Throne of Time [Magical Academy, Time Loop, Mystery]

The final classes in Foundations passed without particular incident, other than that they delivered their crystals and had them graded. Suria had done her best to follow the instructions and produced a fairly large mana crystal, but the professor wasn’t particularly impressed. Her grade was irrelevant, so Suria set the matter firmly aside.

Finally came her final scheduled class for Arcane Tides of History, and Suria didn’t have a clear idea for how she should utilize that time. She obviously still needed to attend, because Professor Rhamsolk might be suspicious of her, but she didn’t think she could eke out many advantages.

If anything, what she needed to do was get a clearer idea of his political leanings, and he was obscuring those for the sake of generating arguments. Based on his screeds about the revolution in Junn, she thought that she couldn’t afford to keep ignoring politics. Ultimately the conspiracy between the professors probably turned on the questions of magic and nations, and even if she couldn’t unravel everything this time, she needed a stronger understanding.

On her way into the Earth Society Building, Suria noticed the same child she had seen several times. The girl wasn’t always present before every class, but Suria hadn’t ever seen her in a different context. There might not be another chance... even if it wasn’t important, Suria decided to put this small mystery to rest.

”Hello there.” Suria bent down beside the chair and retrieved the healer’s voice she used for children. ”What’s your name?”

The child looked up from her book with large eyes and a somber expression. ”Hello,” she said. ”My name is Albree Hosmar. Now you have to tell me your name.”

”I’m Suria Northbrook. What are y-”

”Mother says it’s okay to talk to people, but I’m not supposed to go anywhere with anyone. Are you going to ask me to go somewhere?”

”So you’re here with your mother?” Suria asked. ”Is she an instructor, or-”

”Mother is in class.” Albree pointed toward the classroom as if identifying the right place was an extremely important task. ”I’m supposed to wait and not bother her. Are you also in the class? I’ve seen you before.”

”Maybe I’m in the same class as your mother, then.” Suria considered asking further questions, like whether there was anyone else who could take care of the girl, but ultimately decided that it wasn’t any of her business. She had resolved her curiosity, so it was more important to get to class.

”You have to say goodbye,” Albree admonished her. ”It’s rude to just walk away from people.”

”Goodbye, Albree,” Suria said with a small curtsy.

The little girl nodded in approval and said ”Goodbye” before returning to her book.

Due to her delay, Suria was one of the last students to make it into the class and she had to slip into an uncomfortable seat wedged in the back. Some of her other courses had reduced class sizes as students got back into the rhythm of school - particularly Foundations - but this lecture was packed. Despite being a scheme to draw out loopers, the political debates seemed to be quite popular.

”Today I wanted to talk about the conflicting grand theories over the shape of history,” Professor Rhamsolk began once the class had settled down. ”We’ve discussed one of the most popular: the Junnite idea of cycles, of endless conflict between different social classes. But there’s another theory, more popular in the Akrashic Union: that history is an arrow moving endlessly forward and upward.

”Now, I am agnostic as to the ultimate truth of that theory, but for this class we must discuss how it relates to magic. And as it happens, the Akrashic Union has a ready-made example of this inevitable tide of progress... can anyone tell me what it is?”

”Military glyphs,” someone called.

”No, scholars argue over that one.”

”Farming yields,” another student suggested.

”Closer.” Professor Rhamsolk folded his arms behind his back. ”It’s true that farming yields have steadily increased over time, but for a wide variety of reasons. I’m thinking of a change specifically related to a magical field...”

”Alchemy and herbalism.” This third suggestion seemed to be what he had been looking for, because Professor Rhamsolk nodded and returned to his lecture.

”The Akrashic Union produces certain ingredients critical for alchemical processes, including farming and warfare. In the past, these were cultivated by herbalists using traditional techniques, building up knowledge and magical alignment that allowed them to create ingredients of unprecedented quality.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

”In the past several decades, however, Akrashic mages developed a potion that allows a worker to mimic that magical alignment. Instead of training for years, workers can begin cultivating ingredients immediately. The quality is slightly reduced, but the process shrank to a fraction of the cost. Furthermore, as their research mages improved both the potions and cultivation techniques, the quality difference has eroded, and many believe it will eventually be eliminated entirely. This is a classic example of the inevitable arrow of progress.”

”That doesn’t account for other costs.” The speaker was a woman who Suria hadn’t seen speak up in the past: she was older than the average student, perhaps thirty, and looked tired. ”Those herbalism-mimicking potions take a serious toll on the body.”

”Indeed they do,” Professor Rhamsolk agreed, ”but so long as the Union has an overabundance of workers, those costs are spread out across the population. The new methods are so much more effective that going back to traditional herbalism seems impossible.”

”Completely ruining herbalists who trained for generations,” the woman said, not even trying to disguise her bitterness.

”You’re one of them, aren’t you?” another Akrashic student called out. ”Your guilds held back progress for years! You don’t have a monopoly on those secrets anymore, so you’re just angry you lost your power and prestige. That’s a perfect example of that inevitable arrow thing.”

”You’ve replaced skilled mages with zombies going through the motions! Is that the sort of progress we want?”

”If those zombies are so much better,” another student spoke up, ”then how much good was herbalism?”

The debate flared up with most of the students ganging up on the woman, who defended her position with increasingly emotional arguments. Suria felt bad for her, especially when even non-Akrashic students threw in arguments against her. For her part Suria felt like she didn’t know enough to say what the truth was, much less what was best for society.

Through it all, Professor Rhamsolk watched the arguments with his molten eyes, occasionally stoking the debate further. Suria felt a wave of distaste and had to struggle to keep her expression neutral. Even if this was just a ploy, she didn’t like the way he approached any of these issues. She would have gotten involved if she hadn’t been concerned about drawing attention to herself again.

When the debate over herbalism subsided, it seemed like the discussion would move on. Before the professor could start another topic, however, a student from the other side of the classroom spoke up.

”If magical developments can change so much, why are universities like Darkmoon considered neutral? Why aren’t they world powers?”

”An important question,” Professor Rhamsolk agreed, ”but perhaps a bit too large for class today. Let’s continue speaking about some of the other grand theories of history and we’ll tackle that question next time.”

Suria doubted it, even if the next class would take place. She stayed in her seat, dutifully taking notes on the different theories of history, and felt relieved when the class was finally over.

There wasn’t much time left, so Suria would normally have left the building quickly. On her way out, however, she saw that the herbalist woman was moving in a different direction than the others, toward where the little girl was sitting. That made Suria curious enough to follow her instead, watching as the two of them came together.

”Mother!” For a moment Albree’s expression cracked into a girlish grin and she threw her arms around her mother’s neck. Soon after she pulled back, making a very stern face. ”What is wrong?”

”It’s nothing,” the woman said.

”No, you have to tell people when something is wrong. You have to.”

”It was just an argument in class.”

”Excuse me.” Suria stepped up beside the two with a polite smile. ”Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to say that class today was unfair. You shouldn’t have to argue with everyone at once. I know saying that doesn’t really help, but...”

”No, I appreciate it.” The woman shifted to face Suria, keeping a hand on her daughter’s shoulders. ”My name is Murtiel Hosmar, and this is Albree.”

”I already told her my name,” Albree told her mother in a stage whisper.

”Well, sometimes it’s okay to introduce yourself again.”

”But you said...”

”We just talked a little earlier,” Suria explained. ”I saw her sitting alone and was concerned.”

Murtiel winced and subconsciously rubbed her daughter’s shoulders. ”I try to arrange someone to care for her when I can, but it isn’t always possible.”

”Sorry if this is too personal, but are you actually an herbalist? I didn’t know much about that debate before today, so I just have to assume you moved here...”

”I saw what was happening.” Murtiel sighed and shook her head. ”They’re right that the new methods cost almost nothing. Herbalist after herbalist, workshops bigger than mine, were closing up as the new potions rolled in. So I sold everything while it still had value and came here, to... retrain, I suppose.”

”Perfectly understandable,” Suria said with an encouraging smile. ”I’m surprised to see you in a class like this, though. Surely there’d be more overlap between your work and the Alchemy department?”

”I wanted to take those classes, but there are so many requirements for the ones I need. I also want to study Transmutation, and this looked like a way to get a prerequisite in the department...”

They spoke about their studies for a while, keeping the conversation from getting too personal. The details were left unsaid, but Suria got the sense that Murtiel was struggling and couldn’t afford a loss. During the entire conversation Albree looked back and forth between them, her lips pressed together because it was clearly The Rules that children shouldn’t interrupt adults.

Eventually the conversation petered out, so Suria gently closed things off. She gave Albree a hug, which the girl accepted somberly, and then started to back away. To her surprise, the other woman touched her arm to hold her a little longer.

”This has been nice,” Murtiel said. ”I don’t suppose we’re taking any of the same classes? We should get together again.”

”Of course,” Suria said with a pained smile. ”I’d like that.”

They made plans to meet again on a date that would never arrive and Suria departed with conflicted feelings. Murtiel seemed so desperate for a connection that she clung to any chance, and that would soon be ripped away from her. Even if Suria could find her in another loop, she couldn’t afford to be distracted now.

The final hours were counting down and she needed to use them.