Andrew Rowe - Sufficiently Advanced Magic

“Oh? Need some advice on how to woo a young lady, perhaps?”

I blinked. Where did she get these absurd ideas?

“No, Professor. A rune-related question, and I think you’re the only one here who might know the answer.”

“With those younger ladies, flattery will get you everywhere — but with me, Corin, you’re better off just keeping me entertained. I do hope this is an interesting question?”

I nodded. “Is it possible to use runes to perform mathematical calculations?”

She steepled her fingers. “That is an interesting question. If you’re thinking about making a magical device to make it easier to perform math in class, however, I’m afraid that the designs required are quite complex — and most common methods are patented, so it’s not something you could easily make and sell.”

Huh. I hadn’t been thinking of something of that level of complexity, but it was good information to have. “Nothing quite like that. Basically, I’m going to have a divination rune that checks for a value, and then I need to run it through an equation and display the resulting number on a surface. I found the runes for the first step, and I think I know how to make the number display, but I couldn’t find anything on the middle part.”

Vellum leaned back in her chair. “That’s not terribly difficult. You want to run the number through the exact same equation every time?”

I scratched my chin. “Yeah. I think so? I’m pretty sure the underlying equation stays stable, but I admit I haven’t dug into it very deeply yet.”

For the first time in my recollection, Vellum looked stymied. I felt a pang of victory — I think I’d actually managed to confuse her.

“Whatever is this for?”

I tapped the attunement mark on my forehead. “You know people go to the Divinatory periodically to learn how much mana they can use safely from each part of their body?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Important for students, certainly. Most advanced attuned learn to evaluate that by feel.”

“But that’s a flawed approach.” It was a bit of a provocative statement, but I was confident. “Even experts sometimes push themselves beyond their limits, sometimes without realizing it, and suffer permanently for it.”

Fortunately, she didn’t seem offended — just contemplative. “And you think you can solve this by…”

“Every time that I’ve gone to the Divinatory, they’ve cast a single spell to check each part of my body — then scribbled down some math and given me the result. I think they’re checking the total amount of mana flowing through each area, then running it through a simple formula to tell me how much is safe to use. I could make items that do that.”

“What’s the point? Making a permanent item like that would mean spending a significant amount of money on a service that’s inexpensive or free. It’s not worth saving a few minutes.”

I shook my head. “That’s not the point of the device — it’s just the first part. We have it measure the user’s mana at rest and store that number, and then make it visible on a surface. Then, we have it actively monitor the user’s mana, tracking how their current mana compares to the first number. We show a second number — the amount of remaining mana the wearer can still spend safely — next to the maximum value.”

Vellum lifted a hand to her chin, twisting her lips. “It could be done. You’d want to display it as a fraction — something like ten mana left out of twenty — to make it useful. But I don’t know if I like it. It could make the wearer rely on the device, rather than their own judgment.”

I shrugged at that. “If nothing else, it might help keep someone cognizant of the small mana uses that they aren’t aware of from day-to-day activities. I still have no idea how rapidly using my attunement drains my mana, for example. How long can I use it safely? I have no idea — none of my books talk about it.”

“That’s something they should have explained in your first weeks of class. You probably just weren’t paying attention.”

“Maybe, but I doubt I’m the only one. And when someone knows dozens of spells, and they’re in the middle of the tower, can you honestly say they’re tracking their mana usage accurately?”

She shook her head. “No, they’re probably not, but I’m not certain taking the time to check a device would be beneficial. You’d have to press it against whichever section of the body you want to measure, then look at wherever you’re displaying the numbers — not necessarily practical in a fight.”

“I was thinking something wearable, like a pocket watch on a chain. You could just grab it out of the pocket, press it to your hand or forehead or whatever, and then look at the number. I agree that might still be too dangerous in the middle of a fight, but maybe between two rooms? I don’t know about you, but I think I’d find that information valuable.”

“Perhaps. But you must understand that people develop a degree of pride about being able to keep track of their own mana. I’m not sure adults would value a device that makes them look incapable. I don’t know how you’d market it.”

Pride. I hadn’t thought about that.

But it actually made this even easier.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier. But, you’re absolutely right, Professor. Checking a pocket watch every room would make you look paranoid. That’s why we don’t put it in a pocket. If mana management makes people proud?”

I made a sweeping gesture with my hands. “Why not tell the whole world how powerful you are? We don’t tuck the device away. We make it a necklace, or a wrist watch. Something that shows openly and visibly, so you can show off how much mana you have. It could be a status symbol, like how some people like to show off their strongest attunement.”

Vellum wrinkled her nose. “That’s precisely the opposite of what some people would want. You know that traditionally nobles wear a glove to cover their attunements and hide their strength. Weren’t you wearing a glove yourself when we first met?”

I nodded. “And that’s precisely how we’ll make a profit on it. Pride. We can tell the younger generation that, rather than hide their power out of fear, they should flaunt it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And if you make it competitive…”

“Even older attuned might feel compelled to do the same, to prove that they’re stronger than these upstart children.”

Professor Vellum nodded contemplatively. “It’s a clever idea. Most clever ideas never go anywhere, but I can see some potential here. So, before you sell any, you’re going to patent it.”

I blinked. “What?”

“This is, perhaps, the most important lesson that you’re going to learn from me. Anything of sufficient value — and I do mean anything — provokes greed. If you think you could sell more than a handful of these, you need to protect yourself. Patenting a design can be intimidating, and the paperwork is awful, but you need to do it.”

I frowned. “And if there’s already a patent out there?”

“Then you have the dubious honor of coming up with a brilliant idea that someone else already thought of. You’ll find that’s far more common than developing anything truly unique.”

“But if it is unique, and I do get a patent?”

“Then we, young Corin Cadence, are going to make a great deal of money.”

I spent the next two weeks working on my first model of the device.

And my second, when the first one failed. I’d misunderstood how to use one of the runes, which made the calculation always evaluate to zero. Oops.

Professor Vellum was surprisingly enthusiastic about helping. I’d never seen her take any serious interest in one of my projects, but she had me check in every few days with a status update, and even made me some of the crystals that I needed.