Chapter IV.XVII (4.17) - Conjuring F

  “You must first master the use of the summoning circle if you wish any measure of success in this class.” Professor Oasaji trotted across the front of the classroom. Like last year, it was in an outdoor courtyard. Unlike last year, this area had scattered patches of concrete strewn throughout with an especially large slab of stone on the wall at the front of the classroom. “Thoroughly examine the diagram above. The interior is extraordinarily plain for the basic objects you will be conjuring first in this class. The more complex the object or creature you create, the more complex the summoning circle.”

  Professor Oasaji waved a wing and the massive stone’s surface behind him shifted, more and more intricate lines and symbols coming into view. Seconds passed. The summoning circle continued to form above his head. Kizu blinked. It didn’t stop. Finally, when nearly every shred of the massive circle was filled in with detail, the display halted.

  “This is the standard summoning circle for a magical creature known as a minotaur. They prowl around in the western plains. They’re said to be creatures born of the Great Labyrinth Sekai.” The summoning circle faded on the enchanted display, replaced by the sketch of a half-man, half-bull creature. The image’s eyes looked down its brown snout at them. It reminded Kizu a bit of the Kemon. Except it was even more beast-like and its black eyes lacked any humanity.

  “It looks so mean,” one of the nearby first years said quietly.

  The turkey professor took a step toward them, chalk between his talons. He stood perched on a patch of concrete. Then, with what had to be magically enhanced speed, he sketched out a circle in a blur of movement.

  Nobody in class spoke, everyone enthralled by the master summoner in action. Every second the summoning circle expanded in detail. Not even Ione had this level of skill.

  In a fraction of the time it took the incredibly quick display earlier, Oasaji completed his summoning circle. Then, tossing aside the stub of chalk remaining, he placed a talon on the edge of his work.

  The stone before him erupted with color along the chalk markings. Several students fell back in surprise or covered their eyes. Kizu blinked, but didn’t look away. The white light quickly shifted into one of maroon and a creature pulled itself from out of the circle.

  Unlike the image, this minotaur had black hair and eye sockets that burned with a green fire.

  “Why is my summon different?” Oasaji asked the class.

  “Because-”

  “Someone other than Miss Kajima,” Oasaji interjected.

  Kizu looked over to see a dejected Sene with her mouth still hanging open, as if stuck mid sentence. He’d forgotten she’d be attending this class with him. Having her alongside him in an F ranked class instead of Ione was more than a little odd. But it definitely was Sene. Despite being perhaps the absolute worst summoner in the academy, Sene still was more than a bit knowledgeable on the subject and ready to answer any theoretical questions.

  “Kaga,” Oasaji called out suddenly. “What are your thoughts on this? Why does my summon have a different appearance.”

  Kizu broke out of his thoughts and mentally scrambled. He hadn’t really been paying much attention. Quickly, he looked down at the professor’s summoning circle. The summoned minotaur snorted and glared at him with those impossible eyes. But Kizu ignored that as he scanned the circle.

  “The pattern is different,” he said, fairly confident in his response.

  “Good. In what way?”

  That was trickier. He hadn’t examined the earlier display that closely so he was missing half the puzzle. Then he spotted it. He had to blink several times to make certain he wasn’t seeing things.

  “Anyone–” Oasaji started, taking his attention from Kizu after half a minute of examinations.

  “There’s Primordial writing inside,” Kizu blurted. “It says something about fire. I don’t think that was in the first circle.”

  Professor Oasaji paused, then refocused on Kizu. “Correct. Well spotted. I did not realize anyone other than Miss Kajima bothered with linguistics in this class. Primordial is, indeed, written on the northern rim along the third interior circle. Primordial is quite useful for alterations of conjured objects. Though creatures are a bit more finicky.

  “I digress. This is all far above this class’s level of summoning skills. You need not worry about the nuances of altering summons. You simply need to know that they can be altered. The slightest shift in your circle can change the creature dramatically. And, unlike my minotaur here, most alterations are not intentional and do not lead to stable summons. At best, you’ll expend blood for no result. At worst…these small mistakes are the leading cause of summoner deaths.”

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  “Death?” one pale faced student repeated.

  Oasaji waved one of his wings. “Not possible from any curriculum you’ll be studying this semester. Simply be aware that it happens. Frequently. Do not mess with summoning rituals that you’re unfamiliar with.”

  Everyone in class nodded solemnly.

  “Now. Any questions before I introduce to you your first circle? I want to see you conjuring by the end of class.”

  A shaky hand went up. Oasaji called on it.

  “You keep saying ‘summoning’ but isn’t this class called ‘Conjuring F’? Is there a difference?”

  “It depends on who you ask. More commonly mages refer to the art as ‘conjuring’ when it involves a non-living object and ‘summoning’ when it is a creature. However, there is no hard and fast rule about the terminology. It’s often used interchangeably and you won’t hear push-back from any rational mage. A good question. Any others?”

  Nobody else said anything.

  “Good. Now, examine this circle here and begin working on sketching it out. I want to see it on paper before you take a hold of any chalk.”

  A new display appeared and the students got to work trying to copy it with quill and paper.

  Kizu had spent a fair bit of time drawing out divination ritual designs. Summoning circles weren’t too different, though it seemed to rely more heavily on symmetry and the circle itself, while divination rituals often sprawled out chaotically. The circle in question was pretty basic. Professor Oasaji didn’t tell anyone what exactly it conjured. Apparently that wasn’t important to the process itself.

  After getting a nod of approval from the turkey professor, Kizu graduated from sketching the summoning circle, over to the chalk. He crouched among half a dozen other students as they attempted to copy their circles on the courtyard’s patches of concrete.

  Kizu felt pretty good about his circle, but he double and triple checked it. Not wanting to be the first to try and fail, he glanced over to his peers. In the time it took him to draw, more had begun working with chalk. The only one who had their work so far was Sene. A flawless copy of their assignment in front of her. But she made no move to activate it, instead glaring at it with more malice than he’d ever seen from her. It made the looks she regularly gave Faible seem kindly in comparison.

  “Kaga Kizu,” Professor Oasaji said, trotting up to him. “Your circle appears adequate. Cast your spell.”

  Kizu set a hand on the edge of the chalk. There was no reason to feel nervous. He’d summoned a creature once before with Ione. This should be significantly easier than that with Oasaji’s tutelage.

  He channeled into the circle.

  Nothing.

  He frowned. Before, with Ione, the summoning spell had a similar sensation to when he channeled into divination rituals. He felt this should be the same. Kizu tried again.

  Still nothing.

  He turned to ask Professor Oasaji about the spell, but the turkey had turned his attention to a different student. This one had successfully begun the conjuring spell. His chalk markings glowed and a long, wooden branch appeared in the center of the circle. Several other students clapped and the boy proudly beamed at the praise. The first to successfully complete a summon this semester.

  Soon others activated their spells. Kizu kept at his own project for several minutes but continued to hit a wall. He decided to watch the others for a bit to see if he could gleam some bit of insight from them.

  Each stick conjured looked slightly different. The type of wood, the shading of it. Many even bent slightly differently. Professor Oasaji explained that despite them all using the same summoning circle, their individual perceptions on the objects resulted in uniquely designed summons. However, unlike his earlier physical alterations to the minotaur summoning circle, the differences between the students’ sticks were purely cosmetic by nature. Despite what it looked like, they would all be the same material. It was possible to slightly alter the material’s density or durability, but that required both more blood and more skill than any of the F class could put into their summoning spells.

  Kizu watched as one of his peers struggled to pull his conjured stick out of his circle. Unlike the rest of those in the class, his summon was still halfway stuck. The boy strained and put his back into a mighty pull.

  Instead of the stick popping out of the circle, it snapped and the boy careened backward, tumbling into another student’s circle while she was in the act of conjuring her own stick.

  There was a shout of surprise and the girl pulled back. Instead of a straight stick, a crooked ugly twiggy branch was in the center of her circle.

  Professor Oasaji went to them and scolded the boy and pointed at the marking in the girl’s chalk markings that the boy’s elbow had smudged. After an explanation of the importance of exactness, the professor turned his attention to the spectating Kizu.

  Only then did the professor finally seem to notice Kizu’s failure.

  “The connection should be simple,” Professor Oasaji said, peering down his beak at Kizu’s summoning circle. “An innate sensation established simply by the act of creation. I witnessed you draw the circle before you. Channel into your creation.”

  Kizu tried. His eyes narrowed as he poured his magic into the circle, pushing against the spell with the entirety of his concentration. Beads of sweat trickled down his brow.

  He was failing. The circle remained completely unbothered by his effort. But he couldn’t stay behind the rest of the class. He needed to advance. If he didn’t increase his place in the rankings, he’d never get the information from the headmaster about his sister. There was no room for failure. He needed this to work. He would find Anna.

  Another push of brute force. He gasped at the effort, the air sucked in feeling hot and unnatural. But finally, he felt his magic connect to the circle in front of him. He grinned madly.

  “Is it supposed to glow like that?” someone asked.

  Kizu blinked the sweat from his eyes, hands preoccupied touching the edge of his circle to wipe it away. He felt a moment of dizzy confusion. His chalk markings emanated a red light. Not the white one of his classmates’ circles.

  “Move!”

  Wind snatched him off the ground and tossed him across the courtyard. He tumbled, smacked around by gravity.

  Then he heard screams.

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