Aliases are alternative forms of a reference. They can include actual aliases for characters, nicknames, plural variations, gendered versions of some [Classes], and even typos.
The man who’d admonished her so casually—the senior [Mage] in charge of this class’s magic lesson named Rievan Forstrom—walked on without a backward glance.
Charles de Trevalier made no effort to conceal his glee at Ceria’s upbraiding. Worse, Rievan didn’t seem to mind. The mage walked over to another student and began talking in a loud voice, lecturing the unfortunate girl about the quality of her spell, a bundle of sparks that was supposed to be the [Electric Jolt] spell.
He nodded to Rievan, and Ceria saw their instructor was showing the Human girl how to do the spell properly. Neat, focused webs of lightning flashed from one of his palms into the other. He was certainly critical of the girl, but he wasn’t being nearly as sharp with her as he had been with Ceria.
At the desk next to her, Pisces focused on his own spell. He didn’t know any Tier 2 combat spells, so he was casting [Electric Jolt] as well. Rievan had taught the entire class the spell, but he’d insisted that anyone who knew a higher-Tier spell should practice that instead. The more complex a spell was, the more a mage benefited from working with it.
The loud voice made Pisces and Ceria both jump. She cursed as her attention wavered and the water she was holding in place lost its form. The young man sat up quickly as Rievan loomed over his desk, looking down his sharp nose at him.
Pisces looked ahead respectfully while Rievan scowled at him. He didn’t appear intimidated, just alert and wary. And confident. Ceria didn’t see a bit of doubt in his posture.
The other practicing students looked over as Pisces raised his hands. Rievan was clearly expecting Pisces to make a mistake and pounce on it, but to his surprise—and Ceria’s—a steady stream of purple-blue lightning crackled from one of Pisces’s hands into the other, looking for all the world like a bright river of electricity.
Drops of water spattered on Ceria’s desk and evaporated as she lost control of her own spell. She was gaping. Just a bit. Pisces’ control of the spell was immaculate. Both she and Rievan knew it. After a moment, the mage nodded. He looked at Pisces with a hint of respect and addressed the other students as a whole.
Ceria knew what she was doing might well get them kicked out of Wistram. But she was sick of sticking to the rules. She’d had to deal with Rievan, the rude, arrogant Human teacher who seemed to hate half-Elves, and Illphres, who had refused to teach them magic. She hated Wistram’s stupid secrets and the way everything was give and take around here.
The next day, Ceria had trouble keeping her eyes open in all of her classes. She was exhausted from staying up and trying to puzzle out the spells in Pisces’ book. She nearly fell asleep twice in her class studying basic enchantments and how to decode magical auras, but she didn’t dare close her eyes in Rievan’s class.
He stared around the classroom, staring at each student in turn. When he met Ceria’s eyes Rievan’s nose wrinkled slightly and he looked past her. He pointed.
Ceria and the other students in the room gaped as Pisces delivered a perfect summary of Rievan’s lesson from yesterday. The [Mage] stared hard at Pisces as the young man finished and sat down.
