25: Children of War
Mrs Thorburn chuckled. “I love how nothing gets past you, m’love. I remember before you came here, Mr Payne was worried you’d see through the cover we’d put up to deter Godhand and accidentally expose us all! Queen Thetis had to assure him that there were measures in place to protect us.” For a moment she was lost in a daydream, a wry smile of her face. Then she took a gulp of coffee and continued.
“This place was created as a gateway to SEELIE, a mercenary force that works as part of the Seelie Court you’re familiar with. Academies like this teach students the basics about the world and how to survive in it – the stuff that doesn’t get covered in the normal schools because they’d rather kids grow up to be ‘productive’ members of society. It’s not much good being ‘productive’ if society ends up overrun by demons though, is it?”
That much made sense, but also veered close to Wotan’s accusations of the school being a front of military training. No point jumping to conclusions, though.
“So we teach kids how to survive,” continued her tutor, “After they graduate, they can go become productive workers or wander the world as vagrants, or they can join SEELIE as cadets. There they’re trained in a wider variety of subjects, including magic, and are encouraged to focus on their strengths and cover their weaknesses.”
Phantasia narrowed her eyes to slits, which appeared to startle Ms Thorburn. “So, are you teaching them to be soldiers?” When her teacher laughed at the suggestion, she was caught off-guard and annoyed. Mrs Thorburn couldn’t be treating the whole subject as a game like Mr Payne and Wotan, surely?
“No, not at all!” she said, “But we give them that choice. Learning the basics of controlling their chi, or understanding how spells work, or simply how to survive when faced with a Shadow or demon – that’s not teaching them to be soldiers, no more than teaching them martial arts will make them a street fighter.
“It was different for us. We grew up during the Apostle Wars, so we began our education a lot younger than you. Rosencrantz never agreed with Rembrandt that everyone should be taught the truth, though. He believed most people were too irresponsible to make use of even the most basics of magic, and he abhorred SEELIE.”
She took a long drink from her mug, wiped her mouth clean with a handkerchief and blinked away the daydreams. “I digress, though. No, we don’t teach them to be wizards or warriors. Can you imagine some of these kids being soldiers? Lysander? Angelo? Dante? Doyle’s the only one in this class who can hold a weapon, and John’s the only one with the common sense and responsibility to use magic – but, like his father, refuses to acknowledge it exists! But, now Godhand isn’t breathing down our necks, we can at least teach them stuff to help them cope in the world, and maybe unlock some of their latent talents in the process. Besides, some of your fellow students don’t even need our help. Mr Payne already has some of them signed up as junior cadets, which doesn’t normally happen until you enter third year…”
