The next day, following Danger's advice, Jak joined a history class. The elder giving the class seemed like a piece of history himself, with a hunched frame and white beard so long that Jak wondered if he had lived through each of the periods he talked about.
"Let us continue our discussion on the Arcane War." He said in a soft voice. "There are certain nuances that may fade with time, but as we continue to retell the stories, the simple truths become clearer, the lessons more defined in their importance."
He would be a good bed-time story teller, his voice rising and falling in gentle waves. Jak felt his eyelids drooping as the professor meandered through the significance of something or someone. He was drifting off to sleep when some words cut through the haze and shook him awake.
"...in the last battle, which eliminated both soulstealers and high mages from the world completely. Some say it was the conclusion of the Arcane War, while others argue that the real conclusion was the invention of crafting, which distributed power to the common man, although 'common man' is a debatable term since it is only the—"
"Sorry, Elder," Jak interrupted with a raised hand, "could you explain those terms? Soulstealers and high mages?" The elder gave him a long look, annoyed to be interrupted.
"Were you listening at all, boy?"
"...yes." Jak said with a straight face. It seemed to work, as the elder harrumphed but answered his question.
"High mages, true mages, are those who do not inherit their magical strength but are the very start of a new magical bloodline. They were the ancient rulers, simply because nobody had the strength to tell them what to do. As with all kingdoms, there were benevolent rulers and tyrants, although the latter was more frequent."
"The less popular rulers stirred up a rebellion from the soulstealers. These were men with dark powers, they could pull the life out of you. Steal your soul, so to speak. Or, perhaps, they were simply angry men willing to bend the truth to create a reputation. Everything the mages stood for, the soulstealers stood against. The core of a mage's strength is magic. The core of a soulstealers strength is the absence or destruction of magic. From the historical texts, the goal of the soulstealers was to remove magic from the world, so every mage was their enemy. Later it was argued that their target was not magic but simply the ruling class, which at the time were mages, so you can see the confusion there. I myself believe that there was some small anti-magic power, which they over-inflated to create a fearsome reputation. The people would cling to the winning side, you see, so the soulstealers needed them to believe in the impossible—that the mages could be overthrown."
"Were they?" A girl near the front asked. The elder sighed.
"In a manner of speaking, yes. But the destruction was mutual. There hasn't been a high mage or a soulstealer for the last 500 years. The gifted ones among us are simply descendants inheriting a fraction of that power. I have heard rumors, but never actually seen 'soulstealer magic' myself, so it has either died out completely or it never existed in the first place. Now, let us get back on topic. The importance of poetry in the life of high mage Ernald cannot be understated. His perception of rhyme and use of colors is most..." Jak's eyes glazed over once again, and he slipped into a deep sleep for the rest of the class.
He dreamed he was running through a forest, a sea of animals running with him, all away from booming explosions that shook the earth. The sky was filled with smoke that glowed red. Alya was running next to him, tears streaming down her eyes. A maniac laughter filled the air, somehow piercing even the sound of explosions. They weren't going to make it.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Jak woke with a start. He hadn't had that dream for a while now, but it still came back from time to time. He looked around. The class was over and students were filtering out of the room, some saw him waking up and laughed as they walked out. The elder was looking at him with a pointed frown, clearly displeased Jak had drifted off. Jak ducked out of the room and headed to find his friends. In his mind, he couldn't shake the laughter from the dream, nor the elder's words about soulstealers.
"Every mage was their enemy."
Jak couldn't help feeling he was in the wrong place.
***
"You still have another tusk." Tim said with a grin, as Jak sat down for lunch. Alya looked confused.
"You want a spear? I didn't take you for a fighter." She asked. Tim shook his head.
"No, no, Jak is my weapon. If I fight my own battles, what kind of nobleman does that make me? I might as well start caring for the poor and paying taxes. I'm talking about making something else." He leaned in, as if to share a secret. Jak, Alya, and Bobo all leaned in too, and a button popped open halfway down Bobo's coat so his lower half could listen in too.
"Everyone is so obsessed with weapons." Tim whispered. "Every invention is just a way to win the next war. I want to see bigger than that."
"Bigger... like chocolate?" Alya whispered back.
"Precisely. To make things like chocolate, we need to improve our skills, our abilities. One part of that is our potential, and the gifts from the silver rod. But another part is to craft items. That's what this school is all about, right?"
Jak nodded thoughtfully. The elite guard training didn't seem to have anything to do with crafting, but the goal of the guard was to protect the crafters, so he supposed it all tied together. There was also the matter of hunting. He would start that with the coming field trip.
"So, we're together now," Tim said, looking at each of them in the eye, "a team. We have different skills, and if I dare say so myself, we're getting pretty good at what we do. Let's go further. As a team, focus on helping each member be the best they can. Are you in?" He asked with an air of finality, like there was a big plan he was about to bring everybody in on.
"I'm in." Alya said without hesitation.
"We're in." Bobo whispered with two voices.
"I'm confused," Jak said, "but sure, I'm in. What cult have I just joined?"
"The cult of Tim." Tim said knowingly.
"The first step is to increase my alchemy. Many potions involve heating something over a fire, but the results depend on exact heat. We have big alchemical forges that let us siphon a controlled amount of fire under a beaker, but seeing Jak's spear, I'm thinking we can make something portable yet precise." Tim turned to Bobo. "Is this something you think you can do?"
Bobo paused to think. "Do you need to chill things as well? Make it cold?" Tim blinked.
"Well, yea, but that would be a separate device wouldn't it?"
"If we can invert the circuit," Bobo said slowly, thinking on it, "we can pull fire out of the glass as much as put it in. Alya, instead of just producing fire, can you move it around?"
Instead of talking, Alya simply lit her goblet on fire, then pulled the fire away from the goblet and onto her plate.
"No magic in the dining hall!" Someone yelled from the kitchen. Alya winced, and the fire went out.
Bobo and Alya left shortly after, still discussing the way Bobo's circuitry could contain Alya's magic and shift the density into different degrees of heating. Tim watched them go with something of a fatherly smile, despite being just a year or two older.
"Bobo didn't stutter a single word today."