"Did you? Show me something you can do," said Lumina.
Brin decided to put his best foot forward and start with the most complicated thing he knew. He had the memory of casting Mirror Image in one of his glass rings, so he would be able to reproduce it without fail by following along in his mind. He didn't actually need to say the words out loud any more–it was enough to think them–but he wanted to show off his Language so he spoke them out loud this time.
It was easy enough to do that he’d been able to do this while running or fighting for his life in the past, but here under Lumina’s watchful gaze, he found himself needing to slow down to prevent stumbling over his words. It was the exhaustion. Despite doing nothing the last three days, he was still tired. Nightmares plagued his sleep, replaying scenes from the battle or from last year when he’d been alone in Travin’s Bog. They would pass, but it was annoying to not be at 100% when he had no good reason to be this tired.
Lumina kept her features blank while he chanted, giving nothing away and looking almost vacant. When he was finished, he felt the pull on his mana, and a perfect copy of himself appeared on his side. He waved, and the copy moved with him. Lumina crooked an eyebrow at the display, and then nodded.
"Very well. You may dismiss it," she said.
Brin reluctantly let the mirror image go, and his copy winked out of existence. It was a lot of work to summon one of those things to just let it disappear, but then again the point was to show what he could do, not to play around.
“That’s an impressive workaround to make up for your lack of high-level Skills, and it shows a passably broad vocabulary, but it’s not what I want to see. A memorized speech isn’t the same as fluency. What can you do on your own?”
Brin grimaced from embarrassment. Of course she wouldn’t be impressed by that. Someone who loved magic wouldn’t want to see him cheat his way through it. He thought a minute about what he could do, but it wasn’t much. He decided to just demonstrate what he knew. He had nothing to be ashamed of, and if she was going to be upset that he wasn’t already a master of magic despite only having a few months to work on it, then that was her problem.
It took him a second to remember the words. He didn’t actually use the Language much when he worked with glass. He spoke, “<Sumo Verra>” which meant “Create Glass.”
First, he summoned glass in the approximate shape of a knife. It took more mana than he would normally spend to get it there quickly, but that wasn’t that important now that he had [Mana Well]. With [Shape Glass], he refined its shape and gave it an edge. He didn’t actually know the words to use so he did it all by feel, remembering the way that knapping the edge gave a blade an edge sharper than razor blades.
The end product was a simple but elegant dagger with a crescent guard and a deadly six-inch blade. Finished, he held it up for her inspection.
“For me?”
He hadn’t expected her to want it, but there wasn’t any reason she couldn’t have it. He nodded.
She took it and ran a finger along the flat part of the blade with a dreamy smile, clearly delighted with the gift. Then her eyes flicked back to him and she schooled her features back to impassivity.
“I believe I have an understanding of where you are in your education. First off, your Class. [Glassbound Illusionist]. You have three separate streams of magic now–glass, light, and sound–at the cost of experience gains.”
He widened his eyes in surprise.
“Make no mistake! The trade was worth it,” she followed up quickly.
“It’s not that. I was just surprised you have such a clear glimpse into my Class. I’m glad it’s out in the open.”
“I may not have Hogg’s [Inspect], but don’t think to hide magic from me. It feels like your Skill levels are around the twenties, is that right?”
“Thereabouts, for my magic Skills,” said Brin.
“We’ll come back to that later. As a [Glasser], you learned to use your magic the way that Commoner crafters do, by feel and without the aid of the Language. As an [Illusionist], you learned to use the language the way that Hogg does. You understand each word just barely well enough to get the magic to hold and then move on. Eventually, you hope to move past the use of the language and call your illusions more intuitively.”
“Well, sure,” said Brin. “Is that not right? I’ve never heard Hogg speak the Language outside of when he’s teaching me, but that’s because he has a Lightmind, right? He probably has novels worth of Language for each of his spells, but it all gets cast automatically. I don’t have that, not yet, and I don’t always have the time to sit down and start reading a super long spell when I’m in trouble. It would be better if I could cast it instantly.”
“Speaking as an [Illusionist] or a [Glasser] that makes sense,” said Lumina. “But aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?”
“Me.”
“Y-you always use the language,” said Brin, feeling dumb.
“I do.”
“I’m guessing that it’s not because you have to.”
She levitated her new dagger into the air and let it spin in place to demonstrate. “I don’t.”
He thought for a minute. His first instinct was to say that Lumina just liked the theatrics of it, but that was silly. She’d cast her spells verbally even when fighting for her life against the [Witch’s] familiars. She wouldn’t be that dumb. No, it must mean that speaking the spells out loud made them stronger. Except he hadn’t ever noticed anything like that with his own Skills. He decided to just ask. “Why do you use the Language?”
“I started this conversation by asking you what you know of the Language, and you answered by telling me about the words you know. But what is the Language?”
Brin thought that was a hypothetical but after the silence turned awkward he said, “I don’t know.”
“Correct,” said Lumina. “To say that you know what it is will unnecessarily constrain it in your mind. Some stories say that it’s the Language of dragons and that it’s the method by which the Gardener carved our world out of primordial chaos. Some say it goes back further, that the Language is the direct effusion of the Primus, or that it is the Primus, and that all of existence is the result of a constant and infinite stream of words flowing directly from his mouth. Perhaps we all disappear when he takes a breath, and then reappear when he speaks again, never realizing that we’ve been gone. An amusing thought, no? Whatever the case, let us not attempt to restrain it by definition and rather examine what we can do with it. Through System-granted Skills, we can use the Language to change reality or speak new things into existence. For example, <Fire>, <Water>, <Air>, and <Earth>.”
She punctuated each word of the Language by summoning an example of that element as in a swirling ball midair. The ball of air was invisible, but he could feel a continuous stream of wind coming from it.
“Or <Light>, <Glass>, and <Sound>,” said Brin. He tried to copy her trick, but the glass didn’t appear and the <Sound> just made a loud pop that made his ears ring.
Lumina winced a little at the loud noise, then continued. “There’s a word for everything in the Language. There are things we don’t have words for in Frenarian. Take <Malor> for example. It means the perfect amount. An amount that’s just perfectly enough.” She pointed to a tree. “<Fire, Malor>”
A small dart of flame flew from her finger and struck a leaf. The flame consumed the entire leaf, and then stopped, burning only the leaf and not a single spark more.
“Some Classes are good at finding new words. An [Arcanist] can learn new words in the Language by meditating on new concepts, and there are many who make a living off selling dictionaries. But you could spend your entire life studying the Language and never learn them all. The Language is infinite in its breadth, but it’s also infinite in its depth. You could spend your entire life studying just one word and never contemplate it fully.”
Brin felt his eyebrows rising as his mind started to reel at all the possibilities. He hadn’t known that, and yet somehow he had. His glass magic had always seen a huge increase every time he made a breakthrough in Ademir’s glass shop. He’d thought that had been the System rewarding him, but it had really been his magic reacting to his increased comprehension.
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If that was the case, there was a lot of low-hanging fruit that he could still pluck. He hadn’t tried any non-silica glasses yet because he didn’t think his magic responded to them, but it might be the other way around. His magic wasn’t responding to them because he hadn’t made any yet. He also hadn’t made a Prince Rupert drop yet, mostly because he hadn’t thought of a good use for them and because there’d always been something more urgent.
Excitement burned away any remaining tiredness as he realized that he actually had time. There was no doom pressing down on the town, no levels he had to grasp before it was too late. He could finally take some time and work on what he wanted.
First, he needed to learn everything he could from her while she was still around, which meant he couldn’t spend all day in the shop. At least not right now, but there were other things he could be doing if comprehension was his only goal. He had a lifetime of knowledge stored in his [Memories in Glass] that he could go over. Not all of the information in there had seemed relevant since he wouldn’t be able to reproduce a lot of the wonders of his old world, but if understanding was the only goal, then there was plenty to be done.
“I see that I’ve given you some ideas,” said Lumina. “Gaining an increased understanding of each word increases its power, utility, and flexibility. Once I understand more, then I need to communicate it back out into the world, so I speak aloud. Have you noticed that a comment spoken aloud will often be different than the same thing written down? There could be many ways to take it, depending on context and tone. Different readers may take away entirely different messages, depending on how they perceive it. It’s the same with the Language. Speaking aloud speaks more. If you train with me, we’ll work on those two things. Knowing more, and then communicating that knowledge back to reality.”
Brin smiled. “Where do we start?”
Lumina held up a hand. “A word of warning first. The reason Hogg hasn’t done this, is because in many ways it’s impractical. By increasing your knowledge of light, you’ll be able to make light of greater variety and intensity with fewer words. As for variety, you already have a reasonable workaround, and when you get a Lightmind it’ll render it a moot point. As for intensity, it may be that you’ll be able to create deadly beams of fire, but it won’t be more than a party trick. It will never be powerful enough to threaten combatants at your same level. The mana cost to heat light up enough is just too high. It’s the same with sound.”
He wondered if that was really true, or if this world just hadn’t invented lasers yet. Another idea of something to try. Even if his lasers didn’t work as weapons, they were much more than a party trick. “What about glass?”
“I can’t make guarantees about how it’ll turn out there either,” said Lumina. “Although, I can say that it’s doubtful that this practice will help you much as a crafter.”
She was giving him an out, which was considerate, but he didn’t need it. “I want to learn. I want to dig down to the heart of magic, not fool around forever on the surface.”
“Then here’s your first assignment. Take the rest of the afternoon to think about glass. Think about what it is, what it means to you. I’ll hear your answer tomorrow morning. Your goal will be to understand <Glass> so well that you’ll be able to summon it without <Create>.”
“Got it!” said Brin. He turned and took two steps before turning back around. It had been years since he’d needed anyone’s permission to come and go, but he wasn’t sure how things were with Lumina yet. “Can I start now?”
She smiled, amused. “Go on.”
He ran down the street, back into town. His first stop wasn’t the glass shop. He made his way to Calisto’s place instead.
Hogg had given the [Alchemist] a vital ingredient he needed to advance from [Pharmacist], which meant that he owed Hogg big time. By extension, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Brin, either.
There was a sign on the door that said, “Not open for new orders.”
He went in anyway.
“Ah! Brin! It’s wonderful! This Class is a miracle, I tell you!” Calisto seemed to be in one of his happy-manic moods, and his wild eyes fixed on Brin as he entered. His light brown hair didn’t seem to have any relation to weight and gravity, and flew every direction as he approached. “Headaches! Pains! Swamp rot! Foot fungus! I can cure it all. And I don’t want to speak too soon, but I might even have a cure for Wyrd-borne illnesses.”
“That would be amazing if it gets Hogg on his feet.”
“Time will tell,” said Calisto. He shook Brin’s hand warmly and then darted right back to his worktable where he was grinding up herbs with a mortar and pestle.
“It sounds like business is doing well?” asked Brin.
“Better than that. I don’t only sell everything I can make, everything I make is sold two weeks before I make it! I don’t think there’s a soul in town who didn’t gain ten levels these past weeks, and they’re all ready to get out there and practice their new Skills. Money seems to be flowing like water since that new lady came to town. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“I might know a little,” said Brin. It was actually Hogg’s work. The old guy’s physical body was still stuck in bed, but that didn’t stop him from sending mirror images running around everywhere promising to buy anything and everything. Hogg thought it was good to keep people busy, and he’d be able to sell it all with a caravan when they started coming back.
A drop of sweat dripped from Calisto’s nose, threatening to fall into the mortar and pestle. He saw the alarm in the [Alchemists] eyes, so Brin reached out and caught it before it could land, and then wiped it off on his shirt. Ew.
Calisto sighed and put his tools down, then stepped over to find a grimy rag to wipe his face. “Thank you! Any amount of salt in that Flatleaf would ruin the whole batch. That’s my biggest problem right now. Supply. If System Day were today and I got ten new [Gatherers], I still wouldn’t have enough.”
Brin started to say that he knew of a really good [Gatherer]-turned-[Huntress], but then stopped himself and had to swallow a lump in his throat. It was strange how even now when he was basically fine, his emotions were always so close to bubbling to the surface. Luiza was a central figure in his nighttime terrors. He hadn’t been there for her death, which gave his mind plenty of leeway to be creative.
When he could trust his voice again, he said, “I was wondering if you could make something a little different.”
“Tell me! If I’m working for you then I have an excuse to not make Hogg any more of his…” Calisto growled, and then flung an arm towards the laboratory portion of his shop. “His Noctis-cursed explosives!”
Brin winced. The laboratory had quite a few new scorch-marks since Brin had been here last. Half of the bottles and beakers were missing, and he’d replaced some of his equipment with regular pots and pans, bubbling away on enchanted burners. He didn’t mention that he had used two of Hogg’s explosive potions and one of his flame potions last week. Were they really that hard to make?
“Actually, I was hoping to get something for sleep,” said Brin.
“I can whip up some sleeping pills, but I don’t recommend them at your age,” said Calisto.
“What about a replacement for sleep?” In his old world he wouldn’t even have asked, but Calisto was an [Alchemist]. There were magical elixirs out there that could completely negate the need for sleep rather than just stimulants to keep you up all night.
“The best replacement for sleep is sleep,” said Calisto.
Brin knew that, but sleep is where the nightmares lived. Also, he didn’t want to waste a single minute of Lumina’s training while she was still here.
“It won’t be forever. I’m really busy right now, but I’ll stop before it becomes a problem,” said Brin. He glanced again at Calisto’s laboratory. “You know, if I had more time, I might be able to get to work on your beakers and test tubes a little sooner.”
Calisto narrowed his eyes. “Come back tomorrow. With beakers! I’ll have something ready. Until then, try to get some rest!”
“You don’t have anything on hand?”
“Why exactly would I have something like that on hand? If I did, I’d use it myself. Tomorrow is the earliest I can do.”
“Fine,” said Brin. He didn’t think he’d need it for tonight anyway. The need to live up to Lumina’s expectations as well as all the new ideas for how to improve would be more than enough stimulus to keep him going.
He left for Ademsi’s workshop. He had glass to make.