“Today’s class is primarily about shaping.”
Ezio pauses for effect, then gestures grandly with both arms. A flutter of mana accompanies the soft pop! of illusions breaking, and a sheet of paper appears in front of each student. “First, a reminder to always be ready! On your desks, please find a short quiz; if you’ve read today’s assigned chapter on the mana control test, then you should find it simple. If not, then let it serve as a warning for the future to be more responsible. We’ll discuss the results from your mana control tests, which you’ll find posted in the back, after you finish.”
I glance back at my study team and wink. They all return appreciative looks for my tip, except for Zviad, who appears just as unimpressed as always. I ignore him and turn back to my desk, pick up a pen, and start on the quiz. As promised, it’s short and fairly straightforward, going over the details of mana control terminology and methodology. I’m not the best student, but I find it fair and easy, since I read the chapter.
Once he collects the completed quizzes from the now subdued class, Ezio resumes his lecture. “Remember: this is a class, not a competition. Comparison is helpful insofar as it provides context, but take care not to water the root of bitterness or you may find that it grows into an ugly tree indeed. Over the years, your numbers will surge forward at times, only to reach an unanticipated plateau. Conversely, they may lag behind compared with your peers, only to flourish later on. Where you start this race matters far less than what you do on the way to the finish line.”
I find myself nodding along. Although I’ve already met with Ezio to go over my results, I still lack information about the other students. Seeing where they score will help me figure out how I stack up, and where to focus my efforts so I keep improving.
Ezio waits for the whispers to die down. He smiles in a grandfatherly sort of way, with a proud look that’s fonder than I expected. “I understand that at least one student here today has already practiced modifying the weave of her Skills, so I’d like to invite her to show us how to shape mana. Melina, you’re a full-fledged [Gaffer] already in your First Threshold, correct?”
An excited susurrus breaks out. Achieving the first Threshold is impossible in your teens. Melina is my age, so just into her twenties, but it’s still impressive. She’s a clear step above many of the students in the class, who likely won’t reach such heights until they’re closer to twenty-five. No one knows precisely how to predict when someone will reach that distinction, but condensing a large enough mana core and fortifying your soul space seem to be prerequisites for advancement.
Melina meets Ezio’s eyes and nods firmly. “Yes. I achieved my First Threshold almost two years ago.”
That sets off gasps of shock and envy.
Melina continues as though she didn’t just stomp on the egos of an entire class. “Since then, I’ve been working on compressing and expanding my temporal Skill [In the Blink of an Eye]. Generally, it’s a localized effect, but with significant effort I can increase its area of influence. I’d like to cast it from afar, but that’s proven harder than I thought.”
“Temporal Skills are incredibly rare apart from time-aspected mana,” Ezio says. “For you to have developed one without any clear affinities or aspected mana is fortunate in the extreme. You should be proud of your work ranking up the Skill; they’re notoriously difficult to modify or advance. Please come up front. I’d like you to give us a demonstration on changing the intended purpose of a Skill.”
While Melina makes her way down, Ezio glances up to the back of the class. “Nadeem, nice to see you’ve recovered from the mana control test. Question?”
“Yes, Sir. What’s the difference between modifying a Skill, and using a free-form spell? I haven’t had much success changing my Skills. They seem inflexible compared with real magic,” Nadeem says, a tinge of frustration in his voice.
I find myself nodding along in curiosity. I’ve been wondering the same thing. It’s a relief to know even the nobles don’t know the answer. Based on the information I’ve uncovered so far, Nadeem and Zviad are the highest-ranking students in the course. Nadeem’s great-uncle is a dignitary of some sort, and his entire family has relocated to the borderlands for the tenure of his great-uncle’s service.
“That’s a common obstacle,” Ezio says, nodding in sympathy. “Don’t let it get you down if your Skills are resistant to modifications. That’s not actually a bad thing, since it often correlates to a more powerful effect. Let me explain. Skills are codified spells, essentially. They’re usually good at one thing, not multiple things.”
Ezio turns to the board, condensing his mana pen and sketching out a large ball of fire in the blink of an eye. “Imagine, if you will, that I want to manually create a fireball. I can adjust its size, intensity, heat, coherence, and so on.” Each time he mentions a component of the fireball spell shape, the drawing on the board shifts to more closely match his explanation.
“Unless I have extraordinary mana control, I’ll lose probably half of the potential power to mana leakage and inefficiencies in manipulating the fire directly. Now, compare this to a [War Mage] with fire-aspected mana,” Ezio says, flourishing his wrists and transforming his mana pen into a large stamp. He walks down the stage, pressing the stamp against the sleek surface of the board and leaving behind three identical fireballs.
“While these fireballs are less creative, which may limit tactical options—you don’t want to set off a massive explosion in an enclosed space, for example—they are quick and easy to make. The best part is that they’re highly efficient.”
“Thank you for the clear explanation. My tutors always scolded me and said that I think too much,” Nadeem replies. “That makes more sense.”
Jahn laughs, slapping his desk. “So, you’re saying there’s a chance that I’m not really failing, I’m just too strong for my own good? It sounds like we’re in the same boat, Nadeem!”
Ezio waits for the chuckles to fade away before he throws cold water on that theory. “No, unfortunately. Strength isn’t the same as efficiency. There’s always a tradeoff. In the case of the fireball example, lack of flexibility doesn’t matter on a wide open battlefield if you’re a hammer and your enemies are nails. If your Skills aren’t malleable, it may be that you’ve already used them in the same basic pattern over and over for so long that they’ve calcified.”
“So it’s possible that there’s nothing I can do?” Nadeem asks. “That’s so unfair!”
Ezio shrugs one shoulder. “That’s life. Or, you may simply lack practice in shaping. Don’t jump at the first explanation you hear. That’s life advice, not just for magic: keep an open mind, dig into details, discover the truth.”
“But what can I do right now?” Nadeem pleads.
“I’m getting to that,” Ezio says. He continues to smile, but there’s a tightness around his eyes that I didn’t notice before. “You can almost always improve with practice. We measure our progress by years and decades, not months and weeks. Take a long view.”
“Years!” Nadeem bursts out in despair. He seems to notice the other students watching him, and he hunkers down in his seat.
Ezio gestures toward Melina. “Thank you for waiting patiently. Let’s move on from theory to seeing what mana shaping looks like in reality. Could you please show the class how you go about shaping your mana Skills? Walk us through your temporal Skill. What does it do normally? What modifications have you experimented with implementing? My graduate student Rakesh says you’ve got excellent control—and he doesn’t hand out many compliments, I assure you.”
That gets a reaction. I twist in my seat, a grin splitting my face, to watch the way the kids whisper in excitement or frown in envy. I shouldn’t think of them as children, but some of them act so young that it’s hard for me to remember that I’m only five years older. I guess I forget just how much I’ve grown up since I was their age.
Melina activates her [Lesser Object Manipulation] skill, levitating her notebook over from where she left it on her desk. “My Skill usually speeds up something locally, so that a few hours might transpire inside the bubble, while only minutes pass outside. Like this.”
She turns over her notebook in the air, setting it spinning lazily, then uses [In the Blink of an Eye] to trap it in a temporal field. Her Skill hits, and the book accelerates, moving so rapidly that soon it looks like it’s spinning backward. It reminds me of watching the spokes on a wagon that’s moving at high speed.
“What is your use case for this Skill?” Ezio asks, sidling closer and prodding at the small temporal bubble with his mana pen. Somehow, he manages to interact with the field without any disruption.
“I combine it with [Flawless Annealing], which helps me avoid cracking or discoloration while glass cools, so that I can finish commission work in minutes instead of waiting overnight to deliver the piece. It’s one of my primary responsibilities at the glass works.”
“Thank you for the explanation,” Ezio says, beaming at Melina. “Fascinating Skill. Now, what have you experimented with in terms of modifications?”
“Right now, all I can manage reliably is reversing the time field,” Melina admits, her pale cheeks turning pink. She lifts her hand, concentrating, and the book seems to freeze in place.
If I squint, I can just make out a slight shift in its position. The temporal field now slows down the rotation so that the book flips end over end in majestic, mesmerizing slow motion.
“How large can your field go?” Ezio asks.
“I haven’t been able to make it change shape. The best I’ve done is activating the field a few paces away from me. Oh! Any volunteers? This is fun.”
Ezio points to a student behind me. “Aditi, your hand went up first. Come on down! Let’s see what Melina has for us.”
A tall, black-haired girl I don’t know yet shifts over to the central aisle and walks down to the front stage with stately steps. Her lustrous red-brown skin reminds me of the iron oxide we mix into glass batches sometimes—though, oddly, iron turns the glass green, not red.
“What do you need me to do?” Aditi asks. “I will do my best to assist.”
Something about her helpful attitude makes me irritable. Why couldn’t Aditi be on our team instead of Zviad? A kind word and graceful smile would be a welcome change from the bluster and arrogance I’ve been subjected to so far. Aditi wouldn’t even need to bring anything helpful to the team project to be an upgrade. She’s at least not Zviad. Ember calls it addition by subtraction, and I’ve never understood that sentiment as well as I do now.
“Thank you for volunteering. Please run from one end of the stage to the other. I’ll catch you in a bubble to demonstrate how far away I can still control the Skill,” Melina asks, smiling back at Aditi.
“I do not run,” Aditi says smoothly. Her charming smile never slips, but she simply nods back to the young [Gaffer] and glides back up the stairs to her seat.
“Spoiled brat,” Zviad mutters behind me.
For once I find myself agreeing with him. Would it really have been so hard for Aditi to just trot across the stage?
“I’ll do it,” I say, feeling bad for Melina.
But before I can stand up, Zviad vaults down to the floor with a loud thud. He shoots me an imperious glare, walks to one end of the stage, and drops into a sprinter’s stance. “On your signal.”
“Go!” Melina calls, throwing out her hands and casting her Skill two or three paces from where she stands. Her brow creases in concentration, and her fingers tremble, but the Skill is a success, popping into existence just before Zviad barrels across the stage like a hound chasing a hare.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
He’s faster than I thought, moving with the power and agility of a trained warrior. All the same, when he hits the temporal field, he moves so slowly that Melina has time to yawn, stretch out her arms, and walk over to brace herself in front of the field. “I’ll need a few more volunteers to catch Zviad. Come on down! He’s moving quickly.”
Most of the front row empties out as students run down to the stage and crowd around Melina. They’re just in time; they line up and hold out their arms a split-second before the field fails, and Zviad charges right into a sea of hands.
Shrieks of surprise ring out as Zviad bulls over the first few students. One of them glows briefly with a surge of mana, activating some sort of body-enhancing Skill, and stops Zviad in his tracks.
“Creepy,” he mutters, jerking free from his classmate’s grip. “One second, the stage was clear; the next, you all zipped into place before I could react. Your Skill’s wasted as a crafter. If I could do that in a duel I wouldn’t have lost in the prelims—”
Zviad snaps his mouth shut. He storms off back to his seat, ignoring the comments and questions following at his heels like nipping dogs.
“Marvelous demonstration,” Ezio says, drawing attention back to himself. “That level of manipulation usually takes years of dedicated practice. Show of hands, how many of you could follow the mana flows?”
Surreptitiously, I glance over my shoulder to see how many people raise their hands. Fewer than half a dozen appear to already have some version of [Manasight]. Maybe I’m not as far behind as I always think I am.
“Thank you. Do any of you feel capable of describing what you saw? No need to feel bad if you aren’t certain you can do it. Melina used advanced techniques that aren’t easy to unravel. I do believe in challenging students to rise to the occasion, however.”
“Observing complex phenomena is more fitting for my talents than running across the stage like a [Berserker]. I will explain to everyone what happened,” Aditi says. She makes her proclamation sound magnanimous.
I wonder if Aditi is another noble born classmate. They all seem to have an inflated view of their own contributions to the course, so that tracks. I scratch my chin as I think. My only confusion is trying to figure out where she's from; her complexion makes her seem like she’s from Naftali, like the Linas’ grandparents, but that doesn't explain why she would study in an academy located in Densmore. Perhaps some sort of exchange program?
Maybe I’m overthinking it.
Out here in the borderlands, it’s not always easy to determine where someone is from originally. Silaraon, along with the surrounding regions, is technically part of Densmore now, but our territory has changed hands many times over its history. The population now is a confluence of the people who stayed behind. From what I’ve heard, in the capital there’s more linguistic and ethnic homogeneity, but out here, we run the gamut of colors, customs, and culture.
Aditi stands up to address the students. “Changing the effect of time dilation is a matter of reversing the mana flows. That’s the simple part—anyone with sufficient mana manipulation should be able to do the same. Moving it farther away from her is more complex, however. She first had to shift the foci of the spell forms so that they’re not right in front of her. Yes, plural. It’s not simply a temporal skill; there’s a spatial element to separate the bubble from the usual time and space fabric, if I’m not mistaken.”
Despite her behavior, I have to admit that Aditi knows her stuff. I jot down her comments in my notebook, considering whether or not I can get tips from her later about how to finally earn [Manasight]. I’m not sure if she’s amenable to sharing that kind of information, but no one else in the class seems as advanced. If she says no, then I’ll ask Ezio during office hours.
“Well done!” Ezio says, his eyes lighting up as he addresses Aditi. “You are correct. It’s a dual-layered spell structure. Forcing both foci to move in precise tandem doesn’t just double the difficulty of the modification; it’s closer to four times as intense, since they both have to move in coordination throughout multiple axes in space-time. Additionally, from what I can measure with my mana-analysis Skill, it looks like for each body length away Melina moves the temporal field, the mana cost for each component of the Skill goes up exponentially. If you’ve all been paying attention, you’ll notice this is a recurring theme.”
“That explains why I can’t shift it any farther away,” Melina says. Her shoulders slump a little. “I was hoping you could help me get around that limitation, but it seems like I’m stuck.”
“Not for long,” Ezio says, smiling at Melina in encouragement. “That leads us to our next point for today: covering the results of your mana control tests. Melina, your Capacity is actually the highest in the class, likely because you practice with mana-intensive Skills on a daily basis for work. You’re at seventeen, but keep in mind that’s normalized for the First Threshold. It’s a good deal higher than even a ninety-nine in the pre-Threshold paradigm. Remember, you can find your scores on the poster in the back. I’ll send you all a copy.”
Ezio flourishes his hand, and a stream of silver-white mana visible without mana senses swirls into the air. The energy shoots to the back of the room, envelops the poster, and peels off a shimmering, spectral copy. One, five, then twenty—they zip around the room like swallows or hummingbirds, before landing on our desks for review.
I scan through the list of names to find my results, even though Ezio already told me the other day during his office hours. The class average is listed to the side, so I mark a little symbol next to each category: greater than, less than, equal, or a star for the best, so that I can quickly see how far I have to progress to catch up with the [Scholars] and [Mage] aspirants.
Capacity: 22 <
Retention: 68 <
Speed: 44 <
Resistance: 19 *
Fidelity: 73 >
Control: 75 *
Consistency: NA
After a moment for us to absorb the information, Ezio claps to get everyone’s attention. “Break into your groups to discuss. I’ve written the highest score for each category in gold ink. Congratulations. You all earn a prize. Report to the student mess hall and let them know you get a cookie.”
Something about Ezio’s sarcastic tone and twinkling eyes makes me doubt that the prize is actually worth anything, if it exists at all. I can’t imagine the [Bakers] on campus keep extra cookies around for Ezio’s students. Nonetheless, it comes as a total shock to see Nuri Shahi in gold lettering next to both Resistance and Control.
“How?” Zviad demands a moment later, speaking to no one in particular. I turn around to look, and he’s glaring straight at me while he fumes. “Is this some sort of trick? There’s no way these crafters outscored me. I’ve been training with some of the finest [Magical Tutors] in the capital since I was a child. This is absurd!”
I smile apologetically and shrug, not wanting to further antagonize Zviad, but Ezio seems to take exception to the idea that only a privileged few can learn mana manipulation. He frowns at Zviad, then taps his fingers together.
“Remember, they’re years older. Nuri, do you have your glass orbs? Please bring them up here if you do,” Ezio says. “I’m sure we can clear up this mystery by showing how you train.”
I carry my satchel down to the stage. “Always prepared. I never know when I’ll have a chance to practice—or make a sale.”
My quip doesn’t land as well as I hoped. Half the students simply roll their eyes or let out polite laughter, but Zviad glares at me with open hostility. “What, is that your plan? Mess with the numbers so that you can have your wonder boy sell us some little trinkets?”
“Watch and learn,” I shoot back.
I unpack my training gear, hold an orb in either hand, and begin moving mana between them. Surprise flickers across a few faces when the globes light up in accordance with the heat transfer. I concentrate on making the display as bright as possible, flaring my mana and pushing more energy through the patterns than usual. I take it slowly, enjoying the alternating looks of envy, admiration, and irritation as I show the fruits of my labors.
Control over mana manipulation hasn’t come naturally, but I’m ahead compared with the students several years younger than I am. To them, what I’m doing probably looks advanced, if they can even see it with [Manasight] yet.
Even Aditi looks grudgingly impressed.
When the heat transfer completes, I take a jaunty little bow. I can’t help myself. As much as I claim I don’t want to be singled out, I enjoy accolades. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am today, and it’s nice to receive validation.
“Does that explain things?” Ezio says. “I realize not all of you can see what’s happening, but Nuri made those glass orbs himself. Each layer inside contains a small pattern or puzzle for the mana to flow through. He has to gather heat and transfer the energy from one to the other, using only mana. It’s difficult for anyone under the First Threshold, although I expect that you’d all have no problems with it after that. He’s earned his first place ranking.”
I scratch the back of my head, shuffling awkwardly in place. Ezio just painted me as a target by talking up my first-place control score and giving me a sales platform. Finally, I shrug. Who cares what the other students think? I won’t see most of them again.
“Thanks, Ezio. I appreciate the vote of confidence,” I say, squaring up my shoulders and trying not to look so shy. “While I’m up here, would you mind answering a question that’s on my mind? I’m trying to think of the next step for my glass orbs.”
“Glass-making isn’t my specialty. Isn’t that your area?” Ezio teases. “But I’d be happy to talk further about mana shaping. Thanks to you and Melina, we’ve seen good demonstrations today of manual manipulation of Skills and clever training resources. What do you think you can do to improve your regime?”
“Er, my question’s not exactly about shaping. Sorry. This is about a different topic. Is that all right?” I ask, my skin suddenly hot and prickly with embarrassment. So much for not caring what the others think.
Ezio’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. “All questions are allowed, as long as they pertain to magic. This does pertain, yes?”
I nod vigorously. “Yes. Could you explain the difference between enchantments, runes, and wards? When do we use one versus another?”
“Hmm. That’s a complex question. I’ll give you a surface-level answer, but if you want to discuss it further, come find me during my office time. That’s well beyond the scope of an intro course like Foundations.”
“That’s fine. We don’t have to talk about it now,” I say quickly, not wanting to draw more attention to myself. I’m starting to wish I’d just returned to my seat quietly.
Ezio waves away my worries. “No, it’s a good question. Enchantments are essentially a Skill, or a fragment of a Skill, inscribed on an object that can withstand the mana required to imprint the spell structure. Truly skilled [Enchanters] can overcome material limitations, but it’s easier to choose a compatible surface. Hardwoods and most metals are popular for that reason, although certain rare, expensive fabrics with threads of mana-infused steel woven into them are also capable of holding an enchantment. The major caveat with enchanting is that it requires mana to activate.”
Warming to his subject, Ezio returns to the board. His mana pen scrawls out three quick columns, labeled Enchantment, Runes, and Wards. He taps on Enchantment, and the words he spoke transcribe themselves in golden ink.
“Runes are less well understood,” Ezio intones. “They seem to form the language of our Skills themselves, although efforts to catalogue them haven’t been particularly successful. Other than the most common runes shared between most Skills, the more arcane runic words, for lack of a better term, elude our grasp.
“Keep in mind that runes appear to be symbols rather than strict language. They unleash raw energy directly, without any need for a spell structure, which means they theoretically have higher potency than enchanting. It’s a double-edged sword, however: initializing runes is difficult and requires intent as much as technique. Esoteric in shape and function, they’re little known, and the basic runes are largely used for simple tasks, such as wards.”
Another tap of the mana pen, and the next explanation writes itself down on the board. I can’t help but smile while I watch the magic in action. It’s not very advanced, and Ezio admitted it’s basically just a parlor trick, but his use of mana is so flashy that it feels magical in a way that my own [Heat Manipulation] Skill simply doesn’t. Mine is more practical and has more powerful applications, but it doesn’t fill me with childlike wonder.
“Wards are what result when a simple, well-understood rune is combined with a structure borrowed from enchanting, so that they don’t require a living being to provide intent. Surely this is the best of both worlds, yes? Well, not quite. Does anyone know why [Ward Masters] aren’t more sought after across the land?” Ezio asks.
No one speaks up right away, so Ezio paces back and forth in front of the class, meeting the eyes of students. “No takers? Very well. Let me explain. First, while it’s handy not to need to power the enchantment after the fact, they still require paying mana costs upfront. Everyone in class today has sufficient Capacity to engrave a single-rune ward, although some of you might cut it close. Any guesses what happens when you add another rune?”
Melina raises her hand. “Exponential cost increase again? Not to mention the potential for two runes to conflict—sometimes violently. ”
“Correct! Mana costs due at the creation of complex wards double for each additional layer of functionality. No one here—not even me—could manage six or more runes engraved into a ward. Dedicated [Mages] in the Second Threshold might hit seven. I only know of one Third Threshold [Scholar Mage] who has the Capacity required to combine nine. This still does not address the bigger problem.”
Catching an inkling of where things are going, I raise my hand again. Ezio calls on me, and I lay out my theory. “I’m guessing that no one knows which combination of nine runes would be useful. I suspect that’s why it’s better to just use enchantments most of the time. They’re more mana efficient and can copy pre-existing Skills.”
“Exactly,” Ezio says, tapping the board again and adding a summary of my words to his list. “Since most people object to having others view their internal worlds, rune combinations are not well documented. While the [Scholar] in me would love to research runes further, I’m afraid I would prefer to have a chance at actually finishing the project before my mortal body gives out. Selfish, eh?”
Ezio laughs. “Wait! Don’t answer that. We’re running out of time today, so let me remind you that you’ll soon need to settle on a research subject. While you can look into anything you find interesting, it must be related to the Foundations we’re discussing in class. Run your idea past either me or Rakesh, my assistant. And if you want to push yourself to the next level, don’t forget to talk with Nuri. I’m sure he’d be happy to make more training orbs.”
With a wink, he walks off stage, leaving me up front on my own. I gulp, staring down the few dozen sets of eyes locked on me. Melina gives me an encouraging smile, and I straighten up, no longer feeling like I’m at the mercy of classmates who want to get every edge they can.
I should be happy to have customers, but it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed and isolated sometimes. I’m no longer a peer; I’m a target to chase. I just wanted to keep my head down and learn in peace, not become the subject of every conversation. Ah well. Nothing I can do about it now.
“I can take orders, but a rush job will cost you,” I find myself saying. Melina smirks at me, but I ignore her and continue my sales pitch. If Ezio’s giving me a chance to sell my glass orbs, then I might as well make it count. Besides, who knows what uses I might find for the money in the future?