GoldSphere Novels
patreon
Chapter 22 - Master Quill
🕑 Added 2025-12-21 21:40:24 +0000 UTCMaster Quill was a proud man, having worked his way up from a simple student without any notable support, to the man he was today—head teacher of the Magic Academy of Novanny.
A teacher at twenty-two, a professor at thirty, and an archmage at forty-three. Few had managed to reach the position of archmage before fifty, so even in those circles, he carried weight.
The academy itself was renowned beyond the continent's borders, known as a highly prestigious institution of magic and science. It attracted tens of thousands of applicants every year, and only accepted five hundred.
As such, the position of head teacher was a great honor. Even the heads of most noble families had to bow before him. Such was his weight.
But despite all that, two families could still make him sweat. And somehow, two young members of those families found themselves in his office, arguing back and forth over some petty thing he hadn't even bothered to remember.
It was a nightmare.
"You used telekinesis to spill my reagent!" The princess's voice cracked with indignation as she jabbed her finger toward her rival. Quill could feel the residual mana crackling around her, uncoltrolled and emotional. "I felt his mana, and I have three other students who can testify!"
Felt his mana. Quill's eyebrow twitched. The girl has decent sensitivity, I'll grant her that. Though her control leaves much to be desired.
“Even if that were true, you started it by putting an extra layer on my formation in the class before!” the young man from the Grifantes family argued back, no less agitated. “It blew up in my face!”
“That could have been anyone! You left it for several minutes! I can at least prove it was you!”
"Oh, sure," the boy's voice was drenched in sarcasm, "after you were the culprit all the eleven previous times, now suddenly someone else comes along to ruin something for me."
"You can barely prove half of those!"
Gods, just kiss already!
The thought hit Quill with such force that he nearly said it aloud.
"Children, please!" Quill interrupted, standing from his seat. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees as his mana pressed outward—not threateningly, but with enough presence to remind them who they were addressing.
Both young nobles fell silent, though he could see them practically vibrating with the need to continue their argument.
"You can't keep coming here every time to finish your arguments." Quill let his voice carry just a hint of authority. "I'm no mediator, I'm no counselor, I'm the head teacher. Respect your teachers, and stop forcing them to send you here for every little thing!"
Respect your teachers—ha. He suppressed a bitter smile. Half the faculty is terrified of offending either family.
The young nobles stared at him, both showing signs of wanting to refute him. But Quill continued before either could speak.
“I know your status is great, and that a slight against either of you is a slight against your families—but for the gods, can’t you just live like normal students while you’re on academy grounds? Don’t you want a space where your titles don’t control every moment of your lives?”
"...That's easy to say." The princess's voice had lost its edge, becoming smaller, almost vulnerable. "He's basically worshipped as he walks the hallways. All children of the Grifantes family are treated like that here."
“Is that the problem?” the Grifantes boy asked incredulously. “That you’re not the brightest star anymore? Your grandmother is the queen!”
“That’s not it!” the princess replied, turning more timid by the second. “I just hoped that… everyone would be treated more equally here. Based on merit instead of status.”
“You think I like it? I would love not being greeted by every single student like I’m some famed archmage. It feels so fake!”
And there's the heart of it. Quill felt a sense of satisfaction as the pieces clicked into place. Two lonely children, surrounded by sycophants and political maneuvering.
"Exactly! That's how I feel when I walk elsewhere."
"Okay, good!" Quill interrupted again, hearing a potential end to the argument and seizing it like a lifeline. “You both agree, so let’s be friends from now on and take it from there. Lily!”
He pitched his voice to carry through the door, knowing his assistant would be waiting just outside. The door opened so quickly that she must have been pressed against it, and Lily stuck her blonde head through the gap.
"Yes, Head Teacher?" Her expression was carefully neutral despite the obvious curiosity in her eyes.
"Take these two back to their class, if you wouldn't mind."
And make sure they don't kill each other in the hallway, he added silently, though Lily's slight nod suggested she understood the subtext.
The duo seemed to want to protest, but a blue barrier had already surrounded them, leaving only the way back to the entrance. Their words were muted by the thick barrier, and peace was restored to the office.
Quill sank back into his chair with a satisfied sigh. Sweet, blessed peace.
He turned in his seat to face the window, looking out at the city of Novanny sprawling below. The late morning sun painted everything in warm gold, and from this height, the city looked almost peaceful.
Another excellent solution, if I say so myself. He allowed himself a small smile. Surely they won't be back next week again.
Who am I kidding? They'll probably be here tomorrow.
The thought prompted another one, and he reached for a fresh sheet of parchment. His quill moved smoothly across the paper as he composed two separate letters in his mind.
I should write to both families. Suggest an engagement between the two. Worst case, it gets broken. Best case… They won’t bother me again.
The Tower of Grifantes in the middle of the city was just as imposing as ever, serving as a reminder of who still ruled this city after all this time.
It was a mystery how they remained so influential over the years, despite having only a few archmages to their name. The current family head was competent but hardly legendary. Their magical traditions were solid but not revolutionary. Yet somehow, no other force had ever successfully challenged their authority in Novanny.
No other forces have ever tried to fight them, he corrected himself. That's the real mystery. What keeps the other noble houses in line? What makes even the military defer to them?
Respect for the Artorian church? Or simply respect for the legend himself?
That was the more likely answer. Artorias might have been gone for a millennium, but his presence still lingered over everything. The academy's wards were his work. The city's foundational protections bore his signature. Hell, all the advanced formation techniques taught here were at least partially based on his theories.
Hard to rebel against a family when their ancestor's magic keeps your city standing.
A knock sounded from his door again, signaling another annoyance. He had studies to read!
Quill turned around in his chair again, facing the door with the resigned expression of a man who'd accepted his fate. "Yes?"
Before the door opened, his eyes caught the scorchmarks that had appeared on the floor near the entrance. Dark streaks radiated outward from where his barrier had dissolved. Apparently, Lily had to use force to remove the two nobles.
The door opened, and in popped the Head of Communications, Master Amien. His expression was urgent, which was so rare that Quill felt his own anxiety spike in response.
“Quill, a message from Artorias City. Hundreds of sources tell me that a mana suppression affected the entire city yesterday! The entire city!”
“What?” Quill's blood went cold.
Mana suppression over an entire city. That's... that's not possible. Not unless...
“Is it a new kind of formation?”
Amien shook his head sharply, stepping fully into the room. “Every witness said it was filled with rage! Two earlier students told me the same thing; they said it must have been a single mage! It lasted for at least three seconds!”
Three seconds. Quill's analytical mind began calculating automatically. To suppress the ambient mana of an entire city for three seconds would require... gods, the power involved would be...
The numbers simply didn't work.
"...Have the Harrowblooms given any explanation?"
"I've sent them an inquiry; nothing as of yet." Amien stepped closer, dropping his voice to an almost conspiratorial whisper. "But how can this be?"
"It's not possible for a single mage to freeze an entire city with pure mana…" He spoke the words slowly, working through the implications. "Which could mean we're looking at a dragon visit, or even a new corrupted spirit."
An ancient dragon, maybe. Old enough and powerful enough to project that kind of overwhelming presence. Though, there would be destruction if that were the case.
"But there was no destruction." Amien echoed his thoughts. "If a group of enraged dragons had appeared, they would have destroyed something."
“Not if the Harrowblooms managed to activate their formations in time. I think we need to wait for word from them before making any conclusions.”
"Are you sure?" Amien's voice carried a weight that made Quill look at him sharply. "This feels like something we should bring to the Headmaster's attention."
The Headmaster.
The words seemed to echo in the suddenly still office.
The man his great-great-grandfather had served, and every generation since, in some capacity.
Quill didn't know exactly how strong the Headmaster was. He suspected no one did, not really. But he knew the academy had survived at least seventeen great wars without a single scratch.
And the only thing that never changed between those wars was the Headmaster.
Well, and the formation protecting the academy for the last millennium, made by Artorias himself.
“...Don’t say that so lightly, Amien. He hates being disturbed for anything that does not affect the academy. I didn’t visit him when the last war touched the city borders either. Perhaps when we know more.”
"Fine." Amien's shoulders sagged slightly. "I'll bring you news once they respond. But whatever this is, it's big."
"Yes, and I'm sure the queen will react appropriately." Quill forced confidence into his voice. "But as long as it does not affect the academy, I will not visit him."
It would only be the second time Quill visited the ancient elf. The first time was still burned into his memory. The day he'd received his position as head teacher, full of pride and nervous energy, ready to serve the institution he'd grown up in.
The Headmaster made it perfectly clear what my position is. I take care of the ordinary, the unusual, and the extraordinary. Only the exceptional, the once-in-a-century, should be brought to him.
The memory of that conversation sent a chill through him. Not because the Headmaster had been unkind—quite the opposite. But the casual way he'd spoken of centuries, the distant look in his ancient eyes, the sense that Quill was just the latest in a very long line of temporary administrators...
Once-in-a-century.
He looked down at the letter he'd been writing. Plans for an engagement between two feuding noble children seemed so trivial now, so wonderfully, blessedly normal.
Please let this be something the Harrowblooms can explain. Let this be ordinary, or unusual, or even extraordinary.
Just not exceptional. Not once-in-a-century.
Comments
Jason Bryant
How about once in a millennium?
