Chapter 34: The Books He Needed

Chapter 34: The Books He Needed

Silas woke hungry enough to consider the soup beside his bed.

He lifted the lid, smelled it, and put the lid back. Apparently there were limits.

The terminal said it was nearly ten. He had slept through the evening, most of the night, and the delivery reminder that had eventually given up on him. His mouth hurt when he yawned, though the tooth Gareth had loosened stayed where it belonged when he cautiously tested it with his tongue.

He ordered porridge and eggs, then checked his schedule while the water heated.

Nothing compulsory today. There was a lecture on mana circulation available remotely, a notice about next week’s written work, and an old commission inquiry he had forgotten to answer. He closed the last one.

Breakfast arrived before he finished washing. He took it to the comfortable chair and ate slowly, favoring the other side of his mouth. Someone outside was calling for a missing practice shield. After a while, somebody else shouted that it was underneath the first person’s coat.

Silas scraped the last of the porridge from the bowl.

I could stay here all day.

He had been doing almost exactly that for weeks, but usually with somebody’s fragile equipment suspended over his desk and a calculation running through his head. Today he watched a patch of sunlight move across the floor until he became bored enough to get up.

His temporary Talent was still there.

[Burst Motion — B / Rare]

[Assimilation: 0%]

He cleared a space between the rug and the kitchenette. The rug itself went against the bed; he had caught a heel on its edge before and preferred to avoid explaining that particular injury to Kerr.

The first problem was deciding how little mana to use.

Remote Grasp had given him objects to watch. Burst Motion involved his own legs, and standing still while preparing to launch himself made every part of him reluctant to cooperate. He set one foot ahead of the other and fed the Talent a cautious amount.

His rear leg drove him forward. He took one large step, discovered he needed another, and caught the counter with both hands.

Pain tugged through his calf.

"Shit."

He remained there until he was sure it was only a pull. The counter had stopped him comfortably enough. His jaw, arriving an instant later, had come much too close to its edge.

Smaller. A lot smaller.

Silas moved back, this time leaving more room ahead. He reduced the mana until he could barely distinguish the Talent’s response from an ordinary push off the floor. That attempt carried him less than a pace. His leading foot landed crookedly, but he stayed upright.

He tried again after a rest. The movement was quick enough to please him, right up to the awkward hop at the end.

He could see the attraction. Half a pace could have saved him considerable pain against Alden. Unfortunately, half a pace followed by falling on his face would have helped Alden just as much.

After a few attempts, his calf began to tighten. He stopped, fetched water, and settled at the desk with his leg stretched out. The Talent could wait while he found out how people were supposed to survive owning it.

The academy’s study catalogue was less helpful than he had hoped.

A search for movement techniques produced three advanced texts, a thesis he could not access, and a beginner’s manual whose opening Chapter assumed healthy mana channels. He opened the manual anyway, read two pages, then followed a reference to a book on physical reinforcement.

That one assumed he already understood Core development.

Silas leaned back and stared at the screen.

He had spent a great deal of time learning to put thread through a needle. Apparently there were other subjects.

By lunch, he had a list of books and a much less pleasant list of examination topics. The original Silas’s memories supplied familiar terms without reliably supplying what they meant. Recognizing a diagram did not help him label it.

He downloaded the syllabus and worked through the first available lecture. When his attention wandered, he paused it instead of pretending to listen. Outside, the shield dispute had been replaced by someone practicing scales on an instrument he hoped they would soon abandon.

The next morning, he attended Ferrow’s scheduled session. She took one look at his mouth, asked whether he had received medical instructions, and kept him to the gentler work on his existing program. He complied without argument. Even he could tell that arguing to do more exercise would be a ridiculous use of the morning.

Afterward, he went to the infirmary for the promised check on his tooth, then crossed to the library while he was already out.

He had expected the entrance to be quiet. Two students were disputing an overdue return at the service desk, and a cart of books squeaked loudly enough that everyone nearby looked up when it passed. He waited beside a display of expedition journals and read the title of one twice.

The place named on the cover had been a small gate icon in Crownless Requiem. Here, somebody had written four volumes about it.

When the desk cleared, Silas showed the clerk his list.

"Which edition of the Core text?" she asked.

"The one used for the first-year examination."

She checked his course details. "Second floor. The revised diagrams are in the current edition. Don’t take the older blue one unless you borrow the corrections with it."

"And the mission regulations?" Silas asked.

"Current version on your account. We have a printed reference copy, but that stays here."

He thanked her before remembering that he usually made an effort not to. The clerk was already helping the next student.

Upstairs, he found three editions of the Core book, two shelves on circulation, and a student asleep with his forehead on a map. Silas took the current text to a table and opened it beside the reinforcement manual.

The first useful illustration showed the flat inner structure of a Rank One Core, with its curved tracks and single ring. The following pages explained why forcing more mana through that ring was not sufficient to advance. Saturation had to remain stable while the body adapted to the change.

Silas went back to the reinforcement diagram. Several of the warnings suddenly made sense.

He wrote down a question for Kerr rather than trying the exercise seated in a public library.

The mission reference was worse for his mood. Required credits occupied their own section. Passing written examinations would not excuse him from practical evaluations, and a good practical score would not replace the required field work.

Of course it wouldn’t.

He copied the relevant requirements and checked the examples against an atlas.

Ormont occupied a modest patch among territories he had mostly remembered by their rulers and boss encounters. The map showed transport routes, inhabited districts, and long stretches where marked roads ended. Some gates had settlements built around them. Others were reachable only by routes with Frontier Association notices attached.

He had assumed the gate ratings were academy classifications. The reference credited the Association, with local authorities responsible for enforcement and access. He followed that entry to a page on exploration licenses, then realized he had been reading for nearly an hour.

His legs were stiff when he stood. He borrowed the Core text and an introductory geography volume, saved the current mission rules to his slate, and left the more ambitious reading for another day.

Back in his room, he put the books beside his chair. The geography volume was heavier than it looked. He would use Remote Grasp to bring it down next time.

After lunch and a rest, he tried Burst Motion again. This time he set his landing foot where it could take his weight before asking the Talent for speed. The burst remained very small. He stopped without hopping, though his shoulders continued forward and made the whole thing look rather foolish.

Silas repeated it once, slowly, then sat down before his calf began complaining.

He wanted the quicker version. He also wanted to walk to the bathroom later without assistance.

The Core book fell open at the diagram he had marked. Silas pulled his notebook closer and began with the labels he still could not remember.

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