Book 3 - Chapter 8 (Patreon)

Lumina gave Brin a couple hours to do his regular workout and he wasted no time getting started. He began with lifting weights, going through his whole routine. Normally he had a hard time motivating himself without Davi around, but today he had a new Skill to test out.

Sure enough, after five minutes of squats, he got his first alert.

[Athleticism] leveled up! 1 -> 2

That was more than enough motivation to keep going. He went through his full routine, arms, back, and legs. He didn’t stay long on any one exercise, focusing on trying a little bit of everything. Throughout the entire thing the numbers kept going up.

[Athleticism] leveled up! 2 -> 5

It was exhilarating. How had he stayed motivated for workouts in his old life, without the instantaneous feedback? Well, for one, he hadn’t at all; he’d been both skinny and pudgy somehow. Two, it wasn’t that different from here. Pretty soon he’d hit a plateau the way he had with his attributes and the points would only drip along slowly over the matter of weeks or months. That was fine–for now, he was making progress and that was all that mattered.

After his weight lifting routine, he left the yard to go for a run. He ran down the road through the forest to Hammon’s Bog, made a ring around the entire town, and then ran back. He had to keep up a pretty quick pace in order to finish before his two hours was up.

[Athleticism] leveled up! 5 -> 6

One strange thing was that he didn’t feel any different. It was hard to pin down exactly what the Skill was improving. Hogg had warned him about that. General Skills felt so natural that it was hard to separate what the Skill was doing from his own effort. Also, he was already fairly athletic, so the Skill wouldn’t really be adding anything until he got to the higher levels with it. At this rate, that wouldn’t be long, and he couldn’t wait to see what the Skill could do for him.

Back at the house, he still had a few minutes left. Maybe he should stretch? He remembered that middle school gym class had made a big deal about that, but he hadn’t integrated it into his workouts here. He bobbed down to touch his toes and barely managed it. Good, then not as bad as he’d feared. Ten minutes of stretching and his time was up. 

[Athleticism] leveled up! 6 -> 7

He entered the house to wash up, and when he returned to the main room the dining table had been set up. A fine table cloth was covered by three plates, wine flutes, and a platter of roast snake with vegetables–Hogg’s cooking, he’d wager. A dozen different utensils next to each plate, and there was an artfully folded napkin on top of each.

Lumina stood next to the table, and nodded her head at Brin when he entered.

“Uh…”

Lumina quirked a smile at Hogg. “He really has no manners, has he?”

Hogg snorted, not moving from his place on his chair. “He has the manners a Commoner needs.”

Lumina said to Brin, “As I didst tell thee yestere’en, we shall be practicing etiquette and manners. We shall speak in High Frenarian, like so.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Brin.

“I do not jest, young man. Thou must assume that at some point in thy life, thou wilt have occasion to converse with nobility. When thou dost, thou shalt desire to be able to speak their language. It shall not suffice to merely speak it; total fluency is desired.”

Hogg interjected, “Most Commoners ken enow High Frenarian to suffice, for that’s what the [Bards] employ in their ballads. Yet it must flow as naturally as a brook, so thou canst slip into it without forethought. For when thou art preoccupied with choosing the right words, they are plotting to swindle thee.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” said Lumina. “For this exercise, I am not Lumina thy mother, I am Lady Lumina. Now, what doest thou when thou enterest a room with a Lady present?”

“Say hi?” Brin guessed.

“Methinks this will be quite enjoyable.” Lumina’s smile had a hint of maliciousness to it.

“I beg my Lady to take mercy on me,” said Brin.

“Close, but when in the presence of someone whose status is as far above thine as mine is, thou art not to use personal pronouns. Refer to thyself as ‘one’ or ‘a man’,” said Lumina. “Oh yes, I think I’ll enjoy this quite a bit.”

Brin gulped.

They started with greetings. If a Commoner like him entered a room with a lady of Lumina’s status, he was expected to keep his hands at the side and bow from the waist. As a [Rare] Classer, he would be expected to put a fist to his chest when he bowed, but he would be concealing that he was a [Glassbound Illusionist] for the near future. If he’d been a Lord, the bow would be a lot shorter, more like a slow head nod.

If she were a Commoner, the rules were different, but there were still rules. He was expected to greet them with a hand to his heart, or a fist as a Rare Class, not bow, but still acknowledge her before any men in the room.

The set of rules changed again if he was a Lord and she wasn’t. Lumina made him run through all of those scenarios before he was finally allowed to approach the table, where the delicious-smelling lunch was cooling rapidly.

He couldn’t sit before she invited him, and couldn’t eat before she said, “To your health” or “In delina denish,” which was the equivalent of ‘Bon Appetit” in some ancient language.

He couldn’t say it was miserable. This was just a set of rules to memorize, almost like a game, if he thought of it that way. But it was a large adjustment. In Frenaria, you were never supposed to put your hands under the table, which was a difficult change from his upbringing where you were supposed to have one hand in your lap.

Instead of a napkin on the lap, it was also always supposed to be visible. He could put it half-way into his front pocket, lay it over an arm, or tuck it into his shirt like a bib. The overall effect of wearing a bib didn’t seem very “high society” to him, but Lumina swore that was the way they did things. The cutlery wasn’t too difficult, he just had to work from the outside in, just like at a nice restaurant in the States, but the knife kept throwing him. It stayed in the left hand, with the fork in his right, and he was never supposed to put either down except to pick something else up.

Women had knives as well, but they weren’t supposed to use them for cutting, so Brin cut Lumina’s meat for her. It gave him a bit of an ick when he realized that he’d be cutting her meat with the knife he’d been using for his own food, but she saw nothing wrong with it.

Sitting at the table, Brin found that he couldn’t stop his eyes from being drawn back to Lumina’s pitch-black left hand, always above the table since that was polite. She hadn’t lost any kind of mobility and acted as if it didn’t bother her, but it was a powerful reminder that even [Archmages] weren’t invincible. He didn’t need to be told that staring at someone’s disfigured hand wasn’t polite, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. She didn’t comment on it.

The funny part was Hogg, who had a mirror image dressed up in a waiter’s outfit to act as their servant.

“I might desire more of the vegetables,” said Lumina.

“My Lady,” murmured Hogg, in a deep smooth voice, completely at odds with his regular attitude. If the mirror image wasn’t wearing Hogg’s face, Brin would’ve called him a completely different person. Hogg was normally so grouchy that Brin had assumed that was the only way he knew how to act, so it took him by surprise when he fit so well into another role. He served Lumina with his eyes downcast, and then stepped back and held his hands clasped together.

“Tis beneath the dignity of a lady to order the servants directly, at least in public. Instead, I express my desires to the air, and someone will fulfill those desires. Servants will always use the proper forms of address. ‘Master’ for a young noble, and ‘Mister’ for an adult Commoner. Young Commoners lack an appropriate term of address, so the servants shan’t speak to thee. Go ahead, try it.”

Brin looked at Hogg, who kept his eyes down.

“Never meet their eyes unless thou desirest something,” said Lumina. “They shall take it as a summons.”

“One might like some more meat,” said Brin.

Hogg stepped forward to serve him, but much more stiffly. He didn’t look at Brin, and instead of downcast his eyes looked straight forward with a grimace, like he’d been asked to change a diaper instead of serving a plate of food.

“You– Thou art especially talented in this regard. Acting like another person, I mean. One means,” said Brin.

Hogg kept his eyes forward. “Ah, kind words, indeed! To slip into another’s skin, to don their mannerisms and speak their words–’tis a skill honed through much study and countless imaginings. The trick is to stay myself when I am me so that none can imagine me as anything else.”

After lunch, things became a lot less formal. They washed up, and Lumina didn’t put on the airs of a Lady while she washed the dishes. She did use magic, though, and didn’t so much as get her hands wet. It reminded him of that old movie and he realized he sort of was a sorcerer’s apprentice.

Finally, it was the time for what he’d been waiting for. Magic practice. Even though studying the Language wasn’t the most fun thing he could do, he’d seen the difference just one session with Lumina made on his power and he was eager for more.

He waited outside on the porch for the others, wondering who it would be. It would be just like Lumina to invite a bunch of girls to try to push them into Brin’s lap.

To his relief, the first to arrive was a boy, Rodrige Moda. He cut his hair short, and had a sharp, serious face that made him look older than his fourteen years. He was tall as Davi, but leaner, and not any more muscular than Brin. Rodrige was a [Carpenter], the best of their year, although that was a bit of a scandal since both of his parents were [Woodworkers]. It was also a bit of a scandal how many times he’d been caught sneaking into the bedroom of a girl named Madely. Despite all that, he was still practically a celebrity. He was a very good [Carpenter]. Despite his age, he was already making Bog Standard furniture.

Brin greeted Rodrige with a smile and a handshake. The other boy had such a firm grip and such hard calluses that it felt like shaking the hand of a stone.

“Brin!” Rodrige said cheerily. “We haven’t talked much, and that’s a shame. When I got the invite I couldn’t believe it. Tutored by an [Archmage]? It sounds like something from a [Bard’s] tale.”

“Who says it’s not? The Tale of Rodrige, the legendary [Carpenter] King! Slayer of undead! Level thirty before he even hit fifteen!”

Rodrige laughed, setting the bag of [Carpenter] tools he’d brought down on the grass. “Oh, I doubt that. I’m only at 26, and my birthday’s coming up soon.”

“Oh, well then let me wish you an early happy birthday.”

Rodrigue stopped and squinted at Brin for a second. “You’re a lot more agreeable than I expected.”

Brin winced. “I think that might be the first time anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“I’ll bet!” said Rodrige with another laugh, and slapped Brin on the back.

Next up the road came another boy. This one was a [Woodworker] named Gill. He had a sad sort of face, like a less wrinkly mastiff, and he wore his curly black hair long, down to his shoulders.

He stopped short of Brin and Rodrige and waited. 

Brin stepped forward and shook his hand. “Good to see you, Gill.”

Gill sort of smiled, more like a wince. “Brin. Rodrige.”

Rodrige nodded politely, but there was a sudden lack of conversation. [Carpenters] and [Woodworkers] had a sort of rivalry in Hammon’s Bog, but Brin had never seen it spill into actual bad feelings. He wondered if there was something more personal going on between these two.

Whatever the reason, it was a bit awkward. It was mind-boggling, because Gill also had a girlfriend. Maybe he opened up a bit more when he was alone?

Myra arrived soon after, followed close behind by Chamylla and Calisto.

“Have you heard anything about Zilly?” Myra asked, before even saying hello.

With a guilty twinge, Brin realized he’d asked Hogg to look into it and then completely forgotten about her. Was he a bad friend? “Hogg is confident his tracker will find her.”

“Who did he send? I couldn’t get the [Hunters] to take this seriously,” said Myra.

“He… has a Skill. A shadow ability. He’ll find her,” said Brin. He wasn’t sure if Myra knew what Hogg’s Class was. He had an inkling that Tawna knew and might’ve told Myra, but the others present definitely weren’t supposed to know, so he went with the story that Hogg was a [Rogue] who’d advanced to gain some sort of shadow powers.

Myra sighed. “Ok.”

“You know what? Let me ask real quick.” He darted into the house.

Hogg already knew what he was going to ask, of course. “She’s fine. She’ll catch up to the group by tomorrow morning at the latest, and they won’t turn her away. The forest has been oddly quiet. I don’t think the undead army tolerated the natural wildlife.”

Brin went back out and told Myra the news. She clenched her jaw for a full ten seconds before shrugging and casually saying, “Oh, well good for her.”

Further conversation was cut off, because Lumina stepped out of the house. She walked straight past them, and then turned around to face them, her back against the forest beyond. “I am Lumina. No other honorifics or titles will be necessary for the duration of this lesson. You may sit.”

The six of them immediately sat down on the grass, even the elderly [Enchantress] and [Alchemist]. Lumina’s expression was cold and severe, and honestly Brin thought she might be laying it on a little thick. He was tempted to make some kind of wise-crack to lighten the mood, but this was probably intentional. She was doing what she’d done with him the first day and setting expectations.

 “Now,” Lumina continued, “I agreed to teach this lesson as a special favor, but make no mistake: you are not worthy of this. You will not waste my time by giving me anything other than your utmost concentration and dedication. Is that understood?”

Everyone nodded.

“Chamylla. Calisto. Feel free to follow along, and even give voice to the Language along with the children. I may see fit to give you further guidance, or I may not. You will not speak in this class unless spoken to. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Lumina,” said Chamylla, and Calisto echoed it.

“Very well. Brin, Myra, Rodrige, Gill. You may ask questions. I won’t have any of you falling behind because you’re too timid to admit when you don’t understand something.”

“Yes, My Lady,” said Rodrige.

“Lumina,” corrected the [Archmage].

“Yes, Lumina,” said Rodrige, and the others echoed her.

“Good. Today we’ll be talking about sharpness. Each of you will produce something that can cut and that will be affected by your magic.”

Brin summoned a glass knife, and by the time she was done, Rodrigue had brought out a chisel, and Gill had summoned a knife made from wood. Myra hesitantly held up a flax cord, to which Lumina nodded. He hadn’t expected the adults to have anything, but Chamylla brought out a heavily enchanted knife, and Calisto produced a big green tear-shaped leaf.

“Repeat after me. <Sharpen>.”

Calisto, Chamylla, and Brin each got the word right on the first try, but the other kids needed help with their pronunciation and intent before the magic took hold. When it did, she permitted them a minute of wonder, as they slashed their tools through the grass, watching their blades trim it as if it were made of smoke. Myra moved her thread along the grass, cutting it all so evenly it looked like a perfect green carpet.

“Notice how when you stop pouring mana in, the blades go back to their previous dullness? You haven’t actually sharpened the items, you’ve used mana to imbue them with the idea of sharpness,” said Lumina.

Brin was pretty sure he’d actually sharpened his glass knife, but he’d been practicing making sharper glass for a while now.

“Now, we’ll try this again. A fool thinks that if she can pronounce the word enough to use it with her Skills, then she’s mastered it. This is not so…”

Lumina went into her lecture about the power of the Language, the same one she’d delivered to Brin the day before. Then she had them all repeat the word until she was satisfied. 

Despite Lumina’s newfound no-nonsense attitude, the lesson wasn’t overly harsh. After <Sharpen>, she added a word. <Quickly Sharpen>. When they’d learned that to an acceptable degree, she added a word. “<Quickly Sharpen, Nicely>” then the opposite “<Quickly Sharpen, Cruelly>.” After that, she taught them, “<Quickly Sharpen a Cruel Edge>.”

The result of that sentence of Language were blades that cut cruel, jagged gashes that would be difficult to heal. Holding his knife, while pumping mana into the one-sentence spell, Brin felt as if his knife were longing for violence, as if it were thinking about how nice it would feel to plunge it into flesh. He dismissed it, feeling uneasy, and then used [Shape Glass] to dull his knife a bit, just in case.

The others looked awestruck with what she’d just taught them. Looking around, Brin realized that it was nearing dark. They’d already worked through the entire four-hour shift.

Through training, you have increased the following attribute:

Magic +1

“What I have taught you today is not common knowledge. Be careful who you pass it along to, and even more careful with how you use it,” said Lumina. Then she clapped her hands and smiled. “I think that’s about enough for today. You’ve all done very well. You are dismissed.”

The youths wasted no time to scramble to their feet and dart away. Brin shot a questioning glance at Lumina, and she gestured at him that he could follow them.

Myra, Rodrige and Gill waited until they were completely out of sight of Hogg’s house before they spoke, but when they did, everyone started talking at once.

“Six! I got six points in Magic today!”

“Oh, my poor head!”

“If only I’d had this a week ago. Maybe… maybe I would’ve…”

He was glad the lesson had gone over so well. Myra seemed the most excited, and maybe not for the best reasons. “Can you imagine a simple string is capable of so much? With one string and the advantage of surprise, I could take the head of a level 50 [Warrior]! I hope she teaches us a spell to make things stronger next time. You saw what my mother could do with string, right? Well, she would cry a bucket of tears if she saw what she’s missing out on. I’ve never seen my mother cry, but she would cry for this.”

“Uh, right,” said Brin, imagining what an invincible, extra sharp garrotte could be used for in the hands of an emotional fourteen-year-old girl.

He let the kids walk ahead of him, and then hung back until Calisto and Chamylla caught up with him.

“Could I talk with you? Alone?” he asked Chamylla.

“No problem,” said Calisto, and trotted up ahead.

When he was out of sight, Brin asked, “How are you walking around?”

“The same way as you, I expect. One foot in front of the other,” answered the [Enchantress].

“I’m not joking.”

“I understand that.”

Brin sighed. “Sorry, that was a bit curt. Language headache is no joke, but that’s not an excuse. You’ve always been good to me, and I won’t forget that.”

Chamylla smiled. “I understand.”

 “What I meant to say was, you got hit by the same curse that hit Hogg. Since you’re up and moving, I assume that means you must have some kind of anti-Wyrd enchantment or curse healing enchantment. If so, I was hoping that you’d make one for Hogg.”

“Well, unfortunately, that’s not the case. My [Enchantress] Class doesn’t have any solution for the aftereffects of Siphani’s nasty little hex.”

“Then maybe your… other Class does?” suggested Brin. Even though he didn’t think anyone else was listening, he wasn’t about to out Chamylla as a [Witch].

“No help there, either, I’m afraid. Perhaps one of the others might have a solution, but would Hogg accept such a thing? He’d be putting himself in their power, and in their debt.”

“He probably wouldn’t. But if it’s not your Class or your other Class, then how?” he asked.

“Me, the Prefit, the adventurers, many members of the Council of Elders, and our highest level fighters all suffered from that curse. But who else did it target?” asked Chamylla.

He wasn’t in the mood for another riddle with his head aching. “Hela?”

“Yes. And one more. You.”

“Oh.”

“As I said before, I’m walking around the same way that you are. When Ademir pulled Siphani's curse away from the rest of us, he healed me of the first curse as well.”

“I see,” said Brin. He slumped. “Then there’s really nothing we can do?”

“Hogg will recover on his own in due time,” Chamylla said, with kind, motherly eyes.

“But that could take forever!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think you’ll find that time has a way of skipping by.”