Hermes organized his thoughts while walking behind the old woman. She moved far too quickly for someone of her age, robes fluttering with sharp impatience.
Did I really transmigrate into Shadow Slave?
No. That was ridiculous.
Then again… everything felt too coherent to be a hallucination.
But I did take magic mushrooms. They're called magic for a reason.
Still.
It does seem pretty real. Even if it's not I will proceed as if it is. Though I would have much preferred to transmigrate into Hogwarts rather than this poor imitation of it.
To end this scenario, I probably have to defeat the beasts.
A faint grin tugged at his lips.
Hehe. Let's see my status.
Pale runes shimmered into existence before his eyes.
—
Name: Hermes
True Name: —
Rank: Aspirant
Soul Core: Dormant
Memories: —
Echoes: —
Attributes: [Oculus Sapientiae], [Ars Scriptoria], [Ars Homuncularis]
Attributes Description:
Oculus Sapientiae — You have eyes. They work better than most. Do try not to stare.
Ars Scriptoria — You have been given a pen. What you write with it is your problem.
Ars Homuncularis — You may now play god with your little creations. This will end well.
Aspect: [Novice Alchemist]
Aspect Description:
[A Novice Alchemist believes he can improve upon creation itself. He is wrong. He has always been wrong. Every alchemist before him was wrong. This one will be no different.]
—
Notes:
Oculus Sapientiae means Eye of Wisdom.
Ars Scriptoria means Art of Inscription.
Ars Homuncularis means Art of Homunculi.
—
Hermes stared at the runes.
"Well… that's not very helpful is it?" he muttered softly to himself.
Oculus Sapientiae.
The irony was almost funny. The Nightmare Spell had written the most useless description imaginable, and yet here he was, understanding exactly what the attribute did anyway — because Oculus Sapientiae itself was the reason he could. From what he could discern, it allowed him to see properties of things? That would be the best way to describe it. He should be able to see and understand true names and the attributes of others as well for now, that is, cutting straight through whatever cryptic nonsense the Spell decided to write. Memories and echoes too, he could see what their enchantments and attributes did. He glanced at the old woman's back as she marched ahead of him.
She was mundane. No attributes. No aspect.
Was she pretending to be a seer?
Ars Scriptoria.
Now that was interesting.
He could craft memories and echoes through runecraft. In game terms that made him something between a blacksmith and a summoner — except instead of random pulls he was building his summons from scratch. The implications were staggering. If he had really transmigrated, he was set for life on that alone — money, power, influence. Memories and echoes were currency in this world.
But short term goals later.
The real value was in combat. He could field multiple echoes simultaneously. Spam them if necessary. And it didn't stop there — if Ars Scriptoria was what he thought it was, runic sorcery should fall within his reach as well.
Not in theory. He was certain of it.
Ars Homuncularis.
Hermes frowned at the runes for a long moment.
Mostly useless without Ars Scriptoria. But paired with it? He could give his creations souls. Let them grow the way dreamers grew — accumulating strength, developing over time, advancing the ranks with him. Sentient echoes. Echoes that thought and learned and fought alongside him.
In theory he could make a sentient magic sword that talked back to you.
An army of sentient echoes.
That was… exhilarating.
The Nightmare Spell had told him he could play god with his little creations and that it would end well — in the specific tone of something that believed the opposite entirely. He was beginning to suspect the Spell had a personal grievance with him.
He was so absorbed in thought that he nearly walked into the old woman as she stopped before a heavy oak door.
"The headmaster's office," she said quietly.
She knocked.
"You may enter," came a calm voice from within.
The door opened.
"Headmaster Roland! I present to you a true seer! Eight hundred years after my great ancestor Rory's death, Chaldera has another! And I was the one who discovered him!"
Hermes blinked.
Seer? When did we agree on that? Wait, I can use this.
Behind a broad desk sat a tall, sharp-featured man with icy blue eyes and a gaze that seemed to glimpse your very soul.
"Calm yourself, Miss Abano," he said evenly. "Your claim will be evaluated."
"He had a vision! I verified it myself. The seer blood in me resonated with him. Tell him what you saw!"
The headmaster's gaze settled on Hermes.
Hermes exhaled.
"I saw a ruined castle," he began. "Monsters and limbless people marching backward into its gates."
The room grew still.
"They reenacted a massacre in reverse. Limbs reattached to their owners. Blood returned to veins. Spells unraveled back into the hands that cast them."
Miss Abano's breathing grew shallow.
"It was as though time flowed backward. The castle repaired itself stone by stone. The monsters descended the hill in reverse and formed ranks at the base."
He paused briefly.
"A thin skeletal man stood at their front. Arms raised. Mouth open as if shouting."
The air felt heavier now.
"At the edge of my sight, gray fog crept forward. It swallowed everything."
He swallowed.
"Through the fog, I saw the sun rise and set three times."
Silence lingered.
Headmaster Roland leaned back slowly.
"I do not believe the boy is lying," he said at last. "But that does not make him a seer."
Miss Abano stiffened.
"The gray fog surrounding Chaldera," Roland continued, "is an ancient concealment spell cast by the founder nearly three thousand years ago. None may find this castle without acceptance. It has endured unbroken since its creation."
His gaze returned to Hermes.
"I find it unlikely that young Mr. Gaemond has foreseen its collapse."
Hermes twitched.
Mr. Gaemond?
Spell, we need to discuss this name.
"But he still had a vision!" Miss Abano snapped. "Roland, you simply refuse to admit it because you do not wish to raise my pay!"
Roland sighed faintly.
"If the boy experiences another verifiable vision, and we both confirm his ability, I will double your salary."
Miss Abano crossed her arms.
"You think visions are that easy to come by?"
"This matter is concluded," Roland said calmly. "If another vision occurs, we will revisit the discussion. You are dismissed."
Outside the office, Miss Abano fumed.
"They will see. We will prove them wrong. Boy, if you have another vision, you come to me immediately. Understood?"
Hermes nodded.
Unlikely.
None of his attributes suggested prophecy.
Sorry, Professor. I doubt you're getting that promotion.
"Come," she said briskly. "It is nearly dinner."
Hermes followed her down the corridor.
What a profoundly confusing first day.