The Akhapost Conspiracy

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        “Welcome to the Academy!” Random exclaimed, with a bewitching enthusiasm. Barry's instinct was to be polite, but in his head, only one question burned:

        "What kind of stupid name is Random?" 

        "Well, you don't mince words, do you?" Random answered, making Barry jump and realise he’d said that aloud.

        "No. I grind them." Barry quipped wryly, before realising he’d created an  awkward silence. 

        Random cleared the air with a cough.

        “Anyway, on with the tour. Follow me!” He marched off to the left, assuming Barry would come after him. Barry sighed but did so, and looked around as they walked.

        The long stone hallway had many doors, some of which were opened, allowing Barry to see some old wooden tables and chairs with ornate etchings decorating them. They also passed some windows, allowing Barry to see grounds outside, including a huge grass oval and a forest off in the distance. Students mingled and frolicked, somehow doing so in tight-leather. Barry was not a kink-shamer, but to do it in this heat, and in a school, geez.

        “Form-fitting outfits enable more conducive spellcasting.” Random explained when Barry asked about it.

        After some time, they reached the end of the long hallway, and Barry crossed his arms, unimpressed. What a tour that was when it held nothing more than a dead end hallway. Random then waved at the wall and just as Barry was about to think this guy was crazy, a massive oak door flickered into existence and opened itself.

        "Where the hell did that door come from!?" Barry shouted, startled and a little bit freaked out.

        "Hm? Ah, I forgot; you're not from around here."

        Random's outstretched arms encouraged Barry to finally look around them.

        "You see, the Academy is the frontier institution for implementing magic into everyday use! Behold!" Random gestured to the stone edging the door frame, and Barry leaned in to look.

        There were runic inscriptions embedded in the stone, and now that he noticed it, he could see them everywhere. They ran across the floor, along pillars, stretching even into the ceiling. Fragments of the script came alight as magical artefacts were used by passing students. Barry observed hovering panels for transit, shifting columns of stone, golems that did menial labour. Some glowing runes were even used as lighting.

        "The foundations of the Academy are infused with the flow of magic." Random continued. "Nearly all installations operate on stored residues or have sentience. Thus we call it auto-magic."

        "Flow? You mean, like… the flow of current?" Barry asked, hoping to at least hear 'electricity'.

        "Why, yes, exactly like a river." 

        This was all nonsense. Runes? Magic? Where was the science in all this? Newtonian physics? Why had Edison and Tesla forsaken him so?

        "This is a hoax! A lie!" Barry accused. "This has to be science! Magic isn't real!"

        Random frowned. "How could it not be? It's all around us."

        Barry began crying to the sky for a God that wasn't there. Random looked on as Barry wailed. It was all very melodramatic, really. No passers-by regarded them, thinking it was the monthly student breakdown in the academy hub.

        "You don't feel it yet, do you, Barry?"

        Calmer, but still confused, Barry observed Random pluck out coins from a concealed pocket. He flipped one at Barry who caught it clumsily, and then he felt it: a tingle to the touch, an energy to the air: the coin held magic, whatever it really was, somehow. Barry brushed its surface and felt an embossed pattern. Runes, like those on the walls.

        "All currencies are etched and imbued with latent magic. Mostly to prevent duplication and therefore inflation or thievery," Random flourished four coins in one hand, and suddenly Barry's eyes caught the light of brilliant fire: each of the coins had been lit aflame, somehow, impossibly. "But they can be used to cast magic!" 

        Random gave an array of flourishes, trailing flame throughout the air. When he was finished, he gave a flick of the wrist, and the coins were gone. Showing off his empty hands, he bowed, eager for Barry to be a sated audience.

        Barry pondered. He'd been teleported, seen their arcane infrastructure, and this dork had summoned fire using money. Maybe, just maybe… 

        "Fine." Barry conceded. "Okay. Magic may be real."

        Random beamed. He'd won Barry over, somewhat.

        "BUT." Barry continued. "I’ve definitely seen the coin trick before, and you probably have some kind of self-ignition chemicals on those coins so this doesn't mean that science is lost! I stand by my convictions!"

        Random chuckled. "Well, I have yet to see what this 'science' of yours entails-"

        "Observe!" Barry cried out, and took a lighter from his pocket, "I, too, can summon fire!"

        He flipped the lighter on, and a small flame appeared. Suddenly, the people around them stopped to look, gasping. There was no magic in the lighter, yet it had spawned fire! 

        Barry, smug and satisfied, began to elaborate: "So, the switch releases stored butane-"

        "Dear gods." Random interrupted. "You have a natural talent for flame! You're a pyromancer!" 

        "What."

        "You'll take your first classes in spellcasting, then."

        Random grabbed Barry by the hand and dragged him away. Barry heard hushes and murmurs of a mage without magic, and the rumour would spread like the fire that incited it. The remainder of the tour had Barry taken to a living library, several student areas hidden by obscuring magic, and a cafeteria. 

        Well, at least the cafeteria seems normal. Barry thought as they passed. 

        "Oh, don't leave leftovers," Random noted. "Otherwise, the food eats you instead."
        Barry sighed.

        “Important notices are found at the Hububble." Random continued. "Always check your FireMail, and don’t copy down runes you haven’t researched yourself. If you hear moaning in the hall, get your head out of the gutter because it's just an old ghost we can’t exorcise. Oh, and the campus is locked up at seven.”

        It was all a bit much, but Barry also realised: he was to begin in the morning, and so would need a bed. Hopefully he will wake up from this nightmare.

        "And finally, these are the dormitories." Random said, as if on cue. 

        They came to a lonely hall with a decrepit door at the other end. Random gave a look that said, 'Yes, that's yours' and Barry sighed. He took the keys from Random, and brushed past.

        "Well, I'll be seeing you!" Random called from behind him.

        "Huh?" Barry said, turning, "You mean you're not coming-"

        But there was only empty air where Random stood, as if he was just a passing wind.

        Hm. Good riddance. Barry thought, finally alone. He made a happy hum and strode to his room, creaking open the old door, when he noticed a sheet-laden shape atop the bunk bed. Ah, new roomie, Barry guessed, and said:

        "Uh, hi? I'm Barry, and I guess we’re roommates."

        Then the bed rustled, the figure uncovered, and Barry was horrified to see a familiar clownish expression, the owner of which replied:

        "Well, Random’s my name and random’s my game! Looking forward to spending the entire semester with ya!"