"I..."

"You are nobody is who you are," Penta cut him off. "You are a no-name half- knight who coasted off better fighters and rode his way up from the slums of whatever backwater town you're from ."

Fuck off! he wanted to say. He'd met people like Penta before--self-righteous bullies who thought they could walk over everybody because they were born lucky. He wouldn't have suffered fools like her before he joined the army, but now he was a knight and she was a superior officer and right, so he apologized instead as he rose to his feet. "I shouldn't have tried to experiment on my own. I got carried away."

"You experimented!" she roared; her eyes spat fire.

"I thought..." Seth shrunk back, realizing how badly he'd messed up, but he was too late. She yanked on his combat fatigue before he could get far enough away, swept him off his feet, and pounded him so hard into the ground he felt his brain rattle. The pain from the hit barely registered.

His vision was swimming, his ears pounding, but he heard and saw them across the training grounds, protesting.

"What are you doing!" Ellie yelled and stopped channeling, killing the floating motes of light gathering on her fingers.

"You're hurting him!" She stepped forward but Nyssa raised her hands to stop her.

"Get back to training," she barked. "Instructor Penta is educating him, you're not to interfere."

"You won't stop me!" Ellie roared and lit up her runes.

Brick ambled up beside her. "It was a simple mistake. Hardly requires her to send him to the healing tent."

Sera stopped practicing too and opened her mouth to speak, but Nyssa shut them all down. "Get back in line, all of you! That is an order."

Penta's stern voice pulled Seth's attention back to focus.

"You are never, ever, ever to practice rune magic without supervision. What the hell do you think we're here for! You could have gotten yourself injured or worse, taken down one of the other students with you. You might be the General's golden boy, but he will not hesitate to string you up by your fatigues if you risk the life of people depending on you."

She yanked him up. "Set your ego aside. There won't be a second warning." He staggered for a minute or two, just shaking back the sense back into his head. When he was clear enough to stand, she noticed Penta never left.

"Did you think I would leave you all by yourself after what you did?"

She huffed, not waiting for his answer. "Close your eyes and listen this time."

Seth obeyed despite himself and allowed her voice to guide him this time, but all the while he listened, he couldn't help but feel some small joy.

Things were different between them now, but it was comforting to know they'd still stick out for him regardless of their strengths. He'd hope he could count on that generosity in the future.

The argument with the Instructor had died out now, everyone going back to their channeling exercise. As Seth sunk deeper into the exercise, a thought came to him: perhaps there was hope for the Ravens after all.

--

Even after the earlier kerfuffle with Penta, Seth found his rhythm quick enough and activated his rune on the first try, the issue was he felt like he was about to explode.

Fuck. Why can't anything be easy.

At first glance, Rune Magic seemed almost simplistic. Knights activated their runes by guiding the right quantity of magic, at the right speed and concentration into their runes. For green knights, it was nigh impossible to mess up, glyphs tagged onto the runes gave intuitive knowledge and halved the control requirements. Standing perfectly still, with full focus on channeling, any idiot could make it work eventually. It got ridiculously difficult when you try to change up the formula and twist the spell or move with it.

Seth still struggled with the first bit-- making the rune actually work. Uvu, being the benevolent god he was, failed to add the glyphs that helped with control guidance, and so he spent the next three hours cycling through various quantities, speeds, and concentration, feeling the rune out.

Progress was excruciatingly slow and Penta yelled at him every five seconds or so for making a mistake and ordered him to start again. He was more than a little bit bitter as he watched his Sister, Brick, Sera, and all other knights in his year cycle through their new runes under the guidance of Nyssa.

They fired red fireballs, wind blades, light bolts, erected earth walls, spears, and teleport in across the stage in a single leap. When the lesson ended, he'd been so eager to leave, he almost missed Ellie's voice. She hurried up to join him, slowing his pace.

"I almost missed you. I didn't think you'd be excited by Magic History? I know I'm not."

Their third class for the day was Magic History, and it was thought of by an Old Earth Mage, Agast.

"Anything to get out of that class," Seth said, rubbing his neck. "At least in Magic History, I can't make a fool of myself. I stood still and looked constipated all while you channeled magic."

"You'll get better with practice," she smiled and nudged him, and he returned a shallow smile.

"I wanted to give you your space yesterday and the trip over this morning, but what is wrong with your runes?" She asked her face a mask of concern. "And at Judgement, the Uvu priest declared you a knight, though you only had two runes."

Seth passed to look at her, realizing that he'd not really spoken about it. He opened his mouth but the thoughts came out tangled "I... I don't entirely understand it all myself."

"Maybe if you asked the General..."

"I'd rather not talk about this," Seth said, looking away.

"Some other time, then." She touched his shoulder and strolled off, not East, towards the Magical History class, but to the Main tower. Seth didn't call after her.

Seth perched in a chair at the back of the class, hesitant to draw yet the attention of another teacher, and listened to the man speak. He was an old pruny mage with a droopy, saggy face and slow, droning voice. It almost distracted him from how interesting his class was. Agast spoke of the birth of Magical knights and how, under the guidance of Uvu, they reclaimed the fallen cities one by one until they pushed back the Vampires to Vraphen.

Seth was one of the few that found it interesting though, as the other knights battle-hardened and experienced as they were, nodded off after the second hour of lecture.

"Hundreds of cities and towns standing in the Empire were built on the ruins of the Old Vraphen Empire. It is all an elaborate cover-up," he said in his croony voice. "In fact, some ancient structures remain undiscovered till this very day, hidden by Vampire Illusion magic, woven by the Prince of Shadow himself, Alavar."

"Like the ruins at the foglands," Brick said, drawing the attention of the old foggy man. He was still awake and he sat beside Sera, whose mind seemed elsewhere. Agast squinted to get a better look at him.

"Not exactly. The spell woven on that cursed place was laid by another ancient Shadow mage like Alavar, and it was for a shade more than anything else. Alavar's magics are more malevolent. Hundreds of soldiers and knights have lost their lives investigating and purging his death traps."

Agast jowls dragged behind as he shook his head from left to right. "Why the General still sends people in there, I don't know. I'd rather bury it with a Tremor spell and be done with it."

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Seth's hand went up at the mention of the spell. There'd been something that'd been bothering him enough to risk drawing the attention of another instructor.

Agast eyes mechanically panned the room, as if looking for any other hands, before nodding to Seth.

"What is the difference between the type of magic you cast and the type we do?"

The question earned him a long look from the man.

"I understand that we use runes and you use words and spells, but how do each of them actually work."

Agast mulled over his question for a time, as if it was so thoughtful and profound, it required something more than a simple explanation. "Our magic and yours come from very different places," he said carefully. He waved his hands and muttered a slow spell. It was guruttal, almost inhuman and the floor of the little ventilated classroom shook and a small battered Plinth rose. On it, there were two carved figures.

"Yours come from the gods." The figure on the left lit up with soft yellow light. the future was of a being with bounding muscle, a titanic frame, and a flat head. It embodied Terra. "Creatures like me, blessed with enough mana to tap into the mana current that permeates our world and deep enough in their study that Gaia herself gave them divinity and made them eternal."

"Our magic comes from the Gaia."

The second lit up a blinding neon-green that filled the room and woke the sleeping knights. Some cursed, others shielded their eyes. "She is the Godmother and the true source of magic on Terra." The light spread from her small silhouettes in branches through the Splint and at one juncture joined and corrupted the bounding figure of the god.

Anvi had come alive in his explanation. His skin was less pale, his posture straighter, and his eyes clear. "With Elde tongue, the first Speak, our wills and hands, we lessen the burden of weaving magic, and we are virtually limitless in what we can make with enough time and talent."

All of a sudden, he seemed to fold back into himself, dimming altogether. "You knights, on the other hand, only need your wills to weave the spells given to you. You are forever bound by your Empire and god, and so is your growth. You might twist and bend the spells given, but you will never grow beyond what they've decided."

The sitting knights stared at him, their faces pale. Seeing this, his voice returned back to a level pitch and he said in his droning voice. "Of course, this limitation is a blessing in disguise. Your development is personally nurtured by the Empire and a deity, you are given mastery of spells in a few short years, and will reach your peak far sooner than vampires or Mages. All of these are great things for the Empire."

The knights didn't look any better. The Agast speech left all except one knight moody.

"What's with the faces," Gord Goldstein beamed. "We'll be Arch knights before we're thirty!" He was a pasty young knight with odd mannerisms and an even odder skin and face. He was half-netean, and his face was like dull gold; it only twinkled sometimes when he smiled at just the right angle. He was the bastard son of Lord Goldstein, and aside from the occasional gold allowance, he heard nothing from his Father. Seth didn't pity him. That was more gold than he'd ever gotten from his father.

Seth didn't understand how Agast hadn't disturbed Gord. It wasn't entirely what he'd said as much as how he said it. He pitied them, the proud, noble knights of Brightmont.

"Was the answer satisfactory?"

Seth looked up to find Agast standing directly in front of him. He cocked his head, waiting.

"Yes... it was satisfactory." Seth smiled at the instructor. He had a feeling he would like History Class.

--

"There it is," Seth whispered.

It was just before sunset and the Sun was past its zenith, tucked behind a small gathering of clouds. Seth stood in front of a dominating structure, geometric and laid in Darkstone. It merged with its evening shadow, casting a long shadow of black. It was grand, oppressive, and powerful --- all of what runescriving was-- all he wanted to be.

Sucking in a deep breath, he walked towards the metal gates, with a small bag tucked behind him. It contained all the texts he'd managed to gather since he started studying runes four years back. He didn't know if his new Instructor would think it important, but he thought it best to be prepared at meetings like these. He was in his best robes, his hair coiffed and oiled. The message he'd been handed by the messenger that morning asked him to be there by Sunset and he'd been nearly late.

The doors swung open for him as he reached out, the handles glowing, and it took some effort to stifle his excitement. There would be better things to come and he could not gape at every little thing. First impressions were important.

His jaw dropped no sooner had he taken a step into the welcoming chamber. Glowing artifacts floating above discs hovered above large gold-colored crystals, tracing long lines that joined at the feet of a massive desk. The walls were a mix of white and dark stone and carried multicolored runes that burned with constant light. It led Seth's eyes upward to a large runic tapestry on the ceiling. It was the largest and most complicated he'd ever seen before. It clicked and moved and shifted colors. It was made entirely out of Light mana.

"Welcome to the Medzka's Workshop of Wonders, how might I be of service," he heard a voice drone out. It came from the table at the end of the room, and it'd carried through despite the low pitch and obvious disinterest, but it'd nearly startled him all the same. He nearly dropped his bag.

"I am here to see Master Medzka. I am to be his new student." His voice came out even and carried through the hall. Sound Magic, Seth realized with a small smile.

"The Master hasn't accepted new students in years," the pitch was louder now and undoubtedly masculine, if a bit mousy. "Your letter of recommendation will be no good here. Save me the paperwork and turn back."

Seth squinted and made out the figure of a thin pasty-skinned young man with large round spectacles and dirty blond hair. He wore fine silk robes, finer than his.

"I don't have a letter of recommendation, the General didn't give me one," Seth said and watched the pale man squirm before he comported himself. Seth started pacing towards him.

"You're the half-knight from Blackfire," he crooned.

"In the flesh." He could see the man clearly now, and he had a frown on his face he didn't care to hide. His table was larger than he'd realized and taller. Seth had to look up to him.

"I would like to meet Master Mekdza if that is possible."

"A moment," he said tersely and scribbled something on a long parchment with white ink.

"An apparition will be with you shortly."

"An apparition?

The pasty receptionist's face twisted even deeper. "You know nothing of the Master do you?"

Seth folded his hands defensively. "He's General Roko's chief Runescriver, and a well-respected Artificer. I think that is information enough."

His glasses shivered on his little face. "Do you even know how to read elemental runes or were you just handed this studentship?" He was turning red, and looked like he had more to say. Seth didn't care to hear it.

"I earned my place," he snapped. "Have you ever had to pick up a blade or have people fought all your battles for you?"

The receptionist cowed back, taken by his sudden change. Fuck that. To hell with first impressions. He could take insults from an instructor and superior, but not another junior knight or receptionist.

The receptionist opened his mouth to defend himself but he was interrupted by a voice accompanied by a blinding flash. "Now, now, Dale. That is no way to treat a fellow student, especially, not one the General placed in my charge."

The light waned to reveal a Neatean man in flowing robes decorated with golden lines and tasteful jewelry. He wore an earring on his left ear, diamonds, and gold necklaces, and just above his head a rune circle floating, and turning slightly.

"Welcome to my wonderous workshop!" he said with a warm smile. "I've been expecting you."

Seth stared at the man, awestruck, his eyes fixed on the runic wheel. Medzka laughed. "Every single time. I will entertain only a single question, but nothing on Light constructs. They'll take too long to get into."

"You... teleported?"

Medzka golden brows tightened. "I specifically just said no questions on light constructs. I hope you're not one of those rebellious types? He spoke with a clear distaste in his voice.

He was a proud one, Seth surmised, but powerful men often were "I... had no idea. Pardon me, Master Medzka, but I am not sure what Light constructs are..." It was better to be ignorant than obtuse.

Medzka looked at Seth like he was on fish with two feet. "You are joking?"

He spun to face his assistant before Seth could explain, but not with his two feet. The ring on his head spun, and like a top, he swiveled. "Dale, he must be joking?" 

"I'm afraid not, Sir. " Dale drawled. "He's not been formally educated." He passed a look at Seth. "Self-taught apparently."

"Self-taught," Medzka's face soured and he shook his head. "That simply won't do." He swiveled back, faster this time.

"Tell me all you've read," he demanded.

"Elemental Runology, volumes One and Two," Seth started, a bit taken back, but he found his confidence easily enough. There was no use being embarrassed. He knew little about Runescriving, that was he was there.

"Albon's Basic Runetheory 1, Runeology, History of Runes and their meaning."

"That is all?" Medzka asked, sounding more irritated.

"It...is," his voice came out smaller this time. Dale wore a dark grin.

"The General promised he was sending someone special. I see that he has not been entirely truthful. How did you manage a personal letter of recommendation?" Medzka sounded upset.

"By proving to him I deserved one," Seth said somewhat defensively and Medzka raised a brow. "I don't expect you to trust me, or hold me in particularly high esteem, but I would ask you to give me a chance to prove myself."

Medzka stared at him for a long moment before he said. "The General would give me grief if I didn't."

"Dale," he called, without taking his eyes off Seth. "Give him the list of requirements we give the applicants, and the First-year curriculum too." He said directly to Seth "You said you proved yourself to him, so impress me. You have one month."

There was a flash of light and he was gone. Seth stood there, frozen. What just happened.

"Don't just stand there, you heard him!" Dale gabbed. "You have a lot of reading to do." He pulled a full parchment from under his desk and waved it impatiently.

Seth walked towards the desk, his mind still churning. He needed lots of silver and time and help, and even then, it might not be enough.

He looked up at Dale, who lazily held out the parchment raw as is. He hadn't bothered rolling it up. Seth reached up for it, and just as his hands touched it, he let it slip.

"Oops," he said.

Seth looked up at the man and considered climbing up there and wringing his neck, and he hoped from his glare, he could see that.

"I hope to see more of you, Dale." Seth bent down and scooped up the parchment and flipped around.

"I will see you in one month," Dale called out, and Seth breathed.

"Though I suspect, I won't," he added as the metal doors yawned open.

Seth set his jaw but didn't look back.