They took the back entrance this ti, in a carriage that Tonin hired since there was still no sign of Hogg. When they entered the atrium, the [Valet] kept his head down and shifted his eyes back and forth with a serious scowl as if searching for threats. Brin bet this was his version of gazing around in wonder at the magical sights, only slightly leaking through his determined professionalism.
"I still don't know where my locker is," said Brin.
"Not to worry, I'll find it. Move from class to class as you will. You'll have what you need when you need it," said Tonin.
"Hey, Brin, wait up!" called a voice. Brin looked behind him to see Bia. She was walking with two n, nad Sallvador and Rafael. Sallvador was athletic compared to many of his classmates and had kept the [Student of Magic] Class. [Wyrdic Inspect] was a little odd with him, because it didn’t say much beyond the Class title, but Brin could feel sothing in the man’s power, sothing friendly? That wasn’t the word. Familiar.
Rafael was tall, but thin and a [Mage of Water]. They seed like they were already all friends, which ant that both of them were likely firmly in Duke Cobol's camp, along with Bia herself.
Tonin dropped back to make room for them.
"Is your na Brin isu Yambul?" asked Bia.
That was a weird thing to ask. They’d t yesterday. "Um. Who are your friends, Bia?"
"Sallvador da Vila and Rafael of Makado. Now, answer . Is--"
"Great to et you both," said Brin, and shook their hands.
"Pleasure," said Sallvador.
"Likewise the honor is mine. But if thou wilt humor her, there is a purpose," said Rafael.
"Am I going to like this purpose?"
"Is your na Brin isu Yambul?" asked Bia.
"Yes."
"Are you sixteen years old?"
"Yes.
"Did you grow up in... no, I can't ask that. Are you the son of the Mystical Elents?"
It took him a second to realize she was talking about Lumina. "Yes?"
"Um... this... I can't ask any of the usual questions. Are you Frenarian?" asked Bia.
"No."
"Are you a goblin in disguise?"
"No."
"Ok, good enough. What do you know about the attack last night?" asked Bia.
Brin snorted. "Oh. So that's what this is about. You were asking baseline questions to get my heart rate for when I'm telling the truth." She'd picked the exact wrong questions, too. All of them had complicated answers, except the one about the goblin.
Bia shrugged, completely unabashed. "It's not just heart rate. I can track perspiration rate, eye movent, even physiologic tremors."
Brin covered his chest with his hands again. "What have I told you about peering beneath my clothes? And why did you assu I would answer?"
"People always do. You did," said Bia.
"And what's your part in this?" Brin asked her friends.
"To apologize in her place," said Sallvador. "You'll have to forgive her, my lord. She's normally a quite congenial woman."
"And proper." Bia nudged Rafael.
"She is oft the soul of propriety," assured Rafael.
"So? What do you know?" pressed Bia.
"Lumina looked pretty upset last night, but she wouldn't tell why. All I know is what I learned in the papers this morning," said Brin.
Bia slumped. "He's obviously got so training on fooling truth-tellers, but I think... I think he's telling the truth."
"Hey, don't look so disappointed! I'll try to be involved with the next murderous plot," said Brin.
"Promise?" asked Bia.
"Wait. What did you read in the papers?" asked Sallvador.
Brin told them about the headline, which they'd already known about, but also the part in the Help Wanted section, that all three of them had missed. They spent their walk to class throwing out ideas and theories, but there really wasn't much to go off of.
The classroom was decorated with the sa casual elegance he'd seen in the rest of the Tower, but what surprised him was the lack of desks. He'd really expected desks. Instead, there was a depressed ring in the center of the room, with padded chairs on the edges while the teacher was already standing in the center.
Brin saw that the seats went nearly all the way around, so that if you arrived late, you'd be staring mostly at the teacher's back. The teacher in question wasn't a [Mage] at all. Instead he was a [Lecturer], which was good enough since this was the mandatory philosophy class.
The room was buzzing with conversation when he entered, with everyone discussing the sa question of the attack on the Tower. Sallvador and Rafael kept moving as they weren't actually in this Class, and Bia didn't make any move to sit next to him, so he took a seat in the front and center.
He pretended not to notice the quick, cutthroat shuffling between a crowd of girls that left Sancha sitting next to him and a level 20 [Student of Magic] nad Erivira on the other side.
He quickly filled them in on what rumors he'd heard so far, and what he'd read in the paper.
"They lack for servants? Thinkst thou that we shall be suffered now to bring our own servants within?" asked Sancha.
"You know, I didn't ask. I just brought my man inside, and the guys at the doors didn't stop him," said Brin.
Sancha clapped with glee. "Most excellent."
"Now that you've found your seats... students? Ahem!" The [Lecturer], a long-bearded man nad Brahm, tried and failed to gain the attention of the Class. No one outright contradicted them, but they didn't have the instincts to want to listen when a commoner was talking.
"The Master of Magic..." began Brahm, and suddenly every voice in the classroom hushed. "...has authorized to assign points, either as derits or awards. Since he will not have the ti to get to know you individually, he will allow these points to determine how favorably he feels towards you."
"Points," Brin breathed, suddenly feeling excited.
Brahm blinked around at the rapt attention suddenly on him. He'd probably been gearing up to give so negative points to those who still wouldn't shut up, but since there were none, he said, "Yes, well. Very good. One Chaos point for all of you."
Brin had a point. What could he do with this point? He didn't know. He just knew he wanted more. He didn't get the chance to find out how, since Brahm went straight into the lecture.
The topic was on Primus, the Ur-god, and since he was considered the Pri Mover, whether any of the the major gods, lesser gods, or godlings should even be considered gods at all. The reason that there were no desks quickly beca clear, since everything was done orally. Brahm would call upon students and have them argue either for or against certain viewpoints, and then grade them on the spot on their performance. The grade wouldn't be on which viewpoint specifically they took, but how well they demonstrated they understood the subject matter, and how well they elucidated their point.
It was both familiar and uncomfortable, since Brin's ti in the monastery had given him a solid foundation on the religious side, but he wasn't pleased with how easily the other students spoke casually about holy beings that Brin knew to be real or how the teacher's default position was entirely heretical. When he got the chance, Brin spoke up in defense of the idea of derivative movers, where each of the lesser gods were their own ultimate cause but still shaped and organized by the Primus. While the teacher awarded him full marks, he wasn't sure how well he ca across.
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He really could learn sothing from this class, if only about how to speak well when he was put on the spot. He was mostly book-smart in his old life, and speaking well was sothing he had to learn here.
He also learned that he didn't want to attend this class in person–not every day. In many ways it was slow and frankly boring. He fixed this by summoning two conscious threads, each taking up an equal portion of his ti. His high ntal Control modified it so that he experienced life at only double-speed, and that made it perfect for keeping his attention. In the future, he might be able to get away with sending a Mirror Image to this class, but the girls who hounded him also took every excuse they could to touch him, so he'd have to think it through.
His leadership class was next, and again there were no desks. The teacher spent the entire period covering the syllabus, but Brin got the feeling it would be a lot like so of his Business Managent classes in his old life. He'd glided straight through those classes back then; business classes had nothing on the kind of pain that programming could throw at you.
Between classes, he ntioned to Tonin that he found it strange that none of the other students took notes. He had an excuse, but surely not all of them had mory Skills.
Tonin replied, "Lords and ladies don't get to consult their notes, do they? If your job is walking around talking to people, then you either know sothing or you don't. Are you going to check your notes at supper with the grand duke, or when you're on the witness stand at court, or when you're groveling in front of the [King], or when you're facing down an angry mob?"
Calligraphy was just as it sounded, so there actually were desks for that, but again in History it was all verbal. This teacher at least made a big deal about how they should all complete their reading before class each day, but he didn't have them pull out pen or paper during the class.
Each period, there was a hustle when he entered the room where they jockeyed over who got to sit with him. Sancha made it twice more, and he got to sit by Ares once when the tall [Mage] made it to the room before him.
Finally, it was ti for lunch, and after passing his books to Tonin and receiving his robes, he rushed straight to the elevator and took it all the way down to the labyrinth.
The sa walls and the dim eerie light greeted him the sa as before, but this ti he went full power from the beginning. He put a ball of pure light in his hand and pressed all the Mana he could into it all at once, uncaring about the drain. The labyrinth pressed back with its full power, a mighty working created by an [Illusionist] who was completely beyond him in terms of intelligence, cleverness, and even sheer magical might. Brin struggled against him anyway, holding nothing back. The weight of the labyrinth's defenses were overwhelming, and he knew that he was going to lose, that his attempt to light the way would be snuffed out. Worse, the labyrinth was using him. It was coopting his light, using it to fuel the power working against him. It was futile. He pushed against it anyway.
Satisfied, the labyrinth yielded.
"You guys were right. It really is easier once you get the hang of it." Brin's hood was up and his mask was on when he entered the inner sanctum.
Many of the [Illusionists] he'd seen yesterday were already lined up, like they were waiting for newcors. Valentin, the Master of Illusions, stood in the front, but he didn't seem busy, so he approached.
"I'd like to test into the full Circle," said Brin.
"So soon?" asked Valentin.
Brin nodded.
"Very well. This will be good for our new arrivals to witness, I think. I'll call you forward when they arrive."
So Brin was right, there would be new initiates to the Circle today. It made sense; he couldn't be the only [Illusionist] joining this year. But why had they summoned him alone yesterday? Maybe as a favor. Or maybe he was the only one summoned, and the other newcors already knew about this place and would seek it out.
The others motioned him into place, at the very end of the left-hand line. He took his place and waited. They kept their eyes on the labyrinth walls. Sotis, one would shift and a doorway would appear, or another would close. Every ti there was movent, he expected to see soone walk through, but it never happened, until finally it did.
Brin was gratified to see Sallvador enter, Bia's friend who [Inspected] as a [Student of Magic]. No wonder his magic had felt familiar. He was a full [Illusionist]. He held his arms in the air like he'd just scored the winning touchdown, a giant grin on his face. Then a girl nad Neta was next. She was a [Mage of Fire] and [Wyrdic Inspect] told Brin most of her authority was there, and she’d only specialized to [Illusionist] recently. She looked around the room with wide eyes, trembling with relief to be through the maze, but also looking as if she were near tears.
There was nothing in place to shield their identities, so Brin deduced that this was the point of the ritual, and also why it was so widely attended. If you were here, then you got to know the real nas of the [Illusionists] who entered after you.
"Lancer, step forward, if you please," said Valentin.
Brin approached the Master of Illusion, standing where he had for initiation.
"At this point, I would normally suppress your Lightmind. As your Lightmind is not implanted, I will simply ask you to surrender your orb."
Brin held out the glass Lightmind, and Valentin took it, holding it out so that Brin could see he wasn't taking it away.
"Please demonstrate a Mirror Image."
Brin spun up a Directed Thread and had it summon a Mirror Image the old way, by reading through the spell as it existed in his stored mories. He was surprised at how much he'd already gotten used to his Lightmind, because the second-and-a-half it took to create a Mirror Image felt like an agonizingly long ti. He knew that was stupid. Without [mories in Glass], this would be agonizingly difficult, and the Master of Illusions was prepared to wait for up to five minutes.
The spell succeeded on its first try; even without a Lightmind, Brin hadn't failed at one of these in more than a year now. He summoned an image of Valentin himself, just to prove that he was also using Copy Light and not summoning sothing he'd prepared beforehand.
"Very well. Please tell , how many fingers am I holding behind my back?" asked Valentin.
Brin had already summoned the Invisible Eye he needed. "Three."
"And now?" Valentin asked, and held his hand beneath his thick cloak. Brin had made sure to have the X-ray spell morized. This one was a little harder to use, because any light that could go through clothes could also go through skin and muscle, and he still wasn't quite used to the ss of information this spell sent his brain. Still, he was able to get a faint outline. "Two."
"Very well. Tell , what is that rule for illusions outside our sanctum?"
"Don't get caught," said Brin.
"Very well. Tell , what is the aning of the rule for illusions outside our sanctum?"
"We must never again teach the world to fear us. All illusions are permitted so long as no one knows they are illusions."
"Very well. Lancer, I welco you to the Circle of Illusions as a full mber. Welco, brother. Our doors will always open to you."
Alert! Your achievent has advanced:
Mage
Second Circle Mage. You are a mber of the Circle of Illusions.
Sallvador and Neta went next, and both of them were inducted into the Circle. Sallvador took the na Hart, while Neta nad herself Wasp. [Illusionists] imdiately sward them offering congratulations, while Brin went to the doors that had been locked yesterday to see what his new mbership would offer him.
Just as promised, the doors opened as he arrived. The first new room was a workshop, filled with enchantnt construction devices that were even more complicated and difficult to use than the ones in the main room. Since he hadn’t even familiarized himself with the basics yet, he figured it would be a while before he used that one. Next were dormitories, rooms with bunks and a shared bathroom at the end of the hall. They hoteled them, though, and Brin honestly didn’t know if there was a laundry service for the sheets down here. He didn’t know why anyone would use these, to be honest. If you were wealthy enough to afford the Tower’s tuition, he didn’t see how you couldn’t get a room in town. Maybe for those staying up late to study it would be nice not to have to go ho.
Last was a nice little office with a sign-up sheet, scheduling ti with the codex. There was also a form to fill out for requests for the [Arcanist] on staff. From the looks of things, he would get to you eventually, but you might end up waiting several months for an answer. Brin decided not to make any requests until he found a need for a word that Lumina didn’t already know.
He had a bit longer to peruse the Circle’s library. He intended to look for so interesting spells, but there was one book about the amplification effects of mirrors on magical light that imdiately drew him in. He read through three chapters before realizing his ti was up and he needed to get to his next class. It would still be there when he got back.
The class on the Language was by far the most interesting one of the day. The teacher was a breathy, airy woman who sat legs crossed on a pillow in the middle of the circle and didn’t open her eyes even as the students filed in.
When they’d all taken their seats, she spoke without preamble. “The Language is the living intersection of consciousness and the living universe. Made up of the multitude of vibrations operating at different frequencies and wild-varied directions, from the small and gentle whirring of a single atom to the violent and raging storms of colliding galaxies, all of it is seen and moved and summoned into being by the observations of you, , and the great ones above us, not neglecting those below us. A rock, a tree, a leaf, all observing while being observed. So let us start there. A rock. and us, the observer, . Who can chart a course between these two concepts? Like a ship’s captain, we’ll use geotry to chart our course. Tell first, by how many degrees is changed when we follow its sin wave for two steps?”
It sounded like nonsense at first, but the Language was resonating with her words, and he could feel his comprehension expanding, ever so slightly. When she narrowed down to the actual mathematical proofs, he could tell they were well-reasoned and complete, but he just had to trust her for the rest of it.
The gentle, rhythmic flow of her lecture was only occasionally interrupted by one of the students calling out an answer to one of her questions. It was like listening to a math lesson by soone with an ASMR voice, and every ti she paused and a different voice interrupted the flow it was like waking up from a dream.
He might have been a little too confident in his Language skills before. He knew a lot of words, but the way [Mages] used mathematical concepts to match the relations between words wasn’t sothing he had a lot of practice in. He didn’t care what this school thought–he was taking notes, jotting them all down in his log.
And then classes were done. He’d made it one more day. Only, his day wasn’t over. Hogg had said that after class was when the real learning started. He could go visit another Circle now, since the ones attached to the main Tracks weren’t as secretive as the Circle of Illusions.
The first choice was fire, obviously. He needed to learn to burn stuff good. But he had sothing more urgent for tonight. He chose the other thing he had in mind, and soon found himself knocking on the door to the Mind horoom that the Master of Magic had pointed out yesterday.
Martin was a plain-faced man. He didn’t seem friendly or threatening, but perhaps a bit bored. If he’d seed friendly, it would’ve imdiately put Brin’s back up. He thought he would be able to detect ntal Manipulation from any source, but he wasn’t going to risk his mind on that. The fact that Martin seed completely normal was within acceptable limits.
Not to say there wasn’t any ntal Manipulation at all. Brin could clearly feel that he was being prevented by looking anywhere around the room or noticing anyone else in there. It was a reasonable precaution, since he hoped that sa privacy would apply to him, but he wasn’t leaving it in place even a second after he left this room.
“Young Lord Mistaken,” Martin said, not pretending to be surprised in the least to see Brin there. “How can I help you?”
“I want to talk about [Terrifying].”
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