Sylan Myrkul Backstory

“Sylan? Are you paying attention?” The reptilian professor asks.

Sylan looks up from her book. She doesn’t know why she’s even taking mathematics. This is supposed to be an academy of the arts, as in the arcane arts. Why would she need to know algebra to cast spells? They keep talking about tracking magic expenditure, but she feels like it doesn’t matter too much as long as she doesn’t use too much magic at a time. If she only casts one or two spells per day, then she’ll never over exert herself. Of course, she’ll want to do more than that. But she figures she can just approximate how much magic she has used. She won’t use the last of her magic. There are symptoms of over exertion. She’s not going to accidentally hurt herself just by using magic. People don’t get themselves hurt because they don’t notice that they’re using too much magic, they get themselves hurt because they decide to keep going even after symptoms show up.

The reptilian professor waves his hand in front of Sylan’s face. “Sylan? Sylan? Pay attention, this is important.” Sylan doesn’t even know why the academy hired a reptilian, a cold-blooded reptile but humanoid in shape and anthropomorphic in measurements. The creatures can’t use magic. Some people think it’s because they’re cold-blooded, but that’s foolish. Reptilians simply can’t cast spells because they are animals. Intelligent, anthropomorphic animals, but still animals. And everyone knows that animals don’t have magic. And this creature is trying to teach her math. Sure, math is a subject that doesn’t directly relate to magic, but this is the academy of the arts. They only teach math for the express purpose of tracking magic expenditure.

“Sylan? What do you have to say for yourself?” Sylan doesn’t want to talk to a reptilian. She wishes this class was over so they could learn something useful and interesting. When will she finally learn to actually use magic? She’s been here for two years, but they haven’t even breached the subject of actually casting a spell. If she’s got latent magical ability, why hasn’t she been allowed to use any magic yet?

9/27/21

Clack, clack, click, chatter. The reptilian professor turns to face the Chitin sitting a few seats to  Sylan’s left. “Yes, Mycal? You have a question?” Click, click, clackety-click. “Ah, I was hoping someone would ask. Yes, when there are multiple variables, you…”

Sylan can’t bother to pay attention anymore. She’s glad the professor got distracted by Mycal, the transfer student. What a strange creature Mycal is. He’s a Chitin. Or, is it a she? Sylan can’t even be sure that Chitins have different sexes. Chitin, the more common name for the Anthropoda, intelligent creatures that are human-sized anthropomorphic arthropods.

Sylan was told to be accepting towards non-humans. But reptilians are strange enough. How is she supposed to interact with a Chitin? They don’t even speak! They clap their mandibles, pincers, and far too many arms and legs in order to communicate with non-Chitins. She’s heard that Chitins don’t need to make any sort of sound or gestures to communicate with each other. It’s weird.

She doesn’t know why a Chitin would be a student in the Academy of the Arts. Like the reptilians, they don’t have magic. Do they really think they can learn magic without being human?

Sylan puts her head down on the desk. She tries to ignore the human-sized millipede that sits two chairs over. Eventually, the class ends, and Sylan can leave to get ready for her favorite class: arcane principles. It’s the closest class she’s had to teaching magic. Though it mostly discusses the theory of magic and how it works rather than any way to actually use it.

9/28/21

Mathematics is the only class that Sylan has with Mycal the millipede Chitin. So she is glad that going to arcane principles means that she won’t have to be in the same room as a Chitin anymore. However, her class on arcane principles starts in three hours, so she doesn’t have any classes for a while.

As she is waiting and taking out her books, she remembers the letter she received directly from the Board of Directors for the Academy of the Arts. She has a meeting in 30 minutes. She had forgotten about that. It's a good thing she had used the letter as a bookmark or she might have missed it.

She makes her way to the special office where the Board of Directors hold their meetings. Sylan suspects that she is called to the meeting, so the Directors can expel her. It sure has taken them long enough. She has been here for two years, and she would never have been accepted if it wasn’t for her extraordinary natural talent in magic that she demonstrated in the entrance exam. If the tests she takes in her classes were anything like the entrance exam, she would have never failed a class. Unlike the demonstration of magical talent the entrance exam called for, the tests she takes now are all written tests that ask her to demonstrate her knowledge and discipline.

She thinks it’s unfair. She hasn’t been taught any magic. She figures she would learn a whole lot better through practice than studying. She is sort of glad that it’s finally over, but she still wishes she could somehow continue to learn magic at the academy. She feels like her whole life’s purpose was to be some magical prodigy that would take magic to new heights. But she’s the worst at magic in the whole academy, excluding those that have just joined or are incapable of magic to begin with.

“Ah, Ms. Myrkul. I’m glad you arrived on time for our meeting.” The Director of Sorcery says to Sylan Myrkul. She just hopes the Directors don’t draw out the meeting and just get it over with quickly. It’s already humiliating enough to stand there, waiting for them to officially and magically expel her from the academy.

“You’re probably wondering why we called you to this meeting.” The Director of Sorcery continues, “After all, it’s been a whole month since we last met.” Sylan remembers that her last meeting was her last warning. She was supposed to change her attitude and start doing the work or she would be expelled.

“I know why you’ve called me here, and I’m surprised it took this long.” Sylan says, “Let’s just get this over with.” The Directors look amongst each other, and grumble amongst themselves at Sylan’s breach of protocol. She isn’t supposed to speak in such a meeting unless she is asked to do so.

“Sylan, do you really know why we called you here today?” The Director of Divination asks.

“Yes, it’s obvious.” Sylan says.

“Have you, perhaps, been practicing divination again?” The Director Divination asks.

“No, I don’t need magic to know what’s going on.” Sylan says. Some of the Directors are grinning to themselves, amused.

“We doubt you could have thought of a course of action that took so long for us to conceive. Even with the help of divination, the plan was obscure.” The Director Divination says.

“Ms. Myrkul, we have long been troubled on how to help you in classes that are more academic than arcane. We’ve given you tutors, roommates to act as role models, and even private lessons. But nothing helped. But a few days ago, we were evaluating the professors and students and were inspired by something your mathematics professor, Green Scales, reported to us. He reminded us that Chitins are exceptional students.”

Sylan is starting to think that the Directors don’t plan to expel her. But she can’t fathom what plans they have that are related to the mention of Chitins.

“We would have expelled you today if it weren’t for this last hope to teach you to be a good student. The Director of Sorcery says.

The Director of Divination says, “We know that you’ve been needing a new roommate ever since that unfortunate incident at the graveyard. And Mycal, the Chitin, hasn’t exactly had a warm welcome. So we thought, maybe the both of you could benefit from being roommates and going to all the same classes.”

Sylan can hardly believe her ears. There is no way she can accept a Chitin as a roommate. “You can’t let the Chitin stay with me in the woman’s dorm!” Sylan exclaims.

“Correct, that would leave Mycal in no better a situation than he is currently in. Instead, we will have you share a private room in a less-used section of the academy.” The Director of Divination says.

Sylan thinks that a private room away from everyone else might be even worse. Such a rooming situation would never fly if her roommate was human or even reptilian, so it’s even worse with a Chitin.

The Director Sorcery says, “I know it’s shocking, Ms. Myrkul, but before you refuse it outright, consider that it is your only chance to stay in the school. And if you do learn the qualities of a good student from Mycal, you may yet be able to learn magic from us.”

Sylan stands there in stunned silence. She can’t think of any proper rejection of the idea. Simply refusing to cooperate because Mycal is a Chitin won’t convince anyone of anything. Besides, does she really want to shut down this opportunity? Chitins are supposedly geniuses and hard workers. If the Chitin’s student qualities rubbed off on Sylan even a little bit, she would surely pass her classes and continue on to classes that teach magic.

As the meeting ended, she was told to immediately gather her things and bring them to her new room. She was also told that she would be missing today’s class of arcane principles and her class schedule would be changed to match a class schedule for Mycal.

She heads back to the woman’s dorm to get her things from her room. By now, everyone has heard about how her roommate ran off a month ago. Sylan’s not allowed to practice magic, so she had been secretly practicing it in the graveyard, where she was sure no one would find her. Everyone avoids the graveyard, so she figured she wouldn’t be caught.

Her roommate had lost her key and was looking for Sylan to ask if she could borrow her copy of the key to their room. Sylan still isn’t sure why her roommate decided to look for her in the graveyard, but when she saw Sylan practicing magic in the graveyard, she panicked and ran away. She left the academy and hasn’t returned since.

Sylan isn’t sure why her roommate was so spooked. Sylan had been practicing the art of conjuring light. It was only a basic spell, but without any training, basic was as much as she could do. Producing any effect with magic without any training is a remarkable feat. This is why she was so highly praised in her entrance exam. But even natural talent isn’t enough to cast any spells that do more than create insignificant phenomena.

Sylan gathers her books from her room. They don’t all fit in her satchel, so she bundles them up in a bedsheet, holding the sheet like a sack over her shoulders. Then she makes her way through the woman’s dorm to the unused sections of the building. As she passes more rooms in the woman’s dorm, she hears whispers of people spreading rumors. She’s gathered all of her things. She’s finally been expelled! Or I heard she got a replacement roommate, but no one here seems to know who it could be. If it’s not one of us, is it someone from the men’s dorm?

Sylan uses her new key to unlock the door to her new room. It’s dark here, and there are no windows. Most students illuminate their rooms with a simple light spell. But Sylan is forbidden from using magic and still hasn’t gotten the hang of that spell yet. She’ll have to burn a lamp, but she forgot to bring one from her room, and she doesn’t want to go back for it.

She closes and locks the door behind her and sets her books down on the bed. She notices that there is only one bed, and it’s not a bunk bed either. “This is either a cruel joke, or the Directors really didn’t think this through.” Sylan says. “I’m not sharing a bed with a Chitin. He’ll have to sleep on the floor until we get another bed.”

Her new class schedule is sitting on the desk. Again, only one desk. This room clearly isn’t meant for two people. She can’t read it in the dark. But with no one here, not even Mycal, she figures she can get away with a little light magic. “Lumos, Extrila!” She says as she waves her arms blindly in front of her face while clutching her paper class schedule. She infuses the light into the ink on the page, causing the words to glow a faint green. She still has most of the same classes, but they are at different times and sometimes in different rooms with different professors. To her dismay, she still has mathematics taught by Green Scales, the reptilian professor.

Mycal still hasn’t arrived, and she still needs to put away her things. She can barely make out a closet door in the dark. She’ll need to fill it with outfits. She takes out one of her books, a thick sketchbook that’s entirely blank, except for the first 20 pages. The first 20 pages are filled with intricate drawings of outfits. She looks around for the standing mirror that nearly every room and especially every dorm and class room has. Sure enough, she finds the mirror where most dorms would have a window.

She knows that realization magic is a cousin of light magic and is glad that her first roommate taught her it. It was easy, as well. It just took knowing what to do. Of course, if her first roommate back then had any idea that Sylan wouldn’t ever proceed to magic lessons, then she might have never agreed to teach her this magic. Back then, they figured she was teaching her early what she was already going to learn within her next semester. Sylan wonders if her first roommate regrets teaching her realization magic.

Realization magic is easy, though she would be in trouble if anyone caught her using it. Not because it is dangerous, but just like light magic, it’s magic. Thus, it is forbidden for students to use until they are properly instructed how to use it.

First, she infuses the drawing of the outfit with light magic, “Lumos, Extrila!” Then she holds the book with the glowing drawing with the picture facing the mirror, and commands it to exist, “Contena, Conjura!” A sleek black suit appears standing in front of her, as though held by an invisible coat hanger.

“Ugh, that’s right. I forgot.” Sylan says. The outfit wasn’t supposed to be black, but green like in her picture. But the realization conjures an appearance as is seen in the mirror. Since it’s dark, the outfit is black. She’ll have to light the area first. So she says, “Lumos, Agala!” as she cups her hands together. A ball of light appears in her hands, and floats above her, circling her head after she opens her hands again. She’ll have to dispel the light before she leaves the room.

Before she can retry her realization magic, she hears a thud against the closet door. She instinctively clutches her ball of light, extinguishing it. But now she can’t see anything. She summons the light again and slowly opens the door. Sylan screams as she hears the scurrying of a thousand footsteps and sees the writhing body of the millipede Chitin crawl out of the closet and move across the floor to under the bed.  

Sylan realizes she probably should remove her magical light, but she can’t handle being in darkness with a Chitin. “How long have you been here?” Sylan demands after catching her breath. Click, click, click. “Oh, that’s right.” Sylan can’t understand the Chitin language. She’s going to have a lot of difficulty trying to learn anything from this creature.

Hopefully, Mycal doesn’t tell anyone that she’s been using magic. Though, only a handful of people would be able to understand him. The only person she knows for sure can understand Mycal is Green Scales, her mathematics professor. Mycal makes more clicking noises. Click, click, click.

10/2/21

“Don’t scare me like that again.” Sylan says. Mycal squirms under the glow of her shining ball of light. Mycal’s spindly legs sprawl out from beneath him as he curls in on himself under the bed. Click, click, click. “Stop twisting and squirming. It’s creepy.” Rip, tear, scratch. “Agh! Stop it! That’s the bed sheet. No, don’t touch that. You’re ripping it to shreds!” Sylan can see why Mycal isn’t wanted in the Men’s Dorms. He’s making a mess and ripping the blankets and bed sheets. Sylan finds Mycal’s scrambling to be odd. Why is Mycal acting like this? Chitins are supposedly the best students. The Directors think that Mycal will set a good example for her. So far, she is not impressed. But Mycal never behaved like this while in class, and he had stayed so still when she first entered the room that she hadn’t known he was here. So why is he acting up now?

Sylan picks up her books and is about to leave the room when she remembers her light. She closes her hand around the ball of light, extinguishing it. Then she exits the room, closing the door behind her. The sounds of clicking and scratching stop. Sylan is thinking that it might be better to just accept expulsion rather than try her luck having a Chitin as a roommate.She sits down against the wall and opens her book. “Finally, it’s quiet enough to focus on reading.” She says. Wait, why is it quiet? Did Mycal stop his fit? The door isn’t anywhere near soundproof. She should still hear him. She cracks open the door and peaks inside. Mycal isn’t moving. Has he finally calmed down? Sylan decides to stay outside the door a little longer. She isn’t ready to go in there after the scare Mycal gave her.

She opens her textbook for her class on arcane principles. She prefers arcane principles to all others, but most of the content is boring. However, in the textbook, there are some interesting ideas concerning magic that she likes to think about. There is a section that offers different theories as to why humans are the only creatures to have magic. Even other sentient creatures like reptilians and Chitins don’t have access to magic. She has heard theories that say that the other sentient creatures are not sentient enough to have magic. Though she is skeptical about such a claim. Reptilians and Chitins, despite her dislike of them, certainly seem at least as sentient and sapient as humans. Even though she can’t understand Chitins and doesn't trust reptilians, they are still just as intelligent, if not more so, than humans.

Another theory insists that humans must have an organ that the others are lacking. Though they can’t determine which organ it is. Some say that it is the human’s skin that is the organ that allows magic. This would definitely be the most obvious choice as it is the main feature that differs between humans and the other sentient species, but Sylan can’t see how skin has anything to do with magic.

Her favorite theory and the one she is inclined to believe is the theory that humans have souls and animals don’t. This theory also says that Chitins and reptilians don’t have souls, and thus they are animals. The more interesting part is something that has been lingering in her mind ever since her incident at the graveyard.

Sylan doesn’t know what people think she did in the graveyard. But she remembers that it was quite strange. It was only supposed to be a basic light spell, and she knew she was powerful and gifted when it came to magic. But it took all of her concentration and was incredibly difficult to perform even the most insignificant effects during the entrance exam. She hasn’t had much magical training since then. Sure, she informally learned basic light magic and realization. But it still surprised her when the light she produced was blindingly bright and grandiose. It shouldn’t have been so big and bright. Raw power can make up for lack of skill and training, so she had hoped to break through having no idea how to cast the spell and hopefully learn how to cast it through trial and error. After all, that is surely how mages of old invented new spells, right?

But it was too easy. She simply willed the light to be, and it was. But that’s not how it’s supposed to work. Both before and after that event she has tried willing spells into effect, including that light spell. She hadn’t even managed the first word before the light appeared: “Lu---AHH!” So this makes her wonder. If the theory that humans have magic because of their souls, does this mean that souls are the source of magic? If so, that could explain what happened in the graveyard, a place where many dead people are buried, so their souls have saturated the cemetery.

There is only one problem with this theory. If graveyards are saturated with the power of souls, increasing the magical abilities of those in proximity, why has no one noticed? If graveyards had such power, people would make a big deal about it, right? No one practices their magic in the graveyard, no one utilizes the power of souls in the graves. But why? The only reason she can think of is if graveyards don’t actually have this power. But then how would she explain the burst of light that she created?

Well, she can’t go exploring that anymore or she’ll get expelled. She still has a chance to be taught magic. If she messes this up, as she expects that she will, she can always try to learn magic on her own, and perhaps she would utilize the power of the dead to help her learn how to cast spells.

She reads over the section in her textbook about overexertion and resting. Using too much magic is dangerous and there are warning signs. One of the warning signs is that your ability to cast magic significantly improves to become nearly effortless as you are no longer limited by your magic but are instead using your own lifeforce to power the spell. This is dangerous as effortless casting is the last sign before death. Could this be what happened with her? It’s possible but she is sure that she would not instantly recover from drawing upon her lifeforce and nearly dying. Also, she didn’t notice any of the warning signs that are supposed to come before you reach the point of permanent damage that is sucking away your own lifeforce. She didn’t notice the increasing difficulty in casting spells as she had only just begun to cast the spell and the ease of casting occurred immediately. Another warning sign is fatigue and physical pain. Though at that point, you would be dangerously close to irreparable damage. But her casting of the spell was painful and non-strenuous.