Anyone else out here reading Practical Guide to Sorcery? Anyone? Bueller?

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Anyone else out here reading Practical Guide to Sorcery? Anyone? Bueller?

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practical guide to sorcery spoilers below the cut
if lacer has a crush on the raven queen đđđ RIP
Practical Guide to Sorcery fanfiction! I know, this is a weird place to upload for such a teeny tiny fandom. I refuse to upload this to AO3 for various reasons, among them that this is a scene that *could happen*, and with this fandom in particular, I just feel kinda weird about uploading this kind of fic before it becomes either blatantly impossible or happens in the book. But I also want to post it somewhere because it's fun. So I'm posting it here.
Reveal scene for Lacer that takes place in some nebulous time in/after Book 5 assuming that a particular thing didn't happen! I'm sure you know the one!
Fic below the cut. :)
--
Thaddeusâs eyes traced over the page again. There were no additional sketches, but there it was, written out plain, along with a description of intent that was ingenious and filled him with dread.
Perfect! This will keep those fools in town from pestering me with blame and favor every time I need to collect some small thing or another. Lucky that I didnât bury the body in the dirt as Iâd consideredâthis use is much better attributed to it. Iâll disguise myself with it!
Better that it look as unlike me as possible. Away with the dark hair, then. Make the skin even palerâand the hair, so blonde as to be platinum. Not one person on the street could scarcely do a double take when they see me, like with glamors or illusion. This will be a full transformation, immune to the pitfalls of such tricks.Â
Then, farther down the page:
Shame about the eyes. Every time I try to control the color, the transformation wonât take; the eyes are the link for the full of it. If I truly want my eyes to be some color other than my own, Iâll need to cast the very type of illusion Iâm hoping to avoid! Well, so be it. The color is common enough.
ThisâMyrddinâs false body that he had been tinkering withâdidnât look like Sebastien. It was Sebastien. Thaddeus had thought the body based on someone, and maybe that person had been sampled by someone and... createdâbut with that change, Myrddin had, seemingly naturally, exactly created Sebastien himself. Except for the eyes, which were the âlinkâ.
He saw them again, in a flash: Sebastienâs black eyes, unusual for his ethnicity. Then Siobhanâs.
As they continued through the book, Myrddin contained the transformation within an amulet. Then he detailed his successes with what he called his âavatarâ, and the joys of going about life unrecognized. He explained that the transformation was too perfectly anchored, letting through scars and patterns of age when he would rather it didnât, but trying to force the disconnections of these âlinksââlike the eyesâmade his body ârejectâ the transformation.
Then Myrddin mentioned, offhandedly, later in-between some other topic of thought, that he would keep the amulet within his journals for safekeeping when he wasnât using it. Better to keep others from being able to utilize his avatar.
When Siobhan begged off due to exhaustion, she was as imperious as ever. Thaddeusâacting on instinctâoffered a drink, again, in his place. She smiled sweetly and declined, and he returned to his cottage alone.
There was a trick to walking the line between thinking and not thinking. Thaddeus had learned how to sleep on that line; how to sprint and leap on it. He had needed to. Sometimes, howeverârarelyâvery, very rarelyâthat acted against him. He had become, occasionally, extremely rarely, gullible. Or, rather, prey to his own blindnesses. If there was something painful, after all, something not good, then he had learned how to avoid it without even letting himself realize that heâd avoided it.
He does, eventually, overcome it; his curiosity was a furious hunger, after all. He couldnât stop thinking about Myrddinâs âavatarâ, the body heâd made thousands of years ago. Could someone have sampled that? Had Myrddin died in it, leaving behind a false body to be misidentified? That could be why heâd disappeared. But was it possible that blood from that body would have created the body, rather than Myrddin himself, given the substance of the âlinksâ between them? Thaddeus had examined that page as closely as he could, but he would need to examine it for hours longer before he would understand a glimpse of the process at work.
But there was something else. A different connection. He stared out his window, into the darkness, not drinking from his coffee, because he knew he wouldnât be able to rest until he found what bothered him.
Everything except the eyes. The avatarâs amulet was kept in one of the journals...
Siobhan had stolen one of the journals. If the amulet had been inside, she could have used it.
The mug almost slipped from his fingers. He caught it, but scalding liquid splashed everywhere. He hardly noticed the pain; he placed the mug on the table anyway and flicked a cleaning spell at the waste. Then he sank into one of the kitchen chairs.
âDonât dismiss the thought because you donât like it. Examine it. Look for evidence, without bias.â
The first thought was easy: Sebastien and the Raven Queen had been in the same place, at the same time. The break event. That had been substantiated by, not including Sebastien himself, who would in this case naturally lie... nothing. The Raven Queen couldnât be divined, and neither could Sebastien after she had...
Assuming Sebastienâs version of those events couldnât be trusted, there was no evidence to suggest that the Raven Queen had cast the spell on him. Certainly not the way heâd said sheâd done it, which had always sounded impossible to Thaddeus, which had made him intensely curious about the Raven Queen. Heâd believed Sebastien out of hand. What reason would the boy have to lie?
Thaddeus interlinked his fingers. His elbows heavy on the kitchen table.
She carried the device Sebastien had designed. When she had freed prisoners from the Pendragon Order, Sebastien had been attacked in the street. NoâDamien had said that Sebastien had said heâd been attacked in the street. The only thing that was clear was that he had been attacked.
Could it be possible?
No, there was too much power disparity between them. The Raven Queen was a Master at least, and Sebastien had tested at six hundred thaums. It was possible he could have been underperforming, but if so, he was a master actor.
Thaddeus remembered Sebastienâs eagerness to learn, the glint in his eyes. The look on his face when heâd threatened to bite off his own tongue, if only to safeguard the life and friendships he cherished. There would be no reason to lie about that. Would there be?
What would Siobhan gain from being Thaddeusâs apprentice? To worm her way in to his good side?
If so, she was a master at it. Playing him for a fool like she did everyone else. The one time he... the one person he...
Thaddeus forced himself back. âDonât jump to conclusions.â If Siobhan, the Raven Queen, was pretending to be Sebastien, it would be a grandiose performanceâand for what purpose? Sebastien didnât only exist for Thaddeusâs sake, but for his friends and his other classes. He had struggled with transmogrification for godsâ sake. Could she really have faked that? Wellâwho knew her capabilities? Perhaps she could have.
On the other hand, what if Sebastien was pretending to be the Raven Queen?
The thought was nonsensical, and not only because in this constructed universe, Sebastien would be a fake identity, a false name and body. And yetâconnections formed regardless. So Thaddeus followed them.
If Sebastien was the one pretending to be the Raven Queen, then it would be a person of six hundred thaums putting on these feats of greatness. Was that possible? He wanted to say no, but recalled each time heâd left doors open on his understandings of her abilities. The shadow-familiar spell nothing but an illusion, superstition no more than rumor.
Could Sebastien have rescued those people from the break event, knowing instantly how to perform the requisite spell? Well, yes, because he had already known the spell. Bad example.
Could Sebastien have terrorized those Pendragon Order members with the shadow? Yes; Thaddeus himself had already postulated that the after-effects of that attack had been nothing more than a mental break. The terror of that event could, apparently, be attributed to the darkness philter potion that the Raven Queen had invented; if Sebastien had invented that potionâa second-term student recklessly experimenting with alchemyâthen he certainly could have accidentally included any manner of side-effects. And that was something he would do.
Could Sebastien have become immune to divination? Ratherâcould he have been immune to divination all along? Certainly there had been no reason to discover so until the break event. When the coppers had been scrying for the Raven Queen, he had only been in class...
He had been in Eagle Tower when the Raven Queenâs blood sample had been decimated.
Could Sebastien haveâwhat elseâhave killed a Red Guard defector with nothing more than a glance? No, he couldnât. And Thaddeus couldnât invent any manner by which he could have done so.
Was that enough?
He found himself breathing hard. He realized he had been racing from thought to thought, bursting open doors in search of an answer he wanted. He had found one, and he stood in its doorway, heaving from the effort.
With dread, he looked back at all the open doors behind him. He had found more answers than questions.
Could Sebastien have stolen Myrddinâs book? The way that Siobhan had described it, yes. Trying to gain sponsorship for a professor, then forced on the run by her father. Given the bookâquite possibly, the avatar amuletâwhen all of the city was searching for her. Given, quite possibly, a means of disguise, right when she needed one.
Sebastien had applied for admissions only a week or so later, seemingly from nowhere.
Thaddeus settled his Will. He drew a long, calm breath, and retreated down the hallway of doors. âDonât jump to conclusions.â
Was the Raven Queen manipulating him, pretending to be Sebastien, in order to fulfill some grand, dark purpose? Or was Siobhan wearing a disguise, and learning as much as she could as quickly as she could, in order to keep up the Raven Queen lie?
Or was Sebastien his own person, from unknown provenance, descended fromâor designed off ofâa long-dead Myrddin construct?
Of the options, the one with the smallest amount of assumptions to makeâthe smallest amount of impossible things to acceptâwas the second.
Truth was ephemeral. It was solid and unchangeable, but at the same time it was amorphous and impossible to hold in hand, like water or air. Just because there was a truth did not mean that Thaddeus could rely on it. Reason stated that it would make the most sense to assume, not that the Raven Queen, an ancient spirit with unknowable powers, had possessed Siobhan Naught from thousands of years ago, but that a desperate girl had clung to a means of escape, and had flung herself into theatrics and lies.
But where had the divination ability come from? And how had the Red Guard defector died?
Those were the answers he needed.
#
By the time school started again on Monday, Thaddeus had learned very little. But he had learned. And he had thought.
The Red Guardâs files on the incident at the warehouse district stated only that there had been a mixture of magical effects. When reading it not as an intentional effort, but as something illusory or unintentional, it became less of a strict impossibility to Thaddeus. No, it was not a theatric like the shadow-puppetry, but it could have been an accident. In fact, it made more sense as an accident, a combination of random magical forces rather than something intricately designed.
It had disappointed him somewhat to realize so. And energized and scared him. And shored him up.
The truth was always worth having.
In the world of this truth, then Siobhan would be like a cornered dog, lashing out, biting and scratching with every resource she could get her hands on. She would be a child being treated as a capable adult, scrabbling to make up the difference. In the world of this truth, she would have found shelter, safe harbor, hope in her university lifeâjust enough hope to cling to, with both hands and dug-in nails.Â
In the world of this truth, she would need his help, but may take great risksâfor example, injury, pain, consequenceârather than become vulnerable enough to accept it.
Still. The truth was always worth having.
Thaddeus didnât wait for Sebastienâs class period. He found him at breakfast in the cafeteria and said, âSiverling. My office.â
He thought he saw a flicker of fear. But Sebastien finished his final bite of oatmeal, bid a wave to his friends, and followed Thaddeus to his office.
If Sebastien was Siobhan wearing Myrddinâs amulet, then heâsheâknew that Thaddeus knew that the amulet existed. She was too smart to hope idly that Thaddeus wouldnât have put it together himself. And yet Sebastien followed, albeit wordlessly, down the halls of the university.
He remembered Sebastienâs eyes, at the kitchen table in his cottage. His refusal to tell Thaddeus the truth, at risk of pain and injury, because of how desperately heâd wanted to keep his life at the university.
Thaddeus had asked if Sebastien was helping the Raven Queen with Myrddinâs books. If the two were the same, then that nod heâd received still counted as the truth.
Thaddeus gestured Sebastien into his office, then closed, locked, and activated the wards artificed into the door behind them. Then he activated his additional wards, and his soundproofingânot just muffling, but soundproofing, the plopping thump of all noise vanishing from the leaks and vibrations of the stone walls. All of the spell arrays were built into his office, leaving him free from the need to constantly cast while they conversed.
Sebastien stood straight and tall. His hands clenched on the strap of his satchel, eyes even and strong. Siobhanâs eyes.
Thaddeus leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. Watching him. Her, perhaps.
Sebastien wore that same aggression that he often did. Knives facing outward, pride as a method of self-defense. A survival mechanism that Thaddeus deeply recognized.
He considered Siobhan, assuming that the Raven Queen really was just an elaborate disguise and not a creature from Myrddinâs time, wearing that disguise with the same self-assuredness. An even look to her eyes, proud and knowing. It could easily be as pulled up and weaponized as this look was.
The silence had drawn out long. Sebastien swallowedâthe second appearance of nerves, after the tightness with which he gripped the strap of his bag.
Thaddeus said, âSiobhan Naught.â
Less than a flinch: a microexpression, the faintest twitch in the lip.
Sebastien said, âWhat about her?â
âDid you know that she was trying to gain admittance to the university when her father stole the book?â
He nodded, a sharp movement. âThatâs common knowledge at this point.â
âIsnât it interesting? The Raven Queen has proven herself to be, potentially, Grandmaster level herself. Why try to gain sponsorship for the university?â
Realizing that Thaddeus was genuinely asking, Sebastien gave it some thought. âThe obvious answer is that she didnât want the sponsorship, and only wanted a pretext by which to steal book.âÂ
Thaddeus said, âAssume she had no designs on the book, and her father stole it on his own volition.â
Sebastienâs eyebrows flicked closer together, but he continued. âMaybe she was trying to form a relationship with [that professor] in particular. Maybe she wanted to infiltrate the university, but lacked the money.â He half-shrugged. âMaybe she just wanted to attend.â
âA Grandmaster as first term student?â
He hesitated slightly, then said, âWho says... I mean, is it possible she isnât Grandmaster-level? What if she really is a novice thaumaturge?â
âIf she is a noviceâor, was, at the time that the book was stolenâthen she would have needed resources. Money, a place to stay. A way to learn magic, or at least enough to become the Raven Queen of today. But youâre right,â Thaddeus nodded. âIt is possible that the Raven Queen isâor, wasâa novice. When you look at the things sheâs done, the things that we definitely know that she has done, they are all quite simple. With a few exceptions.â
Sebastien nodded. He opened his mouth to ask a question, then closed it, and his eyes flicked to the door.
Thaddeus bore into those eyes. Black-dark and deep.
âAssume she has those resources,â Thaddeus said. âMoney, a place to stay. A way to learn magic,â he added slowly. âBy now, she would be a second-term student, letâs say.â
Sebastien read meaning from Thaddeusâs unbroken stare. He saw it in the way the boy straightened a little, shoulders back, and the muscles that fluttered at the corners of his jaw.
âHow do you think she would have caused that crater in the warehouse district?â
His breaths came a little faster. Just a little.
Sebastien swallowed. âNo second-term university student could cause something like that on purpose.â
âOn purpose? So they could do it by accident?â
He opened his mouth again, then closed it. With a sharp inhale, he said, âProfessor Lacer, what is this about?â
Unfortunately, Thaddeus was becoming more certain. He did not want to be, but he was.
Thaddeus said, âIf Siobhan Naught was a novice thaumaturge, and has been learning sorcery since then, then sheâs been learning at a prodigious pace. If she was not a novice, and has been a Grandmaster all this time, then she has been slowly ramping up the abilities sheâs displaying, for unknown reasons. If she is a Grandmaster, then what sheâs doing, she is doing with intent, to deceive, for her own machinations. If she is a novice... then she is a victim of circumstance. Doesnât it behoove us to know which one?â
âYou would treat her the same either way,â Sebastien said without hesitation. âThe High Crown would. The coppers would. It would be worse, actually. If she is a novice, then it seems to me like it would be more beneficial for her if nobody assumed she was a novice. As it is, everyoneâs too scared of the rumors to move against her. If she was a novice and everybody realized that, it would be the end of her. âVictim of circumstanceâ or not.â
âWhat you say is true, except for one thing. Do you know what you got wrong?â
Sebastienâs eyes narrowed slightly. After a moment, he shook his head.
âI would not treat her the same either way. If she is a posturing Grandmaster, then I would treat her as a peer. Potentially, an enemy, although I hope not. If she is only a novice, then I would treat her as a student. As a victim who deserves leniency.â
He frowned. âIf she was a Grandmaster and heard you say that, then she would be incentivized to pretend to be a novice. Itâs a self-defeating argument.â
Thaddeus shook his head, and glanced off to the side. âIt would be against her nature to pretend to be lesser than she is.â
He realized that as he said it. He saw, in his memories, Sebastienâs eagerness to learn. His pride, the way he hoarded knowledge and snapped at its thieves. His ravenous hunger, his need and drive to be the best. The Raven Queen could possibly disguise herself as his apprentice, for an entire year, in order to achieve some abstruse goal. Siobhan would not, and neither would Sebastien.
Thaddeus met his eyes again. âHow could the explosion in the warehouse district have been caused by a second-term student?â
Sebastien hesitated. âI would rather- if you only called me here for a conversation- I have class.â
Thaddeus stood from his desk. He stood taller than Sebastien, though not by as much as other people. He did not take his Conduit into his hand. Sebastien tensed as if Thaddeusâs motion had been an explicit threat, and his breaths grew faster. His fingers twitched toward his jacket pocket but he didnât reach inside.
Thaddeus said, âIf Siobhan Naught is a second-term student, then it would only be a matter of time before she makes a mistake while trying to keep up her façade. Someone more powerful than her would be able to help shield her from the consequences of such a mistake. Perhaps from making that mistake to start with.â
âYou... donât think she has people like that?â
âI think she does, but doesnât see that she does.â
Sebastien frowned. Still tense. Still keeping an eye on the door, like a thief ready to get away at any moment with a loaf of bread.
âThen again,â Thaddeus continued, âit is unlikely that she is a novice thaumaturge. She caused that explosion in the warehouse district, a free-cast spell far beyond the capabilities of any Master or lesser sorcerer. A Grandmaster doesnât have allies more powerful than them to shield them from their mistakes; they are powerful enough to cause and wether their own circumstances. A novice needs help, and should be smart enough to take it when offered.â
âNothing is offered for free,â Sebastien muttered, glancing away.
âIf a Grandmaster was found to be infiltrating the University, she would be arrested, if possible. If a novice was found to be fighting for her life on the streets of Gilbratha, she would be very, very much in need of an apprenticeship with someone who can protect her. Someone who knows everything she is involved in. Someone powerful enough to help.â
Sebastien didnât meet Thaddeusâs eyes.
Thaddeus removed his Conduit from his pocket. Sebastien tensed, and watched as Thaddeus set it down on his desk. Not out of reach but far enough to make his intentions clear.
âLet us think, then,â he continued intensely. âAnd estimate how that explosion in the warehouse district could possibly have been caused by a second-term student. It could mean the difference between ally and enemy.â
Sebastienâs breath hitched, slightly. âItâs... itâs possible... if sheâd purchased some kind of explosive, maybe some kind of... disintegration thing.â
âFrom the Haze War,â Thaddeus supplied. âThat much has been confirmed by the coppers.â
âThen... if it was in the bottom of her bag, along with potions of random types and... maybe a spacial-distortion spell array...â
Everything clicked. âThen it could easily have caused a distorted magical backlash when it went off, interacting both with the spacial array and with whatever battle potions she may have kept on her person.â
âItâs possible,â Sebastien said. He hunched in for a moment, then stood straight, his shoulders back. A reflex, a reaction to his own uncertainty.
Her own uncertainty. Perhaps.
âThat would make sense,â Thaddeus mused. âIn that case, only one question remains. If Siobhan Naught was a second-year university student, how do you think her divination protection functions?â
Sebastien ticked from anxious to frightened. Which ticked over into anger.
He snapped, âIf Siobhan Naught was a second-year university student, then it wouldnât be in her best interest for anyone to guess how her divination protection functions. If she was only a student, then I think it would probably be one of the only things keeping her alive. If she was a university studentâif Siobhan Naught, the Raven Queen, was apprenticed to one of the most powerful thaumaturges in the known world and who was rumored to be in the Red Guardâthen I doubt it would do her any good for him to know that she was.â
Fear supplanted Sebastienâs anger the moment he finished talking. True fear, shivering through him, like a prey animal caught in the gaze of a predator.
And Thaddeus Lacer became certain.
He watched SebastienâSiobhan, wearing Myrddinâs avatarâfreeze to the spot, and he realized what heâd done. He had thought he had his apprenticeâs best interest in mind, but he had only gone searching for the truth. He had forced, had pried that truth out of Siobhanâs chest, and now she cradled the hole heâd wrenched there, knowing she was trapped and waiting for the killing blow.
Thaddeus took a long, deep breath. He stepped back and leaned on his desk again. He knew that he was intimidating; he did it on purpose. He knew how to control a room to his whim, demanding competence, demanding what he wished with the force of his Will alone. It had become one of the only ways he interacted with the world, and heâd forgotten that it was one of the worst ways to interact with someone he truly cared for.
Itâd been too long since heâd had someone like that.
Siobhan watched him through her own dark eyes, between a pointed nose and light eyebrows that had been designed by the ancient thaumaturge Myrddin as an immaculate mask.
Thaddeus said, âSiobhan. Take off the transformation.â
She flinched, then stood tall. âWhy?â she snapped. âSo you only have to kill the Raven Queen and not your apprentice? That isnât how it works. I am both of them. It might be more accurate to say I am Sebastienâit might be a fake name and body, but itâs the only way I get to be myself. Siobhan is wanted by the entire countryâthe Raven Queen isnât even real! Itâs like you said, illusions, magicianâs tricks, smoke and mirrors! The only thing keeping me alive is rumor and superstition, and even you, of all people, fell for both. The transformation doesnât work without an application of my own Will, and you canât force me to use it. If youâre going to kill me, youâre going to have to kill your apprentice. Iâm not giving you the satisfaction of anything else.â
Thaddeus raised one eyebrow as Siobhan panted. Her hands shook slightly.
Gently, he said, âI just want to talk to you. Not Myrddinâs avatar.â
She hadnât expected that. She let out a long, shaking breath. Still, however, she refused.
Finally, she said, âSebastien... is me. Basically. Itâs not a mask... it is a mask. But Iâve taken ownership of it. You... are... talking to me. Theyâre both me.â
Knowingly, Thaddeus said, âAnd you keep a measure of safety if you donât transform. So long as youâre Sebastien Siverling, it wonât be as easy for me to take action against you and get away with it.â
âNot as easy, but still easy,â Thaddeus thought. He was conscious enough not to say that out loud. Siobhan was smart, however; he was certain she thought the same thing.
How easy it was to conflate Siobhan and Sebastien. Every reckless action, every glint of eager learning, every moment of pride. Thaddeus had been afraid, on some level, that the world of this truth would bring with it the death of Sebastien Siverling; on the contrary, he only found that his apprentice made all the more sense to him.
However, it did bring with it an entirely new realm of problems.
He realized that he trusted her. He believed her, at least mostly; enough to continue forward. Believed that she was Sebastien, and not the Raven Queen; that she was his apprentice, and not a scheming Grandmaster. As a point of fact, as unthinking reflex, he had immediately adopted her problems as his own.
Deep in his mind, as he considered her problems and her dangers, he brushed too close to the wrong side of a line. He twirled his thoughts away from the dangerous edge, and he said some words that skirted along the circumference of his vow.
âYou are my apprentice,â he said, solidly. âIâm not killing you, arresting you, or turning you away. You are still my apprentice, and I want to help you. I will help you. I want you to tell me everything that youâre comfortable telling me; Iâd rather you tell me everything. And.â He paused a moment, to emphasize the gravity of his words. âYou already know that Iâm in the Red Guard. You know that Iâve taken vows, though you might not know what they are, exactly. You know that there are vows that compel immediate action whenever their triggers are heard or seen.â He sighed through his nose. âI am your mentor above all. If there is anything that you believe that a member of the Red Guard would act upon... then that is not relevant to our relationship. Do you understand?â
Siobhan nodded, dark sobriety in her eyes.
Thaddeus gestured to one of the armchairs in front of his desk. âTell me everything.â
okay but pgts from damienâs pov
is it bad that im like v a bit turnt on by oliver being in his robespierre era

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somehow equally surprised and unsurprised that thereâs a concept of karma in pgts and that it comes from the east. intrigued to see whether zen and yin and yang also come up.
incoming tier list of fuckability
the way i would die for him if oliver taught me anything and sounded a picogram less sure of himself than usual


