Vin put the weapon arts quest on the back burner and asked Hughton to teach him about magic instead. The man's attention was split between him and areas around the room that'd faced the rampage of the two guards. Soon, several ornaments broke from a shelf and rolled below the Warden's feet. Vin watched him eye them but snapped his head away as if resisting something. At first, Vin guessed the objects triggered a dark memory for the man, so he kicked them under the bed to help his recently deemed instructor refocus. The moment he did, Hughton bucked forward, tightly pulled the cloth of Vin's shirt, and flared his pointed teeth. "What are you doing?!"

Vin raised his brows, then slapped the hand off of him, "What's your problem?"

There was a sharp shattering across the chamber where a vase had broken, and Hughton tensed and stuffed his bottom lip in his mouth. He'd been writhing in some kind of unknown internal strife, and seeing their face becoming redder, Vin took a step back and looked for a weapon.

There was another thud as an object hit the floor and the strings of Hughton's patience snapped. He turned toward the other two young men and boomed, "I can't take it anymore! Stop making a mess!"

Hughton frantically dropped to pick up the fallen ornaments, placing them in an empty container. Then he dashed across the room, neatly placing fallen books and various decorative items on a desk. He readjusted artworks that'd tilted off Center, then stormed over to the young guards who'd frozen in awe, yelling, "You two! Make yourselves useful and answer Vin's questions while I clean up this mess!"

"I'd watch what you say if I was you," Snapped Gideon. He exuded an aura of malice, one that'd cause Vin caution. However, the seasoned Warden easily roamed over to Jazzy and Tristen, picking them both up by their shirt collars and saying, "I've been lenient with you because of our circumstances, but if you break anything else, I'll-"

Hughton halted momentarily and turned toward his human savior to measure their temperature. Vin caught the man's sights, then shrugged; violence was in their nature; he wouldn't bother to intervene. The graying man took Vin's indifference as clearance to throw the two young Ravenours up with so much force that their heads hit the wooden high ceiling and broke through like darts, leaving their lower bodies dangling down.

Vin shook his head, sighed, and continued reading alone while the group bickered. Eventually, things quieted, and while the Warden obsessively cleaned the room, the two guards gloomily reported to Vin as told.

He got what he wanted and more. Tristen talked his ear off, disclosing there was more than one way to learn magic; the most common was through items that stored it, like scrolls and spell books, followed by learning from an instructor. Ravenors had a low affinity for magic, and only a slim percentage of their people were mages, so he'd be at a loss trying to find a magic teacher there.

Magic in this world is when senses materialize in reality. So, magic scrolls tended not to be explanations or incantations but memories. According to Tristen, the creator of a spell does all the hard work to invent it, and then they save the successful motions and steps onto an object. Obtaining a scroll would allow the user to relive the creator's motions and how they channeled magic through their body to produce a spell. The idea of a memory being stored on paper alone was hard to believe, yet it was supposed to allow someone to do something wild, like cast lightning from thin air.

Tristen saw Vin was unconvinced, then smiled cheekily before summoning his Journal and conveying that he'd demonstrate. Gideon lamely shook his head disapprovingly but let his companion indulge himself.

"My parents left me a magic scroll, so I learned a spell pretty early," explained the youthful Ravenour, who excitedly tore a page and held it upright on the ground. He concentrated on the sheet before releasing their hand, and the paper stood upright even after.

Gideon exhaled, barking at Tristen, "Take this seriously. We're supposed to be teaching him about magic, not wasting time on meaningless sp-"

"What's stopping it from falling over?" Vin interrupted. His eyes opened, and he kneeled beside Tristen, thoroughly examining the magical act.

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Tristen glowed, a grin stretching across his face. "Well, this spell centers the gravity of objects, so it's superficially balanced unless a force knocks it over!"

Vin tilted his head, puckered his lips, and blew wind at the paper, yet it continued to stand. "Awesome."

"My parents left the scroll to me. I can teach you this magic, too!" Tristen said gleefully. Vin excitedly responded, "Really? It's that easy?"

"Yes, I'm sure they'd be happy to know someone besides me learned their spell." Tristen opened his Journal and showed Vin a page with a picture of a magic circle. Vin studied it while questioning, "You said it was a scroll?"

"The original spell was scribed on a scroll, but I didn't want to lose it, so I had my Journal copy it to the spell tab."

"So that's what that tab is for," Vin murmured. Tristen went on a rant about the magic and its uses. Meanwhile, Gideon privately communicated with Vin. The man thanked him for pretending to be interested in Tristen's impractical spell. Gideon told him that Tristen's parents developed the spell themselves. It seemed that decades ago, the King ordered any Ravenour with the potential for magic to create spells to aid their war against the Elves. The couple spent most of their life on that project, and they were proud of their creation; however, once they presented it at the royal court, they were killed for wasting the elite's time.

Vin felt a weight of darkness drop to his lower gut. Gideon saw his shift and asked, "Why do you look sad? You've never even met them."

"Do I need to have met them to have sympathy?"

"Evidently not. Human."

'Aggravating.' Vin thought. The blatant racial superiority they emitted was vexing. Vin tuned back into what Tristen was saying, which wasn't vital, so he urged them onward. The antsy Ravenour brought their Journal up to Vin's magic circle, and the spell "Center Gravity" was copied into his spell tab.

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[Spells:]

1) Center Gravity

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Touching the drawing of the magic circle triggered a memory. It was more incredible than he expected. He could see and feel a foreign hand hovering over a leaf. Feel the flow of magic travel through this person's veins and from their palm toward the plant, forcing it to stand. It was as if he were that passionate individual, commanding a new magic.

The memory ended, and while it was fresh, Vin tested it himself. Tristen gave him early consolation, telling him it takes a lot of practice to remember the exact sensation. He'd spoken too soon; by the time the Ravenour finished his sayings, the paper was already balanced underneath Vin's palm.

Tristen's mouth unhinged, and he hollered, "How! It took me months to learn this spell?"

Vin glanced at the young guard and replied in a level tone, "The person who created this memory did a good job."

Tristen turned to hide his face, but a sniffle escaped him, and he softly spoke, "Yeah... I think so, too."

"Alright," Gideon said, "That pretty much sums up general magic. There are magics made with elemental affinity, too, in which case, there will be scrolls you can't employ because of your fire affixation. Moreover, most useful spells are guarded in armories or magic academies."

That was fine; Vin was content with what he'd learned. It was remarkable enough to learn something as unreal as magic in the first place. Now, the most important thing was how he'd get to Earthia. Gideon checked the map and calculated a year's journey to the human settlements. The other method used was a teleportation circle. However, the only magic site was half a day's travel from the town and took trained mages to operate. Seeing Vin's position, convincing mages to allow him to escape was slim.

Ultimately, Gideon requested they wait until the King's daughter, Maeve, arrived. Vin had lucked out by being able to communicate with those three Ravenours, but he wanted to understand more of his situation and what others were saying. So, he flipped to the last page of the Journal, which was blank, and labeled it Vulcan, the language of Ravenours.

A new page grew beneath it the moment he wrote on one, providing an endless paper supply. Since he and the three in the room had a mental method of communication, he'd be able to quickly absorb their language.

Over the course of the next few hours, several visitors arrived to meet with the Warden. It seemed he had quite the reputation among those people. Tristen gladly translated conversations to Vin, which mainly plots against the opposing faction. He just spent most of the new day studying the language and taking breaks to practice recalling the memory of the Center Gravity spell.

Hours had passed since the night of his rude awakening, and he was killed. He felt the mental exhaustion, yet he couldn't shut down. Not with so much swirling around his head. Second dimensions, war, magic, Gods, and home, there was no end to the supply of problems in that world.