“Thalia, there you are…” Callach’s familiar voice proceeded him as he approached the table. “I was looking for you all day! You should be continuing your studies!”

Thalia moaned through the sandwich. She continued to make successive noises from behind the large meal.

“Speak clearly, Thalia,” Callach demanded. “I can’t hear you with that massive-”

“I’m gonna get to it!” Thalia replied. “Right after I finish this-”

“At least 20 pages a day, each book!” Callach exclaimed, though without ire. “You need to keep up the maximum efficient learning-”

Thalia’s head bobbed behind the sandwich as Callach spoke she mimicked him silently. She sighed at the end of his explanation.

“Fine,” she said, defeated. “But, can I bring my sandwich with me to the workroom? It’ll help me focus.”

“Fine,” Callach said. “You can-

Thalia picked up her plate. “Bye, Jon!”

She jogged down the hallway.

“Don’t get any in the books!” Callach called out. Thalia was already sprinting away.

Callach breathed a deep slow sigh. There were several quiet moments until he spoke up again.

“Don’t worry. We actually have several copies here in the library. We let them have that one so that if they do, and trust me, they always will, spill some mess on the pages, they can feel guilty about it and treat the others with respect.

Jon nodded, his mouth still full of food.

“I apologize for not making my complete acquaintance earlier,” Callach explained. “I know that We’ve been in each other’s company before in the past, but…”

“Jon,” Jon said. He put down the sandwich and stood up, wiping what was left on his hand on his overalls before reaching out for a handshake.

Callach took it. His hands may have been cool and bony, but his grip was firm and solid. There was a sense of weight behind it, but it had invoked a feeling of security and respect, not of fear. Far from the ferocious grips of Luther.

“Callach Jerimiah the fourth, though I imagine no one’s called me that in…” he chuckled to himself. “So, Jon, I hear that you’re a farmer, here to visit us from a faraway land?”

“Yeah,” Jon responded.

“You know…” Callach tilted his head in a knowing fashion, “farmers used to roam around these lands quite a bunch a long time ago,” Callach explained. “In fact, I’ve met a few myself. But that was so long ago, and I forget myself.”

He bowed. “You’re here as part of the King’s Guard under Hector’s supervision, correct?”

Jon figured supervising was a close explanation ot what Hector did, and so he took it with a strong nod.

“I also you’ve already made yourself acquainted with Thalia,” Callach added. “She was once quite shy, but now, she is bold and outspoken.

Jon nodded. “I… saved her. Not too long ago.”

Callach’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh! You were a part of the group… that’s why she’s taken a liking to you!”

Jon nodded.

Callach gestured to the room. “Thalia’s family have visited here from Volta plenty of times, always willing to drop off whatever books they find on their journeys. It was only recently, however, did they enroll Thalia in a full study program much like we have presented to others before. Much like Hector himself when he was younger.”

“Hmm…” Jon imagined a smaller Hector roaming around the halls, looking for something to read.

“Mallory, while never officially registered for his time here, has utilized his time by Hector’s side wisely. He’s done much more studying than most students in any specific capacity. I consider him an official graduate of the program regardless.

He got closer to Jon. “You see, the Library of Mana was made years and years ago by the people before us as a way to store all of the old ways of mana in one place so that people could share and discuss knowledge of the magics for all time.”

Jon thought that made sense.

“Here, whenever someone comes to study, we create a catered curriculum just for them and the thing they want to study the most. You see, we don’t just have books on mana. We have many… many…books from the days of old. Because remember…”

Callach wagged a finger at Jon. “Those who fail to learn from the mistakes of the past are doomed to repeat them.”

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Jon agreed with that as well. He nodded, taking hold of his sandwich again.

“Well, I’m glad you seem to know that.” Callach shook his head. Trying to invest this idea in the minds of the young ones is… challenging. They want to go on... try to make some of the same mistakes themselves so that they learn from it that way. Aw, well, I suppose that’s the only way to learn new ways to make the same mistakes or to solve them.”

Jon wondered how long the man could keep talking without provocation. He was happy to wait and find out.

“As you may have seen, Thalia is a decent study. Eager to learn. However, she likes to spend her time among the roughness of the people. Investing herself in their danger just enough so she may bring back her knowledge and use it to aid in her studies.”

Callach gestures swiftly and forcefully, with only one hand this time. “Young master, on the other hand, hates being among the people. He aches to prove himself apart. And yet…”

Callach pulled out his other hand, looking between the two as if he was making a decision. “He also doesn’t like to study what infinite wisdom he has at his fingertips. Most people fall into one or the other, and so it is very stressful trying to figure this out.

Jon prepared to take a bite, but the smell was so pungent he almost got distracted from the older man’s dialogue.

“The young master has had a broad burden put upon his shoulders very recently. His mother was very sickly and died when he was young, so the boy’s father has been in charge of the library since then, but he wishes to be married again, along with some other diplomatic business. So, he has been away. Until then, the young master is in charge of all of…”

Callach stopped talking and looked at Jon in awe. “I must say! You are a very good listener! How long have I gone on for?”

Jon shrugged. He was happy to listen to someone who sounded so wise.

“Oh, I apologize. I should change the subject to you… and…” Callach gestured at Jon’s back. “May I?”

Jon nodded. He was used to mage types being interested in his gun. He was just wondering how long until Callach did.

Instead of just reaching for the gun, Callach walked all around the long table, going so that he could be right in front of Jon on the opposite end.

“I’ve talked so much about our history,” Callach explained, “I should only do you right by helping you learn about your history.”

Jon pulled out his gun with what he hoped was his clean hand and placed it flat on the table. He and Callach peered over it, looking down at the gun.

Callach waved his hands over the gun, pointing at different things. Jon wanted to let Callach know that he could touch the gun, but his mouth was stuffed and he was afraid of embarrassing himself and the gun.

“Like most magical weapons,” Callach began, “it seems to have been made of a metal that has an incredible mana conductance that we aren’t often used to seeing…” Callach put his hand to his chin. “Although even if that metal was to be found, it wouldn’t be enough to be able to enchant a weapon such as this.”

Callach placed his hand on the table near the gun, and he and Jon made eye contact.

“Inside every person is an abundance of mana, and with every person is a slightly different wavelength of mana. We’re still not sure much these inherent wavelengths of mana can be changed or affected… but what we do know is that people can consciously or unconsciously put their entire wavelength into a craft… so much so that it becomes almost an imprint of them onto the piece. It generates a strong, life-like wavelength of it all.”

Jon’s hands got tired, so he put his hand down. It was getting a little soggy.

“The problem is, however, is that just because one has imparted some of their own wavelength signature onto the weapon mean that they can wield that weapon in full glory.”

Callach gestured with his hand like he was unwrapping a large parchment. “You, see, in this world, matching wavelengths don’t always mean identical wavelengths. And in nearly the same way, the master who crafted the perfect tool may not always be its perfect user.”

Jon looked down at the gun, being reminded that it probably had a heavy history before it came into his possession. Someone had to have made the gun, even before Jon found out he was bound to it. Even before it had ended up in Graves’s hands. There might have been another user of the gun before Jon. Did he miss it? Or was he even alive anymore?

Heck, even Thalia had an entire history before him. He assumed that she was completely helpless, but now, it made more sense that she was able to escape from the bandits on her own.

Jon looked longingly at his gun. There was so much Jon didn't know about the people in his life. From Mercy to Farmer Dan to even his parents. Maybe he would ask more when he returned home. Maybe he should have asked more, even before he left.

“Don’t look so sad.”

Jon looked up from the gun into Callach’s warm expression.

“You need not worry so much about the past,” Callach said. “Yes, we must learn from it, but you must also create your own story, so that others may learn from yours. Leave the regretful thinking to the old men like us.”

Jon grimaced.

“Oh, what you must understand, Jon, is that mana is finicky. And yet, we can always rely on it do perform as it always have. Much like people, Jon. Not everyone who makes their weapon knows what’s gonna happen to it. That’s not their responsibility anymore. It’s up to the person-”

“Is that food?” Hector’s interrupted Callach as both he and Mallory rushed up and took a seat around the table. Mallory sat next to Callach while Hector sat next to Jon

“Hector, stop eying Jon’s food,” Mallory scolded. “You know how to get your own food!”

“I’m not eyeing his food!” Hector replied. “I was just thinking about getting my own!”

“Of course!” Callach bowed to Hector. “Would you like the usual?”

“Nah,” Mallory started, “you don’t have to-”

“Sure,” Hector said excitedly. “I haven’t had that in years.”

“Seriously?” Mallory cocked his head. “Charlotte cooked some for you your first day back!”

“She did? Oh, yeah, but that’s different.” As Hector and Mallory talked, Callach had already started to head in the direction of the kitchen.

Mallory gestured to Callach, but Hector shrugged.

Mallory rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man.”

He turned to Jon. “So, how was your day?”