Book 6. Chapter 24 |
"It's not that I don't appreciate your confidence in my abilities, but I'll need you to give me a little more than that," Martin said blandly.
Brin wasn't sure he believed that, but he'd come here asking for Martin's help so he might as well play along. "My bad. I have an Achievement called [Terrifying] that makes me give off an 'aura of menace', whatever that means."
"My congratulations," said Martin.
"Thank you. But the problem is that I don't want to be scary. Not all the time," said Brin. It was best to get grips on this now, before it caused any problems. The other students hadn't seemed to be affected by it. Maybe it came down to high mental resistance of their own, or maybe not. It could be part of why everyone was so quick to agree with him, and why every eye seemed to turn his way when he entered a room. Especially for the girls, a little jolt of anxiety might be mistaken for excitement, or even interest.
Martin tapped his chin in thought. "I should be able to assist with that. There are some techniques I can teach that will enable you to consciously control that power. I'm rather busy with the Spring Intake at the moment, but if you could return in two weeks--"
"Yes, that's no problem at all!" Brin said, a little relieved that his lessons with the [Mind Mage] would be delayed.
"I'll have you read Meditations on Meditation by Zeno Zapprini, and my own Instruments of Consciousness. If you don't wish to purchase it, I can--"
"Buying it isn't a problem," said Brin.
"And I'll have you do something else for me. This will help me to help you."
"Tell me how you got those scars."
Brin looked down at himself. "Which ones? And how much time do you have?"
"Choose one. A significant scar. The first one you think of."
Brin nodded, trying to decide if it was too late to just turn around and walk away. This kind of emotional knowledge would give a [Mind Mage] all sorts of hooks into him. At the same time, [Mind Mages] that took advantage of people wouldn't last very long someplace as paranoid as the Tower. And Martin's presence was so small, his manners so mild, that Brin thought this wouldn't be much different than talking to the wall.
"There's a scar here," Brin said, pointing to his chest, "that's different from the rest. [Scarred, but Healing] usually turns my scars into thin white lines because it knows that's what I think looks cool. But I wanted this one to stay as a circle. It was made by a boil, a hex from a [Witch] named Bianca. She'd been poisoning and healing the town in some mad scheme to power-level herself, but I caught her in the act. As soon as she realized that I had caught her messing with my mind, she tried to kill me with disease. I stabbed her to death. The entire time, she begged me to wait, to stop and talk, but I couldn't risk it. I kept the scar to remind myself why I'm still alive. Because I killed without hesitation."
Martin made no reaction. "[Terrifying], indeed. I'll see you in two weeks."
After leaving the Mind Track homeroom, Brin still had no idea what it really looked like in there. He spent a full five minutes going back over his mind trying to suss out if there were still any Mental Manipulation spells affecting him. He even split his mind and then whammied the other minds with [Say What's True] to be as suspicious as possible, but he found nothing. Martin had let go of all his holds as soon as Brin was out of sight.
Just as he was finishing up, he heard the door to the Mind homeroom open. A second later, another wave of mental compulsion slammed into his mind. It didn’t feel like Martin’s privacy ward–that had been non-negotiable, but also subtle. Instead, he felt an intense spike of wrongness in the universe. He wasn’t supposed to be here. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He needed to leave before he saw something he shouldn’t see.
Brin very deliberately turned around to face his attacker. [Wyrdic Inspect] called her a level 31 [Fate Weaver]. The Wyrd called his attention to her authority over her clothing, and the insult she’d given him by attacking him from behind like that. The Wyrd also told him how desperately she did not want him to see her walking out of the Mind Track, or even to know who she was. Her name was Monica Mascarenha.
“Don’t do that,” Brin growled.
She flinched from his glare and raised her hands as if to ward him off. “I’m sorry! I just… I didn’t… I didn’t want…”
“So turn it off already!” Brin shouted.
Monica stumbled back to the wall, trying to edge around him, but she didn’t let go of the power she was pushing at his mind. “I will! I promise I will! Just as soon as you forget…”
“I’m not going to forget,” said Brin.
She shrieked in alarm at the calmly spoken words, much more than she had at his shouting, and turned and fled.
Even after she was gone, she wasn’t polite enough to remove the mental magic she’d left with him. It was now pressuring him to go about his day and pay no mind to the odd [Weaver] girl. He was more than its match, though. Between [Filial Piety], [Menacing Mendacity], and Aberthol’s remembered knowledge, he was able to isolate the effects on his mind and use his mental resistance to grind it away to nothing. After that he went through his glass ring and examined his memories, making sure nothing was missing.
He walked as he worked, not wanting to surprise someone else as they left the Mind room and repeat the whole process. Once he was sure his mind was wholly his own, he began to plot. He’d be reporting Monica to Lumina–that was a no-brainer. But what about Martin? Was it a complete coincidence that right after Brin promised Martin that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone who started messing with his head, he got an opportunity to prove it? If it really was Martin’s idea, then he had successfully called Brin’s bluff.
He hadn’t even considered killing Monica. It hadn’t crossed his mind. He didn’t know if his survival instincts had dulled, or if he was just stronger than he was before.
It definitely put a dark cloud on the already uncomfortable idea of returning here in two weeks. He was upset and unnerved, but strangely found a slight smile on his face. It was so nice to not be bored anymore.
He decided he still had time for the Circle of Fire, and maybe a more straight-forward power would help him salvage his afternoon. He headed back to the homeroom for the Fire Track, since the main Circles were aligned with their Tracks and had no real need for secrecy.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Tonin met him on the way to ask if there was anything he required, and reminded him of the time, unsubtly hinting that he preferred they leave now so that Brin would have an hour to wash up and change before dinner, but Brin told him that he had one more thing to do.
The Fire homeroom was strict and spartan in appearance. Walls of stone and floors of steel, and there were steel folding chairs set up for when large crowds came here to be lectured to like yesterday when they'd gotten their schedules. A hole in the wall for a fireplace, but yesterday it had been cold and there was no sign of wood.
Unlike yesterday, the fireplace was full of a bright and roaring flame, though it still had no visible fuel. Demiana Esper sat on a rocking chair right next to it, addressing a group of a dozen students who were sitting on the floor. He recognized all of them from intake. Most were [Students of Magic], there were three [Mages of Flame], and Gyromia the [Gravity Mage].
As he drew nearer, he began to feel a bit of the flame's effect. It pushed away any of the chill he felt from the cold stone and steel of the room, and made him feel peaceful, more at home. So soon after his run-in with Martin and Monica, he immediately put his mental defenses up, but he didn't think it was actually mental manipulation. This was Language--that flame had been summoned with words of comfort and cheer. The same way that the Language could be used to make flames hotter, it could also make them warmer. Spiritually warmer.
Normally, he would probably enjoy this, but right after his run-in with the Mind Circle he was in no mood for it and and couldn’t get comfortable.
Demiana, he could tell, wanted him to be comfortable. She had seemed so cold and severe when standing up on the platform being introduced as the Dean of the Fire Track, and her Class, [Grand Magus of Detonating Fire] had done a lot to reinforce that impression. But now she seemed like a sweet old grandmother, despite how there was no gray in her hair and she was neither plump nor frail-looking. When she saw him, she gestured for him to join them.
Brin stepped over to sit in an empty spot near the center of the group, and by the time he got there, the empty spot was next to Gyromia.
"Welcome, welcome. We were just getting started. Who can catch Brin up on what we've been talking about so far?"
Gyromia raised her hand, and Demiana nodded to her. "In words fairer and more eloquent than mine, her ladyship Demiana hath undertaken to unfold unto us the terms for entrance into the Circle of Flame."
"Yes, thank you, and can someone tell him what those requirements are?" asked Demiana.
A [Student of Magic] girl raised her hand to answer, but then looked to the ground rather than meet his eyes when she answered. "You, um, have to understand what [Summon Flame] does. Like, she asked us why we don't have [Shape Flame] the way other [Mages] have [Shape Air] and [Shape Water]."
Brin thought he understood. It was sort of like how they didn't have a [Shape Light] Skill. "Makes sense. Fire isn't a physical element the way water and earth are."
He thought he saw some frowns cast in his direction, but Demiana nodded, smiling congenially. "Exactly correct. No, he's right, now. The rest of the Tower is only recently coming around to finally reject the hogwash that is the Four Fundamental Elements Theory, but we [Fire Mages] have always known the truth. Fire isn't an element. It's an interaction. You are not summoning something new into the world, you are compelling the existing elements, mostly the air, to release their energy in a specific way. Fire is not an object, it is an action. And I'd like you all to consider this: Fire is not something that you are. Fire is what you do."
One of the young men objected. "But you can summon a flame that burns your own Mana instead of the air, so in this case, you're directly summoning a flame, as an element."
Demiana sat back and leaned her head on her hand. "Any [Mage] can expel their Mana, and we of flame can also ignite it. When you learn Cool Flame, you'll see that these are two separate abilities. Regardless, I think that's enough spell theory for now. Let's move on to our other little tradition. Some say that [Fire Mages] are [War Mages], but we are not. Fire is just as versatile, if not more, than Water or Air. So I'd like each of you to answer me this: Outside of combat, what will you use your Fire for?"
She let them volunteer to answer, but the first student said he'd like to warm people who are cold, she said, "Dear, please stretch your imagination a little more than that."
She was a good deal more appreciative when the next girl who dared to answer claimed she liked to cook.
Brin answered, "I like making glass."
"But doesn't that have more to do with Earth than Fire? Once the glass melts, Fire's job is done," said Demiana.
Brin thought that was a little unfair, since wasn't cooking the same way? “It’s not as easy as it sounds. You have to get the flame really hot, and I wanted to find a way to do it without magic. The secret is to pump lots and lots of air into the furnace.”
Demiana nodded, satisfied, and moved onto the next student, until only Gyromia was left.
“No, I lack for fire.”
“But your gravity, it transforms, does it not? Don’t worry, child, you’re welcome here,” said Demiana.
“In that case, my magic was never well suited for the fray. I would fain ply my craft in matters of conveyance,” said Gyromia.
“That will do,” said Demiana. “Welcome to the Circle of Flame, initiates. The doors will open to you now.”
Their new privileges brought them to a larger, but less impressive set of rooms than the Illusionist Circle initiates had access to. There were study rooms, stone and steel like the homeroom so you could hear the slightest pin drop. There was a dueling arena, and a shooting gallery for ranged magic, though you had to bring your own weapons. A small common room sat in the middle, but the only amenities were hard stone benches and an empty fireplace. Despite that, the common room was packed with second and third year students.
The one place Brin was interested in was the library, but he found that the door wouldn’t open. A sign off to the side told him he wouldn’t need to become a full Circle member, instead he just had to prove he could cast Cool Flame.
After asking around, he learned that there weren’t organized lessons. He just had to convince someone to teach it to him. Lumina’s face immediately flashed into his mind, but she had better things to do than teach him the most basic level spells. After a bit more prying, he saw that there was a bulletin board for requests like that.
He was halfway done filling out a card for the request, when an older student volunteered to teach him and whoever he wanted to bring. No reward was necessary; the chance to do a favor for the son of the Mystical Elements was reward enough. They set a time for after class the next day, and that was that.
Brin was starting to see why Hogg had insisted that the Circles would be so valuable for him.
He considered spending some time in the practice range, but there really wasn’t much of a point; he’d rather go back home and see if Hogg or Lumina were around. He really thought he deserved some answers on what had happened to drag them away yesterday.
When he left the Fire area, he found Tonin waiting for him.
“If it pleases you, my lord, I have news,” said Tonin, though he clearly had news whether it pleased Brin or not.
“Do tell,” said Brin.
“It’s official. All students are allowed to bring their own servants into the Tower. And there’s more. The Tower is offering us work while we’re here, when we’re not needed by our masters, of course, and we’ll be compensated for our time accordingly,” said Tonin. He kept his eyes half-lidded; a poker player’s trick to try to seem like he didn’t care that much, but Brin couldn’t miss the intensity in his gaze.
“So you’ll get double pay from both Hogg and the Tower? Congratulations,” said Brin.
“I take it you’re agreeable to the idea?” asked Tonin.
“Of course. Tonin, having someone on the inside among the serving staff is going to be terrific for us.”
“Very good, my lord” said Tonin, and seemed to bounce a bit before he remembered to be world-weary and cynical again. “Second order of business, a representative of young master Vitor approached me about your duel. I should let you know that with even the smallest attempt at reconciliation, we could probably call this off.”
“No, I want to do it,” said Brin.
“I thought as much. Would tomorrow after classes be convenient?”
“Better make it an hour after class.”
“Very good, my lord,” said Tonin. “Then the last item. We’re walking the wrong way. We should make for the elevators to the fourth floor. I’ve found a very decent set of public washrooms there. We can use them to clean you up and get you presentable.”
Brin looked down at himself. “For what? And how am I not presentable? You dressed me, Tonin.”
“You are to take dinner in Lumina’s suite,” said Tonin.
Brin felt his spirits lift. “That’s great! But Lumina won’t care if I–”
“His Radiance the [Archmage of Chaos] will be in attendance.”