“Look,” Tercius began. “The nobles use this method constantly. If Septimus—”
His mother glared at him while adjusting Portia to let her sleep better. "Father," she corrected firmly.
Tercius nodded. “—If my father was here, he would confirm my words as true, mother. It's a common practice even among the magi, although the mages use far better potions and on a more frequent basis. From what my uncle told me, most nobles take one regeneration potion every two cycles. If they can afford it, that is. These potions help them to stay in better physical shape for far longer,"
Ciron rumbled. “Now that you mention it, I'm sure I've heard of this…” he nodded, gently cupping his chin. “Your grandmother must have mentioned something,”
Tercius nodded. It was possible and highly probable. His grandmother had been involved in the herb production business, back in Spheros. “Uncle told me that his mother, a woman of over seventy cycles, was still as spry as someone who is over a decade younger. My teacher of practical magic is almost in her mid-eighties and she has no trouble with pains of old age, such as the ones that bother you,” he nodded to his grandfather. Lower back pain had been a major ache of Ciron for a decade now. “I have talked to her about it and Mistress Helfira— that’s the name of the woman I am talking about— told me that a freshly made potion of regeneration of at least medium quality at every six months interval is standard practice for any mage older than thirty-five cycles of age. It works. Most mages live up to ninety, I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Some even cross a hundred,” Tercius explained. He left out that before taking that potion, mages take two to three days to let their bodies be examined and mended by the best healers in the world. If he had a way to do it, he would have liked that for them as well, but his family had no Repository Points of their own for that step. “Trust me on this. I think that Mistress Helfira could even run, if she wanted to,”
When used on a healthy and physically complete body, the major effect of the potions of regeneration was to postpone the vagaries of age, pushing them further into the future. Contrary to that, what Mistress Helfira had done with the rejuvenation was turning back the clock entirely. She truly was back in her mid to late fifties, biologically speaking. Theoretically, the elder now had anywhere from two to four more decades of life, all of which could once more be slowed by regular potion intake. The problem this time around was that Mistress Helfira was 'As Pointless as a non-magi', pun probably intended, and that over the decades of bi-annual use her body had accumulated some non-dismissable resistance to the potions. She would need to stop using the potions for at least a decade for that resistance to pull back.
“All right. Let’s leave the issue of these potions for later. For now, I’m more interested in where in the ninety-nine Blazing Hells did you find the money for all of this…" his mother accused as she examined the pile that he had deposited in the basement. It was the only part of the house with a pleasant temperature, but at the same time, it was enshrouded in perpetual darkness that was only broken by an occasional flame from a candle. The light-orbs that he bought and turned on for Ciron and Petra to see, were meant to give this space more options of use.
“Mother, lower your voice. You never know if a sharp ear is listening,” Tercius whispered and went over to rummage through the pile of stuff he unloaded from his amulet. “Uncle left me quite a sum and I had the money for the Academy’s first cycle returned to me. And all of this is not that expensive. That heating plate there—” he said waving at the enchanted appliances. “—is fifteen times cheaper than the one we bought from that Zurosian merchant,” he said and his mother gave him a narrowed look. He sighed. “Mother, the mages make these things to practice enchanting. They’re everywhere. All of this— AHA! Here it is,” he waved the cube with the Bubble of Silence enchantment and gave it mana to drink. “—Now we can talk in peace with no fear of being overheard. As I was saying, all of these are basic things that every household has…”
Looking at the still dubious eyes of his mother and grandfather, Tercius felt frustration creep onto him. Probably the worst part is that he knew how his words sounded to them and he couldn't get angry for their stubborn disbelief. Two years ago, he would have been firmly planted on their suspicious side with both of his feet.
Reason, it seems, has hit a wall with these two. “What do you want me to say? That I got greedy and robbed money from the elderly and infirm? Is that what you want to hear? Well there you have it,” Tercius said calmly, in all seriousness.
Ciron snorted, his mouth twitching, and just when Tercius thought that the old man would laugh, his mother stopped him with a stern look. Ciron coughed.
“Your mother is just concerned,” his grandfather rumbled.
“All of this was bought with the money you gave me, with the money uncle gave me and my own money. You can ask Mistress Kalina, since you don’t believe me,” Tercius said finally, and at the same time he added a mental note to ask Mistress Kalina to keep silent about the whole escapade at the Courthouse. There was no need to let them know about something like that— it would be a needless burden on them.
But then, out of nowhere, he asked himself if he should be doing that. What am I doing in the first place? Shielding them with ignorance? Or shielding myself from further questioning?
It was a bit of both, he reflected.
He truly didn’t want them spending even a modicum of their time and nerves for something long past him and he didn’t want to fall into a position where he had to answer endless questions about something that he didn’t consider worth a mention. It was… tedious.
But if he just told them, and then they left him alone and without further inquiries… A bit of both worlds.
“You’re thinking about something…” his mother said.
“Mhmm…” Tercius replied, absentmindedly.
It was a viable option, he reflected, provided that his mother and grandfather could come to a deal with him, and stick to that deal later, then he was not against giving them a once-over of the events in the Courthouse and the money that he had gained from that.
A test was in order, he realized with startling clarity.
Tercius needed something on which he could create a guideline for when these sorts of events happen. Then, based on their reaction, he would know whether it was better to keep quiet or share in the future.
But… he didn’t just want to see how they react.
“I haven’t told you the whole story,” he admitted.
Petra exhaled. “Go on,”
“And I’m willing to share it, but under one condition,”
His mother glared at him, as he looked ready to argue. His acquired taste for physical pain had been of great help over the years. For one, his new parents had learned that a beating didn't quite work on him and had given up on that entirely. He was stubborn enough that when he decided that something would be as he said, then it would. The only recourse that they had was to reason with him, as he always left a small door of possibility open for such cases, but reasoning was not the primary tool of Petra's arsenal.
“Tercius—” she said while giving him a look that promised hellfire. The amused smile on his face probably wasn’t helping. He made his face turn strictly neutral.
Ciron placed one meaty hand on Petra’s shoulder and gave her a calming look. “Let’s hear out the condition first,”
Petra huffed but turned to Tercius to wait.
His grandfather always complained that Petra had a short fuse when something didn’t go her way— especially when she thought that it should— and Tercius had to agree with that assessment. Based on some embarrassing stories that his grandparents shared, Petra had made a great deal of progress from being a young firecracker. Still, there was always room for improvement.
Tercius nodded to his grandfather in gratitude. “It’s simple. I share my story and you don’t ask questions about it,”
Both seemed surprised by that.
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“That’s all?” Petra asked.
“That’s all.” Tercius nodded.
“Why don’t you want us to ask questions?” Ciron asked.
“For various reasons,”
Ciron hummed. “We get ten questions after the story, and it’s a deal,”
Tercius shook his head. “The original offer stands. Take it or leave it,”
“You used to be more reasonable, Tercy,” Ciron said as he shook his head. “Negotiations are about give and take, aren’t they? So let me be the first one to give. Nine questions and we have a deal,”
“You’re making me sound unreasonable, just because you lowered the arbitrary number that you set up in the first place," Tercius looked to his shifty grandfather. The old man held his gaze and gave a smile in return. As the weatherbeaten and sun-tanned lines of his grandfather's face creased to reveal yellowing teeth, Tercius said, "A single question, then, just so you can't use that move anymore,"
“I think that eight questions are more appropriate, considering that—” Ciron amended and continued to argue his case.
Tercius found a reply to his grandfather, even as he incremented the number of questions to three. Back and forth they went, one decreasing that number while the other increased it, all the while they kept finding reasons for their seemingly reluctant actions.
“Let’s meet in the middle,” Petra stated abruptly, interrupting Ciron and Tercius from the pleasant exchange. “Five questions,”
Tercius and Ciron mulled over it, as both of them frowned at Petra’s words.
“Five is too little,” Ciron said with a humm. “Six is such a fine, even number,”
“Five is too much,” Tercius said immediately after. “Four is even as well and just as fine as six,”
“A bit smaller, though,”
“In this case, that suits me just fine,”
“Six,”
“Four,”
“How about this,” Petra proposed and they turned her way. “You both agree on five, and I’ll make each of you a pie tomorrow,”
Tercius paused. He took a quick look at Ciron. The old man raised an eyebrow. Tercius nodded and they turned to Petra.
“I agree,”
Ciron grunted in affirmation.
“Alright. Now tell your story and we have five questions after it,”
***
“That bitch,” Petra spat only to cover her mouth in a rush and glance around. Unfortunately, his grandmother wasn’t there to scold her and his mother relaxed, but with visibly less enthusiasm for bad words. “And only ten cycles of work in a mine? A lifetime of that is too short for what she tried to do,”
“She was also stripped of these things called mana channels. Without them, she can’t use spells or skills at all,”
Petra and Ciron winced.
“Some of them will probably start to grow back, but they won’t come nowhere close to the point where they were,” Tercius shrugged.
Tercius fell silent as his mother continued to fume and Ciron looked at the floor grimly.
“Did you think of a way to prevent these things from happening again? A skill to protect the mind, maybe?” Ciron finally asked.
Tercius nodded. “A few solutions have come up, but… well, let me explain—”
Mages were… tentative around mind skills, for a few reasons. He had learned of a few mind strengthening skills during these last months at the Pyramid and the general conclusion of almost all books was that these skills had a fundamental defect. Most, if not all, mind protection skills were known as amplifiers of stubbornness. The skill Mental Fortitude, that Mistress Helfira had mentioned, was the named example in many texts on the subject. You simply could not reason with people who had a high-level skill of Mental Fortitude— once someone with a level [50] skill made up their mind, there was no changing it.
Tercius was stubborn in strange ways for even stranger reasons, he would grant himself that, but he didn’t want to be bullheaded on the account of a skill. If he was being bullheaded, he would like for it to be on his own.
That led him to think about the skill that his uncle and Seliana spoke about, the one that some people get when exposed to the Nightmare Potion. Was it truly a skill that would protect the mind or would it focus on mitigating fears? And knowing what he did about Energy and the way it behaved when making skills, Tercius had to ask himself.
Was prejudice having an influence here?
When people read that anyone with a high-level Mental Fortitude was as stubborn as a thick-skulled bull in heat, were they influencing that skill to behave that way? Or was it true, regardless of what you believed?
The most important question of all that had come to him, was the one that worried him the most. Now that he had these questions in his mind, how would this knowledge alter future skills? It was a frightening thought that belief could have such an impact and yet years of intimate knowledge did suggest that fact quite fiercely and he would be a fool to deny it.
In his search, he had come across one skill that was specifically mentioned as a very rare skill, a very desirable skill called Willpower. It was strongly recommended for any mage to get it and train it. Unfortunately, he found no writings as to how to practice to get it although the name and the small text did give some clues. The few lines that he had read spoke about the ability to delay gratification and resist short-term temptations to meet long-term goals— a mindset that was taught even in the first year at the Academy— followed by the ability to override an unwanted thought, feeling, or impulse, and so on. Essentially Willpower was an amplifier of the power to regulate yourself, and to Tercius it seemed like a skill that he should have gotten already.
Then why didn’t he?
Why did he gain Small Blades Mastery, a skill that was formed after barely a month or two of practice with his uncle?
He had spent a long time learning to resist, delay and override his primary thoughts, just to give himself the chance to go over them with a fine-toothed comb. So why was Willpower not one of the skills on his long list?
When he had made inquiries about Willpower of the relevant authorities, the librarians had told him that information about higher tier skills was restricted inside the Repository. To gain access to that kind of information, he had to pay Repository Points but only after he became a Master. Knowing that Mistress Kalina became a Mistress at twenty-five, Tercius was not willing to wait that long.
So he turned to something he knew how to do. Collecting small bits here and small bits there and then trying to see a bigger picture through them, flaws and all.
In his search, Tercius had grown confident that the only true way to gain a skill that was good against active mind magic and skills was to provide active resistance to these effects, over and over again. And he didn’t want to do that, for various reasons. Someone would be essentially reading his mind, just to name one of the reasons.
But he had one skill that had proven itself able at countering the mind magic.
Meditation [60]
The skill was his highest leveled skill and it was even barrier-bound. That meant that he could now place another stamp of his own on the skill. A stamp that would hopefully give him more firm protection from mind magic. Sitting on dust covered boxes deep inside the recently white-lit basement, Tercius shared in a low voice the broad strokes of his recent knowledge about skills and skill barriers to a very interested audience.
It felt so good to finally talk to someone about some of his ideas and discoveries.
“—And I’ve even come up with a viable idea on how to modify my skill,” Tercius said.
Meditation was a skill that did a lot of things for him. From seeing wisps and getting Energy to calming him when he was troubled, over the years it had been a faithful companion and a chill pill when needed.
It was a skill that allowed Tercius to be in one place where thoughts ruled supreme, where physical pain faded there and emotions grew numb, leaving him free and unbothered— and that was why he thought that the skill could influence mind magic.
It was also the only skill that was taken over the barrier via the method the rest of the planet used. Now that he thought about it, Meditation had gotten its first evolution from Visualization. What was the impact of that?
Tercius left the question for later.
Now was the time to plan for the future.
“Do tell,” his grandfather urged him.
"Well, the skill has already shown that it can counter the influence of that kind if I'm there to do it. The biggest issue is that if I didn't check while under the special environment that the skill allows for, I would have missed the tampering attempt entirely,"
“I see,” his grandfather nodded, while he stroked his bare chin. “So now you aim to correct that,”
“Oh,” his mother caught on.
“I don’t know how much the original purpose of the skill can be changed during these evolutions, but an alert of mind magic activity seems minor enough to just slightly bend but not break the skill,” Tercius explained. “What do you two think?”
As his grandfather pondered the question with a deep frown, his mother already had an idea.
“You should first do another skill to see how far you can push this… evolution of barriers,” Petra suggested. “I would take a skill that I wouldn’t mind ruining and then think of something completely outlandish to add to it. If it doesn’t work, you try something else until it works. It’s how I created all of my good pie recipes,”
Tercius thought it over and nodded. It was a fantastic idea! He had a few skills that he didn’t mind breaking.
“An excellent idea,” Tercius said and his mother smiled. “You two should also think about your skills and what we’ve been talking about. Don’t forget, all of this also applies to you. Oh! I need to tell you both something about grandmother and her condition. This also applies to both of you—”
***
It was twenty minutes later that Petra, Ciron, and Tercius left the now adequately lit basement and found that night was almost there. They had stayed in the basement for almost a complete hour and he had shared most of what he wanted to share. Next on his list was to get Mistress Kalina to make the potions for Petra and Ciron and then feed it to them, by force if necessary and then a day or two to power-level his present family members. Maybe break a few barriers, who knows?
“— I’m sure that they will be here soon,” Seliana’s voice stated patiently, just as they came to the inner garden where Penelope played with Leo. Aurelia sat next to them, gently petting Amber just like Tercius showed her earlier in the day.
“There you go,” she said, waving at them. Aurelia stood up and ran towards Tercius, only to jump at the last minute and hang herself around his neck. Little Leo stood up and walked towards Petra with outstretched arms and she handed Portia over to Ciron, before taking him in her arms.
“Thank you for looking after the children,” Petra said to Seliana and gave a similar nod of appreciation to Penelope.
“It was my pleasure. It’s a wonderful family that you have here,” Seliana said and gave him a look. “No wonder that Tercius missed you every day,”
“He did?” Petra asked with an emotional choke and looked at him with misty eyes. “Ohh…”
“She’s exaggerating,” Tercius said. “Once a week is far more accurate.”