I Learned Magic for All the Wrong Reasons

Chapter 52: Chapter 52: The Chosen One Read the Warning

Dante studied the warning while Rhea finished chewing, which seemed a poor response to the discovery of his future forbidden weapon. A person could at least put down her fork before discussing the price of greatness.

”Send that picture to Professor Bell,” she said. ”The last one, too, with Honey’s message attached.”

He imagined the red cube floating over his shoulder, turning slowly while his enemies reconsidered their plans. A cape would catch the light beautifully, although the dorm heater barely worked and he couldn’t afford to dress for two climates.

”I was considering a more personal approach,” he told her, attaching both images. ”Something involving a sealed envelope.”

”Your email has an attachment button, Dante. Try surviving the modern age before you conquer it.”

He sent the message and showed her the confirmation. Her small smile should not have felt like a reward for locating basic office software, but he accepted it anyway. A future ruler needed encouragement during his administrative years.

Below the picture, he wrote the time of his lift and the two reserve changes. Then he added the earlier drops that had happened without a cast, because removing those would make the story tidier and the problem harder to solve.

Rhea watched him finish before asking whether he had told the others. He opened their existing group chat and sent the warning with a plain explanation that Honey was still checking the translation.

His thumb paused over a second sentence. He wanted to promise that none of them would pay for his magic again, but he didn’t know whether they already had. He settled for saying he wouldn’t test the picture alone.

Anika answered first, telling him to bring the notes to breakfast. Posey asked whether he still wanted the seat beside her, which seemed an unnecessarily devastating question from someone who had already offered it.

He confirmed the seat before a worse part of his brain could suggest withdrawing for everyone’s protection. Brooding alone would solve nothing, and she might give his chair to a man who understood fractions.

”There,” Rhea said, lifting her own plate into view. ”Nobody burst into flames because you told them something unpleasant.”

”The evening remains young,” he replied, and she nearly laughed into her drink.

They finished dinner with the call open. Rhea described a lab partner whose cleaning charm had polished the labels off every bottle. Dante offered to classify them by dramatic potential, earning a firm instruction never to enter that laboratory unsupervised.

After they said good night, he put the picture beside his tracing notes. The blood mentioned in the margin bothered him less than the little figures joined to the cube. Whoever drew them had known the people could be connected, and had still called the device an improvement.

Professor Bell replied before Dante went to bed. The message told him to bring the notes tomorrow, confirmed that Honey’s visit would happen that afternoon, and repeated the ban on private casting. Dante set his alarm beneath it and resisted naming the appointment his first weapons inspection.

By breakfast, Jett had obtained two trays and a muffin that kept trying to hide behind his juice. His injured forearm rested beside the plate while he trapped the muffin with his good hand.

”I paid for breakfast,” Jett told it. ”You can have a tragic backstory after I eat.”

Dante sat opposite him and unfolded the tracing board. The first hooked line came out crooked, making Jett ask whether the spell had been drawn during an earthquake. Dante informed him that several great empires had begun with uncertain borders.

”That one began inside the wrong square,” Jett said, tapping the instructions with his spoon.

Posey arrived carrying toast and an extra napkin. She wore a soft blue sweatshirt with BLACKWELL across the front, and Dante’s attention stopped at the lettering long enough for her to notice.

”You could ask where I bought it,” she said, putting the napkin beside his juice. ”That might be a little easier than reading it twice.”

”I support the university,” he replied, and Jett made a noise into his cup that suggested treason.

She sat beside Dante, leaving her knee against his under the table. Her hand felt warmer when she passed the toast, although he stopped himself from making that into a medical result. She had brought him breakfast, not a chart.

Anika joined them a few minutes later and read the printed warning without interrupting. Her silver earrings caught the light when she looked from the page to Dante.

”We find out what it does before you decide what it means,” she said. ”You can invent the terrible name afterward.”

”I already have several,” he admitted, and Posey’s smile returned even though she kept reading.

They compared the times without turning breakfast into another examination. Anika confirmed that her appointment had been moved to after class, while Posey said she wanted the notes shared with the nurse. Dante photographed the complete page rather than sending only his neatest theory.

Outside the dining hall, students were hanging enormous banners over the quad. A blue fish charged across one, shedding sparks above the words BLACKWELL HOME GAME. Two tiny workers in safety vests dragged a loose corner away from a flower sprite who had started nesting in it.

Jett pointed toward a table selling tickets. ”Saturday, if we’re cleared to sit down and yell. Alpha Rho is running the tailgate, which means free food until the wolf guys remember they invited other species.”

Dante pictured an underwater stadium chanting his name, then noticed that he hadn’t even bought a ticket. There were several administrative steps between breakfast and absolute power.

He bought four adjacent student seats after checking with the others, while Anika offered to ask Rhea about the next row. Posey stayed close enough that their sleeves touched as he paid.

”I’ll explain the rules before you declare war on the referee,” she promised, and Dante considered that a deeply romantic commitment.

That afternoon, Professor Bell met him at visitor reception. Honey stood beyond the desk with a small case and a paper badge stuck to her sleeve. Her wings buzzed whenever the receptionist called her a guest.

”I brought the missing page,” she announced, opening the case before Dante could compliment her entrance. ”And I found out why the drawing looks unfinished.”

She placed two photographs together, joining their torn edges. A line ran from the cube to a separate shape that someone had carefully cut out of the original page.

The caption underneath had survived, and Professor Bell read it without smiling. It said the device must never be operated without its source selector.