My friends were waiting outside; their amazed smiles made it obvious they already knew. "Rowena Loress." Blake shook his head. "Only you could fail the practical test and then accidentally bribe your way into a pass."

"We should celebrate!" Bessie clapped her hands together.

"Oh, no. I must regretfully decline," I said. "I have a most pressing engagement." Feeling their curiosity and skepticism, I added, "In the library."

I was absolutely looking forward to some break days of just studying among my books. But despite what my friends probably thought, this wasn't my main motivation for hurrying back to my sanctuary. However, when I could not find what I was seeking, I did curl up with a book for some time, refueling my reserves by way of reading.

"Rowena."

I looked up, and there was that familiar wise old face, topped by those graying curls. Senior Rubrik sat beside me and inquired, "Katherine said you were looking for me?"

I nodded. Learned Anderson had assured me she could pass along a message with no trouble; she and my mentor both had comm-crystals. But all of a sudden my throat felt tight. I didn't mean to sound accusing when I forced out: "Disciplinary review?"

"Ah." I'd hoped for confusion or denial, but instead his face fell. He seemed to realize there was no point trying to dissemble. "Yes, that is an unfortunate situation. Did she tell you?"

"No, it was..." Abruptly, I realized I had no idea who my interviewer was, though he now knew far too much about me. "Some powerful adventurer, part of my test. But why? And when?"

As always, Senior Rubrik took his time choosing his words, a habit I normally found endearing. "My mentorship methods have come into question, most notably, my sharing of restricted information and insufficient encouragement regarding your advancement in the guild."

"Wait," I said. "This is because of me?"

"No," he said firmly, "Except as you relate to my unorthodox decisions as your mentor. Understand I should ordinarily have been more strict with you, just as you should already be a Learned Scholar or well on your way. However, I believe you have had enough demands made of you. You are young in years, young in worldly experiences, young to our guild. I wished to support your growth as a whole person and not only as a Scholar."

He began polishing his glasses while I sat dumbly, absorbing this. Replacing them, he continued into the silence, "Additionally, I have not met another who loves academic literature as you do. You have a rare passion for learning. I feared shackling you with expectations and obligations would do you no favors."

He met my eyes calmly, while I looked back uncertainly. I wanted to believe I would love studying and reading even if they were activities assigned to me along with a deadline, but... I had to admit the idea held no appeal. "What about the... the restricted information?"

"I wished to share with you, to encourage your newfound initiative." He hesitated before adding, "And frankly, the intra-guild policy restricting information is inconsistently enforced. My confidentiality contract specifically made allowances for mentees to facilitate joint research."

I supposed my "gallivanting off with adventurers" -- who'd said that again? -- didn't qualify. "That makes sense, I suppose. Did you explain all that?"

"I did."

"And? You... you won't be disciplined, will you?"

He hesitated. My heart sank even before he said, "Most likely, you will be assigned a new mentor."

"What?" Only my ingrained respect for libraries kept me in my seat and my voice low.

He held up a hand to forestall further protests. "The guild is not unreasonable. The goal is to match you with a mentor who can excite your academic curiosity, and if either of you find you do not suit, you may seek reassignment. They will not unilaterally make such a choice without speaking to you, which they have delayed doing at my request."

"You asked to keep this from me?" I tried not to feel hurt, but... I didn't want another mentor! "Why?"

"You have been busy, and I considered a distraction might cost you." He cleared his throat. "How was your exam?"

In all the excitement, I had actually forgotten for a moment about my very busy day, culminating in my new rank. As I briefed him in full, I couldn't help feeling... well, guilty. After all, we had just discussed my stalled progress as a Scholar, for which he'd been blamed, and meanwhile I'd worked so hard to take the adventurer's Silver-Ranking test for which I was manifestly less qualified. Here I'd nearly felt betrayed he had kept secret his disciplinary hearing, all the while he'd thought only to help me... and probably saved me from an embarrassing failure. If I had felt then as I felt now, I doubted I could have maintained the single-minded focus that had carried me through this past month.

I was a natural Scholar, whereas it took so much effort to barely pass as an adventurer. Wasn't this backwards of me, playing to the exact opposite of my own talents and inclinations? Then again, how else could I have shored up some of my greatest weaknesses?

Or had I? As I stumbled through an explanation of how I'd agreed to become a Skill Advisor, my cheeks heated with self-consciousness.

As usual, Senior Rubrik was so... so supportive. Given my previous issues as a Path Advisor, he agreed, I did seem more suited to advising specifically on Skills. Certainly, Learned Anderson should negotiate on my behalf.

When he questioned my plans now I'd made Silver, I had to admit I hadn't considered that far. Actually, I thought I should like to sit out in the library for a time...

Except there was just one thing over which I was determined. I wanted to do something for my mentor for once.

The opportunity came not two days later, following a quick exchange of messages arranging an appointment. I was unsurprised to see the same orange-haired Executive Clancy but asked for clarification, "Are you assigned to me or something?"

The Executive took a seat, gesturing me to do the same. "To Senior Rubrik and by association you, yes."

I stiffened. "You're the reason for his disciplinary hearing?"

She looked at me coolly, her serious expression at odds with her face and hair that still reminded me of a pumpkin. "I raised the issue and presented my observations, yes."

I swallowed down a useless, reflexive surge of anger. Scholars were unlikely to be impressed by an emotional display; just the opposite. "He has been the best possible mentor to me."

"He has refused to push you to Learned or to treat you as a Junior," she countered, "Letting you do as you will, but then volunteering restricted information without asking for so much as a research proposal. You are far from his first mentee, and he truly should have known better, but he's allowed his personal sentiments to interfere with his official obligations."

Thankfully, I'd had time before the meeting to gather my arguments. "I've already signed the confidentiality contract. I think that effectively negates any earlier oversharing."

"It does not, and it is representative of a greater issue. He's neglected his responsibilities, both to the guild and as your mentor. We do not question he means well. He believes you unduly susceptible to external pressure, possibly especially from him, but that does not excuse leaving you open to such influence from another guild."

"Wait," I said, "This is because I joined the Adventurer's Guild?"

"Not entirely, but you might consider this from our perspective. Your affinities, your abilities, your grandmother... Whether in temperament or talent, you are clearly meant to be a Scholar. Yet Senior Rubrik, in his wisdom, has not only allowed you to drift from the guild but actively encouraged it, believing you should explore your options while you're young. That's fine as your friend and effective guardian. But as your official mentor in the Scholar's Guild, he has behaved inexcusably."

"Perhaps I've neglected my rank advancement for lack of time," I said, "But I haven't drifted from the guild! On the contrary, everything I've done has been towards my goal of conducting field research."

"If that is true, you have no need to look beyond the guild. You could apply for Executive training."

I could? I bit my lip, unsure if admitting my ignorance would reflect badly on my mentor, before admitting, "I'm also invested in my friends... my team."

Oh, she obviously wasn't happy to hear that. Glumly, I thought this felt like yet another floundering interview.

"Perhaps my Path is an unusual one," I said, "But I am a committed Scholar at heart. Just in my recent advancement exam, I gained [Enhanced Scribe]." I shamelessly tried to play off the widespread veneration for Skills. "I believe Senior Rubrik understands me, and I could only gain [Enhanced Scribe] so soon thanks to him. Because of our emotional connection and his encouragement to challenge myself."

"It is wonderful you two have grown so close," the Executive said with sincerity and regret, "But a mentor's role is intended to be primarily professional in capacity, overseeing the academic development and corresponding rank advancement of the mentee. Not to worry, however: Senior Rubrik can continue to offer you personal advice and encouragement. You may continue to live with him if you so choose. Everything can remain the same, except that you will gain an additional mentor to inform your progress."

She really sounded so reasonable. But no matter how she downplayed it, I knew my removal as Senior Rubrik's mentee would serve as a punishment and tarnish his reputation. Any successes on my part would not only be unattributed to him but further suggest his failure as my mentor. How could I publish papers or ascend in the ranks, knowing my achievements could hurt him?

Despite my best efforts, emotion leaked into my voice. "He recruited me into the guild!"

"That does not make him your best possible mentor." Executive Clancy by contrast exuded calm and control. "In fact, we have more than one Master Scholar in mind, though there is, ah, the issue of delicate egos, so we should prefer you decide your probable interest before meeting in person. Perhaps a Master already engaged in field research?"

I shook my head at this dangled carrot. She probably thought she was being incredibly generous... and I supposed she was.

I had to admit my reaction was based on sentiment rather than pragmatism. But I... I owed so much to Senior Rubrik. She'd dismissed him bringing me into the guild as irrelevant to the discussion, but he had been my lifeline when I'd stumbled into my freedom. He'd sheltered me, taught me... practically rescued me.

Was his reward really to be disciplined and replaced?

Taking a breath, I readied my final volley. "What if we made a bet? I will do my utmost to ascend to Learned within the year. And if I succeed, I will be allowed to keep Senior Rubrik on as my mentor."

Her eyes widened, evincing her first real show of surprise. I held my breath, waiting. I thought I'd handled that about as gracefully (or not) as Lord Didane; the noble would be proud.

"Interesting," she said slowly. "I'm not qualified to make that deal myself..." She studied me before shaking her head. "But yes, I believe I will deliver your proposal."

We ended the meeting like that. I wasn't thrilled to conclude one challenge only to immediately offer for another, but I told myself I wanted to become Learned anyway, earning access to a whole treasure trove of restricted information. Perhaps the added stakes would even help...

No wait, I was confusing the issue with gaining Skills. The only benefit here would be motivational.

I expected to fret until I heard back, but in fact I was kept too busy for other concerns. Senior Grace first ran me through my exercises again, removing and replacing runes, which after some brief adjusting was made so much easier thanks to my new Skill. Not that she didn't still find innumerable flaws to nitpick, but these were no longer such embarrassingly grievous mistakes.

Only once she was satisfied did she have me copy a Scroll of Mana Shield. This was accomplished simply by transferring my sellable Scroll onto a specially preprepared scroll of identical material and make, involving little more than activating and guiding the Skill.

I was confused by her choice of order at first, moving from difficult to considerably easier, but I soon realized that was the point. Using [Enhanced Scribe] in this way was so tantalizingly easy, it would be equally easy to fall into bad habits, taking lazy shortcuts. After all, copying a Scroll directly with the Skill took seconds, compared to what manually would take hours, and even saved mana in the bargain.

I wasn't terribly tempted, though, for three main reasons. First, the third-tier, Tier-4 Skill limited me to copying my own one-use Scrolls of my own Skills. Second, the copy could never surpass the original. Third, using the Skill in such a lazy way probably didn't count as training; I could copy a million Scrolls over a lifetime without ever seeing another upgrade.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Thus, the primary value of such a direct application of [Enhanced Scribe] was to sell copied Scrolls, which especially considering my Skills, could be lucrative indeed. After considering my options, I decided to start work on a Scroll of Advanced Appraisal; a single high-quality original to continually re-copy and I shouldn't ever need to worry about gold again, the gains limited only by my mana.

Senior Grace had little time or patience for such material concerns, but she finally agreed I was ready to try again at creating a multi-use Scroll. My long-ago attempt at making a multi-use Scroll of Mana Shield had been abandoned as unsalvageable, but with my greater experience and Skill, perhaps this time... Except I soon found she was nitpicking again just as though I'd never upgraded my Skill. Would the daily grind never end?

But I hadn't given up on that dream teleportation Scroll for secretly reentering Duni. Lately, I felt I needed it more than ever.

I've once more been denied access to the dungeon. Since it had been discovered in August, and this month of February thus marked exactly half a year, it was completely understandable that the new Gold-Ranked guards weren't willing to take any risks. What if Grimmark decided this was a fine time to check up on the new dungeon? I'd have laughed at their infamous paranoia... except this time they'd be right.

There was also frankly nothing my friends and I could do unless we wanted to report Duni ourselves, which at this stage might well be disastrous. At least the rat minions were behaving mostly normally again, swarming as usual regardless of whether I carried cheese, though their keen noses definitely noted the difference. Perhaps they'd regained the habit of swarming, a habit that held even with the removal of its cause?

In any case, even in the best-case scenario I was looking at another month like the no-Duni November. My friends also felt this absence, though not quite for the same reasons.

"Rena, it feels like you've finally joined our team officially," Bessie said, "Only we see you less than ever."

"Sorry? The Scholars are keeping me busy." I looked away, not wanting to admit I was also avoiding the Adventurer's Guildhall. I felt reluctant and embarrassed to tell them of my past returning to haunt me in their guild, or of the situation with Senior Rubrik, for two different but perhaps equally irrational reasons. I hadn't forgotten my interviewer's advice to talk to my team, but well, was there even any point? I really was busy.

In my defense, I had another exciting development occupy the remainder of my hours. Learned Westwick did not make time for me straight away like his mentor, but he also didn't jump straight to training with no pleasantries. He was excited I'd gained [Enhanced Scribe] but equally curious how I'd managed it, asking me to tell the whole story without omitting any details. "It can be relevant to your future training in [Scribe]."

"I hope not," I said fervently before describing defending against skitterskrews.

But his comment had given me pause, which he noticed. "You're not as overjoyed as I would expect?"

"I broke through in battle. Is that... what if that's what really challenges me?"

"Is that a problem? Don't you intend to continue as an adventurer anyway?"

I stared at him. Did he imagine I was a devoted adventurer? "Regardless," he said, "You should be proud of your accomplishment. If I didn't know better, I would think you had an affinity."

Actually, I sort of did. My affinity for Empathy no doubt enabled my current progress in Scribe... and I just realized Senior Rubrik only had [Enhanced Scribe]. (Only, ha!) To progress further faster, I would... probably need a Copyist Scholar.

But though I liked these strange Scholars more obsessed with the library than I was, I'd only ever seen them in a professional capacity -- same as how my mentor should've been, apparently -- which likely wouldn't qualify for the purposes of [Advanced Empathy]. I wasn't sure how to change that, either.

"Excuse me," I imagined saying, "Would you mind emotionally connecting with me so I might leech off your Skill? The same one that must have taken you years and years of dedicated study to build up? Think of it like extra teaching!"

"Are you all right?" Learned Westwick said, so I must have been making some expression.

"Umm," I said eloquently. "I... do you happen to know... I have [Advanced Empathy]."

He looked at me with quizzical incomprehension. Right, he was a Copyist. Of course he had no idea what I meant, plus he was refreshingly unconcerned.

I supposed I could and maybe should explain, but, well... frankly, it felt dreadfully embarrassing. And was it even possible to form a genuine emotional connection based on such ulterior motives? Was it worse if I tried to befriend him without telling him the truth, or if I burdened him with my unwelcome issues?

Alternatively, there was Senior Grace... The thought of that cranky old lady and her unrelenting work ethic made me shudder. Then Senior Okim...

Yeah, Learned Westwick was my only hope.

While I was still dithering, he completely derailed my line of thought with the words: "If you'd like, I believe we can start you on writing your own Skill Book."

I stared at him. "Already?"

"You have the necessary tools and, I hope, the talent," he said. "You will find by far the most important part of creating Skill Books is practice and persistence. And passion, but only insofar as that supports persistence."

"Oh! Then, of, of course! I would love to...!"

My unbridled enthusiasm lasted all the way until I actually started working on a Book. I once more tried first with [Mana Shield], my sole Tier-1. Since I was quite familiar with the Scroll, I hoped creating the Book version would be like compiling or otherwise combining prewritten short stories into a full-length novel.

I only wished I were writing a nonmagical book. At least I was confident I could create something intelligible in that case, instead of this... this coagulation of confusion falling apart under its own incoherence. I'd barely begun when I was already convinced I was unprecedentedly, unmitigatedly, insupportably awful.

Instead of horror or sympathy, Learned Westwick actually felt amused! "You can't tell me this isn't awful!" I waved at the scattered scraps of... that.

"Oh, it is," he said. "But frankly the first Book is always a mess. You'll never stop wanting to drop it and make something better, and you'll sometimes be right. But so long as you keep that attitude you will have a hard time finishing anything worth showing."

"I'd finish it if I could," I said. "But there's nothing there!" I shook my head glumly. "I cannot believe I am this awful."

"We're all of us far superior critics to creators," he said. "It's only natural considering our extensive experience as the former and comparatively little experience, if any, as the latter. Try not to judge your own early works too harshly."

"Was your first Book as bad as this, then?" I asked with shameful hope.

"Ah..." He scratched his cheek awkwardly, and my heart sank. "Remember my case is unusual. Should you really be comparing your Book-making abilities to a Copyist Scholar's?"

My face flushed as I did in fact realize the egocentricity of such presumption.

"My first was technically terrible." He shrugged. "But I had... I knew... what you might call the Book's soul."

"But if every Book is another Copyist Scholar's," I said slowly, "Won't my own always fall short of expectations?"

"As tends to happen when an amateur competes against professionals," he said dryly, before he relented. "We Copyists love Books, write them, copy them, and judge them. That does not make us the only or even primary original authors. The first Book must come from somebody possessing the Skill, ideally someone with a deep connection to it, who understandably is almost never a Copyist. Then we create our adaptations, which might surpass the original in certain technical aspects but will then typically lack something indefinable."

I nodded in understanding. So long as the copy was limited by the original... well, the rare work might be improved upon translation, but this was the opposite of the preferred order of things.

"Books are also not so simple as that," Learned Westwick continued, clearly lecturing on his very favorite topic. "The experience is highly subjective. You likely haven't studied enough Books to tell, but you might find you show a preference for a particular author's."

I frowned, thinking back to my studies. Each use of my SES could in theory involve a different Copyist's or even original author's Book, except when I studied Senior Okim's [Magic Hand]. However, I hadn't noticed any significant differences between my other experiences such as he was suggesting.

When I said so, Learned Westwick was unsurprised. "You most probably let your first experience color each of your subsequent ones. This is fine so long as you continue to make progress, but have you ever hit a bottleneck?"

I thought of untangling knots in [Mind Over Matter] and nodded.

"Did you overcome it only after a change in perspective?"

I nodded again, remembering how I'd worked with the knots, twisting them deeper.

"Splendid," he said in satisfaction. "Your breakthrough may be wholly because of your own efforts. Or it might be that you landed upon a particular Book. Sometimes it is both. I recommend, in the fortunate case of breaking through directly from a Book, that you locate and remember the Copyist and author."

What a wonderful notion! "Thank you," I said. "I'll do that."

He smiled back. "A similar principle applies to your own creations. Provided you create a complete and readable Book, you might find, no matter how dissatisfied you are with your work, that to somebody else it is beloved." His eyes misted over with dreamy recollection, as though gazing at the distant face of his muse. "Your unusual life should seep into your work. Senior Okim did say he was looking forward to observing the oddity..."

"Senior Okim?" I couldn't help my skepticism.

"He wouldn't have left you his SES if he weren't interested." He eyed me shrewdly. "I do not envy you, though your Skills have benefited. I prefer my adventures remain within the pages of Books."

I'd absolutely also prefer not to endanger myself. But I thought of my friends, of Nailla, of Duni. No, I could not return to those halcyon days. "Could I try a more suitable Book?" I requested. "You said passion can help. You must admit it is difficult to feel any such thing for [Mana Shield]. If the goal is to express my natural strengths, to convey my life experiences... then [Empathy]. My first ever Skill. I should like to try the Book for that."

Judging from Learned Westwick's reaction, he had anticipated this, perhaps planned it. And when I started on my new Book, it wasn't difficult to deduce why. This was in some ways easier and others more difficult than my starting attempt at [Mana Shield]. I felt considerably more invested, which was good, but it also made my still-awful work harder to bear.

I would have already given up again but for my innate belief this was my Book, the right one for me. If I, with my affinity for Empathy, my [Advanced Empathy], my life shaped by self-identifying as an Empath, couldn't write this Book... then who could?

The answer, of course, was that many others had. At my request, Learned Westwick procured some sample Books for [Empathy], and it was galling to admit these probable Copyists could better capture my own experiences. I felt like here I was toiling on an autobiographical account only to discover a stranger's impartial biography was much more successful at describing me. I was missing that ingredient that might raise my expressed experience above a talented Copyist's recreation.

"Continue," Learned Westwick said. "Finish it."

Ah, I already missed those days when I'd thought adventuring hard, Scholarly studies easy. I could see the stark divide between potential and actualization, which no amount of talent or desire could bridge for me. Only hard work, or Learned Westwick's patience and persistence, could achieve anything of note.

And I needed to succeed. If I couldn't even finish a Book for [Empathy], near and dear to my heart, how would I ever fulfill my obligation to the guild to write the Book for [Intermediate Universal Translation]? I normally avoided such thoughts, except when I contemplated giving up. This Book would be near worthless, I could already tell.

But I kept working on it.

Despite my difficult mental labors, I didn't entirely forgo physical exercise, and as I was avoiding the Adventurer's Guildhall I thus visited Nailla. She was neither happy nor surprised to hear of my encounter with the rusalka. "How does that work?" I asked her curiously. "Would you still recognize her as your sister?"

"Yes and no," she said, chewing on the raw fish I'd brought. "Do you not have members that leave your family? Sometimes through no fault of their own?"

I thought about this and suggested, "Like an in-law who divorces your relative?"

She had no concept of marriage and understood even less divorce, but she did confirm she continued to wish the best for her former sister... even if they would no longer swim together regardless. I found this sad, but Nailla was pragmatically focused on her remaining sisters. "She said nothing else? Has she grown land-brained?"

"We didn't have time or privacy," I said. "It might not be much, but Jeff said he'll look into it."

Thank mana she exhibited nigh inhuman patience. I'd surely have gone mad from sitting in a river all day for days on end, waiting and waiting. I kept myself purposely busy to avoid worrying over my own wait... which thankfully came to an end within the week.

"Junior Loress," Executive Clancy said. "Your suggestion has merited approval with qualifications. We will offer you until the end of this month to submit a proposal for an accreditation project that is accepted. During this time Senior Rubrik will remain your mentor."

"Less than a month?" I protested.

"Most Scholars would be eager to seek advancement. Your lack of motivation is astonishing."

"I'm not unmotivated," I said, "I'm busy."

"But not too busy for adventuring?" She shook her head before I could respond. "Apologies, that was out of line. I've personally watched over Senior Rubrik for nearly three decades" -- wow, she must be older than she looked -- "and this entire unsettled situation is irregular and highly troubling to me. I do hope you succeed and justify his immense faith in you. However, this isn't up for debate. You must submit an acceptable accreditation proposal by the end of February or you will be assigned a new mentor. Please acknowledge."

"I understand," I said.

The pressure my mentor had tried to spare me from wasn't only back but redoubled. I tried brainstorming different ideas, but nothing in particular spoke to me. My top contender at the moment was researching dungeons, which I could use my shiny new Silver Rank to access -- except Duni, ironically -- but 'dungeons' was far too broad a category. Even 'anomalous dungeons' needed to be narrowed down, and then I realized I wasn't willing to enter another besides Duni, as it'd be far too dangerous.

I had three weeks. That deadline was just close enough to raise my stress levels and just far enough to encourage procrastination.

My meeting with the Executive was shortly followed by the conclusion of negotiations and thus start of preparations for my new job. At my request, Learned Anderson had pushed for disguising me so as to boost my credibility and prevent adventurers from pestering me off the clock. I was thus to wear an enchanted mask such as those used for masquerades, theater, vigilantism, and crime.

Mine was of middling quality, rendering my features a single smooth, silvery surface, including my eyes and hair, so I distinctly resembled a silver-sculpted golem. The hope was that this would lend the impression of an impartial judge, an effect I was told was significantly strengthened by my modified Scholar's robes and silver gloves, so not one speck of my own skin showed. Similarly, my voice emerged as genderless and inflectionless. I'd questioned the need for such creepy dramatics and was assured the voice suited the appearance, and some of my clients would appreciate the spot of theater besides.

At least nobody should recognize me in the Guildhall. Fortunately for my limited time -- one Book and two Scrolls and zero accreditation ideas, oh my! -- we'd agreed to one packed week where I'd continuously advise adventurers as they dropped in, followed by a few hours on weekends only. If I wasn't struck by inspiration during this week of work, I'd still have two weeks to find motivation. (I'd taken to reading of recent accreditation successes in my spare time.)

Before my first client entered, I was already in position, seated across a desk with notepad and quill... and yes, I very much noted the similarities to my own interview, except I'd switched roles from interviewee to interviewer. I even had a prewritten list of questions, though I didn't need to reread them.

Thanks to this ordered list, my work mostly followed a pattern. First I asked the purpose of the meeting, which both eased the client into talking about themselves and also reminded them we were here strictly for their benefit. Then, if it hadn't been addressed already, I questioned them on their current Path, any significant problems, their life goals, and so on and so forth, popping in a question on their Skill Set when they seemed ready. Some of them were confident in their goals, interests, and talents, as Tom had been; some were eager to spill their whole life story, like Bessie; others, such as Hannah, only knew they had a problem and sought a Path through; and then there were the fortunate few like Blake who seemed tailor-made for a Path or choice of Paths.

I'd expected to experience a significant learning curve. However, I soon had the feeling this first day's clients had all been stringently vetted and selected, both for my beginner benefit and the easy advertising as they left satisfied. It was highly gratifying to Scribe a range of Paths, have the client narrow them down, and Scribe deeper, again and again until, finally, I presented an entire individualized Path, sometimes with branching suggestions.

The whole process could be finished in minutes when the client was decisive and self-aware. I started thinking in nine out of ten cases I might actually be replaced by a clever automaton. More people would probably even prefer it that way, and I could save my valuable time...

My eyes widened. I suddenly had an idea for my accreditation project proposal.