Chapter 54 - Common Knowledge

They traveled upriver aboard a broad barge, twenty oarsmen working steadily against the current of the Wyn. The river narrowed as Uthal disappeared behind them, though near the coast it had been so wide that Arien could barely make out the opposite bank.
The captain had given them a place near the bow, away from most of the passengers, and for the first part of the journey they talked about Arien’s travels.
He gave them the shortened version: roads, wagons, a barge, the Golden Mussel, Orian’s stories, the storm, and Sanrey. Two months of travel sounded surprisingly uneventful when compressed into a few sentences.
Will asked about the storm and Sanrey, but Malbek’s questions became increasingly specific as the story went on.
Which towns had Arien stopped in?
How comfortable had the carriages been?
What sort of cabins did the Golden Mussel have?
And, apparently of great importance, what had Fenrey served them for dinner?
By then, Will was practically vibrating beside him. Malbek appeared not to notice.
“And the food itself?” he asked Arien. “Decent?”
“Brother.”
Malbek turned toward Will with an innocent expression. “Yes?”
“Could you please explain the Academy to him now? Properly. Why it matters, what difference an early System actually makes, all of it.”
Arien caught the faintest twitch at the corner of Malbek’s mouth. Ah. He had been doing it on purpose.
Malbek let Will suffer for another heartbeat before turning to Arien. “Do you want to know how it actually works?”
Arien nodded immediately.
Malbek raised one hand. His fingers moved through a short configuration while he murmured several words too quietly for Arien to catch. Mana shifted around them. By the time Arien focused his Mana Sense, the spell was already complete. The air within several paces of them shimmered faintly, and the sounds beyond it became muffled.
“A privacy spell?” Arien asked.
“Something like that. Normal conversation shouldn’t carry beyond us.” Malbek glanced toward the rowers. “It won’t stop someone deliberately listening with the right Skill, and if Will starts shouting, all bets are off.”
“Awesome!” Will said.
Several oarsmen turned their heads.
Malbek stared at him. Will lowered his voice. “Awesome.”
“So,” Will whispered. “The Academy?”
“The Academy can wait.”
“What?”
Malbek turned toward Arien. “I assume you have Mana Manipulation. What else have you assigned?”
Will looked at Arien as though Malbek had just asked how many murders he had committed. “You assigned Skills?”
Arien frowned. “Yes?”
“Noooo.” Will buried his face in his hands.
“Ignore him,” Malbek said.
Arien did not find that particularly reassuring. “Was that a mistake?”
“Probably not.”
“Very reassuring.”
Malbek shrugged. “The Academy recommends that prospective students avoid assigning Skills until they begin their studies. Once admitted, they can consult their Master before committing to a particular path.”
“Why?”
“Because Skill slots are limited, and children routinely choose things they later regret.”
Will peeked through his fingers at Arien. “See?”
“On the other hand,” Malbek continued, ignoring him, “waiting years to assign useful Skills also slows your development. Noble families solve the problem by giving promising children private tutors and advisors long before they reach the Academy.”
“Naturally,” Arien muttered.
“Naturally.” Malbek leaned back slightly. “So. What did you choose?”
Arien hesitated.
He had spent so long hiding the fact that he possessed the System that speaking openly about it still felt wrong. And as much as he liked Malbek, they had known each other for less than a day.
Vylda’s warnings came back to him.
In the end, Arien decided to reveal only part of the truth.
“Mana Manipulation. Mana Sense. And two Aspects.”
Will’s hands dropped from his face. “Two?”
Malbek’s expression gave away nothing. “Mana Sense and Mana Manipulation are obvious choices. The two Aspects are less ideal. Most students are advised to start with one, so they still have room for the core Skills.”
“Which are?”
“Meditation. Words of Magic. Spellcasting.” Malbek counted them off on his fingers. “Mental Resistance as well, eventually.” He said it with the same calm tone someone might use while listing ingredients for soup.
A bead of cold sweat formed between Arien’s shoulders. Unshakable Mind probably filled the same role as Mental Resistance, but probably was doing a lot of work there. He still had two empty Skill slots. Had he already limited his options too much?
“How many people already have an Aspect when they arrive at the Academy?” Arien asked.
“Most don’t, especially commoners. Nobles often arrive with one already discovered, and the more talented among them usually manage to discover a second during their first year.”
Will immediately turned to Arien. “What are yours?”
Malbek gave his brother a flat look. “Could you give him a moment before interrogating him?”
“Quiet, Mal. You’re dying to know too.”
Malbek’s expression tightened. “I told you not to call me that.”
Arien smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll have to tell people once I enter the Academy anyway, right?”
“More or less,” Malbek said. “Aspects aren’t usually treated as secrets among students. You’ll practice with them openly, and in later years, once more students have discovered their own, there are classes focused specifically on Aspect Magic.”
“Then I could use some advice about mine.”
“Go ahead,” Malbek said.
“One of them is Life. From what I’ve heard, that might improve my position when dealing with the Factions.”
Malbek stared at him, his usual composure gone. Will, meanwhile, looked almost disappointed. Arien suspected he had been hoping for something involving explosions.
“Life?” Malbek repeated.
“Yes.”
“Forgive me, but can you prove it?”
“Arien wouldn’t lie about something like that,” Will said, already turning back to Arien. “So what’s the second one?”
“Will.”
“What?”
“Be quiet for a moment. This is important.”
Will gave his brother an offended look but finally obeyed. Arien shrugged and moved closer to him. Bruises and half-healed cuts covered Will’s forearms, presumably souvenirs from whatever training he had been putting himself through lately. Arien took hold of one arm and sent a small amount of Life mana into it.
The bruises began to fade. The shallow cuts slowly closed.
Malbek leaned forward. “Incredible.”
His eyes followed the last traces of bruising as they disappeared.
“That changes things considerably.” He looked at his brother. “Will, where in the world did you find him?”
“You know exactly where,” Will muttered, still offended. He turned his arm over, inspecting the newly healed skin. “And what’s so special about Life? There are plenty of Healers in the capital.” He flexed his fingers. “Thanks, by the way. That tickled.”
“There are plenty of Healers,” Malbek agreed. “Very few of them possess the Life Aspect.”
Will looked back at him. “How few?”
“Life is Rare. During all my years at the Academy, I’ve seen only a handful of students discover it, and most of them did so much later in their studies. Think of it this way. A Healer with Life and one without it are like two trained swordsmen, except only one of them was given a proper sword.”
“So Arien doesn’t have to worry about the Factions?”
“Quite the opposite,” Malbek said. “Every Faction in Wayhold will want to recruit him. The difference is that with a Life Aspect, he’ll be in a position to choose rather than beg for a place.”
Arien frowned. “That doesn’t sound much like what I’ve heard.”
“I imagine not.” Malbek leaned back slightly. “People outside the capital like stories about talented commoners being trapped in terrible contracts by powerful Factions.”
“And that doesn’t happen?”
“I didn’t say that.” Malbek folded his arms. “Threats, blackmail, manipulation, even murder happen. But usually when considerably more is at stake than an Academy student.” He paused. “At our level, things usually work differently from the stories you’ve heard.”
“How so?”
“The first few years are manageable for most capable students. After that, things become considerably harder. By the fifth year, many begin looking for a Faction or noble House willing to support them with their studies and provide the resources they need to keep progressing.”
Will frowned. “So the students go to them?”
“Usually.”
Malbek gave Arien a meaningful look. “The Academy becomes expensive in ways that have little to do with tuition. You need time to master the spells your Masters assign, materials for practice, mana potions when your recovery can’t keep up, and eventually access to teachers outside the Academy who specialize in things your own Master may not. Factions and Houses can provide all of that. Eventually, talent alone stops being enough for most people.”
“And if they refuse?” Arien asked.
“Some manage without backing.” Malbek shrugged. “Most don’t.”
Arien thought back to everything he had heard in Ribenne. The stories hadn’t exactly been lies; they had simply left out the part where, sooner or later, many students went looking for the Factions themselves.
“But Life changes that?”
“It changes who needs whom more.”
Malbek nodded toward him. “A future Healer with the Life Aspect can afford to negotiate.”
“My second Aspect is Fire,” Arien said, partly to cheer Will up. It worked; the boy’s eyes immediately lit up.
“Fire?”
Malbek looked considerably less impressed. “That’s a poor combination.”
Will glanced at him. “Why?”
“For someone trying to specialize efficiently,” Malbek clarified. “Life points naturally toward healing, while Fire is far more useful to a Battle Mage. The two demand very different Skills.”
“But Arien should be able to defend himself too!” Will protested.
“That’s what spells are for.”
Malbek looked back at Arien. “Honestly, I wouldn’t assign another Aspect. Not until you understand exactly what you’re giving up for it. Skill slots are too valuable.”
“You mentioned Meditation, Words of Magic, and Spellcasting,” Arien said. “Why those three?”
Arien felt slightly foolish. He had known from the start that assigning Skills blindly was dangerous. Still, hearing Malbek explain what those choices might eventually cost him was enough to stir an unpleasant doubt.
“Meditation has three primary uses,” Malbek said. “It improves mana recovery, makes discovering Aspects easier, and its later specializations are necessary for casting more complex magic.”
Arien immediately began sorting through the implications.
The first benefit mattered less than it probably did for most mages. His steadily increasing Vitality already restored his mana quickly.
The second mattered even less; his Trait had already revealed six Aspects to him. The third, however, sounded genuinely useful.
“Words of Magic and Spellcasting are closely connected,” Malbek continued. “Spellcasting lets us shape magic outside our own Aspects. The result is weaker than proper Aspect Magic, naturally, but the versatility makes up for it.”
“And Words of Magic?”
“Allows you to construct more complicated spells. Without the Skill, an incantation is nothing more than noise.”
Arien felt his excitement returning. For years, almost everything he knew about magic had come from tales, rumors, experiments, or people who understood barely more than he did.
Now, for once, he was getting answers he could actually trust.
“So Meditation, Words of Magic, and Spellcasting are the standard path?”
“For human mages? More or less.”
“Are there alternatives?”
Malbek considered the question. “There are. I spent quite a while wondering whether I should avoid Spellcasting altogether.”
Arien leaned forward slightly.
“Other races have stronger natural affinities for certain Aspects, or advantages humans simply don’t possess. Their magical traditions developed around those strengths. For centuries, they dominated the ranks of Erador’s greatest mages. Humans only began competing with them consistently after Spellcasting was developed and refined.”
“So why did you consider giving it up?”
“Because some Masters believe Spellcasting is also one of the reasons so few people ever become Archmages.”
“How?”
“Think of it as a tool that compensates for imperfect understanding. Extremely useful early on. Perhaps too useful.” Malbek folded his hands. “With Spellcasting, even mediocre students can produce First Circle spells after a few months of proper instruction. Using Mana Manipulation alone, reaching the same point can take one or two years.”
“That much?”
“Easily. Second Circle magic without Spellcasting can take three or four years of focused practice, sometimes longer, and that’s usually for individual spells under controlled conditions.”
Arien frowned. “So Spellcasting lets you progress much faster, but some people think relying on it eventually limits how far you can go.”
“Essentially.”
“That sounds… less than ideal.”
Malbek’s expression tightened slightly. “Trying to complete Academy training without it would be considerably less ideal.”
“So you assigned it in the end.”
“Yes. Everyone does, eventually. Without Spellcasting, a normal human mage could spend decades reaching what the Academy expects in ten years. Whether that creates problems at the very highest levels is largely irrelevant to someone who never reaches those levels in the first place.”
Arien had no answer to that.
“You’ll learn the theory during your first semester,” Malbek continued. “In fact, you’ll spend most of your first year on fundamentals. Theory, mana control, exercises, learning how spells are actually constructed. Don’t expect to spend every day throwing magic around.”
Arien hesitated before adding, “Thank you. Really. There was no one in Ribenne I could ask about any of this. I’ve learned more in the last few minutes than I managed to learn in years.”
“Well…” For perhaps the first time, Malbek looked almost embarrassed. “You’re Will’s friend. And it’s not as though I have anything more important to do at the moment.”
Will immediately grinned. “You told me you were going to study the entire way to Uthal and back and that I wasn’t supposed to disturb you.”
Malbek gave him a flat look. “Studying can wait occasionally.” Then he turned toward Arien. “Besides, having a future Healer owe me a favor seems like a reasonable investment.”
Arien raised an eyebrow. “So I owe you an unspecified future favor for a few pieces of common knowledge I’d probably learn during my first weeks at the Academy?”
“Exactly.” Malbek grinned. “But notice the important part: common knowledge among mages. How many mages do you know?”
Arien considered that. “I would’ve helped you anyway. You’re Will’s family.”
“That’s beside the point.”
Malbek narrowed his eyes. “Never give something away when someone is willing to owe you for it. In Wayhold, everything has a price.”
“Yes, yes,” Will interrupted. “That’s my wonderful brother. Can you believe we’re actually related?”
“Hardly,” Arien and Malbek said at the same time.
Arien looked over and found Malbek staring back at him. Will burst out laughing. Arien lasted another second before joining him.
“Alright, Arien.” Will leaned forward eagerly. “Tell us about the battle.”
Arien blinked. “What battle?”
“On the ship!”
“There wasn’t a battle.”
Will’s excitement faltered.
“We spent most of the voyage running from a storm. It eventually caught us, Sanrey fell from the mast after saving the ship, and I spent the next few days putting him back together.”
Will stared at him. “No.”
“No?”
“You cannot tell a story like that.” He waved both hands in frustration. “Start from the beginning.”
“Will—”
“From the moment you stepped aboard.”
“That was weeks ago.”
“You promised me a story.”
Arien sighed and started from the beginning.
It took considerably longer than expected, mostly because Will refused to let him skip anything. What had the ship looked like? What had Fenrey said? How large had the waves been? What had Arien been thinking when Sanrey climbed the mast? By the end, Arien suspected his friend would have asked about the color of every rope aboard the Golden Mussel if given the chance.
When he finally finished, Will was grinning from ear to ear despite the complete absence of pirates, monsters, or heroic duels.
“That’s incredible.”
Arien smiled.
“And Sanrey can already walk?”
“With crutches, but yes.”
Malbek groaned. Arien turned toward him.
“What?”
“Give it a moment.”
“Did you hear that, Malbek?” Will said excitedly. “If Arien can heal injuries like that, I can start training with the Saw again. And I can put the harder obstacles back on the course.”
“Absolutely not,” Malbek said.
“Why?”
“Because Arien healing broken bones does not make you immortal. What happens when one of those blocks cracks your skull open?”
Will hesitated. “Well…”
“Or when Arien is in class? Or out of mana?”
“He’s still learning.” Will looked hopefully at Arien. “Head, leg… eventually it’s all the same, right?”
“No.”
Arien rubbed his face. Of course Will had immediately turned healing into an excuse to train harder.
“Listen carefully. If you damage something important, I might not be able to help you even with a full mana pool. Sanrey took days, and most of what I did was accelerate his natural recovery.”
Will frowned thoughtfully. “Then maybe some kind of protective armor—”
“No, Will.”
“But—”
“And if you break something because you deliberately did something stupid, I’m not healing it.”
Will looked horrified. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“I’d be unable to train for months!”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not fair!”
“The world isn’t fair,” Arien and Malbek said at the same time.
They exchanged a look, then both looked away.
Will stared between them. “Maybe I should’ve asked for a new sword after all.”