any trouble." The woman didn't look overly reassured. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Marcus. Vess asked you to stay behind for a different reason, though I've no idea how she noticed it. Did you know you are a shapeshifter?"
"I-I'm Ponn. No, I didn't. I didn't know!"
"You're untrained," Marcus assured. "Have you ever noticed any unpleasant features disappear? A scar, things you didn't like about yourself? An allergy to silver, perhaps?"
Ponn frowned, growing more confused than afraid. "I had terrible acne when I was a teenager. My mother tried everything she could to get rid of it, we even went to a witch for some ointment, but nothing worked. We didn't have the money for a magical healer, I had a date with a boy I liked the next day, then I woke up and it was gone. I always assumed the ointment simply took a while to work. And how did you know I get rashes from silver?"
"I don't think you're particularly strong," Vess said, all smiles now. It wasn't even an act, Marcus knew. "Which doesn't actually mean you have less potential, just that it takes more effort to train your abilities. I would be more than happy to tell you what I know?"
Vess led the bewildered Ponn away, shooting Marcus a smile as she did. One that was somewhat more smug than the last one, even if not quite as predatory. A natural shapeshifter, one created when an ancestor of hers had children with a demonic one, was a great boon.
They weren't quite as strong as demonic shapeshifters, but unlike them no Hellish influence clung to their souls. They were purely human, though with a rare ability. Most magic wouldn't pick up on it, and she in turn could still perform magic herself. With the right training she could also learn to 'stem' her silver allergy, which would make her a very good infiltrator and spy.
That or she already was one, but Vess would be making sure. Marcus didn't think so.
The door opened not even ten seconds after Vess had left, a student charging inside. The woman gasped, out of breath, and straightened with some effort as Marcus turned to her. "Gretched's advanced class managed to summon a shapeshifter and it got loose."
Marcus' eye twitched.