Fenae (part 31): A Sniveling Schemer.

Franek found Mechteld sitting against one of the stone walls opposite the great dining-hall windows, surrounded by notebooks. Lÿr was next to her on the floor, patiently stacking a variety of ingredients for rituals into Mechteld’s materials bag, often referred to by students as a ‘spice rack’.

‘Spice Racks’, depicting the materials bags of students at opposite ends of the learning curve in their Ritualism classes. Senior students take pride in being the only ones who can navigate their storage, mostly to make it impossible for teachers and janitors to inspect them. Oil on canvas, painted by A. Spinniwyfh (year 27 of the 5th era)

“So, Mechy, how are my notes of yesterday?” Franek asked smugly. “Rubbish,” Mechteld replied with barely a nod, “but I was looking for something else.”

“Oh. Well, what are you trying to find? Maybe I remember where it is.”

Instead of looking up, she reached under Franek’s notebook on her lap and pulled an envelope from beneath it. “Here’s the spell we have to learn on our own.”

Franek immediately tensed up. Hesitant and hasty at the same time, he snatched the envelope and then stalled for time again by presenting it to Beletos, who gleefully nibbled it open for him. After that, he wondered what sort of spell they would give to first-year students while placing Beletos next to Lÿr. Actually, what would I suggest as the ideal first few spells?

He skimmed over the opened letter, reading without registering any of it while his mind took the reins. I can imagine a school working from the simplest spells to more and more complex ones, but so far what we’ve learned is not that useful for student life. If anything, I would start by teaching something like drone mode to help with the lectures…

“I would have thought you to be more excited,” Mechteld said, pulling Franek back to reality. “Do you not realise what that spell is?”

Franek looked around for a moment to ground himself again, then began his usual analysis.

The name of a spell was usually very convoluted; ‘Molecular manipulation’ does not at all sound like a warmth spell, and that was a tame example. Instead, he was much more interested in the instructions and ingredients. He was far too much of a novice to conclude anything from the actual materials, but much could be gleaned from how many materials and steps there were, how precise the measurements were, whether it involved periods of waiting, and that sort of thing. More precise instructions helped enormously with the ‘potrzeba manifestacji’— the state of mind needed to cast specific spells. Vague spells, on the other hand, relied mostly on feeling, experimentation, and overall magical understanding.

As it turned out, the instructions were incredibly vague. Many words were used to describe basically three ingredients, no measurements, and two movements. He did not feel good about this.

Alright, what are the movements… sit down, alright, and… stand back up. That’s it?!

Most spells involved standing up at some point, at least those that required drawing symbols on a surface. With fewer and fewer things in this letter that could calm him, Franek decided to look at the ingredients: an unviscous liquid, ground-up leaves from the Mentha floral family, and petals from any sort of mountain wildflower.

Well, at least that is easy, that could be water, mint, and perun peta — wait. His eyes darted across the letter once more. Sit down, manifest the potrzeba with the aid of what basically amounted to mint tea, then rise up. This… is this a bad instruction for drone mode?

Relief that one of his exams was going to be a breeze had barely a second to settle before dread crawled up his spine with force and grappled his mind into a chokehold. Is this cheating?!

“There’s the face I expected,” Mechteld laughed as she saw Franek’s forehead contort into every shape of inner conflict. But Franek did not hear. Franek had fallen into the deep creases of his mind.

If we are to demonstrate how we can learn a spell without help, then the professors will have to come up with another spell, which will take time, which will give me even less time to master it. But if I don’t tell them and they find out or realise, I could be in trouble. It was the sort of situation Franek often faced and dreaded; he would be a dweeb if he confessed, and a sniveling schemer if he did not.

“Whatever your incomprehensible mind is cooking up right now, it better not spoil my victory too.”

Franek was reeled back from the event horizon of his mind by that seemingly random remark. “Victory?”

“Yeah. You may have a moral dilemma, but I don’t. I have many other things to do, and this is an incredible time-saver. Now, did you ever write down how drone mode works?”

“Hold on, Mech. This is not a time-saver, we’ve — well, Mom did, to be fair — but we defeated the entire purpose of this test! I mean, sure, if we were to simply know this spell before the second semester ended, then I’d be all on board with you, with a flag to wave around. But we’re supposed to prove something through it. And we can’t.”

“Hmmm,” Mechteld pouted, defiant but without a proper counterargument. “I suppose it does…”

She assumed her famous pouty lower lip could sway the odds in her favour, but Franek did not seem to appreciate the subtle trembling, or even the carefully crafted concerned angle of her eyebrows that implied, ‘I want to agree with you, but it just feels wrong’.

But Franek was either immune to or unaware of her games. She decided that if she was to convince Franek, she would have to play his game; all cards on the table.

“Franek, this may be business as usual for you, but this kind of convenience just… doesn’t really happen to me. So if you want to prance around on a moral high horse because yours constantly gallops, please consider that I rarely get to even sit on it.”

Franek stopped and thought deeply, narrowing his eyes.

“Heh? Of course I don’t want to make your life difficult, but how is this a rare convenience to you?”

“Well, for once I don’t have to study somethi-”

“But you skipped the entire first quarter of the year because I showed you drone mode. Was that not convenient as well? I mean, I was worried that it might haunt you as time went on, because I learned to live drone mode whereas you seem to only use it as a trick or gimmick, and I’m honestly amazed at how well you keep u — ”

Franek prattled on again, allowing Mechteld to regroup and figure out a new jab in the duel of wits.

“And what about the library dust? It saves you hours of tweezing, it works better than most actual ingredients for rituals we have available, and it led you to become buddies with Aleda!”

She saw how this landed. Franek looked very, very concerned.

“Well, did not the exact same happen to you because you simply stood next to me? I — I’m really trying to figure out what bothers you, but I’ve taken every chance I saw to include you in these stupid preparatory schemes of my mom to guarantee me a place in this school that is completely unrelated to my own personality. And, well…” Franek looked away before continuing. “I sort of thought that unlike Professor Coirym, Aleda, Hyndsig, Tokoh, and Jorvalt and such, you didn’t care about the life my mom tries to shoehorn me into.”

It was Mechteld’s turn to look baffled. She had thought that this “cards on the table” gambit would score her a quick victory, but instead she had tumbled backwards into what it truly meant to put all cards on the table. And she was at a complete loss for words.

She opened her mouth, ready to push back, but something in her began to suspect he was not defending himself. Maybe he was genuinely trying to understand what she had accused him of.

“If my constant good and bad luck make things more difficult,” he continued, “you’re… well, you’re always free to keep your distance from me when you need it. I won’t force you to be friends with me, you know.”

“No, I want… I just… pfoah, I don’t know what to say, Franek.” What have I gotten into? she thought, more confused than dismayed. I just wanted you to let me cheat!

“I-I…” she stammered, still processing how to approach this. “I am completely overwhelmed, because I just wanted you to let me cheat and now you think I don’t want to be your friend, and I do want to be friends but I was not prepared for this kind of conversation.”

Franek blinked.

Then she did.

Franek opened his mouth, and Mechteld closed her eyes in preparation.

“Wait, that’s it?”

“Huh?” she was struck by whiplash from this abrupt stop instead of a social car crash, but managed to pull through. “Uhm… well, yeah.”

“Wow, then this whole conversation must have been wildly disproportionate. I’m so sorry.”

Franek shifted where he sat, trying to find his footing as well. “Many things that happened to me could be considered cheating from multiple angles, so I don’t think I’m the right person anymore to say you can’t cheat.”

He even chuckled, she noticed. It made her realise that she had actually tensed up from what had, altogether, been a very brief moment. Did I just see a glimpse of Franek’s mind, or have I just been completely schooled in social manipulation?

Franek sat down next to her on the floor, clearly considering the discussion successfully solved, but there was still one thing she could not figure out. “Why did you think I don’t want to be friends with you?”

Franek froze and somewhat shrunk, reminding her of the alpine marmots she occasionally caught halfway through stealing vegetables from her aunt’s garden back home.

“Because you suddenly told me how bothered you are by my constant good and bad luck. And I didn’t see how that could relate to knowing the…” He looked at the letter once more, finally reading the name at the top. “…Transcriber spell or not, so I thought it must be really weighing on you to just blurt it out.”

Mechteld slouched against the wall. She felt like she had stared into an abyss. And in its depths, she had found a nervous woodland creature.

“Talking with you is so weird, Fran.” She sighed. “I like it, but it’s so difficult and weird.”