As the term progressed, Jeb found his nightmares coming less and less frequently. In part, he felt that he was better coming to terms with what he had heard. In part, as with all memories, the stories his family told him faded slightly. And of course, the fact that his waking moments revolved around the Ritual had an effect.
Jeb managed to keep up with his courses, though he knew that a major reason for that was that every one of his Professors knew he was graduating soon, and lessened their expectations accordingly. His focus on transcribing the Ritual even affected his ability to participate in Dean Aquam’s course. Every time that the Dean asked the students to consider the way that the Magic moved as they danced, Jeb found that he was only able to compare the motion to the way Magic moved in the Teleportation Ritual. It got to the point that Dean Aquam simply stopped calling on Jeb during class discussions.
When the term finally ended, Jeb breathed a sigh of relief. Now that he didn’t have any courses to worry about, he could finally focus on the Ritual. The fact that his different courses met at prescribed times meant that he was only able to work on making his notes more legible and complete, rather than actually working to improve the Ritual. With the freedom that the term break allowed, though, he was able to start refining the actual Magic, rather than just bothering with the busy work. Jeb lost himself in the work and hardly noticed when the term break came to an end.
In all honesty, Jeb had to admit that he did not notice the first two days of the new term. The only indication he had that something had changed came when he woke up in his dormitory, vaguely remembering shambling back from the Stacks the night before. There was a sheet of paper hanging in front of his doorway, and he looked at it, curious what it said.
Jeb, There is a seminar this afternoon that I believe you would find interesting. Please attend. Dean Aquam
Jeb noted the address and time on the page and moved to the cafeteria, unsure how much time he had before the lecture began. He arrived at the cafeteria and listened to the chiming bells, relieved that he still had a few hours to prepare for the seminar. After eating a rushed breakfast, he returned to the Stacks to make sure that his notes from the previous day’s research were at least slightly more legible. He finished revising them just before he needed to move to the lecture hall.
Arriving in the lecture hall, Jeb looked around to see who else was in attendance. He didn’t see a single person that he recognized, not that he was particularly surprised. The only post graduate students he met had been in the Ritual Magic course with him, and it was entirely possible that he would be unable to pick them out of the crowd of sitting people. The lecturer was equally unfamiliar. Jeb took his seat just as he began speaking.
“The specific way that Magic flows through Glyphs is known to change between each Tier of Glyph.” Many in the audience nodded at that claim, though Jeb had never heard as much. Seeing the diagrams of Magic flow for the first seven Tiers of Glyphs, though, Jeb saw that the first few, at least, mirrored his own experience of how Magic moved through Glyphs.
“I propose a method of understanding Glyph construction which unifies these disparate paths,” the lecturer continued.
A small bit of muttering broke out at that claim, though it was relatively subdued. Jeb did his best to follow along with the talk, though he had no idea what the different theories or names the lecturer referred to meant. When the talk concluded, the lecturer was met with a flurry of questions. He took them well, Jeb noticed; it was clear that he had been expecting push back at his claims.
That lecture set the tone for most of the rest of the term. On days where there was no lecture, Jeb would stay cooped up at his desk in the Stacks, working on the Ritual. On days that Jeb heard about an interesting lecture, he would instead work to make sure that his notes were all in order and then listen to a speaker discuss their research. They were almost exclusively interesting, and he listened to research in every field of Magic he had learned, with the notable exception of Ritual Magic. None compelled Jeb to change anything about his own life, until the final lecture of the term.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“It is my great pleasure to welcome our newest Professor of Glyphs,” Headmistress Petra began, introducing the speaker. “She comes to us from the Army, where she has spent the last fifteen years teaching Glyph modification to promising recruits.”
After some polite applause, the speaker took the stage. She had a commanding presence, and Jeb noted that her movements seemed far more controlled than most of the lectures he had seen. It wasn’t that she never gestured to her diagrams, it was just she never gestured aimlessly. Jeb listened attentively, following the talk better now that he was aware of the different names and theories in Glyph Magic. When she had finished her research presentation, though, Jeb was taken aback. The lecturer began to speak about the differences in culture between the Academy and the Army.
“I am positive that the largest culture shock I found between the two will not surprise anyone here,” she said, “but it remains strange to me that Academy Mages are expected to purge Glyphs from their souls.”
Most of the crowd nodded, but Jeb was completely lost. No one had told him anything about removing Glyphs from his Status. His only recollection even somewhat close to that was his mother explaining to him that it was very difficult to remove anything from his Status. After questioning had ended, Jeb made his way to the front of the room, hoping to talk to the speaker. He had no other obligations for the day, and so he was able to outlast everyone else in the queue.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jeb said, shaking her hand. “I had a question about something you said, though.”
“Oh?” she quirked an eyebrow, “which of your pet theories did I dismiss out of hand?”
If he hadn’t been listening to the other people in the queue, Jeb would have been completely lost. As it was, he still flushed slightly.
“It wasn’t that,” he stammered, “I was wondering about removing Glyphs from your soul.”
The Professor focused more on Jeb, and he was briefly aware of just how much power a High Tier War Mage could wield. The feeling quickly faded, and she began to nod.
“I see that your own soul is cluttered with different Glyphs. Are you researching something in particular?”
“Yes?” Jeb responded hesitantly. “I’m working on a Ritual right now-”
She cut him off with a wave. “I am sure that your research is fascinating, and I would love to discuss it sometime. Are you researching something related to keeping Glyphs on your soul?”
“No,” Jeb admitted, “but the Primer on Glyph Magic I read said that it was important to bind Glyphs to your soul.”
She nodded in understanding. “I assume that the Primer you read assumes that you would be going into the Army or the Adventuring Corps. For a Mage in one of those careers, the split second of time that having a Glyph imprinted on the soul saves is often the difference between life and death. For the Researchers in a similar position, having a Glyph or few imprinted on their soul serves the same purpose. The rest of us, however, can afford the small amount of time that it wastes.”
“But what’s the benefit?” Jeb asked.
“There are two. First, having more Glyphs in your soul means that you gain less Experience for accomplishments. Although that effect is more readily measured, it is far less important for the average researcher.”
The Professor paused, giving Jeb a piercing look. “How much Theorycrafting do you know?”
“Not much,” Jeb admitted.
“Then I will give you the brief answer, which is that having a cluttered soul makes it more difficult to study subtle changes in Magic.”
“How would I remove Glyphs?” Jeb asked, thinking about the subtle variations in Magic that he was attempting to view in his Ritual.
“I feel obligated to tell you to speak with your advisor before attempting any large-scale modification of your soul, but the overall technique is fairly simple. You simply must consider each Glyph not as an entity in its own right, but instead as a broken piece of your Glyph Magic Skill.”
She let out a small laugh, “of course, simple is not the same as easy. It took me fifteen weeks of concerted effort to remove my Glyphs, and I only had four in my soul at the time.”
“Thank you!” Jeb said, mind racing. He penned a quick note to Dean Aquam, not really expecting a response. To his surprise, he immediately wrote back, encouraging Jeb to attempt to remove his Glyphs, but reminding him not to waste too much time on the effort.
Jeb returned to his farm, sitting beside the beehive that he had built. Being surrounded by his Swarm made him feel more complete, and he had an instinct that feeling complete was going to be necessary if he wanted to revise his soul. He reached down deep, feeling the place where the System met his soul, and looking past it.
He focused first on his Magic Skill, noting the way that his entire soul seemed to spiral out from and through it. It took him a moment, but he found the small nodes that represented each Glyph and Song that had imprinted on his soul. Whatever vital force cycled through his soul, Jeb saw that it was disturbed when it passed over the protrusions.
Gritting his teeth, for all that he knew it was a pointless affectation, Jeb attempted to pry Attune Sand Mana (Efficient) - Modified, the Glyph he learned last, out from the fabric of his soul and into the sphere that was Magic. Getting a grip on the Spell was difficult, but the moment he separated it even slightly from his soul, Magic seemed to leap forward to devour the Spell. The sudden motion was surprising enough that Jeb was pulled from his focus. Looking at his Status, he saw that the Glyph had, in fact, disappeared. Over the course of the next few hours, he removed the rest of the Glyphs from his soul. When he had finished, he felt somehow lighter.