Typing my worries away on the computer has always worked for me. I know calm like nowhere else when working on something, just losing myself to the constant writing… maybe I was born to be a copy monk, typing and translating stuff for a living? If I was in the pre-renaissance era I would make a mint! I also wouldn’t have to worry about social contact, about old friends, about my future or even my vocation! Everything would be in the hands of the Saints.

But I guess my lack of blind faith is not good for the way of the cloth. I ask too many questions, I don’t sleep easily with the same old answers! I don’t even trust the Saints promise of an afterlife or anything similar, so really, maybe I am not cut for that either.

“At this rate, you’re running out of possible vocations to take and fail at, you know?”

I sigh heavily, closing my eyes and trying to steer my mind away from that topic. After all, I do have some things to meditate about! Actual homework from Mustafá! But before I get to the titanic ordeal of somehow capturing ‘a piece of the Sun’ in a bottle, I decide to go for something far simpler.

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Hey Mort o.o you’re a weaver right?

Jeepers creepers man: that’s me

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: How do you go about fixing stuff? I doubt you have an encyclopedic knowledge of every single mechanical object O.o Right?

Jeepers creepers man: ahhhh that’s right you got the mending rune with your license these days, right?

Jeepers creepers man: that thing on its own only repairs minor damage

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yeah I figured u.u I tried repairing my good ol’ couch and nothing happened.

Jeepers creepers man: well… do you know the tracing rune?

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Tracing? o.o

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): now you got ME curious mortimer

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): what’s this tracing rune?

Jeepers creepers man: it’s an old trick we weavers use

Jeepers creepers man: it basically lets you acquire temporary knowledge of an object’s function

Jeepers creepers man: you ‘trace’ the object’s structure and it basically tells you what it does and how

Jeepers creepers man: but careful, the more complex the mechanism, the more astral you gotta use to trace it

Jeepers creepers man: and the more disorienting the knowledge becomes

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: That’s honestly amazing O.O! Like talking to the machines?

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Is that something you can do!? O.O

Jeepers creepers man: well i’ve heard rumors of that, actually

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): well call me a fucking skeleton, thats actually amazing

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Can you teach us the rune, Mort? ;w; Pretty please?

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: I’m back! :3 what did I miss?

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): new rune dropped

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: oH NICE! OwO

Jeepers creepers man: well my hands are tied now aren’t they?

Jeepers creepers man: just promise me you’ll be careful with it

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Promise! o.o7

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: I’m always careful! =u=

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): i aint, but ill try my best

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): hey mort is it fine if i teach this to sou too?

Hmm, those two really are close after all. I can’t help but–

“Feeling jealous?”

No, no. I am just curious. I know next to nothing about Canny and Sou but, really, they seem like opposites to me! I guess they may know each other more deeply than what they show to others in chat or something? I promise to myself that if I ever get closer to any of them, I will ask about it.

image [https://i.ibb.co/tszc5wG/Screenshot-3.png]

Eventually, Mort does fulfill his promise and sends us a picture of his ‘tracing’ rune along with a short list of instructions. I quickly write it down in my book (my ‘rune inventory’, as I’ve come to call it) and then I realize the terrible truth: I’ve been scribbling runes on regular paper all this time! Isn’t that very dangerous?

“Uhm, Mustafá. Are there like, Sphinx Hair Notebooks or something like that?” I ask, looking up from my computer at the lounging magician.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“There are, but they are very expensive.” The crone shrugs softly. “You’re better off just being careful around your Heart.”

Oh right. I almost forget that’s what you call a magical book in the making. I feel strangely proud of making one! I guess that’s the purpose of the fancy name. Stuff can be special easily if you just believe it is special!

I focus back on the chat. This rune is called ‘Shi’, and I am beyond excited to use it…but I am still feeling all dizzy from working out my magical muscles right now. Aren’t I supposed to be resting for a test later at night!? Urgh… I really can’t wait to actually get stronger and being able to cast more and more things without even blinking.

“Hey, Mustafá.” Suddenly I wonder.

“What is it now?” My teacher’s patience is growing thinner by the second, it seems.

“Two things… one, how is magic measured? Is there a unit or something?” That question came out of nowhere, I didn’t even think of it before saying it!

“Magic is measured in Thaums and Thaums per minute.” Mustafá shrugged. “A Thaum is the energy necessary to cast a simple heat rune to heat up 1 liter of water up to 100°C… or to conjure three pool balls to juggle.”

“You are making that last part up.” I accuse.

“I am not. Sir Terry was a rather whimsical mage. The terminology stuck even with that little quirk.” The woman sighed softly. “Now that was a real man…”

“Alright, so in theory I can measure how many Thaums I am able to produce? To keep a measure of my advance?” I really hate being measured and studied like that, but I can’t deny that it will be useful to know!

“We will be doing that tomorrow at the Elysium.” Mustafá answers without hesitating, shrugging softly. “What’s the other question? I assume that one wasn’t it.”

“A-Ah, no… is there a way to regain Astral? I know the Mana in my body is no good for spells until it turns to Astral, is there a way to accelerate the process?” I tilt my head to the side.

My teacher seems rather interested in my question, at least that’s what I can gather from the glimmer in her eyes. Seizing a chance to teach something new, she closes her book and conjures a whiteboard and a marker. With a skillful, firm line, she draws a human body in black, and then begins filling it with blue.

“Mana is a reservoir of energy.” She explains. “Once that reservoir is full, the excess begins to fume out in the form of Astral, which flows around you like an aura invisible to most people.”

“Sometimes I see weird octarine lights when we cast… is that a sign that I may have the special eye?” This is obviously hopeful thinking.

“All mages can see Octarine from time to time, it is the King of Colours.” Mustafá shrugged. “If you can’t see auras while we are not casting, then I am afraid you don’t have Manasight.” She stares at my pouting for a few moments before continuing with her drawing. “Anyways. Be aware that this is all a theory and can change in the future, but for now, this is how it works: Once all Astral is consumed, the void around you tries to force more out of your Mana. Your body resists it, and that’s what generates Astral Sickness.”

“Ohhhhhhhh…” I nod softly, trying to pretend that it makes sense.

“This also means that the next time you produce Astral, your Aura will be much bigger, plentiful and healthy… but only if you suffer Astral Sickness in controlled intervals, never actually forcing your Mana out.” She pointed at me with her marker. “Trying to untap the Raw Mana for your spells will not only increase the amount of Paradox you produce, but also severely unbalance your body and can even end up in necrosis.”

“Got it, I will stop as soon as I feel sick…” With a sigh, I rub the back of my neck.

“That being said…” The mage drops the marker without a care in the world. “There are ways to replenish Astral, which is to say, there are ways to quickly refill your Mana Reservoir. The first and easiest is to consume Life Force.”

“Like a vampire?” Now that makes me a little nervous.

“Correct. Slurp in the life juice.” I blink a few times, did she really just say that!? “But you can also just eat a hearty meal…”

Now that’s much better, and there’s actually something in my mind that perfectly fits the bill. A little smile begins to curl on my lips, as I know the perfect plate for these sorts of occasions. Mustafá looks at me with curiosity in her eyes, so after trying to act mysterious for a bit longer, I finally say.

“Ever tried curry?”

“Curry?!”

Yes.

“Yessssss!”

“Tav. I’ll have you know that before living in Obuda, I had a long stay in Bharat. Of course I have tried curry.” She nods firmly.

“Would you want to try mine? It’s not too late, we should be able to go buy ingredients…” I sheepishly offer.

“This is an interesting development. I didn’t think you were able to cook anything beyond fried food, much less curry…” Mustafá rubs under her chin, slowly. “At the risk of contracting some stomach disease… yes. I do want to try your curry.”

“Yesss!” With an energy I didn’t even know I had, I spring up from the couch and walk over to the door. “Let’s go then. Before they close!”

My teacher seems a little worried for me, probably not used to seeing me in my cooking mode. Oh, she will learn to understand me eventually, I think. With a growing grin, I guide her right out of the living room and back to the streets. It’s cooking time!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The alchemist was unnerved to say the least. She had seen her apprentice fall down and die several times today already, dwell in the depths of depression… and yet, here she was now, prancing around the isles in the closest Supermarket, taking her sweet time selecting every single ingredient for the curry.

“Mild or spicy?” She asked Mustafá while looking through the peppers in the vegetable section. “Any allergies?”

“Spicy. No allergies that I know of.” The mage answered without hesitation, even if her mind was full of questions.

Observing carefully, the old magus could notice a certain order to the chaos of Tav’s selections. The girl was clearly aiming for filling, hearty and bittersweet concoction, using cream instead of yogurt for a softer consistency and a less aggressive flavor. Picking traditional spices and herbs to compliment the healing effects of the plate. Clearly, Tav had limited but surprising knowledge of Kitchen Witchery, probably acquired from esoteric Sleeper texts.

Under Mustafá’s curious watch, her apprentice gathered turmeric, coriander, kashmir red chili powder and cumin. Then, from the vegetables, she gathered tomatoes, onions, garlic, basil, cloves, bell peppers, a single carrot, some potatos and a bit of cinnamon. She stopped for a moment, looking between the Mace and Nutmeg cabinets, before finally deciding for Nutmeg.

“Why Nutmeg and not Mace? Why not both.” The old mage asked, following closely.

“Nutmeg for healing, Mace for protection.” Tav said with a nod to herself. “Besides, if I just add everything I can, the curry will taste bad.”

“So you are trying to preserve flavor and function, hmmm.”

“I am… surprised you’re taking me seriously enough to ask.” The apprentice said with a little smile.

“There is value in folk magic. It is where most spells were born, after all.” Mustafá shrugged softly. “It’s not my expertise… but it is the foundation of Medicinal Magic. Maybe you’ll have a knack for that.”

There was something in Tav’s eyes that shook the old alchemist. This youthful, innocent wonder and optimism. She wasn’t fully sure if she liked that, but she did find it fascinating.

“And!” Suddenly her apprentice took a deviation. “Coffee!”

“For the curry?” Mustafá tilted her head.

“Not in my curry.” Tav shook a finger. “No no, it’s for you! You said you’re more of a coffee person, right? Pick a coffee you like. My treat, this time.”

The witch looked at her apprentice and squinted. This energy, this positivity, all this affection. A part of her knew that this was Tav growing attached to her, and that she should stop it at once before it took root.

And yet, she did not.

“You have no coffee machine. I will bring mine… but we can pick this box for now.”

“That’s the spirit!” Her apprentice celebrated, taking the chosen box and carrying all their goods over to the cashier.

Mustafá simply watched, giving a smile only she could feel.