Chapter 4

Magic as an art has always developed on every world with species capable of attaining sentience. The particular format in which knowledge of magic was conveyed between practitioners and their acolytes varied based upon the culture and species, but most common by far was the medieval pattern of apprenticeship. A single master, passing down knowledge to multiple journeymen who would then attain mastership themselves and carry on the expansion of that particular branch of knowledge. In a modern society, this has for the most part vanished into more structured learning environments, but there are some who favor the simplicity of the old approach, and the potential for divergence from dogma that it represents.

—An Oral History of Magic, Albrecht Magnus

Kaya tugged on his arm, but he waved her off, as he headed down to face their Instructor on a level field. Fahred looked positively delighted as Sylvas came closer, but not so delighted that he didn’t feel inclined to make his usual sort of running commentary. “I assume that your intense staring match with your slate wasn’t due to a lack of reading comprehension?”

“You want me to be your apprentice.” Sylvas decided the best course was to cut through all of the usual nonsense and get to the point. “What would that entail?”

“You’re already aware that there is a path for you away from the front lines, away from the fighting. An opportunity to do something greater with your life than smashing it up against Eidolons until you fall to pieces. I suppose that an informal apprenticeship where I focus on research, development and higher degrees of magic could be considered to be the first step in that direction.”

“The Ardent want me to—”

“The Ardent want to exploit your full value, and they believe at present, that full value is as a tool, a combatant, an interesting weapon in their arsenal and an interesting new way to maneuver their ships around. More likely than not, with the discovery of your new capability for worldsoul destruction, it is almost guaranteed that you’ll be used in the…acquisition process of more fragments, assuming the ethics and legalities of such a thing are absolved. Regardless, they will think of you solely in terms of mundane applications. I can see your true potential.”

“Right,” Sylvas stated dryly, finding it hard to see exactly what that potential might be, given that the alternative was essentially cracking entire planets apart. “And what exactly would that potential be?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Vail, you know as well as I do that there is a good mind behind that vacant stare.” He snapped his fingers in Sylvas face. “Perhaps one of the better minds on this planet I’ll admit, though putting yourself into competition with me in that regard is much like waving a lit torch at a supernova and bragging about its brightness.” 

Fahred slipped down from his desk to stand toe-to-toe with Sylvas. “Unless you fancy yourself becoming a simple mining tool, the Ardent, and the Empyrean powers that be, need to be shown that you are more than just a tool, a playing piece. They need to see that you have the capacity to be a true player. That deploying you to the battlefield or plunging you into the cores of planets where you’ll risk life and limb is foolish when you could be working from the home front to advance our understanding of magic, develop new spells and techniques. I’ve seen you, you know, when you don’t think anyone is looking, scribbling spell modifications on your slate. Balancing mana in spell-forms that you haven’t even invented yet. Amending and appending spells to amplify one effect and remove another. If it hadn’t have been for your affinity, you’d have been mine from the start. A protégé, writing the next generation’s magic today.”

Sylvas shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “This is all very flattering—”

“No. It isn’t.” Fahred cut him off before he could even begin showing humility. “It’s a boring drudgery of a job that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but it is work that you’d excel at, and that it is your duty as one of the few great minds in the universe to do. And when they realize what you’re doing with that gauntlet of yours, can you imagine how that is going to revolutionize things? When any spell can be cast by any mage regardless of their affinity?”

Sylvas glanced down at the device on his wrist. “It isn’t even close to letting me—”

“Not now. Of course not. It’s a prototype of a prototype of an inkling of an idea, and there have been oh so many people trying out similar ideas over the years and coming to nothing. Throwing their lives away for a net result of nil. But the difference, which I, which everyone who knows you made that thing, consider to be notable, is that yours actually works.” Fahred stated, giving Sylvas a hard stare. “But so far, no one has been able to figure out exactly how you managed to do that. Perhaps something to do with how you draw mana, the gravity affinity?”

Sylvas didn’t really want to dig into the spiritual significance of the gaping black hole at the center of his being, so he tried to move the conversation along. “It can only store enough mana to power a simple spell of each affinity—”

“Yes, only because of the economy of scale you’re dealing in.” Fahred waved away Sylvas excuses. “It’s a small device with small storage.”

There were very few people on the planet who Sylvas could have talked to at any length about what he was trying to achieve with his gauntlet, fewer still who would fully understand everything that he was trying to accomplish with it. He’d been so carried away in the excitement of having someone to talk to about it, someone who would not only get it, but have suggestions on how to improve it, that he’d lost sight of his paranoia for a moment. It came rushing back now. “How do you know so much about what my enchantments do? How do you know if I’m studying spell-forms or developing—”

Fahred made absolutely no pretense about it as he rudely interrupted him yet again. “Oh I spy on you, we all do, relentlessly. Scrying spells. Enchantments woven into your slate. Small bribes and favors doled out to your peers in exchange for information. All of the usual.”

Without even thinking about it, Sylvas hands had curled into fists at his side and the orbitals in his bag vibrated. Ready to heed his call. “Wait, what? Why are you spying on me?!”

For a long moment, Fahred just stared at him in disbelief, then he leaned back on his desk again. Closing his eyes. “Because you matter,cadet. Most of the people that pass through this planet either die, are medically discharged, or retire within a handful of years of starting their service. Even when considering those that don’t, those who somehow survive, most haven’t a shred of potential to do anything more worthwhile than serve to the best of their ability. And I can assure you that me and your other instructors are far from being the only ones keeping a close watch on your comings and goings. I alone have to swat away a half-dozen unauthorized scrying spells each day to keep the whole universe from knowing the color of your underwear. You have become a person of interest, Sylvas Vail. Your affinity was one thing; momentous for the Empyrean of course, and the Ardent in particular, but compared to this new capability it pales.”

He met Sylvas gaze then, and held it. Deep down beneath the blue, there was a darkness stirring, a whirlpool at the deepest point of his gaze. “Everyone in the universe is going to try and use you. I’m just being honest about my intentions. I’m not going to lock you in a box and turn you into a world-shard machine, or strap you to a ship and use you like an engine. I’m going to make you one of the most esteemed and beloved wizard in all of history, recalled in the same breath as the greatest of us all for your incredible contributions.” He managed to muster something like a smile at the end. “I’m going to give you a life worth living. Doing something you’ll love. Isn’t that better? Surely that’s better?”

The temptation was almost overwhelming. The life that Fahred was suggesting, with him living and breathing magic all day, every day, with no interruptions or distractions. No being called off in the middle of studying to fight his fellow students. No abandoning his research projects because he had to go fight a space station full of the undead. “Once again, I’m going to ask what this… arrangement will entail.”

“Studies, experimentation, a certain overlap of our respective fields of expertise. A rapid education in all the elements of magic that the Empyrean don’t think you should have access to until you’ve achieved your fifth circle. Today’s lesson was a little taster, I hope that you enjoyed it.” He flashed Sylvas a smile. He thought that he was being charming. He was actually gloating over a victory he hadn’t yet won. “We may even be able to do a little work on healing the damage that dear Vaelith did to your poor brain. Get it unified and functioning as normal again.”

Sylvas crossed his arms. “My brain is functioning just fine.”

The instructor cocked his head to the side. “Is it though?” 

 “What percentage of this apprenticeship is going to be incessant insults?” Sylvas sighed.

“Oh most of it, I’d imagine.” He smirked. “I do have a reputation to uphold.”

Sylvas took a step back and tried to maintain a scowl. “And if I were to decline, on that basis?”

Fahred scoffed. “I’d think considerably less of you if you cannot withstand the weight of a little wit.”

“Alright. Alright.” Sylvas finally gave a show of conceding. “What do I have to do to make this arrangement…”

“Simple, my young friend. As we are now arriving at the latest ridiculous test of the year, the usual schedule will begin to break down fairly soon. At that point, you simply request that I be your trainer for the upcoming competition. From there, we’ll be able to properly explore all of the abilities you have unlocked within yourself but have yet to investigate, and by the time the Crucible is complete, you should be well on your way to a bright new future in…” He trailed off.

Sylvas followed his gaze, and turned to see the white shield of a sending spell hovering just out of his sight. He wasn’t sure of the etiquette for this sort of situation, so he gave an embarrassed shrug to the Instructor. “Just a moment.”

Reaching out activated the spell, and the words within rolled into Sylvas head without bothering with the middle-man of his ears. He blinked and turned back to Fahred, who clapped his hands together with a sound not unlike a crash of waves. “Right, if all of the interruptions are done then we can start—”

Sylvas didn’t have any choice but to interrupt. “It looks like I’ve been assigned a trainer for the Crucible.”

“You’ve what?” Fahred didn’t often look like he was surprised, even when he was, so Sylvas probably should have taken some pleasure in the stunned look on the wizard’s face, but he was just as shocked at what had happened.

He wet his lips, all of the plans he’d been laying in his head now in a swirl of motion. “Vaelith is going to train me.”

“But we…” Fahred drew himself up to his full height. “I can protest.”

“To Commander Wartback? It is his order.”

That seemed to leave Fahred speechless again. It was a day of miracles.