"A Wizard's Staff has a Knob on the End"

The Tristain Academy of Magic was the premier institution regarding magical education. It wasn't hard to be. No one else has heard of any other Academy of Magic after all. Thus, most if not all, nobles from all corners of Halkeginia would send their children off to be educated there if they could. The Academy was selective in accepting students, often waiving or significantly lowering fees and requirements for children of Tristain. Aside from the issue of acceptance, there was the matter of travelling to and from the Academy as a foreign student. Case in point, there were few students from Romagna. Air travel was expensive, land travel was time consuming.

The same could be said of the teachers. Currently there was no foreign teacher in employment but there had been a few within living memory. To be accepted, even as a guest lecturer required not only skill in magic but the ability to teach it. Obtaining tenure, well, that was a rare, even more so than becoming headmaster. Headmasters could be sacked and replaced at will by the reigning monarch but professors with tenure were often given their position for life. Unscrupulous monarchs would probably resort to assassination in that case, even if it may not succeed.

Thankfully, the only professor with tenure was Jean Colbert, who had retired from his service to the Crown. While all nobles served the Crown in some sort of capacity, the Professor had come to dislike his time in service. Thus, only the current Headmaster and reigning monarch knew of his services to the crown. For the students of the Academy of Magic he was just a kind but stern, eccentric fire mage who preferred to show off his strange inventions than any of the more practical uses of fire magic. The staff on the other hand respected him, if not for his ability then at least for his intellect and knowledge. Unfortunately, the Headmaster would often prefer he actually teach his subjects instead of chasing legends.

Old Osmond, as many called him, was the current Headmaster of the Tristain Academy of Magic. He was old. So old in fact that his appointment had taken place before even the current reigning monarch had taken his spot on the crown. Now it looked like he was going to outlive the child of his liege and serve his granddaughter. One did not become Headmaster without great magical ability. One also did not retain the position without some skill in the realm of politics. Naturally there were plenty of hearsay and gossip about him. Some say he was a retired adventurer who happened to be in the good graces of the then king. Others say he was simply a bastard child of the royal family. The rumours paled in comparison to the troubles of actually running the Academy though.

Colbert, ever the academic had finally figured out the familiar of the young Vallière girl had summoned. It was the Gandalfr, a familiar of the Void. That in turn was the lost element of the Founder Brimir. So far, only he and the aforementioned professor knew. They were keeping the fact concealed and had kept it concealed for a good while already. There was no need to subject the young girl to the political machinations of adults just yet. The headmaster had known the girl to be a troubled child. She had difficulty with the simplest of spells and now she possessed a unique, so to speak, familiar. Osmond didn't have the heart to pile on another problem for her, even if they all stemmed from the fact that she was a Void mage. He was sure that he'd eventually have to tell the young girl. It was doubly so since Her Royal Highness Princess Henrietta had passed along an item in to his possession.

It was a relic, or a treasure, of the Founder Brimir. To be exact it was the Founder's Prayer Book. An innocuous little thing, one would think that it was just an empty book, what with the lack of writing held within. However, the wisdom of the Founder often escaped simpleminded men and Osmond was anyone but simpleminded. It was not meant for him. He was not a Void mage. Her Royal Highness wanted to gift it to her friend so that her friend could recite a passage during Her Royal Highness' wedding. It was tradition after all.

Osmond for a fraction of a moment, wondered if his subterfuge was all for nought if Her Royal Highness had chosen to entrust such a task to her friend. It had to be deliberate. Though in the end he found no reason why it was a troubling thought. He was obligated to report to the Crown anyway. If they deigned to ask that is. All he had been told to do was to pass on the book. He was not going to fall in the trap of paranoia. That way laid senility.

There was a knock on his door.

"Come in Jean," he answered.

The young fire mage entered. Everyone was young to Old Osmond. The headmaster put away the book.

"Headmaster," the young professor returned.

Long gone was the novelty of wondering how the headmaster knew who stood on the other side of the door. Instead the tenured professor slapped a piece of parchment down on his desk.

"I've found it!"

Excitable as always, Osmond thought.

"Indeed?" was his reply.

He didn't exactly know what the excited professor had found. The professor gestured at the map. It was a map of Tristain. More specifically, it was towards the western portion. Apart from the port of Rochelle were various towns and villages along the way. Red arrows and circles pointed to an extensive search and analysis. Osmond sincerely hoped that the map was a reproduction.

"If my calculations are correct, it should be there," Jean pointed at a town called Tarbes.

"Indeed?" the headmaster repeated blandly.

"The Dragon's Raiment," Jean continued.

Ah, that old legend, Osmond recalled. Something about a dragon that no one had been able to tame slumbering under the land. He had looked in to it once in passing. It definitely existed, even if there were several different accounts of the whole story. Jean's map pointed to a village named Tarbes.

"Headmaster, with your permission I would like to investigate," the professor continued.

"A venture like this," Osmond rubbed his beard.

The young fire mage was more than self-sufficient. There was little on the road that could Jean could not ward off, if not outrun. The issue of supplies would be minimal at best. Unlike the other professors, Jean had saved up the majority of his wages. He was to pay for the trip out of his own pocket. All that was left was to find him a suitable guide. He could be gone for days, even months, and due to his tenure Osmond would be unable to replace him. Well it wouldn't be, not in practical terms at least. Banishing the thought for now, he continued to argue with Jean about the merits of a guide. It wasn't really an argument. Osmond knew his staff well.

"I'm as easily swept up in the moment as you are weak to the wiles of women, Headmaster," Jean too knew him well.

"Then you must really be scatterbrained," Osmond surprised the young one.

He probably wasn't expecting Osmond to not deny his weakness. After all, it was one of the few ways to get his blood running, so to speak.

"I believe one of the servants is a local from Tarbes," the Headmaster continued, "I trust you will return with them unharmed."

Jean wasn't exactly scatterbrained. He was an academic and like most, tended to develop tunnel vision, especially when excited. The warning was well deserved. Before the young professor could argue, a muted explosion could be heard. It didn't even shake the foundations of the building but it put both men on alert instantly. It was Osmond who relaxed first before levelling his staff towards his scrying mirror.

Another hole had been blown in one of the towers. It was lecture room he recognized. Osmond remembered where his thoughts were earlier. The young Vallière girl was no doubt the culprit. From what he saw, there was only material damage. A little magic was all that was needed to fix the walls. There were no significant injuries.

"Again," Jean sighed.

The young professor had had the unenviable position of lecturing the Vallière girl earlier that morning. Thankfully she only managed to destroy his prized invention, rather than the whole classroom when he had asked her to help demonstrate the "happy snake." It looked more like a mangled mess of metal after she was done. Jean had been looking over Osmond's shoulder and was now beginning to appreciate how fortunate he had been.

"She seemed to be so in control," he continued as he surveyed the damage.

Well if Osmond was looking for an excuse to summon the Vallière girl then this was it. His thoughts turned from her specifically to her familiar. It was an extension, and proof, of her power. He recalled the incident in the spring, specifically the Staff of Destruction, and how familiar, no, the young man had explained how both he and the Staff had been waylaid. They were not of this world. Another thought struck him. What if the Dragon's Raiment was too not of this world? The discussion was still fresh in his mind. There was a chance that it was. Osmond recalled that the legend wasn't all that old, probably as old as he was if he bothered to count. Surely there must be some record or grain of truth to be found here. An opportunity to aid the young man like this could not be passed up. He had pledged his aid after all and a slim chance was better than none.

"Headmaster?" Jean was probably wondering where the Headmaster's mind went.

"Summon those involved if you please Jean," he ordered plainly, "I wish to hear the full report of the incident. Depending on what happened I may have to increase the size of your little expedition."

With only a small objection, the younger professor left to do so. All in all, it was a rather mundane thing that set off the whole incident. Osmond was right, Miss Vallière had been responsible. He was also not at all surprised that Fraulein Kirche and Mademoiselle Tabitha had been involved. The former had always irritated the young Vallière girl whilst the latter had been instrumental in protecting the students from harm. Ser Kirito was with his master but was mostly involved in the altercation indirectly. It seemed that Fraulein Kirche had been making advances towards the young man. He was told that these advances had been very forward and thus Miss Vallière had taken offence. Well he had just the punishment for the two culprits in question.

"The esteemed professor here," he gestured towards Jean, "is mounting an expedition. While I cannot condone your actions I regrettably outright punish you either. Instead, the two of you shall be accompanying your professor on his expedition. Perhaps a change of pace is required."

It was the Vallière girl who was indignant. He knew full well the Germanian was no doubt bored out of her mind. Theirs was a different way of living. Tristain, in comparison, was rather more reserved. Osmond also eyed Mademoiselle Tabitha silently. He knew she was an agent of Gallia. Why else would a Chevalier be attending his Academy in the first place? Well, he knew not her true agenda and whilst she acted within the bounds of the law he could not simply just will the information out of her. The last person his gaze fell on was Ser Kirito. It was obvious the young man would follow his erstwhile master wherever she went. The boy looked like he had something to say. As Osmond relayed one of his wishes to the serving staff, he asked,

"Something on your mind Ser Kirito?"

"This is a quest right?"

The others gave the Black Swordsman a strange look. Osmond merely smiled.

"I suppose it is," the headmaster answered.

The knowing look was all that was needed to be exchanged. It was unfortunate that the meaning would be lost on the others. Well, most of the others. It was Mademoiselle Tabitha that inclined her head.

"Yes Mademoiselle?" he enquired.

She merely nodded her head and staff in the direction of the Germania girl. He couldn't begrudge her request really. Perhaps that was why the Chevalier was attending his Academy. Children needed to know childhood. Whoever her master was, Osmond was truly thankful that they had had such foresight.

"You may accompany your friend Mademoiselle Tabitha," he allowed.

Her face remained impassive though her retreat in to the Gallian parade rest was more relaxed. It was after that did the maid arrive. After a brief conversation, and the finalisation of the details, the whole group started to leave his office. Before he forgot he called out,

"Miss Vallière a moment if you please?"

Giving one last look at her familiar, the young Vallière girl remained behind. Worried was her face. She feared he would be doling out extra punishment, or worse. If anything, Osmond tried to assuage her fears as he produced the Founder's Prayer Book.

"This book has been entrusted to me so that I may give it to you," Osmond started, "Perhaps you may recognise it."

She seemed to be aware that it was something important but couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"It's the Founder's Prayer Book," he continued, "Her Royal Highness wishes for you to recite a passage from within at her wedding, as is tradition."

It was thus with appropriate awe did she receive the book. That was one load of off Osmond's shoulders.

"It is an honour," she replied reverently.

"You will have your chance to convey your gratitude to Her Highness in person at a later date," he smiled, "You may also come in now Ser Kirito."

With that, the sheepish familiar rejoined her master. Osmond noted how his eyes honed in on the book as the two opened it up. The Vallière girl appeared crestfallen. Her familiar's grin, on the other hand, only grew.

"Isn't it great Louise, you got a spell book," he exclaimed.

Before she could rebuke him, Osmond interrupted,

"My apologies Ser Kirito, I may not have a suitable reward upon the completion of your quest."

"It's fine," he waved it off, "It's the journey that's important right?"

"Indeed," the headmaster sagely combed his beard, "To make it more pleasant, how about I teach you a song?"

"A song?" the two children wondered.

"Yes, it's called, 'A Wizard's Staff has a Knob on the End'," he supplied.

Again their reactions were varied. Miss Vallière turned a nice shade of pink. The young lady was more than familiar with that bawdry tune then. Ser Kirito was shaking. From the way he was comporting himself, Osmond figured the young man found it funny.

"It goes like this," Osmond continued.

-2,530 words-