“So, are we clear on muddling?” Dan asked him after finishing his sip.

“You did that on purpose,” Sam accused him, inwardly applauding the pun. Or was it wordplay? What’s the difference between the two anyway? It’s not a simile, that’s for sure. And… that does it for all the clever terms that I know of. Wait, irony—He shook his head. “Yes, I think I’m clear on that. So now gathering? You mentioned how having a more muddled core helps you cultivate better. And I seem to recall Sarah saying the terms were interchangeable.”

“Well, that’s not strictly true. It’s more correct to say that cultivating is always gathering, but gathering is not always cultivating. It’ll make more sense to you when you can actually gather and see for yourself. For now, all you need to know is that the term gathering describes the process as a whole. And the term cultivating only describes one possible end result of the process, of using the magic you gather in order to increase your core’s capacity.”

“That a real headache. Who the hell came up with all those terms. Wait, let me guess, you got it from the elves.”

Dan smiled. “Gathering and cultivating are indeed the English translations for the terms used by the elves. But rest assured, the headache exists for them as well.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, trying to discern if there was another point of weakness he could find and attack in the basics of this world’s setting. Wait, no! he immediately chided himself once he realized what he’s been thinking. Bad Sam! Bad! Stop trying to ridicule the worldbuilding in an attempt to poke holes at the objectivity of this new reality! You’re being a very naughty boy and you’re going to make the almost certainly real people who like you and want to help you—your new friends, in other words—very sad if they found out what you’re thinking of them. Now apologize to all the people whose existence you’ve just doubted and promise to stop thin—

“Sam?” Dan said, “you alright?”

“Mm? Huh, yeah, totally…” Sam coughed and took a sip of water in order to hide his embarrassment. “I was just… considering…” Phelbas. No don’t say that. Why the hell did this of all things is what jumped to my mind? “How much I hate linguistics. Or was it philosophy of language that I didn’t care about? Whichever are the guys that clown on Chomsky’s theory are the ones that I’m alright with. But never mind that, we were talking gathering.”

“We finished talking about gathering. There is nothing more for me to say that wouldn’t require hands on experience.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“OK… So what’s next?”

“Nothing. We’ve covered everything that I wanted to talk to you about. Now we just need to make sure that you’ve understood all of it. So, please, run by me everything that we’ve talked about today, matter of fact, everything that you know or think you know about magic. Make sure that I didn’t miss anything and that you’ve got it all right.”

“Sure. Cause that’s just the sort of things that make life fun. Recaps.” Despite saying that, Sam still complied. Because you can’t fool around when the fate of the world is at stake. Finished, he crossed his hands in satisfaction, secure in the knowledge that Dan must be shocked to his core at Sam’s ability to retain simple knowledge. “Anything I missed?” he asked Dan when he got bored with virtually patting himself on the back.

“None of the things we’ve covered today and nothing else that you should know about, I’m happy to declare. Of course, you will have to learn every topic we’ve discussed today, even, though to a lesser degree, sculpting, in much more depth in the coming years. If it sounds like a lot, I assure you, it isn’t, especially if you end up staying for the whole three and a half years. But whatever the future holds, remember that even when I’m no longer your private tutor, as long as I’m still here, you can always come to me with questions or for advice.”

Sam gulped. “Thanks. That’s… really nice. Really nice. And in case that I haven’t already said it: I’m really thankful, despite all the bellyaching, for all the help you’ve been giving me. All of you. I know that there’s the whole pragmatic aspect: my high chances of becoming a Ruler in the future. But still, you guys are going above and beyond treating me as nicely as you’ve been.”

Dan shook his head with a slight laugh. “Nothing above and beyond, I assure you. At the very least, I’m just doing my job. Which is a very small price to pay for having the credit for another Terran Ruler in my cap. Not to mention that if I wasn’t being nice to you, Maurice and Sarah, who, I’m sure, will also argue that they’re not going above and beyond, would have my hide. And while they don’t pose much threat to me currently… Who knows what will happen in the future? Sarah is sure to become a Ruler just as much as you are, and while the question still remains with Maurice… He could more than make up for his own lack of power by calling on the help of the many great figures his talents have netted him as friends. So really, I’m driven more by the sense of self preservation than anything else.” He smiled. “Still, if there is anyone that deserves your gratitude, it’s those two, particularly Sarah. Of course, I’m sure that you’ve already thanked them before, but in case that you feel it wasn’t enough… just remember not to overdo it with the show of appreciation so that you’re no longer being authentic to who you are.”

Sam chortled. “You make it sound like being thankful is anathema to who I am as a person. I’ll have you know that I am a very grateful person. For example, I always thank the bus driver when I’m stepping off the bus (unless I took it for just one station and I’m feeling really down). Furthermore, I also always thank the person sitting next to me and blocking me from getting out when they make space to let me move. Even if they have been an annoying little shit by talking on the phone or not stepping out of the sit completely, just pulling their legs back, in order to let me out. The only exemption is if they have been really infuriating: like one of those people who tells you that they’re also getting off at the next stop and they don’t get up until after the doors had opened. Now those people, they don’t deserve a thank you. The only thing they deserve is a slap to their stupid, lazy faces! Sorry… It’s just those types of people are the worst. And there’s always this one guy that I keep coming to that did this to me and I just want to…” He made a strangling motion.

Dan held up his hands. “Fair enough. You’re a very appreciative person. My apologies for making it seem otherwise.”

“Apology accepted. Just another example of how nice how I am. So by the way, the case of you no longer being available for education. Is that far off in the future, like after I no longer need your constant attention and teaching? Or could that be next week as well?”

“The first one. But even that is not very likely. At most, I might leave for a month or two, probably during the trimester breaks like I just did. But… who knows what the future holds? If something outrageous happened, like the front collapsing or me becoming a Ruler, I doubt that I’ll be able to remain here in my pedagogic capacity. But unless something of that order of magnitude happens… No, I’m not planning to be away from my duties here for any long period of time.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Sam inwardly gave a breath and felt some of the tension he didn’t realize he held in his shoulders relax. It seemed that he really took a liking to old Dan Ritter here. Or maybe it was just the social anxiety talking, and he was reluctant to make acquaintance with yet another authority figure. Of course, it could just as well have been regular anxiety that focused more on Sam’s future obligation and his fear of not being up to the task thrust upon him. On a fourth thought, it’s probably the fact that I went thorough a grueling workout two days in a row, and my body doesn’t appreciate existing right about now.

Dan slapped his thigh, drawing Sam’s attention back to him. “It seems I’ve grossly underestimated how much time it would take me to cover the basics of magic,” he said with a sarcastic smile, while pointing at his watch. Analog, just when I was starting to like the guy. “So before we finish with this first study session of ours, is there anything that you want to ask about some of the stuff we’ve covered today?”

Sam mulled the thought around in his brain. “There’s plenty of stuff. But I think most of them are a suffering from the intuitive understanding problem or that they’re ‘we’ll cover this in the future’ kind of questions. Well, there is one thing that’s been bugging me now that I think about it. The core is where all of my magic is stored, right?. Does that mean that if I empty myself of magic that it will recreate all of it up to capacity eventually?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, but essentially you’re right.”

“So what happens to patterns that I’m already tracing magic through them? Say I filled my body with sustained patterns, would that allow me to hold twice the amount of magical energy, half in my patterns and half in my core?”

“That is a loaded question that touches on some very difficult subjects like tracing resistance and dissipation. But leaving that aside, you can take it as a guaranteed truth that the amount a core refills in a second is less than the amount tracing expends. As for patterns… We haven’t touched upon this yet, but there is another meaning for the term ‘capacity’, or more correctly, the word affixes itself to a different term. The first is core capacity, which you’ve understood correctly, and the seconds is pattern capacity, which derives itself from the first. Pattern capacity is dictated by how much energy your core passively recovers in a second and thus how many patterns you can have rotating at once without beginning to empty your core. We won’t get into how to measure it right now, but just understand that, like with tracing, it’s impossible to have more magical energy flowing through your patterns than the maximum possible amount in your core.”

“So your max energy is determined only by your core. And there isn’t any way to change it aside for messing with the core itself. So that means that even if I lose my hand or another body part, that won’t carry with it any magical drawback. That’s good to know. One less thing to worry about, right?”

“Indeed. Any… reason, for this particular fear?”

Sam shook himself in surprise. He was so focused on catastrophizing this sudden new notion that floated through his mind that he didn’t even stop to consider how abrupt and weird this line of questioning might appear to an outside observer (or obvious, to a knowledgeable one). And while he liked Dan and respected him as a fellow human being and all, he wasn’t quite comfortable admitting his true thought process to the man.

“Oh… nothing really major, you know.” He stretched out his words, taking the time in order to make up an answer. “I was just wondering, not for any immediate concern or anything, but more in a general, far off to the future, capacity. Whether my body has any bearing on how much magic I have. Like, if I was fatter than I am already, would that allow me to pack on a bit more magical mass, so to say? Which isn’t possible, right? Only the core determines that and the core isn’t affected by anything of the bodily physical dimension, yes?

“Yeah, that’s really all it was, you see? I was just wondering. Because, aside from the whole question of whether I would have to start packing on mass, if, say, magic is determined by your body than that would mean some serious stylistic changes for your truly if I hope to become my optimal self. Like me having to grow my hair and beard, in the case that they also increased your magic capacity.

‘But I guess that it’s not really growing that was my problem, but the opposite. I’ll be honest with you. My real fear was concerned with something a bit more private, so stop me if this makes you uncomfortable. My chain of thought went to the admittedly highly unlikely but still theoretically possible future in which I found myself a woman to be in a committed romantic relationship with. Now, as a modern man, with modern sensibilities, I take a certain pride in my appearance. Or, to put it bluntly: I start feeling mortified when I don’t conform to the common stylistic choices.

“One of which is the trimming of one’s… no reason to dance around it—pubic hair; manscaping, as it is colloquially known. Of course, the exact fashion in which a person configures their downstairs area is up to them and them alone. But compromises must be made in the case a person is part of a long term sexual relationship. Both people (or however many more, if you’re a sexual deviant) have their own needs and wants and must reach a consensus regarding their preferred view for the genitalia.

“However, as I am an insecure young man, prone to following the popular trends of fashion. It is highly likely that before engaging in sexual intercourse with my, hypothetical of course, future partner, I would take a razor, or some other device meant for hair removal and cut the hair short of my own volition. Now, my fear was that I would end up like another man who had a haircut as a result of a dalliance with a female seductress. And it just so happens that said man might be called my namesake if a person didn’t know any better.

“Yes indeed! I was afraid that much like the biblical hero Samson, I too would lose my strength after engaging with the opposite sex. Only in my case, it would have been my pubic hair that held the secret to my great power, and which loss rendered me weak and emasculated. Perhaps I would have my very own Delilah to hand me over to my Philistine enemies, the dreaded Epiraks in our scenario. And unlike brave and prideful Samson, I would not have God on my side, to restore my strength at my greatest hour of need and allow me to bring the hall of my captivity down on myself and all the Epirak leadership.

“But fortunately, magic doesn’t have anything to do with your physical characteristics. So I can trim my privates to my heart’s desire, secure in the knowledge that no woman would be able to hand me over to my enemies as a result of hair loss. Ye…ep, that’s pretty much what I was thinking. Stupid, I know, but what can you do? The brain thinks about what the brain wants to think about, right?”

Dan opted not to answer right away, instead making sure to savor the tea’s taste as the last of the cup’s liquid disappeared down his throat. “I’m happy to tell you that you should posses no worries in that… aspect. Hair holds no magical qualities whatsoever.”

“That’s good. That’s good.” Sam nodded. “Good. Yeah. That’s good.”

Dan chuckled. “So if you have nothing else to ask, we’ll end it here for today. We’ll continue our lessons tomorrow, sometime after lunch. I have a prior commitment in the morning that I can’t cancel. I’ll text you when I’m done and we’ll meet back up here. Sarah told me that she’ll keep an eye out for you until then, so I return you to her capable hands. In the meantime, if you happen to think about anymore questions, write them down and we’ll go over them if we can.”

“Sure, no problem.” Sam quickly finished what remained in his glass. “See you tomorrow, then. Thanks again for today.” Dan got up and accompanied him out of the door. Sam took a moment to reorient himself, and then another moment to regain his balance after his body just had to remind him of the status it was in. He took a deep breath and steadied himself by leaning on the now closed door. A short while later, he felt capable of walking once again and started making his way downstairs and out.

That went well. A lot easier to learn new knowledge when you’re sitting down in a cool environment and you’re not busy breaking apart your body. I mean, it’s the future; couldn’t they have some VR shit that lets you train in combat without tiring your body out? Fuck… I feel like dying, and it’s going to have to be like this every single day until I’m up to snuff.

Damn, I should have brought my new headphones along. Now I’m going to have to walk with nothing to occupy my thoughts. Ooh, look who’s suddenly unhappy about the fact he gets to go places by himself… Mr. you don’t need to babysit me all the time, I can be by myself for more than a couple of minutes. Fat load of bollocks, that was. You didn’t even raise a stink after hearing that Sarah was going to waste more of her time babysitting you tomorrow.