But they all have to start somewhere, and unfortunately, a limitation of magic for peoples who preferred children that didn't suddenly explode and need to be glued back together (magically) was they had to actually learn it when they were growing up - Every single race and species with magical civilisation. Human, Elf, Dwarf, Greenskin, Beast-people. This meant many problems, including the obvious ones such as abuse of some spells by perverted adolescents, like see-through vision or astral projection.
Many of the more easily misused spells were easily countered, cured, or difficult, or both. Specific charms, enchantments, potions, wards, or buckets of water. Still, just because they were easily worked around didn't mean it wasn't a pain when someone misused a spell, or worse yet, misunderstood what it was meant to do.
So it was in the case here. One Monday morning in the senior year dorm of a Witch academy, not one of the thirty students had emerged for breakfast. A tutor entered the dorms, and groaned.
In the common room entrance stood a pair of confused witches, completely petrified. One had herself and her nightgown totally petrified, while the other strangely seemed to now be wearing a strapless red knee-length dress, exhibiting a generous cleavage.
"Not again," she complained, heading off to summon other faculty members to clean up this mess.
***
As often seemed to be the case when something like this took place, it had been a fairly vain mage who had stumbled across the spell. A spell that in the most simplest and deceptive form, claimed to 'give the caster and their compatriots an everlasting beauty to their desires, for all time until unwanted', or, in short, would petrify the caster and anyone they saw as friends, or comrades, for as long as the caster wanted to remain beautiful.
Which, as young mages, often meant they thought 'forever'. As it met the desire of the caster and those caught, changes happened. Some wanted new looks. Some were already comfortable with their image already.
The spell in question was relatively simple, and somehow always worked upon young mages like a lantern to a moth. All efforts to discourage it would crash headlong into the nature of sentient creatures, magic users especially. It is a fact that to ensure children, teenagers, and younger adults would attempt something, one simply needed to tell them not to.
Areas that did warn people about it inevitably ran up against it being used anyway. Areas that tried to hide it all but ensured it would be found sooner or later. A few other solutions were tried, including deliberately teaching it and making examples of why it was a bad idea, but that had drawbacks itself.
This academy stood in a nation that had tried the worst possible option which was to cover it up as much as they could. Which sometimes worked. But more often, somehow managed to make it worse.
The faculty followed the usual procedure. Confiscate the spellbook or note. Try and remove memories of the incident. Hope it didn't happen again. Get on with the day. As memories had to be removed, those responsible could not be given further punishment. As it was covered up, no one would learn what had happened outside the faculty members.
However, memory was tricky. Extreme memories, both pleasurable and unwanted, could be resilient. A first love could never be forgotten, a traumatic event haunt someone all their life. And this was no different. All that needed to start unravelling the cloth used to cover it all up was if someone had been especially frightened by events... or especially excited. A lingering thought of the event might lead them to seek out either similar spells, or the original itself, to figure out what happened. What had been the source of that odd fear? That foggy enjoyment?
And since it was always a minimum eight mages petrified, it seemed almost certain at least one of those two conditions would be met.
Thirty witches had been involved here - vain as the lead caster was, she was friendly, and counted all thirty of her yearmates as compatriots. Only warding preventing spells escaping dorms may have spared younger students or even graduates out in the world at large.
So "not again" would likely happen fairly soon no matter how well the teachers and staff tried to erase the whole thing.
Which, as young mages, often meant they thought 'forever'. As it met the desire of the caster and those caught, changes happened. Some wanted new looks. Some were already comfortable with their image already.
The spell in question was relatively simple, and somehow always worked upon young mages like a lantern to a moth. All efforts to discourage it would crash headlong into the nature of sentient creatures, magic users especially. It is a fact that to ensure children, teenagers, and younger adults would attempt something, one simply needed to tell them not to.
Areas that did warn people about it inevitably ran up against it being used anyway. Areas that tried to hide it all but ensured it would be found sooner or later. A few other solutions were tried, including deliberately teaching it and making examples of why it was a bad idea, but that had drawbacks itself.
This academy stood in a nation that had tried the worst possible option which was to cover it up as much as they could. Which sometimes worked. But more often, somehow managed to make it worse.
***
The faculty entered and began checking through the petrified witches to find who had been the source. There was a procedure, the source had to be cured. Curing any affected without the original caster being free, meant the spell simply kicked back in.
Passing the two entrance-witches, the team looked around the common room. One Elf witch had apparently felt a longing for the old Elven ideal of beauty - to be one with nature at all times. She stood nude but for vines across her form. A pair of witches locked lip to lip had their clothes both unpetrified - it seemed the pair of lovers had felt beautiful enough with each other. One tutor frowned at the almost ludicrous new body one girl had granted herself as part of the magic's effects, breasts and a behind more like those of a giantess on the form of a slender human girl.
A studious witch apparently interpreted her ideal beautiful self as being surrounded by books, her pyjamas solid stone also, indicating that she was otherwise fine with her appearance.
A couple more witches had changed clothing - one wore only black lingerie, like a mannequin in a department store's underwear section. Another wore a casual t-shirt and jeans rather than a nightdress or school uniform.
"Doesn't look like these were the source anywhere. Let's try the rooms," the Headmistress said.
In a room of four witches a card game had apparently been interrupted. A Wood Nymph had become a small tree of stone sitting on her bed, an Orc student was now a statue standing holding an axe aloft wearing furs, the Dwarf student was actually slightly shorter if memory served the Headmistress correctly, and the human was now posed with one hand covering her breasts and another her nethers, flowing hair splayed down her back.
Another room held only a sleeping statue, an early night meaning the witch was now solid stone in bed.
witches had been petrified in the showers, all but one nude, the unlucky Witch now clothed and under the shower overnight having had the new silken dress the spell had granted her somewhat ruined by the never-ending stream of hot water warping its shape.
The search through the dorm for the remaining eleven, and the culprits of this mass petrification, soon found the eight responsible. The leftover three had been a gnome that had become human-sized, her friend who had ironically become a gnome, and a werebeast student who had become a statue of a wolf - a considerable change as she was actually a were-leopard normally.
The eight of them, the minimum seven to form a circle to focus magic on the main caster, were crowded into one bedroom. A quick check of the notes they had used confirmed they had indeed cast the Spell of Everlasting Beauty in its original form - a prank that a skilled sorceress had played on her daughter as a lesson to beware alternative meanings of spell terms.
The circle's members were varied. Three nude, with some apparent enhancements to their figure. One had become an elf, when she apparently should have been a dwarf. One who sought to become a combat witch now wore garments like that of berserker-witches of old, nothing but a loincloth of ringlets and some wraps binding her breasts. One now wore the uniform of a Healer, the red and white robes sitting on her stone form. The last was now an identical copy of the lead caster but in her own (now slightly too small) pyjamas, having apparently saw her friend as an ideal beauty.
And the lead caster herself, as was always the case, was simply her own normal self, completely petrified, clothing and all. It took a vain mage to want to use the spell usually, and this witch had thought herself already perfect. So, she was simply to be a statue for eternity unless the spell was broken.
Which it was, by the headmistress, so that this could all be cleaned up and the school day could actually begin rather than have every eighteen-plus student sitting as statues in their dorm.
Passing the two entrance-witches, the team looked around the common room. One Elf witch had apparently felt a longing for the old Elven ideal of beauty - to be one with nature at all times. She stood nude but for vines across her form. A pair of witches locked lip to lip had their clothes both unpetrified - it seemed the pair of lovers had felt beautiful enough with each other. One tutor frowned at the almost ludicrous new body one girl had granted herself as part of the magic's effects, breasts and a behind more like those of a giantess on the form of a slender human girl.
A studious witch apparently interpreted her ideal beautiful self as being surrounded by books, her pyjamas solid stone also, indicating that she was otherwise fine with her appearance.
A couple more witches had changed clothing - one wore only black lingerie, like a mannequin in a department store's underwear section. Another wore a casual t-shirt and jeans rather than a nightdress or school uniform.
"Doesn't look like these were the source anywhere. Let's try the rooms," the Headmistress said.
In a room of four witches a card game had apparently been interrupted. A Wood Nymph had become a small tree of stone sitting on her bed, an Orc student was now a statue standing holding an axe aloft wearing furs, the Dwarf student was actually slightly shorter if memory served the Headmistress correctly, and the human was now posed with one hand covering her breasts and another her nethers, flowing hair splayed down her back.
Another room held only a sleeping statue, an early night meaning the witch was now solid stone in bed.
witches had been petrified in the showers, all but one nude, the unlucky Witch now clothed and under the shower overnight having had the new silken dress the spell had granted her somewhat ruined by the never-ending stream of hot water warping its shape.
The search through the dorm for the remaining eleven, and the culprits of this mass petrification, soon found the eight responsible. The leftover three had been a gnome that had become human-sized, her friend who had ironically become a gnome, and a werebeast student who had become a statue of a wolf - a considerable change as she was actually a were-leopard normally.
The eight of them, the minimum seven to form a circle to focus magic on the main caster, were crowded into one bedroom. A quick check of the notes they had used confirmed they had indeed cast the Spell of Everlasting Beauty in its original form - a prank that a skilled sorceress had played on her daughter as a lesson to beware alternative meanings of spell terms.
The circle's members were varied. Three nude, with some apparent enhancements to their figure. One had become an elf, when she apparently should have been a dwarf. One who sought to become a combat witch now wore garments like that of berserker-witches of old, nothing but a loincloth of ringlets and some wraps binding her breasts. One now wore the uniform of a Healer, the red and white robes sitting on her stone form. The last was now an identical copy of the lead caster but in her own (now slightly too small) pyjamas, having apparently saw her friend as an ideal beauty.
And the lead caster herself, as was always the case, was simply her own normal self, completely petrified, clothing and all. It took a vain mage to want to use the spell usually, and this witch had thought herself already perfect. So, she was simply to be a statue for eternity unless the spell was broken.
Which it was, by the headmistress, so that this could all be cleaned up and the school day could actually begin rather than have every eighteen-plus student sitting as statues in their dorm.
***
However, memory was tricky. Extreme memories, both pleasurable and unwanted, could be resilient. A first love could never be forgotten, a traumatic event haunt someone all their life. And this was no different. All that needed to start unravelling the cloth used to cover it all up was if someone had been especially frightened by events... or especially excited. A lingering thought of the event might lead them to seek out either similar spells, or the original itself, to figure out what happened. What had been the source of that odd fear? That foggy enjoyment?
And since it was always a minimum eight mages petrified, it seemed almost certain at least one of those two conditions would be met.
Thirty witches had been involved here - vain as the lead caster was, she was friendly, and counted all thirty of her yearmates as compatriots. Only warding preventing spells escaping dorms may have spared younger students or even graduates out in the world at large.
So "not again" would likely happen fairly soon no matter how well the teachers and staff tried to erase the whole thing.