The Caffeinated Musings of a Mostly Normal Grad Student

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. For a while, most dragons went to Duke. A few ended up at Brown. But after that unfortunate dorm fire during midterms back in 09’, they weren’t really welcome anywhere but here.

The Valley is one of the few American universities that has part of their campus in the liminal space. I’ve been told it’s more common in Europe. Supposedly half of the campuses in the UK have at least one building teetering into the liminal space, where it’s safe for magically inclined students to study without posing massive risks to everyone around them.

I mean, do you really want a witchling accidentally enslaving half the sophomore class? Or one of the lycanthropes losing control during those pesky full moon turns and eating half a dozen freshmen? How about a dragon shifter freaking out over midterms and incinerating half a dorm building? Obviously not. So it’s best to shove them slightly into the void until they sort out how to manage themselves.

And I know what you’re thinking. Who is this very informative narrator? She must be some really cool magical being capable of profound awesomeness. Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I’m a mostly normal grad student. I stumbled onto the liminal side of campus back in undergrad, at the beginning of sophomore year. I was looking for my Spanish II classroom (spoiler alert, it was on the other side of campus and I completely missed the first class period). I asked around a bit after that, and apparently I have to have some magical blood to even get on that side of campus, but I’ve never spontaneously sprouted fangs or accidentally turned someone into a frog, so I must not have that much magical blood. I asked my mom if we had any family history of magic, but she wasn’t sure. Great great grandmother Nadia might have been a banshee. Or maybe she was a witch? Hard to say at this point. She immigrated to the States from Romania, so all her journals are, unhelpfully, written in Romanian. I ought to take some time to learn Romanian. I should add that to my to-do list…

I registered as a magical student of unknown lineage later that semester, and could have enrolled in the magical side of the Valley, but honestly, I was busy enough as it was, and did not have time to take on a double major. I audited a few classes though, just in case something changed. So far it hasn’t. I do get to enjoy the perks of being able to pop onto a magical campus whenever I feel like it. Their dining hall is loads better than the one on the normal side of campus. And there’s a library over there that will magically pull the books you want. I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be used for magical texts, but they have most everything else you’ll need for a killer humanities paper too.

Back to dragons. You’ll have to forgive my ramblings, I’ve been working on my thesis for 36 hours straight and despite the benefits of fairy coffee, which will keep you wide awake for days, there does come a point at which you’d ought to sleep. But sleep is for the weak and I ain’t got time for it. (Yes, I have had three cups of fairy coffee today, and I’m quite aware that this is not a healthy habit)

I had a run in with a dragon on campus as I stumbled out of the Liminal Library yesterday. Literally. A young, anxious-looking freshman collided with me as she charged toward the library door. How do I know she’s a freshman, you ask? You can always tell who’s a freshman on college campuses; They're the only people who don’t look completely exhausted and jaded. I managed to stay on my feet (not my first time running into someone in a panic on campus), but she went sprawling. She let out a panicked cry as she fell, which turned into a burst of uncontrolled flames and I thought I caught a glimpse of her skin shift to scales and then back in the span of a few seconds. She sat there, stunned, and then promptly burst into tears.

“I’m gonna fail my Intro to Arcana midterm, and I have no idea how to write the spells for Summoning seminar. I’m so screwed.” Or at least I think that’s what she said. She was mumbling between sobs so it was a bit hard to make out the specifics.

Now, if anyone understands stress-induced meltdowns, it’s me. I am practically an expert in the field. So I helped her up. She managed to stop crying long enough to choke out an apology and a thanks. She looked so discouraged. “It gets easier, you know. It’s rough now but you’ll get on top of it.”

Her bright little freshman face lit up. “Thanks. I — I hope so.” She said in between sniffles. “I’m Morrigan.”

I patted her gently on the arm and started to walk away. “Riona. Nice to meet you.”

I almost made it to the end of the sidewalk before Morrigan spoke again. “Wait! Would you help me?”

Logic told me I should say no. I am sleep deprived, under a massive deadline, and have a sloppy understanding of the basics of a classical magic education at best, but she seemed desperate, and I’m a sucker.

“Come on,” I said with a shrug, as I led the way back into the library. The Minataur working the main desk looked bewildered to see me return. Well, I think it was a bewildered look. It’s really hard to say what someone’s expression is when they have the head of a bull. Not very emotive as a species.

The fairy coffee stand called my name (literally and figuratively) so I guided my new charge into line. “First rule of surviving magical classes, drink magical coffee.”

Now, you understand that I was saying this (mostly) as a joke, but I swear to Medusa, this sweet little freshman pulled out a notebook and started writing it down. I wanted to stop her and say that I was kidding and she didn’t need to write my nonsense down, but she seemed relieved to be getting instructions, and it’s not bad advice so I just let her do her thing.

It took a few minutes for us to reach the front of the line, and I ordered two black coffees and a chocolate chip cookie. The fae boy working the cart looked as if he was considering cutting me off, but thought better of it. Good call. Never get between a sleep-deprived grad student and her caffeine.

I handed one coffee to Morrigan and took a deep swig of the other, because I’ve come to the place in my life where I’m comfortable with the world vibrating ever-so-slightly. I knew when I ordered the coffee that this little dragon had probably never had black coffee in her life, but I think it’s a life skill. My assumption was proved right when she took the tiniest sip of her coffee and tried to hide the grimace that pulled at her facial features.

I chuckled slightly, and steered her toward the stairs and up to the third floor. I knew exactly where we were going, and swerved quickly down a couple of aisles until I found one full of obscure spellbooks in Old Norse and Sanskrit (I've actually picked up a fair bit of both languages over the years just by proximity and boredom). Almost no one ended up in this corner of the library so my desk sat empty, waiting to receive me. I grabbed an extra chair that had been abandoned by a nearby wall, and dragged it over, gesturing for my pupil to sit.

“What’s the cookie for?” She asked as she sat down, her notebook still open to my first ‘rule’.

I was a bit surprised by the question, but I had made it seem like I had a method to my madness. “The cookie is because I’m hungry. Now, little dragon, what do you need help with?”

Morrigan wasn’t in as bad a position as she thought. She was very anxious as she pulled her books and notes out of her bag, and began describing the assignments she was struggling with, but after a quick overview, it was clear that she had most of them handled except Intro to Arcana and the Summoning seminar.

I audited a few classes of Intro to Arcana years ago. What I remember of it was that the professor was one of those self-inflated types who liked to talk a lot about himself and how challenging his class was and how critical his research, but said very little of consequence on the subject he taught. I heard that his midterm, which I didn’t take, came verbatim from the textbook.

“Do you know the test format?” I asked as I propped my feet up on the edge of the desk.

“Um, multiple choice.”

I nodded a bit, and instructed my anxious little dragon pupil to look for things that would make good test questions in her textbook.

“Why am I looking for questions? Shouldn’t I be looking for answers?” She asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“Common misconception. If you had to write a test, what would you do? You’d look at the book searching for things you can easily write a question for. Those are the things you want to study.”

The look on her face was priceless. It was as if I blew her young mind. With a nod she set to work, studying and making notes furiously. With little else to do, I got up and wandered through the stacks, picking up books that seemed interesting. Most of the books in the section had simple spells, and I had found out that I was capable of casting some magic on a dare at a party a few years ago, so I learn a few here and there when I have time. The dare wasn’t my smartest plan by the way. I blew up a beer keg in the process, which made quite a mess and also put a damper on the party.

Morrigan asked a few questions as she studied, while I fiddled with a nifty little animation spell that would turn a piece of paper into a little paper pet. I have wanted a pet for a while, but they aren’t allowed in my apartment. I did my best to answer her, though I admitted multiple times that I was somewhat ill-equipped to help. I had no idea how to describe the difference between a fae glamour and an illusion spell. You just know it when you see it.

Once Morrigan felt confident about the midterm, we took a look at her spell assignment for the Summoning seminar. Now, I’ve heard of the professor, Dr. Onyll, but never met him personally. His reputation is tough, but fair, and he tends to prefer spells that are practical and grounded in well recorded older traditions that are tried and true.

I summoned a few simple grimoires from the Old English section for her to look over. Summoning in the library is quite simple. You simply write down all the details of what you are looking for, and then you mumble a few words and the paper bursts into flames. You wait about five minutes and your books sort of just float to you.

Apparently, this process was not as common knowledge as I thought. As soon as the paper burst into flames, I looked up to find the little dragon staring at me like I’d gone mad. For the first time, it occurred to me that, perhaps, this wasn’t something special to the Liminal Library. I had never tried it in the normal library. I had watched a couple of seniors do it when I first stumbled over here and tried it for myself. It never occurred to me that perhaps this was not just how everyone used the library.

Seeing this as a teachable moment, I showed Morrigan how to do the summoning. I had her summon a book about learning Romanian (See, I remembered my to-do list!), and she nearly bounced out of her seat in excitement when the battered paperback book drifted down the aisle and flopped onto the desk.

“Wait, so this is a summoning spell, right? Couldn’t I base my new spell on this one for my seminar?” She asked.

“I don’t see why not. Maybe try reworking it to find a particular topic within a book. Or choose something else to summon. You’d probably get extra points if you made the summoning pull objects stored in the void. That’s super useful, and a bit more complicated.”

I sat back and flipped through the guide to learning Romanian while she worked. When she was ready to give it a try, I talked her through the procedures for safely testing a spell (which I did not know how to do during the aforementioned keg explosion incident) and told her to give it a go. It worked the second time she attempted it, with only a few minor modifications. Spells are kind of like computer code. Leave off a bracket (or in this case, a ‘Thou’ in a spell written in Old English) and all you get is error messages.

We walked out of the library about three hours later, and I wished her luck before heading off to my cozy bed to sleep and binge-watch a show. I felt pretty good about myself, I’m not going to lie to you. I slept like a cursed princess (a.k.a I passed out for a concerningly long time), and felt like a brand new person when I woke up this morning. I grabbed some coffee (regular not fairy) and headed across campus back to the library and climbed the stairs to the third floor. I’m a creature of habit, what can I say?

But, to my surprise my usually abandoned desk was surrounded by a gaggle of freshmen. Morrigan, the little dragon, sat in the extra chair yet again. An undead girl (vampire or zombie, I can’t tell and it’s not polite to ask) sat cross-legged against a bookcase. A banshee was chewing anxiously on her hoodie strings as she paced back and forth. Two werewolves stood eagerly beside the desk and a couple of young, mostly human-looking kids were sitting against the wall. My seat sat untouched, with a cup of still steaming fairy coffee and a chocolate chip cookie on the desk.

“Sorry to bother you again, but my friends needed some help too.”

I should have told them to all go away and let me work. But as I mentioned, I’m a sucker.

“Good job with the bribery, little dragon,” I say as I flop into my chair, and take a gulp of the coffee. “Alright. Who’s first?”