The lecture hall buzzed with murmurs as Claude sat alone, tapping his finger against the desk.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
The rhythmic sound was drowned by the hushed conversations that rippled faintly through the grand amphitheatre. Its tiered rows of desks curved around the central stage, drawing the eye toward the smooth, well-worn blackboard plastered there.
A soft glow illuminated the room under the light of a grand chandelier hanging from above, its glass orbs casting warm hues over the room.
Claude barely noticed the hum of voices or the shuffling of students finding their seats. He was instead filled with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity. This was his first lecture at Elysium.
Despite these lectures being geared toward fresh academy graduates just beginning their journey as mages, Claude knew they were a necessary step for him.
While others might see it as beneath them, Claude knew he couldn't afford to let pride interfere with his pursuit of knowledge. His foundation in magic was still hollow, as he had never been officially taught in magic.
Each department in Elysium had its own lectures, tailored for them: Biomancy, Energetics, and Subspace Studies. Students could technically attend any lecture, though they were advised to focus on one discipline to avoid overextending themselves.
Claude thought about the Energetics Lecture he was currently waiting for, he could only hope he would learn something new. Something to bridge the gaps in his knowledge.
He needed more power... more knowledge.
A voice broke through his thoughts. "Excuse me?" Claude looked up to see a boy about his age, with hair like fire and vivid green eyes, smiling as if they were old friends. "Is anyone sitting here?"
Claude glanced around at the empty seats scattered across the hall and sighed. "...Sure," he said, closing his eyes again.
"Great! Thanks. I'm Charles, by the way, from La Forêt-Rouge, over in western Francia." Charles leaned in slightly. "I hear today's lecture is being given by a visiting professor from the Royal Academy."
Claude raised an eyebrow. "Visiting professor?"
"Yeah, Madam Garnier. She's one of the few non-mages Elysium brought in for research. They say she's an expert in Magical Entropy and works as an assistant to a Mage Lord," Charles said, leaning back with an air of excitement.
Magical Entropy. The term piqued Claude's interest, it was not something he had ever heard of.
Creak!
The door to the hall opened and a hush fell over the room as an elderly woman took to the stage. Claude's gaze shifted to her: she had hazel eyes, and silver hair, her expression gentle. She cleared her throat, her voice as genial as her appearance.
"Welcome," she began. "Today's lecture will be an introduction to Magical Entropy, something that is crucial to understanding the limitations of magic itself." Turning to the blackboard, she drew a small circle with a piece of chalk.
"Entropy," she continued, turning to the class, "is a measure of disorder or randomness within a system. In mundane terms, it explains why a tidy room tends to become messy over time—or why a lit candle will eventually burn out. Left unchecked, all systems move toward greater disorder. This fundamental principle also applies to magic."
She tapped the circle she had drawn. "Here, a simple Tier 0 spell—Water Orb. I believe many of you in Energetics have already practised this one, so we won't go into spell mechanics."
"Now, tell me—what do you think happens when the mental energy maintaining this spell ceases?"
The room was silent. She waited a beat, then turned and drew an arrow from the orb to a puddle.
"The orb collapses into a puddle," she said. "But does it stop there? No. That puddle will eventually evaporate, returning to the air as vapour. Has anything fundamentally changed since the spell's casting?"
She glanced around at the still silent hall, seeing no answer, she just sighed to herself. "Never mind, the answer was..." She wrote the words Mental Energy on the board and continued. "Where did the energy for that spell come from?"
"From us," Charles sitting beside Claude muttered out loud, caught up in the explanation.
"Exactly." She chuckled, pleased someone finally engaged in the lesson, whether unintentionally or not. "Your mental energy is an extension of your consciousness, renewed during rest, and fortified through knowledge. Her Eminence Catherine discovered that brain activity spikes when mental energy is expended in this way."
She gestured to the chalkboard. "This process isn't free—it's tied to your body. The energy your body uses to maintain this heightened brain activity will always produce a byproduct: heat."
She wrote on the board:
ΔS = ΔQ / T
"Now," she continued, "let's break down this equation. ΔS represents a change in entropy, ΔQ the change in heat, and T the system's absolute temperature." She turned back to the students. "Entropy, or disorder, is the inevitable result of energy transformation. A stable spell is momentary. Mental energy imposes order, but that order cannot last. Entropy always wins."
"When mental energy is used to increase order—whether it's forming a Water Orb or any other spell—it is always at the cost of eventual entropy. As the mental energy dissipates, the disorder is naturally restored. The energy you spent organizing the spell returns to the world as heat, and that heat contributes to the rise of entropy."
"Here's something to remember," she said, her voice dropping slightly. "Wherever mental energy creates order, it strengthens the fabric of reality. But chaos always seeks to undermine it. The energy left behind acts as a beacon to subspace—which feeds on the very concept of disorder. Practising magic extensively outside of Elysium only serves to weaken the barriers between our world and subspace."
The term "subspace" sent a murmur through the hall, but Madam Garnier remained unaffected.
"That is why magic practice outside these grounds is restricted. Here, we have Mage Lords to safeguard against… unwanted intrusions," she said with a smile, her tone light but her gaze heavy.
The students sat in stunned silence, revelling in her words. "Thank you for your attention," she concluded, giving a small smile. "I'm afraid I may have gone on a bit, but I hope it was helpful."
Clap! Clap! Clap!
The applause started hesitantly but grew, filling the hall as she left the podium. Claude sat back, his mind churning.
A question wormed its way into his thoughts. Claude could not be certain... but he always felt like this simple lesson hinted at something else. 'Do spells just increase entropy...? Then, why did she call it a limitation of magic?'