The sound of frantic writing filled the large room.
Two large blackboards stood on wheels in front of Remus, as he furiously wrote out the solution with efficiency.
Behind him, a long table of five old men watched in awe. Their smoking pipes froze before their mouths as they struggled to follow the rapidly forming equation before them.
The heads of the Royal Academy of Magic were skeptical of this young pup at first.
Who wouldn’t be? He looked young enough to be barely a graduate himself!
They gave him a massive test, perhaps unfairly so. But essential.
To be a Professor and representative of this establishment meant being the best of the best.
The young Professor Blake didn’t balk or frown when presented with the task. He simply turned, lifted the chalk, and began writing the formula.
Since then, minutes had passed as the young man continued to write, their eyes following in disbelief.
Even the elegance and clarity of his writing style looked as if he had been doing it for decades.
Finally, reaching the end of the second blackboard, Remus finished his writing. He gently underlined the answer before putting the chalk down. Gently dusting his hands, he turned to the table again and clasped his hands behind his back.
Silence.
The elderly professor at the far end of the table was standing, leaning forward as if better to read the spell equation on the boards.
"Marvellous." He murmured.
The small gentleman in the middle of the table, the Headmaster of the Academy, finally brought his pipe to his mouth.
After exhaling his smoke, he gestured to the empty chair in the middle of the room.
Remus sat back down.
"Professor Blake, I must say, that is a frighteningly comprehensive approach to Gravity magic stabilization. Have you done much with it before?"
"Yes." Remus nodded. "In my time at the University of the Mivilean Kingdom, I had written some papers on efficient use of gravity with magical devices."
"Surely we would have heard or seen this work ourselves in academic circles?" One of the elders questioned.
The young man turned to him. "Normally, yes. But you would agree with me that between neighboring Kingdoms, not everything would be shared. Even between academics."
A few of the old men nodded sagely.
The Headmaster tapped the table in front of him. "Which brings us to the rather large elephant in the room, Professor Blake."
Remus waited.
"You are not from here." The Headmaster stated, not unkindly.
Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, the Headmaster thought.
But the upcoming academic year, a week or so away, had extra significance.
Royal significance.
The prince and princess of the Kingdom would be in attendance. And they were down a Professor. Even if the old fart was a drunk, he was still adequate for the job.
Why did that moron have to walk off a bridge? The Headmaster lamented to himself.
It was quite the shock last week.
Professor Baulins walked home from his favorite tavern one summer night. The old boy was enjoying the time off in style. Poor fellow had overdone it with his cups and walked right off the city bridge, landing in the river.
Killed him instantly.
Which left a much-needed vacancy to be filled. All capable talents were already hired or poached elsewhere.
"Regardless," the Headmaster continued. "You come highly recommended. The Kingdom’s Ambassador for the Mivilean Kingdom has written you quite the glowing letter."
"Yes." Remus smiled. "We met a few times at the University. A good man."
The Headmaster continued to study the young man, returning to his pipe.
"If I may lay some things out, Headmaster?"
The old man nodded.
"While yes, I was raised and taught in the Mivilean Kingdom, I was actually born here." Remus began. "My parents separated when I was three years old. My mother migrated to the Mivilean Kingdom, where she was originally from, bringing me with her. My father remained here with my older brother."
"An unusual separation, splitting the children." Another elder pointed out.
"I agree. While I was too young to have any say in the matter, my brother, a year or so older, opted to stay here with my father." Remus paused, looking past them. "Apparently he wanted to be a Knight, just like him."
"I knew your brother." Another commented with sympathy. "He was a good man, and an excellent Knight."
"Thank you," Remus said quietly, his gaze coming back into focus on the men before him.
"To reassure you, I had no say in where I was raised. It was not a kind time in Mivilean, at least, in the beginning. I was still an outsider there as well."
He had the elders’ full attention. They could hear the conviction in his voice.
But he wasn’t talking about Mivilean.
"I had to fight for acceptance. To be acknowledged without scrutiny."
Remus turned slightly to look at the Headmaster.
"And would do so again. I am, and have always been, a patriot of this Kingdom."
The Headmaster held his gaze. Perhaps for a few more moments than would be considered polite.
But the old man eventually nodded in satisfaction, liking whatever he saw.
"I think this could work." The Headmaster stated, looking to his peers. "Any objections so far?"
The elders all shook their ancient heads.
"Forgive me, Professor Blake," the elder at the other end of the table spoke up.
"It says here, you are a Fifth Grade mage?"
"That is correct," Remus answered, looking to him.
"Forgive me, I don’t doubt your word. But to reach the Fifth Grade at one so young. Why, that is beyond prodigy level if I do say so."
The slight skepticism returned behind some of the old men’s eyes at the table.
"Would you object, for peace of mind, to a small demonstration?" The elder asked.
"Of course not." Remus smiled agreeably, standing again.
There were ten grades of magic, at least known in the Garden, the mortal realm of the world.
It was understandable at their disbelief. Reaching the Fifth Grade at the age of 22 was incredible, but not unheard of among rare prodigies.
As Remus asked them what they would like to see a demonstration of, he mentally prepared to restrict his power to the Fifth Grade.
A restriction was necessary, as he was much stronger than the Fifth Grade.