The Sixth School

Author's note.

1). Feedback from my readers is my fuel to keep writing. If you enjoy my work, please take the time to let me know in the comments. It does wonders for my motivation to write.

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All Characters in the story are 18 years of age and above...

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Chapter Nineteen; First Class...

Greg tried to maintain a calm air as he walked into the infirmary. Though he wasn't going to be learning any magic today, he couldn't help but feel like he was taking the first step on that journey. A thought that left Greg filled with no small amount of excitement. Unlike most places back on earth that opened at eight in the morning, people in this town started operating their various enterprises at the first light of dawn, or approximately six in the morning. As such, despite the fact that, by Greg's estimation, it was only seven in the morning, he knew he wasn't too early. On the previous four days, Greg would have already walked out of the town through the main road and moved in the direction of the three-tusk boar territory. Today, however, Greg had no plan to set one foot out of the town. Whatever it is his uncle had planned for him was now no longer his problem as far as Greg was concerned.

While Greg vaguely knew the layout of the infirmary, he had no idea what the morning schedule for the healer looked like, as such, he wasn't certain in which room he would find her. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to search at all. He'd barely walked into the buildings when a door opened on one end of the hall and Shalia poked her head out. "Over here," Was all that the girl called out before disappearing back into the room where she had been in. Though it was the town head's daughter that had called out to him, Greg was certain that the healer was the one that must have magically sensed his approach. That's why there was no surprise on Greg's face as he moved toward the particular room he'd been summoned to.

Greg walked into the room to find the healer seated behind a table that had intricate-looking marks and designs on it. Greg was almost certain that he was looking at a magical sigil of some kind. He, however, had no way of making heads or tails of what he was looking at. He, thus, didn't try. In the room, there were also two other tables. But from what Greg could see, they were both just mundane tables, no different from the ones back at his home. Each one was placed against opposite walls leaving a wide space in between. Shalia was currently standing behind the table closest to the door that Greg had just walked in through. Which could only mean that the empty table against the other wall was his station. Without a word, Greg first walked to that table before turning toward the healer that had been observing him from the table behind which she was seated.

"Good morning teacher," he politely saluted with a bow.

Greg couldn't help but notice that Shalia, who'd been busying herself with the herbs on her table, sharply looked up at him and then at the healer at his words. "Wait, he is the new student that you told me about?" She asked. Greg didn't miss the disappointed and unwilling note that was in the girl's voice as she asked this. It's shocking to consider that this same girl that was playing with his dick when she thought he was asleep, was now acting as if the two of them learning from the same teacher was an affront to her. Greg, however, wasn't bothered in the least. As far as he was concerned, she might as well have been a weed growing out of the wall. He hadn't come here in pursuit of her. His interest lay solely with the healer before him.

Like him, the healer completely ignored the girl and looked in his direction. There was a while of silence in which the healer just looked him over from head to toe. The air about the woman had completely changed. There was no longer the warmth of a healer caring for a patient. Instead, her gaze was that of a drill instructor that had been brought a fresh recruit and they were trying to decide if the recruit was even worth the bother. Greg had started to grow nervous by the time she finally decided to speak. "First, take off the mask," She said calmly, completely ignoring his greetings.

Knowing that he was going to be dealing with a seventh-tier mage, Greg hadn't dared to wear the mask that he'd gotten from the system. It wasn't just his mask, all the other title items, along with the magical items that he'd bought from the system were gone. Even if Greg could somehow come up with an excuse for where they had come from, he wasn't anywhere near brave or stupid enough to try and use it on a seventh-tier mage. Whatever was going on with the healer, she was still a lethal threat so Greg hadn't been willing to tempt fate. In her eyes, he was probably little more than an ant. If he'd worn them and she found out what they were meant to do, he dreaded to imagine what she would do to him. As such, Greg had put everything away in the storage ring, before giving the ring to Olivia. Apparently, wherever it is she went when she disappeared into his glabella, didn't prevent her from bringing along items with her.

Greg showed some hesitation even as he reached up for his mask. He hadn't suddenly become self-conscious about his disfigurement. Instead, it was a matter of consistency. When Greg left the infirmary, he'd been acting like the disfigurement was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. If he suddenly acted like he didn't care in the least, it would raise questions in the healer's mind. Still, he didn't delay long. Clenching his jaws and putting up a stoic expression, Greg pulled off the mask to reveal his disfigured face. Before Greg could place the mask on the table before him, it flew out of his hands and came to float before the healer. With barely any sound, it settled down on a corner of her table. The healer waved a hand and Greg noticed a change in the corner of his eyes. When he turned to look, he found a reflection of himself looking back at him. A square section of the wall had turned into a mirror and was currently reflecting his disfigured face.

"One of him is already hard enough to look at," Shalia muttered under her breath. In the quiet room, however, both Greg and the healer heard what she'd just said. The snarky and bitchy side of the girl revealed itself in all its glory. This was the reason Greg had pretended to be asleep when she visited his room. The former Roka might have been blind to the true nature of this girl owing to the crush he had on her. Greg, however, wasn't in any way deluded about what kind of person she was. Being the daughter of the town head and one of the most beautiful girls in the whole town had made her into a spoiled princess with a swelled head. Greg had no desire to pursue her or further inflate that ego of hers. So long as they could stay out of each other's way, Greg would be happy.

Once again, neither one of the two reacted to what the girl had said. The healer kept her gaze locked on Greg as she continued. "From now on, whenever you come to learn, you will take off your mask and leave it on my desk," She instructed. "Your motivation to learn the art of potion-making stemmed from what happened to you," She reminded him. "I don't want you to ever forget that feeling you had the first time you looked at yourself in the mirror," She stated before ominously adding. "You will need it." There was a pause as she allowed the words to sink in. "As Shalia will tell you, there is nothing I take more seriously than the subject of magic and all the things that come along with it, including the field of potion-making," She declared. "If you wish to learn from me, you better prepare to be pushed to the very limit of what you can do," She warned. "I'll expect you to put everything you can and more into learning," She relayed. "Which is why I must ask, I gave you up to two weeks to settle everything you need to at home and in your mind. You've only been away for four days. Why come back so soon?" She asked. Even though she was being stern, Greg could tell that she genuinely cared about him.

"My house is well cared for," Greg answered without any arrogance. I'm yet to put my mind back together completely," Greg said revealing some vulnerability. After discussing with Olivia, she had advised him that some measure of vulnerability will go a long way in making the healer agree to start training him. If he was a complete wreck, the healer would send him back to deal with his emotions. On the other hand, if he acted like he was completely okay after just losing his father, the healer would probably think that he was bottling up his emotions, and would still ask him to go back and deal with them. Greg needed to show that he was struggling a bit but was still willing to forge ahead despite it. "Nevertheless, I don't think sitting around and doing nothing the whole day will help solve anything," He went on. "So here I am," He said. "All that I ask is for you to allow me not to be here the day after tomorrow as I will be holding a ceremony to give my father an honorable send-off," he added.

The healer regarded him for a while, almost as if she was trying to decide if he was ready or not. In the end, she just calmly nodded in agreement. "Okay then," The healer spoke up. "The rules of this place are simple," She declared. "You do what I say, when I say it, in the exact way that I say to do it! Do you understand?" She asked authoritatively.

Greg nodded.

"You will be here every day before the face of the sun fully leaves the horizon. And, unless the sun touches the other horizon or I personally release you, you are not done for the day. Do you understand?" She continued to question.

Once again, Greg nodded.

"Abide by these two simple rules and we'll get along perfectly fine," She declared. "Any questions?" she posed.

A hand unconsciously rose to scratch the back of Greg's head even as he blushed lightly. "Just one?" Greg confirmed. Noting the light blush on Greg's face, there was a slight look of interest in the healer's expression as she nodded for him to ask. "What is your name?" Greg asked. He couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed not only because of all that they'd done together but that he'd even managed to ask her to become his teacher and yet he still didn't know her name.

The curiosity on the healer's face morphed into full-on amusement even as a smile spread on her lips. "Tell you what, if you work hard in learning potion-making and manage to impress me, I'll tell you my name," She offered. "Until then, you can just refer to me as teacher or healer, as is convenient for you," She offered. Greg could only nod in agreement. "Anything else?" The healer asked.

Offering a small wry smile, Greg answered. "No, Teacher."

"Good," The healer spoke up. "Now, do you know how to read?" She asked.

Given the fact that he was here to learn about potion-making, Greg hadn't been expecting a question about his literacy. Still, he took it in stride and was about to answer in the affirmative. It was only at the very last moment, however, that Greg caught himself and shook his head. "No, I can't," He stated. He was someone born in the remote mountains where hunting and survival were all that the people here were concerned with. If he had answered yes, he would have had a very hard time explaining how it is he'd come to be literate.

There was no surprise in the healer's expression when Greg answered in the negative. "For the next three months, I will teach you how to read and write," She declared, much to Greg's surprise.

Before Greg could say anything, however, it was Shalia who spoke up first. "What?" an exclamation of shock and disbelief left the girl. "I've been working under you for many seasons now and you haven't taught me anything about reading and writing," She declared, both her tone and expression showing that she found this to be completely unfair.

For the first time since Greg walked into the room, the healer turned to regard Shalia. On her face was a look of complete indifference. It was almost like she considered the girl nothing more than a bother that she had learned to put up with. "You never wanted to be here in the first place," The healer stated calmly. "Which is fine because I never wanted you here, to begin with," She went on to say candidly. "Your father, however, repeatedly urged me to take you on as my apprentice, and out of respect for him, I did," She revealed. "You are diligent in your work, which is the only reason I have suffered your presence for so long. But both you and I know that to this day, you've never really come to like this work," The healer outlined in a flat tone of voice. Greg could see it in Shalia's expression that she wanted to raise some objection to what the healer was saying. She, however, was powerless to do so as the healer had spoken nothing but the truth.

"Out of respect for your father, I will teach you all the herbal remedies you need to know in order to be a competent healer Shalia," The healer continued in the same calm tone. "What I won't do, however, is waste my time and efforts on someone that doesn't know or appreciate the value of what I have to offer," The healer's voice became significantly colder as she said this. When the girl remained silent and offered no rebuttal, the ice seeped from both the healer's gaze and voice. "A tonic to cure lightheadedness, nausea, and light fever," She stated, her voice once again calm. "The ingredients are in the storeroom. I need twenty vials by the end of the day," She instructed. Despite not being able to retort, the town head's daughter didn't shy away from making her displeasure known by glaring at the healer for a full ten seconds before turning around and stomping her way out of the room.

Unperturbed by the girl's passive-aggressive tantrum, the healer turned back in Greg's direction. "The human tongue, Elfish, Orcish, Dwarven, Gnomish, and Draconic," With each word that she called out, a glowing string of characters would appear in the air. Greg could only assume that this was the written form of what she'd just said. For whatever reason, however, he couldn't read the words. Whenever Greg saw the strange characters that made up the language of the system, despite never having seen them before, he could always read them. The same, however, wasn't true of the words he was looking at. To him, they just appeared as a strange grouping of symbols in the air. Part of him wanted to ask Olivia why this was so. He, however, didn't want to zone out during his very first lesson with the healer. As such, he filed it away as a question to ask after class.

By the time she was done, the six words were floating in the air between the two of them. "There are thousands of different languages across the various races," the healer stated. "And if one were to include all the planes that are out there, that number grows exponentially," She went on. "However, in this world, each of the races has a tongue that is usually spoken by most of the members of that race," She explained. "For the sake of convenience and ease of memory, these languages simply came to be known by the race they are associated with, as I've listed out," She informed him.

"However, if you took the time to study these six common tongues, you'll find that they share a base structure that is common across all six languages," the healer stated before waving a hand before her. The image of a tree with six branches formed between them. Each of the six branches was aligned with one of the languages. Another string of strange text appeared on the trunk of the tree that was holding up the six languages. "The origin tongue, it's called," The healer explained. "If you study and understand the origin tongue, with a few nuances here and there and a few adjustments for dialect, you will be able to quickly learn all the six common languages," She informed him. "However, even deeper than the origin tongue, there is another layer."

Greg watched as, from the image of the trunk holding up the six branches, thick roots appeared that seemed capable of holding up the tree regardless of what storms came along. "The arcane tongue," She relayed. "There is a lot of debate about this, but the majority of those in mage circles believe that the arcane tongue used in spells, rituals, and the like is what came before the origin tongue," The healer stated. "Whether that is true or not, is of no interest to us at the moment. To be a competent potion-maker, you will have to be acquainted with the language to a certain degree and that is all that matters," She stated. "Now, in order of most important to least, I'll be teaching you three languages," She informed him.

"Most of your life will be spent with and among humans as, except for a few continents, most are dominated by humans. That's why, I'll put most emphasis on teaching you how to read and write in the human tongue. It'll be our sole focus for the next three months," She explained. "When you are reasonably competent in the human tongue, I will introduce you to the origin tongue," She went on to say. "That way, should you ever find yourself interacting with the other races, you'll still be able to maintain some level of understanding and ability to interact with them," She explained. "With the arcane language, I will only teach you what you need to know to gain a deeper understanding of potion-making. Unless you find a way to become a mage, you don't need to concern yourself with the rest," She stated. Greg was so tempted to interject here and make it known that he did indeed wish to become a mage. It took everything within him to remind him that he needed to be patient. If he spoke too soon, there is a chance that he'd give the game away, making it clear to the healer that it wasn't potion-making that he was really interested in.

Greg watched as the healer waved her hand and the image of the tree and the words associated with it vanished. In its place, a seven-by-seven square grid of characters appeared. "Now, let's begin," the healer instructed.

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Greg could feel his head throbbing even as he walked out of the room he'd been studying in for most of the day. This wasn't because what he had been taught was all that complicated. Instead, it was because of being made to repeat the same thing for almost nine hours straight. He hadn't even been allowed to write anything, all he'd been doing was memorizing the look of each character, what it was called, and what sound it made. Greg would never have guessed that his first lesson with the healer would involve learning the alphabet. It wasn't that bad, all things considered. But, at the same time, was nowhere near as exciting as what he'd been expecting when he first came to the infirmary in the morning. As someone born and raised in the twenty-first century, however, Greg didn't need to be sold on the value of being literate. As such, despite the unexpected start, he wasn't in any way opposed to learning.

Greg found himself thanking his lucky stars that the human tongue was an alphabetic language much like English back on earth as opposed to one that employed symbols like Chinese. He could only imagine how much harder it would be to learn if he had to remember all kinds of symbols. Unlike the English language he knew, however, the human tongue didn't just have twenty-six characters in its alphabet. Instead, the alphabet for the human tongue was comprised of forty-nine characters, which was the grid that the healer had manifested in the air at the start of their lesson.

'Why can I read the text from the system just fine but not when the healer projects it?' Greg mentally asked the question that had been bothering him since the start of the class that morning.