Alex remembered more of his conversation with the ancient chancellor of Generasi.

“So…” he’d said. “The Mark obstructs my thoughts when I’m learning and casting spells, so I need to pay a lot more attention to every single detail of every spell I learn. That’s the ‘necessity’ part you were talking about: the part that creates discoveries. The more comfortable I am with every detail of my spells, the higher my chances are of casting them without a disaster happening. Most wizards don’t have to do that, so I’ve got a necessity that others don’t.”

“Keep going.” Baelin had run his hand through his beard braids, watching Alex intently.

“And…” The Thameish wizard had continued thinking his way toward a conclusion. “Because I have to focus on details since it’s so hard for me to learn new spells, I’ve modified a bunch of the ones I’ve already learned. Like forceball: I made it stronger by pouring more mana into it. I’m guessing most wizards don’t bother with that either?”

“They do not,” the ancient wizard had said. “Time and energy spent modifying a spell like forceball can be more efficiently spent learning a more powerful spell that accomplishes the same purpose, but to greater effect once your skill and mana have both grown enough to master it. Your modifications to forceball are impressive in a sense, but do not represent an improvement or a revolutionary change to wizardry. You did make forceball better in every way: but to strengthen it, you have to use more mana when casting the spell. For most wizards, such a use of extra mana would be considered a waste; they could instead channel that mana into a more powerful, effective spell. That’s the case for most wizards.”

“But not for me,” Alex had said. “You know, back in first year Professor Jules said that alchemy wasn’t as popular as other disciplines of wizardry because other disciplines accomplish what alchemy can without all the expensive ingredients, equipment and careful training you need to be an alchemist. Just an example off the top of my head, it’s a lot easier and more efficient to learn spells of body enhancement rather than bothering to make potions of body enhancement.”

“And wizards value power and efficiency,” Baelin had agreed.

“Power and efficiency.” Alex said to himself, pacing back-and-forth in front of the celestial fox and Bubbles. They watched him curiously. “The other Marks, exemplify power, and efficiency. The Champion increases strength, speed and toughness, while giving one all the previous battle skills of past Champions. The Sage increases the power of spells and gives one an enormous mana pool. The Saint grants a direct connection to Uldar’s divine power. And the Chosen is given lesser versions of all three of the other Marks’ gifts.”

Like Baelin, Alex ran his hand along his scraggly beard while thinking, making a mental note that he needed a shave. “They’re straightforward, powerful, efficient, and perfect for killing Ravener-spawn. That's all there is to it, right? they make fighting monsters easy…wait…”

Frowning, he shook his head. “Something’s wrong here…I'm still missing something. Fighting Ravener-spawn…easy…easy…easy…”

Repeating the word reminded him of more of his conversation with Baelin.

“But I can’t take the easy way, so I had to come up with all these strategies and techniques to help me learn and cast spells while contending with the Mark.” He’d said at the time. “So…then I get into summoning magic, which this power helps me out with. Suddenly, a big part of the magic circuit’s taken care of for me, which means I don’t have to struggle with as much of the spell array as I normally would. So then—when I apply all the strategies I had to come up with—I end up learning the spell faster than someone who didn’t have to bother with learning all the nitty gritty details of magic circuits and spell arrays!”

A grin had broken out on Baelin’s goat-like face. “And this is why I enjoy having you as a student, Alex. And yes, that is what my theory is. You have had to focus so much of your efforts on how to learn spellcraft in the face of adversity, that you are far more equipped for the learning process than the average wizard. A good example…hmmm…have you ever met someone who is blind, Alex?”

The young man had shaken his head. “No, I haven’t.”

“I have many times,” Baelin had said. “We humanoids are visual creatures: normally we process the world through our eyes. Our ears, nose, taste and sense of touch are all secondary to the information that our eyes grant us. If say Thundar were to describe Sir Sean Swift to you, he could likely speak of his height, the thinness of his build, the paleness of his skin, and the grey in his hair. If he did not mention how the man sounded, then you might not think anything of it, despite the fact that he left out an entire sense in describing him. If he described the man’s scent, you might think your friend a little strange for noticing such things…unless of course Sir Swift had a strong aversion to bathing.”

“Well, Thundar’s got a really sharp nose.” Alex had tapped the side of his nose. “Because he’s a minotaur. Now if Isolde started telling me how Sir Swift smelled, then I might start asking questions. But…I think I get what you’re saying. We focus so much on sight…but what happens when we have to rely entirely on another sense to get most of our information about the world?”

“The answer is that you pay more attention to that sense,” Baelin had said. “Without sight to distract one from sound, all of one’s attention is focused upon what they hear. Aspects of voice, melody, and other bits of sound suddenly become far more obvious when one mostly has information of that nature to sift through. It is the same with you, you pay attention to aspects of spellcraft that most do not focus on because they do not have to.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Whereas without the Mark, all that time I spent learning how to learn, would’ve probably been spent memorising more spells,” Alex had said. “And on the other hand, the Mark cuts way down on the time I need to learn literally anything else…”

“…and thus you have the time to focus on aspects of spellcraft that most other wizards do not. Thus, you have developed a skill and method of learning spells that—while labour intensive at first—lets you efficiently learn magic once you have mastered it.”

“And, and!” Alex had said, growing more excited. “The more control I gave over to the power when I was casting Summon Small Water Elemental, the more I stopped overcompensating when I didn’t need to! ‘Cuz I exert too much control in order to counteract the Mark.”

“Indeed. So, in situations where the Mark is not a factor, you can release some control, thus removing wasted effort and upping your efficiency,” Baelin finished. “It is not simply the power that helped you learn this spell so quickly, Alex. It is the combination of this power’s aid, your hard work, and attention to aspects of spellcraft most take for granted, that afforded this breakthrough. You have a very interesting path ahead of you.”

“So the main reason why these spells are so easy now, is because I no longer have to overcompensate for the Fool,” Alex said out loud. “I needed to develop an excessive amount of control over creating a spell array to compensate for the Mark…out of necessity…”

He felt close to something. Very close.

Another conversation came back to him.

Not with Baelin, but a more recent one, with Professor Val’Rok.

“When one studies history, especially the history of technological or magical development,” the lizard wizard began. “It can be tempting to see it as a linear pattern of discovery that eventually culminates in modern knowledge. Millennia ago, mortals used sticks and stones to hunt beasts for meat. Then one day, someone develops bronze, which spreads, and soon, everyone is using bronze. We had no boats, then one day someone invents a boat, the knowledge spreads, then everyone has boats.”

He’d continued.

“Well, the thing about discovery is that it’s not linear. It appears so when looking back, but it’s not. Take boats for instance. It’s likely that boats weren’t invented by one person and then spread, it’s more likely that boats were invented all across the world—completely separately—by different cultures. Someone from every civilization near water probably looked at the sea at some point and said, “huh, how do I cross that?”

“So different people tried to solve the same problem and came up with similar answers, but only the most popular answers got recorded in textbooks?” Alex had asked.

“Precisely!” Val’Rok had clapped. “For simplicity’s sake, you see, that’s not really taught in first or second year, and only touched upon in fourth year. Students need to learn the foundations of modern wizardry before they begin exploring similar, often half-finished methods that were condemned to the graveyard of history.”

“And those mana manipulation techniques…” Alex had squinted at Uldar’s notes. “You think they’re similar to some of our modern techniques, but approach problems slightly differently?”

“Exactly,” the professor had said. “At least that’s my theory from just a cursory examination: most of the symbols in this method seem to have been invented by the alchemist who crafted it, so I can’t be one hundred percent certain. But that’s what it looks like to me. The problem with techniques like these is that they use a slightly different methodology to accomplish similar goals, but modern alchemy is built on the methods that we already know well. Therefore, most advanced mana manipulation techniques would be largely incompatible with an old, dead-end theory such as this.”

Alex pursed his lips in thought. “So, when Uldar was making the Ravener, he ran into limits; alchemy had only advanced so far in his time. To compensate for that, he invented entirely new branches of alchemy—fusing it with divinity—and created processes that wouldn't be discovered by other alchemists for thousands of years. So Uldar wasn’t only a thinker: he was a leader, a problem solver, basically an innovator.”

The young wizard thought back to his years at the church school. “He also valued knowledge: he called for his church to set up schools all over Thameland and had his priests teach the population how to read and write, do arithmetic, learn history, and other things. He clearly valued knowledge both for himself, and for his people.”

Alex could feel it. He could feel the answer, right on the tip of his brain.

“The other Marks are all straightforward,” the Thameish wizard said. “Or are they…and even if they are, what would Uldar—a god, who values knowledge, discovery, and problem-solving—want from his General?”

As he spoke, he remembered something else.

A memory from long ago.

Something Baelin had said in the Art of the Wizard in Combat; before his class’ first test to determine who would qualify for COMB-1000.

“No, you will be safe from that threat. My expectation for you today is not to destroy every threat you meet,” Baelin had said. “It is to test your judgement and basic ability to adapt. Evaluate your obstacles. Cross difficult ground at speed using magic and wit. Defeat what you should. Avoid what you can. The challenge today is not easy, but not impossible. If you cannot overcome this, then there are other courses at the university that I might recommend before trying your hand at COMB-1000 again. This course is rigorous. Its learning curve is steep. Finding that you are not ready today is better than discovering it three months from now when the challenges are far more perilous.”

The answer struck Alex like one of Claygon’s fists.

What had fuelled cultures to find a solution to how to build a boat? Need and necessity. What had forced him to learn to master the details of a spell array? Need and necessity.

Need. Necessity.

What would happen if people didn't have a need to cross the water? Would anyone have invented boats? Would he have mastered the details of spell arrays, if he hadn’t been limited by the Mark of the Fool?

“The answer is no,” he said with certainty. “Without the need to compensate, I would've been just like every other wizard. And what's the one thing I developed because of those limits?”

What had gotten him through his life when fire had taken his parents?

It was the same thing that Baelin said was the basic requirement for those in the Art of the Wizard in Combat:

Adaptability.

“Uldar adapted when alchemy wasn't developed enough for his needs…” he thought. “Maybe that'swhat he wanted from his General. Adaptability.”

He thought about all of the Marks, including the General’s.

“Maybe none of them are as straightforward as I once thought…” His eyes widened. “...not when it comes to reaching their full potential.”

If he was right, then the Mark of the General would help him with spellcraft and combat—in a much more interesting way than he’d anticipated.

If he was right, he was finally understanding how the Heroes were supposed to work.

Not individually, but…

Symbiotically.