Sam tapped his foot impatiently, his eyes locked on the library door. It had been over ten minutes since Martha had left without explanation, simply ordering him to stay put. He took a deep breath. It’s fine, he thought to himself, No need to get mad. She’s your boss, Sam, you agreed to this. If she wants you to stare at a door for an hour, you do it.

He sighed, the action calming his knee-jerk frustration at being told what to do. I wonder what job she needs me for. It can’t be something directly library-related or she’d just tell me. Maybe something magic related? But she’s probably the best caster in town, what would she need me for?

His musings were interrupted by Martha’s return, with a girl about Sam’s age in tow. Dressed in a simple chemise, her brown hair was tied up in a bun behind her head. Sam squinted. Do I know her? She looks familiar.

“Oh Gods,” the girl said, “It’s you.”

“Rhea!” Martha yelled, flicking the girl’s large forehead, “Be nice! He’s the best one to teach you!” With a quick gesture, the librarian used her cane to hook a small wicker chair from next to the door, dragging it over to in front of Sam’s desk. “Sit!” She said, pointing.

Obediently, Rhea sat, smoothing out her dress and regarding Sam with a wary eye.

“Now,” Martha said, “I am going to leave, and go buy some bread from your father. While I’m gone, the two of you will be polite. Sam, you are going to respectfully teach Rhea how to use magic, and Rhea, you are going to respectfully learn from him. Am I understood?”

Sam mumbled an affirmation, while Rhea tilted her chin in what could generously be described as a nod.

“I said,” Martha repeated, turning the force of her gaze onto the pair, “Am I understood?”

Sam’s spine straightened reflexively, well-worn instincts opening his mouth and saying “Yes ma’am” before his mind had a chance to catch up. After a moment, following Sam’s lead, Rhea said the same, albeit with less enthusiasm.

“That’s what I thought,” the elderly woman said, turning to leave. “You kids have fun now.”

The door shut behind her, echoed by a faint click.

“Did she just lock the door? Unbelievable.” Rhea put her head in her hands. “I really wasn’t expecting that she’d pawn me off onto you when I asked for lessons on magic.”

Sam remained quiet. Come on, figure it out, figure it out. Where do I know her from? Does she come here often?

After nearly a minute of silence, Rhea finally looked up and sighed. “You don’t have to pretend you remember me. I won’t tell.”

He let out a breath of relief, then cocked his head curiously. “How did you know?”

“You haven’t remembered my name any of the other times. I’ve given up on expecting anything from you.” She sighed again. “Can we just get to magic? If we at least make an attempt, I can tell Ms. Martha that it’s not working out and get her to teach me instead.”

The [Scholar] shrugged. “Fine by me. Show me your skills so I know what I’m working with.”

Rhea narrowed her eyes. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not. I don’t have any of the magic skills, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Really?” He asked, “None? Not even, like, Basic Non-attributed?”

She scowled. “No. I don’t know how to work mana at all.”

Sam blinked, extending an invisible tendril of non-attributed mana towards her.

You have cast Basic Appraisal! You have gained experience in the Medium Divination Magic dynamic skill! Name: Rhea Race: Human Affiliation: None Class: Assistant Baker Level: 24/4 Class History: Worker Attributes: STR 18 SPD 17 END 18 INT 10 WIL 11 Highest Dynamic Skill: Medium Baking Lv. 4

Sam took a deep breath. “The first thing, in that case, the most basic, foundational thing you have to understand is mana itself. Do you know what it is?”

Hesitantly, the girl nodded. “It’s made from thinking, right?”

Sam held his hand up in front of his shoulder, tilting it back and forth. “Kind of. You’re a, uh, baker, right? Imagine that thoughts are… yeast and sugar. They interact, bump into each other, form new thoughts, make up who you are and how you act. Instead of producing air to make bread, those thoughts make mana, which we use to create spells.”

Rhea nodded, realization dawning on her. “Oh, that makes sense, actually. So the more thoughts you have, and the faster you have them, the more mana you get? Which is why intelligence is such an important stat…”

He nodded. “Right. So to manipulate mana, you just have to tap into that byproduct of thinking.” He stood up and started pacing, walking from shelf to shelf. “Once you figure out how to tap into your mana, it's a constant presence. Normally, mana is vented naturally at about the same rate as you make it, but you want to be able to open and close that vent. Ah! Here!” He grabbed a book off a shelf, brandishing it like a flag.

Rhea squinted, trying to read the title off the cover. “Meditation for Meatheads?”

The boy grinned. “You’ll have to read it in depth, later, but for now, I know just the exercise.” He opened the book, his hands flipping deftly through the pages, finally settingling on a short, page-long diagram, annotated with various arrows and quick lines of text. “This one.”

“‘The aim of this exercise is to increase your awareness of your own mana by causing it to overflow, producing more than can be bled off without active effort.’” Rhea read, “‘Simply pick a task that requires thought and concentration. This author suggests reading a difficult book, though others have had success at attempting to solve puzzles or counting grains of sand. As your mind fatigues, continue on, and your mana should become increasingly obvious. This is a harmless process, but,’” She paused and looked up at Sam, eagerly holding the book out. “Can you move your thumb? You’re blocking part of the page.”

He retracted his arm, hastily shutting the book. “You’ve got the gist of it. It’s pretty simple. I can talk you through it.” He placed the book on his desk, just out of Rhea’s reach, then walked over to another shelf, muttering inaudibly.

The girl fell quiet and looked at him carefully. “I think this might be the most I’ve heard you say at once. Why don’t you talk like this more?”

Distracted by his search, he shrugged. “I just like magic, I guess. Here we go.” He grabbed a book off the bottom of the shelf, hoisting it with both arms. “This,” he said in between breaths, “Is a terrible book. Should be hard enough to read.” He dropped the book in front of Rhea, the impact shaking loose dust from the cover. “Get started.”

A short few minutes later, Rhea looked up from the book, rubbing her forehead. “Can I take a break? This is giving me a headache.”

Sam, sitting in front of her with a parchment journal, leaned back and sighed. “Another bust,” he murmured. “Sorry, what did you say?”

The girl leaned forward, craning her neck over the desk and looking at the drawings in the journal. “Why are you reading about beards?” She asked, her nose wrinkling in confusion.

Sam ran his hand over his chin, feeling the short, stiff hairs emerging. “I need to learn how to shave,” he said, trailing off, “Maybe… but no, hm. Maybe…”

“Shave?” She said, a note of disbelief in her voice, “Why don’t you just ask your dad?”

The [Scholar]’s attention snapped back to her, his back straightening and his eyes suddenly locking onto her. “What? Uh, no.” He shook his head. “Why aren’t you reading?”

She blushed, then looked down, reading off the page. “‘The widdershins circumvolution of the trifold cordage facilitates the coagulation of…’” She trailed off, looking back up at Sam expectantly. “What does this even mean?”

He grimaced. “That’s one of the most comprehensive guides to dark magic I’ve found. It’s all technically correct, though misleading and, obviously, poorly written. That part is describing a tier 4 spell.” He held his hand parallel to the floor, quickly lifting it up, tendrils of dark attribute mana twisting themselves together into a visible, foot long spike sticking straight up.

You have cast Shadow Spike! You have gained experience in the Medium Dark Magic dynamic skill!

Rather than being impressed, Rhea narrowed her eyes. “You can cast tier 4 spells? Is that normal?” She asked, “How long have you been using magic?”

He coughed. “Don’t worry about that. I just showed you so you could figure out what the book was talking about. Keep trying to parse it, you’re getting close.”

The [Assistant Baker] cocked her head. “How do you know?”

Sam shook his head in response. “You’ll see in a bit.”

Unconvinced, Rhea shrugged and returned to her reading, her brow becoming increasingly furrowed as she struggled to get through the pages.

After another fifteen minutes, Rhea grabbed at her head and fell off her chair.

“Oh Gods,” she groaned, “I feel bloated.

Sam leapt to his feet, stepping quickly around the desk and kneeling next to her. “Good work,” he said, “Now, take that bloated feeling and push it out.”

She groaned again. “It’s not working!” She grabbed at him, her fingers catching on his shirt. “Sam, it’s hurting me!”

He brushed her fingers away. “Stop panicking, you’ll be fine. Just grab it and push.” He gestured with both hands, helpfully demonstrating the action.

With several agonized grunts, Rhea finally got a hold of her mana, ejecting it from her head in a misty cloud of invisible vapor. She got up slowly, massaging her forehead and glaring at the smugly grinning [Scholar], who had returned to his seat.

He opened his arms widely. “Welcome,” he said, pausing for drama, “To the wonderful world of magic!”

At some point in her ordeal, her hair had shaken loose from its bun, and she tried to gather the loose hairs hanging over her face. “You knew that would happen!” She accused, pointing her finger at his face.

Bemused, Sam shrugged. “Yes, and? Would it have helped you if I had warned you? Or would you have gotten worried about the pain and been too scared to actually do it?”

She stood there, her mouth opening and closing, before crossing her arms and sitting down. “I think I liked you better when you didn’t say anything,” she huffed.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he replied dryly, “Now, the next part-”

“Crap, Sam,” Rhea said, interrupting him, “I didn’t mean-”

“Hm?” The [Scholar] looked at her, “Sorry, did you say something?”

Uncertainly, the girl hesitated. “Um. No.”

Giving her a strange look, Sam continued. “The next parts of casting a spell are, in order, conversion and shaping. You gather mana, you change its type, you shape it, and release it into a spell. Anything in particular you want to try for your first spell?”

“Um.” She said, “What are the types, again? I don’t really remember.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but responded, counting them off on his fingers. “Fire, Ice, Lightning, Air, and Soil are the Elemental magics. Space, Time, Gravity, Light, and Dark make up the Higher Elemental school, and then you have non-attributed and Command schools, which follow slightly different rules. I recommend starting with one of the Elemental subschools.”

Rhea thought for a moment, then spoke decisively. “Fire, then. It seems the most useful. What do I need to do?”

Sam tilted his head approvingly. “Good choice. First step is gathering your mana. You can feel it now, right? Like a vase filled with water? Pour some of the water onto your palm.”

After a moment of thinking, Rhea nodded. “It’s… disorienting. It’s like I have a new arm, or something.” She held her hand out in front of her, her eyebrows tenting in concentration. “It’s cold!”

Sam closed his eyes and cocked his head. “Yeah, it’s there. As you practice more, you’ll be able to sense both your own and outside mana more intuitively, but your brain is just telling you that it's cold because it doesn’t know how else to process it. Maybe add a little more, but now you need to charge it with the fire attribute. Different people have different mental shortcuts. Some use emotions, some use images. Try thinking about your experiences with fire.” He paused. “Whatever you-”

“Ah!” Rhea exclaimed, “I did it!” She clasped her hands together, laughing. “It’s trying to escape!”

Sam cocked his head again, surprised. “You actually did. That was fast. Is it because you’re a baker? You’re used to working with heat?” He mumbled to himself, nodding slightly, then shook his head to refocus on her. “Okay. Now you have two options. You can either release it, let it turn into a mass of mana-fire on its own, or you can shape it to make a real spell.” Without waiting for a response, he continued. “Fire mana is wild and difficult to control, so you need to create a channel for it, a nozzle that limits and directs the spell. Make it small, to start.”

She nodded, then concentrated on the mana in her hands, her fingers wiggling as she tried to shape it. After nearly thirty seconds of silence, she let out a breath, and a small jet of flame shot from her hand out into the air.

With a laugh, she jumped up. “I got a prompt!” Reaching over the desk, she hugged Sam. “I just got the ‘Basic Elemental Magic’ skill! It went straight up to three, too!”

Bemused, Sam awkwardly patted her back. “Congratulations,” he said, “Why did you even want to learn magic?”

She disengaged from the hug, still smiling broadly. “My current class is [Assistant Baker], so I should be able to get [Baker] next. If I start learning magic now, I might be able to unlock a variant after that.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding, “Yeah, makes sense. Well, if you need any more help, let me know.”

She looked at him curiously. “You don’t have to offer, you know. I know you hate all of the other kids in town.”

He cocked his head. “Why would you think that?”

Rhea gave him a skeptical look. “Are you saying you don’t? You never talk to anyone, you don’t come to our parties, nothing. I’ve seen you maybe once a year since we graduated after picking our classes.”

He sighed, then stood up, opening his arms wide to gesture at the entire library. “What can a bunch of kids teach me that this treasure trove can’t? Can whatshername from the smithy tell me how to alter time? Can that tailor kid tell me what changes at level 200 to make someone go from mortal to divine? Why would I waste my time seeking out parties that I had no way of knowing were happening?”

The girl looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “Then why did you offer to teach me more magic?” She asked, her voice quiet.

He sat back down, then shrugged, a hint of exhaustion in the movement. “I don’t know, Rhea,” he said, “I just like magic.”

The awkward moment of silence was broken by Martha pushing the door open, struggling under the weight of a large paper bag. “Be a dear and help me with this, will you, Sam?”

He jumped up and hurried over, grabbing the bag out of her hands. He dropped it on top of his desk, walking back over to ease her down into a chair. She sighed in relief, rubbing at her knees. “That’s it,” she said, “Next point I get is going straight into endurance.”

Sam frowned. “You should have been spreading them out from the start. I worry about you and your body, sometimes.”

The old woman waved her hand dismissively. “Bah. Fretting about point distribution is a young person’s problem. I’ll do what I want.”

Sam’s protest was cut short by Rhea bursting into laughter.

“Sorry, sorry,” She said, “The two of you sound like my dad and grandma.” She stood up, brushing down the front of her dress. “I think I’ll leave you to it,” she grinned, “I’ve learned a lot today, Sam, thank you.” She walked towards the door, turning just before she left the building. “By the way,” she said, “Did you know Brie is learning how to forge magic items? I heard she’s gotten some new materials, but isn’t sure how best to use them, yet. And by coincidence, I think she’s hosting a small get-together this weekend. I’ll let her know you’re coming, kay?”

She pulled the door shut behind her, ending the discussion with a thud.

Sam sighed, and shot an accusing glance at Martha. “I hope you realize,” he said, “this is all your fault.”

She beamed. “Oh yes.”