The four of them had some free time, so they decided to go to a class together. While most classes were focused on a primary field, and were only useful to students in that field, there were a handful of "secondaries", classes with no particular affiliation that anyone could join. They walked into a classroom and sat down at the back just as the Elder started to teach. With a start, Jak realized it was the old man from the ferry. The one who had spoken inside his head when he touched the Silver Rod.

"Hello everyone, I see some new faces among us, my name is Elder Featherwick. I am the head of runework and circuitry, and I am the High Elder of Elwind. Today will not be a class on circuitry, but rather on philosophy. Now. Who here can tell me if it would be wise to give a sharp knife to a baby?" Elder Featherwick's gaze swept the room. The question seemed a little obvious, but the students were a little shy, not wanting to get caught out. "Hmm? Wise or unwise?" Jak tried to remember how old he was when he first held a knife. Much of his childhood was fuzzy.

"Unwise." Tim called out.

"Excellent, boy, excellent. Can you tell me why?"

"The baby might hurt itself, or others."

"Ah, indeed, so let me ask another question. Giving a sharp knife to a grown man. Wise, or unwise?" There was another pause, this time not out of shyness but thoughtfulness.

"Wise." Somebody called out.

"Wise?" Featherwick asked, "but surely the grown man is even more capable of hurting himself or others? He has much more strength and dexterity than a baby."

"He has the wisdom to not hurt himself, so he can use the knife for useful things like hunting or preparing a meal." Jak said, joining in. Elder Featherwick nodded thoughtfully.

"Do we know his wisdom beforehand, though? Perhaps he is insane, or blinded with rage. Can this man be given a knife? What if he's not guaranteed to be a crazy stabbing killer, but there is a small chance he is? Do we give the knife to an unknown stranger, not knowing their intentions?" The old man looked around the classroom. "Perhaps not." He said softly. "Perhaps not."

"Now, here at Elwind academy we are producing sharp knives. We can make poison strong enough to kill a man instantly. We can make a bow that shoots fire and lightning instead of normal arrows. We can, but should we? To whom should we give these sharp knives? Do we know if a buyer is a baby, or a man? Insane, or with wisdom?"

"Heed my words, students. As you begin your crafting journey, feel free to sell or distribute whatever you make. But as you grow in skill, I implore you, take some discernment in what you decide to make, and what happens to the item once you make it." Elder Featherwick looked down at his hands and sighed, and his voice growing very soft. "Some of my closest friends have died, to men wielding my own inventions..."

***

They left the class a little subdued. There was still an hour of sunlight left, so they decided to walk around the fields, near the edge of the forest. They took Ash with them, the young moonwolf happily yapping as he wove around the trees. He was growing, even in just a few weeks Jak noticed the difference. He also seemed more excited as the moon grew full, which Jak supposed made sense, given the name moonwolf.

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Jak told them about the Glove and how excited he was to improve and get better. Alya said she was doing really well, and Elder Brightspark—the head of magic herself—said Alya was not far from stage two already. Violet, the second strongest mage in their class, was far behind and furious about it.

"What do you think the stages really mean?" Jak wondered aloud.

"It's a measure of your power, I think." Tim replied. "No, it must be more than that. When you guys touched the Silver Rod, you could gain something right? Some skill or ability? Like I gained my luck. And you gained... hey Jak what did you gain?

"I gained the ability to blend in." Jak said, trying to wink meaningfully at Tim so he'd get the drift that it was related to his hidden aura.

"Oh, yea that's right, how about you Bobo, what skill did you get?"

"Uh, I, uh, also gained the ability to blend in..." Bobo said nervously. The others went silent for a moment, taking in Bobo's strange features, short height, lack of hair, and squeaky voice. _If this is blending in, what was he like before?_ Jak wondered.

"Oh, ha, I see it." Tim said weakly. "Alya, how about you?"

"I can create a small fire out of nothing, instead of needing a source to start it from." She said with a smile, holding up a hand and producing a tiny candle flame above each finger. Bobo looked shocked. He hadn't seen her use magic previously.

"I've never seen such control." He squeaked. "Do you th— I wonder if we— I mean—" Tim gently slapped him on the cheek.

"Use your words, Bobo."

"Right. I mean. Do you think we could make something together? I can do crafts and runework, everything up to the stage of adding the spell, but that's the problem. I can't actually do any magic. Do you think—"

"Yes!" Alya cried out. She looked as excited as he did. "That sounds amazing!" She gave Bobo a big hug, which made fear flash over his eyes. Alya stopped, as something felt off. Bobo wore a big cloak that hid his body, and when she hugged him it felt... not the right bumps in the right places. Almost as if Bobo was a pregnant woman, or had a very strangely shaped body.

"Are you ok?" She asked.

"Yes, oh, haha. I'm ok." Bobo replied, not looking ok. "That's great Alya, thank you. I will, ah, be in touch." With that he hobbled off, back to the cottage for the artificers. Jak frowned, noticing how Bobo ran with a very short stride, making lots of little steps.

They finished the day with Alya practicing with fireballs while Jak and Tim did some target practice with throwing knives. Jak was happy to show how much he'd improved with all his training. Tim was surprisingly good at it too, although he was entirely cheating. Tuning into his luck skill, in a sort of meditative trance, he would throw his knives with his eyes closed. It was slow, and needed all Tim's concentration, but the blades often found their mark. Jak won in the end, but only just.