Day 28: The Name We Give To Our Experiences

Stuck / Mistake

To err is to be human, and though Albin Raweksep Sierota was accustomed to success, he had long made peace with the fact that he was not and would never be perfect. No, making mistakes he could tolerate. What really bothered him was that his mistakes were never new ones.
It was as if providence itself had allotted him some persistent flaw which was no less him as his nose or his arm. No matter how far he travelled, he kept reliving the same tragedy over and over.

That part of his life was over, he decided.
He taught combat magic to the students at Zarkadin Academy. He kept himself out of their way, and they kept out of his. Rumours spiralled across the school. He was a deadbeat, they said. A traitor.
They could say whatever they liked.
He had made peace with the mistakes of his past. The next mistake he made would be something unfamiliar.

What a fantasy that turned out to be.
Gracie Taranjo, his student, practiced monster magic.
He knew what he had to do. He was going to contact the authorities. She would be kicked out of the academy, then executed. Her family would be investigated by the Quinquereme. Her younger brothers and sisters would be placed in foster homes. Her parents would almost certainly be divorced. And a lot of people would be spared a lot of pain in the future.
That’s what he should be doing.

But he wasn’t going to do that.
He had run from his past all his life. But the only thing that changed were the particular circumstances. He remained the same, always. And the same person would keep making the same mistakes.
“Miss Taranjo.” Albin said in his most disapproving, authoritative voice. He stepped out from his hiding spot behind the thick layers of heavy snow resting on the barren branches, arms folded before his chest, “What in the Chief God’s glorious realm do you suppose you’re doing?”
“P-professor!”
With a gasp, the red-haired student lunged over her secret. She crouched over it, her shuddering body covering it up.
She stared up at the tall, imposing man before her, contempt burning in her defiant stare.
“Did you follow me!?” She shrieked, “What a creep! Everything they said about you is true!”
He approached her, staring down at the petite girl, “Uh-huh.”
“You’re a treacherous scoundrel! You’re a deadbeat! A phoney!”
“Mmm. Yes…”
“...What kind of pervert follows little girls around!?”
“What you said may well be true, young lady.” He stated as firmly, as always, “But you are my student even still. As is every young man and woman in the castle. And if you intend to risk the lives of my students with the practice of monster magic, you will have to answer to me.”

“...S-she’s not a monster.” She managed to stutter.
“Is that so?” He bent down next to her, “In that case, I would suppose there was absolutely no reason to hide whatever you have there.”
She hesitated. Of course.
In the end, she withdrew from the secret she had kept from the school and her fellow students for such a long time.

Under her shielding body was a small pile of poop.
“Meep!” It said, looking up at Albin.
His eyes shifted between her and the poop, “Miss Taranjo, I know your performance in school has been severely underwhelming, but… Do you really mean to resort to using the power of an elemental?”
“Her name is Marsha,” Gracie declared as she stood up, “And she’s my friend. She’s always been my friend. I would never exploit her just for power!”
“Meep!”

Albin shook his head, “Young lady, you do know that elemental spirits are crafted from Demonic Energy? This is a monster. A monster of the earth.”
“...Shows what you know.” She snapped back, picking Marsha up and holding her in her arms, “I knew you wouldn’t understand. You never do.”
“Then… Please. Explain it to me. Help me understand.”
“I thought you were the teacher.”
He grunted, resting his hands on his hips, “Young lady, I am 64 years old and I still go to school. Did you suppose it was because I am so smart?”

In spite of her greatest efforts, she couldn’t help but to smile and laugh. That terrible joke had her completely disarmed, coming from someone as authoritative and imposing as professor Sierota.
He laughed with her as well.

“Just, please." He looked in her eyes, "Give me a try. But I must warn you, there are some things I learn very slowly.”
She sighed, sitting on a fallen log in the forest, letting Marsha rest on her lap. She patted the spot next to her.
He sat down with her.

“I met Marsha when I was so young I can hardly remember. I didn’t know what she was back then, but… playing with an animated pile of poop seemed like the most hilarious thing ever.”
“Meep!”

She nodded at the spirit’s utterance, then continued, “My mother’s family came from the Elementalist Cult. That was ages ago. They haven’t practiced for long, but the Primordial Oath kept being passed from parent to child throughout the generations. Not as an incantation to form a pact with a spirit, but as song. I didn’t know what I was doing. Not before it was too late. A spiritual connection had already been formed between us. An elemental pact. As a spirit, Marsha is really nothing but extraordinarily dense and pure elemental mana congealed into a conscious entity. Her presence in this world is weak. That's why spirits need a human covenanter to cast spells. Demonic Energy plays no part in this. Yes, monster mages can practice Elemental Magic too. But by nature, elemental magic is colourless. Like most magic, it is coloured by those who wield it. Since Elemental Magic is forbidden in Nilea, I had to learn it on my own. From old books. From travelling mages. But… it also came with a price.”
“You cannot cause yourself to levitate?” Albin suggested.
She smiled, “So you noticed?”
“Meep!”

He nodded, “You always were **** in the Arena because of that. That is why I took the initiative to, well, to check up on you. You seemed far more engrossed in the school books than other students, and comfortable indoors. But when it came to the exercise of magic, you kept coming up last in your class. And yet, when it came to physical strength and endurance, this shy little spindly girl outdid every boy every time. How did that add up?”
“Ah… That’s the pact for you. The earth mana of the spirit resides within me, and enhances my vitality to a significant degree. That means my mana recovery is exceptional, which in turn makes my mana retention, well…”
She looked down at the earth spirit in her lap, who wiggled contently.
“So that’s why you have a mana supply far lower than your peers.”
She nodded, “And far less stable.”
“And… Doesn’t that affect your Elemental Magic too?”
“Not at all.” She clarified, “Elemental Magic does not draw from my own power, but from Marsha’s. Isn’t that right?”
Gracie hugged her spirit, which made it bounce in her lap, “Meep! Meep!”

Albin sighed, rubbing her hair. He then stood up to face her, “Gracie, you’re a good kid. But Elemental Magic is forbidden even still. If they find out what you’ve been up to, I will not be able to protect you.”
She looked up at him surprised, “Does that mean…?”
He nodded, “I won’t report you. Just, try to avoid practicing on school grounds. Or if you have to, try to be discreet.”
She bowed, putting the poop down on the ground, “Thank you, professor. I will.”
After that encounter, Gracie and Albin both went back to their respective classes. She kept struggling with keeping up with the other students like always, and like always he kept struggling with being known as the grumpy deadbeat.
The days went by, when he waited for his decision to come back to bite him. He had always been too soft. Too sentimental. That’s what got him kicked out of the Quinquereme. And that’s what led to his wife leaving him. He thought maybe when he started teaching, that was his chance to become the callous and ruthless professor who loomed over the classroom as a sneering shadow. He kept his grey hair short in an imposing widow’s peak long up his forehead, and kept his beard in a goatee on his strong jaws.
But those changes were superficial. On the inside, he remained the same manipulable fool that he always was.

But what else could he do?
He remembered that one day, while he helped professor Magnibrax with her class picking herbs in the forest, a werewolf showed up in the ancient part, intent on attacking.
Before he could lift his hand, the earth itself shuddered under his feet, and the ground opened up in a large fissure that swallowed her whole.
A few of the students wanted to take credit for casting the spell, but Albin knew better. He saw that Gracie was the first to act. A feat far beyond what an apparent failure should be able to do.
And yet she remained silent.

He awoke before the sun rose to stare out the window of his quarters. It overlooked the snowy landscape upon which the Zarkadin Castle rested. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock on the door.
When he opened, he found Gracie standing before him in tears.
“Professor Sierota…” She hissed, clenching her teeth to prevent her from yelling, “It’s Marsha. She…”
“Sshhh…” He ushered her to come inside, and slid the door close behind them.
“I’m… I’m sorry…” She squealed with a sniff, “It’s just, she’s gone!”
“What?”
“Marsha has disappeared. I… I don’t know where to find her.”
“...If somebody runs into her…”
“I know.” She rubbed her eyes, “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t know who else to turn to…”
Well, looks like his mistake finally caught up with him, “I’ll help you find her.”
“You will?” She afforded him a faint smile.
He nodded, “...Of course.”
“Thanks,” She said with a sniff, “And… I’m sorry.”
He sighed, “It’s fine.”