Early morning.
In the dim, empty tiered lecture hall, a young apprentice knelt beside the podium, sticking his butt out as he stretched desperately for the bottom of the podium.
Who had come up with this design?
The apprentice strained forward, his cheeks flushed red from the effort.
Installing precious, delicate Echoing Stones in a concealed compartment beneath the podium?
It looked nice, all right, but it made life miserable for the teaching assistants who maintained the classrooms.
At last, there was a soft click, and he successfully removed the final expensive Echoing Stone.
The apprentice fell backward onto the floor, panting as he looked at the Echoing Stone in his hand, its surface polished incredibly smooth from repeated use. Only then did he let out a sigh of relief.
Fortunately, this one hadn't broken yet.
It could probably last another ten... Hmm, perhaps five classes.
The apprentice carefully wrapped up the Echoing Stone, then picked up a charcoal pencil and began redrawing the somewhat faded Echoing Array at the front of the podium.
His movements were practiced and automatic. His expression was earnest and focused, and the intricate, ever-changing array emerged smoothly beneath his hand.
The apprentice also casually corrected several design flaws that impeded the array, making it operate more smoothly. Perhaps that would extend the Echoing Stone's lifespan.
Of course, with a faint trace of pride, the apprentice thought to himself, I absolutely can't let anyone discover this. Otherwise, I'll have to face another review by the Committee on Ethical Mage Conduct.
At the thought of that, the smugness vanished from the apprentice's face.
After finishing the final stroke, the apprentice, whose back and waist ached, finally stood and looked toward his seat. Two large stacks of parchment drafts were piled on it, along with three large