What We Do to Survive

Avalon Academy is one of the greatest centers of learning in the known world. Two in five of all archmages in the last nineteen centuries were educated at least in part within the bounds of its sprawling halls and fields. It is also a dangerous place to learn. The professors believe that conflicts between students are just that––between students. The people of Avalon stand together against all outside forces, but internally they are not nearly as unified. One does not become an archmage by being timid or walking with the crowd. Two in five of all students do not emerge from the pocket dimension where the Academy resides. Of the remainder, only a few dozen will graduate each year, the rest either dropped out, or forced out.

Certainly some part of this lies in the danger present in all spellcraft. A poorly executed spell may kill the caster or render them as good as dead. Sometimes a successful casting can be just as lethal. Still, it is unquestionable that students act against one another on a daily basis.

There are some rules of course, particularly those made to protect new arrivals from the machinations of their seniors. There are also certain codes of conduct, times and places where conflict is forbidden. Private rooms are just that, private, and the grand library is considered a neutral zone. Rules are strictly and lethally enforced by the staff. Otherwise however? It is free rein as far as they are concerned.

I stared with dispassionate interest at the weakly struggling form of my former classmate. Her new… accommodations seemed to be holding fast so far. I’d initially used a small cage for storage, woven from enchanted threads and transmuted into titanium through alchemy. It had proven unfortunately insufficient and rather inconvenient. Not only did it limit access to my new research subject, but having her hands even partially free had almost proven disastrous.

I had underestimated the girl, perhaps rather foolishly. She may be a pathetic excuse of a mage and a worse ranger, but she was still more than a century my senior and well read to boot. If I hadn’t returned to my room early to retrieve some materials, I would have likely walked straight into a horde of summoned beasts. Elves were sufficiently magical that they didn’t even need to deliberately channel the mana when using somatic rituals, the hand movements sufficient to cast the basic summoning spells.

As it was, I had managed to interrupt the ritual in time, and then I’d carefully snapped each and every one of her fingers to prevent a repeat attempt while I figured out a new system to hold my captive. It only went to show how unfair an existence elves were that she was fully healed by the end of the week.

Her new restraints were far more thorough. Her torso was held parallel to the ground, supported at her belly with a metal plate. Two metal rings were cinched tightly around the base of her large breasts, a constant among elven women it seemed, and a rod passed between her breasts and ended with a collar, cinched tightly enough to almost choke.

Her hands were pulled up behind her back, bound with shackles at the wrists and elbows. Tight fitting mittens had been forced onto her hands, pressing her fingers and thumb together, then her hands had been curled and the mittens transformed into metal to prevent the smallest movement. Her legs were spread widely apart and bound, a long bar connecting more shackles on her ankles and then bolted to the stone floor.

Finishing the restraints was a blindfold and a gag, a tube connecting the gag, which extended down the elf’s throat, to a tank of nutrient paste I had purchased for her feed. Elves required limited food after all, but they did need some amount. The entire construct was then painstakingly inscribed with magic suppressing runes and durability enchantments.

I bit my lip as she continued to thrash against the transmuted titanium. She was putting up quite a fight, only the suppressing runes I’d carved into her back preventing her monstrous elven strength from rending through the metal. I knew that there existed better binding runes for elves, I’d even seen several examples of them in some of the attendants many professors kept on display, but this was all I had managed to cobble together. If this proved insufficient then I would… well I wasn’t quite sure what I would do. It had taken all my skills and the majority of my funds to make this happen. It had to work out. It had too.

Checking my watch, my eyes widened as I saw the time. I hastily turned away from my bound elf and crossed the short distance to my desk, scooping up my backpack and all but running from the room. My first class of the day was alchemy 2, and I’d apparently managed to work through the night on securing her properly.

Professor Meadows was a harsh mistress, utterly unforgiving and unyielding in the face of those she considered as slacking in her class. I’d only ever seen one student arrive late to her class, and she had transformed the poor goblin into granite for an entire year. There was an entire hall of statues littered throughout her classroom and office, and there were rumors that they were the remnants of students who had cut or cheated in her class. I wasn’t sure if that was true, but I was not exactly excited to find out.

Despite my haste, I did not drop my guard on the worryingly long run to the professor’s classroom. I circled my mana constantly through my body, sharpening my senses and strengthening my muscles, even as I kept my favorite shield spell primed at the front of my mind. I didn’t have any enemies per se, but then again that stupid cunt Mistletoe hadn’t known I hated her guts until it was too late. There were also plenty of students who would happily go after targets of opportunity, like for instance someone clearly sleep deprived and in a hurry like I was.

Fortunately nothing happened and I slipped through the door of the vast auditorium just in time. I took a seat near the front of the class, two seats down from my ‘friend’ Miranda. She flashed me a questioning look and I mouthed, ‘later’, gesturing to the front of the room where our professor was about to start the lesson.

Laying out my papers across three spots, I was thankful for the much increased room this semester. Unlike the first course, the classroom was nearly empty, only about thirty of us in a hall built to hold hundreds. Practical Alchemy 1 was a brutally difficult class but it was also a prerequisite for many upper level courses. Alchemy 2 on the other hand was only for people actually interested in alchemy… and only those brave enough to take a second class with Professor Meadows. At the moment, it meant I could easily reference the textbook, my notes from last year, the example questions she handed out, and my current notes all at the same time.

The bell rang just as I finished preparing, and Meadows began to speak before the echo of the final dong had faded.

“Good morning students, we have a few announcements to get through before we begin. First of all in local news, the Nine-Seven Sisterhood has dissolved rather violently,” a smirk flashed across her face, “it seems that some members were unhappy with the direction their little club was taking and decided to resolve the issue prematurely.” She gestured to a new statue standing near the entrance to her office. It was a tall, willowy woman, frozen mid stumble with her arm outstretched. “One of my students has really taken a shine to my art, I could not be prouder. If anyone wants to take a look, feel free to come up after class. The ritual she used was a bit amateurish, but perhaps you can learn something from it.

Moving on, my freshman class managed to lose three additional students yesterday. If you are sitting on the left side of the classroom, check under and around your desk for bits before testing any arrays. Wouldn’t want some idiot to mess things up for someone with actual talent.” She shook her head in mock sadness, the long rings of her thick green curls dancing around her face. “Finally, for anyone looking for a temporary research position, my husband is still in the market for a new assistant. The position is payed and is expected to last for three to eight months.”

With a flick of her wrist, a long stick of alchemist’s chalk appeared in her hands and she swept up to the chalkboard, the trailing ends of her toga whipping around her ankles. “With that out of the way, let’s begin. Last class we began to discuss multi-elemental transmutation and the challenges there in.” She swept her hand along the board and alchemical arrays began to draw themselves where it passed. “Today we will be discussing the opposite, converting one element into multiple distinct forms…”.

Taking a deep breath, I got to work copying down both the arrays and what she was saying. The enchantments on my pen helped keep my writing neat, but it was still a challenge to keep up with her. It seemed that today was going to be a purely theoretical lesson, and that meant my hand would be aching for the rest of the day.

“And that is why you should never consume alchemically created food or water. Any questions?” She timed the end of her lesson perfectly, the bell going off just as she asked for questions. I snapped my notebook closed and shook my hand, trying to get the blood flowing again after an hour of frantic note taking.

Miranda finished packing away her own supplies before I did, and she plopped down in the seat beside me, bag thrown casually over one shoulder. “So, what had you in such a hurry this morning, it's not like you to be running late? Also, you look terrible!”

I threw her a withering glare.

“What, it’s true! Your clothes are all mussed up, you have stubble coming in, and you look like you haven’t slept all weekend!”

“I haven’t,” I growled, “busy.”

“Well, that sort of behavior isn’t good for you! You know how important proper rest is, and you should always strive to look your best regardless. Like me!” She ran her hands down the little red dress she was wearing, the tiny bells dangling from her sleeves jingling soothingly. I bit my lip and forced myself not to look away from her face. She pouted, “You’re no fun.”

Miranda looked mostly human, but she was anything but. Her ancestry was a proper mess, with several sirens and succubi in just the last four generations. She might look like a bit of a ditz, what with the platinum blonde hair, the unnatural curves, and the skimpy outfits she always wore, but behind her glittering blue eyes hid a devious mind.

“Not now please Miranda, I’m too tired for your games. If you are feeling antsy, go fuck Liam’s brains out, or whatever your current boy’s name is.”

She giggled, her seductive laughter ringing unnaturally in my ears as her siren heritage worked its magic. I focused my mental shields, blocking out the powerful allure. “Unfortunately Liam went mysteriously missing last week, you’d know that if you were paying attention. I’m available if you are interested.”

“Miranda.” I said warningly.

“Oh fine, be like that.” She pouted, but the supernatural pressure vanished from the corners of my mind.

I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and turned back to my things. “Did you at least get anything useful out of him?” I asked over my shoulder.

“Not much sadly, his talent was meager. Still, bumped up my mana reserves slightly, and I think it improved my heat affinity.”

“Could be worse.”

She nodded, watching me in silence as I finished gathering my things. Miranda’s heritage had given her a very potent set of natural abilities. Through the combination of a succubus’s ability to feed on their sexual partners and the manavore abilities of a distant elemental ancestor, Miranda could drain energy and traits from her victims. Combined with the seductive powers of her siren bloodline and her own natural charms, she had cut a swath through the weak willed idiots who had somehow managed to get into the Academy, adding from their mana pool and abilities to her own.

We’d met near the start of our mutual first year at the Academy when she had tried to target me with her abilities. Unfortunately for her, she had been much less skilled back then, and her plan had backfired spectacularly. She’d ‘convinced’ me to take her back to my room, and then I had sprung my own trap. I had also been a far weaker mage back then, but I was a foot taller then her and she hadn’t been physically strong enough to break store-bought steel chains.

I’d kept her trussed up and gagged for several days before we came to an agreement. I hadn’t been confident in my ability to keep her long term, nor did I know what I could use her corpse for, and I had decided it would be a waste to just kill her and be done with it. Instead, she swore a carefully worded oath of loyalty and I let her go.

Since then, our relationship had blossomed into something of a mutually beneficial friendship. Avalon Academy made it hard to keep close friendships, even tight knit groups often dissolved violently, just as the Nine-Seven Sisterhood apparently had over the weekend. Having someone you knew beyond a reasonable doubt could not turn on you was invaluable. Still, the oath she had sworn was rather limited, so my current houseguest would remain my own little secret for now.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I turned to leave. Miranda bounced up beside me, her face wearing the vapid grin she used to great effect. “Lunch then?”

I shook my head, “Maybe next time. I have a meeting with professor Igor later tonight and I really should get some sleep.”

“Ok! Let me walk you back to your room at least?”

I gratefully accepted the offer and the two of us stepped together into the hallway. While classrooms were considered safe zones, with all interpersonal conflict banned without express permission from the instructor, the labyrinth of hallways, tunnels, and bridges that connected the sprawling campus were certainly not. It was why I always made it a point to stay a minute or two late after the bell, it was much easier to curse someone in a crowded hallway with no one the wiser.

Spells at the ready and mental defenses primed, the two of us made our way back to my room. Fortunately nothing happened on the way back and she left me outside my door, leaving me with a peck on the cheek and a cheery ‘sleep tight!’ before she vanished down the hallway.

She did not ask to enter my room, nor did I offer. We may be allies now, friends even, but it was hard to forget spending two weeks wrapped in chains and force fed gruel. With a tired sigh, I slipped into the relative safety of my abode. Thankfully it seemed my restraints had held, at least so far. The monitoring array I’d left around my captive’s corner hadn’t registered any spell casting and the bindings themselves remained in pristine condition.

The elf had stopped thrashing while I was gone, now just hanging limply in her bindings. The feeder tube was active, pumping food and water directly into her stomach through her gag. I was thankful that elves did not defecate, cleaning up after Miranda had definitely been a major point of awkwardness between us.

Once I’d confirmed that she was still secure, I quickly stripped out of my rumpled uniform and collapsed into bed. Mana circulation could stave off exhaustion and keep the body and mind running at full capacity, but magic had its limits and I was not very well practiced with the skill regardless. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.