The Administrative Wing of the Royal Academy was a cathedral of pretension.

  Pristine white marble floors reflected the light of floating glow-crystals, spaced perfectly every ten feet. Posters lined the walls, depicting stern wizards pointing wands at the viewer.

  MANA IS MONEY: SAVE IT!A QUIET MAGE IS A SOLVENT MAGE.REPORT UNLICENSED CASTING TODAY!

  Elias walked down the hallway. He tried to walk with the dignity of a Grand Archivist.

  This was difficult, because he looked like a banana.

  The "First-Year Novice Robe" was a bright, aggressive yellow. It was tight in the shoulders and stopped mid-shin, revealing his dusty boots and ankles.

  He felt a burning indignation. In his time, novices wore dignified grey. This yellow was a safety hazard. It screamed,

  "Stop clanking," Elias whispered.

  Next to him, Rylus was trying to walk on tiptoes. It wasn't working. The Knight was six feet of muscle and plate armor stuffed into a robe meant for a malnourished twelve-year-old. Every step was a symphony of metal on marble.

  "I am blending in," Rylus hissed, sweating profusely. "I am a stealth operative."

  He turned a corner and knocked over a decorative vase with his sword hilt. Rylus caught it before it hit the ground, looking terrified.

  Under Elias’s hood, Unit 74 let out a muffled . It sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

  "You are not blending in," Elias noted. "You look like a lemon that has been armored for war."

  They passed an open lecture hall. Elias slowed down.

  Inside, a Professor in blue robes stood at a chalkboard. He was drawing a diagram of a candle.

  "Now, students," the Professor droned. "Remember the Golden Rule of Pyromancy. Never use more than three MP for a flame. Anything more is wasteful. Magic is a finite resource! We must ration our cores!"

  The students, rows of bored teenagers in yellow robes, chanted back in unison:

  Elias stopped. He stared.

  He felt a cold horror settle in his gut.

  They were teaching birds not to fly. They were teaching sharks to drown.

  It wasn't education. It was containment. They were lobotomizing the potential of an entire generation because they were afraid of the bill.

  "This is heresy," Elias whispered. "They are measuring magic with a teaspoon."

  He took a step toward the door. He had an urge to march in there. To conjure a . To show them what magic . It wasn't a battery; it was a river.

  A hand grabbed his yellow sleeve.

  "Sir," Rylus whispered. "No. We are fugitives. You cannot adjutant-professor your way out of treason."

  Elias looked at the classroom. He looked at the bored students.

  "They are bored," Elias said. "Boredom is the death of the soul."

  "And treason is the death of the body," Rylus countered, dragging him away. "Keep walking."

  They turned a corner.

  And ran straight into a sash.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Standing in the middle of the hallway, holding a clipboard like a weapon, was a girl. She couldn't have been older than sixteen. She wore a blue robe, glasses, and a sash that read PREFECT

  Entity:Class:Level:Threat:

  Myra pushed her glasses up her nose. She looked at Elias. She looked at Rylus.

  "Halt, Novices," Myra said. Her voice was nasally and full of authority. "Why are you out of class during a Lockdown? Where are your Hall Passes?"

  Elias stared at her.

  He built this school. He laid the foundation stones. He wrote the charter. He the Hall Pass.

  "We..." Elias started.

  "We ate them," Rylus blurted out.

  Elias looked at Rylus. Rylus looked panicked.

  Myra blinked. "You... ate your Hall Passes?"

  "Yes," Rylus said, doubling down. "We were hungry. The cafeteria is closed."

  Myra narrowed her eyes. She scribbled something on her clipboard.

  "Eating a Hall Pass is a Level 2 Infraction," she announced. "Destruction of Academy Property. And gluttony. That is two weeks of detention."

  She pointed down the hall.

  "Follow me to the Discipline Dungeon."

  "The what?" Elias asked.

  "The Dungeon," Myra said. "For bad novices. We have a chalkboard that screams at you."

  Elias sighed.

  He refused to go to a dungeon. He had just escaped a sewer. He had standards.

  "I do not have time for detention," Elias said.

  "Then you should not have eaten your pass," Myra said smugly. "Move."

  Elias looked around. He needed a distraction.

  His eyes landed on the wall behind Myra.

  There, mounted on a plaque, was a large brass bell.

  THE TIME-KEEPER.Ring Only in Case of Emergency or Graduation.

  Elias smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

  "School," Elias whispered, "is out."

  He raised a finger.

  He didn't want to hurt anyone. He just wanted them to leave. To clear the halls so he could escape this banana-colored nightmare.

  He focused on the concept of . The feeling of a Friday afternoon. The joy of the final bell.

  .

  He pushed the mana into the bell.

  He forgot to limit the scope. He pushed enough "Freedom" into the brass to liberate a prison colony.

  BONG.

  The sound wasn't loud. It was deep. It resonated in the bones.

  But the magical effect was instant.

  A wave of pure, psychic liberation swept through the Academy.

  It hit Myra first.

  Her eyes glazed over. Her hand went limp. The clipboard clattered to the floor.

  "School..." Myra whispered. "...is... out?"

  A smile broke across her face. A wild, unhinged smile.

  "I quit!" Myra screamed. She ripped off her sash. She threw it on the ground. "I'm going to the beach!"

  She turned and sprinted down the hall, laughing maniacally.

  Then, the doors opened.

  SLAM. SLAM. SLAM.

  Classroom doors burst open all along the corridor.

  "FREEDOM!"

  Students poured out. They weren't walking. They were running. They threw their books in the air. They tore off their ties.

  "NO MORE MANA RATIONING!" a boy yelled, vaulting over a statue.

  The Professor from the combustion class ran out. He was holding a briefcase.

  "I hate teaching!" the Professor shouted. "I wanted to be a baker!"

  He threw his chalk at a gargoyle and jumped out the window (it was the first floor).

  Even the cleaning golems stopped sweeping. They dropped their brooms. They walked toward the exit with a mechanical swagger.

  "Sir?" Rylus asked, pressing himself against the wall to avoid being trampled by a stampede of liberated novices. "What did you do?"

  "I dismissed the class," Elias said. "With prejudice."

  They rode the wave.

  There was no need to sneak. The hallways were a river of yellow and blue robes. Elias and Rylus were swept up in the mob, carried toward the main gates.

  In the chaos, Elias was shoved against a wall.

  He stumbled. He put his hand out to steady himself.

  He looked up.

  He was standing next to a portrait. It wasn't the animated one from the Hall of Heroes. It was a simple oil painting, hanging crookedly near the exit.

  It depicted Headmaster Arion

  The painting was tilted to the left.

  Elias froze. The mob rushed past him, screaming about freedom and snacks.

  He couldn't save the curriculum. He couldn't save the students from their small, mana-starved lives. He couldn't fix the world.

  But he could fix this.

  Elias reached out. Gently.

  He straightened the frame.

  "There," Elias whispered.

  'Arion hated crooked things. He used to carry a level in his pocket.'

  Elias lingered for a second. His hand rested on the gilded frame. He felt a phantom warmth in the wood.

  "Sir!" Rylus grabbed his arm. "The gate is open! The Gatekeeper quit!"

  Elias pulled his hand back. He nodded.

  "Coming."

  They tumbled out of the main gates and into the city streets.

  The fresh air hit them. The students scattered in every direction, disappearing into the city like confetti.

  The Academy behind them was silent. Empty.

  Rylus leaned against a lamp post, panting. He pulled at his yellow collar.

  "You dismissed the entire Academy," Rylus said. "You cancelled school. Forever."

  "They needed fresh air," Elias said, adjusting his hood. "The classroom smelled of mediocrity."

  He looked back at the white walls. The gargoyles looked lonely.

  "Also," Elias added, looking down at his shins. "I need pants."

  He pulled the yellow hood down further.

  "I had liberated the youth," Elias muttered. "Now, I just need to liberate myself from this robe before I die of embarrassment."

  Status UpdateMana Consumed:Current Mood:Inventory:

  +1 Bag of "High-Velocity" Chips Reputation:Objective: