An American Geek in a Halkeginian Court

by Inner Legions

An American commits cultural appropriation against a hapless Japanese youth. Typical, just typical. WARNING: CONTAINS RAW, GRAPHIC KIPLING. May only be suitable for mature readers.

6. By Any Other Name I

By Any Other Name, Part I

---

Breakfast gave him long enough to retrieve Louise's clean laundry, get rid of the straw, and inflate his mattress. Then he looked over at the toilet.

Not quite a full roll left in our luggage. Let's hope the locals have something a little more advanced than leaves from a bush.

So it proved, and he was treated to the hithertofore unknown sensation of using a toilet that came with automatic cleaning magic. After that he grabbed a blank notebook and a pen and hustled over to the tower that his little mistress had pointed out before she went in to eat, arriving at the entrance just before she came out of the dining hall. Their eyes met for a moment. Then she marched forward, her lips were set as she approached, and then passed him by without a word. But the other mages were being followed by their familiars as they went inside, so he hastened to catch up with her.

The lecture hall was on the first floor, so at least he didn't have to try to chase her up any stairs. The seats were already half-filled as they entered, and the students present fell silent, staring as he followed her in. Then someone giggled, and in moments they were all laughing at him and his little mistress.

It was impossible to miss that Kirche, present and surrounded by half-a-dozen admiring teenage boys, was laughing harder than anyone. A lot like when we were summoned here, to be honest. Still, looks like everyone brought their familiar – except maybe that one blue dragon, and that's too big to fit in here – so at least we should have the right to audit the classes Louise takes.

She, face still set and guarded, marched over and up to some empty seats and sat down, so he followed and took the seat next to her. Not entirely coincidentally, it was the seat between her and anyone who might choose to sit nearby for the opportunity to do more than laugh.

Nonetheless his little mistress glared up at him. "That's a mage's seat!" she hissed. "Familiars aren't permitted to use it."

"If a mage wants it, I'll give it up," he muttered back out of the corner of his mouth. "If they aren't just there to mock you. Until then, it's a seat for any human who has the right to be in this room."

Her glare only intensified, but she didn't argue any further.

The remaining students gradually straggled in from breakfast. Finally, a door on the opposite end of the lecture hall opened, and an older woman entered. She looked middle-aged, plump and round with a cheerful expression on her face, and wore a purple cloak and a purple, wide-brimmed, conical hat.

"The teacher?" he whispered.

"Isn't that obvious?" Louise hissed back.

The woman gazed around the classroom. "Hello, everyone! I am Madam Chevreuse, and I will be your morning professor for Second Form." Then she favored them all with a broad smile. "Well, it seems that the Springtime Summoning Rite has been its usual great success. I must say, I always enjoy seeing the new familiars that are summoned every year."

With that introduction, she began taking attendance, and he did his best to copy down the names he heard. It was frankly a losing battle, since a good half of the names he had no idea how to spell. But she soon seemed to reach the end of the list . . . except that Louise's name hadn't been called.

There was a moment of silence as the teacher gave him an uncertain look.

"Louise de la Vallière," she finally called out.

Louise flushed, cast her eyes downward, and mumbled: "Present."

"My, my. I must admit, in all my years I've never seen such a . . . peculiar familiar, Miss Vallière," remarked Madam Chevreuse, keeping her gaze on 24601, instead of the person she was actually addressing. And the comment seemed relatively mind, but the rest of the students responded by breaking into loud laughter. Again.

"Hey, Zero! You shouldn't just grab a commoner off the street when you can't summon anything!" This rather hoarse sneer was from a kid at least as pudgy as 24601. A lot shorter, though. Had one of the names that he hadn't encountered back in the US. Mal-something.

Louise shot to her feet, hair billowing as she slammed her hands on the table in front of her. "No! I did everything properly! He was all that appeared!"

"I'll bet! How much did you have to pay him to agree to this farce?"

There was more laughter from the students, this time with a distinctly mocking edge. Not just hilarity at life's little jests, but scorn.

Louise banged her fist against the tabletop again. "Madam Chevreuse! Malicorne the Flu just called me a liar!"

Malicorne – seriously, what kind of name is that? Sounds like an evil unicorn in a kid's cartoon – also got to his feet, although it took him a bit longer than it'd taken her. "'Flu'?! I'm the Windward! And don't make outrageous claims if you don't want to be called a liar!"

"I will-!"

Suddenly both students jerked to attention, as if puppets on strings, and sat back down with the same jerky motions. 24601 looked back to the front to see Madam Chevreuse with her wand out. There was also a faint glow coming from the seat beneath his little mistress.

Let's hope that required an enchantment in the seats, and not just a spell. Hold Person would be bad enough, but if they can casually sock-puppet people-

"I am very disappointed with both of you," the teacher declared sternly. "We do not make up insulting titles for each other. And dueling is strictly forbidden while you attend the Academy. Is that understood?"

Louise nodded, scowling.

Malicorne nodded, but then added, "But it's not made up! She really is the Zero!"

This set the students off a fourth time. Madam Chevreuse adopted a very severe expression as she looked around the classroom. Then she waved her wand, and suddenly the mouths of all the students who were laughing – almost everyone in the room – were filled with lumps of red clay.

She waited until they spat it out before speaking again. "I trust that there will be no more attempts to have the last word. Just so that it is clear, the authenticity of Miss Vallière's familiar has been confirmed, despite its unusual nature."

He was being referred to as 'it' again. Annoying. That was going to have to change at some point – but the teacher was still speaking.

"You will have all studied what the familiar bond feels like, in your First Form classes. Now you are finding out just how the description falls short of the reality, and you will continue to explore your new relationship for the rest of today. I expect you all to return here after breakfast tomorrow morning.

"But let me remind you that with your affinity revealed and confirmed, your magic has become more powerful. Do not cast any spells today beyond a cantrip without an instructor present."

With that, everyone stood up and began to leave.

"Short class," 24601 commented, while he waited with his little mistress for others to leave first.

"You heard Madam Chevreuse," she told him. "It's more important to spend today bonding with our-"

She broke off and gave him an uncertain look. "We're spending today out in the courtyards. Classes will be back to normal tomorrow."

"I see."

---

Quite a few tables and chairs had been set out in the courtyard right outside the dining hall, in the short time that they'd been in class. Many were occupied, but others were empty.

"Got any friends you want to meet up with?" he asked as they paused under the wall and took in the scene. Can't recall anyone who wasn't laughing, except that one short blue-haired girl, but she was sitting with Kirche and-

His thoughts were interrupted as a blue-and-white dragon flew overhead, the blue-haired girl – dammit, she's now an 'azuretop' – seated on her familiar and leaning forward to whisper something as they soared off away from the Academy.

"Okay, the one student I didn't see laughing at you is bonding with her dragon in the way anyone would, give the chance." He gave a short, exasperated chuckle. "Anyone else who wouldn't make fun of you?"

Louise scowled. "Dame Tabitha wouldn't be a bad acquaintance to keep, if she didn't spend her time around Zerbst."

"Right, but-"

"No, there isn't anyone I can approach. Especially not with you around!"

That stung, but he did his best to keep his face impassive. Some of the empty tables had chairs for two, including one in a corner that was on the opposite side from where a certain flirty redhead was holding court. "Come on," he said, nodding towards the corner setup. "We'll take that table."

She glared, her nostrils flaring, but in the end she led the way, all-but-stalking as she radiated her displeasure. "If you think you can force a tête-à-tête-"

24601 rolled his eyes as he pulled out one of the chairs for her. "Look, if I was a dog you'd bond with me by petting me and scratching behind my ears. Since I'm a man, shouldn't we bond by getting to know each other better? Besides, if you sit here you can watch the rest of the crowd, get some warning if someone decides to approach us."

"Don't act like you're a noble!" Louise snarled. "You don't have any right to presume-!"

"I'm not presuming anything!" he retorted. Then sighed. "Okay, at this point we have two options."

He looked around, then pointed at Mr. Rose, who was sitting on the ground some ways away next to a table and cooing over his brown hairball pokemon. "We can get down on the ground and you can start acting like the blond rose-waving fop over there-"

She gave the blond a look and then blushed heavily. "I will not!" she hissed.

"Good, 'cause I'd rather not play the pet, little mistress. So instead, let's can sit and talk like civilized people." He paused. "Or, okay, here's a third option - we stroll around the field and talk. Either way, today's assignment is familiar bonding, so how do you want to go about it?"

After a moment where it looked like she was sucking on a lemon, Louise turned and started walking. She did not try to take him arm after he caught up.

Or say anything, so after about a minute 24601 decided he'd have to break the ice. "Gotta say, I thought it was nice of Madam Chevreuse to shut everyone up. How long has she been your instructor?"

His little mistress didn't respond immediately, but then sighed. "She only teaches Second Form," she said begrudgingly. "Today was our first class with her."

"Ah. That explains why the Flu," at this Louise perked up a bit, "tried to tell her about your title." She flushed and slumped back down. "So I take it that summoning a human is unheard of? Everyone seems to think you hired me in advance or something."

"Yes, it's unheard of! You can't summon humans. We don't even have an element!"

"Element? Are we talking about atoms, emotions, or stuff like fire and water?"

She responded to this by giving him a look that spoke volumes of his idiocy. "Fire, Air, Water, and Earth."

He ignored the look and nodded. "Corresponding to passion and will, freedom and aloofness, adaptability and partisanship, and stubbornness and steadfastness?"

This got him another look, less scornful and perhaps a bit surprised. "Sometimes. You've already studied magic?"

"Sort of?" He shrugged. "My people don't have magic, but we have legends from long ago. Some of them used your four elements."

She nodded thoughtfully. Then, as they completed a lap of the courtyard and passed by one of the exits, their teacher approached with three other adults in tow.

"Miss Vallière?"

His little mistress stiffened slightly. "Yes, Madam Chevreuse?"

"While Mr. Colbert confirmed that your summoning was valid, he still hasn't been able to discover the element that commoners represent. We decided to have you test them all this morning."

At this, Louise relaxed, and even perked up bit.

Okay, you don't have to hit us in the face too many times with the cluebat before we get it, he thought as he followed them all to a small room in one of the towers. Our little mistress doesn't have much confidence in her magic.

"Most commoners spend their humble lives tending base soil," Madam Chevreuse said in a self-deprecating tone as she set a pebble on a table that they all gathered around. "Therefore, a commoner familiar may indicate an Earth affinity. I'd like you to try one of the transmutations that First Forms are permitted to practice: Change this pebble to any of the lesser metals."

Louise, face pinched in nervousness, looked at the table and hesitated.

Well, we know one thing she needs that only a friend can give. He leaned over to whisper encouragement into her ear. "The last time you cast a spell, it didn't do what you expected, but it was still useful. Go ahead and try."

"I don't need your permission," she grumbled, but at least she looked a little more confident.

On the other hand, there was that side effect. So before she cast, 24601 shifted behind his little mistress and braced himself.

Madam Chevreuse leaned in to watch closely as Louise began casting, slowly and carefully. The teacher nodded – presumably the verbal and somatic components were being performed correctly – then smiled in approval as the final word was spoke and the final wave of the wand was made.

The pebble promptly exploded, and Louise flew back into her familiar hard enough to make him stumble and fall on his ass. When the smoke cleared, Madam Chevreuse was revealed to be lying on the floor against the wall with a nasty bump on her head.

His head was ringing and his tailbone felt bruised, but his little mistress was already scrambling back to her feet.

One of the other teachers knelt down next to the stunned instructor and began casting a spell. Yet another teacher looked at the final one and said, "That's Fire if that's anything, Mr. Colbert. I'll test her in Air but she's clearly going to be in your class."

The final teacher adjusted his glasses and nodded thoughtfully.

The Air spell, once attempted, also blew up, but everyone was careful to stand well away this time. Then the Water spell blew up.

As for the Fire spell? Well, the lamp was burning afterward. All over the ground, flaming oil spread everywhere but the table itself. Since water is the last thing you want to stop a grease fire, 24601 had a moment of panic, but the professor identified as Mr. Colbert quickly cast a spell that put the scattered fires out.

He sighed as the other teachers left him alone with student and familiar. "Miss Vallière, I'm going to lend you a couple of books from my private library. They offer some different approaches for Fire magic. Perhaps one of them will give you more control."

He then turned his attention to her familiar. "As for your familiar . . . young man, do you have a name?"

24601 nodded as his little mistress rolled her eyes. "I do, but I'm not sure Louise has earned it yet. I've told her she can call me '24601'."

The older man blinked. "That's an odd appellation."

Well, yes. It ought to be. He responded with a shrug. "It seemed appropriate."

Mr. Colbert looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. "The smarter a familiar, the harder it can be to completely earn its trust. I suppose a human familiar would be one of the hardest ones. In any event, how did you know to stand behind Miss Vallière and break her fall?"

Louise's expression quickly changed from aloof unconcern to undisguised interest. "You think he can sense danger? Is that one of his auxilia?"

"Perhaps. Or even a native auxilum." The instructor turned back to 24601. "Have you always had a sense for imminent danger?"

Right, auxilia are magical powers that familiars develop. "Not as such. Uh, 'native' auxilia?"

"They're auxilia that belua can use even before being summoned be familiars," his little mistress told him impatiently. "But even if you didn't have it before, you've found another auxilum!"

And our translation power is probably hiccuping because English doesn't have technical terms that match closely enough, and 'familiar power' must be too generic or something. "That'd be nice, but I don't think that's it either. Remember the spell you cast last night? I was expecting another explosion."

Mr. Colbert frowned. "What spell did you cast last night, Miss Vallière? You know you're forbidden to try new magic on the day of the Summoning Rite."

"It was just Silence!" Louise declared defiantly. "I only wanted to shut him up!"

24601 snickered. "I don't actually speak your language," he told the professor by way of explanation. "So I didn't understand anything she said, and vice versa. Eventually she got tired of that and tried to cast Silence – which I assume is supposed to silence the target – but instead exploded and blew me across the room. Except then when I woke back up a bit later, we could understand each other."

Mr. Colbert blinked again. "Are you claiming that she taught you our language with one miscast spell?"

"Uh, no. I'm still speaking my native language, and what I'm hearing sounds like my native language. But it seems to be getting translated, so that is probably an 'auxilum' at work."

"Ah. And if you think in a foreign language, perhaps that explains some of the oddities of your phrasing."

Oddities? People don't sound that odd to us. Although on the other hand, English is a mishmash of multiple languages, so we've got a lot of different ways to say anything. Probably makes it easier to translate the local jibber-jabber into English than it does to translate back the other way.

"One more thing," the professor went on. "Show me your left hand, please."

The only noteworthy thing about our left hand is- "You want to see the runes?"

Mr. Colbert nodded, pulled out a sheet of rough-looking paper, and compared it to the marks seared into the back of 24601's hand. After a moment he shook his head. "I didn't remember them correctly, I fear, for none of these match." He then put the bottom of the sheet against the branded hand and chanted a quick spell, which resulted in a quick flash of fire as a copy of the runes were burned into the paper. "I'm hoping these will aid me in discovering what a human familiar means for your magic, Miss Vallière. In the meantime, I believe they'll be serving refreshments by now, so you should probably head back out to the yard."

---

The table in the corner was still unoccupied – and empty of victuals – when they got back, so Louise sat down. In the chair that let her see what the rest of the new Second Form students were doing, at that. "The staff must not have seen where we'd sit," she decided, looking around at the other students (who were indeed snacking, for the most part). "Hurry up before there's nothing left!"

Uh . . . wait, she didn't say anything about us not getting a serving for ourself, and we skipped breakfast. Best not to argue.

It wasn't hard to figure out that the snacks – which looked to be about halfway between between biscuits and doughnuts – were coming from the dining hall. It also wasn't hard to notice that the other students were all using their wands to levitate said snacks, rather than picking them up with their hands. Guess we can use that as confirmation: If our little mistress doesn't use her wand to eat, when everyone else does, she's got trouble in that area.

Fortunately, the staff was still sending out food, and collecting a tray with a pair of plates, each with a biscuit-doughnut (his translation was calling them 'cake', but he knew better) and a glass of what looked like lemonade, was no trouble at all.

No, the trouble came as he was carefully making his way out the dining hall, and was overtaken by a raven-haired serving maid (or at least she was wearing what looked a lot like a Victorian take on the French Maid look, more practical than sexy but still rather striking) who looked about his age, or a little younger. She was followed by a brunette wearing a brown mantle, which Annabelle had said was the mark of a First Form student the previous night.

The maid looked harassed, while the First Form looked determined. And we may be low on the totem pole, but shouldn't the student be in class? "Pardon me, but is something wrong?"

The First Form girl started to dismiss him. "No, nothing, you may-" but then broke off and did a double-take. "Aren't you the human familiar I saw last night?"

"Yes-? Ah, I remember you, Miss." It was Mr. Rose's girlfriend. What was her name? Eh, never mind. "Are you looking for your friend?" He started scanning the yard where he'd seen the blond playing with his familiar. You know, sometimes towering above everyone nearby comes in really handy.

"That's correct," the brunette confirmed, "and this maid is carrying his special cake, so-"

"Found him." More precisely, he'd found the giant hairball familiar again, next to a table. The rose-waving fop was sitting there, with his back to the dining hall . . . and opposite him was another blond. Or, rather, a blonde, going by the red bow and hair done up in ringlets.

Assuming fancy hair means female. Didn't have to, back when men wore wigs. So it might be what it looks like, or it might not. Should we? Maybe not, but . . . if it is what it could be, maybe it's better for little Miss Soufflé to find out now.

"Where is he?!" the First Form demanded.

Although it does mean breaking her heart . . . 24601 looked down at her. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

The girl looked uncertain for a moment, before taking a deep breath. "That hardly seems your concern, familiar," she declared.

"Alright." And now you're officially asking for it, so hell with it.

Another maid was approaching the dining hall, empty-handed. "Hey!" he called as she reached them. "This young lady wants to meet her friend. Could you grab one of the unused chairs for her when she reaches his table?"

The second maid gave the brunette student a slightly puzzled look, but then nodded and curtsied.

That sorted out, he carefully took one hand off the tray everything was loaded on and pointed. "Miss, your friend is right over there, on that end of the yard."

Miss Soufflé took off happily, with the second maid following obediently.

The first maid was now staring at him with a certain amount of horror in her expression.

He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "So it is what I thought? In that case, maybe it's better for her in the long run if she finds out now?"

The look of horror wasn't diminished by the exasperation that joined it.

"Uh, here," he quickly went on, adding his biscuit-doughnut and lemonade to the tray she was carrying. "This way you've got enough for all three of them. And, uh, I'm sure you know your business, but I'd serve them quickly and then run if I were you."With that he made his own escape.

---

Louise looked puzzled as he served her and then took the chair opposite her. Good as it was that she could keep an eye on the other students, it also meant that Rose-boy was behind him. Pity. We won't be able to watch.

"You didn't get anything for yourself?" she asked. "You didn't take breakfast, so I thought you might . . ."

"I did, at first," he admitted, and then smirked. "Something came up. Hopefully it'll be worth it."

Her look of confusion deepened. "What?"

"You know the guy with the rose for a wand?" He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder in the blond's general direction. "The one with the enormous hairball for a familiar?"

"'Hairball'?" Louise repeated. "You mean the Earth Mole summoned by Guiche the . . . why is that First Form girl sitting down with him and Montmorency?" Her eyes widened. "What did you do?!"

24601 chuckled. "See the maid with three servings?"

"Yes." Her expression grew both horrified and fascinated by whatever she was witnessing.

Almost like someone watching a trainwreck in slow motion. "Well, when I saw she only had enough for two, I gave her my 'cake' and lemonade so that she would have enough for all three."

His little mistress tore her gaze from the drama being played out behind him long enough to give him a disapproving scowl. "That First Form is supposed to be in class. Why did you help her?"

"Do you know what schadenfreude is?"

"What?"

A pair of slaps echoed across a suddenly-silent courtyard.

He smirked again. "Sounds like my guess was right," he murmured, barely above a whisper so as to not draw attention their way. "Mole-boy was romancing them both. Did the maid get clear?"

Louise nodded, hand over her mouth, eyes wide. "Montmorency just threw her lemonade into Guiche's eyes." A swell of laughter carried across the courtyard. "And they just shoved his face down into his cake, and now they're marching off together." She looked back to her familiar, as he tried to muffle his snickering. "What did he do to you?"

Acted like a douchenozzle last night, but we don't need to go into that. "Eh, he was one of the ones laughing at you this morning."

His little mistress buried her face in her hands. "You can't go around humiliating everyone who laughs at me."

"I know." We'd never get anything else done. "He was just an easy target this time, and it wasn't fair to either young lady if he was leading them on."

She shook her head slightly, then picked up her 'cake' – with her hand, not her wand! – and took a bite. "He's - he looks furious."

"Yeah, but if the maid made it out safely then there's no one for him to take it out on. Probably a good thing that I'm not watching this directly, or else I might draw his attention by laughing too hard."

Louise shook her head. "Well, he's storming off now."

"Mischief managed, then." As long as he doesn't know the maid well enough to torment her. Let's hope the 'servants are mobile furniture' thing is in effect. "So. I think we need to go over your problems with magic."

Her shoulders drooped. "I don't want to talk about that."

"Then eat your cake and I'll talk." Because it's time to try to confirm our observations, and see if we can deduce anything helpful. "First. From what I've gathered it seems like every spell is linked to a particular element. Is that right?"

Louise nodded, then took another bite and chewed.

"So my next question is, if some people don't have their affinity revealed until they summon their familiar, what do First Form students learn?"

She swallowed. "Cantrips are so simple that it doesn't matter what element you have. Any mage can use them, even if its easier when you have the right affinity." Then she took another bite.

"Any mage, except yourself?" She scowled. "Yeah. After what I've seen I was wondering if that's what the 'Zero' thing was all about. Are the explosions new?"

She scowled, but nodded and swallowed again. "Sometimes I got a pop and some smoke, but nothing ever blew up before."

"Hmmm. So the Silence spell you tried to cast on me . . . is that an Air spell?"

She drank some lemonade, then gave a quick nod after she put the glass down.

Using the refreshments to delay answering, perhaps? "Interesting. It seems to me that the actual effect that you got was more mind-based than anything. Are translating spells also Air?"

She shook her head. "There aren't any translating spells. How could a spell know how to translate an entire language? Even the ones that are related are too different."

He nodded. "Okay, so the translation effect is definitely an auxilum, then. How many languages do you speak, by the way?"

"Well . . . Tristainian is spoken like Albionian, but it uses a lot of Gallian words. That's three if you count them as different languages, but some people insist that Tristainian doesn't count as a separate language if you already speak Albionian and Gallian. I was also taught classic Germanian, and both modern and classic Romalian, although I'm not as fluent in those."

"So half-a-dozen? Even counting the related languages, that's pretty impressive." Especially considering that we're not fluent in anything but English. What little we know of Japanese and Spanish barely counts as a start in either. "But speaking of different languages, what's a 'balua'? My translation auxilum doesn't seem to know what that means."

Louise rolled her eyes. "It's 'belua'. And they're . . . they're beasts with native auxilia."

She glanced at his expression, which must have still shown some confusion, for then she paused, frowning in thought. "Creatures with enough magic that they can be summoned as familiars," she clarified.

Well then, why didn't the translation pick 'monster'? Unless that excludes creatures that aren't hostile to people . . . and maybe monsters don't all have the magic that familiars need to be summoned? So why not call them . . . well, shit. Didn't the FF6 remake use 'phantom beast' precisely because English doesn't have a catch-all term for supernatural critters, the way Japanese has 'youkai'?

"Familiar?"

He shook himself. "Sorry, just thinking. If you have to have your own magic to be summoned as a familiar, how did you summon me?"

"I don't know! Commoners can't be summoned, you don't have your own magic." She paused again. "Well, people don't ever get summoned, whether they have magic or not. Even the strange ones, like the winged folk or-"

Louise broke off and shook her head. "It would make more sense if you were a beast who could take the form of a person." Then she blinked, and started to look excited. "That's it, isn't it?! What are you, a bear that was still hibernating? As your master, I command you to dismiss your seeming and reveal yourself!"

For a moment, 24601 genuinely wondered if all his memories were about to fall away, to be replaced with something else.

But nothing happened. Fortunately for him, although his little mistress looked rather disappointed. "Uh, if I was one of these 'belua', summoned to be your familiar, would that command have worked?"

"It should have," she muttered. "But you aren't a very obedient familiar, are you?"

"I can think for myself, anyway," he agreed. "But that's the advantage people have over beasts. And our hands, for using the tools we devise."

"Well, if you are a bear," she replied, taking on a bit of a wheedling tone, "wouldn't it be nicer to relax in your true form? You haven't eaten today, but I'm sure the kitchen could find you some nuts and berries."

His stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, and Louise suddenly looked quite hopeful.

But nothing continued to happen.

He sighed. "I'm almost tempted to pretend I'm a bear stuck in human form, if that would get me a late breakfast. But no. Sorry. If I have any native auxilia I don't know what they are."

She gave him an even more disappointed look, and he rushed onward. "But if familiars all develop auxilia, I'm looking forward to getting more of my own! Uh, do you know what I'm guaranteed to get? What all familiars get?"

"Your universal auxilia?" she asked in apparent confirmation. "You don't have any, I've already checked!"

"So there are auxilia every familiar is supposed to have?"

"Yes," she told him impatiently, and scowled once again. "Every familiar but you!"

He rolled his eyes. "But me yet. We couldn't even talk to each other until your failed Silence brought out my translation auxilum. Maybe I do have the others, but they haven't been triggered yet. Speaking of which, what are the universal ones? What should I be able to do automatically as your familiar?"

Louise sighed. "I'm supposed to be able to see through your eyes, hear through your ears, and direct what you do. If I want something, you should be able to tell what it is and go do it for me, even if you can't see me or hear me." Then, sulkily: "But I haven't been able to!"

"Mmm. Does it take some effort to do all that?"

"Yes, some," she agreed. "I have to focus on it. There're even incantations if a mage needs help concentrating. But even when I chanted one under my breath you ignored me, and any mage should be able to direct her familiar!"

Any mage except yourself, again? Wethinks we're seeing more of the pattern, here. "We can try to figure that out later today, then. But it may not be easy for us, or even possible."

She scowled once more, then sagged. "Because once again I'm just the-"

"No," he interrupted. "You had enough magic to summon me and bind me, and now you have enough to blow the hell out of something when you feel like it. Power isn't the issue."

"Then what?!"

He shrugged. "I can't say for sure, little mistress, but so far all the familiars I've seen here look like sentient creatures, so they aren't just limited to instinct. They can learn. But . . . are dragons smart like people are?"

"Dragons?" She paused. "Do you mean Dame Tabitha's Wind Dragon? No, they're cunning beasts, but they aren't smart enough to be people."

"Alright, that is the one I wasn't sure of. Thing is, as a human I'm also sapient: I'm self-aware, able to reason, imagine, and doubt. Those universal auxilia sound a bit like they're borrowing some intelligence from the minds of their masters. Using the familiar bond to know what they need to do. But I already have a mind of my own, so I'm not reflexively asking your mind what I should be doing. Or at least, since you say you already tried, we can assume that there's something interfering, and me being a person with a sapient mind is one of the parts where I'm obviously different from normal familiars."

Louise straightened up, her eyes narrowing. "So you think you're the defective one."

He rolled his eyes. "I think I'm unique, and we don't yet know how to go about things. But there's already the precedent for me developing auxilia under the right conditions, so something we can do is work on developing the one's I'm guaranteed to have."

She blinked. "You want to stop being able to disobey me? That's-"

"No," he interrupted. "I want magic of my own. This sounds like magic I have a right to, since I'm your familiar. And hey, maybe we'll figure out the trick of it when we're cooperating. But back to your magic. How many times did you try to summon a familiar?"

There was a long pause before Louise responded.

". . . Four," she finally muttered.

That many? "Huh. Okay, what were you focusing on at first?"

"The Five Pentagram Powers, of course," she replied impatiently. "Before you ask more questions, they're the four elements, and Brimir's grace upon us that we may command them."

"Oh." Local deity, no doubt. Well, that does sound like what she ought to have focused on. So, "What did you do differently the last time? What did you do that worked?"

"Well . . ." Louise began to look very thoughtful. "On the third time, I was becoming . . . desperate, so I was distracted from thinking about the elements, but I felt something . . . when I did get some smoke, trying to cast, it always felt like it was trying to move through my heart. It never would, but the Springtime Summoning Rite is supposed to strengthen your magic. If there was ever a time when . . . Mr. Colbert wanted me to stop, but if I didn't succeed I wouldn't ever . . . I cast again, very quickly so that he couldn't interrupt me, and tried to push as hard as I could so it would-"

She cut off and paused. "Then I felt dizzy, and my chest hurt, but I thought that was the explosion that knocked everyone back. But then something was in the smoke as it cleared, and it was you and your odd saddlebags."

"Okay . . . and when you cast the Silence spell on me?"

"I was very annoyed because you wouldn't stop babbling gobbledygook at me, and I knew I was supposed to be stronger now, so I didn't let myself worry about it. I just pushed it through my heart and did it."

He nodded. "Which was enough to trigger my translation auxilum. What about those four spells you tried for the teachers just now?"

She grimaced. "Of course I was focusing on the proper figura, we studied them all in First Form-"

Aw, geez, another one?! "I'm sorry," he quickly interrupted. "What's a 'figura'?"

"A figura is the pattern the element has to hold to cast a specific spell," Louise told him, looking more than a little cross at the fresh interruption.

"Oh. Okay, auxilum, belua, figura. I'll try to remember those."

Louise smiled slightly. "Whatever your shortcomings as a commoner, it's good to see that you are clever enough to learn."

This time 24601 did roll his eyes. "Trust me, I'm not an idiot. At least not most of the time. Anyway, you couldn't shape the Earth transmutation figura correctly, so that exploded. So did the Air and the Waters spells."

"And the Fire spell," she concluded, her smile thoroughly wiped away.

"Well . . . did you manage the Fire figura any better?"

"The Ignite figura?" She shook her head. "No, no better than any of the others. And that was hardly more than a cantrip! Mr. Colbert gave me the easiest spell he could, and I still couldn't cast it!"

"Uh, Louise, you did manage to light the oil," he pointed out. "Yes, it exploded, but it was on fire until the teacher put it all out."

She froze. "I . . . cast it correctly?"

"Er, maybe 'less incorrectly'? Point is, we've got something for you to start from. Because focusing on a 'figura' doesn't seem to be working for you yet, but when you focused on what you needed to happen: Summon a familiar, make your familiar stop annoying you with the language barrier, show progress of some sort to your teachers this year . . . you got something. Not quite what you were hoping for, any of those times, but that's still better than nothing."

"Hardly!" she retorted. "Even if they weren't nothing, even if it was fortunate that your first auxilum developed, each of those spells was still wrong in the end! I can't study spells when each cast explodes on me!"

"Why not?" he countered mildly. "Why can't our afternoon bonding involve a small classroom with thick walls and enough privacy to let you practice without hurting anyone?"

"I-" Louise froze again. "But what would I practice?"

"Hmm." He looked down at her tray, where the biscuit-doughnut lay half-eaten and forgotten. "Hey, do all mages use their wands to eat, or is that just an Academy thing for practicing?"

"Of course mages cast Levitate to eat," she began, a bit heatedly. "They'd be filthy otherwise, like commoners-"

She flushed. "Or like me," his little mistress muttered, sounding so dejected that for a moment he was about to get up, go around the table, and give her a hug.

Except she's already the butt of the jokes of her peers, and doesn't have any friends. She isn't prickly because she's a noble ass, she's-

Okay, not just because she's a noble ass. Anyway, she's all alone in hostile territory. And the only one who can even afford to give a damn about her is . . .

Is us.

Alright, little mistress. As long as you don't make this completely impossible for us, you've got yourself a friend. We'll worry about the boy-meets-girl later.

"Sounds like a good place to start." He paused. "That fire spell – Ignite, wasn't it? – might be easier for you, but unless we can find that teacher and get him to put out the fire every time you cast it might not be safe enough to try. But if you want to try to . . . wait, why didn't the Air teacher ask you to cast Levitate? Wouldn't that have been the easier one?"

"Levitate is just a cantrip," Louise muttered, still sounding dejected. "You don't even need a figura for cantrips, they're so easy . . . for anyone else!"

"Hang on a moment," he countered, speaking a bit slower as he thought out loud, "that might be just what you need. Or at least it might prove less of a problem for you."

She gave him a slightly confused look.

"I mean," he went on, "your magic is suddenly a lot stronger, but you're having trouble with figura. But cantrips are spells that don't use figura, and they're supposed to be easier. Wouldn't it make sense for them to be a good way to practice using magic while you're still working out how to use figura to cast?"

"Like a child?" she demanded, wincing. "What kind of proper mage has trouble with figura!? They're how spells are cast!"

"Yeah, well . . . another possibility is that a human familiar means that your magic doesn't fit your elemental system any more than your familiar does." He paused. "I mean, it's undeniable that you have magic, but-"

"Brimir doesn't grant magic alien to the elements!" she retorted. "What's next, will you suggest that I secretly command the Voi-!"

"Um, Miss Vallière? Mister Familiar?" The maid who'd served Gu- uh, something. The blond fop with the hairball. The would-be player. That guy. Anyway, the maid was back, and her reason for interrupting was self-evident, as she staggered under the bulk of a heavily-laden tray. "Luncheon is being served."

"Oh, geez, did they send you out by yourself with that? Here, let me hold it for you." 24601 jumped out of his chair and took the tray from her, ignoring his little mistress's suddenly odd look. Relieved of her burden, the maid set two places, swiftly unloading a pair of delicious-smelling platters, full of meatball-looking things, one platter in front of Louise and the other where he'd been sitting. There weren't any forks or spoons included, although the maid did set several cloth napkins by each platter.

Lack of utensils confirmed. Weird. But they must already know that Louise can't manage Levitate yet.

"W-what are you doing?" his little mistress then sputtered. "I gave specific instructions for what my familiar is to eat-"

The maid curtseyed. "Yes, Miss Vallière. Chef Marteau sends his compliments for the best laugh he's had all month." She quickly took her tray back and hurried off back to the dining hall.

Nostrils flared as the toss of a petite head sent rose-pink tresses bouncing. "Don't even think about touching any of that. I gave them very specific instructions about what you could eat."

He lifted an eyebrow as he sat back down. "Little mistress, I skipped dinner last night, breakfast this morning, and gave up a mid-morning snack. I am famished, so with all due respect, your instructions can go to hell." He held her gaze as it became a glare, and deliberately took a large drink from his new glass of lemonade. "That said, I know I'm as fat as that Flu guy, and I need to fix that. I'll talk to this Chef Marteau this afternoon about what I need for a healthy diet. Okay?"

"Hmph." She grabbed her own glass of lemonade. "What do you think you need to eat?"

What would they have around here that we can use as diet food? Well, probably can't go wrong with the classics. "I'm thinking bean and whole-grain porridge with nuts and boiled water."

Louise blinked. "That's all?"

"Well, and plenty of fruits and vegetables on the side." Going to need a lot of those. Dammit, we're about to fall down the food chain to join the vegans and all the other zombie apocalypse emergency rations.

Soon as we ditch the belly, we're investing in protein and weight-work.

She favored him with a considering nod. "I suppose that is mostly commoner food."

"Common or noble, I don't care too much. What it is, as I know by the arts and wisdom of my people, is healthy."

His little mistress rolled her eyes. "Anyway, you should go tell this Chef Marteau to make you some of that right now."

"Uh, hell no. Didn't you hear that maid? I earned this feast."

She snorted, almost in spite of herself. "Watching Guiche embarrass himself was rather funny," she admitted, before popping one of the meatballs into her mouth, chewing and swallowing. Then she looked up at him thoughtfully. "What is your name, familiar?"

The question was enough of a surprise that he was several seconds late in taking a matching meatball. "I told you that you can call me 24601." It tasted like sausage, and cheese, and savory herbs that he didn't know the names of, and was greasy enough that the necessity of the napkins was instantly apparent.

"So you want everyone to laugh at me again, when I have to admit that you won't even tell me your name?!" she demanded. And behind her angry expression, she looked hurt.

He winced. And so soon after deciding that we'll be her friend. "Louise-"

"And you use my name so familiarly, even though I told you to call me 'master'!" she hissed.

Argh! "Well, I am your familiar."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"You know, familiar, familiarly . . . oh, damn. They aren't the same words in your language, are they?" He sighed. "Sorry, it's surprisingly easy to forget that we're relying on a translation auxilum. It feels like we're speaking the same language, but we're not, and puns hardly ever translate from one language to another."

"I'm trying to speak seriously with you, and you're fooling around with wordplay jests!?" Her voice rose slightly in outrage as she finished.

His hand froze midway to another meatball. Alright, enough is enough. He pulled it back in, sat up straight, and stared at Louise unblinkingly. "Seriously, is it? Okay, little mistress: Why did you give me straw to sleep on? Is that really what 'commoners' use?"

She looked slightly nonplussed. "I wasn't expecting a commoner," she pointed out in a tone that was clearly trying to be reasonable. "And there's not a lot of room for another bed, anyway."

That's . . . huh. "That's fine, then," he conceded. "I have an inflatable mattress. It doesn't take up any more room than the straw did."

"'Did'?"

"Already got rid of it. Straw itches, if you don't have fur to keep it away from bare skin. Next up: Gruel? You actually planned on feeding me gruel?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I did. It's what my parents do if a garrison becomes fat and lazy: Cut rations to gruel and water, and work everyone double until they're fit for duty again."

He opened his mouth to respond, but . . . how is it that she can choose to feed us gruel and make us sleep on straw, and turn out to have fairly good reasons for both decisions?

"Leaving aside that I'm not a soldier," he finally said, "are you willing to give me time to prove that I can attend to my own fitness?"

Louise paused for about as long as he had, clearly thinking it over herself. "If you showed up as a recruit," she finally said, "you're so tall, they'd probably take you, but you'd be in a punishment platoon until you sweated the fat off. But the Academy doesn't have anything like that, so . . . I expect you to stick with the provisioning you suggested. If you start sneaking in heavier fare-"

"I won't, I promise. So here's the last bit. Am I a person?"

She blinked. "You're my familiar."

"Am I a person?"

"You're a commoner."

"Yes to both of those, although I stand by my claim that there's very little that's common about me. But am I a person?"

This time she sighed. "What are you trying to say?"

"Alright. To put it slightly differently: Does what I care about matter, at all?"

"You're my familiar," she repeated. "You're here to do what I care about."

"So my own cares are irrelevant, because I'm not really a person. In that case, why do you need my name? I'm just a familiar."

Louise pursed her lips, once again as if sucking on a lemon. "So what do you want? I can't send you back to where you came from, you know."

"Yeah, kinda figured that." He shrugged. "Thought about it last night, and I think I might not mind sticking around. It's an interesting place. Plus, you know, magic. My own, even, if we can discover what it is."

Her lips quirked into a small smile. "You might not be the only commoner who'd make that trade, if they could. But what do you want to do? It is your purpose to do what I want."

"What you want, or what you need?"

She blinked. "There shouldn't be any difference."

"Oh, little mistress," he chuckled, "life would be so much simpler if that were true. But I think what you need and what you want most are the same: For your magic to finally work. To not be mocked by slutty powerhouses for seeming to be weak."

"That's true," Louise agreed with a growl and a dark glance in Kirche's direction, over on the other end of the field and orbited by a swarm of hopeful young men.

"Works for me. Figuring out how magic works for you, how to help you become a proper mage, sounds like it'll be a fascinating challenge."

She gave him a perplexed look. "Then what is your problem?" she asked plaintively.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Right up until just now, little mistress, you didn't ask. You didn't think it was important to know what I wanted before you decided anything. So, Louise, am I a person?"

That rocked her back, and once again for a very long moment she didn't respond. Finally let out her breath, in a long and slow exhalation. "'A good master is conscientious, and puts her familiar's needs before her own.' Mother made me memorize that when I was four, because I cried when they took so long to come see me after riding out. I'll make sure I pay more attention to what you want. I can't promise to always do it, though."

He snorted. "Wise of you."

"What?"

"If you just do what I say, you'll be opening yourself to being taken advantage of."

"Oh." She frowned. "Now, can I trust you?"

"I'd like to think you can."

"Truly? Because you think you can tell me how to experiment with my magic, but you won't even tell me your name! So who are you?!"

He held up his hands, palms out, smiling. "Calmly, little mistress. My name is Jason deBrout." And we held out for less than a day, Jason thought ruefully. Either she's a quick study or we've got it worse for her than we realized.

"'Jason'?" Louise said slowly. "I've never heard that name before. Where's it from?"

"Oh, an old legend. Jason and the Argonauts. I can tell you the short version while we finish lunch, if you like."

She nodded, and as they dug in to the now-cooling food in front of them, he began the tale.

---

Loiuse stared at the pebble on the floor in the small room they'd found. Her wand was out, but she hesitated, biting her lip nervously.

"You are going to get an explosion, you know," Jason said mildly, after waiting several moments for her to begin. He nodded at the pile of pebbles off to the side, each awaiting their doom at the end of her wand. "You're going to explode the hell out of most of those, I'm guessing. So don't worry about it."

"How can't I worry about it!?" she snapped in reply. "If all I do is blow up each pebble-"

"All of your useful effects so far have still had explosions. Hopefully you can practice those away, but right now it's more important to get the useful effect of Levitating the bits of pebble left over after the explosion. And, you know, find out if you have an easier time with magic that doesn't require using a figura to produce." He paused. "How long does it take children to go from puffs of smoke to cantrips, usually?"

"Months, at first," his little mistress admitted. "Or that was how long . . . never mind! It doesn't take First Form students more than weeks if they're new to magic themselves, or days for the element they favor."

"Oh." Jason shrugged. "Well then, even if we don't see much improvement today, any improvement will confirm that we're on the right track."

"But if it takes me weeks . . . I'm already a year behind!" Louise nearly wailed.

"Won't start to make that up until you start casting, little mistress."

She shot him a dirty look, but raised her wand and began.

---

The first hundred pebbles exploded without noticeable improvement. Which led to the admission that with little else to do while the other students had practiced their spells in First Form, she'd studied the academic side of magic with desperate zeal. Which meant that his little mistress knew all about how spells – even cantrips – ought to be cast. The next hundred pebbles were sacrificed to trying the only thing that had gotten her even partial results so far: Focusing on what she wanted. (Instead of what orthodox magic theory claimed was the necessary approach.)

But towards the end of that second run of attempts, the fragment of a pebble did wobble slowly into the air for a few moments, before suddenly falling back to the ground as Louise let out an exhilarated whoop of triumph.

She was so pleased that she didn't even complain when Jason gave her hair a congratulatory ruffle.

"I did it in only one afternoon!" she crowed. Then, slightly calmer: "We didn't get this much time each day for practice, but I don't even feel tired yet!"

"So more practice?" he guessed. "See how quickly you can make up for lost time?"

Her eyes gleamed and she pointed her wand at the next hapless pebble.

Fortunately, the walls were thick enough – or perhaps the sound of energetic casting was normal enough – that no one investigate whatever muffled booms might have escaped the room

---

Practice finally came to a halt when the dinner-bell rang out. Louise looked surprised – then twitched when her stomach suddenly growled – and finally annoyed.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked. "Yeah, you've been making progress, but you do need to eat."

"It's not that!" she declared. "You never went to talk to Chef Marteau! Now he'll try to-"

"Oh. Eh, don't worry about it. I'm still pretty full from lunch, I'll just skip dinner." This time, at least, it wasn't much of a fib. He'd done hardly anything besides fetch more stones and give encouragement, after all.

---

Louise was yawning a bit by the end of supper, so they retired to her bedroom instead of getting in some more practice.

"That is clever," she admitted when she saw the air-mattress, and pushed down on it to feel the air resistance pushing back. "Did you bring anything else of interest in those saddlebags of yours? They seemed too heavy to be full of nothing but your outlandish clothes."

"Yeah," he confirmed, "but shouldn't we be trying to figure out my universal auxilia first?"

"That is true," she agreed, yawning again, and retrieved a text from one of her armoires.

It turned out to be full of exercises for seeing through the eyes of a familiar. Which could be a little more complicated than Louise had made it seem earlier: Most familiars didn't have the same kind of eyes that humans did, after all, and so what a familiar saw could be disorienting if the master wasn't prepared.

"That shouldn't be a problem with you, though," she pointed out. "Unless you have some defect of sight you haven't admitted to."

"No, I see colors just fine, and I don't need corrective lenses to focus on anything."

His little mistress blinked. "Could you have afforded a quizzing glass?" she asked, dubiously. "Your clothing may have an impossibly fine weave, but Mr. Colbert thought that it seemed too plain for a man of means."

Wha-? Oh, right, high-quality glass used to be more precious than gold. "There's a trade secret to making glass easily," he replied. "Most people can afford glasses if they need them, although it can take some careful saving up if your job doesn't pay well. Anyway, don't need one, and I shouldn't until I get a lot older. So let's give this a try."

Which they did, until Louise was too tired to focus, even when she uttered what she said was a rhyming couplet that was supposed to help her concentrate. (The couplet was translated, but the meter and rhyme that would have made it into poetry weren't.) All they'd managed, by then, was a peculiar feeling of pressure on Jason's mind when she did manage to focus properly.

"Alright," he finally said, feeling a bit weary himself, "that's enough for tonight."

His little mistress yawned. "This wasn't as much progress as I managed with Levitate this afternoon."

"I know," he admitted. "But maybe it's just not possible as long as my mind is around. Maybe you can only do this if I'm asleep or in a trance or something."

She scowled, then yawned again. "That would make it useless."

"Well, there is another possibility," Jason pointed out. "If we can't both fit behind my eyes, maybe I'd have to project myself into your head to make room."

His little mistress blinked blearily. "You . . . you think I'd have to let you control me?"

"Two sapient minds. One in here," he tapped his head, then hers, "and one in there. Maybe the only way I can make room for you is if you make room for me. But I don't know. Perhaps we could ask a teacher tomorrow?"

A disturbed expression came over Louise's face as she considered it.

"Go get my chemise," she finally said, giving him one final nervous look but obviously changing the subject.

"Hey," he said as he went over to the armoires, opening one and looking inside, "Don't worry about it too much. You made a lot of progress today. We'll get it all figured out." Then he turned back around, nightgown/chemise in hand, and stopped dead.

His little mistress had already removed her mantle and her skirt, laying them on the back of one of the chairs, and was unbuttoning her shirt. Soon that, too, was on the chair.

Jason swallowed. "Here, turn around and I'll help you with the brassiere," he said, stepping forward.

"I don't need help," Louise replied, sounding a little puzzled as she worked her shoulders in a peculiar circular fashion. A few moments later and the bra, for all that it was absurdly over-engineered and belted into place, popped free and tumbled down her body to land at her feet. She sighed in relief, breathing deep. "It's always nice to get that off," she admitted in a confiding tone. "I'm still not quite used to it."

It felt like his eyes were popping out of his head, his jeans were suddenly two sizes too tight, and then his little mistress took another deep and relieved breath.

Oh. The universe did decide to see if it could give us a heart attack. He tore his eyes from her rising and falling chest, lifting them in a heroic effort to meet her eyes.

Then his eyes widened even more as Louise pulled off her white, diaphanous undershirt and added it to the pile. Thus demonstrating that an unobstructed frontal view of her petite yet pert and unblemished bust had at least as much appeal as her nude profile.

Wait, after the overshirt comes-

Then Louise indeed took hold of her hosiery, crouching slightly as she pulled it down, and stood back up straight to step out of the last few inches. Leaving her in nothing more than her absurdly overbuilt culottes. Which were buckled just above the knees, yes, but as soon as she was done with those she was going to-!

"Wait!" Jason cried out in a slightly strangled voice, as she took hold of the final built-in belt, at the waist of her culottes.

She froze. (And incidentally displaying that even if her hips weren't terribly wide, there was already enough curve revealed from under her now-doffed clothing to evoke the hourglass.) "What?" his little mistress asked crossly, looking up at him with an impatient gaze. "I want out of this."

We want you out of . . . SHUT UP! "The chemise first," he begged, feeling like a fourteen-year-old whose voice was on the verge of cracking. "Please."

She rolled her eyes. "Why are you suddenly-"

"Louise, just indulge me on this."

She took in another deep breath (and keeping eye-contact was almost impossible!), and blew it out in a sigh. "Very well. I do want to be a good master." She waved Jason forward. "But hurry!"

A hot roommate in a see-through negligee, and she's serious about us not counting as having a man in her room. Well played, universe, well played. Doing his best not to let any lechery show on his face, he stepped forward smartly, raising the chemise as Louise lifted up her arms, and did his absolute best to ignore the changing geometry that wrought. Moments later, her nigh-nudity was covered once more, and before she'd even put her arms through the sleeves, she yanked her culottes down and stepped out of them.

This time her sigh of relief was even louder.

"You really don't like wearing those?" he asked as he picked up the discarded clothing, trying not to feel disappointed now that the show was over. Trying not to curse himself for not letting her finish the striptease again. She doesn't realize how it's affecting us. We are not going to take advantage.

"They're fine with I put them on in the morning," Louise responded, stepping around a bit, almost prancing. "But they're so hot, and by the end of the day I've been sweating and they're itchy, and it's a relief to have them off."

"Oh." Jason considered it for a moment. "If it would help, I could help you change into your chemise right after supper, any night you're planning on staying in the room until bedtime."

"No. Ew." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You do know why civilized people wear culottes and braies, don't you? Or do I need to purchase some for you?"

"Where I'm from, it's to prevent the rest of your clothing from picking up fecal smears and whatnot," Jason said, walking over and bending over one of his dufflebags. "This is the style of underwear I use," and he straightened up, holding up a clean pair.

His little mistress held out her hand, and examined it closely when he handed it to her. "This is awfully simple for braies, although I suppose all of your clothing seems excessively simple. How does it stay up around your waist?"

Yep, definitely a tech issue. "The waistband uses an advanced form of rubber. Sorry, I don't know the alchemy for it."

Louise pulled on the waistband experimentally. "You don't know the alchemy for this rubber-cloth?" she asked, sounding disappointed. "If it would actually stay in place, something this simple would be much more comfortable to wear, but it's too big for me."

"Again, sorry about that." He took the underpants back. "But now it's time for bed, yes? I'll tuck you in, if you like."

She nodded, and soon he had her squared away. She raised a hand to snap the light off, then snapped it back on. "Jason," she asked curiously, "What do you wear to bed?"

He raised an eyebrow, then went over to his clothes and held up his nightshirt and lounge pants for her inspection. "These. Handy for staying warm on cooler nights, and the stones of the Academy do seem to suck away the heat when the sun goes down. Um . . . I don't need the light, my night vision is actually quite good, but I'm afraid I'm going to make a bit of noise when I come back up from taking your laundry down. Exercise, you see."

"Exercise?" Louise repeated doubtfully. "Show me."

He sighed. "Alright, but please don't laugh."

"Why would I . . . it looks like you're marching in place!" she exclaimed with a giggle.

"Yeah, it works the thigh muscles, and builds up a sweat quickly. Something even a fat guy like me can do." Then he shut up, because he wasn't kidding about the sweat, and he needed to focus on breathing.

His little mistress nodded from the bed, and watched as Jason went through the handful of exercises he knew how to do from PE. "If you were in the punishment platoon, they wouldn't let you stop yet," she observed as he finished.

"I thought we agree I'd manage my own fitness," he replied a little tartly.

She nodded. "As long as you don't slack off."

"Right." He grabbed the laundry, and made his escape.

---

The next day he made his way to the kitchen well before breakfast, only to be ambushed as a man very nearly his size gave him a bear-hug.

"The servants' champion!" the man exclaimed, as Jason awkwardly patted him on the back and tried to squirm free. "He who brings a smile to all our faces! How may we serve you, oh man of numbers?"

"That's, uh, that's actually what I'm here about," he replied as he finally managed to free himself. "My dietary, er, needs."

"Yes, yes, I saw what your master specified! Bah! You shall eat as well as any noble, on my honor as a chef!"

Aw, nuts. Maybe we should have let Rose-boy crash and burn on his own. "Well, good sir chef . . . Marteau, yes? Yes, good. Let me tell you a story, from my homeland.

"Long ago, three brave youths were captured in war, and the tally of their deeds so impressed the king that he declared that they would enter his service as courtiers, and ordered that they be fed from his own table. But the boys pleaded with their assigned tutor, that the food was too rich for them, and asked for simpler fare, porridge and clean water. And within a few weeks it was clear that their health was faring better than the others their age."

Chef Marteau raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You wish to repeat this story, then? Humble fare for better health?"

"Well, wholesome fare, yes. Whole-grain and bean porridge, nuts . . . some raw flax-seed, if you have it. Fruits and vegetables. Clean water or unsweetened juice."

"Worthy of an ascetic, or nearly so!" The chef smiled and bowed. "And certainly better than the gruel that had been your official menu. But to give up a noble diet-" He broke off and shook his head.

"Yeah." Jason took a moment to bid a silent, sad farewell to pizza, guac, and all other forms of culinary indulgence. "But I've neglected my health, these last few years, and I'd best correct that while I can."

"Then return when breakfast is prepared, and you shall have the porridge your improving health demands!"

He nodded, smiled, and once again made his escape.

---

Louise was pleased to hear that he'd gotten his meals straightened out. After breakfast, of course, they would have a class with Madam Chevreuse. Then they would take luncheon, and in the afternoon their first class with Mr. Colbert, since she seemed to have a Fire affinity, and then finally supper.

"Sounds good," Jason replied, as he helped his little mistress get dressed. "Now, what about, er, hygiene? I mean, we didn't wash up or anything yesterday, and I can tell I'm starting to smell." Oh, sure, there was the deodorant – among a number of other things – he kept packed, but he didn't want to use that up before finding out about local alternatives.

She was quiet for a moment. "We . . . spent too much time practicing yesterday. I'd better show you the baths before breakfast."

She led him down the stairs – and thank goodness we aren't following her up these stairs too often, at the pace she sets – out the door, and then outside the Academy walls to one of the smaller outbuildings. It had two entrances, and the smell confirmed that it was the bathhouse that he'd found two nights ago.

"These are the servants' baths," Louise said, and pointed to the doorway that stunk. "That is the mens' bath, and you are to maintain a level of cleanliness in keeping with my station."

"Oh, of course."

She looked up at him suspiciously. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Not in the slightest." And actually, it strikes us as cute how you're trying to establish dominance when we were the one who brought the subject up. But we can't say that. "So, wash up, then breakfast, then meet at class?"

She continued to eye him narrowly for a moment, but finally gave an abrupt nod and headed back to the Academy.

The sour reek that clung to the place got even worse as he entered the bathhouse, and he had to fight to avoid gagging from the smell.

"Does this place never get cleaned?" he moaned, looking around and noticing a basin holding clean water, with a bit of soap placed on the rim.

A wave of heat struck him as someone opened a door to what had to be a sauna and stuck his head out. "New?" the man asked. "If'n ye want it sweeter-smelling, convince a maid to let ye in to their side. Fer us, 'tis sweat, grime, an' dung for a living."

"Oh." Thus motivated, Jason washed up as quickly as he could, using as little of the harsh soap as he dared, and fled back to the kitchen.

---

"You know, I can carry that," he said to the maid who brought his breakfast out. She looked remarkably like the one who'd served Rose-boy and his two girlfriends yesterday.

The maid looked down. "Chef Marteau thinks it might be better if I avoid serving any nobles for a while. But if you don't need-"

"Wait, that was you, yesterday?"

She nodded. "It's not unusual for an exotic familiar to require extra attention, but-"

"Hey, whoa. If this is as much for your benefit as mine . . . okay, have you eaten yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Right. Let me take this tray, and go get something for yourself, and that way I won't feel bad for eating in front of you."

The maid looked up in surprise, meeting Jason's gaze for the first time. He couldn't help but notice that her eyes were as big as Louise's, but black where his mistress's were pink, and slightly almond. After a few moment, she nodded, handed over the tray, and disappeared into the kitchens. A minute or two later she reappeared with her own tray, and led him to a small side room.

There was a small table with four chairs, so Jason set down his tray, then sat down. The maid just stood there, looking nervous.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Okay, is there a local law I'm asking you to break, or something?"

She opened her mouth, then, apparently thinking better of what she'd been about to say, closed her mouth, set her own tray down, and sat down opposite from him. "I'm just a maid, and you . . . any mage would trade a dozen servants' lives for the sake of their familiar."

That's not exactly the vibe we've been getting from Louise, but we'll see how things work out. "Um, if it makes you feel better, I can't think of anything that my mistress would need to trade away other peoples' lives for, for my sake."

The maid nodded, but didn't make any move to sit down and start eating.

What else could she – oh, right. The obvious issue. "And I don't take liberties. Neither by force, threat, or subterfuge. Of course, you don't know me. So, if you aren't comfortable eating with me, you don't have to. If you aren't comfortable staying here, you can disappear until it's time for me to go to classes with Louise. I leave it up to you."

She looked down at her food for a long moment, then finally shrugged and began eating.

Success! Friendship upgrade from Partner in Crime! He grinned to himself for a moment and started in on his porridge.

"By the way," he said after a few minutes of dedicated consumption, "May I have your name? I'm Jason."

She looked up at him for a moment, then shrugged again. "I'm Siesta. So the numbers aren't your true name, after all?"

"No, 24601 was just a . . . I was holding it back until I could convince Louise that I'm a person, not just her familiar." He smiled a bit sheepishly. "She got me to reveal it yesterday afternoon. So, does 'Siesta' mean anything?" Because having the Spanish word for 'afternoon nap' show up seemed a trifle odd.

She shook her head. "My grandfather named me. He said he liked the sound of it."

"Huh. So, how often does drama like yesterday occur?"

The maid looked down again for a moment, then raised her head back and gave him a bit of a put upon look. "We try to stop that kind of drama from happening."

Jason looked at her for a moment quizzically, then- "Oh. Too much chance of it spilling over onto the servants. Sorry about that. You, uh, were able to get clear, though, right?"

Siesta nodded. "And everyone agrees that you were remarkably deft about it all. How did you learn to manage that?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to flush. "Really, the boy . . . Geesh?"

"His name is Guiche the Bronze."

"Right. He set this up just about all on his own. All I did was be helpful in an inconvenient way."

Her eyes widened. "Oh. Oh, Brimir, that's-"

"That's dangerous, is what it is. It's why I suggested you run, after, and why you've been reassigned until anyone who'd hold a grudge has time to forget your face."

Was that a look of disappointment flashing over her face?

"Look," Jason went on, trying not to sound exasperated, "I understand wanting to get revenge for having to serve an endless parade of petty, banal, and egotistic morons who were clearly dropped on their heads as babies. Been there, done that, glad as hell that it's over for me." Well, as long as we end up getting along with Louise. Hopefully her recent decision to be reasonable continues. "Nonetheless, if you get a reputation for doing the wrong thing, or even the correct thing in an inconvenient manner, the people in charge will conclude that you lack either competence or discretion. You need both if you're in contact with nobles."

Siesta nodded, but there was clear disappointment written across her face. "I was hoping you might be willing to teach me how to do it, but if it's not safe-"

"Well, I don't know about teaching, but . . . tell you what, let's trade stories."

"Stories?"

"Yeah. Like . . . back when I was a student, one of the positions I held to earn spending money . . . it's not easy to describe what the job was, it has to do with certain tools that aren't used around here. Anyway, I had a boss, and the boss had an assistant. And I never understood why, but she took a strong disliking to me. Among other things, she began telling tales to the boss, about how I was doing shoddy work.

"Well, one day I knew the boss would step out for lunch, and be back at a certain time. So just before he was to return, I disputed a claim with the assistant about work I'd recently done, that I knew I'd done right, and that I could justify to the boss if examined, and I made sure I remained absolutely calm. Soon, she was ranting, shouting, and threatening me with all the things she was going to do to make my position miserable, until she'd gotten me dismissed and banned from ever having such a job again.

"Except that halfway through, the boss had returned, and was listening on the other side of the door."

Jason smiled slightly. "She was gone the next morning. And if I have a lesson in that story, it's that if the problem is someone with a higher position, one way to be rid of them is to let them make an ass of themselves in front of their peers, or better yet their superiors. But to pull it off, you have to appear cool and professional in front of those same witnesses, so that you seem blameless."

Siesta nodded again, this time rather thoughtfully, but then frowned. "I can't think of a story like that. Not on the spot."

He shrugged. "Are we meeting again for lunch?"

"I think so."

"Then see if you can remember anything. Or I may have some questions of my own." He looked down at the remnants of his meal. "In the meantime, I think it's about time for me to get to class."

She nodded a third time. "Breakfast-time is nearly over."

"Alright."

They both stood, then Jason stuck out his hand. "It's been a pleasure to meet you properly, Siesta."

The maid stared at his hand, then raised questioning eyes, blushing slightly.

Wha-? Oh! He took his hand back. "Whoops, forgot for a moment that I'm in a new land. A hand-shake is an ancient symbol of mutual respect and good-will, where I'm from."

"Oh. I thought you wanted to kiss my hand."

"I . . . could. Is that the custom around here?"

"Only among the landed nobles."

"Gotcha. Sorry, wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable."

She shook her head. "I didn't . . . respect and good-will?"

Jason shrugged. "Well, if you're my handler and liaison to the staff, it'll go better if we get along, right?"

Siesta looked up at him, considering him for a moment, before she smiled and offered her own hand.

He reached out and shook it, grinning. "As I said, a pleasure to meet you."

"For me, too," she replied. "Would it be fine if I tell people your name? I know some are going to ask."

"Yeah, go ahead." He paused. "You're actually the only person I've given my name to so far, aside from Louise yesterday."

For some reason, and he wasn't about to speculate, that put another smile on Siesta's face.

---

Jason was expecting more laughter from Louise's classmates as he rejoined her, at least until Madam Chevreuse arrived. Instead there was an air of distraction as he and his little mistress made their way to their seats.

It was resolved when one of the larger windows opened, and a blue dragon – surely the same one he'd seen two days ago, when he was summoned, and yesterday when the tiny azuretop had decided to bond with it by flying together – stuck its head through. A yes, the tiny girl with blue hair slid down its neck into the room, followed by Kirche. The two then waited until the dragon withdrew its head, ducked down and then back up with Flame in its paws, and gently placed the salamander next to the tall redhead. Then it reached back with one of its paws and produced a staff and book, which it handed to its diminutive master.

And then the hopeful looks on at least half of the male students were crushed when the pair took seats in one of the corners, away from everyone else. The annoyed looks on half of the female students, however, remained.

"Looks like they know how to make an entrance," Jason muttered to Louise.

She grimaced. "They must have been out flying this morning. I didn't see them at breakfast."

By her expression, she was about to say more, but at that moment Madam Chevreuse entered and began taking attendance. He made sure to note down the azuretop's name: Tabitha, so at least it was a name he knew how to spell, and hadn't his little mistress called her 'Dame' Tabitha?

Sadly, even if she doesn't join in on Louise with the other students, we have to assume that anyone in Kirche's orbit is a likely enemy.

"Now," the teacher said after calling out the last name on the roll, "there are many cantrips, but there are sixteen that the Academy makes sure every student knows. You were introduced to them in First Form, of course. Let me remind you that one of the requirements for advancing to Third Form is that you demonstrate proficiency in all of them, even the ones in your opposed element.

"With the strengthening of your magic, today is an excellent opportunity to attempt any of them that you might have had trouble earlier."

She turned to the blackboard and began writing in chalk.

"Can you read that out for me?" Jason quietly asked Louise.

She rolled her eyes, but did as he asked, and soon he had a grid written out:

Fire: Empower, Warmth, Light, Awaken

Water: Mix, Arise, Flow, Dry

Earth: Mark, Scour, Firm, Gather

Air: Name, Levitate, Breeze, Freshen

By the time he was done, Madam Chevreuse had turned back to address the class. "If you feel you have them all, raise your wand and I will come over so you can demonstrate them for me."

She twitched her wand at a set of doors, opening them to reveal a well-stocked closet. Some of the students stayed in their seats, casting immediately, but others got up and headed for the closet and its contents. Only Louise sat, frozen, not casting anything.

"Worried that Levitate isn't safe to practice here?" Jason asked quietly, but earned only a frown in response. "You are still getting those explosions, even if they're a bit smaller than when you started." Her frown deepened. "Hey, if Fire is supposed to be your element, maybe those cantrips will come easier?"

The frown disappeared. Mostly. So he put his right hand down on the table between them. "Let's try Warmth. If you keep it low power, it shouldn't hurt too much, and it should be pretty easy to tell when you're getting it right."

His little mistress turned to look and him a little more directly, her mouth opening a bit. "You-" she finally said, but didn't seem to know how to continue.

"Louise, I've survived two of your explosions, and I'm none the worse for wear. I'll trust you to be as gentle as you can." Besides, didn't one of the teachers heal Madame Chevreuse after she banged her head yesterday? If casual healing's a thing here we're not really risking much.

She blinked a couple of times, then gave him a jerky nod, and turned back to the table.

Yes, it hurt when she cast. The explosion felt like a heavy hand thumping down on his own, but he limited his reaction to a small grunt. "Keep going."

"But-"

"You won't improve without practice, and isn't it my job to be here for you? As long as you're making progress, it'll be fine."

---

Jason's words were somewhat belied when he eventually had to switch out his right hand for his left, but the explosions were getting incrementally smaller, and he'd not reached the limit of what he was willing to endure when the impact of the explosion was accompanied by a slight feeling of warmth, as if caressed by sudden shimmer of sunlight breaking through on a cloudy day.

"I think you might have it." He flipped his hand over. "Into my palm, if you would."

Louise nodded, looking more hopeful and determined than he'd yet seen her, and cast Warmth again. By now she'd gotten the explosion reduced to where it was no worse than a particularly strong flick of someone's finger, and that was definitely a spot of warmth accompanying it.

"Yeah, that's it. Now it's just a matter of practicing on something inanimate until the explosions are gone."

His little mistress nodded again, smiling hopefully. "I wonder what else I can learn this morning?"

He smiled back at her. "We'll have to find out. But, if you don't mind me asking, some of those names aren't entirely clear. For example, what does Empower do?"

She frowned in concentration, and then, obviously trying to keep the explanation as simple as possible: "It provides the magic that some things need to work properly."

"For example?"

"Like . . . oh, like locks. If I could cast Empower I wouldn't need to walk over and lock my door like a commoner."

"Uh-huh."

"Or the lumen lapideus in my lamp. They have to have someone else refresh it," her voice turning bitter, "since I can't do it yet, like a First Form who didn't have any training before coming to the Academy."

"Good one to learn, then. Sounds like you need something that reacts to Empower, but can be safely blown up. Some sort of magic water, maybe?"

"Perhaps." Louise frowned thoughtfully, then raised her wand. A minute or two later, Madam Chevreuse approached, looking faintly apprehensive.

"Yes, Miss Vallière?"

"I need a way to practice Empower, but with the explosions . . ." she trailed off as the older woman winced, but quickly continued. "Can you conjure some clay that will react to Empower, so I don't have to ruin anything while I practice it?"

The teacher looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't know that I could conjure what you need, but I think I can come up with something for you to practice with tomorrow. Your spells are starting to work out, then-?"

Louise started to scowl, then seemed to think better of it. "I . . . may have to drill every cantrip as if they were all from my opposing element. I hope not, but even that's better than being-"

"I understand, dear." Madam Chevreuse smiled sadly. "If you must drill everything, Light can surely be practiced safely at night, and Name and Breeze could be practiced outside. The clay I'll provide should suffice for all four Earth cantrips, and I can't imagine anyone would complain about practicing Flow and Arise in the baths, especially if you're in a pool by yourself."

His little mistress nodded gratefully. "That would be more than half of them."

"And the experience might very well help with the others. Keep practicing, dear, and I'm sure you'll be doing better in no time." With that and a final smile, the teacher moved on to the next student with a wand up.

"Well, if you can't try Empower yet, want me to find some pebbles for Levitate practice?" Jason asked.

He got a doubtful look. "Perhaps."

"Although I'm curious: Arise? Does water need its own version of Levitate?"

"No, it's because it makes water rise."

Um. "Isn't that what I just said?"

Louise shook her head. "It's like twirling around. You can spin either way, but one way turns water into steam, and the other way turns it into ice. Both of them rise up above liquid water."

"Oh." Not that the analogy explained anything, but the practical effects sounded rather useful. And it's a Water cantrip, not Fire, so maybe it has something to do with the peculiar molecular structure of water. If that's the case, then- "Does it work on anything besides water?"

"No, only water," she confirmed.

"Okay." Yeah, it has to be because of the boomerang shape of H20. "I'll go get those pebbles, now."

And then, once his little mistress began practicing with the pebbles and causing the explosive ruckus that still accompanied each attempt, Jason had enough spare attention to notice something interesting. Quite a few of the other students were spending as much time gawking at his mistress as they were practicing their own cantrips. And the closest ones seemed just a bit apprehensive.

Hopefully they'll decided not to laugh at her anymore. And if they do, well, now Louise should be able to win just about any fight with a single explosion in the right place.

---

"When I just started working here," Siesta began, "there was this First Form boy who fell in love with a Second Form girl, and she didn't want anything to do with him. So after a couple of weeks he tried to buy a potion that would make him invisible, so that he-"

"Spare me those details, please." Because would we have done something stupid to try to get close to a hopeless crush at 14 or 15? Oh, yeah.

By the look on the maid's face, she had a pretty good guess as to what he was thinking. Then she shrugged and continued. "The potion was nonsense, of course, just a confidence trick to get all his spending money, but he believed it. So that very afternoon, he left his bedroom, naked as the day he was born, to try to follow her from her room to the baths-" She giggled suddenly, probably at Jason's flabbergasted look.

"He had to be naked?"

"Because the potion wouldn't make his clothes invisible."

"Oh. Of course. And he didn't check with any friends who might have told him he'd been suckered?"

Siesta giggled again. "I guess not! By the time I got there to watch, he was 'sneaking' behind her, trying not to make any noise, she was doing her best to pretend that he wasn't there, and then – and then! – he followed her into the baths."

"That poor boy. How long before-?"

"We could all hear the screams a few heartbeats later, and then a waterspout flew out, with him stuck in the middle. It dragged him halfway back to the Academy before the water ran out." She shook her head. "His family withdrew him from the Academy the next week."

"Wow." So there aren't just adolescent hijinks around here, there are magically-fueled adolescent hijinks. Good to know, for certain values of good. "Now, invisibility potions – are there real ones?"

Siesta frowned, thoughtfully. "I don't think so, but a lot of nobles keep their best magic a secret."

"But nothing you could get at the Academy."

"Oh, no."

"That's a relief. So, what would you say is a good lesson to take from your story?"

"Don't trust Third Forms who claim they have secret recipes?"

"Heh, nice one." Or, alternately, don't push for a girl who just isn't interested. And on that note we need to watch ourselves – it'd be too easy push with Louise, and she's not thinking along those lines right now. Besides, we've no promise that this bond between us will encourage romantic affection. She's quite pretty, that's reason enough to have an immediate interest in her.

. . .

Be nice to have a walkthrough for all this. Or even a user manual.

---

"Fire." The teacher was the same one who'd copied Jason's runes, yesterday, which made him Mr. Colbert. He was about 6 feet tall, and probably in his forties, although his face was relatively unlined aside from some wrinkles surrounding gray eyes. He was bald, with a cropped monk's fringe, and wore a plain dark-blue robe with white piping, but all that was overshadowed by the gout of flame that leapt from his staff. It resolved into the form of a serpent, orange and gold with blazing blue eyes, and flew around the room before coming to circle around and above the teacher, like an oversized halo.

"Each element has its beauty, but of all of them, fire is undeniably the most glorious. It is also the most dangerous, and it is because I understand that truth that the Headmaster retained me to teach here.

"Miss Zerbst!"

Kirche straightened to attention. "Sir?"

"Why is fire the most dangerous element?"

"Because anything can burn. Even water, if you're a strong enough mage."

"Not quite. A fierce storm will level trees and building alike, and carry off those caught without shelter. A rockslide can crush an entire village. The hungry sea can drag the unwary out to drown, far from shore. Fire is dangerous because it can burn, yes, but fire is the most dangerous because it must burn."

He looked around the room with stern eyes. "When the other elements are dangerous, it is because of either happenstance or deliberate design. Fire is always dangerous, because it always burns. It requires deliberate design to make fire safe, and even then, no one would willingly thrust their hand into a hearth or forge unprotected. Fire is never safe, not entirely.

"Discipline does not come naturally, but every mage of Fire must learn discipline, or else be a wand in the backs of everyone they care for."

He smiled grimly. "My name is Jean Colbert, the Flame Snake. You will address me as 'Mr. Colbert' or 'sir', and as your professor I expect you to treat this class with the respect that Fire deserves. If you will not learn the self-discipline that Fire demands, then tell me now, so I can have you removed before you know enough to be truly dangerous."

Nobody said anything for a long moment.

Mr. Colbert nodded and relaxed. "I will take your silence for consent. Let us commence.

"Another difference between Fire and the other elements is that fire must be brought forth. The first elementari you must learn as a mage of Fire is Ignite, so that you are ever ready to kindle the flames that you command. The second, in light of the danger of those flames, is Extinguish."

He waved his staff, and the candles on his desk gently floated out, each one to a different student. "If you already knew your affinity before the Springtime Summoning, you may already know Ignite. In which case, practice Extinguish. If you know both, practice casting Extinguish wandlessly. It might one day save the life of someone you care for."

Louise stared at the writing on the left half of the chalkboard, then looked down at the candle now in front of her, scowling slightly.

"Might be a bit tricky," Jason commented quietly. "But since you set the entire lamp on fire, maybe begin with less power and try from there."

"I know," she growled in response, before raising her wand and casting.

The candle promptly exploded, and with a loud enough pop that all eyes turned towards her.

"Before they didn't work, and now your spells explode," Kirche called out, mockingly amused. "Even with a familiar, you're still just the Zero!"

That started a wave of laughter through the class, only to be drowned out by a roar from the front of the room. Jason turned his head to see Mr. Colbert's flying fire-snake open its jaws and roar a second time. By the time it finished, everyone was eyes front.

"Have you all forgotten what I said, that you take the power of destruction so lightly?" the professor asked in a disappointed tone. "Very well. Put away your wands, and write a short essay on the importance of care and responsibility when handling fire. You may resume practice when you hand them in."

---

"Louise." Bang! "Louise." Bang! "Louise!" BANG!

"Calmly," Jason reminded her. "You don't want to hurt yourself."

She scowled at him – cutely, of course – but tried again at lower power. Which was especially important for this cantrip, since the explosions were going off right in front of her face.

"So what does Name do, anyway?" he asked the next time she paused.

She huffed, but once again gave him what was clearly a simplified explanation. "It puts magic into your words."

"And?"

"And then someone else can match those words. It's useful for a lot of things."

"Does that have to do with those titles every mage seems to have?"

"Yes."

"Oh, okay." Sounds like it's a True Name or something. "Is there a way to write it down?"

"That's what Mark is for." She scowled again. "If you can't think of anything useful to do, why don't you go take care of the laundry?"

"Alright." And that's Name and Mark figured out. Assuming Freshen has something to do with eliminating bad smells, that just leaves Mix to decipher. Lucky for us so many of them are self-evident from the name.

Of course, there were the 'elementari' to learn about, and Madam Chevreuse had said that there were more cantrips than just the ones taught to First Forms at the Academy, but . . . one day at a time. And since it was currently right after supper – a light meal that didn't justify tying up a maid to 'see to his needs' – he had time to try something out.

---

Well, time, yes. Plenty of time, also, to curse his foolishness as he carried four buckets of water up several flights of stairs. By the time he got the first two buckets up the final flight, sweat was pouring off him and he felt halfway ready to puke. Worse, Louise had the door open and was waiting for him with an impatient expression – which turned to confusion when she saw the buckets he was carrying.

"What in Brimir's name-" and then her eyes bulged out in shocked when he held up a hand to interrupt her.

"Sorry!" he managed to gasp out. "Stairs. Be right – back."

He was breathing even heavier when he got the other two buckets up to the landing, where his little mistress was now waiting.

"Are you about to collapse?" she asked, looking up at him as he stood there, heaving, trying to catch his breath.

"I think I'll – be fine," he replied. "No more stairs to – take. Shouldn't be any trouble from – now on."

Louise shook her head and headed back to her bedroom, not saying anything until he was inside with all four buckets.

"What are you trying to do, Jason?"

"Well, the baths for the servants aren't very good, so I'd rather wash up in your bathroom. And I thought you might like to be able to practice your water cantrips away from the other students. Kirche, especially, seems worth avoiding."

"Vallières don't run away, especially not from Zerbsts!"

"And if you have to confront her you can make her explode. My point is that you can practice privately – or do you honestly think I'm going to laugh at you?"

She scowled again, but didn't argue the point.

---

"This is convenient," Louise admitted the next morning, as she practiced swirling water around in the sink(which, made of stone, was resistant to her explosions as long as they weren't too powerful).

"And if you get Arise down by summer, ice-water can be very refreshing when it's hot."

"I know that!" she snapped, so Jason carefully didn't comment when she switched over to practicing Arise in a half-empty bucket a few minutes later. Anyway, he was busy trying to sketch out something that would let him take a shower. Rubbing down with a cloth just wasn't the same.

---

"You know, I think I need to learn about Kirche and Tabitha."

Siesta finished chewing and swallowed. "The foreigners?"

"I . . . guess? Kirche is tall, redheaded, and well-tanned, Tabitha is short, pale, with blue hair-"

"You mean the foreigners."

"Okay. What can you tell me about them?"

She looked thoughtful. "Dame Tabitha keeps to herself, always reading, but when she was a First Form, she was taking classes for her Air affinity, and the word was that some of the other students tried to challenge her to duels."

"Who won?"

Siesta shrugged. "No one will say, but they don't challenge her anymore. And every so often she's called away to handle a problem in Gallia."

Sounds like she's definitely someone we don't want to tangle with. Which means stepping lightly around her friends. "What about Kirche?"

"Miss Zerbst?" The maid snorted. "She's from Germania, and if she's anything to go by, every rumor you've ever heard about Germanians is true. Her first day at the Academy, she had three boys fighting over her, and then when one of them came out on top, she found three more boys the next day."

"Uh. Seriously?"

"And then, a few days later, a bunch of girls got together, and tried to intimidate her into not being such a flirt."

Jason lifted an eyebrow. "And what'd she do to them?" What'll she do if Louise feels confident enough to challenge her?

"Miss Zerbst pulled out her wand, told them that if they really cared about the boys they'd be willing to fight for them, and offered to take the entire group on all at once."

Well, shit. "Did they take her up on it?"

Siesta shook her head. "They backed down. But the boys quickly learned to keep quiet if they were visiting Kirche. I hear she sometimes has two or three visitors a night, one after another, but no one says anything where the other girls might hear it."

"Huh. So, how'd they become friends? Fellow outcasts, or something?"

"Something." The maid paused. "I didn't get to see any of this, but there was a ball, and Miss Zerbst was wearing this outlandish Germanian dress that kept all eyes firmly on her, until someone cast a wind spell that tore her dress up."

"Who did that?"

"Well, they blamed it on Dame Tabitha, and then apparently someone burned Dame Tabitha's room, and she blamed Miss Zerbst, and they were going to have a duel . . ."

"And then?"

Siesta shrugged. "And they've been friends ever since. They must have talked it out after fighting."

"Do you think it was a frame-up, then?"

She shrugged again. "That might be it, but if they took revenge on anyone they didn't say who."

"Huh." So they both know how to fight, and they're allies . . . best we keep our little mistress from picking fights if at all possible. "I'm gonna have to come up with a doozy of a story for lunch, I think."

---

Although she was nowhere to be seen, Madame Chevreuse had already filled up the chalkboard when the students came in, and Louise began frowning as she sat down and began reading it. When she finished, she pulled out a quill, but instead of inking it, tapped it against the desk thoughtfully.

Jason glanced around. Everyone seemed to be confused about the assignment, except Kirche's friend, Tabitha. The Gallian girl wrote quickly, then levitated her – well, he supposed it was the finished assignment – over to the teacher's desk. Kirche, watching what she wrote, gave a short laugh and began writing her own quick answer, which soon joined the first at Madame Chevreuse's desk.

"So, what's the assignment?" he asked quietly.

"We're supposed to say what kind of wand we'd make to deal with a problem, and why," she muttered back.

"Oh. How do you make a wand?"

"You prepare a core with Mix, then you make a handle so you don't contaminate it when you hold it. Now quiet, I need to focus on this."

"Sorry. Anything I can do to help?"

"You-!" Then she stopped, got a very thoughtful look, inked her quill, and started writing. "Just be quiet until I finish."

When she finished, she looked from what she'd written to the teacher's desk, hesitating.

"Doubt it'd be good to blow the parchment up, trying to Levitate it."

"I know that." Despite the growled acknowledgment, Louise still raised her wand, held it for a moment, then set it down. She shot Jason a dirty look as she stood up and carried her answer physically, accompanied by muffled snickers from some of the class. She was still fuming when she sat back down.

"You're not stuck like this forever, you know," he told her quietly. "You've made progress in all the cantrips you've practiced, and faster than First Forms who take weeks."

"I-I don't-" but Madame Chevreuse was entering the classroom, so Louise quit talking.

"Only three answers?" she asked when she got to her desk. "Dear me, and none of you seem to be working on the problem. Well, I suppose I've found out who is prepared to be diligent and who isn't."

The class seemed to flinch collectively as the teacher perused the three answers that had been turned in. After a few moments, she looked up and smiled sweetly at Kirche. "Miss Zerbst, you had the second-best response. Why don't you share what it was with the class?"

Kirche stood up. "I said to use Ignatius's classic wand formulation."

"And why is that?"

"Because as the strength of a Fireball increases, the number of problems it can't solve decreases."

"Very good. Playing to your strengths is usually a strong strategy.

"Sit down, Miss Zerbst. Now, as to the best response," here Kirche turned her head to smile encouragingly at Tabitha, "please stand up, Miss Vallière."

Jason had to suppress a snicker as not only the redhead, but also most of the class, suddenly stared at Louise. Who looked just a bit smug as she stood and began speaking:

"You didn't give enough information to make a good choice," she said. "So I'd send my familiar to scout the enemy forces, decide what spells to use based on the new information, and craft a wand that would enhance what I decided to use."

"Precisely." Madame Chevreuse smiled at her. "Especially since the information you've been given can be incomplete, or in error. And," she glanced at Tabitha for the briefest moment, "sometimes your allies and superiors don't have any better information to demand. Knowing the problem is usually the first step to solving it.

"And never forget that you have a familiar. They will always end up being helpful to you, if you don't neglect or mistreat them.

"Now, you may resume cantrip practice."

Which they did, as Jason glanced around the room again. Tabitha's face was expressionless, but Kirche's scowl more than made up for that.

Aw, shit. Better give Louise a head's up before she goes to lunch.

---

"Alright, this was at the end of my first year at the university. I wanted to take some classes during the summer, but my grants-"

"Grants?" Siesta repeated curiously.

"Um . . . I was good enough in school that I was given a certain amount of free tuition. Though not quite enough to cover the summer classes and live on. There were some jobs at the university itself that would've included room and board, but students with more seniority had those. So I ended up taking a job at a convenience store."

"A what store?"

"Hmm. Think of it as a shop designed for travelers, for supplies they might be lacking. See something you need, you get it, you go on your way."

"Oh. Like getting minor repairs for a wagon when you stop at a hospice."

". . . Close enough. Anyway, they needed someone on the weekend, overnight. I was able to get the classes I wanted, and everyone was happy." Jason grimaced. "Then I couldn't find a better job that fall, and kept it through the end of the year, with a full load of classes. That was a nightmare. Never enough sleep, always having to change when I slept . . . meh.

"Now, because it was an overnight job, I saw a fair number of whores. Thing is, well, I don't know how it is here, but back home, if a prostitute is not very careful, she'll age 2 or 3 times faster than normal. Not enough sleep, too much strong drink and worse, and so on.

"One night, one of the streetwalkers was inside, getting ready to buy something, when two rather pretty women came in, dressed up all high class . . . and about as tall as I am. And with noticeable adam's apples."

Siesta's eyes widened. "They were-"

Jason smirked. "And baritone voices, yeah. Turns out they were actors, cross-dressing for a burlesque show earlier in the evening. Nice guys. And the really funny part was how the hooker was glaring venomously at them until she left." He paused. "Can't really blame her. All dolled up like that, they were much prettier than she was."

Siesta giggled, then paused. "What if she'd been pretty?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Might not have gotten so upset. But the working girls who were young and fresh enough to be pretty usually had client lists, and were well out of the range of what a student could afford, anyway."

"Oh. You never . . ?"

"Siesta, as busy as I was that fall, some days I was so tired I doubt I even could have. And seriously, money was tight as a student. What I could have afforded was pretty likely to be disease-ridden, a thief, and an addict." He looked away. "Besides, bedding a woman tends to make you a bit silly about her, unless you hold her in contempt. And I didn't have time to spend on being silly."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And speaking of being a student, I've been trying to catch up with Louise, but I missed all the First Form classes and I think she's getting a bit annoyed with my questions. So, you wouldn't happen to know what Mix does, would you? Something to do with wands?"

"Mix?" Siesta frowned in concentration. "Oh, that's the one that mixes properties."

"Thus the name, apparently. Can you elaborate on that?"

"I'm not sure, but . . . the apothecary in my town would boil reagents in purified water, and then use that water with other reagents, and . . . it seemed very complicated, but in the end he'd have the salve or potion he needed. I think Mix might work like that, only better. I know there were some things he had to consult with a mage to make. It always cost more, and he'd have to wait until the mage had time to spare, but it always meant a stronger potion."

So there are alternatives to spell-casting, but magic alchemy is superior to mundane alchemy. If it's like that across the board it explains a lot about why mages are nobles. And if magic's a bloodline thing, which seems likely, magical families means inheritance advantages, too.

"Okay, thanks, I think I understand enough to go on." Jason tilted his bowl to get the last of the porridge, then suppressed a soft belch. "Now I'm wondering if I should encourage Louise to try to specialize in all that stuff, once she's got Mix down."

"Then Miss Vallière can use magic, now? I've heard the rumors about things blowing up."

He shrugged. "Just a matter of practice and control. And hopefully breaking as few things as possible along the way."

Siesta snorted. "That'd be nice."

---

By now, all the students in Mr. Colbert's class could manage some degree of Ignite. Aside from Louise, that is. Just how unfortunate that was did not become apparent until shortly after class began, when Kirche demonstrated a smooth and confident Extinguish for Mr. Colbert.

"Sir," she said to him in an earnest tone that sounded disturbingly out of place, "wouldn't it be best if I helped Miss Vallière practice today? To keep her from falling behind?"

Hearing this, her rosecrown rival blanched.

Mr. Colbert pushed his glasses back.

"After all," Kirche continued when he declined to speak, "If anything goes horribly wrong I can take care of it."

"Only if you are willing to truly teach," he finally said, slowly.

"Of course!" she exclaimed, somehow sounding even more disgustingly earnest.

"Very well."

Louise gripped her wand so hard her knuckles were white, as the taller redhead made her way over.

"Out of the seat," Kirche ordered Jason. "You can stand by the wall, or even go find something useful to do. This is for mages."

"Z-Zerbst! Y-you-!"

"Ah, ah~!" she sing-songed cheerfully. "Someone needs to keep her mind on lear~ning!"

Louise shut up, fuming.

Jason stood up slowly, giving Kirche his best stink-eye. "Good luck, and stay focused," he told his little mistress, and headed to the door.

Then he turned around and took up a position next to the door, leaning against the wall, watching the two girls, and that was definitely a brief look of gratitude from Louise for not just leaving the room before the other young lady began 'instructing' her.

And such instruction! He was too far away to hear them clearly, over the noise of the other students practicing, but that didn't mean he couldn't see Kirche taking his little mistress to task over every fiddly little detail of stance, pronunciation, and wand movement. Just as he could see her face turning ever more red as the afternoon wore on.

Finally the class was over, and Kirche was first out the door, smug satisfaction all over her face as she strutted past him. A few minutes later, Louise was the last one in the room, still seated, shaking with barely-suppressed fury. Finally she stood up, fists clenched, stalking towards the exit-

Only to hiss in surprise when Jason reached out and pulled her into a hug.

She immediately started trying to escape. "What a-are you-"

"Deep breaths, little mistress."

"Let go!"

"Not until you calm down. Remember what Mr. Colbert said yesterday about destruction and the need for self control."

"I am in control!"

"Then prove it. Stand here and breathe until you look like you aren't about to hunt her down and explode her."

Louise stiffened in his arms, but stopped struggling.

After a long moment, she relaxed. "You can let me go now."

As soon as he let go, she grabbed her wand, then . . . noticed Jason watching her, head tilted in consideration. She flushed, and slowly put her wand back up. "Let's have supper sent up to my room."

"Good idea."

---

"Are you expecting me to share this with you?" Louise asked as she bit into her dessert.

He opened his mouth, then paused, looked down at his well-cleaned bowl, and shut his eyes. "Sorry. I've always had a sweet tooth, so . . . appetite says yes, wisdom says no. Eating away from the dining hall is probably a very good thing."

He didn't look back up until he heard her swallow without taking another bite. "So, about tonight's practicing."

"Yes?"

"We should spend some time each night trying to 'push' at each other's mind."

She scowled. "Why? It already failed."

"Louise, today you aced an assignment by assuming that you could use your familiar to scout for you. You can't. Not yet. We need to work on fixing that."

"I'm making much more progress with cantrips."

"I'm not saying to ignore them. Just that we should also be practicing this."

"Fine!" she grumped. "We'll do that just before bed."

He nodded. And if we can get enough finesse to do long and short pushes, we can set up code sequences. Telepathic Morse. That sort of stuff.

---

Jason had to admit, if only to himself as he slowly fell asleep, that Louise's desire to prioritize cantrips over trying to awaken his possible auxilia made sense. At least there her progress was noticeable, if slow. Trying to push at each other's mind had been tedious and seemingly pointless.

Eh, give it a few weeks. If we haven't made any progress by then, we can re-evalutate.

---

A/N: A few things changes to canon I ought to address:

Primus: If canon Louise was always able to do the explosion effect, and has always had a temper, and everyone treated her with such contempt . . . why is the castle still standing? For that matter, Louise's mother Karina had issues with finesse herself as a teenager. She should have tried to work with Louise, and even though that might not have helped, they might well have discovered the anti-magic properties of Louise's explosions. An anti-magic specialist is not as broadly useful as a regular mage, but the Vallières already have some of those. A hard counter to enemy mages ain't a bad thing to have, especially when the top of the social ladder is entirely occupied by mages.

Secondus: 6,200+ years is a fracking long time. We're talking so far back that the equivalent is something like the story of Adam and Eve. One of the problems with the Bible? More than once, people have had to vote about which version of a particular book was the "correct" one. Yes, politics got involved, so they probably got it wrong. For that matter, no translation can be perfect. Languages just don't work that way.

Everyone's reaction to Louise summoning a human in canon is, "that's impossible, humans aren't familiars." Instead of, say, screaming about Louise's clear blasphemy in mocking Brimir. Gandálfr-as-familiar is a data point that's been lost to history, or at best is in the keeping of a hidden mystery cult. Mr. Colbert may have a copy of the runes, but he's not going to find their meaning any time soon.

Tertius: All this slice of life stuff includes the broad description of how magic works in this iteration of Halkagenia. It's close to canon, but not quite the same.

Quartus: Okay, clothing. As I noted in the last chapter, the canonical clothing of ZnT requires modern elastics technology, and is patterned after anime schoolgirl uniforms. So no.

Clothing for ladies historically was elaborate and multi-layered. Effectively it was an extreme of clothing-as-ornamentation, showing off her or her family's assets. But in a setting where magic is the requirement for nobility, your magic is what you would want your clothing to show off. Which, among other things, means that clothing can't be so restrictive that it inhibits casting ability. (Also, good luck forcing a cranky teen into smothering levels of clothing if said teen has a wand and knows combat spells. Over time, a magical culture would select away from that.)

New Terms: Universal auxilia are powers that every familiar possesses. Native auxilia are powers possessed by a familiar prior to being summoned.

Cantrip – easiest spells of all to cast. Semi-canon in that in the LN Louise mentions them when she uses one to lock her door to prevent Saito from escaping her punishment. They don't ever come up again, but they're an obvious choice for exploration if you wonder what First Year students practiced.

Figura – term for the form of an element used to cast a spell. They can clearly be described abstractly in a way that all mages can use. Well, all mages except Louise.

Elementari – so far undefined, but presumably related to the elements.

Formulation – apparently a term, from the context of how Kirche used it, for a recipe to craft a wand.

New Spells: Minor Transmutation – unnamed, but a simple spell or class of spells that can turn a pebble into a 'base' metal.

Ignite – spell able to light a fire.

Extinguish – spell able to extinguish a fire.

Empower, Warmth, Light, Awaken – fire cantrips taught to First Form students.

Mix, Arise, Flow, Dry – water cantrips taught to First Form students.

Mark, Scour, Firm, Gather – earth cantrips taught to First Form students.

Name, Levitate, Breeze, Freshen – air cantrips taught to First Form students.

Magic Items: Lumen lapideus – the glowing stone in the lamp that provides light in Louise's room. Needs to be refreshed with Empower from time to time.

Locks – apparently some locks can be operated by casting Empower on them.

Established Limits: Apparently, invisibility is hard to do.