“Advancement is often considered by mages to be a goal in itself. As though all of their problems might be solved by the ability to exploit one additional embodiment and paradigm, or hold one additional circle’s worth of mana. Too often, the basics are overlooked. Spellbooks are half empty. Real growth is not in a single direction.”
—The Trouble With Mages: Why Rushing Advancement Ruins Your Future, Melia Fairbloom
He jerked awake as though he had just landed on the burnt and broken earth of Croesia herself. The floor of the brig wasn’t much more comfortable that that rock would have been. Memories of the night before came creeping back to him slowly, so much more slowly than the perfect recollection of his lost world came to him every time he tried to sleep.
Instructor Aurea had been summoned from her sleep, arriving looking slightly less prim and proper than she had when collecting Sylvas and Kaya from the portal. She had conferred with her colleagues, and eventually approached Sylvas to inform him that he was forbidden from making modifications to any spells for the foreseeable future, that he would be confined to the brig until further notice, and that he would have a commendation noted on his permanent record for the personal danger that he had been willing to endure for the good of his unit that would likely lead to a choice of favorable placement when he graduated.
He had not even been on the planet for one day yet.
Beyond the ward-line that was keeping him trapped inside of his cell, a hooded figure stood watching him. The same dark robes of the Harbingers. The same odd stillness of the one among the grand masters that he did not know. “You?”
She did not respond.
Sylvas tried a different tact. “What are you doing here?”
“Observing.” Came the predictable reply.
Sylvas got to his feet, still staring into the dark cowl of the robes, trying to make out a face, “What do you want with me? Wasn’t the death of my world enough entertainment?”
He slammed a fist against the ward, and for a moment it flared opaque. By the time that flash of light had faded, he was alone once more.
“Great.”
He lowered himself back down to the ground and began to meditate. In spite of the exertions of the previous day, his mana supply was not entirely depleted, or even close to depletion in truth. There had to be some fault in the construction of his first circle that needed to be addressed. It was all well and good for him to have a steady uptick in mana, but the fact that it was happening without him deliberately causing it was a concern. For now it was helpful, but if he were already full to bursting, the addition of more mana was liable to cause him problems. For a moment, he turned his mind back to some of the original theory that he’d studied regarding circle construction, and the possibility that he had inadvertently created some sort of vacuum within his core that was drawing mana in, but parsing through the mana within him turned up nothing, so he simply let his mind clear, and let his mana reserves refill to just shy of their normal levels so that he did not overflow if some extra mana did show up unexpectedly. In other circumstances, he probably would have approached an Instructor for advice, but at present there seemed to be a minor civil war going on between the different instructors regarding him and he suspected that informing them that his containment was unstable would lend unfair credence to the arguments of the side that wanted to kick him out of the Ardent entirely.
His slate had been confiscated before he was locked up. They seemed surprised to discover that he didn’t have anything else, as though their trainees typically wandered around with baubles and trinkets spilling out of their pockets. His jacket had also been taken, presumably for repairs, but with the sun beating down on the cliffs, it had grown comfortably warm in the brig before long.
It wouldn’t have mattered much anyway. He was so exhausted after the day that just passed, he probably would have slept through almost anything. He likely would still have been asleep if not for his unexpected visitor. He wished that he were still asleep, because now he was confronted with boredom for what seemed to be the first time in his life. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go. The others were probably heading off to their classes, learning the things that they needed to learn so that they could advance, and he was stuck here twiddling his thumbs, figuratively. He resorted to doing his calisthenic exercises despite his muscles still screaming at him after the past few days’ exertions, until he couldn’t bear any more and sank back down onto the floor. At least there was none of the pervasive red dust in here.
Underground, there was no real way to track the passage of time. He did not think that hours had passed since his awakening, but there was really no sure way of knowing. Regardless, the arrival of Instructor Fahred was a welcome relief from the monotony. There was a bounce in the man’s step, and all of the ill-will that Sylvas had felt radiating off him seemed to have faded back to his usual levels of sarcasm. “A good evening to you, Recruit Vail.”
“Good evening, sir.” Sylvas could play at politeness as well as anyone. Rising to his feet and watching respectfully as the Instructor paced on the far side of the ward.
“As I’m sure you have realized by now, the unauthorized modification of spells is considered to be a dangerous practice within the Empyrean.”
Once again, Sylvas managed to maintain a calm demeanor. “It has been brought to my attention, sir.”
“Well, it has been brought to my attention that it is entirely possible that you were unaware of this prior to this mornings… activities. And as such it may be considered unjust to punish you for what you considered to be a perfectly logical course of action.”
Sylvas did let some of his relief show on his face now. “So I’m being released?”
“Absolutely not.” Fahred laughed mirthlessly. “You aren’t here because you’re being punished. You’re here because you are being made an example so that nobody else thinks they can casually rewrite a spell and get a pat on the head.”
“With respect sir, I am being punished regardless of the reason for my confinement. The others are receiving training and I am…”
Fahred cut him off. “You are about to receive as intensive a bout of instruction as you can endure from the smartest person on the planet, what a terrible burden for you to suffer.”
Sylvas’ mouth snapped shut.
“The way that I see it, there are two fundamentals we need to address before anything else. The first is your narrow selection of spells, and the second your advancement.” He conjured a chair and sat down facing Sylvas. “My proposal would be to address the latter before the former, as the spells that you will be using will be entirely different once you have discovered your affinity anyway, so pushing you forward to circle three is our best bet.”
“You think that I can advance two circles so swiftly?”
“I think a great many things, dear student, and it is for that reason that my thinking is so prized. I think more before breakfast than most people manage in their entire lifespan.” He said it flippantly, but also with a kind of confidence that put Sylvas own pride in his abilities to shame. “My thoughts on your advancement are that we can get you to the second circle before your release from this brig, and get you into affinity testing as soon as possible afterwards, which will then inform your choice of third circle embodiment and paradigm, respectively.”
“I want some sort of physical enhancement for my next embodiment. I’m falling behind everyone else because of my…”
Fahred cut him off with a raised finger. “Because you’ve been carefully crafted into the ideal caster rather than the ideal soldier, yes. I suspected that you might feel that way given the veritable rivers of sweat I saw running off you when trying to keep up with the others. However, I’m going to strongly suggest that if we are pursuing your rapid advancement then at least for this second embodiment you should hew more closely to what you know. Depending upon the element that you show affinity with, you are liable to find more useful embodiments within that specialization to counteract your physical shortfall.”
“I can’t keep up with the others...” Sylvas tried to reason with him.
“Because of your limited spellbook, not because of some fault in your progression. You are built to cast, but magic provides whatever other enhancements you might want. Do you think I can lift a mountain with my bare hands? Of course I can’t! But I can sever it from its roots with a blade of water and launch it into the sky with a geyser all the same.”
It was a point that Sylvas had not considered. Given that the full breadth of spells available to him could always be counted on one hand, it wasn’t surprising that he hadn’t thought of simply casting his way around problems.
Fahred rolled his odd-colored eyes. “Mobility can be enhanced with a spell of flying like your najash girlfriend uses. Brute strength means nothing in the face of an empowered blast. Do not compare yourself to others when making your choices, because at best it will make you a poor copy of them and rob you of your own progress towards being the best version of yourself that you might achieve.”
Sylvas corrected him. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
Fahred pinched the bridge of his nose as though fighting a headache. “I’m so glad that you are focusing on the important parts of the lessons I’m conveying to you. It really fills me with confidence that you’ll be able to achieve all the things I had to promise Aurea you’d be able to do to get unfettered access to you.”
The interdepartmental politics involved in this visit hadn’t occurred to Sylvas until now. So he set aside his own concerns and listened to the allegedly smartest man on the planet. “What would you advise?”
“You’re squandering mana each time you cast, leaking it out of those old injuries of yours. It will reduce your efficiency down the line, and while your overgrown core allows for that kind of waste at present, it will not always, not once you’re using more advanced spells. I’d advise some sort of bodily enhancement to reduce the permeability of your flesh to mana rather than some greater infusion of it into your physical body which would only serve to dilute your casting further.” He tossed a slate to Sylvas through the ward, and it passed in unscathed by the magic. Clearly the ward only prevented things leaving the cell, not entering them. That information might come in useful if he needed to orchestrate an escape later.
The slate had the full and simple instructions for the Bulwark embodiment laid out, along with some scribbled notes from Fahred in the margins explaining how to best accommodate the changes that had already been made to Sylvas body. It would make him more resistant to the effects of magic, both external and internal, even if he would be just as susceptible to physical harm as ever.
Sylvas wet his lips, swallowed his pride and said, “Thank you.”
“You can thank me by mastering it in record time.” Fahred didn’t even acknowledge the concession that Syvlas had just made. “Now, onto the more important matter of the Paradigm.”
Fahred was obviously waiting for him to make another incorrect proposal, so instead he asked, “Do you have a suggestion?”
“Well, you’ve already taken on and mastered the most difficult one anyone at the first circle might ever consider, so I’d imagine whatever second one you pick up is going to be a walk in the park for you. For a pure caster like yourself, I’d typically recommend something to enhance the speed of thought, or perhaps eidetic memory to assist with the acquisition of new spells.”
It was an unfamiliar term to Sylvas. “Eidetic memory?”
“Clearmind lets you perceive more or less everything at the moment it is occurring, but you’re still storing those perceptions in a leaky sieve of a human brain. With a Lockmind Paradigm everything that you take in will be permanently stored and accessible, and you will also have the advantage of preventing most telepathic intrusions that you may encounter. It was my first circle paradigm, and one I’d be happy to see more of the Ardent adopt. As a military organization they seem quite resistant to pursuing anything that makes individuals more intelligent. Can’t imagine why.”
Ignoring the color commentary, Sylvas mind spun with the possibilities of what was being offered to him. “That sounds… amazing.”
Fahred waved a hand, and mumbled a fragment of a spell, and the instructions for Lockmind joined Bulwark on the slate.
“Right, that should be enough to keep you busy for the rest of the evening, I’m off to teach some classes. Best of luck, try not to lobotomize yourself or explode before my return.” He rose to his feet, banished his seat back to wherever he’d summoned it from and stalked off without a word of goodbye.
I wonder if he's actually at risk of exploding or they have completely underestimated his skill