Day 21, 4:15 PM
“One must travel a long path if they wish to become a mage.” Edna’s voice is solemn, and I have to kneel on the ground before her as she teaches; because that’s the way things are done. I don’t mind, even though it’s kind of annoying. A nice cozy lecturing hall with soft, leather seats would have been better for the students’ morale. Less distracting for those with lower physique, too. But I guess you lose that whole moment of looking down on your students and them looking up to see your face.
“You start as an apprentice,” she says, “as long as you have a master willing to teach and you are willing to learn, it is only a matter of time before you become an apprentice mage. The class will grant you the skills you need to master magic—”
My hand shots up, and a look of annoyance flashes in her eyes. Edna crosses her arms and taps her upper arm with her index finger. An uncomfortable second passes before she speaks.
“Yes?”
“Which skills? Can you learn those skills without acquiring them through the class?”
“I was about to mention them. The most important skills are Initial Mana Sense, without it you can’t even sense the surrounding mana, Initial Draw Mana which allows you to draw mana into your body, Initial Mana Control, for obvious reasons, and Initial Awakened Consciousness to keep all of it together, otherwise you really can’t process all the mana-related tasks at the time. Now, to get all four, you need to reach level five in apprentice mage. That’s the earliest point at which you can leave the class, but there are benefits to remaining an apprentice for extra levels.”
She pauses, and my hand is up in the air again. I don’t know why, but Edna is even more annoyed.
“Why do we want mana inside our bodies? Do we spend it to use magic? Wouldn’t it be better to control the surrounding mana, instead of drawing it into us and releasing it?”
Edna snaps, her arms going down, her hands balling into fists. “Do you have any idea what kind of honor it is for a mage to teach you personally? If someone who wasn’t even an apprentice dared breathe too loud around a mage, they’d kick him out and never look at them again!”
Ah, so that’s the problem. Tradition.
“Edna,” I say calmly. “I am not a child seeking instruction, and you are not a near-omnipotent member of the highest social caste. I can understand your nostalgia and upbringing influencing your thoughts, but we are partners working towards the same goal. What we both want is not for you to impart knowledge on an eager child, but for us both to reach the peak of power this world has to offer.”
I pause, and her high mental stats process what I’m talking about almost immediately. It’s strange. She offers about as much resistance to the idea as she did to my hypothesis of dungeons or the Guide being sentient.
“The questions I ask are meant to help me understand. To advance faster, to avoid pitfalls,” I continue after she calms down and her shoulders relax. “As you know, I’m not of this world, the holes in my knowledge run so deep, a child might know things I don’t. So, if you don’t mind, please answer my questions. Me kneeling before you like this is a sign of respect for you and your tradition, and I both respect and appreciate the fact that you are willing to teach me. Don’t you think I deserve some respect and appreciation, too?”
She deflates, her anger completely gone.
“I’m sorry. I tried to recreate the atmosphere from when I was an apprentice. I thought it would help you learn and accept your lessons faster.” Her lip twists into an ugly half-smile. “You’re right. Do you want to sit in the chair, so we can discuss this over tea?”
The shake of my head catches her by surprise.
“I wish to honor your tradition and your teaching style as much as possible, as long as it doesn’t interfere with our purpose. Right now, that purpose is me becoming an apprentice mage. Who knows, maybe kneeling before a master is a part of the entry condition.” I offer her an honest smile, free of anger or any negative feelings. In truth, there’s nothing to be angry about. Maybe I could have found myself slightly offended if I took this as a personal attack and an attempt to humiliate me, but I don’t think I am. It’s clear that wasn’t Edna’s intention.
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Edna nods, but I can see the confusion and lack of conviction in her eyes.
“Do you mind answering my questions?”
The blood vessels in her translucent skin widen, marbling it with red.
“I’m sorry, what was the question?”
I repeat myself and she explains how mages need mana within and without to cast spells. Now I know they are called inner mana and outer mana, and that the former is used to guide the latter to achieve a specific goal.
“Anything else?”
I’m overflowing with questions, but none of them are important right now. So, I shake my head, and she continues the introduction to mage classes.
“After finishing apprenticeship, you will become a journeyman mage. That’s when you start casting the simplest, formalized spells. Those are safe, well established and well explored throughout the ages. As long as your song and form are correct and fed enough mana, you can cast them. Important skills here are Initial Focus, Initial Mnemonics, Initial Overpower Resistance, and Advanced Mana Control. Yes, you have a question.”
I didn’t even raise my hand, respectfully waiting for her to continue, but yes, I am full of questions.
“I already have Initial Focus.”
“That is good. I dare not imagine what you would have been like without it.” What started as a praise turned into a slap, and I can’t help but smile.
“Touche.” She doesn’t get it, but I don’t care. “What is Initial Overpower Resistance?”
“Each creature has some innate resistance against mana intrusion. Even some inanimate objects have it. You will need Initial Overpower Resistance for spells which manipulate creatures and certain types of objects or materials.”
“Is there a skill which increases mana resistance?”
“There is, and it’s a great choice for combat mages, and I’m fairly certain inquisitors have it at higher tiers. However, as a healer, I never intended to fight other mages, so I don’t have it. Your physique and willpower influence your resistance to magic, to an extent.”
Now that statement is interesting and opens a whole new avenue of questions.
“What about mana sense, mana control, draw mana, and such?”
I can see her forcing herself to remain calm. The rational part of her is struggling with the traditions engraved into her bones.
“Wisdom influences your ability to draw mana and your ability to sense it. Mana control and overpower resistance are both tied to intellect, and no, I don’t know why that is. I’m not sure anyone ever asked themselves such nonsense questions.”
Why on earth wouldn’t you experiment to at least try to deduce the nature of magic? I mean you have magic?
The question isn’t fair. Homo sapiens on Earth existed for some half a million years, and yet they took more than four hundred and fifty millennia before they started asking existential questions.
I consider her words, and I realize something.
“How high is your mnemonics skill?”
“Advanced, even when I want to, I can’t forget anything. Minor details from a hundred years ago are gone, washed away by the river of time, but everything else I remember. Even if I can’t recall the exact words of a conversation I had a hundred and fifty years ago, I can tell you what I discussed, with whom, and what we ate for breakfast.”
All right… That explains some things, like why she has a tough time letting go, why she insists on childhood customs— How much does her current state hurt, if she can vividly recall how she had lived as a rich daughter and a rich woman?
“I apologize,” I say out of the blue.
“What for?” She tilts her head a fraction of an inch.
“I now understand why my breach in decorum hurts you so much, and back when we first met I told you I handle my excess memories by forgetting them. I didn’t mean to point out that your seemingly harmless skill is driving you insane.”
She turns pale, again. Dammit, I said something I shouldn’t have once, again. Why do I keep doing that? I don’t think Blunt had any part in it, so I can’t even shift blame.
“Class dismissed.” She turns around and rushes out of the cottage.
Great, I drove my teacher out into the rain before she managed to conclude our first session. In fact, we’ve barely scratched the surface. Then it hits me. Wait! She didn’t know?