Andromeda sat back down at her desk, she was bouncing in her seat from the excitement. She could still remember the feeling in arms, it felt so different to anything she had felt before. It was so different from the concept of mending that it felt alien and new. She had no idea how it would work until she figured it out.
That did lead to a problem that she only realized just now. She didn’t precisely know how to use Refutei without imagining it.
Mending could use Refutei or not, and Purification had to use Refutei, and Arcanism potentially use something entirely different, that meant there were at least 5 different techniques she knew about; Normal Mending, Refutei Mending, Purification, Arcanism, and potentially Refutei Arcanaism.
Expanding on that, there were four total reflexes.She knew about Refutei, and there was probably a reverse of Refutei if the “Water” analogy still stood. In the absolute best case scenario there were 11 different techniques. Mending had five, one for each reflex and normally. Assuming Arcanism was the same that was another 5, then 1 extra with Purification needing to use Refutei.
But in the worst case, any combination of reflexes might be able to be used together…
Her mind started to race. There were dozens of combinations between Mending, Purification, and Arcanism. There was likely going to be a different technique to each, and again, each will have some set of reflexes with their own learning curves.
Mending took her weeks to get to this point, and although she got Refutei pretty quickly, and was on her way with figuring out Purification, that was still barely a fraction of the basics. She didn’t even know what Arcanism was yet.
…
She was panicking again, she took a deep breath and calmed herself. This was a whole profession, it was going to be hard. There are likely people who spend their entire lives learning about magic and die before calling their work good enough.
It was starting to make sense why a specialty was so important to people. With so many different forms and techniques it was practically required that you focus on something.
She needed to either specialize or take a different approach.
She looked over at the small pile of books next to her. Her journal was sitting there, a few scrawled notes about things to keep in mind. She flipped through its pages and saw scattered things about mending. Then it hit her, she didn’t need to remember everything. She just had to write it all down.
Andromeda tore out the few filled pages she had and started filling the rest with everything she knew so far. The techniques, measurements, charts, diagrams, different styles, limitations, everything. When she finished she went back through and added notes in the margins for things she missed, then back again to make sure everything was right.
All the information she knew about normal mending fit on a single page (on both sides). On the next page she put down all the non-redundant information about Refutei Mending. She left three pages after that for the other four reflexes she didn’t know yet, then moved onto Purification. She didn’t know enough to fill a page, but she put enough to make her satisfied.
There it was, sitting in her hand was all that she had learned in a few weeks. When it was condensed into a few pages it felt like barely anything at all. But then she looked at the rest of the blank pages and realized that she wasn’t stressed about keeping everything in mind, she was excited to fill the pages.
She propped up the book on the convenient lectern she had sitting on the table (She never realized how useful they could be until she had to use one before) and picked up the book for purification.
To accomplish this, a Mending Student must learn to let their mind attune to a flow, rather than imagine it. An Arcanism Student must learn to focus their mind and not let the flow be altered by their whims.
Andromeda cleared her mind and tried to remember that feeling she felt before, but this time while she was holding the glass of water in her hands. It took a few minutes, but she got the feeling to return. The presence of the water made it feel different though, when it passed through the water and returned to her other arm, it felt colder and less electrifying.
Next, use Refutei to slow the flow. The process for doing so depends on the user and how they feel the flow.
It took her a few tries to puzzle out how to use Refutei with this flow. She couldn’t just imagine it slowing down because then her mind wouldn’t be clear. The solution she came to was a little bit risky, she held her breath.
It was for a few seconds at first, then she felt the flow in her arms slow down. She realized that this was probably because she was literally killing herself slowly from lack of oxygen. It slowed farther and farther the more she held her breath. Luckily it wasn’t that she had to hold her breath longer to make it last longer, that would be a dead end, what happened instead was as she got more used to the feeling of it slowing down, the better she got at sourcing that feeling without significant oxygen deprivation.
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Before she moved on, she opened her eyes and made the notes in her journal. This was a habit she needed to build or she wouldn’t make any progress.
Notes down, with a very big and clear warning to not hold her breath too long, she returned to the water.
She thought it would be easier to work with if the water was less pure than it currently was. She grabbed some crumbs from the plate her sandwich was on and dropped them in the water. The water was now suitably impure and ready.
She closes her eyes, channels the feeling in her arms again. She holds her breath for a few moments, then takes a slow breath, then repeats. She feels the flow slow down. The focus she applied distracted her from noticing that this process took the better part of an hour to accomplish.
The flow was so slow now that it felt less like an electrifying pulse and more like bumps in an otherwise smooth flow. They repeated, over and over. It was the same rhythm every time it, a few bumps, a longer bump, then a few more bumps. It was starting to get distracting so she tried to focus harder to even it out.
It was hard, she would lose her focus several times and have to reset. She seemed to be making progress, as she continued it seemed like the bumps in the flow would become less pronounced. With enough time the flow became smooth and she couldn’t feel anything stand out.
She opened her eyes and inspected the water. It seemed clear, but she wasn’t sure if that was just because the crumbs dissolved. She took a sip and judged its taste.
It tasted like… Nothing.
She could feel it on her tongue as she drank it, and felt it go down her throat, but it tasted like nothing. It didn’t even have a taste, it wasn’t warm or cold. It just existed.
It wasn’t lost on her that water had a “taste” because of the minerals and other small contaminants in it. So that meant she had indeed purified the water just now.
She paused, it didn’t feel as impressive as when she first mended. Maybe the thrill of learning died down after the first few times. She was still impressed with her effort, but it didn’t feel as great. Nonetheless, she turned to her journal and started recording her thoughts.
Now that she had done it once, she needed to add it to the practice regime.
Practice makes perfect.
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Such an eventful year.
Cylas always had a reputation for the students it produced, ranging wildly from peasants to the highest echelons of society, foreigners, and even non-humans. But this year had quite the showing.
The first was a freshborn son of a notable merchant family. Among the youngest ever accepted to the college, and far more sociable than mages are ever known to be. Even more impressive than his personality was his choice in magic. Atmomancy was a highly sought after skill among mages and it was clear why he chose it. Controlling the weather meant that clear skies and calm tides always followed close behind.
The second was an enigma of a person. Tall and thin, constantly tired, and inhumanly focused on his work. He seemed to have the temperament of a man twice his age, and the experience and knowhow of a man thrice. His devotion to the field of Florimancy was second to none in his generation and already made a name for himself in the discovery of the “Rigurflasia”.
The third was a surprising one, the young daughter of minor nobility. Born blind but taught divination. Her awareness and observational skills put the greatest of generals and the wisest of scholars to shame, and her ability to practically predict the future was something that would only be seen once in a lifetime.
The fourth was another young lord. A young man in possession of two qualities that any researcher would dream of. A perfect memory, and near limitless patience in his work. A veritable master of runic principles and the related fields they facilitate. It was said that he could pull a rabbit from a hat while lacking both a hat to pull from, and a rabbit to pull. Simply by exercising his experience in summoning.
Then finally, there was the mystery child.
A young woman who maintained many strange and intriguing qualities. First, she possessed an old and tattered hood that seemed sunbleached to such a degree that its once opulent and vibrant blue hue had faded to a ghostly white. Her fingers were bleached white in much the same way, seeming almost ghostly in appearance. She also possessed two rings, both of which she had never been seen to remove once, lastly, she seemed to have recently come into possession of two finely crafted white gloves as a gift from the young diviner. But all those strange details pale in comparison to her qualities.
The girl possessed a rudimentary understanding of magic academically, only basic concepts like mana flow or the reflexes, but her rate of understanding and research was frankly shocking.
On arrival, she proved that the rumors that she and the fabled “Mending Mage of King’s Grove” being one and the same true by showing a beyond master level understanding of the art of Mending, being able to repair the same item multiple times near instantly and from a range. She also further cemented her understanding of mending by claiming to have never used the reflex “Refutei” before masterfully using it to such a degree that the teacup she used it on became practically indestructible for several hours.
Not all rumors about her are painted in such a flattering light. Her timely entrance at the insistence of High Magister Ferdinand Delerous precisely coinciding with the appointment of the enigmatic Arch Mage White fueled conspiracies that they were related. Some even believed that they might also be the same person, but as evidenced by her presence at the college and the known sightings of “White” across the country, no one thought this could be the case. Not that anyone would ever bring the issue up to the woman herself.
Such an eventful year, the old man making a move was to be expected. But such an interesting one was not. Naming an Arch mage, pushing a promising mage to Cylas out of nowhere, and most interesting of all not being able to say why beyond “I have my reasons.”.
Then there was the young king. A fool, but a strong willed fool. Going to war over the death of a man he hated just so he can say he cared. He didn’t care that his country crumbled down around his feet so long as he got his way.
Finally was the Medea, or rather the church that bears their name. So loud, so opinionated on the state of the world, so outspoken about how things should be. Now they were silent, not a peep from even the smallest of church mice. Did they have something to hide?
Such an eventful year…So many interesting things to look into, so many new strings, so many new puppets…
Maybe it was time to hold a meeting of sorts, it was polite to celebrate a new member of the family after all, and what were the Arch mages if not family?