The Interplanar University, # 2— "One is Silver"

[Short stories. Images generated by hotpot.ai]

As their classes were in different places at different times at the interplanar Havenforth University, and since they were also inundated with new faces and also new species, it was natural for Harry to befriend another wizard from the same planet. Or, more specifically, from Magos, which was called the Auspice of Wizardkind. Cork, as it was quickly apparent, was an American wizard, and somewhat appropriately had a flair for the dramatic, as well as bombast. Harry didn’t like him better than his other friends, but with the Ethos around, along with the Moslem Bloc, the psyker community, technophiles, elementalists, dark wizards, medieval societies, and scads of non-humans, it was nice to connect with someone who understood basic things.

“Ram-headed people, rat people, blue people, monkey people, orks, trolls— although they aren’t like our

trolls, are they?” “Certainly not,” said Harry.

These trolls were some kind of mix between savage and intelligent, and thankfully the mystical protections on school grounds constrained violence, as their weapons were infamously coated in heinous poison. He wasn’t too eager to befriend one.

The class where Harry met Cork was called Interplanar Overlap, where the professor, Venerable Gyrick, professed how humans and species from different worlds had similar characteristics grouped under the same names. At Havenforth, there were two types of teachers: Disciples of the famous gnomish cleric who sacrificed his immortality to establish the god-like College, who were addressed as Venerable. The others were Instructors, addressed as Master (Mr. Or Mz.). The Instructors trained students in specific activities or areas of knowledge, whereas the Disciples covered broad, weighty subjects.

Gyrick pontificated: “… the species denominated as orkish, to the surprise of few, have highly disparate manifestations. The Azeroth Ork is quite unlike the ork of Middle Earth, and indeed, the most prevalent manifestation is as the atypical Brutal Savage, yet cunning and capable of industry. However, the advent of Azeroth’s plane necessitates the refinement of more general characteristics…”

It would be nonsense, except some attending the interplanar College actually were orks, although there were none in the pocket dimension that contained the class.

Afterwards, Cork joined him in a small pocket-dimension cafe for tea, although Cork drank coffee. A pocket-dimension area was simply called a pocket area, and so they were in a pocket cafe. Two others who had currently latched on were Styfe, an elf of unknown origins, and Briggs, who was almost entirely a muggle, but with dim psionic abilities.

“I always thought if you wanted cream and sugar, why did you ask for Coffee?” said Cork. “Briggs knows what I’m talking about.” “Ah— right,” said Briggs, with general awareness that this was one of Cork’s foibles that he used to get people to remember him. “So, do you even wizard, bro? Do either of you wizard? Oops, no, just me and Potter.”

Harry tenuously met the fist-bump that was offered.

“Actually, in my world, all elves have some magic,” said Styfe, “but my specialty is Ether Tracking. I can identify what type of ether someone wields, and I can follow energy signatures of people I’ve met.” “Astonishing,” said Harry with genuine interest. Briggs gathered himself to speak, but Cork overrode him. “Okay. What does Wizard ether look like?” “Well, that’s an interesting subject,” said Styfe, “because Magos has a very intricate schemata of classifications.” “Yeah it does,” said Cork, as though not intending to hear the rest.

Harry’s preference for another wizard was starting to wane, but for the following weeks Cork would take pains to associate himself with Harry, perhaps dreaming of a future where Harry would tell legends of how he met Cork. A legend among legends.

Briggs found the nerve to speak, “I’m not good at a lot of things. But I am bad at a lot of things.”

Styfe and Harry looked in sympathy as Cork barked laughter.

“What I mean to say is,” said Briggs, sweltering, “Is I have nearly every ability a psyker can have. But I’m not good at any of them.” “That sounds like potential,” said Styfe. “You’ve got a lot of promise,” said Harry, “whatever you do, don’t give up.”

Cork ate up a lot of time with his wit and his theatrical view of his place in the conversation. Styfe and Briggs never managed to tell Harry about their interesting backgrounds; Havenforth had limitless potential for discovery, and Cork seemed intent that anyone who met him would remember him above all else. However, his talent at molding public opinion and enthusiasm for wizardkind, along with his sharp tongue, would become impossible to ignore in the following months. *-------------------------------------------*

Think about it: I’m resolved to write 30+ short stories a month, complete with beautiful illustrations. Combined with my unique writing style, innovative ideas, and unlimited creativity, I’m making magic happen in your life. Two comic books cost eight bucks, and it’s the same stuff you’ve been hearing about for at least fifty years. Voluntarily pay me at least five bucks a month, and you’ll know you’re getting your money’s worth. Be a team player, and we’ll all make some magic happen together. Swain and the Rising Dawn Society can’t make it without you, fellas. Donate via Venmo, Paypal, or GoFundMe, and I’ll be all hands on deck. Hell, I could be doing 60 short stories a month if I had some motivation to do so ;)

Here’s the info:

Venmo: David Parker @TheRat2k1

.

GoFundMe: https://gofund.me/439c79b7

Paypal: https://paypal.me/runelordswain?country.x=US&locale.x=en_US