On the third waning gibbous of February, I received a scroll from a carrier owl on behalf of the chancellor of the High Magic Council informing me that I, as president of our Academy’s Freedom Apprentices of Righteous Trickery (FART) chapter, had violated the Academy’s Code of Spell Casting.

The letter stated that me and my FART chapter had allegedly cast unapproved spells upon students by distributing a pamphlet entitled “The Top Five Spells Chancellor Juliuscor Doesn’t Want You to Know.” According to the High Council, telling the truth about blacklisted spells to counter their lies meant we were promoting unethical spellcasting.

The Academy of Magic, of course, feigned ignorance when a massive goblin was previously admitted, showing sympathy for the innate barbaric nature of goblins.

In addition, the High Council said I was promoting the dark arts because of the telepathic messages I was “exchanging in class.” With these absurd restrictions, the High Council tried to shame me by claiming I had made individuals feel “threatened and unsafe.”

As a result, administrators presented two options to right the supposed wrongs I had committed: concede to a Mutual Resolution Agreement that would require me to surrender my tome of dark magic or attend a High Council hearing. Neither of these options are tenable. The first would be endangering the existence of the dark arts, while the latter would likely involve presenting my case in the Academy’s kangaroo court to the very individuals who made the complaint—or, at the very least, biased warlocks who support them.

The letter I received and the reaction that precipitated it demonstrate two characteristics of the current state of the Academy of Magic’s High Magic Council: its oppression of free spellcasting and its double standards.

My FART chapter’s distribution of the pamphlet and telepathic communication were simply an exercise of magic skill development. I had not forced any wizard, warlock or witch to read the contents of the pamphlet nor intercept the telepathic messages. It is thus not only illogical but completely false to define FART’s actions as harassment.

Moreover, as the magically-inclined, we possess the God-given freedom of casting that is not contingent upon whether others disagree or are offended by our spellwork. Some might argue that because the Academy has an impenetrable protective mana field, it should have greater authority over students’ magic. However, I would argue that the Academy is not its own nation; it is still part of the greater Wolfshade region and must abide by the bylaws of King Eldorath the Wise.

No magic academy chancellor nor high warlock can nullify my basic liberties. What’s more, the Academy has previously claimed to have adopted the Ravenbell Principles as a commitment to free spellcasting and open sorcery. The Academy also claims that it “dedicates itself to the mythical quest” and “intends to teach all students practical magic, basic healing concoctions, basic combat skills and realm history.”

The Academy’s commitment to open sorcery, as I have now repeatedly seen firsthand, only applies to those whom the Academy deems worthy of power.

For example, when I called upon the western winds during the autumn semester and was mocked by my fellow conjurers due to unforeseen heavy gusts, the Academy took no action.

Even worse, when I had mentioned such occurrences to the chancellor during our session, he expressed that he was aware of them. Although he communicated that he was sympathetic and would be willing to speak with me about my concerns, it seems odd to me that he knew of my pure, raw power and made no effort to intervene amidst the mocking. Instead, he seemed to be more concerned about students who felt “threatened and unsafe” by 60 mph gusts of wind that did not target any individuals specifically but did cause extensive property damage and injury.

From the perspective of most reasonable shrews, it would seem that the backlash to my practice of the dark arts constituted “harassment.” I was truly “threatened and unsafe,” and yet the Academy did not care because my spellwork is supposedly “wrong.”

Meanwhile, the Academy continues to teach the “Conjuring of Spirits from Purgatory” from the 3rd edition of the necromancy spell tome while criticizing my practice of the dark arts.

With this latest show of hypocrisy, the Academy again demonstrated a willingness to infringe upon the freedoms bestowed by King Eldorath the Wise in order to protect the “safety” of “other students.” In doing so, the Academy disregards their mission statement of “[teaching] practical magic” and instead aims only to push a watered-down curriculum, seeking to silence anyone that contradicts the High Council. The Academy not only allows for the practice of necromancy, with which most Elvish students disagree, but their faculty partake in the casting of spells deemed “too dangerous” for the average student.

Despite the Academy’s claims about promoting wanderlust and magical development, they only support their own flawed definition of conjuring education at the expense of true magical development. For the High Council, it is not about “teaching sorcerers to cast clearly or make relevant potions” but about controlling the rising generation in the ways of spell limitation.