ImmovableMage
patreon
003 Prologue: Path of a Mage
🕑 Added 2022-06-08 10:23:25 +0000 UTC– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 209, Season of the Setting Sun, Day 71 –
“THAT WASTE-DAMNED PUS WEASEL!” cursed Brynn. She kept her hands on the door handle and gripped it so hard that her knuckles were showing white.
“DUNG. GOBBLING. PEST. BEETLE.”
After taking another deep breath – or ten – Brynn was finally ready to leave her soundproofed office.
“Do you know where he is?” questioned Samuel.
“In his room,” replied Brynn. “He did not answer, but I could sense his mana from outside.” She hissed. “I swear Pelliana will eat some dirt for this.”
“Just let me know if you need an alibi, Whaka,” quipped Samuel.
Brynn stopped her mumbled curses in order to exhale some air through her nose.
“Nama, I’m sorry,” said Samuel. “It was not a good idea to involve Pelliana. You were right.”
Brynn shook her head and grimaced. “Not your fault. Even I did not believe that Pelliana would simply throw it out at the boy the first chance she gets. Without even waiting for the meeting we had planned.”
The two arrived at Terry’s door.
“Terry?” called Brynn. There was no response. In the silence, they could hear the muffled sounds of someone crying.
Brynn was about to unlock and open the door when Samuel stopped her. He seemed conflicted and hesitant. After a moment of pause, he shook his head and met Brynn’s gaze. “Please, let me.”
Brynn was stunned. This was definitely not the kind of task that her life’s chosen would volunteer for. In a slight daze, she nodded with mouth agape.
“Whaka Bjorln once told me hope first, pity later,” whispered Samuel. More to himself than to the woman at his side. After mustering his resolve, Samuel unlocked the door and stepped into Terry’s room.
The boy sat on the floor with his back to his bed. He was hugging his knees and burying his face in them. His cherished novel, Path of a Mage: Legend of the Veilbinder, was lying next to him.
When Terry noticed Samuel’s presence, he wiped away his tears.
“Don’t,” exclaimed Samuel. “Personally, I have never found tears to be of much help, but wiping them away surely does not help either. Whatever inspired our tears may be shameful, but there is no shame in crying.”
Terry just sat there silently. He was staring at the floor with red eyes.
“Terry, I do not believe there is anything for you to be ashamed of,” stressed Samuel sincerely. “In fact, I think you can be proud of your performance this season.”
“Pfft!” Terry uttered an incredulous hiss through closed lips. He glared at his instructor and shook his head.
“Your rate of improvement in mana foundation has been nothing but astonishing,” stressed Samuel.
Terry looked to the floor again. He was still shaking his head.
Samuel continued: “You—”
Terry cut him off with an outraged shout: “I AM ASPECT IMPAIRED! WHAT DOES IT MATTER?!”
Samuel kept his gaze calm and tried to find the right words. “Aspect impairments can be irregular. You may still progress as a mage. There may still be spells you will be able to cast.”
“And so what?!” Terry’s voice was cracking, tinged with the timbre of despair. “I cannot cast any of the basic spells that are required for the examination next cycle. I—”
“Is that why you came to the Academy?” interjected Samuel challengingly. “To pass examinations?”
“What?” Terry was stupefied by the question.
“If not, and if instead you came here to learn, then learn!” demanded Samuel. “If you cannot cast spells, then improve your mana foundation! Or even start mana cultivation! If you still desire to do spellwork, then keep looking for spells!”
Samuel firmly held Terry’s gaze. “As long as you demonstrate an ability and willingness to learn, you have my word that Instructor Brynn and I will be there to guide you. As long as you keep improving in whatever aspect you can, we will be there to try new spells with you for however long it takes.”
Samuel gave a single nod. “Yes, you are most definitely going to fail the next examination.” He shrugged. “So what? The only path this will bar for you is the way into Arcana’s government. Was this your dream when you came here? Did you want to become an official bureaucrat?”
“No, but…” Terry’s eyes went to his favorite novel, and he grimaced with despair. “What good is a mage without spells?”
“Well, that depends on the mage, doesn’t it?” Samuel shot back, and he almost sounded angry. “Is that the reason you are drawn to this story? Is that why you admire the Veilbinder?” He scoffed. “Because of his talent for spellwork?”
Now it was Terry’s turn to scoff: “What would you know of the Veilbinder?”
“Of the dramatized version for children?” Samuel asked pointedly. “Not much. However, I am quite fond of the historic account of the Veilbinder’s legend. It reminds me of my accepted brother.” He took a deep breath. “I have a copy of the first published account by Saint Petra, one of the Veilbinder’s later companions.” He smiled slightly. “If my book does not show as much wear and tear as your novel, then only because it is of better making.”
Samuel shook his head and sighed. “The problem with editions like yours is that they tell a completely misleading account. They have to leave out some parts that are not suitable for children. They leave out some other parts or shift emphasis depending on which country the edition is published in.” He scowled. “In the end, the story that is left emphasizes all the wrong aspects.
“They will tell you that the Veilbinder was a rare talent in the tower he was trained in. This is true enough, but his talent was not what truly stood out. It was rare, but not an extreme outlier.”
Samuel’s tone became solemn. “Remember that the Veilbinder’s time was before the Enlightenment – before people realized that the gods they worshipped were nothing more than powerful magical beings, back when the cults of the false gods were still respected and held much influence.
“Back then, the cult that dressed itself as the dominant religion taught that mages were sinful existences, less than folk and more like beasts, existences who at best deserve a fate to be used as mindless tools. As soon as a child exhibited signs of magic, it was thrown into a tower to be imprisoned and guarded by cultist fanatics.
“No privacy. No intimacy. No real life. They would be instructed in magic, true, but every day they would be told that they were evil incarnate. Every day, they would be tested with rituals. Every day, they would be at their captor’s mercy. Every day, they were expected to be obedient, even if commanded to die.
“Countless mages died of either the prescribed abuse during the rituals or the arbitrary abuse by the guarding fanatics. Most mages died of suicide. Of those that survived, only a few preserved enough sanity to not eventually turn into murdering menaces.”
Samuel sighed and took a deep breath. “The Veilbinder is quoted as saying that he never really made it out of the tower, that he could never become a kind person, and that all his apparent kindness was truly rooted in pride – pride in the person he aimed to be.”
Even when Samuel paused, Terry was too stunned by the instructor’s emotional speech to interject. He had barely ever heard Instructor Samuel talk in anything but a dry or critical tone.
Samuel continued with sincere feelings like before: “In the eyes of everyone else, the Veilbinder appeared to be a person greater than life itself, filled with compassion and strength. However, while your actions characterize you for others, your own thoughts define you for yourself.
“Until the end, the Veilbinder saw himself as a crippled being, who could never allow himself to do as he felt. After all, if he had followed his inclinations when he was younger, then he would have committed suicide, and if he had done so when he was older, he might have turned into the evil creature the cultists proclaimed mages to be. That was unacceptable to him.
“The Veilbinder was about to be executed for aiding escapees. He was neither involved in the planning, nor was he among the mages that fled. However, when the attempt was discovered, the Veilbinder stepped up and temporarily blocked the pursuers.
“It was only luck that allowed the Veilbinder to face a war instead of a simple execution. If it was not for the First Great Crisis of the era – if it was not for the swarm of mana cursed entering our realm through the Deep – then there would not have been such a desperate need for mages to throw into the fight. There would have been no intervention by the local government. The Veilbinder’s story would have ended right then on that day.”
Samuel shook his head slowly while scowling. “The fictionalized versions mostly focus on the Veilbinder and his companions succeeding against impossible odds during the Second Great Crisis. Unfortunately, they leave out the part in which the Veilbinder knowingly sacrificed his entire mana foundation.
“Back then, all mages who had lost their mana foundation had also lost their sense of self. That was a fate that the Veilbinder considered worse than death, because to him this was precisely what the cultists wanted him to become – an obedient puppet.
“Saint Petra describes the Veilbinder’s tears after the battle, when he implored his companions for a promise that they would not allow him to suffer such a fate and live, when he begged his best friends to help him die if it came to that.”
Samuel’s own eyes glistened slightly. “Fortunately, the Veilbinder’s sacrifice differed from the other rituals and he kept his sense of self. Without his mana foundation, the Veilbinder joined the fight in the Deep and progressed to create the most astonishing parts of his legend.”
Samuel stared intently at Terry. “If the Veilbinder had not gone into the Deep despite his lack of mana foundation, then he would have never found his way into the other realms. The Veilbinder would have never discovered new magic systems. The dwarves would never have been able to do spellwork. The Deep would forever have been the dominion of the deathblood mana cursed. The Twin Gods of Death would never have been killed and there would never have been an Enlightenment.”
Samuel lowered his gaze and he took a deep breath. “My accepted brother and I once visited the dwarven Deeprock City – the old capital of the stone dwellers. To this day, the dwarves revere the Veilbinder as their honorary ancestor: the only human paragon. We got a chance to see the original work by Saint Petra, as well as the room in which she lived when she compiled all available records and recorded the Veilbinder’s story.”
Samuel smiled wistfully. “It was fascinating to see all the sketches of the Veilbinder and his companions. There were so many notes and sketches – way too many for a single book. When Saint Petra and the other companions put together the first version for publication, they had to choose what to include and what to emphasize. Emphasis. That thought stuck with me.
“The first published edition contained a hand-written dedication on the last even page. It was a dedication not to the legendary Veilbinder, to the Human Paragon, or to the Hero of the Realms, but to their departed friend whom they deeply missed.
“Next to the dedication and on the last filled page of the book, the companions added a single sketch. That was the only image they included in the entire book. The sketch did not depict the Veilbinder waltzing into battle with an arsenal of active spells. It was not the Veilbinder standing victorious above his enemies or celebrating victory. None of that.
“Instead, it was a sketch of the Veilbinder at his lowest. It was the moment the Veilbinder figured out what they were up against during the Second Great Crisis – armies of mana cursed led by a near invulnerable immortal whose abilities and experience in magic surpassed those of the Veilbinder by far. It was the moment when everyone was looking up to the Veilbinder for salvation and when he himself was completely out of ideas.
“In the sketch, the Veilbinder is sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall behind him, with a thousand-yard stare to the front, arms outstretched and resting on his knees. That is how the Veilbinder’s companions chose to remember him.
“I believe they chose this sketch because – faced with impossible odds and paralyzing despair – it was also the moment shortly before the Veilbinder stood up. He did so, not with a grand plan or path to victory, but instead with a defiant will to push forward and to focus on the things that he could do before figuring out how to do more.
“That is the true Path of a Mage,” stressed Samuel with a tone that allowed no refutation. “It is not about where you end up or which road you take, but about always moving forward. It is not about the powers you want to have, but about following the person you want to become.”
Terry sat completely still. He had even forgotten to blink for a while.
“My copy of the Path of a Mage did not originally belong to me,” said Samuel with a sorrowful voice. “It belonged to my accepted brother Olgorn…” He took a deep breath. “After Olgorn died, I cried for weeks…”
Samuel lowered his gaze, looking at the floor in front of Terry’s feet. “It did not help.” His eyes became watery, and he slowly shook his head. “Not at all.” He sighed. “Eventually, Olgorn’s birth brother paid me a visit. He tried to convince me that Olgorn’s death was not my fault, and he left some of Olgorn’s belongings with me.”
A tear ran down Samuel’s face. Almost reflexively, he raised a hand and wet two of his fingers. He did not wipe the tear away, but looked at his wet fingertips as one might examine an old familiar picture.
Samuel shook his head forcefully to regain some composure. “Truthfully, I have never felt quite worthy of the book my whaka left me.” He stared intently at Terry. “You, however, could be different. If you keep up your learning progress – both in mana foundation and in the supplementary lessons for testing new spells – then I will happily lend you the copy. If you persevere long enough, I promise the book will be yours.”
Without waiting for a reaction, Samuel walked back towards the door. His tears were drying undisturbed. He gripped the door handle and turned back once more to face the boy. “Take the day off to collect your thoughts. Tomorrow, Instructor Brynn and I expect to see you in class. If you ever have any worries again, then don’t lock yourself in here. We would rather share your worries than have you worrying us.
“See you tomorrow, Terry.” Samuel stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He was met with Brynn’s gentle gaze.
Brynn was slightly taller than Samuel. Saying nothing, she took his face in her hands and softly kissed his forehead before giving him a kiss on the lips. “Whaka Samuel, my life, I love you.”
Samuel smiled back at her with red eyes. “Nama, thank you, Whaka Brynn. I love you too, my life. However, we are not supposed to show affection inside the Academy.”
“Yeah, I know,” acknowledged Brynn without a care. “But I felt like it.” Together, they set off towards the work that awaited them in their offices.
Eventually Brynn spoke up. “Whaka Samuel, you do realize your shared fandom for the Veilbinder did not really cover the topic of the Greenhouse and where Terry is supposed to go after being expelled, right?”
Samuel’s eyes opened slightly wider. “Not until now I haven’t, no.”
“For the Greenhouse, the fact that Terry is aspect impaired will be a scandal.” Brynn pointed out. “If one of his parents was a Seedbearer, then they will probably become banned as well.”
“Mhmh. The Greenhouse is definitely not an option. Maybe there is a chance that Terry’s parents will still accept him––?” Samuel paused himself when seeing Brynn’s skeptical face. “An infinitesimal chance, perhaps. Possible, but improbable and not to be counted on.”
“They did not care for him until his performance in the entrance exam,” grumbled Brynn. “More likely that they are going to denounce him and rescind his last name.”
Samuel nodded. “I will talk to whanau Isille and Bjorln. They are excellent parents and would never leave a child abandoned.”
“And their twins could use a whaka their own age.” Brynn grinned. “I am sure the chipmunks would be delighted to have Terry as their accepted brother and have his back.” She snorted with amusement. “Although Terry may have his hands full trying to watch their backs.” She had to giggle when thinking about the two troublemaking dwarven kids.
***
The leaves on the trees outside the Academy were changing from green to crimson. The double Season of the Sun was nearing its end and the Rising Moon was about to begin.
Terry had attended class again. At first, the boy simply did not know what else to do. Therefore, he did as instructed. He continued to excel in the mana foundation classes and Instructor Samuel made it a point to discuss both Terry’s progress and potential opportunities for improvement during every class.
While spellwork classes were still a demotivating torment, they had become less bad ever since Terry had stopped looking around at the successful spells and excited faces of his fellow students.
Terry was already familiar with the spell structures for this cycle and understood that he could not prime them. That was why he used the time for mana foundation exercises instead. Besides the regular exercises shared by Instructor Samuel, there were also some fun mana games which Instructor Brynn had introduced to him.
The official exercises comprised shaping specific structures, interlinking different structures, or moving the structures a certain way at a specific and mostly constant speed. In contrast, the games focused more on maximum speed, reaction time, coordination, and reach. Many of the games were copies or extensions of regular sport games.
In some games, they tried to shoot a mana-shaped ball through a hoop or goal. You could play it on your own and change the distance of the target or you could play it with others. Terry’s favorite game was a multiplayer game that Brynn called mana skeet shooting – apparently, it was loosely based on a game that did not involve mana and instead used clay for targets.
Each player had to maintain a specific number of mana-shaped disks and was allowed a specific number of mana-shaped balls at a time. You earned points for hitting the disk of another player with your mana ball. In the easiest stages, the disk was stationary. With more challenging rules, you could move your disk in order to avoid getting hit. A stronger player could give a handicap by maintaining more disks or allowing the other player more balls.
Terry really enjoyed playing the latter version against Instructor Brynn – even though he usually ended up losing. He thought about challenging Instructor Samuel, but Brynn just gave an exaggerated head shake when he passed the idea by her.
Later, Instructor Samuel had made good on his promise and at the end of every second week, Instructor Samuel allowed Terry to stay back in his office and read a chapter of the first edition historical account of the Path of a Mage.
Terry was flabbergasted when confronted with the huge tome. It was over five times as thick as his cherished novel. That thickness did not even account for the fact that the letters were smaller, the lines of words were closer to each other, and there was half the margin. That book made even his Introductory Spellwork look like a restaurant menu in comparison.
At one chapter a fortnight, Terry would probably take years to finish it. Unfortunately, and to Terry’s immense regret, Instructor Samuel firmly refused every request for permission to read more than that. Terry had even attempted to recruit Instructor Brynn in order to convince Samuel, but to both his astonishment – and disappointment – Instructor Brynn rejected his request just as firmly.
Maybe they will make an exception now that I have more time on my hands?
Terry stepped into Brynn’s office. The boy still looked tense and strained, but it was noticeably better than the week before.
“Greetings, Instructor Brynn. Thank you for your time!”
“Good day, Terry. And thank you for your time as well.” Brynn smiled widely. “I need the practice if I am to break the tie with Samuel. I safely win in the clay version, but in the mana version, he is just too damn crafty.”
“Uhh…” Terry had no idea how to respond to that.
Realizing that she might have overshared a bit, Brynn cleared her throat. “Nevermind. You are earlier than usual. Is anything the matter?”
“Not really. Only that Instructor Pelliana has exempted me from spellwork classes.” Terry shrugged. “She said that it would be a waste of everyone’s time.”
Brynn’s right eye twitched, and she exhaled slowly. “Of course she did.” After a click of her tongue, she continued. “Well, luckily, Instructor Samuel and I have already prepared a productive use of your time.”
“Oh?” Terry was all ears.
“We are bringing you into the city to meet some new instructors,” explained Brynn.
“For what?” Terry had never really left the Academy after his admissions.
“Mana cultivation.”
This combination of words still stung a bit when Terry heard it… Okay, it stung a lot.
Terry frowned. “Isn’t mana cultivation simply spellwork without spells? Instructor Samuel is already guiding me in mana foundation.”
“Ahh, I see.” Brynn’s eyes widened and her head shifted from shaking to nodding and back. “No. Not even close. I mean, yes in some way, but no nonetheless.”
What? The confusion washed away Terry’s frown. Only a wrinkled brow remained.
“Uhm, puh-blblbl…” Brynn puffed her cheeks and then sharply exhaled air through her closed lips. “Not my particular area of expertise and they will explain it much better than I could, but…”
Brynn scrunched up her face while searching for the right words. “To make it short, mana can be used in many ways, and spellwork is just one of the potential uses. Your mana foundation is essential to all applications, but on its own, it is not an active component.
“A proper mana cultivator finds active uses for mana, just like a proper mage does. They are not just training their foundation in order to enjoy the passive benefits of a large mana pool. The two we want you to meet have a lower mana foundation than I. Nevertheless, without my spellwork or constructs, I could not put up a fight against them. They have decades of experience as Guardians and to this day remain part of their reserve members. Either of them could knock me out without breaking much of a sweat.”
Terry’s mind had ground to a screeching halt when he had picked up the word ‘Guardians.’
Woah. Awesome!
Hearing about the opportunity to meet actual Guardians finally sparked some genuine excitement in the boy.
The Guardians were just as famous in the empires as the Guild. Both accepted missions related to dealing with dungeons and the threat of mana cursed, mana-corrupted beasts, or magical beings in general.
If a new dungeon was discovered, they would be in charge of assessing the threat level. They were in charge of isolating and guarding the dungeon if it was too dangerous. The latter task was mostly covered by the Guardians as opposed to the Guild.
Members of the Guild were more like freelancers. From the members’ perspective, they were mostly on their own. If they successfully completed a mission, they would get to keep much more of the reward than a Guardian would. If they took on a mission in which they were out of their depth, nobody would stop them either. If they got injured or died, then that was that.
In contrast, the Guardians always acted as a whole. They would accept a mission and then distribute it internally. The Guardians provided training, and they took the member’s known ability and experience into account during distribution. They kept a larger portion of the reward in order to finance training, insurance, and pensions.
Missions that involved extreme danger, high urgency, or a very specialized skill set were usually covered by the Guild – as long as the client could pay. By contrast, routine tasks would normally be handled by the Guardians. While most individuals with incredible power were part of the Guild, the Guardians had their fair share of famous individuals as well.
Of course, Arcana also had its own army, but the army normally did not get involved in dungeon business or minor affairs. The army’s main purpose was to deal with large external threats. Thanks to the barrier, there were very few of those in Arcana.
While the cities had their own city guard, it focused on defense and keeping order. The city guard frequently lacked the required expertise to deal with threats of magical creatures effectively.
I wonder what they are like, thought Terry.
“Anyway, there will be time for that tomorrow.” Brynn changed topics. “For now, we should see how you do with the Locate Water spell.”
***
