Chapter 12: Transportation Sigil

Dreams are inseparable from our unconscious minds. They are universes superimposed over our mundane realities. Worlds our imagination conjures to escape the dread of life. But not all dreams act as an escape from life. Sometimes there are dreams we wish to escape from. These dreams are called nightmares. Like an incubus, nightmares are suffocating creatures, eating away at our unconscious mind. They invite horror into the joys of our lives. And for a god who has never experienced dreams, Azrael is overcome with immense fear at one nightmare that haunts him every night. The same nightmare—over and over again. The same nightmare that disturbs his peace like a poltergeist.

This nightmare always starts the same—a voyeuristic view of a lonely mansion. It's night and a storm brews in the distance. An ominous wind rustles the leaves of the forest surrounding the house. Crows circle the empty mansion. Then his voyeuristic view drops to the ground and he's stalking the dirt below. His knees hurt. His body aches all over. He can feel something crawl down the side of his cheek but can't determine what it is. Then he hears the rattling of chains behind him. He withdraws his gaze from the ground up and watches the mansion. The sound of chains rattling intensifies. Though he tries to turn his head, he has no control over his body. His heart pounds. His throat is parched and his lips chapped. The winter wind numbs his bare fingertips and toes. The rags covering him offer no more heat than a potato sack does. Once he is jerked onto his feet, the dream ends with Azrael jumping out of bed, sweating profusely. He pants heavily as he leans his head into his palm. That dream again? How long has it been since the first one?

This monotonous morning routine has plagued Azrael since he arrived in the Mortal Realm. To him, what feels like an eternity observing that lonely mansion is several hours of moaning and crying for his roommate, Arthur—who, for better or worse, has not brought up these long nights. Whether it was in fear of finding out why Azrael was disturbed, or out of care for the now mortal god adapting to his new life, he didn't know. What he did know was that there seemed to be no end to the god's nightmares.

"Hey, Azrael," says Arthur as they sit around the breakfast table.

"What is it?"

"Have you been having nightmares as of late?"

The question was like a pause in Azrael's life. He sat there idle, like a statue. Shocked at Arthur's question, Azrael could not think of anything to say and his mouth responded automatically with, "No, why?"

"Nothing, I was just curious."

A simple exchange of words left an awkward atmosphere between him and Azrael. One that bled into the class 1A's atmosphere.

"Hey, Arthur. Is something going on between you and Professor Azrael?" asks Calliope.

"N-Nothing," he stutters. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just, that I noticed whenever you both exchange glances, your heartbeats increase dramatically."

Calliope Nida was born with heightened hearing. She can perceive every sound surrounding her—from a human's beating heart to an ant's footsteps, nothing can escape her sensitive ears. When she was young she was forced to wear a magical necklace that protected her ears from overstimulation. Now that she has control over her magic, she can drown out the filler noise as she wants; however, this does eat away at her mana.

"It must be your imagination."

Calliope stares at Arthur intensely. When someone lies, their heart rate increases because of the anxiety they experience. She can hear his heart beating maniacally but chooses to ignore it. If he doesn't want to tell me, I shouldn't badger him about it, is her view on the matter.

However, Arthur has another observant friend who doesn't share Calliope's sense of privacy. "You're acting weird, you know," says Tyson, ignorantly munching on bread. Though his grades don't show it, he is the twentieth-ranked student in the first-year class group. Because of his childhood growing up in the slums, he's developed perceptive eyes. "It's like," he continues, looking at the sky, "you've got a negative energy haunting you. Like a ghost," he says, smiling.

"G-ghost?" Calliope turns to Arthur, frightened, "Y-you don't have a g... ghost haunting you, do you?"

"Not that I know of," he says, laughing. The tense atmosphere clouding his thoughts clears as his mind drifts from Azrael's nightmares, when he stops laughing, though, the cloud returns. "Hey, Calliope, Tyson, can I ask you both a question?"

"Sure."

"Say there's someone you know who's experiencing nightmares but doesn't want to speak about it, what would you do to help them?"

"A nightmare?" asks Calliope. "I don't know. I'm not well-versed in dreams and nightmares."

"Why don't you ask Alora?" asks Tyson.

Seat Rank 14: Alora Dream. She is known as 'The Elusive Alora' because she constantly drifts into a deep slumber. Despite this slothful factor of her personality, though, she is one of the brightest and most powerful students in the first-year class group—that is, when she's not sleeping.

"With her Dream Magic, she should have extensive knowledge of dreams and nightmares. You could even ask her to help you resolve those nightmares."

That seems like the best option but involving one of Azrael's students seems risky. Should I ask her for advice on his situation? As Arthur ponders this thought, the bell tolls, ending their break period.

"Today we're constructing transportation sigils," says the magic engineering professor, Albert Stein. After Azrael, he is the second youngest professor at the Magus Academy. With his striking good looks and kind and helpful personality, he is the most loved professor in the academy. He is also one of the leading scholars in Magical Studies and Magic Engineering. With his personality and extensive knowledge, he is also the most approachable professor in the academy.

"Transportation sigils?" asks Tyson. "Professor Albert, what are those?"

"Transportation sigils," he says, walking to the board and drawing a magic sigil with chalk, "are magic circles with a transportation command. As you know magic circles obey commands, so we chant when performing magic arts. The transportation command is a Spatial Art that sends an object from one spatial location to another, designated, location."

"But if it's space magic, wouldn't it be impossible for us to construct a transportation sigil?"

"Are you slow?" asks Karren, annoyed. "We learnt this in Magic Studies. If you infuse an object with a magic attribute, the object will gain the properties of said attribute."

"As your classmate said," interjects Albert, "you will use chalk I imbued some of my mana into for this class. With magic circles, the attribute used to construct the circle will be the attribute you'll find as your outgoing magic. That said, let's construct transportation sigils."

Lately, thinks Arthur, the classes have become tedious to attend. Arthur finishes his transportation sigil as he ponders this thought. Everything they teach in this academy, I already learnt from Azrael. When he first taught me about mana and the three realms, I was excited. Now, he sighs, there's a divide between us. It's something deeper than my mortal and his immortal existence. Does Azrael not trust me anymore? I nearly lost to that knight-class angel a few weeks ago; could that be it? If I used my true power there, I could have easily beaten that knight. He scans the class, no one in this class can defeat me in a fight. To me, they are just budding flowers. Amateurs carving their way into becoming professional scholars. But is that the path I want to go down? I am one of the Primordial God of Death's vassals, awaiting his return to power. But what am I after we defeat Azazel?

As Arthur sits there, deep in thought, an olive-skinned girl, with brown coloured hair and eyes, taps him on his shoulder. "Uhm... Arthur?"

He turns to face the girl and says, "Chari? What is it?"

"No... uhm... I..."

Chari is a shy girl and doesn't speak much. Her voice is soft, like a mouse. And she's much shorter than anyone else in class. She reminds me of Raven, he thinks, laughing.

Chari starts blushing, "I... I'm..." Without saying anything, she runs back to her desk, her face flushed.

"What was that about?" asks Tyson.

"I don't—"

"OH!" he yells. "You finished yours already!"

Everyone looks at Arthur after Tyson's outburst. Albert, who had been helping a student understand the construction, glances at Arthur. He smiles at the student and walks over to Arthur and Tyson. "I heard you finished your construction."

"I did."

"Can I see?" Arthur nods his head. Albert places his fingers on his chin as he observes the transportation sigil. His eyes glaze and his jaw drops. "This is..." He glances at Arthur and asks, "Have you done this before?"

"Construct a transportation sigil? Yeah, I did."

This is the work of a professional, thinks Albert. How can a student have such skills? Is he a genius? Albert looks at Scarlett and Yukio, from my understanding, those two are hailed as geniuses of their respective families but they do not compare to him. Arthur Pendragon, why have I never heard of this boy's genius? "Did you learn this from someone?"

"Yes, I did."

"Your parents?"

"No."

"Master?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask your master's name?"

"He'd like to stay anonymous," says Arthur, smiling.

Anonymous? Is it one of the Ten Wands? No, knowing those stuck-up... those 'geniuses', they'd want everyone to know their student is attending this academy, as the headmaster did with that monster of a girl in the B class. If it's not one of the Ten Wands, is it a sage? A wandering scholar? I want to know but I can't pester this boy for answers.

"Uhm, Professor Albert?"

"Ah, sorry, I was just thinking."

"Is there something wrong with my sigil?"

"No, I'm surprised because it was perfectly done. When crafting a transportation sigil, or any sigil, you must let mana run, in even portions, from your body, through the medium, and onto the surface of the construction. This requires expert levels of mana control to execute; you did a wonderful job not skewing your mana. If you did, the sigil would not perform its intended task and in rare cases, explode. Well done, Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur smiles as Albert praises his work. Well, I never expected to fail at constructing a sigil but it's nice to receive praise for my work.

—Headmaster Ubel Zagan's office

Azrael sits in the chair opposite Headmaster Ubel, annoyed. Ubel has been sorting through documents for the last ten minutes, ignoring Azrael, despite calling him. "Regarding your student, Seat Rank 4, Amanda Vlad, we are concerned that she may be hostile towards the academy." Someone knocks on Ubel's door. "Enter," he says.

As instructed, the person opens the door and in comes Elizabeth. "You called for me, Headmaster—" Her eye catches wind of Azrael, seated opposite Ubel and her hand starts shaking. A cold shiver runs down her spine and her eyes dilate. "P-Professor Azrael... It's wonderful seeing you here."

Azrael gives her a dismissive glance. Arial must have delivered the message as instructed. At least I know she won't send spies my way for the time being. When she takes a seat next to him, he looks at her again and thinks, Is there something different about her?

He thinks about this as Ubel continues, "As I said, we are concerned about Amanda Vlad's intentions. And we must also address the loss of one of the academy's students. Your class is short one student since Amanda has departed, right? I suggest we move the twenty-sixth student up one rank."

"Are you crazy!" yells Elizabeth. "Are you trying to move my best student into his class?" she asks, pointing at Azrael. "I refuse! I will not allow that to happen!"

"Now listen here—"

"I also refuse this suggestion," interrupts Azrael. "Having twenty-five students or twenty-four students does not concern me. We are the A class and will prove that on the mid-year exams."

Ubel smiles. "Is that so? If that is your wish I will leave Seat Rank 26 in Professor Elizabeth's class, for now. As for Amanda Vlad's unknown objectives, the academy's council has decided, that if she poses a threat to the academy or this kingdom, you will eliminate her on sight. Am I understood?"

"Crystal," responds Elizabeth.

Ubel looks at Azrael, cautious, "Am I understood, Professor Azrael?"

Azrael gets up from the chair and walks to the door. "If she is a threat, you have my word that I will not show her any compassion. However, if she is an ally, I do not care if it's you, Headmaster Ubel, an academy council member, or the King, I will defend her with my life. Am I understood?"

They exchange glares. With no words spoken, he leaves. "That boy—"

Before Elizabeth can finish, Ubel's mana spikes menacingly. It makes Elizabeth's jaw drop and body shudder. Azrael, he thinks, you never cease to disappoint me. If Amanda is indeed an ally, I wonder how many scholars will die fighting that boy. Just the thought of it makes him smile sinisterly. We'll have to wait and find out.