Mother of Learning. Arc 3 Incomplete

«That, but you also have to consider things from the perspective of the spell’s maker,» Kirithishli said. «It’s a lot more prestigious and profitable to make a 1st circle spell than a 0th circle one. So they almost never classify a spell as anything less than 1st circle, and the guild allows them to get away with it, probably for the very reason you stated. A determined person could probably get the guild to lower the classification on a lot of those spells, but you’d make a lot of enemies, especially the spell crafter interest groups. It would be a thankless task, and you’d constantly have to watch out for people trying to roll back the changes.»

Zorian digested this information in silence. He had no intention of involving himself in such high-level politics, of course, either in the time loop or outside of it. If there was one thing his parents had driven into his skull with their endless sermons, it was that his strengths did not lie in that area. Granted, that probably wasn’t what those sermons were designed to do, but that wasn’t his problem. Still, things like these were useful to know. He’d have to prod Kirithishli for more stories in the future.

When Kirithishli told him to go home, Zorian was all too happy to oblige her. It had been a long (and boring) day, what with the regular classes, his session with Xvim, and working in the library, and all he really wanted was to go back to Imaya’s place and relax. Sadly, it was not to be, because the moment he stepped out of the library he was accosted by a shady-looking man that had been waiting for him just outside the entrance.

Well, maybe ‘accosted’ was a too strong of a word — technically, the man in question was just leaning on a pillar next to the entrance, not blocking his path or even speaking to him. Nonetheless, the moment the man glanced up and their eyes met, Zorian knew the man had been waiting for him, and him alone. Middle aged, dressed in a cheap, rumpled suit and unshaven, he almost looked like one of Cyoria’s many homeless people, but there was a confidence in his posture that didn’t fit that image.

He halted in his tracks instantly, and an uneasy silence descended on the scene as they both analyzed one another. Zorian had no idea who the man was or what he wanted to do with him, but he wasn’t inclined to be charitable. He had not forgotten the way he was assassinated in one of the initial restarts, and had no wish to repeat the experience.

«Zorian Kazinski?» the man finally asked.

«That’s me,» confirmed Zorian. He didn’t think lying would work, and it would be better to have a confrontation close to the library than to get ambushed in an empty street on the way home.

«Detective Haslush Ikzeteri, Cyoria’s police department,» the man said. «Ilsa sent me to be your divination instructor.»

Zorian didn’t know what to say. Ilsa picked a detective as his instructor? So much for his idea of talking his new divination instructor into teaching him the restricted divination skills he needed to actually investigate this time loop business. Why did it have to be law enforcement, of all things?

«That’s great,» Zorian said flatly. «I was wondering when Ilsa would find someone.»

If his lack of enthusiasm bothered the man any, he didn’t show it. He turned and walked away, gesturing Zorian to follow after him.

«Come on, kid, let’s go find a tavern to sit in,» he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

Oh yes, a tavern — the perfect learning environment. Gods, not only was the man a detective, he was unprofessional as well. His unkempt appearance sort of suggested it right from the start, but Zorian always tried to not judge too harshly on appearances alone — too many people did it to him, and he always found it very annoying.

His thoughts must have been more visible in his demeanor than he thought they were, because the man quickly started to justify himself.

«Come now, don’t look at me like that,» the man said. «It’s not like we’ll be doing anything too serious today. It’s been a long day for both of us, I think — you’re tired, I’m tired, we don’t know each other, and we’ll accomplish nothing if we just jump straight into lessons right away. Hell, maybe we’ll decide we don’t like each other and call this whole thing off. So today, we’re just going to share a drink and talk.»

Okay, so maybe Haslush was smarter and more capable than Zorian gave him credit for. He had to stop judging people so quickly. Though…

«I don’t drink alcohol,» Zorian warned.

Haslush gave him a curious look. «Religious taboo?»