Ranvir paused after weapons class letting Sansir and Grev, who were already in deep conversation, continue past him. They briefly paused but when he waved them on they continued walking.
He had recovered from his over-expression during smoke class, and was eager to try an idea that had come to him, while observing the two of them fight. His ability to predict their movements was getting better allowing him to avoid immediate defeat, once one of them beat the other.
More importantly, he’d seen Grev do something weird with his hand during the spar. It wasn’t something Ranvir had ever seen him do on that field before, but it was still a familiar motion. One which sparked his own imagination.
The move had more than once spelled Grev’s early loss, allowing Sansir to clear out Ranvir and take the win. Though Ranvir suspected once he succeeded it would spell many future wins for Grev. He’d watched him repeat the movement many times throughout the previous week. If he actually managed to pull it off then Sansir would have to put his brain into overload to figure out a solution.
In a straight battle, light wasn’t supposed to be very strong on the Disciplines of neither Wings, nor Piercer. At least not early on. Ranvir had heard stories of Lancers and some Swords burning people with light. After seeing what Ayvir could do just after reaching Lance, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was true.
However, Grev wouldn’t need to set someone on fire to win the fight. If Grev actually managed to blind Sansir he would start cleaning the arena with their bodies. At least, until Sansir or Ranvir figured out a way to handle the issue.
Ranvir’s thoughts, though, went in a different direction. What could space do? Pulling loose a single blade of grass, he quickly embraced the pressure as he pulled himself through tether-space.
He imagined a wedge in the space above his palm, sharper than any knife, as sharp as warp. Holding the image in his head, he forced it onto the space above his palm. He felt a vague twisting sensation similar to shrinking space, as his tether speed up. He let the grass touch the wedge. Upon touching the manipulated space the green stalk visibly changed shape.
Ranvir frowned, it wasn’t quite the effect he’d imagined. Worse, when he pulled away the grass it was fine. Maybe I have to freeze the space? The idea made a sort of sense to him, but he didn’t dare make another attempt at freezing space, yet.
He looked towards the library. He’d given Figir’s books back, believing he was still far away from benefiting from them. Also they were better protected there, than in a dorm with three other messy boys.
It’s still early-ish. Ranvir thought, as he assessed the sun. He might… he would miss dinner, but he was only hungry for knowledge. He tried to ignore his stomach rumbling as he went into the building. Luckily, it appeared to always be open.
Nodding at the librarian, he headed towards the back of the huge room, and grabbed Figir’s primer and sat down at a nearby table.
Ranvir was not pleased with what he found. The reason why Figir never became a Master was clear with how poorly she’d developed her techniques. They were at best mildly useful. She’d attuned her Discipline—whatever that meant—to distorting space. It wouldn’t actually redirect attacks, or offer much more defense, than make her hard to predict in a line in front of her.
He could definitely see the powerful possibilities of such an effect, if not for the fact that she was a Piercer and not Wings. If she’d developed this technique for use with Veil or Cloak, it would’ve been immensely powerful making your exact location hard to pin-point.
As it was, it simply made her somewhat harder to hit for anyone between her and her technique.
Another technique she’d developed ‘reinforced’ the space in her Sword. From what he could tell it was similar to freezing space, but not quite the same. She specifically called it hardening space, which seemed different to him, at least.
It allowed her to block immensely powerful strikes as though they were nothing. It would be a great technique for a shield wielder, but from what he could tell she wasn’t. And neither was he, though it wasn’t too late to change. Though, it would still be useful with a light weapon, or just the Discipline of Body.
“It’s like she wasn’t even going to the front lines…” He muttered, angrily at the book below him.
There were few people in the library at this point in the evening so Ranvir was mostly unheard, but something caught his attention. It wasn’t the quiet polite coughing of another reader, nor was the it rustling of pages turning, nor the quiet murmurings of someone trying to remember an important line.
It was the slight squeak and thump of wheels skidding over tile.
Getting up, he grabbed the book and headed towards the sound. Within a few seconds, the librarian’s cart and the aforementioned driver came into view.
“Excuse me.” Ranvir called, keeping his voice low.
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The librarian turned. It was the same man he’d met when bringing his friends to the library. His pure white hair was wispy thin, to the point that it was nearly see through. It seemed to float around his head for a second, as he turned to look at Ranvir.
Immediately, the old man winced. “Please, my boy, don’t hold the book like that.”
Looking down, Ranvir had grabbed the book by the page he’d been at and the cover, letting the other side hang freely.
“Oh, sorry. Is it bad for them?”
“We would prefer if they were treated like the valuable property they are. Even with star jute printing becoming more commercially viable, books are still a precious commodity.” The librarian slid another book into place, the leather cover rustling against its brethren on either side, as it slowly slid into place.
“Thank you for telling me, sir.” Ranvir bowed slightly.
“Do you need any help? Perhaps you need help finding a book?” There was a glint of something gleeful in the librarian’s eyes. “Maybe a book on love? We have a few about courting a lady. There’s even a book about morning potions, should you get so lucky.”
Ranvir blushed, shaking his head. “That’s not necessary. No, I was actually looking for more information about Figir.” He lifted the book. He folded it over his finger this time.
“Let me see.” The man took the book in hand, peering first intently at the spine, the across a few of the pages. “What are you looking for in specific?”
Ranvir cleared his throat. “Something about her role as a tethered. I know some women get sent to the villages to act as mayor’s or administrators after their stay at the Royal School. And perhaps something about how, or why, she died.” He added the last part quickly.
“She could’ve become a researcher, or she could’ve gone on to a village. More likely, though, is that she stayed in the capital and plied her craft for a noble house. Though, the name does ring a bell.”
Ranvir somehow managed to stifle the flush of pink and red embarrassment that had come over him. Of course she hadn’t developed her techniques for war. She wasn’t being trained for war.
“Come.” White hair splayed in every direction as the librarian turned and scurried off surprisingly quickly.
Ranvir hurried after him, resorting to a jog as the man turned the corner of a bookshelf. Almost immediately after he started running, the man’s scowling face returned around the shelf.
“No running.” Then he disappeared once more.
Ranvir slowed to walk. He rounded the bend and found the librarian far further down the hallway than expected, and was then forced to scramble to keep up while avoiding a run.
How is he so fast? Ranvir couldn’t figure it out from looking at him. Either the old man had simply figured out the art of running, while looking like he was walking, or something else was going on.
A little bit of the speed he’d gained fell when Ranvir noticed where his guide was going. He was headed towards the ‘scholar’ section. The notes and thoughts of the people with no training, or the experience required to even begin understanding what tethered were going through.
By the time Ranvir caught up to the old man, he’d already pulled out one book, replaced it and pulled out another.
“Here it is.” He said, once Ranvir was close enough to hear. “This is from Ragnus’ journal. He was visiting some of the Masters of the Royal School. He was chronicling how they taught leadership and administration, to see if it might transfer to the military. Kind of a cross examination research. There’s been multiple of those throughout the years of the two learning centers.
“Anyway, here he’s detailing the rare space manipulator’s newest research attempt. According to him, she called it: ‘loosening space’, though he seemed lost as to what that meant.”
She must’ve figured out a way to sense space, otherwise she couldn’t loosen it. I might have to give the nighttime attempt a go soon.
“He goes on to describe the very matter of her death. She seemed to be practicing this particular technique, when suddenly she was lifted off the ground and flung several meters into the air. He doesn’t describe how she got down, just that it wasn’t… pretty.”
“Loosening space made her fly?”
“For a time, I think. It seems so to me, though I am no great scholar, that she might’ve loosened space in area around herself-“
“In front of her. She was a Sword.”
“In front of herself, then. When she stepped into it, her connection with the world must’ve weakened, causing her to be rejected.”
“Connection with the world?” Ranvir cocked his head. “Wouldn’t that be an obsidian manipulator? If any of the tethered could have that.”
“Not like that. It’s not particular to the tethered. Everyone has a connection with the world. It’s constantly keeping you in contact with its surface, or at the very least trying. Most scholars think it’s why you fall back down after you jump. It’s the resistance you feel when you’re climbing.”
Ranvir took a step back, rubbing two fingers against his forehead in thought. “So you think she accidentally destroyed that connection?”
“Temporarily. It was obviously restored, according to Ragnus. She probably died on impact, it sounds like she got pretty far up. If you’re going to attempt to recreate this experiment, please do not hesitate to call for me. I will gladly give a more precise notation of the effect.”
“…thanks.” Ranvir looked at the old man, but he didn’t seem to realize what he’d actually said.
“Not a problem, not a problem. We’re all just trying to advance our knowledge.”
“Yeah... Anyway, does it say whether she was a soldier, or mayor, or something like that?”
“Oh, women can’t be soldiers, rare cases excepted like the draft of 1107. It was during a great push from the Ralith, so the alliance upped all countries requirements for both soldiers and tethered. Women with warp were then also drafted into the army, since they needed the least amount of training to become functional fighters.”
“That’s… but…” Ranvir rubbed his forehead even harder, trying to comprehend that nonsense. “Aren’t all of us given this opportunity for our potential as tethered, not for our gender.”
“Some certainly think so. There’s been a growing sentiment within the court that women should be allowed to chose whether they go into administration and leadership or into war. So far, there’s been a lot of vocal opposition, though notably, none from the Queen herself.”
“What do you think?”
“That I’m too old, to weigh on politics that doesn’t affect me.”
“Because you’re a man?”
“Because I’m not a tethered, nor a soldier.”
Ranvir barely managed to quell the frown of reddish brown annoyance. “Thank you for the help.”
“Not a problem, young man.”
Ranvir nodded and headed out of the library, back to the dorms. If Figir’s techniques weren’t developed for the express purpose of battle, then why were they developed? To mimic battle? That made little sense to Ranvir, but maybe she wanted to fight.
If that was the case he doubted she would have survived long with those techniques.