Chapter IV.XIX (4.19) - Numerology F

  “Take a seat, take a seat.” Professor Knoff ushered them all into class with a jolly smile and a wave of his hands. He was his more rational self today. Which Kizu found unsurprising due to the subject matter at hand. He doubted the crazed version of Knoff had much interest in advanced arithmetic and algebra.

  They were still in the usual cave Knoff taught in for his brewing classes, but there were no cauldrons or ingredients in sight. Instead there were simply long tables with parchment and quills. Mathematical formulas hung on banners on the walls, covering up the shelves of bottled and dried ingredients.

  “Everyone comfortable?” Knoff asked.

  There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd of students. The seats were surprisingly nice. They were padded and covered in soft felt. Far better than any of Kizu’s other classes.

  “Good, good. Do try not to get too comfortable though. Sleeping will result in rude awakenings!”

  Kizu glanced over at Ione who wouldn’t meet his eye. Unlike every other class he shared with her, she was oddly alert. Not the least bit sleepy looking. Notably, Potions S was one of the few classes last semester that she wasn’t with him in. He’d never seen her interact with Knoff before.

  While looking over at Ione beside him, he caught someone at a table behind him smirking in his direction. Unlike Ione, Akira met his eye, unapologetic about being caught staring. The prince twirled a quill through his fingers, the feather moving fast enough to blur.

  “Numerology is a very special class. Many of you will leave Shinzou Academy and go out into a world where hurling fireballs and zapping things with electricity hold very little relevance. If that ends up being the case for you, there’s nothing wrong with cultivating hobbies, but you will find yourself relying on the lessons of this class far more than any of the others.” Professor Knoff paced by them, meeting each student’s eye as he passed. “I am under no illusion as to who attends my classes. Talent rarely qualifies you for this academy. At any given semester, there are only 800 slots available for students. And qualifying for one of those spots requires significant pull and funding. And, as such, most of you come from backgrounds where accounting tends to be more relevant than punching.” His gaze then lingered on Ione and he smiled slightly. “Of course, some of your families do find both applicable.

  “Regardless. My class will be vital for your future. While only the very highest level students will ever be able to access the magical potential within the art of numbers, I assure you that these lessons will be essential in the majority of your future lives.”

  A hand went up and Professor Knoff gestured for the student to speak.

  “What if…well, I want to be a delver. This isn’t important for that, right?”

  “On the contrary. Mathematical formulas have saved many delvers’ lives down in the Great Labyrinth. Numerology formulas are often paired alongside divination spells to accurately gauge locations and positioning. I daresay that you will find a use for my class, regardless of what career path you chose.”

  There was a snicker and all attention turned to a smirking Akira. The prince stopped twirling the quill and flicked it into a pen holder. Professor Knoff raised an eyebrow at him, beckoning him to elaborate.

  “Every teacher thinks their class is the most important,” Akira replied flippantly. “You should hear Krimpit talk about politics. Or Grove on divination. You want your class to be the most important because it helps your ego.”

  “True.” Knoff nodded. “I do have a bias for my specialty. And I assume my fellow faculty hold similar preferences. However, my class is different from every other subject at the academy. That is an undeniable fact. Do any of you know what that difference might be?”

  Kizu considered the question. There were a lot of things about this class that might be considered different from his other studies. Mathematics were rarely directly related to the magical subjects. At least, as far as he knew.

  Knoff sat down at his desk at the head of the classroom and watched them ponder his question. He drummed his fingers on the wood of the desk, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as his students softly muttered to one another.

  “Anyone?” Knoff asked after waiting a minute.

  Kizu had overheard a few theories from nearby students, but clearly not anything anyone felt confident enough to voice. There was a moment of silence.

  “Then allow me to explain. You fail an elemental spell, you risk electrocuting yourself. You fail healing, you risk causing permanent damage to someone’s body. You fail at enchanting, you risk creating a cursed object. You fail at potions, you risk a cauldron of acid bubbling over. What happens if you fail at numerology?”

  “Nothing?” someone guessed.

  “Nearly there,” Knoff praised. “Not nothing. You get to try again. That is the great benefit of this class. You are free from the shackles of fear. You can fail and try again, over and over.”

  “If I fail at understanding something in astronomy, it doesn’t mean the world ends,” Kizu spoke up. “Everything still happens regardless.”

  “There is no true answer to astronomy,” Knoff explained. “Simply theories. Even those we believe to be correct may actually have meant something else entirely. The same can be said for political theory. Krimpit loves to walk his higher ranked students through different political scenarios. But there are so many contradictions and nuances to politics, there is no true answer. Only hypothetical possibilities. Numerology has an answer that can be found through trial and error. And it will never change.”

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  “History has concrete answers too,” someone said.

  “No,” Kizu said. “It doesn’t. It’s reliant on information from unreliable sources. And there’s no trial and error method to get more answers.” He paused. “Well, maybe there is, but not an obvious one.”

  “Precisely! Do you understand how wonderfully unique my subject is? I want you all to fail! And to try again. There is always one correct answer in numerology, but there are infinite paths in which to find it. The same solution can be calculated by a dozen different formulas. Experiment and find answers.”

  From there, Knoff began listing off the most basic foundational formulas they’d be using in the class. While Knoff spoke, Kizu did his best to keep up with his note taking, jotting down the fundamental equations that his professor said would be vital to understand. It all went over his head a bit at the moment, but Kizu had faith that he could break down his notes later and extract the important bits of information.

  By the time class ended, his head was spinning. Dropping his quill in his bag, he flexed his sore fingers and prepared to head to the library. He thought changing up his studies might give his brain a bit of a break. Like exercising a different muscle. Maybe he’d read some astronomy books. He’d let that study fall to the wayside recently.

  “Kizu,” Ione called after him.

  He paused and looked back at his friend. She returned his quizzical look with a sheepish smile.

  “Just, wait a minute before you run off to ogle magical theory books.”

  His heart quickened and he sat back down. “Did you…want to study together?” The words felt a bit thick on his tongue.

  “No,” she said bluntly. “Wait. Actually, sure. I guess you could phrase it like that.” She carefully watched as the last F student left Professor Knoff’s classroom.

  “You wished to speak to me?” the professor said, approaching their table. “Is it safe to assume that this is not about numbers?”

  “Definitely. Kizu told me about that potion you had him brew for you last semester.”

  “Ah.” Professor Knoff frowned slightly. “I wish you had handled our deal with more discretion, Kaga Kizu, but I can not fault you. I did not specifically state it was a private matter.”

  “All I said was that it was a soul potion,” Kizu said quickly, trying to clear his name. “I didn’t talk about what it did exactly or why you wanted it.”

  “What he did say though is that he’d help me with my own soul problem,” Ione said. “I…I have a stowaway. And I want her gone.”

  “A stowaway?” Knoff’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Actually, yes. I do think Professor Oasaji mentioned something about soul damage recently. Come over to my desk. I have the note somewhere.”

  They did as he asked. Kizu stood in front of the desk awkwardly as Knoff moved some papers around on his desk and frowned.

  “Wait, no. This note is about Kaga Kizu. Unable to create proper summons…I apologize, I appear to have mixed up my thoughts. The beginning of every semester is always so hectic. Please, let us first go back a step. Kajima Ione, can you speak candidly about your soul’s original condition?”

  “Sene and I have a split soul,” Ione said.

  “I assumed as much. It’s rare, but not a completely unheard of condition for identical twins. Estimates place it at a 3% chance. And a common result is for rather lopsided talent in magical disciples.”

  “Wait,” Kizu said, raising a hand. “You and Sene have the same soul?”

  “We did. They’re pretty different now.”

  “Please continue,” Knoff urged. “Your fractured soul makes sense. What exactly is your pressing predicament?”

  Ione chewed on her lip and stared up at the ceiling for a minute. Knoff patiently waited for her to sort through her thoughts.

  “A witch cast a spell while dying,” she finally said. “I think she latched a piece of herself onto the opening in my soul. The missing area where Sene used to be. The witch’s name is Chiame. I can always feel her there, pressing at my mind trying to break in. And…it’s important because she’s taken control of my body more than once now.”

  “Interesting,” Professor Knoff mulled over that information. “Is there a trigger for her reactions?”

  “Usually she seizes control when there’s something that involves her life. Like, things that create powerful emotions from her.” Ione brought her eyes down from the ceiling, but now stared in the opposite direction, straight down at Knoff’s wooden desk. She set her teeth before finishing. “There…was also the time she took control when I was sleeping.”

  “Explain.” Knoff’s tone was serious.

  “When I was back home I had a few glasses to drink. Not enough to black out or anything, I was just working on my bestiary cards. My uncle always used to say ‘write drunk, edit sober,’ and I thought I’d try that. I’m not a novelist like him, but thought maybe it could work. And my cards did have some bolder and funnier statements about—”

  “Ione,” Kizu said, as gently as possible, “You’re rambling.”

  “Right. Well, after I went to bed, I woke up several hours later in the woods with a ritual divination circle dug into the ground with a stick.”

  “Anything since then?” Professor Knoff asked.

  “No. I haven’t drank since then either.”

  “A wise decision considering your situation.”

  “My situation makes me want to drink more,” Ione muttered.

  “Your predicament is not too dissimilar to my own,” Professor Knoff said. “My soul is splintered. However, where I want to re-fuse my soul back together, your goal is to remove the non native chunk.”

  Kizu blinked as Professor Knoff’s words caused an idea to cross his mind. But he filed it away for later. He’d need to ask Aoi about it later, and it really wasn’t all that vital to the conversation on hand.

  “Still, I may know of a few different directions to point you in,” Professor Knoff continued. “Kizu, you’re familiar with all the ingredients I have on hand for soul brews. Perhaps you have an idea?”

  He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it. You have splinters from that dead wood tree. The one that grows up in the Blight Pass of Tross. I thought maybe since it was known for soul destruction, it could be an ingredient. And then there’s of course a few different things we used last semester that I might be able to repurpose.”

  “Excellent. I’m glad you recall the ingredients necessary. Now, I need to do some paperwork, but you are of course still welcome to use the academy’s resources. I trust your skill level to handle this with minimal risks.”

  Kizu thanked the professor and entered the potions area with Ione. He looked around, cast iron cauldrons, shelves stocked with herbs and preserved ingredients, counters covered in instruments. Then he let out a long breath. Finally. He was finally back in his element.

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