Short Story – Orientation

“Excuse me Archmage, I don’t mean to interrupt, but can you help me?”

I looked down from where I hovered. There was a hapless-looking little wisp of a girl in novice robes. I floated down and set foot on the stone floor, then asked, “What aid do you need, apprentice?”

“I’m to report to Archwizard Grimalkin. Do you know where I can find him?”

I shook my head. “You’re a student of Archwizard Loriman’s, aren’t you?”

“Yes… did you read my mind?”

“No. If you’re looking for Grimalkin, I know why you were sent, though. You’re a divination adept.”

“Yes… is Archmage Grimalkin a divination teacher?”

“Of a sort. He’s kind of a legend around here.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“So imagine you’re a talented transmuter. One who knows how to alter the structure of matter, the very fabric of reality. Where there was one chair, now there are two. Where there was a chair, now there’s a goat. Sounds like a wonderful sort of power, correct?”

“I think so.”

“What is the core teaching of the diviner adepts?”

The girl stood up straight and recited the creed perfectly, “Nothing Hidden, Nothing Forgotten”.

“Well done. Do you know the corresponding creed of the transmuters?”

“No.”

I cleared my throat. “Everything is nothing and everything is everything.”

“That sounds… no, I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

“It means all things are nothing, of no fixed form, which means transmuters understand how to break them down to their most indivisible elements, which are the same for every bit of matter in the world. Then, they can recombine those elements as they wish. Making anything. Do you see now?”

“Yes.”

“From day one, this creed is taught to the transmuters, but it is a warning as much as an observation. Some feel that such equivocation diminishes the individuality of discreet objects. Where one transmuter sees a bond between all things, another might become apathetic, recognizing that the logical conclusion is that matter and by extension, even creatures are not really worth keeping track of or interacting with them you have to. A sort of grand apathy. “

“And Archwizard Grimalkin falls into that second category of thought?”

“Well guessed, diviner. Our transmuter understands that on a material level, everything is the same, and likewise on a philosophical level. The only thing he might actually find valuable are truths that extend beyond the physical or even the biological, essential underpinnings of reality itself. We wizards all run the risk of supreme detachment as we unweave and reknit the skein of the world.”

“What does this have to do with Archwizard Grimalkin?”

“Grimalkin found plumbing these academic depts irresistible. He spent less time with his students and his peers, his only true desire to stay in the lab, experiment, research, and leave the meaningless spinning world to itself. Don’t think that any of us are above such obsession. Believe me, I knew his motivations as well as if they were my own.”

“Why then remain a teaching wizard? Wouldn’t he have been happier going somewhere he could isolate himself?”

“There’s the dilemma such a poor wretch must face. Here there are people, but there are also books. Resources. No greater collection of knowledge and magical ingredients exists in the whole world than this esteemed college.”

“So, it had what he needed, so he didn’t want to quit. He, however, wished to remain in a constant state of experimentation. Do I have it right?”

“You do. The solution was simple for him, I think. He started hiding. How well do you think someone who can literally make twelve of himself or turn himself into a grandfather clock might hide from his peers.”

“Very well, I think.”

“And finding him?”

“…would take a diviner.”

“So what does that tell you, apprentice?”

“It’s… It’s a test.”

“Yes. I pity you.”

“Oh dear.” Her face fell sullen, like a first year maths student being asked to solve ninth-year equations using only a bag of beans.

“Don’t fret, apprentice. You’re meant to fail. As I understand, every new divination apprentice has to do this. It’s a test of talent, a lesson in the limits of your power, along with a sort of hazing. I’ve seen many try. Most of them give up after a day or six. How long have you been looking?”

“Only a half hour.”

“Oh… did you come straight here?

“This is the first tower I came to on the campus, yes.”

“Did anyone tell you to search this one specifically?”

“No. It just felt… well… like the way I should go.”

“Oh… well… that’s something.”

“Why?”

“Let me escort you to the door and I’ll tell you. I do have things to which I must return, you see.”

“Of course, Archmage… I’m sorry, what was your name?”

“That’s of no matter apprentice. Now, I have two tasks for you.”

“What are they?”

“Tell the Loriman that his first roommate says he’s a bastard. Don’t worry child, you’re only quoting me. He won’t be cross.”

She swallowed. I ushered her into the hall.

“I will, Archmage. What’s the second task?”

“Inform him that you succeeded.”

She stared at me with wide eyes as I closed a door that had not been there before this morning and that would never be again.

NOTES: This little fantasy bit was another prompted story. The hook hit me immediately, but the destination didn’t arrive until I was halfway through. I hope found it entertaining.

Get it? Found? Ha, I kill me.