Basic Thaumaturgy for the Emotional Incompetent [A Magical Academy LitRPG]

Fabrisse found himself back in the Stratal Wing less than twenty-four hours after nearly being disqualified from it. He couldn't afford to slack off now, not after his mentor Lorvan had been humiliated by Rubidi the other day. Min Hajin was already there when he walked in, bending over a glass viewing trough that shimmered faintly with internal aether. He didn't look up. "You're two minutes early."

"Good morning, Assistant," Fabrisse muttered. He made his way to the side counter where someone had stacked a crate labeled "ORE SAMPLE L-7-B – UNCLASSIFIED / DRAFTED." The crate was somewhat splintered and smelled like burnt copper, which meant he was probably about to make new friends with some minorly radioactive gravel.

"I am not giving you a big assignment," Min Hajin said. "I'm still technically not supposed to be giving you any assignments. But good with latent resonance theory, you are."

He wants me to sort rocks again.

Min Hajin nudged a slate tab across the counter. "L-7-B. Evaluate. Tag anything that pulses."

Fabrisse scanned the manifest. There was no classification, no comments, no hazard flags. Only a lot number and a single line: Harvested near Calder Shelf. Caution: unfiltered pull. That meant the ore was harvested without standard purification or resonance stabilization protocols. It could shift properties unexpectedly and was more dangerous to handle.

Min continued, "I checked. It's boring now. Go learn something from it." That removed the 'dangerous' part.

Fabrisse pulled on the gloves—standard spell-woven cotton with fray-resistant charm stitching—and reached into the crate. The first chunk was a jagged prism of something quartz-adjacent. It had a dull shine and no thermal imprint. It was likely inert. He set it aside.

The next shard was more interesting. It had hairline fractures and a faint purplish hue under light, and was warm on contact. The resonance depth seemed shallow but not dead. Possible mana ferrite? But . . . off-pattern.

He brought it closer to the viewing glyph, watching for the telltale flicker of latent aether.

There was a glow at the edge of his glyph-vision. Not from the stone—but from his glyph itself.

He stared at the quest description for far too long.

A passive skill, and one that synergized with his Path? He hadn't even known there were synergy perks for Celestial Hoarding yet. Resonant Carry. While holding an active mineral, it would boost attributes.

But with Celestial Hoarding, the stones didn't even have to be held. They just had to be on him.

He turned the purplish shard over in his hands again, newly reverent.

Could this grant something? Even if minor? A bonus to INT, maybe? Or RES, if he was really lucky?

He glanced back at Min Hajin, who was still bent over the viewing trough, unmoved.

Thank you for this opportunity.

Fabrisse returned his attention to the ore pile. Suddenly, every nondescript clump looked like it might be hiding treasure. He picked up the purplish shard again, studying the subtle iridescence along its fracture lines and the faint warmth it gave off even through the gloves.

The warmth wasn't thermal, but likely a shallow ambient aether leak, which meant the internal lattice still had active alignment. The purple tint wasn't just coloration either. Under filtered glyphlight, it hinted at residual arc signatures.

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He remembered a lecture from Stratal Field Theory: Vein-twisted quartz formations, particularly those pulled too early from Calder Shelf zones, sometimes carried trace conductors of mana-ferrite and auric salts. Harmless alone, but resonant under pressure or proximity.

He tapped the edge of the shard once, gently, listening to the way the resonance caught. There was a hum.

Yes. This one's active. Categorize as mild-reactive.

Fabrisse reached for the next piece—gray, heavy, no light refraction. He turned it over, noting the dull surface and uneven grain.

Inert. Basaltic filler.

He set it in the discard tray without hesitation.

Fabrisse moved through the crate methodically, one stone after another. A cracked fluorite shard, definitely inert. A smoky quartz silver with minimal warmth, maybe passive storage potential, nothing more. Two chunks of something clay-heavy and completely dead.

His notes filled slowly with shapes, hues, resonance response, estimated yield. Most of it was textbook.

Until he reached a palm-sized clump that didn't match anything.

It was irregular, faintly translucent at the edges, but coated in a layer of matte grit that dulled its glow. He brushed it off. The core shimmered, not the normal shimmer of low-tier quartz, but something unstable.

He tilted it under the viewing glyph.

There wasn't a tag or any matched entry in the quick-index. Definitely not in the manifest.

Fabrisse leaned closer, heart beginning to thump. He took in several deep breaths, while tapping the side of his satchel exactly four times again.

Misfiled. Maybe unstable.

He set it down gently, careful not to lose the glow.

This one might be it.

Fabrisse hesitated, then gently scooped up the irregular shard and crossed the lab. "Assistant Hajin," he said quietly, "I think this one was misfiled."

Min glanced over. "Explain."

Fabrisse placed the stone down on the bench. "It's not tagged. I ran a resonance check, and it's reactive, possibly unstable. I think it's a twisted quartz, um . . . maybe Calder Shelf pulled too early."

His heart started beating like crazy. Min must have noticed his hesitation there. What if he was wrong?

Min finally looked up.

He reached out, tapped the stone once with a gloved fingertip.

The shard buzzed.

A glyph flared behind Fabrisse's eyes.

Min nodded. "Correct."

He almost dropped the tray.

But no time to celebrate yet. The rest of the crate still sat waiting. He checked his notes, double-checked them, then triple-checked four of the samples just to be safe.

He handed over the completed manifest with 18 entries.

Min scanned the first one, the purple shard Fabrisse had marked as mild-reactive. He immediately frowned. "This was marked inert in the initial pull manifest."

Fabrisse's breath caught.

Then Min added, "But you were right. It's not inert."

The pressure in Fabrisse's chest broke out as he exhaled loudly.

Min continued flipping through the list, page after page. He stopped at the thirteenth entry. "No. This one is obsidian-tinted filler. You marked it as low-storage grade."

Fabrisse's stomach dropped. Did I rush that one? Was the grain too coarse?

Min kept reading.

Then, he shut the tab.

"One incorrect," he said.

Fabrisse blinked. "That's . . . wait, that's still passing, right?"

"Seventeen out of eighteen," Min said. "Ninety-four percent. Congratulations."

Fabrisse made a sound that might've been a wheeze of victory.

Min didn't look up. "Now clean your station. And go eat something."

Fabrisse didn't even care how tired he was. He grinned like an idiot. He didn't just pass. He passed with flying colors.

His Stupenstones were so useless they didn't add anything to his stats, apart from two rough-edged stones that could boost STR, but it didn't matter. Rock studies had never felt so good.

Okay, less good now. The system really disrespected theory learning. Maybe it was engineered by Draeth.

"We are done for today," Min said as he brushed the dust off his hands. "One final thing. Have you registered for your Synaptic Resonance exam retake yet?"

Fabrisse tensed so hard he turned into a taxidermied mantis (figuratively).

Oh no, my Saturday Synaptic Control tutoring session!

He hadn't done any preparation.