(Path of the Dragon Mage: Exiled) 25. Scholar's Apprentice 2 of 2 (Patreon)
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The first thing Corvus did was write a short letter to his mother. He had to start and stop several times, scowling at his now messy handwriting and a couple of backward letters.
Writing - Beginner 1 was well below the standard he had held himself to at the palace. He had the bad feeling this would be slow to advance, thanks to lack of opportunity to practice. Thankfully, his ambidextrous penalty only penalized one-handed combat skills.
With a grimace, Corvus started again with a clean piece of parchment. The pile of clean sheets was sizable and he was tempted to slip a few into his bag for later.
In the end, he kept his letter to Vesper only a few sentences long, both for the sake of his reduced ability to write and to keep details from her. She was an expert at reading between the lines and discovering secrets from people they never meant to reveal.
He assured his mother he was alive, healthy, and was working hard to make her proud. That he thought of her often and hoped the letter found her well.
His signature thankfully looked like his own, even if the handwriting was messy.
As he finished the final draft, he received a notice.
Ding!
You have increased your Writing skill.
New level: Beginner 2
Folding the parchment, he addressed the outside to Lord Shield in the same way he saw from a stack of other letters nearby. There was both a scholar's stamp and a nearby candle for wax nearby. After a brief hesitation, he sealed his letter as the other had been and then stuck it in the middle of the pile. That way Tabor or one of the other senior scholars would not identify it as his.
He still had no customers come up to the table—and was much too reserved to call out to passersby like other vendors, even if he wanted them. Instead, his eyes fell to the books.
One was a thick children's book of old fables, another a listing of current kingdom laws. The third was the best practices of farming, for some reason. The fourth was a book of famous poetry throughout the kingdom.
He picked the poetry.
Corvus cracked open the book to the middle and stared down blankly at the page.
For long, horrifying moments, the letters swam in front of his eyes and he could find no meaning in them.
Slamming the book shut, he tossed it back on the table, breathing hard.
This made no sense. He had, after all, read the titles of the books. He had been reading the path notifications since he left the palace.
But he had been able to draw runes without having a skill in writing. The notifications came from within his own mind, surely powered by magic.
Perhaps there was a difference between doing something casually and achieving a skill in it. As part of his formal education, he had been given basic musical training — though he had no great talent in it, unlike his cousin Starella.
He could pick up a lute and strum random strings until he created a pleasant sound. But to learn to truly play the instrument, he had to study scales and practice with intent.
What if he could no longer read? Books had been his one great escape in his past life. What if—
No. If he had to learn again, that was what he would do. It was all but certain he had a well of experience to draw from, and since reading was not a combat skill, he would suffer no penalty.
He would regain his proficiency as good or better than it had been before.
Grimly, Corvus picked up the poetry book.
The pages in front of him were awash in nonsense. He set his eyes to the start of the first line and forced himself to take in the words.
The first line of the poem was awful — not the poem itself, even though he was not a fan of the author's style—but he had to sound out the words to himself aloud. Getting through it seemed to take ages.
At the end of the first line, he received a notification.
You have learned a new skill: Reading
After that, things became progressively easier. He reached Reading - Beginner 2 by the time he had muddled through the first page.
A cough brought his eyes up from the book. A peasant man stood waiting before the table.
Corvus shut the book and stood. "Yes? May I help you?"
The peasant squinted at him. "I need to see a scholar. Where is your master, boy?"
"At lunch." Looking past the peasant, he saw that the streets were cleared out. There were still people, but nowhere near the crowd that had been milling around before. Some of the merchant stalls were even packed up.
Likely, most of the town had gone to see the fun with the ratkin and cockatrices, same as Tabor.
"I'm well-equipped to help you, sir."
The man's eyes narrowed. "You don't look to be much past your britches."
Corvus would have objected, but knew his frame was swimming in Tabor's smock. He lifted his chin. "I can read and write proficiently. Are you here to send a letter?"
The man looked at him for another moment and then sighed, digging out a wrinkled piece of parchment. "I need you to read me this contract. Tell me if the no-good noble's overseer is fleecing me or not."
Corvus's stomach dropped. Yes, he had been tutored on common law, but he certainly didn't know the details. Tabor had promised that this would be easy.
With a feeling like a stone sitting in his stomach, he took the parchment and read through it.
It took him longer than it ought to have—both because he was being careful and because of his low reading skill. When he reached the bottom, his Reading jumped to Beginner - 3
Likely, puzzling out the legal language helped advance it.
With the increase in skill came more understanding. Corvus looked up at the peasant, who he realized had the muddy shoes of a farmer.
"What terms did the noble's overseer tell you were in this contract?"
"For one thing, he promised at least three coppers per bushel of wheat…"
As the farmer spoke, Corvus took a quill in hand and started writing out the details on a new page. His handwriting was awful, the spelling was atrocious, but he hardly paid attention. The details between what the farmer was told and what was written in the contract were stark and frightening.
The payment in the contract called for less than a third of what he had been promised. When he told the farmer, the man looked angry, but not surprised.
"It ain't the first time this happened. It's why I traveled two days to find someone to read it out."
"Two days!" Corvus cut himself off before he said one of those words that Roan had yelled during the ratkin fight. Instead, he looked again to the contract. It was signed by an official overseer claiming to work on behalf of Lord Miller. The dishonorable man had even signed it with the Miller's mark — a stylized five-petal flower within a circle.
Corvus's jaw dropped.
That was a rune. Right there in front of his eyes. He had seen it hundreds of times before but never connected it as anything other than a house insignia.
In fact… all noble houses had official house insignias: Tiny images within circles. Why had he never realized—
"Sir, scholar?" the peasant asked.
Corvus shook himself, remembering he had other business to attend to.
Muttering darkly under his breath, he grabbed yet another piece of parchment—he was going through the stack quickly, but Tabor was not here to complain—and then slowly, laboriously, began to copy out the terms of the old contract onto a new one. This time, he added the terms the farmer had been told.
It was much easier to write when he had a copy to refer to, and he was rewarded halfway down with Writing - Beginner 3.
After blowing on the ink to ensure it dried, he melted a dot of wax on the bottom and pressed it with the scholar's seal to ensure its authenticity.
He turned it around to the man. "This new contract has everything you were promised. Sign your name here, on the bottom."
The man looked baffled. "I don't know how to write my name."
Corvus felt a brief flash of pity. To never see one's name written down, and have to travel for two days just to ensure he was not taken advantage of…
"I'll write it out, and then you put a mark at the end. An X will do. Like this," he said and then showed him.
The man's name was Grove, and he held the quill all wrong and made a shaky X. But it would do.
"How much do I owe you, sir scholar?" Grove asked. "Begging your pardon, but we never talked of terms."
Oh. Right.
"The standard price is one copper," Corvus invented.
Grove squinted at him. "Are you… sure about that son?"
The man could not write his own name, but it was obvious he could do math just fine.
"A half copper?" Corvus guessed.
Grove snorted and then left two entire coppers on the table before he took the new contract. He looked at the original contract as if it were a snake ready to bite him.
"Do you think I need that?"
"No," he said firmly. "I will be sending this to Lord Miller, with a sternly worded letter to watch his overseers."
Grove did not look happy about this.
"I will blacken out any details which point to you," Corvus assured him. "But he ought to know his overseers are writing in false terms to take advantage of his good, tax-paying commoners."
"As you say…" Grove did not look reassured.
Corvus waved him away and started penning the promised letter. It… looked rather demented thanks to his poor handwriting and the angry language he used, detailing exactly what he thought of overseers who used their Lord's good name to further their own ends… but he thought it got the point across nicely. He also received another level in writing for his effort.
Sealing the letter along with the contract (the details of Grove farm scratched out to preserve his identity), Corvus addressed it to Lord Miller and stuck it on the top of the outgoing letter pile.
That done, he turned again to the runes.
With another sheet of parchment, he started drawing the house insignia he knew so well: Shield.
It was a basic diamond shape with the corners marked out to give it a shape that seemed to pop off the page. The top and bottom of the shield design touched the boundaries of the circle. When he finished it, he touched the circle's edge. He didn't dare push any mana through in the middle of a village, but it felt… whole in a way he could not quite define.
This was definitely a rune.
The Cartwrights were next. Their house insignia was an eight-spoke wheel. It, too, felt like a workable rune. But hedge-witches had been gone for ages, and the Cartwrights had only been ennobled for two generations.
One by one, Corvus went through all the houses he could remember—all the major ones, though he would have to look through the minor houses next. Not all of the noble house insignias were runes. He figured over the years the marks had become too stylized from the original. The Mongers, for example, had an insignia of a small school of fish.
In the end, he counted five runes in total from the major noble families.
Shields
Cartwrights
Millers
Gemstone
Blacksmith
He could not wait to see what these did.
Folding the piece of parchment, he placed it into his Bag of Holding which he held on his lap. The item inventory showed: Drawn Runes (1).
He was glad it agreed.
Soon a well-dressed woman came to his table, asking Corvus to write out a letter. He did, glad to do it though he did not receive another skill point.
The woman seemed very happy when he asked two coppers for the privilege. Perhaps he should have asked for silvers instead. Ah well.
Tabor finally returned three hours later. He was flushed with alcohol, happy, and waved Corvus's objections away, presenting him with a sweet hand cake to make up for being an hour late.
He seemed to care less about the customers and more concerned by the fact that Corvus had used every scrap of free parchment.
"That stuff's not cheap, you know," he said.
In answer, Corvus pointed to the four coppers he earned.
Tabor groaned, flopping down on the stool. "You're a menace. Give me my smock back. I'm going to have to pay for the replacements out of my winnings." But he didn't seem overly upset about it.
"Did you win much coin?" Corvus asked, mostly to be polite. He still thought watching one animal eat another was a disgusting way to spend one's time.
Tabor shrugged. "I came out ahead… I was up triple my coins for a time—then they ran out of ratkin, and fed some of the cockatrices to the dragons—"
"Dragons?!" Corvus yelped. "They have dragons here?"
The apprentice gave him a look like he had two heads. "Of course they do. Their paddock is right at the edge of town. Haven't you seen a dragon before, Cartwright?"
Unconsciously, Corvus clutched his bag to him tighter. He knew Tabor must be talking about the common, feral dragons, but to realize he was so close to one…
"You should take a look at ‘em. They’re damn vicious creatures," Tabor continued. "Then come back here and stick around for a bit. Meet my master. Maybe she can work something out with your parents to get you into the guild."
He felt a moment of heart-deep regret. He'd had the option for the Path of the Scholar, but it had not been for him. Not if he wanted to hatch his dragon egg.
"I… can't."
"You sure?" Tabor asked, then shrugged when Corvus nodded. "All right. But if you ever want to send another letter… Stop by anytime."
Ding!
Quest completed.
With the ease of practice, he pushed the rest of the notifications away for now.
"How do I find the dragons?"
"There's a street at the end of the market that turns north. It'll take you right to the pens."
With a nod of thanks and another flash of regret that he wouldn’t be back, Corvus turned down the market road. As he did, he reviewed his notifications. They arrived with a flurry of dings.
Ding!
Congratulations! You have completed the quest: Man The Booth! Reward: Reading and Writing skills have been merged into Literacy (general). +5% bonus to skills under this general category.
Hidden Quest Bonus: By successfully faking the role of an apprentice scholar, you have been awarded two skill points in Deception.
Ding!
You have increased your Literacy (general) skill.
New level: Beginner 7
Ding!
Milestone reached! For reaching at least level five in a general knowledge skill, you have unlocked specialized subskill: Forgery
Ding!
You have increased your Deception skill.
New level: Beginner 5
Ding!
Lifetime first! For reaching at least level five in a non-path, non-generalized skill, you have unlocked the ability to make this skill a general skill. This will provide an additional bonus and open the path for sub-skills. Do you wish to make Deception a generalized skill?
Corvus felt slightly uneasy at the number of dishonest skills he was racking up. Had he known about this, he would have spent more time with Merry-Rose and perhaps leveled up his Animal Handling skill. Generalizing that might give him insight on how to hatch his dragon egg.
There was nothing for it. He would not turn the bonus away. Deception had come in handy before—he had no doubt it would again.
Corvus accepted the change.
Ding!
Deception has been upgraded to Deception (general). +3% bonus to all skills under this category.
Milestone reached! For reaching level five in a general knowledge skill Deception, you have unlocked specialized subskill: Detect Lies.
Corvus grinned, relieved he had chosen correctly. That skill should be useful.
For an easy quest, it had reaped good rewards. The bonus from the Literacy skill should help him regain what was lost. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about acquiring a skill like Forgery, but was honest enough with himself to recognize that was what he had done when he put the Scholar’s stamp on the contract he’d created himself. It had helped Grove so… perhaps it was not automatically bad?
Also, if Literacy was a general skill, perhaps he could someday develop calligraphy again. He'd enjoyed doing that in his off time at the palace. Though now, he had runes to draw… He should practice that as much as he could.
He would consider all of this later. For now, the sun was still an hour or so from the top of the far western wall. Plenty of time to see the dragons and return to Solt again.
His hand slipped into his bag to touch the dragon egg. "Let's pay a visit to your kin."