Back In My Day...

Murmuring conversations simmered between magical faculty members, forming a bed of sound that was immediately halted with a scattering of gasps. Vincent had slammed down the ever-warm coffee pot, which had faithfully served the staff room for generations, exerting a little more frustration than intended. The deafening clatter of iron on ceramic shocked all of Eldrich Castle’s teachers into silence, and forced a wince of regret into his scrunching shoulders. He had not wanted the attention he was now going to get.

“Everything okay, Professor Rowancroft?” the headmaster enquired in a gentle voice, that was equal parts calm and curious. Vincent found the old mans unshakeable demeanour to be infuriating. It would be a relief, one day, to finally witness him losing his temper, if only to prove that he was just as human as the rest of them.

“Apologies, headmaster,” Vincent said, turning from the slate and brick kitchen corner, with its many bubbling, cast iron appliances. He plastered a fake smile on his face and explained through gritted teeth, “I am feeling the wear of a long year and my patience is dwindling. This semester’s students have been…challenging. Last week, that dopey Rowena girl forgot part of an incantation and left my classroom covered in Engorgio Snail slime. Then just this morning, the Fallstar brothers blew the hair from half the class’s heads, eyebrows and all. I’m dreading the torrent of parental complaints I’ll now get for their moronic mistake!”

“Well, these things do happen on occasion, especially with the advanced potion making within this seasons curriculum.” He said, stroking the long white beard that seemed a requirement, for the head of a wizards school.

“I was teaching herbology…I don’t even know what combination of plants could become self-combustible…” Vincent sighed, scowling at the scattering of chuckles from his fellow professors, “I don’t mean to lament. I suspect I know the cause for the drop in intellect in these children. Its that damned human technology. It’s catching up so quickly to our craft, that it’s distraction is over powering the learning required to master true magic. I can’t compete with its allure and I’m losing them. They won’t listen, they won’t study and they refuse to respond to any of my punishments! They are intent on using those little devices for quick fixes and immediate answers, instead of committing to memory the lore that will enable them to fully succeed here. The attitude those glowing boxes instil is like…defiance without reason! I mean, some of them, I hate to say it, are so brain dead they can’t even produce a soul charm. Its as if they don’t even have one of their own to project!”

Vincent squeezed his clay coffee mug tightly and gritted his teeth. He hadn’t meant to unload all his resentment on the headmaster. It was quite inappropriate. But he needed to say something. The frustration had been boiling within him for so long, he had almost released it in a wave of molten atmosphere at the class the previous week. At least lost hair grew back, but napalm would have scarred permanently. To his relief, the old man seemed thoughtful, rather than affronted. Though that could be said to be his usual state.

“You are right, of course,” He said, standing to address the full contingent of staff present, “Perhaps I have let these curios of the regular folk persist too long. Tomorrow is the mid-term exam. I will decree all electronics banned henceforth. Let us see how the students fare on their wits alone, without the assistance of the humans intraweb.”

Vincent smiled at the elderly headmasters mispronunciation, but dropped his lips straight when the ancient master’s eye fell on him once more. He froze in place, nervous as the powerful magician stepped toward him and laid his hands on Vincent’s shoulders with a firm grip.

“Professor Rowancroft, would you put together some more appropriate tests of the students abilities? Demonstrate for us how much they have yet to learn?”

“With pleasure…” Vincent replied, an irresistible grin spreading across his face at the myriad of ideas that were immediately springing to mind.

Vincent quickly ran a comb through his shoulder length dark hair and put a rushed twist into his maturing moustache. He straightened the collar of his robes and ran his hands down its folds in an attempt to make it look like he had slept. For the first time all year, he was looking forward to class. The mid-term exam would take place in the event pantheon, as it always did. The grand, stone building was where he had spent all night meticulously conjuring the day’s tests, and after a quick freshen up, he made his way back across campus to add the finishing touches. Students would begin climbing the wide steps and entering under the columned frontage in mere hours and he wanted to be waiting. He could barely wait to see their surprise, when their phones and tablets were confiscated. It would be delicious.

The students gasps and horrified expressions did not disappoint. Despite his stoic front as he loomed over the queue, Vincent was relishing every reaction with glee. Let them feel a fraction of the unfairness that he had to face everyday. Let them experience what he did, when dealing with their entitled little attitudes. They had no idea what a minor inconvenience it was to lose their pocket encyclopedias. At least compared to what waited for them within. When he had been a student, things had been so much harsher. More vicious. It took a long time to get them all seated, most of them having forgotten their places without their digital reminders to reference. The miserable stomping and shuffling of disgruntled teens slowed things all the more. Their moods were unbecoming of any wizard, even a young one. Eventually, the room settled into an uneasy silence, and Professor Rowancroft stepped forward, to take centre stage.

“Welcome, students of Eldrich Castle!” He began, “You may have noticed some changes to this terms examinations! There will be no external references, no devices of any kind, no open books! You will pass or fail on your own merits and you will witness every moment of it, no distractions! Things will be far more…classical. Groups of four have been assigned, you will come forward, complete the tasks presented to you, or…you will not.”

He had of course, manufactured the groups himself. Some for pure entertainment value, such a the vacant Rowena and her air-headed companions, and others for at least a chance of success. Others, he had organised to make examples of. The Fallstar twins would soon feel the results of their tomfoolery, in a very real way. Giving no chance for preparation or discussion, he flicked his wand and initiated the first of his generated scenes. It materialised in the centre of the large hall for all to see. Simple illusions. Animated targets. Commonly used. However today, they would take the form of each teams most cherished loved ones. He watched calmly as shaking hands raised wands and cast the most simple spells. Fireballs, ice shards, wind slaps. Basic elemental weapons that punctured, burned and bled the students parents, partners and siblings. Most cried through their own actions, some wailed and fell to their knees after the fact, others froze and could not perform. Those, were expelled from the pantheon, and hopefully the school, immediately. It was important to learn early how the dark forces could manipulate your weaknesses. A strong wizard knew how to fight, regardless of the threat.

Once his first round had weeded out the weak, Vincent stepped forward to a more adequately populated arena. When he had progressed through his education, it had been a position of privilege. Only those most talented or deserving of magic were taught. Not the mass admission of anyone with a inch of promise that existed today. The number of youngsters who were only there for the ‘experience’ or to ‘find themselves’ was disgusting. His exam, would filter those out easily. The next challenge, would test their commitment. As well as hopefully teaching a lesson in hygiene. One most lacking in today’s adolescents. He twisted his wand and the floor receded, to reveal a unfathomably deep pool of filth. Grey water littered with floating refuse, rotting food and unidentifiable sludge filled the space.

“For those remaining, your next exam will be to enter the pool. You must use whatever tools you have at your disposal to retrieve a golden stone from the bottom. Present this stone and drop it into the basket at my feet. Oh, and by the way, there are more students than stones. Begin!”

Vincent watched with a sneer of disgust as the students battled to enter the scum encrusted water first. He was almost impressed when some few magicked full body shields. That would have been his choice to avoid the touch of the pool and seal a wrap of air inside. Others grew fins, produced breathing masks or wasted an incredible amount of power to separate a column, free from the dirty liquid. Only to find they could not ascend without submerging themselves completely and swimming upward. None chose to grow gills. That would have been foul. He chuckled to himself as he witnessed the more ruthless of the remaining class pushing those weaker ones under or throwing the odd concussion spell. He covered his nose when those of lower constitution, vomited and added to the pools rank liquid. Eventually, he had a basket full of gold nuggets and a class that displayed only the strongest of this years crop. Both in mind, body and tenacity. His tests, were working. He was finally shedding the dead weight.

There were eighteen remaining teens, over five groups, and each stood shivering and soaked. Some had slime trails on their skin and others smelled strongly of excrement. But all still stood, because they were strong. Vincent solidified the ground once more and made his last address short and sweet.

“The final test, for those of you who remain, is simple. Survive.”

With a chuckle only audible to himself, Professor Rowancroft ticked his wand, which opened one of the stone walls in a rising grind of stone. Before it reached its full height, the beast broke free. Crashing through the lower courses of the ascending wall and bellowing a guttural roar. The Minotaur was of his own making, and had taken the bulk of the previous night to conjure. It was colossal, standing taller than twenty feet and with thick horns that spread wide and sharp from its brow. Its encompassing hands were tipped with iron claws and its hoofed feet were quick to move. It would be a challenge that only the strongest weapon casters would meet.

The last of the teens scattered, some screaming in terror and others, the capable ones, already casting protection spells. The air filled with flying steel, elemental bolts and red lightning. The majority of which bounced harmlessly from the monsters thick hide. Had the students practised more often, perhaps their attacks would have a little more force behind them. Vincent’s eyes went wide when the first young man was gored through his stomach. He winced at the sound of another’s bones breaking, as he was hurled against the hard, stone walls. He nearly vomited himself, when a girl, whose name he had forgotten, was torn in half and her internal organs painted the masonry. To his surprise, the Fallstar brothers were still present, and their combined energy blasts were doing some damage to the creature. It was not enough to take it down though, and eventually, they too fell. Crushed beneath the cloven hooves of the beast like cockroaches under a boot heel. So it went, until finally the room grew still. The monster evaporated, as it was designed to do once its work was complete, and Professor Rowancroft was left alone in an empty chamber. Not a single student remained. All had left defeated, been cast out or been killed brutally by his beast. It was only then that Vincent realised, he no longer had anyone to teach. No one to grade, no one to judge, no one to push harder to reach a fraction of greatness. No job to go to. Nothing remained.

He blinked and the pantheon disappeared. Instead, before him was the headmaster, removing his heavy hands from his shoulders.

“Would that suit, Professor?” He asked, as if continuing a conversation.

“Sorry,” Vincent said, in an attempt to gather himself, “Would what suit?”

“Would you be willing to design some more appropriate testing for the students? Something more to your vision and standards?” He repeated.

Vincent looked past the large grey beard that filled most of his vision and saw the rest of the faculty watching intently from where they lounged in the staff room. The ever-warm coffee pot beside him began whistling as it boiled over.

“Oh…no,” he said, trying to process all that had happened, “The current curriculum is more than appropriate for the age and skill level of our children.”

“Do you have another suggestion perhaps?” The headmaster asked, his eyes glinting with knowledge and suspicion.

“I don’t know. Maybe my frustrations come from an expectation that can no longer be met. Times have changed so rapidly. We are more inclusive than ever.” He sighed, “It could be I, that needs to adapt. Find new ways of teaching that fit into the world as it is now…”

“Such a wise and insightful approach. We could all do well to emulate Professor Ravencrofts…self exploration…” the headmaster said to the room, “So be it, mid terms will proceed as usual, but I encourage you all to think of new and creative ways to engage this generation. For they will be taking our place as the worlds premier magic users, whether we like their methods or not! Lets get to work, and I will see you all again in the great hall this evening.”

The room emptied and Vincent found himself once more alone in an empty space. He blew out the air from his lungs in relief and found tears welling in his eyes. Could he really have been so vindictive? So filled with resentment to murder and expel every single student from his classes? He convulsed with shame that the headmaster had likely seen all he had done. The illusion had been a testament to the mans unimaginable power and his unwavering patience. It had been a lesson that had taught Vincent that he was still a student, as much as he was a teacher. He resolved to do better. To be better. To never again fall into such bitterness. Still, he closed his eyes slowly and shuddered when he heard the Fallstar brothers cruel laughter from the hall way outside. It could only mean another day of trouble. One that would test his resilience to its limits. At least, the boys were alive to do better though. For that, he was grateful.