Hope

“Yes, let us discuss terms,” Irwyn nodded. “I assume you have something in mind.”

“My family is willing to provide whatever you need within reason,” Elizabeth said, her smile turning more serious. “That is, under 2 conditions. Firstly, you must continue growing your magic, including… completing your education in that and other regards.”

“And I assume you will provide me with that education,” Irwyn made sure. It was barely a condition at all, considering he had been starving for magical knowledge and would have pursued such either way.

“Of course. You will have resources available,” she nodded.

“It is hardly a difficult condition considering I would have done so myself,” Irwyn did want to learn a bit more though. “However, it does make me wonder why you want to be so sure I will keep improving.”

“I am unfortunately not at leisure to disclose everything,” Elizabeth explained, “However, the grudge you have formed will likely not fade with just time. And when they come to collect, my family would benefit if you inflicted a cost of your own.”

“Enemy of my enemy. Except I would be more of a pawn than a player,” Irwyn almost gave her a cynical chuckle. Though it was probably better than the alternatives all things considered. He had faith that Old Crow would not set him up for this if it was just certain death. Their goal, after all, did not require him to die.

“You will get your chance to grow. The branch family of house Blackburg that you have offended has no official presence in Abonisle and their few spies have been made unreliable,” she tried to hide her slight discomfort as she justified it, though Irwyn caught it. “You will have as much time as can be bought before the risk grows too much for my family to bear. It might be years before they catch even a trail.”

“I am hardly complaining,” Irwyn waved his hand. “It would be hypocritical of me to criticize fellow ruthless opportunists, especially if they are helping me,” though he would not trust them fully either. Irwyn would need to get local contacts in the Guild and prepare for the eventuality that they throw him to the wolves. Good thing he was already started on that route with knowing Desir.

“Risk management is hardly opportunism,” Elizabeth defended, frowning slightly.

“I suppose we work with a different definition of the word,” Irwyn shrugged, suppressing the itch to argue about the point. It was to him a rather clear-cut case but it was not the time considering the person opposite might as well have his continued survival in the palm of her hand. “I am much more interested in hearing your second condition.”

“Ah, of course,” Elizabeth failed to hide her slight startlement again. “The second condition is simple: Any aid my family provides will be asked, approved and delivered through me.”

“Please elaborate?” Irwyn raised an eyebrow, showing no more of his surprise.

“It is not an uncommon arrangement with more established houses,” Elizabeth tried to keep her expression calm while nervousness flickered behind her eyes. “I have undergone extensive training and education, however, I need more practical experience. I have convinced my parents to allow me this opportunity as long as I remain within Abonisle. So, I will be accompanying you during your stay.”

“I… see,” Irwyn nodded, processing the information. “You are aware I frequently interact with the less spoken-about parts of society. Will that be a problem?”

“Yes, I am aware of your Guild,” Elizabeth seemed rather dismissive of the suggested conflict of interests. “As long as they do not overstep the agreed-upon boundaries I am not so overzealous as to go against my family’s agreements for persecution. Petty theft is above my notice,” in that case Irwyn would make sure she would never see more than that.

“In that case, I suppose we will be in each other’s care,” Irwyn gave her a pleasant smile. Elizabeth seemed rather… sheltered from what he had observed, and the excitement was telling that she did not quite understand how the people at the bottom lived. However, he would not be blinded by first impressions. She had also clearly undergone training in magic Irwyn desperately desired. So as long as she was not utterly unbearable, which she didn’t appear to be, it would not be hard to bring her along until she got disillusioned and bored of whatever ‘adventures’ she expected. There was likely no problem when it came to her safety either: Irwyn would not soon forget that Alira had been followed by an exceptionally dangerous caster extremely competent in stealth and there was no doubt in his mind that Elizabeth had at least a similar level of protection. In fact, they were most likely not alone in the room, though Irwyn would pretend to not know.

“Happy to hear your agreement,” she was barely hiding the excitement now. “Actually, how about we get started right away?”

“I do not see why not,” Irwyn shrugged amicably. “What do you have in mind?”

“Have you read any of the editions by Magelord Farmolian?” she asked.

“It does not ring a bell,” Irwyn admitted.

“Then how about Magelord Aarmonius or…” Elizabeth kept asking and in her excitement it took her 6 tries before she realised Irwyn had not read any of the ‘introductory’ textbooks or thesis.

“I… I am not sure what to say,” she admitted, dimming a bit. “I suppose… maybe we can do a standard measurement?”

“What does that involve?” Irwyn asked, even he was slightly embarrassed about his ignorance even if he couldn’t help it. Elizabeth had clearly expected him to be far more knowledgeable than he actually was.

“It’s simple,” she said and a crystal bead appeared in her hand. Irwyn almost flinched as he had felt not the slightest trace of any magic being cast or from where that could have appeared. Elizabeth did not even notice as she kept explaining. “This is an empty container with the capacity of exactly 5 mana units, MU. It’s difficult to explain what that is or why is it exactly this much without context since it’s based on Armonius’ second law, but simplistically, it is the standard unit of measurement. Anyway, what I need you to do is to pour as much magic as you can into it to see how quickly you can overflow it.”

“What happens if it’s too much magic for it to handle?” Irwyn asked as she handed him the crystal. He had no actual knowledge of how much magic he could channel compared to an average caster, however, he was going to unhumbly guess it was probably above average.

“Don’t worry if you break it,” Elizabeth did not seem bothered, however, “They are not expensive,” and Irwyn wondered if that was actually true or if it was just her skewed idea of prices.

“Very well,” Irwyn nodded and focused on the item. It was easy to channel his magic into it, perhaps even easier than usual. The gem was an emptiness longing to be filled and so Irwyn obliged… for about half a second before the gem filled up and shattered into a fine dust in his hand.

“Well done,” Elizabeth whistled happily.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Irwyn questioned. It seemed rather unintuitive if so.

“I wouldn’t say ‘supposed’, however, it is hardly uncommon,” she explained. “All this means that your vessel has capacity above 25 MU; a lot above considering how quickly it broke. That is exceptional at our age. A proper measurement above that needs a dedicated device rather than just this portable thing, though smuggling you into a proper facility might be… problematic.”

“Vessel?” Irwyn was more interested in that word than the possibility of better measurements. He had no idea how much 25 was but letting people he hardly trusted get their hands on precise information on his abilities that he himself did not understand was unwise to say the least.

“Yes, my mistake, I forget you don’t understand the basic terms,” Elizabeth apologized with slight chagrin and explained. “All mages have three measurable capacities that determine how much magic they can wield. We call them the Vessel, the Funnel and the Reservoir. The Vessel is how much mana your body can constantly hold, immediately available for spells. The Reservoir determines how much mana can be stored within your soul, it is usually dozens of times greater than the vessel and can take a long time to fully replenish through the ambience and also the Luxen-Aa… well, through a process that provably does not require any ambient magic to take in. Then the funnel is what connects the two, simplified, it determines how quickly your reservoir refills your vessel. You are probably familiar with what happens when your vessel is empty: Just remember when you were casting magic when suddenly you were struck by a crippling headache while your limbs completely gave out for hours. That is what happens when you completely deplete the vessel. And since it’s very difficult to learn how to actually feel how much mana you have left, most people rely on measurements and calculating costs to avoid overcasting.”

“I see, fascinating,” Irwyn nodded along with the explanation while he tried to think back. Had he ever experienced something like that? Well, he had definitely suffered through headaches while casting, though those hardly ever lasted that long unless he overwhelmed his capacity to think with stuff like his attempts to magically see with daylight. But he had no memory of the drastic consequences Elizabeth had described. She had also described them as if it was inevitable Irwyn had experienced such, which made Irwyn certain that he should not mention that he hadn’t. Considering they were the signs of depletion, it was most likely a good thing as well.

“What happens when the reservoir is depleted then?” Irwyn asked, particularly curious if he could spot any familiar symptoms on that front.

“It is technically not possible to exhaust the reservoir fully,” Elizabeth explained, though she suddenly showed deep discomfort in her eyes. “However, mages begin to experience increasingly dire symptoms when they get below 50%. At first it’s just lethargy, maybe a slight itch that cannot be scratched. Below 40 it comes to constant migraines and short bursts of inexplicable pain all across the body. Under 30 causes severe insomnia and unceasing bone-deep agony besides the previous symptoms. Any lower than that and there is supposedly a risk of permanent damage or even death.”

“I see… important to know,” Irwyn did not comment further, noticing that the explanation seemed to have lowered Elizabeth’s spirits somewhat. At least he could be reasonably certain he had never dipped far below half if even that. Lethargy and itching were hardly unique and any combinations of the two he had experience might have also been caused by poor sleep schedule and coincidence. “I have known that I have gaps in my knowledge so thank you for filling some of them.”

“This is hardly a start,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes, seemingly less guarded now. “There is enough to study in magic that sages die of old age before taking a tenth of it in. On the other hand I find it quite fascinating that you have come as far as you did just by yourself. I cannot imagine reaching my ability without the foundation of my predecessors.”

“I am hardly sure myself,” Irwyn could only shrug. “I have had this feeling for magic as far as I can remember. It just came naturally to me I suppose. Then it was all about practice and pushing my limits,” and a artifact with a vision that somehow pushed him leaps further. He glanced at the burning sunflower still sitting at the table which swayed slightly at his whim.

“Yes, you certainly have exceptional talent, to the point you will likely be the cause of several reforms in the upcoming years.”

“Reforms?” Irwyn could not imagine what she meant.

“Well, the Duchy of Black, and most of the Federation for that part, have developed extensive ways of testing talent for magic at a young age. Such would be administered early on in public education which is free and mandatory for all children. Except…”

“I am a street orphan who never was part of that system,” Irwyn finished in a nod. It was a sensible system even if it had blind spots. It was an issue he had been long aware off: The Duchy of Black maintained a certain level of bureaucracy which included logging of birth certificates to verify identities if someone wanted to dig deep enough. Old Crow had known people who could actually forge convincing fake identities by subsuming those of deceased people with no living relatives, though the whole process apparently involved a high degree of bribes and/or infiltration. But unlike just forged personal documentation, it would stand up to almost any scrutiny. That had, however, never really been an option for Irwyn. As Old Crow had warned him, casters had special legal status in the Duchy which made such identities so difficult to forge as to make it practically impossible; turning himself in as an unregistered caster at his age had not been an option either, it would raise a lot of questions and problems.

“Well, actual change will take some years until the circumstances grow less… volatile,” Elizabeth continued. “I would also not want to be the person who has to figure out the practical execution of such reforms. However, talent is the most valuable resource, or so I am told.”

“Well, I do wonder how many casters actually slip to the cracks like me,” Irwyn shrugged. He knew no other in Ebon Respite and the city had perhaps the most populated slums in any town he had come across in his travels.

“Mages,” Elizabeth frowned.

“Sorry?”

“The proper term is mages,” she corrected. “Caster is an archaic term, nowadays used only outside the Federation.”

“My bad. I will keep that in mind then,” Irwyn nodded thoughtfully. He would correct that, hopefully. It made him wonder where he came upon the term 'caster' in the first place but could not quite remember. It must have been ages ago. Odds were on the Old Crow who had admitted to originally be from further North.

“It’s no big issue,” Elizabeth elaborated, seemingly a bit embarrassed at Irwyn’s seriousness. “I just find it easier to communicate ideas when everyone is on the same page.”

“I feel the same way, despite my general ignorance,” Irwyn shook his head. It was also his preference. “Temporary ignorance if I can help it. By the end of the month I am sure that we will be speaking in jargon.”

“That sounds appealing,” Elizabeth smiled, before growing slightly sheepish as she spoke again. “I could provide you some literature, though I am unsure as to what level you have achieved in more mundane education.”

“Understandable concern,” Irwyn took no offence at the implication. It was not even completely wrong after all, “I believe myself a rather proficient reader and I have received basic tutoring in economy, statistics and mathematics,” he had the Old Crow to thank for those lessons, though they had been targeted at more practical parts of those subjects. “As for writing… Well it would be best if I could just show you. Do you perhaps have a pen and paper available?”

“That can be easily arranged,” Elizabeth raised a brow in curiosity. “Perhaps it would be a good opportunity to order the promised dessert. What would you prefer.”

“You clearly know better than me,” Irwyn shrugged, betraying none of his anticipation. The meal had been very memorable after all.

“Very well then,” Elizabeth nodded picking up one of the speaking crystals. “Please, if you would deliver us gelato with matching attunement and mundane writing supplies.”

“So, how will happen moving forward?” Irwyn broached as they waited for the food.

“Besides teaching you what I know, I can also provide you with literature, as promised,” Elizabeth nodded. “Next I have an instructor for combat exercises, you will join us if you have the time.”

“I have nothing particular in mind until next week, though I wanted to explore the city sometime soon,” and inquire more about the workings of the Guild before the meeting that Desir had scheduled with him.

“I will accompany you as a guide then,” she seemed excited at the prospect. “I can bring you to places generally not available to the public. Actually, do you know what a Dredge is?”

“Cannot say I do,” Irwyn shook his head.

“Then I will not spoil the surprise,” she nodded just as the Time/Space above the table shifted again. Besides the pen and paper, the so-called ‘gelato’ appeared.

It was ice cream. Or at least looked like it. Irwyn had enjoyed those a scarce few times on behalf of it being basically an expensive luxury food back in Ebon Respite, due to the price of storage. His was radiant yellow and glowing while Elizabeth’s was darker than black. Supposedly, making something cold did not go along with Flame.

Without any further reservation, Irwyn dug in, tasting the essence of Light dissolve on his tongue; and it was far more addictive than sugar could ever be, Irwyn realised. The kind of bliss this caused him could lead to dark places without moderation. He wondered if it could result in physical dependence like the many substances he had beheld in the slums of his old home, or if the desire would remain purely mental. Either way, he promised himself not to over-indulge. For now though, he enjoyed the exquisite experience.

When he was done he noticed Elizabeth only halfway done with hers, looking at him with smiling satisfaction. The pen and paper had at some point been pushed towards him so Irwyn hid his embarrassment at not even noticing the motion and prepared to do his showing.

“I suppose this makes for a good parlor trick,” Irwyn muttered as he lowered the pen. “Please, watch carefully I will attempt to write my own name in one stroke,” and try he did. When the pen left the paper there was only a jumble of lines, dots and inked shapes that his hand’s motion could not have possible produced; gaps separated parts of the mess despite the single uninterrupted stroke. Irwyn felt almost smug as he stared at Elizabeth’s expression switching between wonder and confusion.

“How in the world…”