Mother of Learning. Arc 3 Incomplete

Zorian opened his mouth to tell her that ‘Kirielle’ was also a stupid name when he thought better of it. For one thing, it was best to reserve immature bickering with her when they were alone. For another he had just thought up a much more amusing and diabolical idea.

«Want to meet her?» Zorian asked.

«What?» Kirielle asked.

«Novelty. Want to meet her?»

Kirielle stayed silent, mulling it over. «I don’t know. I don’t like spiders. They’re disgusting.»

«Well okay,» Zorian shrugged. «I just figured you’d jump at the chance to meet with a member of a reclusive race of magical creatures that very few humans can boast speaking to. Once in a lifetime opportunity and all that. But I guess I understand—»

«Umm, well…» Kirielle fumbled. «Actually, I changed my mind. She’s not going to try to touch me, is she?»

Of course she was going to try and touch her. Novelty wanted to touch everything. By her own admission she once stuck one of her legs into an open flame in order to see what would happen.

«I’m sure she’ll keep her distance if you ask politely,» Zorian told her.

How he kept a straight face after telling her that he’d never know. Sometimes he surprised even himself.

The conversation continued for a while after that, but eventually began to peter out. Ilsa and Taiven excused themselves and left, while Kirielle amused herself with trying to teach Kana how to draw. Of course, unlike Kirielle, Kana was a typical child with age-appropriate (that is to say, appalling) drawing aptitude, but neither Kirielle nor Kana seemed discouraged by that. Zorian excused himself and went to his room to see if he could get some work done before Kirielle came looking for him.

It was not to be, though — barely a minute after he had sat on his bed Kael showed up and knocked on the doorframe to get his attention.

«Am I interrupting something?» he asked.

«No, I was just considering what to do with myself. Did you need something?» asked Zorian.

«Sort of,» said Kael. «I just came to tell you that you don’t have to dance around the issue of your mind magic any more. I already figured out you’re not just an empath.»

«Kirielle told you, didn’t she?» Zorian sighed.

«Not so much told me as gave me enough clues to figure it out. She’s a chatty kid. But there is no need to be angry at her, it’s not like I’m going to turn on you just because you’re learning how to read people’s thoughts.»

«Thanks,» Zorian said. «Although quite frankly, it would be kind of hypocritical of you to shun me for dabbling in forbidden magics, mister junior necromancer.»

Kael immediately flinched back in shock and gave him a wide-eyed look. «W-What!? There is no way…»

Zorian gestured him to quiet down and Kael immediately shut up and peered down the corridor to make sure no one had been listening. Zorian knew they hadn’t been, he could feel that all of the other residents were still back in the kitchen. His scrutiny done, Kael quickly stepped into the room and closed the door, leaning heavily on it.

«How?» he asked. He sounded more panicked than menacing at the moment, but Zorian knew that could change at any moment if he didn’t get a satisfactory answer.

«Do you know the ‘arcane lock’ spell?» Zorian asked.

«I… yes,» Kael said, still sounding rather dazed.

«Lock the door, then, and I’ll make sure we’re safe from any stray divinations,» Zorian said, and immediately started casting a temporary divination ward at the room. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it would ward off simple scrying attempts and hopefully notify him if anything more complex targeted them. Not that he really thought they would need it, but it was good practice and you could never be careful enough.

5 minutes later the room was as secure as Zorian could make it on such quick notice and Kael looked increasingly impatient. Zorian decided to get on with it. He opened his mouth and began to speak.

«Let me tell you a story of lost time and a month that refuses to end…»

Unpaid teenage labor was an age-old tradition among mages. While the ancient apprentice system had largely been replaced with specialized magical academies, and the quality of young mages had improved drastically as a consequence, there were some things that simply couldn’t be learned in the classroom. For things like that, a mage needed a mentor — someone to show them the tricks of the trade, teach them unique skills and spells they had developed and did not share lightly with others, or just plain connect them with the right people. Said mentors usually had plenty of work they considered beneath them, ideally of a sort that took advantage of their student’s magical ability and prepared them for their future vocation.

Ideally.