Prismatic Education Begins With A Spark 32 (MTG/Multicross)

Prismatic Education 32

“Are you sure what you heard was true? Because I’ve heard otherwise.”

“It’s true,” The disguised Oriq mage insisted, “They just take in mages and throw them out with the excuse that they’re ‘not good enough’.”

“I think you’re referring to Silverquill. That one is the most strict because cutting each other down is part of their curriculum.”

“Really? How do you know?” One of the other apprentice mages asked me.

“I learned what I could beforehand, of course. So,” I directed my next words at the Oriq mage, “Don’t be so fast to judge.”

“You’re just-”

“Now, now,” I tapped my fingernail on the table, creating a loud sound that cut him off, “Before we start arguing… how about some introductions?”

The fellow mages shook themselves slightly, as though awakening from a light trance. I saw a few of them nodding in agreement, and one extroverted gnome began introducing herself first. There was Demi the halfling, Amber the gnome, Shiyafi the earth genasi, and Zyx the human. The Oriq mage just made an excuse about not wanting to share his name with strangers, which the others clearly found odd, but didn’t press him about.

Subtle, but flimsy… I put on a polite and innocent smile for the Oriq mage, who was wearing an annoyed expression on his face. But his disguise is almost undetectable… must be due to a magical tool.

To his credit, he didn’t give up, trying to discourage the hopeful students from following through with their dreams of studying at Strixhaven, but without the mental magic he had been using before, it wasn’t having much of an effect.

On my end, I was sharing a few details I knew about the school, stuff that anyone who did basic research about it would know. The five different colleges and some of the subjects that each of them taught, the Biblioplex and other prominent buildings, and other things. With a bit of encouragement, I got some of my tablemates to share where they hoped to go and what they intended to do.

My senses could pick up the strengthening light within them, and I smiled inwardly. I doubted I would ever get tired of seeing this simple enthusiasm in pursuing one’s desires.

However, there was one who wasn’t happy about it.

“Fine,” The mage spat, “Go join those elites if that’s what you want. I’ve no words for ignoramuses like you.”

He stalked off, leaving an awkward atmosphere at the table. 

I’d capture him, but there aren’t any nearby authorities to turn him over to, that I know of, at least. Better to just thwart his recruitment efforts. “Ah, don’t pay that guy any mind. I know some people like that, they’re stubborn in their beliefs. So, anyone like to share how they awakened to their magic?”

I doubted I would recall their faces if I ever encountered them again, but for the evening, it was a pleasant conversation that we brief acquaintances had over a shared meal.

I picked up quite a few tidbits of information along the way, not only from them, but from the other patrons present. The skirmishing between the nearby countries was dying down, making travel safe again, but now there was a need for people who could rebuild the infrastructure, meaning a growing need for healers or farmers. 

Another curious thing was that while I set out westwards through Lorehold, I was now southeast of Strixhaven. That was a lucky development, because it meant that the college I would arrive at first was Witherbloom, which was my intended destination. I was still a bit leery of having to enter Sedgemoor, but there was no avoiding it.

The most interesting piece of information was the location of two more snarls a few days’ travel from our current location. Being apprentice mages, none of them dared to get close to unregulated snarls, which could be very dangerous. I had been lucky with the Vineglimmer one because I could follow the patterns enough to avoid the dangerous sections, while my protective auras kept me safe from the Frostboil snarl.

A toxic growth that poisons living creatures and consumes their rotting bodies to maintain their growth… that’s a Witherbloom… I frowned as I tried to recall the term in the book, No, the name’s a synonym… ah, Necroblossom snarl. Black-Green in mana.

The description itself made me cringe, so I doubted I would be able to form a mana bond with such a place. Instead, I focused on the other one, which was apparently very easy to spot since it existed far above the ground. In fact, I was told that I could see it from a distance on a clear day, and it was even on the way to Strixhaven for me.

Amber described it as a mountain-shaped cloud floating over a plain. Despite its appearance resembling an angry thundercloud, it didn’t expend any rain or lightning on the plains below. Instead, it just created a constant threatening atmosphere, which was why nobody stayed too long in that area if they could help it.

Sounds like something I’d like to see. I made a mental note to visit it on the way back.

“Well, it was nice talking to you all, so let me do you all a favor and pay for your meals.”

“You don’t have to,” Amber protested.

“Nah, I just want to.” I took out a handful of gold coins and left it on the table. “Consider this an investment into potential mages.”

“We’re just apprentices!”

“Then you just have to work hard, don’t you?” I grinned at them, flashing my Strixhaven medallion and seeing the realization dawn in their eyes.

I raised a few protection wards in my room before settling my daily task of writing out the poem, and heading to sleep afterwards. Dawn arrived and I woke with no disturbances recorded by the warding spells, which was something to be thankful about. After a bowl of leftover stew in the empty dining room for breakfast, I set out once more. Summoning my fractal steed, I mounted up and started riding.

My eyes and other senses scanned my surroundings vigilantly as I traveled. Looks like the guy went off somewhere… doesn’t look like he plans to ambush me. 

I rode for nearly an hour before I finally saw the snarl. It looked like a mountainous cloud just as described, but compared to a normal one, there was a writhing length of dark red spiraling around it, almost like a living rock serpent. 

As I drew closer, I spotted what looked like a guard post, with a bored-looking guard standing outside. The moment he spotted me, he snapped to alertness.

“Ho there! Halt and state your purpose for passing through these lands!” He called out with one hand raised to stop me.

“I’m a mage headed for Strixhaven.” I replied, revealing my medallion.

I approached slowly to let him examine it more closely, and he eventually confirmed it as real. I took the chance to ask him a question.

“Is it really necessary to post a guard here?”

The guard grunted. “It’s the Plains of Conflict.” 

Seeing my confusion, he explained further. The snarl’s psychological effect influenced people who stayed within its area of effect for too long, so the neighboring countries decided that it was better to keep an eye on people who were passing by. Sometimes the more susceptible ones got violent, and needed to be subdued for mages to remove the mental status.

“My advice to you is to stay clear of it. Don’t go drawing trouble.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Hmm… so snarls can be dangerous like that too…

And yet, as I rode past the darkened plains, I couldn’t help feeling a draw towards it. The lure of rage lurking beneath a peaceful exterior…

…

Sedgemoor… oh, Sedgemoor… I hissed, a long, drawn out sound to channel my ink magic. I don’t like you.

On my shoulder, Lyric echoed the same hissing sound, enhancing the wispy-thin barrier that kept the insects from trying to feed on me.

While the Torches continued in a straight line, the actual route was much more complicated, forcing me to follow giant roots and branches that had been reshaped to serve as footpaths. Of course, rather than risk some of the more treacherous routes, I just rode my flying staff over it instead.

“Ugh!” I covered my nose, which was suddenly under assault from a horrible stench. “That’s… Detention Bog…”

While I hadn’t done anything to warrant being sent here as a student, I heard enough stories about how severe misbehavior would see the faculty assign a student to the place. Thoroughly unpleasant in more than just its smell, Detention Bog was a good motivator to behave properly. 

Another aspect of this place was that the ambient mana made it a good place to find herbs to mix up cures and curses. Sure enough, I could spot a few students wandering around the area, carrying baskets filled with all sorts of gathered plants. I could certainly feel the Black mana in the place, with a few spots of Green as well, but I just focused on getting through the place as soon as possible.

I was very relieved to finally reach Widdershins Hall, the central building of Witherbloom. I had seen it a few times on my past visits to Witherbloom College, and if I were more of a nature lover, I probably would have liked the style of it. Despite the name, it wasn’t actually a hall; all over the campus, multiple wooden pods on several giant trees were connected by tendril-like walkways of living wood, with the soft orange glow of lamps shining through the sectioned windows in them. The largest gathering of those pods served as the main school building, and that was Widdershins Hall.

Rather than fly all the way in, I made sure to land at a distance and approach the rest of the way on foot. There were several other students around, and my choice of outfit for today blended in quite well with them. I crossed the shrub-laden bridge that spanned the slow-flowing river, and made my way through the front entrance, and joined the short queue leading up to the counter that was grown out from the wood beneath. It only took a few minutes to reach the receptionist.

“Yes, how may I help you?” The woman asked me.

“I would like to make an appointment to see Dean Lisette.”

She looked me over, in my Quandrix-esque outfit. “Are you a student here?”

“Former student.” I brought out my medallion. 

“Is it a medical issue? If it is, perhaps you would like to consider seeing one of our other healers instead?”

“I suppose it is, but the patient isn’t here, and he can’t really travel all the way to Witherbloom. The thing is,” I continued, taking note of her unimpressed expression, “He’s been afflicted by a particularly toxic poison, and I was hoping that someone with her skills could find some way to counter its effects. I’ve got a sample of the poison with me.”

“You do know it might cost a lot to have someone of the Dean’s skills to handle your case?” She asked me.

“Yeah, I’m aware. Unless you have another specialist to recommend?”

“As it so happens, I do.”

Her suggestion was Asana Vargundil, an elven alchemist who was a Professor of the Root. Being a student of Lisette while she was just a professor, it was safe to say that her healing skills were a close second to the Dean’s. Her recorded accomplishments certainly backed that up, so I agreed to a consultation with her. 

After filling out a form with the necessary details, the receptionist provided me with directions to the professor’s office, informing me that the person in question would turn up shortly after her classes were done for the day. Since that was several hours away, I decided to kill time by going for a much-needed meal at Gyome’s restaurant.

Orario might have been considered the center of the world due to being the only source of magic stones, and its food culture reflected it with various different cuisines available, especially with agriculture deities contributing their products to the cooking ones. Yet somehow, I felt like the troll chef’s food was still better.

Wonder what’s the reason for that? I mused as I slurped up a bowl of noodles swimming in rich broth. Some kind of unique factor, maybe? But then that would be like the falna.

My ponderings helped to while away the time until the meeting, and I made my way to the lab office at the appointed time. 

“Professor Vargundil?” I knocked on the door.

“Yes, yes, come in.” A voice replied impatiently.

The lab itself was just what one would expect of an alchemist; dozens of potion ingredients and mixing equipment lay all over the place, either on shelves or covering various flat surfaces. Dried herbs next to mortars, bottles and vials carrying mysterious fluids, jars with odd-looking things pickling within, and a chopping board with a variety of knives nearby for dissection. I could tell there were atmosphere-control spells, but even then there was a herbal smell to the place. 

As for the person herself, Asana was a grey- almost greenish-skinned elf, and her dark wavy hair carried a greenish tint, one that blended in with her Witherbloom robes. Narrow eyes scanned me with a clinical curiosity, and I could tell she was more interested in getting back to her own research.

“According to the missive I received, you’ve got a poison sample you want me to brew an antidote for, is that right?” 

“Yes. I also have this potion that the local healer made to help treat the symptoms.”

Asana quirked an eyebrow. “Well, don’t just stand there. Show it to me.”

Yeah, definitely not the bedside manner you’d desire. I thought to myself, but handed over the various items I had brought from Orario.

Aside from the poison sample and the partial cure, I had also brought a few drop items from monsters that were known to have healing effects. Wings from the Blue Papilio moth monster, who scattered healing powder on the monsters that came attacking. Several herbs gathered from the jungle biome in the Middle Floors. A horn from the rarely seen unicorn in the Lower Floors, supposedly able to purify most poisons. Stuff that I persuaded the Zeus and Hera Familias to obtain for me.

I was treated to the sight of an alchemist in action as Asana went to work. Detection and analysis spells on the poison sample, followed by reactive testing with several reagents, before moving on to live samples. I approved of how she carried out the testing with proper safety measures and the use of protective equipment. More worryingly, her expression went through several different emotions; curiosity and interest, grim comprehension, surprise, irritation…

For my part, I was a bit startled to see that the tales I had been told of the Behemoth’s poison weren’t exaggerating. Just as the Zeus Familia members described, any living being that came into contact with it, if they weren’t able to resist its corrosiveness, quickly died as their entire bodies turned to ash. Even the Witherbloom pests that she had on hand as magic fuel or test subjects were no different.

I frowned, taking note of what my senses detected. That released mana…

“You said the patient is actually surviving with this poison in their body?” Asana suddenly asked me.

“Yes. I know it’s hard to believe with how corrosive it is, but he’s still alive.”

The look she gave me was half-doubting. “That guy must have an amazingly sturdy physiology… I’d love to examine his body, just to see how that’s possible.” 

I’m also in awe of Zald’s ability to endure the poison myself. “So what have you found out about this poison? And do you think you can craft a cure?”

The elf druid stripped off her gloves and rubbed her temples. “To begin with this, this ‘poison’ as you call it, is more like a transmutation spell in a physical form.”

“I assumed as such, seeing how it affected the test subjects.” A carry-over from the Dungeon’s birthing process, perhaps? 

Asana nodded. “When it makes contact with a living being, the spell takes effect, releasing necromantic corrosive energy. That breaks down the living cells of the creature into ash, of course. But what makes it so deadly is that there’s a secondary effect that propagates this damaging effect, utilizing the energy given off by the first part.”

“So that’s why the pest gave off only Black mana when it died.” I realized. “They usually give a mix of both.”

“Exactly. The propagation effect is also the reason why the entire body gets turned to ash. Thankfully, this transmutation only affects the initial body, and doesn’t spread to others on contact.” She snorted. “But it’s still incredibly lethal.”

“Alright, so is there a way to nullify this transmutation process? Would that sample potion I brought help?” I indicated the phial that was on the nearby counter.

“That? It might come in a fancy bottle, but it’s barely a hedgewitch’s concoction.” Asana said dismissively.

Oof, imagine if Dian Cecht heard that. He keeps boasting about how his familia’s medicines are the best. “How so?”

“Granted, it does its job well, granting a massive boost to one’s immunity, possibly enough to fight off the effect in the first place. But once the process has started, it’ll just temporarily hold it off only.”

So it was meant to be prophylaxis instead of a cure… “Then…”

“Yes, I believe I can mix up a ‘cure’, as you describe it.” Asana said bluntly.

“That’s good news… right? How would it work?”

“My first thought is for something that disrupts the transmutation process, making it cut itself short, but it’s likely more complicated than that.” Asana stood up and walked over to me. “You’ve attempted a few treatments of your own, haven’t you? I’ll need to see your notes. Once I do, I should be able to start devising a proper treatment regimen.”

“Alright.” I could only agree.

It looked like my return to Strixhaven was going to be a longer stay than I expected.

Afterword: I was initially having trouble writing this, then suddenly something clicked and the words just poured out. I initially expected it to be an in-and-out sort of thing, with Roy heading over to the next world while he waited for Asana (another character from the Staff Directory supplemental book, based on the Accomplished Alchemist card) to be finished, but my muse apparently disagreed. So I decided to stop this chapter here and push that scene to the next.

Glad to see some of my readers leaving comments about how they like this story!