Classes had been cancelled for Gnosis’s students. The same way they had after the big party, only now the reason why was because most of the faculty had required rest and recuperation, on account of them being blasted, burned and generally bruised by the wards collapsing. Hector had a nightmare of a few days, though at least the healer told Michael he actually managed to Level.

And he wasn’t the only healer to do so.

It was Wednesday now and Michael walked the hallways with his friends, still seeing students and even grown mages sporting bandages or applying thick creams over visible burn marks. They would fade in time, most of them, since magical healing was still magic and nothing beat magic or so they liked to claim inside the walls of the academy, but everyone had been shocked by the fight.

The power balance inside Gnosis had been damaged as well. No one was happy.

The Martials should have been cheering and strutting about, but something killed that in the crib. Erea told him that Kelunad had called for a grand faction meeting the very night of the fight and announced that change would be coming. That he would welcome no more weakling mages among the academy and his faction both. He made it very clear that the Martials would not be sparred of this test, whatever form it might take.

Michael privately thought that the orc’s reliance on himself to ‘cleanse’ his faction might have been put on hold, since Kelunad very much seemed to be aiming to take matters into his own hands. He had certainly stopped responding to the mental messages Michael had tried to send his way.

On the upside, he was no longer being forced to choose the Martials. Oh, the faction at large still thought of him as an honorary member, but Michael could now once again choose to be an Ascentionalist. Which he did. He would be seeing Regitris about it later this day.

The other factions were similarly distressed. Ravena’s Naturalists had sequestered themselves even more from the rest of the academy. The way Micah told it, Ravena had chosen to shut herself off in her chambers and her faction followed her example, only on an even larger scale.

The Bloodlinked were silent. They still appeared to be on the Martials’ side, but what that meant was anybody’s guess. The Artificers were acting as if nothing had happened, still pestering the other factions about projects and funds. And the mystery faction? They had once again gone below the radar. Of the more minor factions, nothing could be told, except that they seemed stressed.

And the Ascentionalists?

Their leader had lost his Class. Narh told Michael that even the high-mages were unprepared for this. There had been discussions to replace him, but they didn’t have a better candidate. And yet their influence grew dimmer by the day. On any councils they held seats, on any matters they discussed, their opinion meant less and less. Already the Gnosian funds, both in coin and magic had started to be sent more the way of other factions than their own. The mages themselves were angry, but impotent. They couldn’t afford to take their anger out on the Martials and they couldn’t afford to alienate any would be allies. Oddly enough, Narh told him that the faction was looking to Michael for a solution. Some kind of mystery salvation.

As if I have any. No pressure.

When the time came, Michael said goodbye to his friends and walked into one of Regitris’s offices.

This one wasn’t as ‘magical’ as the ones before. It was just a room composed of rough diamond. Or different type of crystal, anyways. The floor, the balcony and the furniture were all made of what could only be described as ‘magical crystals’, both rounded and cut into shape. Compared to the offices of old though, it was positively austere.

“Michael, my boy.” The old elf smiled. “Take a seat, Hector here was just wrapping up.”

The tired |Magical Healer| fixed him with a look.

“The backlash is still in effect. It will take a few more days until it finishes. No grand magic before that. And call me if anything happens.”

“Yes, young man, I assure you I will not do something stupid. Again.”

The ‘young man’ with grey in his hair just snorted and bid his farewells, before leaving the room.

“I trust everything is alright with you, my boy. You no longer feel the pressure of choosing?”

“No, sir. The Martials stopped asking me to join. But… I think that most of them probably think I’m already a Martial. Just cosplaying as an Acentionalists.”

“…cosplaying?”

“Uhm… pretending, sir.”

“I see. Well, let them think. It harms none and may even benefit you down the line.”

My thoughts exactly.

“My I ask why you have asked me to see you, sir?”

“I asked because, in the light of my recent condition, changes will have to be made. Changes will be made, actually, regardless of anyone’s intent, but it is best to steer them as best we can.”

“Right. Sir, your… recent condition. Might I ask what happened?”

“Nothing the entire academy doesn’t already know.” the old elf laughed. “I lost my Class.”

“I… didn’t know that could happen, honestly.”

“Generally, it can’t. A |Mage| could stop practicing magic for decades and they would still be a |Mage|. Oh, their Class might evolve or join another, if the one in question rebranded themselves as a |Warrior|. They might become a |Spellsword| or an |Arcane Warrior|. A number of things. But yes, Classes generally aren’t lost.”

“But your Class was special?”

“My Class didn’t define what I did. It defined who I was. If a |Lord| lost its lordship, would he still be a lord? In Class or name, both? Same of a |King| bereft of his kingdom. Or a |Priest| who lost his faith. Some Classed come with conditions. And those range from holding on to some form of ownership, thinking along a set pattern or acting in a certain way. My Class was more of the later, though thinking in certain terms was certainly a part of it. Personality, you could describe it as, more than act and thought.”

“|Exemplar of Gnosis|.” Michael remembered. “Going by the name, I guess you had to be some kind of prime example of this academy?”

“Precisely. All that this academy means, I had to be. All of my acts, done for the good of the academy. I had leeway for my own opinions, but I had to always act in the interest of Gnosis. In exchange, I was granted power, influence, mana. Skills and Spells too. But… I could never use such power for any personal reasons. Which Mage Kelunad forced me into.”

Michael could see the slight distaste, but also the hidden pain on Regitris’s face, so he avoided asking more about that subject. Not that he would have been so thoughtless to ask anyway.

“So, you no longer have a Class?”

“No, my boy.” Regitris laughed. “Magic is not so cruel. My Class has simply changed. Though I believe I will keep my new Class a secret for a time. Yet… I am now bereft of Gnosis’s blessing. I did not feel it transferred on to Kelunad, but I did not think it would. No, but… there are other dangers still.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Michael asked honestly and Regitris laughed in surprise.

“I appreciate your eagerness, young Michael. But, for the moment, you being informed is enough. Your awareness and perhaps council is all I require.”

“Yes, sir.”

“On to the problems now, shall we? They are exactly as Kelunad named them. And I know you wish to ask why he did what he did. I believe this will share light on that as well. The first if me. He seemed to think the academy had grown weak under me. That my influence over Gnosis sacrificed the strong for the many. A difference in thinking. Perhaps… who knows if he is not right?”

“No, sir. Gnosis is an academy. Not… not a battle-school.”

“I think so as well.” He smiled. “Yet in times past it had been even more warlike than Kelunad would hope for it to become. Perhaps, it may change again. Because I have lost my Class. And my Class… allowed me to shape Gnosis. Channel its magic and will and through them, through a thousand thousand minute changes, I could bring my vision to life.”

Michael though of the way Gnosis helped him and imagined what he could do if he had centuries of experience and fine control.

Like the butterfly’s wings effect. A whole lot of small changes building up to a grand effect. Or a lasting one.

“Without it, even if Kelunad does not possess it… the Academy will no longer be tranquil. Feuds will start. Cohesion will be lost. And the strong will start to thrive over the academical. And this is where you come in.”

“Me, sir?”

“You have the power to channel Gnosis’s will. Or, perhaps, you have its sympathy. I could never tell, while I held my Class, for I commanded, while in you I see dialogue. The power of it all is now in the air and I could think of only one that may grasp it. Both Kelunad and I think alike on this matter.”

“You think I… could become an |Exemplar|? Me?” Michael asked disbelieving.

“In time.” The elf nodded. “Though… I would have you become an |Examplar|. I believe Kelunad would rather prefer you become an |Archmage of Gnosis|. Or |Monarch| of it. Perhaps… other fouler Classes. For the way your connection to it will develop will also impact the Class brought to you.”

“So… I have to get ready for this? For a Class change?”

At that, his faction leader startled, before bursting out in laughter.

“Get ready? By all means, my boy, do as you will. But, as you say, don’t hold your breath. If you are to receive the Class, it will come in many a year’s time. It would be a miracle for you to receive it just after you graduate. Yes, prepare yourself, for your connection with Gnosis will only increase. Perhaps you may even receive a perk or two. But no, this burden on you is many years in the future, I do so believe.”

“Oh.” Michael exhaled. “That… that makes me feel better. A lot.”

“Yes. I imagine it does.” The mage chuckled, before turning serious. “Yet, there is a more pressing problem. The second of Kelunad’s wishes. And it is far more urgent.”

Regitris took out a wand and cast a series of warding Spells, even as he grimaced and light flickered from beneath his robes.

“Michael. I will have your word that you will not repeat what I am about to tell you, not without a lot of thought. You may… have to. But I will have you promise that you will not do so lightheartedly.”

“I promise, sir.” Michael said and meant it.

Regitris smiled, nodded and told him. Of what the academy had found in the upper levels. Of the grand secret, shared only among the high mages of Gnosis. Of the forgotten creation of that insane species, the gnomes. And of what Regitris and the others thought it could do, when it would be set off, at the end of the school year.

Of course, it’s the gnomes. Fuck me, but they’re always the shit-stirrers.

“And that is why Kelunad asked of me. The promise that, unfortunately, will be kept. Especially now, when no one can stop him. He will have his first try at it. And I do not believe he will attempt to stop it… merely direct it.”

“Direct it to do what, sir?”

“I… do not know. Because even we do not know the specifics of that creation. But… perhaps it is best to think of it as a wish-making artifact. Kelunad would no doubt attempt to make it manifest his wish. And what is his wish, Michael?”

“To… rid the academy of weakness.” He said, in growing horror. “He’s… he’s going to get rid of anyone he thinks is weak.”

The Martials!

Michael jumped to his feet.

“Sir, we need to stop him! He’s going to wipe the Martials almost completely off.”

“Patience, young Michael. Yet… yes. I believe it too. It has long been a wish of his. Ever since… well. Ever since he saw what the Martials’s way of thinking can lead to, if left to fester for too long. The problem may be even greater, for we do not know how that artifact interprets wishes. Kelunad may purge his faction… or he may purge this entire academy. We cannot know.”

Dread filled Michael, but the elf calmed him down. Literally.

“|Calm|. Even for him it will not be easy to reach the artifact. Much less step in the same chamber as it and get close to it. The gnomes are… ingenious. Masters of their craft. Even if he did nothing but prepare for this journey, it will still take him a while. And a while we have to prepare. After all, there is only a single method I can think off that would make his task easier. And there are only two people who know of it.”

Michael thought about it and the answer came easily.

“The locket.” He said.

“Indeed. That artifact would indeed allow him to reach the artifact within the day. That is why I used the last of my influence to sequester it. It is no longer on display, but hidden and guarded by my entire faction. And even they know not what it is. That is why I say, calm. We have time to prepare.”

Michael nodded, breathing out.

“What would you have me do?”

“For the moment? Observe. Report. The orc may have cut contact with you, but he may well resume it. I do not want you to be involved directly in stopping him. That is far above your powers. But information-wise? You are needed, Michael. I understand Kelunad is still your mentor, but… I still ask this of you.”

“I’ll do it, sir.” Michael assured him.

How could I not? If he has his way… Erea, Bob. Everyone. Everyone will be gone.

“Thank you, Mage Michael. Now, I believe I have caused enough distress to the both of us. I’ll let you carry on with your day.”

Michael left Regitris’s office feeling both worried and assured. Kelunad… he wasn’t mad. Well, he was Thanos-level mad, but he wasn’t mad-mad. And still, if he got his wish, everyone was in danger. Still, at least the only way to quickly get to the artifact was a secret known only to Regitris and himself. And none knew they knew it.

Michael walked on and if there was a small part of his mind screaming that there was someone else who knew the secret, Michael didn’t notice it.