Andrew Rowe - Sufficiently Advanced Magic

I winced. “I thought the feather was sufficient to handle it?”

Heh. Handle it. Unintentional puns are the best. I didn’t laugh, though. Her glare was a little too intense for that.

“You… didn’t happen to find my feather, did you?” I asked hesitantly.

“Oh yes, I found the remains of a feather,” she said, her voice pleasant. Had her eye twitched? “Frozen and blackened. It crumbled to dust when your friend attempted to pick it up.”

Well. That was more than a little foreboding.

“Okay, I admit I may have miscalculated.”

“You were unwise. But, in fairness, so was I.” Vellum sat back in her chair. “I saw the sword on your hip when you first visited, and I failed to recognize it. That oversight was as great as your own, and for that, I apologize.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I… accept your apology?”

She nodded amiably. “Good, good. Now, you’ll also accept some rules.” There was steel in that final sentence.

Oh, that sounds bad.

She raised a finger. “One. You will not bring that weapon into any further simulations.”

It was a brutal restriction — the sword was one of my key assets — but it made sense.

She waited for my nod before she lifted a second finger. “Two. You will not train with the sword without my direct supervision. We will schedule lessons for you to learn how to wield it properly.”

That was going to slow me down considerably, but I still nodded again.

Third finger. “Three. You will read this book on empathic weapons.” She slid a book across the desk. “I expect you to study it closely if you expect to use the weapon during your visit to the tower later this year.”

I blinked. “Empathic weapons?”

Vellum nodded, pointing at the fourth rune. “This is a spirit rune. It is among the rarest enchantments to find on an object, and among the most dangerous. When you wished to shield yourself from fire, the sword responded . It continued to attempt to shield you even after you lost consciousness. This rune is why.”

I blinked. “You’re saying the sword is intelligent?”

“Perhaps intelligent is too strong a word. Without a detailed study, I cannot say if the sword is self-aware. It does, however, have a spirit bound to it, and that spirit is bound to act according to your will. This gives the weapon tremendous potential power… but if misused, it could easily be fatal to you or your allies.”

I remembered a flash of the dream, the swordsman holding this same blade. Was the spirit tied to the sword his own? Perhaps that explained the dream. I could have been seeing one of the weapon’s memories.

I hadn’t seen how that memory had ended yet, but I was pretty sure I knew where it had been going.

“Okay. I understand your restrictions and accept them.” I pointed at the exposed surface. “Can you explain the other two runes?”

Vellum looked where I had indicated. “One of them is an extremely advanced rune for interfacing between sword and wielder. The fourth rune,” her brows knit together, “I confess I don’t recognize. A rare event, I assure you.”

Interesting . “Do you think it poses an additional threat?”

“Everything we do not understand is a potential threat, Corin. It is, however, also a potential advantage. I will write the rune down and search the archives in my own free time. My curiosity would permit no less.”

I saw the gesture for what it was. “Thank you, Professor.”

“Now that you’ve been thoroughly chastised, I suspect you owe your friends a visit. They were quite concerned.”

Friends?

Oh, she meant my team members. I hadn’t really processed most of them as friends yet, other than Patrick. I still wasn’t sure I could call Marissa a friend; I barely knew her. Jin was closer, but he was more of a business associate. Probably.

“I’ll do that, but another question first.”

She waved for me to continue, a weary look on her face. “And what other nonsense did you have in mind?”

“Without the sword, I’ll be at a significant disadvantage in future tests. You mentioned you’d teach me ‘real enchanting’. I’d like to get started on that as soon as possible, so I can build some sort of replacement. And, once I’ve talked to the others, I’d like to start building equipment for them as well.”

“I understand that you’ve already made a number of objects of dubious value for one of them.”

“Those were commissions at his request,” I replied. “But, having seen how challenging this test was, I’d like to make some other items on my own initiative to help everyone succeed. There are a couple of problems, however.”

“Problems?”

“First is my lack of knowledge, which I hope you’ll help me address. Second is a lack of funds.”

“Ah, yes. Money. The perpetually shrinking resource of any intrepid Enchanter. I can’t help you. Even if I was to take you on formally as my apprentice, our school has tight restrictions on the resources a professor is allowed to give a current student. The rules are designed for students who want more resources to push themselves into Phoenix Hall. If we could give away funds however we wanted, it would diminish the incentive for students to work toward better grades.”

I didn’t entirely agree with that. There would always be good students that didn’t have the ability or interest to secure a mentor, and they’d benefit from getting into Phoenix Hall. Still, I could understand the intent. It was possible I needed to take working toward Phoenix Hall a bit more seriously.

“I could still use advice on how to make money without losing the limited time that I have to study,” I pushed. I’d thought about apprenticing to that automobile salesman, but I knew that would take more hours than I was willing to sacrifice.

“Have you considered selling enchanted items? Finished products can often sell for considerably more than the material costs.”

I nodded. “It’s occurred to me, but I’m not sure how I could compete with factories that mass produce the most useful enchanted goods. I mean, maybe I could make something more obscure that a climber might find useful, but then I’d have to spend time finding someone who wanted to buy a niche item.”

“Let me test something.” She placed her left hand over her gloved right and stepped over to my side of the table. She pressed two gloved fingers against my forehead. “Your mental mana here is abysmal. Have you even been practicing?”

I withered away from her touch. “Um, I sort of don’t like to use my mental mana?”

She shot me a look of disbelief. “Whyever not?”

“I, uh, really don’t like the idea of losing my mental acuity. Or, you know, killing myself by accident.” My shoulders rose defensively.

“Like you did with your sword, you mean?”

“Okay, okay.” My hands went up in surrender. “I accept that I made a mistake with the sword. But,” I added, “that doesn’t mean that showing caution about something else is a bad idea.”

She snorted. “Have you been using your attunement?”

“A little bit, here and there.”

Her fingers jabbed my forehead again. “And what mana, exactly, do you think you’re using for that?”

I didn’t have a good response to that. The answer was obvious. “I didn’t think…”

She didn’t wait for me to finish. “And have you been killing yourself when you use the attunement? Or losing a significant degree of mental acuity?”

“In fairness, I’m not sure I’d be able to tell if I was losing my ability to think clearly.”

“You would.” Her tone brooked no argument. “Your headaches will reach a crippling intensity long before you lose any significant mental acuity. If you’re impairing your ability to think, you’ll know , and you can stop. It is imperative that you practice using your mental mana, and not just through using your attunement. It is the only reliable way to advance your attunement to a greater stage. And if you truly wish to make useful items for your friends, or to make a profit, you need to be able to reach at least a Carnelian-level in that attunement.”