Leveling up the World

Returning to the Academy was somewhat awkward. There were questions on both sides, but neither felt fully comfortable asking. Having a mage control an apprentice was almost as interesting as details regarding the mage expedition itself. On the other hand, defeating a reality chameleon wasn’t a fear that was supposed to be possible. Yet, Dallion strongly suspected that the mage behind it all had gotten the best of both worlds. It was impossible to tell whether the apprentice had come up with the idea to “hire” Dallion, or that had come as a suggestion from the echo within him. Either way, the chameleon had been caught through minimal effort on the mage’s side. Not only that, but he had earned some small favor for dealing with a pack of cutlings before they’d gone out of control. As Nil liked to say, everyone got a little something, only some of the participants got a little less.

“My mage is thankful for your help,” Palag said when they paused for a second evening in the wilderness. “It’s always good to have favors.”

I don’t even know who your mage is. “I’d hope so. And my fee?”

“You’ll get two more disks when we get back. It’s up to you to decide what to use them for. Personally, I’d suggest going for the levels. You can always get more of them later.”

“And class?”

“You’ll still go on a lighter schedule. With your level, you can spend most of the time in the library, or your room.”

“But not outside.”

“No. You have to be an apprentice for that.”

There’s always something, Dallion thought. When he had set off to fulfill this “request” he thought he was getting a pretty good deal. Magic was something money couldn’t buy. Now that he saw what was involved, he felt cheated. Two artifacts and a vague favor… If he were allowed free access to the empire, he could achieve that on his own. It wouldn’t be difficult to find where the disk artifacts were. With a bit of luck, he could find a few dozen.

Fret not, dear boy, you did well, Nil said. Think of it as personal experience. The sooner you learn some lessons, the better. You’re already more famous than most who arrive. Have you noticed how so many people have been approaching you for assistance? That only proves you are valued.

Dallion didn’t say a word. While it was nice to be valued, it was even better to be the one telling others that they were valued. Once he got his reward, he planned to do something that went against everyone’s advice. It was somewhat of a risk, but at least he knew what the benefits would be, and got them immediately.

Back in the learning hall, Dallion was given two artifacts, just as he had been promised. While it was tempting, he resisted entering the items, consuming their magic instead. The effect allowed him to see twice as many books in the library as before. As expected, the vast majority dealt with practical advice on how to extract magic from anything seen in nature. One even specified how to extract magic from creatures, although it came with multiple warnings that the process was risky, coming with the danger that one might get his own magic extracted instead. Interestingly enough, the mage duels had originated as a result of that discovery. Once it was found that mages had the ability to consume magic from others, a set of rules were devised to ensure that the process could occur between people without incurring the wrath of the Purple Moon.

Meanwhile, things in class returned to their normal state. Cliques were formed, as well as enmities. Since being a mage was considered an elite club, regardless of other status, open hostilities weren’t allowed. Even Phoil and his group had decreased their attempts to physically hurt Dallion, not that it would have worked, and resorted to more sophisticated methods, such as oratory. Those attempts were also laughable, but just in case, Dallion received a warning from the Palag not to resort to music, or face severe punishment.

By the end of the second week, there wasn’t a single person who hadn’t passed the leveling up assignment. Moderately pleased with the results, the apprentice started giving out other practical tasks, such as taking magic from a variety of materials. It was a long and tedious series of chores that seemed to have no end. It didn’t matter how well someone did, there was always another task.

It was during that period that class “champions” emerged. Dallion, surprisingly, wasn’t the first. That honor went to the black-haired boy, no doubt instructed by a host of echoes within his realm. One interesting observation Dallion noticed was that even after a month, no one seemed to know the boy’s name. He was certain to have asked multiple times, but was yet to remember the answer. At one point, he was almost convinced that the boy had to be illegitimate, and had its name erased.

The third champion of the cohort was Cheska—a rather assertive girl that was referred to as a prodigy. Looking at her, there was nothing of particular interest. Cheska was smack in the middle between beautiful and plain, her traits weren’t much higher than the class average. She wasn’t overly quiet, but not part of any group, either. It was only when Dallion had taken his bladebow to class and sneakily used the kaleidervisto inside to spy on his classmates that he saw why she was so special: unlike everyone else, Cheska didn’t have a single echo within her. Everything she had achieved was through pure skill and intuition. Furthermore, based on the sections of the books she was reading, Dallion came to the conclusion that her magic trait was a lot over five, possibly over ten as well.

“Cheska’s quite strong, isn’t she?” Dallion whispered during dinner one evening.

“Of course,” the black-haired replied, elegantly eating his soup. They had agreed not to discuss anything regarding the alliance or the rewards outside items. However, that didn’t prevent them from discussing trivial matters in the open. “They say she might be a favored of Galatea. Some mages have already approached her with apprenticeship offers.”

Dallion could help but feel a hint of envy. If he had gotten an apprenticeship offer, he would have taken it on the spot. He knew that the first offers were always the worst. Mages who had something substantial to offer would always make their offers last, regardless if the novice had accepted someone else’s offer or not. All those trying to snatch Cheska early on, were gambling that she wouldn’t know how the game was played. Given that she had refused, they were wrong.

“What’s your offer?” Dallion looked at the noble.

For the first time since he’d known him, a smile appeared on the black-haired’s face.

“Eight,” he said calmly.

“Don’t tell me you’re a favored as well.”

“No, just connected. Four artifacts, three duels. I could have gone for two more, but where’s the hurry?”

A chill swept through Dallion, listening to the explanation. It wasn’t that the boy was evil—as far as perception and music skills could determine he was quite okay for someone in his position. It was the power he wielded that was terrifying. Giving up a level was a pretty big deal, yet several people at the academy had done so willingly: possibly apprentices with little prospects who had sacrificed a bit of their own magic progression to get ahead. And if such practices were normal for children of stature, one could only imagine what noble mages received.

“You?”

“I’m a five,” Dallion didn’t even try to be evasive.

“Better reach ten. It’ll be difficult passing with less, even for you.”

“No problem.” If children were supposed to reach that level without duels in a few months, he’d manage as well.

As another week passed, the class was divided into three groups. Nothing was said openly, but it was obvious to anyone that skill categories were formed. Those who were skilled had Palag criticize their every mistake, those that weren’t got the majority of his attention, and the extremely skilled—they were left to progress at their own pace.

Precisely one month after Dallion had joined the Academy, the first major change took place. He, and everyone else with a magic trait of five or more, was taken to another room. Only eight people were there, although from what Nil shared, others would slowly join in upon meeting the requirements.

“I would say that congratulations are in order,” the fury began, “but the truth is that you’re expected to reach rank two in a month. A few of you managed to do so sooner, but chose to remain till the end of the time period. No doubt you have echoes of far more experienced mages giving you better advice than I ever could. However, that doesn’t make you experts yet.”

The fury drew several circles in the air. A series of scrolls appeared, then slowly floated in front of every student.

“So far, you’re learned to sense, extract, and consume magic. Now, you’ll start learning the building blocks of spells. Things are about to get a lot more difficult than before. If in the past you had only magic to worry about, now you must advance your skills as well.” He drew a single symbol in the air. It was almost shaped like a letter, glowing a magnificent purple. “There are three pillars of spellcraft: magic,” he extended one finger, “spelling, and combining.”

Spelling? Dallion chuckled. Thankfully, the fury’s habit of blocking all sound while speaking made the action pass unnoticed.

“Everything in this world is created based on the power of existence. The Order of the Seven Moons call it spark. Scholars of the past referred to it as ambrosia. Whatever the name, it is the building blocks that create this world and everything in it, including you, me, or even the awakening realms.”

Phoil raised his hand.

“Yes?” the fury paused, allowing the large child to speak.

“Does that mean that we can extract magic from anything? Even if it doesn’t have magic?”

“Everything has magic to a certain degree. The difference between magic and spark is that spark can only be extracted by the Moons themselves. However, the reverse is not true. Using the correct symbols, created with the right amount and speed of magic, we can create spark.”

Now it was Cheska’s turn to raise her hand. The fury nodded her direction.

“There are spells that let us destroy objects. How is that different?”

“You’re still creating spells. It doesn’t matter that their purpose is to destroy. However, even with them, you cannot extract the spark within them, just destroy what already exists.”

Dallion gaped. Things seemed a lot clearer now, but at the same time, the fascination was gone. Although crude, the explanations reminded him of quantum mechanics… or at least what he imagined quantum mechanics would be. In less than a minute all the charm and fascination of learning magic had completely evaporated, replaced by the cold logic of science. On the positive side, scholar skills were going to be of a huge advantage.

“You’ve been focusing on pulling magic threads of different speed and strength. Now you’ll learn how to manipulate it to create symbols. Also, you’ll start learning the various varieties, and before any of you get any bright ideas, there are over one thousand discovered spell symbols. To be passable at spellcraft, you need to be perfectly acquainted with thirty-nine.”

Is that true, Nil? Dallion asked.

Quite true, dear boy. But also, very false. New symbols are discovered every few years, however, a large part of them remain unusable in spells.

Are they grouped into categories? Dallion picked up the scroll and unrolled it. There was one single symbol on it—a circle.

Naturally. That is something that cannot be taught. Part of learning the symbol is also learning what it does.

You’re only told about something once you know about it. Dallion sighed. Once again, he was reminded of why he hated school.