Do the Nuit dream? Do they sleep at all? I was once told in dreams you can only see things you've seen before. Does this apply to things past your death? I can't answer these questions, but I can tell of a dream. This is a dream of a man who is not the dreamer. Does the dreamer even know this man? More questions not to be answered. In spirit, the dreams live on. The room was large, but crowded. The room was kept rather dark, only lit by a few candles. It was a very gloomy atmosphere, like being sucked into a hole in time. The wooden walls almost felt like they were going to give way, and seamed to curve under the weight of the roof. The roof wasn't even level, and sagged in the middle. The floor creaked when anyone moved, making it all the harder to remain still. There were at least a dozen circles placed evenly around the floor, drawn with a thick black ink that smelled of death. Not surprisingly, the room didn't smell much better. Each circle had a student standing within it. All the students were tired, bored, and quite ready to do something beyond listen. At the front of the class, was a Nuit. He was letting out a long, monotone lecture on what 'was' and 'was not' a proper use of the magic he intended to teach. It was a really nice day, and James hated it. The wind was almost nothing, and the bright cloudless day only made the classroom an unbearable temperature in addition. But he knew it wasn't the end of the world, he was finally here! His first day in the actual lab, where the students would be first testing out their magic. He had practiced hard when he could, outside of class. He knew he wasn't allowed, and almost got caught a few times. He would have a strong start in the class, and hopefully not have wasted all his effort. He had a mission today, to take the spell he was to cast today, and seal it in the page he had carefully hidden on him. The teacher seamed easy to fool, he more then once got away with eating in class, passing notes, he probably could have cheated on a test. He was sure some of the other student's had. His page, how long had he worked on it? Studying the various glyphs he knew he would need. Practicing making them almost constantly. He even managed to store a fair amount of Djed away on a plate in his room. He didn't care much for the class he was in, he had no intentions of becoming great in the art. It was a stepping stone, nothing more. He was learning so he could further practice the magic he really wanted to learn. He knew many of the mages here wanted to make an impact on history, make something no-one else had. James cared not to learn every magical art or become anything great, just wanted a steady, happy life. He knew just how to get it. With how many wizards were out there, D-Wire was very important. James hoped a career in making it would keep his life easy, steady, and out of the way of the hazards of their magic. Until that day, he was stuck with the crowd, the dark, the gloomy classroom, the smell, the mages, the teacher, the heat, and the wait. Why did he pick Voiding? Learning any magical trade would be enough to further his true intended art, the one he'd use to store the spell he cast today; Glyphing. "So in conclusion and review: No using voiding on anything that moves of its own power, no hiding things, no destroying things, and no using voiding without the supervision of a teacher trained in Voiding." As the instructor finally finished speaking, the whole classroom seamed to feel as emotionless as the teacher's voice. The pervading gloom of the room now felt like a living, breathing thing in comparison to the students who had actually attempted to listen to the lecture. The students were all half asleep, if not more. James decided to start counting off the seconds. 29, 30, 31, The student's began to wake up, their eyes more alert. It didn't start quick, but before James reached a minute, everyone had managed to wake themselves up. As the student's grew more alert, the overpowering dull of the class seamed to melt away. The tension seamed to be growing at an alarming rate. James did his best to pretend to be excited, but he already knew the basics of casting. He felt betrayed when his parent's taught him. At that thought, he suddenly remembered that they hadn't been through that trial yet. The other students could barely keep quiet, or still. The instructor then asked his final question: "Are there any questions?" One of the students swiftly raised his hand, and the Nuit nodded, slowly. "Can we begin making portals now?" James already knew the answer, it cast dread on him to remember. A times X to the power of B, turns to A times B times X, to the power of B minus one. The Nuit looked slowly around the room. "First, you must learn what the portals are made out of." The students looked confused, they'd heard the lecture before, but it must not have sunk in. "Nothing." "Then, how do we make them?" The same student as before. "You will each be fed, well rested, and prepared for a long trial. Some will learn faster then others. Not all of you will succeed. Those that do will be allowed to continue the class. Those that do not will continue attempting the trial until they can truly understand the meaning of nothing. If you cannot do this, you fail the course. The trial starts tomorrow. Your other classes will be suspended until you finish the trial. Class dismissed." James wondered what it would be like being the only student in class for a while. Him and the Nuit, alone. He considered taking the trial again. |