Firebomb v.1

Professor Adderthorne was one of the more paranoid of the Academy professors.  All professors had, to some degree, a healthy amount of nervousness associated with their job.  It came from teaching adolescents ‘mancy and the fact that competition for the next big ‘mancy breakthrough was very, very fierce among the professors.  It wasn't unheard of to have an office broken into and ransacked.  Sometimes the students were the ones hired to do it.  That led to a good dose of nice, healthy, paranoia.  After all, someone might very well be out to get you, or at the very least, blow up your lab.  But Adderthorne had a bit more of a problem than most professors.

He taught pyromancy.

He equipped young adolescents with the ability to channel and use fire in destructive ways.

And he had one student this year that was making him downright terrified.

The students were in their fifth year and the current class was on creating a lasting ‘mancy involving fire that did not spiral out of control.  Most ‘mancys could be bound to a circle and left but fire… that was a different story.  Fire had a tendency to get out of control.  Sure, there were other ‘mancys that would escape the bounds of the circle but the conditions had to be right.  For a bound aeromancy circle to get out of control there had to be an incoming storm or the like.  A simple breeze wasn't going to do it.

And well, unfortunately, all fire needed to get out of control was fuel and oxygen.  There was usually plenty of that around.
Adderthorne sat at his desk; nervously fiddling with a piece of tinder he had in his hand.
The students were being very careful, tracing their circles, keeping an eye on the nearby flammables that could cause the ‘mancy to leap its bounds, so to speak.  They were doing everything right.  Then there was that pair at the back of the room…

"Slow down," Langley snapped, checking the textbook, "This isn't a race."

"But I've got it all worked out!  It'll work.  Just let me activate the ‘mancy and-"

He had the matches out already.  Langley glanced up and just glared at him, still holding the textbook open.  Their circle was drawn but it was much smaller in size than their classmates and lacked quite a few of the warding phrases the others had.  Sabreur had drawn it while Langley was still looking things up.  She was ready to erase the thing and start over.

"It won't hold," Langley said calmly, "And I notice that our professor has so kindly left out flammables – like that beaker there – for the sole purpose of seeing whose circles don't hold.  Don't forget that this textbook is expensive and we can't have it replaced – again."

"But…"

Langley sighed.  Folded the textbook and stepped back and away from the table.  Put her hand in her pocket and found a piece of tinder she'd been saving.

"Alright.  Fine.  Try it."

"Finally!"

And Sabreur struck a match, the professor stood up in anticipation, and Langley only sighed when the fire that erupted in the middle of the ‘mancy circle sent a spark outside of the drawn lines and the entire thing fell apart.  The fire hit the beaker first, which exploded and sent half the class diving for cover under the table.  Then the circle just melted away, no longer useful, and the contained ‘mancy leapt out and covered the entirety of the lab table in a two-foot high blaze.

"Told ya," Langley muttered and waited while the professor ran across the room, shouting some words that allowed him to take control of the flame and bring it back within safe bounds before finally extinguishing it.

Sabreur was standing there with a bemused look on his face and his hands still on his matchbook.

"So once a ‘mancy escapes its circle it does so with the same force as which was contained within the circle," he murmured, "Hey.  I've got an idea."

Professor Adderthorne glared at the two, breathing heavily.  He was starting to develop a slight twitch whenever he heard this particular student utter those words.

"No," he said, "No you do not have an idea.  You are not continuing with pyromancy.  Out!"

Enough was enough.  Adderthorne had plenty to worry about already.

"But…"

"OUT!"

He pointed at the door, his finger trembling with suppressed rage.  Two months of suppressed rage.  The boy still insisted on using matches, even..!

"But nothing was hurt…" Sabreur protested.

"OUT!"

For a moment the student stood there, lips twisted as he considered his alternatives, then he heaved a sigh and shoved the matchbook back in his pocket.  Turned and started to leave with slumped shoulders.  For a moment Adderthorne felt a wave of relief wash through him.

"Well, if you throw him out of the classroom you gotta throw me out too," a female voice said from behind him, "It's the principle of the thing.  Stormrider and twin honor and all.  And I ain't going easy."

Two hours later Professor Adderthorne found himself in the Dean's office, sulking.  He'd been offered some brandy but he'd refused.  The Dean could take his sympathy and shove it where the sun don't shine for all he cared.

"She shot the door off the hinges when I finally got her out of the classroom," he whined, "and then walked off, as calm as you'd please.  So now I've got to replace the door.  Whose budget is that coming out of?  Ours or the Office of Student Damage?"

"Don't worry about the door right now," the Dean replied.  His voice was meant to be soothing.  It wasn't helping.  "I'm more concerned about the twins you threw out of your class."

"They aren't coming back," Adderthorne growled.

"Now, Herric, I know you're upset…"

"He uses matches!  For every ‘mancy, he uses matches!"

There was silence in the office for a moment.  The Dean of Pyromancy just nodded and then gave one, very short and terse order.

"Empty your pockets, Herric."

The professor reluctantly complied.  Some basic ‘mancy components that could be used with just about any school of ‘mancy.  Then tinder, some flint, and lastly – a box of matches.  Half-used.

"See, there you go," the Dean said, "You and I both know that there's nothing wrong with using matches as a component… I've got a book in my own pocket as well."

"They're destructive!"

"All Academy students are."

"These are worse!"

"These are Stormriders."  The Dean took a deep breath.  "Look, first off, we get generous contributions each year from the Stormrider family as a bribe of sorts for tolerating their children.  These two come from Pinnacle and that's a very busy and rich harbor.  They won't be happy about this, especially since the two come from the dominant branch there.  See what I'm saying?"

"I'm not getting my classroom blown up over politics," Adderthorne muttered.

"I'm not saying you have to let your classroom get blown up," the Dean replied gently, "I'm just saying you need to take this Sabreur under your wing for a bit.  Get some more control over him.  Enlist his sister to help.  She seems like a loyal sort."

"I'm not following."

"Extra lessons, Adderthorne.  Teach him to use matches properly."

"I'm not-"

"Do it.  We don't want to lose Pinnacle's money and we don't want a pyromancy-happy Stormrider running around campus teaching himself how to blow things up.  So you teach him how to blow things up – properly.  Or I find someone else to."

The last was a threat.  Adderthorne gulped hard and felt sweat start to trickle down the back of his neck.  This would be bad.


Four hours later, Sabreur found himself in Professor Adderthorne's office, extremely confused.  Adderthorne seemed to have been drinking as well for there was an empty shot glass nearby and the smell of whiskey.  But the professor's eyes were as sharp as Sabreur had ever seen them.  He'd walked out of the classroom quietly, hadn't he?  Wasn't Langley the one who had caused the most damage?  Why wasn't she getting in trouble?

"I have done some thinking over the matter of throwing you out of my class," Adderthorne said stiffly, "and I believe the decision may have been made a bit… hastily."

"I can keep learning pyromancy?" Sabreur asked, about to fall out of his chair in excitement.

"Yeeees – but there's a catch."

Now the student was eyeing him suspiciously.

"First, you put the matches away until you learn to use the usual components competently.  I'll say when you can bring them out again."

"But the matches-"

"Allow for the most power behind the ‘mancy, I know.  But you need to learn control first.  That leads me to the second condition… extra lessons."

Normal students would be upset at the prospect of more work.  But Sabreur just accepted this with a contemplative nod.

"More lessons about pyromancy… I can do that," he said.

"Alright.  I want you at my office every night for the next two weeks at 7 pm sharp for remedial lessons," Adderthorne said.  There.  It was done.

"Wait.  Remedial?"

And Adderthorne grinned.  The Dean had said that he had to teach the Stormrider to use his pyromancy properly.  And oh, he would.  Starting with Sabreur's weakest point.

"Yes, Sabreur.  Remedial lessons on pyromancy safety.  I felt you were lagging behi
nd on that aspect of the class.  It'll be part of the final as well."

"Oh, well, that's not… so bad, I guess," Sabreur said, "Um, can I ask something though?"

"Yes?"

"These remedial lessons… are they going to be about containing pyromancy then?  Keeping it from getting out of control?"

This seemed to be going smoother than he expected.  Adderthorne nodded.

"Yes, containment will be emphasized for your remedial safety lessons," he affirmed.

"Excellent!  Because I realized that if I want to make my prototype Firebomb v.1 then I need to really improve on the containment of pyromancy within an enclosed space.  This is fantastic professor!  Thank you so much!"

And the Stormrider leapt up, grabbed Adderthorne's hand and wrung it in a handshake, and made for the door.

"Wait until I tell Langley!" he said and was off down the hallway.

Firebomb?  Adderthorne felt the paranoia return and gingerly reached for the bottle of whiskey to pour himself another shot.  Sometimes, it felt like he just couldn't win…

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