“To reach Rank 3 and fulfill Captain’s mission requirements, you will have to demonstrate three key aptitudes,” Martha was pacing from side to side as she began her lesson. Dolor, still shaken from experiencing Martha’s illusory torture, was trying to focus on what she was saying, with mixed success.

  “Firstly, for Rank 1, you will have to know the basics of magic theory, including the most common types of magic and their interactions. For Rank 2, you will have to show that you can cast three basic spells from at least four different spell categories, so twelve spells. And finally, for Rank 3, you will have to showcase that you can retain uninterrupted control of your magicarm for at least fifteen minutes. As I said earlier, normally, a magekind of average talent would reach Rank 3 in approximately five to ten years. This allows a standard human magekind recruit trained from age 6 to reach Rank 3 by age 16, while those showing more promise can reach it by age 11. That way, they have all the necessary skills to begin their mandatory fifteen-year military service to the Leader after finishing their studies at the Scholium.”

  Dolor had heard of Scholiums. They were schools for magekind children, all of whom were required to enlist in a fifteen-year service as frontline junior officers. Dolor remembered seeing these magekind officers on the battlefield. Despite being dressed in purple office uniforms, they were nonetheless only children, unprepared to face the horrors of battle in real life rather than in the retellings of their instructors or their academic books.

  The most fortunate of the magekind were, of course, not subject to the same treatment and usually paid the government handsomely to have their illustrious progeny get an honorary military title, a mandatory requirement for further work in government or occupying senior management roles in industry. Those who couldn’t afford an honorary title had the option of paying for their child to be stationed farther from the front lines, with the amount of mana tickets given directly corresponding to how far from the heat of battle the officer cadet would be stationed.

  Dolor remembered feeling sorry for those teenagers who were forcibly put in command of manaless regiments comprised of grown men old enough to be their officers’ fathers. Most of them, understandably, tried to put forth a brave and determined facade, which manifested in the only possible form for teenagers with legally recognized superiority, in the form of bullying their soldiers or deriding them in some other way. Most often, these facades would crack and crumble at the sound of the first enemy artillery shelling. However, those junior officers, “juniors” as they were known, who would survive their first baptism by fire would often go on and make good commanding officers. The price for that dubious success was the complete eradication of any trace of childhood innocence within these young people, leaving them with distant facial expressions that Dolor and his battle brothers found disturbing for the terrifying fish-like blank gaze devoid of any life that emanated from the eyes of the juniors.

  “Before we proceed, I am sure you know this, but non-military use of magic in the Free Republic is strictly regulated and requires a special Casting Permit to be practiced in civilian life. Such permits are obtained by magic-based industrial organizations and private citizens who wish to practice magic outside of the battlefield. Every street has special mana detection devices which measure the fluctuations of mana in the environment and alert the authorities of unauthorized magic use when a certain threshold is breached,” Martha continued, despite noticing Dolor’s clear struggle to keep up with what she was saying.

  “There are four basic magic types that you need to learn for now. These magics are the basis of the Conclavist magic system and are called categories, are color-coded, and correspond to a certain element. Hey, are you listening?” Martha could no longer ignore Dolor spacing out. She snapped her fingers, and two tiny crackles of purple lightning zapped Dolor in each temple, causing him to quickly regain focus on the lecture.

  “Ow, damn it, what was that for? I was listening.” Dolor did not like the feel of these purple lightning spells, even the tiny ones.

  “You weren’t listening attentively enough. Now, what you just experienced is the first, and arguably most important, magic type: purple magic, which corresponds to the element of lightning. That means it gives the wielder a huge arsenal of lightning spells, the power and effectiveness of which depend on the caster’s mana reserve as well as technical and theoretical knowledge. That includes various lightning bolt spells, chain lightning, etc. However, while this is the most obvious use of purple magic, it’s far from the only one,” as she said that, Martha cast a spell that covered her legs in purple crackles of lightning. If it wasn’t for the purple glow, Dolor could not even see how she disappeared from being within his arm’s reach into the darkness of the far corner of the storage area they were in. She suddenly appeared right behind Dolor and tapped him on the shoulder. As Dolor turned around to face Martha, she was no longer there, now standing in her initial position.

  “The purple category of spells includes such support and enhancement spells such as Burst of Speed or BoS, as it is often abbreviated, a spell that allows one to boost their body’s speed by roughly 400% for a short period of time ranging from 2 and up to 5 seconds, again depending on the caster’s mana reserve and their technical and theoretical abilities. Some are rumored to be able to maintain it for up to 7 seconds, but I have never met such monsters. My little demonstration right now was a 5BoS, or a five-second Burst of Speed. It may seem insignificant, but even a 2-second burst of speed could give one enough time to catch up to someone they are chasing or to escape imminent danger, including bullets and spells. Any questions so far?” Martha paused, realizing she may have rambled for a little too long. She couldn’t help it; she genuinely enjoyed talking about this stuff.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Dolor was listening intently and still trying to process Burst of Speed. He had seen it before, when Schmal cast it to rush to Mons, but he was too shocked at that point to pay any attention to it. This was a truly terrifying power. Dolor realized that the gulf between the manaless and the magekind was not only in their legal rights and privileges but also in their overall abilities. These people were gods compared to the manaless. How could they ever agree to let the manaless be their equals? This crazy bitch Martha appeared to be very powerful, and yet there were people out there who were so much more powerful than she was that she considered them “monsters,” while for Dolor and most other citizens of the Republic, Martha would be considered as monstrous as they come. Dolor thought that perhaps we often seek to paint those more capable than us as freaks and monsters, and those who are less capable than us as insignificant rabble, beneath our contempt.

  “What do those numbers mean? Just spell duration?” Dolor snapped back, realizing he needed to ask a question to appear like he was listening to Martha and avoid being zapped in the head again.

  “Correct. You will notice that spell names might have numbers in front or behind their abbreviated names. The numbers placed before the spell name correspond to its duration measured in seconds. Those numbers placed after the spell name correspond to its overall potency, measured in potency units on a 1 to 100 scale.”

  “Understood, please continue.”

  Dolor barked as Martha sent a zap of purple lightning straight at the tip of his nose, causing Dolor to start massaging it with his palm to remove the unpleasant sensation.

  “What was that for, for fuck’s sake?” Dolor was genuinely dismayed.

  “I don’t need your permission or order to continue. Are we clear?” asked Martha.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Dolor knew arguing was pointless and would result in yet more zaps, so he accepted his fate.

  “Purple magic can also be used in other ways, the most important of which is the ability to affect one’s brain and nervous system. While enough of a lightning shock can fry someone to a crisp or paralyze them, such high-potency spells are hard to cast and take up a lot of mana, making them rather ineffective for most magekind. However, with targeted electrical manipulation of a target’s brain, one can induce feelings of unimaginable pain or euphoria, an urge for unyielding loyalty or an unexpected betrayal, and cause them to see hallucinations which can cause extensive damage to one’s psyche and break them mentally to the point where they essentially become a lunatic or a vegetable.”

  “So that’s the thing you did to me earlier, where I was floating in the air with my limbs detached?” Dolor shuddered as he was reminded of the illusion magic cast on him by Martha earlier.

  “Correct, except you thought that you were floating with your limbs detached. To me, you looked like you were on the floor crying in a fetal position,” Martha smirked as she delivered her line.

  “You will see it used in several ways. Sometimes it is used by special units on the battlefield during infiltration or sabotage operations, or when we need to liquidate an enemy officer or high official. So, for targeted surgical operations.”

  “Why not use it to cause psychological damage to enemy armies? That way we can just walk in without fighting anyone, no?”

  “No, because casting these spells requires a lot of mana and a great level of technique and precision, as the caster has to delicately fluctuate the target’s brain activity in a certain way. Therefore, it is impossible to do it on a mass scale with any sort of precision or efficiency. Believe me, the Conclave tried to use a purple illusion or similar purple neural spells on a battlefield, and it resulted in heavy mass psychosis both for enemy combatants as well as the Republican troops, and even the casters themselves, who, unlike the other two mentioned groups, are a precious resource that cannot be wasted.”

  Dolor thought that she was privy to some classified information, and this little slip-up confirmed that. However, having seen what he had in his four years of active combat, he was not in any way surprised that the episode Martha was telling him about took place.

  “I see, please co…” he caught himself just before he was about to utter the word.

  “It takes different forms,” Martha continued, “from militia officers using purple spells to control their spell hounds to SSB and others using it for various torture and interrogation techniques, as well as for magical lobotomization of those disloyal to the Leader and the Conclave. In many ways, Dolor, purple magic is the foundational pillar of the Republic. In case you hadn’t noticed, purple is a color that is prominently featured on our flag, our uniforms, and in other places where the State exists, which is pretty much everywhere. Purple signifies the Conclave’s hidden power to retain control over society and the State through psychological and sometimes physical manipulation. It is the reason why Crudele managed to stay in power after the Revolt and to expand the Conclave’s control over all spheres of society.”

  “Ah, I see, very symbolic, despite being kind of on the nose, I have to say. So, are you going to teach me spells now?” Dolor was slowly regaining his ability to be a smartass and pushing the envelope. He felt like Martha and he had established somewhat of a rapport.

  “There will be time for that. We are not done with theory, however. Theory is very important because, without it, even with the greatest spell arsenal, you will be helpless.” Martha turned around and headed for the door of the storage area. “The Deck is about to open soon. I must attend to my duties as the head waitress. I suggest you ask the cooks for a staff lunch, and I will be expecting you on the dining floor in 45 minutes sharp.”

  “Wait... the dining floor?” Dolor was taken aback.

  “Yes, of course. You are now employed by Petros Vask and therefore employed by the Lower Deck as one of its staff members. It’s part of your cover from the State, and besides, you don’t have any other choice. You and I will continue our lecture as we serve the customers, and after the restaurant closes, we will reconvene here and continue our lesson. And remember, if you thought I was strict as a magic instructor, I am even stricter as the head waitress, because the Lower Deck is where Petros’ money and reputation are on the line. So, do not fuck up, Patiens!” Martha left the storage room, leaving Dolor alone in its dank, echoing darkness.

  “Fuck, this is going to be a hard week,” Dolor sighed deeply and followed Martha.

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