Casual Heroing

Ass.

Jiggly, pearly, big butts.

Round, peachy cheeks.

I look at Ariostus, who’s gesturing at me to come forward. Oh, yeah, right, the presentation. Sorry, I just lost myself in important thoughts; don’t mind me. Sometimes, we have to interrogate ourselves on life's most profound questions. And truly, there’s only one real response to everything—

“And, after cleaning his name with the authorities, I’m proud to announce that Joey Luciani will be joining us as a [Professor]!” Ariostus shouts.

God, I could do without the theatrics, maybe. Or maybe not. Who am I kidding? I love this stuff.

“Hello there!” I ramp up the volume of my voice with some Mana. The [Mages] here have no microphones. Either you know how to amplify your voice, or you are not worth listening to; it’s as easy as that to understand how proficient of a spellcaster you are.

“It’s an honor to come here!” I say to a sea of faces that can barely contain contempt. Nothing weird about that. I killed a bunch of idiots they worshipped a few months ago, didn’t I? Plus, there are two vacant towers after my duels.

“I bring with me the magic of old. I know that you may not like me and that some of you think I’m a Human spy, or worse, a Vanedeni spy. But I came here because I want to study magic with fellow [Mages], and also because there are many things I can teach my fellow [Mages].”

I can feel Ariostus’s aura behind me. The guy already wants to choke me. He said to avoid any political takes. But you know, buddy, I’m from the US of A—Everything is politics.

"I hope I’ll be the cornerstone of a more neutral academy. I am a friend of Elves but also a friend of Vanedenis. I, surprisingly, don’t know many Humans, as you might think. But I hope to be a friend to all races, species, and women!”

My joke falls on deaf ears. Most [Mages] in the main auditorium that Ariostus had reserved for the occasion are looking around, confused. Only a few seem to be giggling, having understood my joke.

“I’ll be teaching three classes. I’ll be your instructor for Advanced Cantrips! And I sorely recommend everyone to join, even older students! Why? Well, even your dear [Archmages] will have to attend my class!”

Gasps and shouts fill the auditorium for a second before I cast a [Silence] spell over the students.

“Well, they wanted me to teach them the good stuff privately. But I believe that magic should be shared with the public. Some have already asked, so I’ll say in advance that I will not be teaching the secrets of my class, specifically; no one expects me to, anyway. But I’ll be teaching you all the tools you’ll need to excel in your personal brand of magic. What I really care about is that everyone learns the basics. Also, it’s not common for a professor—oh, right. The two other classes will be secret classes! What are they going to be about? It’s a secret!”

I see a few students laugh, and I smile at them. I can also see my study group, the people who have had to listen to my explanation as to who I am, not even a few hours ago.

“So, as I was saying, it is unusual for a [Professor] to be presenting research material, but I hope to change the way business is conducted here. Therefore, I’ll tell you that as a [Professor], I’ll be researching the secrets of Light Magic hidden in the academy. But my formal research will compile all the generalist knowledge about learning magic. Hopefully, I’ll be here for many years to study with all of you and learn alongside you. Oh, right. I’ll also attend the lessons that I’ll not be holding! After all, everyone has to learn new stuff, even a [Professor]!”

I lift the [Silence] spell and find a surprising number of people clapping. There’s a fair share of boos, but I did not expect the support. My group is among the ones clapping. Well, that’s good. I really feared that I would have burned the bridges with them once I told the truth.

“And that was all from [Professor] Luciani!” Ariostus basically wrestles me off the stage and continues to give updates and the latest news. There will be a few changes at the academy, including the fact that, as I anticipate, the [Archmages] will assist with lessons. Also, the students are asked not to bother the [Archmages] too much.

Oh, I should tell the students in my class to ask the [Archmages] as many questions as possible. What fascinating conversations could come out of that, I wonder. There’s too much protected knowledge around here. Back on Earth, I dated a few hot PhDs and Associate Professors. They told me that the research field is terribly slow because the propagation of information among researchers is all but immediate. Many fear that if they drop the ball for even a second, others will take over, copy the research, and publish it first. So, many are extremely jealous when it comes to their research. Also, people are more interested in citations than anything else.

You know what? Let’s try to kickstart a truly academic world. The fact that these idiots lost the knowledge of the Cantrips and God knows what else is ridiculous. There’s too much asymmetry between populations. Instead, we should be circulating more knowledge. Mh, I could ask the Vanedenis, once they are back in the game, if they could help maintain the information sharing. In the end, those people are crazier than mad cows; I doubt there’s anyone more apt for such a job.

As I leave the auditorium, I think back to what happened with my little group.

…

“So, why have you gathered us here?” Anneus frowns, annoyed.

“I’ve got some news…” I smile, making a headcount to be sure everyone’s here. “Amelia, are you listening?”

The older woman is fussing with Sabina’s hair, swatting away the poor girl’s hands every time she tries to free herself from the motherly clutches.

“Wait a second! Sabina, what are you washing your hair with?! Look at this; it’s terrible! Your hair feels like hay! My God, we need to get you some new products! I know a [Merchant] that is in cahoots with a famous [Beautician] who is in bed with a couple of [Alchemists]. I’ll make sure that we get the best for you!”

Jesus, Amelia.

“Does this have anything to do with the fact that the [Dean] called for a big meeting in the auditorium and that there’s been a lot of movement around the high floors?”

That’s Zahra for you. The perceptive black woman looks at me with a sly smile. I don’t know how, but she seems to know much more than she lets on. Or at least she’s extremely good at the guessing game.

“Yes, it’s about the [Dean] calling for a school assembly. It’s very important, and it would mean a lot if you all could sit for a second.”

Even though I made a scene in Cassandre’s bakery, I’ve put on the disguise again. I can’t just walk among these people with my Human face and spook them. Or could I? It would have definitely been quite the entrance. Hell, maybe next time.

Whatever happens, it better happen sooner than later. I’m happy to have taken this choice, honestly. I’m not too big on lies. I don’t know if it’s the hyper-guilt that my mother has instilled in me with her Christian teachings, but it’s surely affecting my mentality and how I approach every single thing in my life. I care about these people, see. They are in the woods, as someone would put it. Or simply, they are in the shit. To put it gently, they are paddling up not just a creek but the Niagara Falls of fecal matter.

And you know what, I’ve interrogated myself about it. Like, am I just creating a savior complex? Am I doing too much? Or is there a thing as too much? Am I getting the King Arthur complex? Is that even a thing? Maybe not on Earth, but surely it could be a thing here.

Anyway, the point is that, before coming here, I’d been thinking about whether or not I’ve made a good call. I don’t want to be patronizing. I don’t want to be the Draconian guy hanging over all their heads, knowing what’s best for them. But at the same time, I can’t be fully candid about the fact that I know all the details of their lives. These people have gone through some shit, ok? And when you have a life like that, you don’t want someone you barely know to make everything resurface just like that.

So, what I told myself was that I’d simply wait. If they need help, I’ll be there. If they don’t, their secrets are safe with me. I don’t need to be a savior. But I’ll be one if it’s needed.

“So, long story short, my real name is not Gioeius Lucianus,” I say as everyone sits down in my house – I asked Marcellus to gather every single one of them, telling them it’s super important.

“Not many of you seem surprised so far,” I frown.

“You are clearly hiding something,” Zahra answers. “That you were not using your real name was clear.”

Alba, the huge Ahali woman, shrugs.

“Everyone has secrets,” she says.

I’m not sure if she’s trying to justify herself or me.

“Whatever. Fake name. But did you know that I’m not an Elf?” I smile suggestively.

“Yeah,” Anneus nods. “You barely use any Elven expressions or slang. And you don’t talk like a noble. Also, you seem to know close to nothing about [Merchants]. And didn’t you claim that you came from a family of [Merchants]? I’ve never seen a son of a [Merchant] so flat-eared with their money. You are greener than a Druid’s ass.”

I look at the others, and everyone nods.

“Huh.”

“I mean, at this point, do you want to guess what I’m going to say next? Because I swear, if any one of you, save for Zahra, guesses what I’m going to say, I’ll give you a thousand gold coins.”

“You are a homosexual Human noble who had to flee his own country after romancing the Royal Prince!” Alba talks so fast I can barely catch what she says.

“WHAT?!”

Anneus sniggers and nods.

“WHAT ARE YOU NODDING FOR?!” I shout, incensed.

“Alba,” I try to take a deep breath to calm myself, “would you mind explaining yourself?”

“Well, you sometimes act funny around women. It seems like you’ve never really courted a woman. And you cook a lot—”

“IS COOKING A GAY TRAIT NOW?”

“Always has been,” Anneus smiles while moving his crutches around.

I swear the only reason this guy doesn’t get beaten up every single day is because he’s disabled. And this thing about cooking! Hell! The gays already stole the peace flag and Netflix; do they get male cooking too now?!

“Anyway,” I say, “no, Alba, I’m not a gay noble who had a hanky-panky with the Royal Prince.”

Alba drops her gaze to the ground, clearly disappointed. I'd probably beat her up if she wasn’t taller and more muscular than me.

“Anyone else? With a sound theory, maybe?”