3rd of Fructidor, 1535

University of Ursulaburg

“Good morning students—” the Professor wrote his name across the board and allowed his students to respond.

“—Good morning Professor Wilhelm Arnault,” a modest portion of the classroom responded.

“Welcome to Applied Signomancy, for those who found themselves in the wrong class I’ll allow you your exit.”

A third of the students exited the room. Signomancy studies shared the same building with physics and astronomy classes; it was common enough to find yourself in the wrong room at the start of term. Professor Arnault, at one-hundred and ninety centimeters tall, towered over everyone in the classroom. He was in his mid-to-late fifties, with dark brown skin, and had white hair that was quickly invading his sideburns and beard. Adhering to the dress code, Professor Arnault wore his suit and tie well. One side effect of being a prolific signomancer was that his sleeves were routinely covered in a thin layer of white and green chalk dust.

“Alright, a quick refresher. I hope you all didn’t lose any information during the summer months. What are the three factors that influence a Signum symbol's strength?”

A silence was shared amongst the students.

“That wasn’t rhetorical. I do want to see what you have retained. I need to know how much I have to backtrack if Professor Cunningham’s introductory course was unsubstantial. Right or wrong answers are welcome—along with a brief explanation.”

One brave student shot his hand up. “Size,” he stated, “As a symbol gets bigger or smaller, its power scales with it.”

“Size, correct. How does the power scale? And do all symbols scale the same way?”

A feminine voice spoke up, “Power scales linearly for all symbols.”

“Excellent. That covers the first influence—what are the other two?”

“Soul!” A blonde student shouted the word that had spontaneously come to their mind in a flash, “The amount of energy you pour from your body can make a symbol stronger.”

“Soul,” Professor Arnault wrote the second word on the board, “We as humans, can only input an equivalent amount of soul energy relative to a symbol’s size. Big energy, big symbol—small energy, small symbol. Bemerogs, and certain goblins, have been observed being able to input more or less energy into their symbols to generate a multitude of effects.”

A hand sprang up, “What would be the utility of putting less energy into a large signum symbol?”

“Wonderful question, I can already think of one recent application. The new hothouses that were just built in the northern part of Urusulaburg have massive panels engraved with symbols for heat. Instead of subjecting vulnerable plants to large bursts of heat, the system allows for an equal distribution of moderate heat along a wider area.”

A second hand sprung up, “What about soul stones?”

The minor conversations among the students quieted at the mention of the topic. A look of concern washed over Professor Arnault’s face. This was a topic he’d prefer not to broach, but he still had a duty to educate.

“Soul stones,” the professor tapped his fingers on the table in front of the chalkboard. “Soul stones are a resource not to be taken lightly. The souls of animals, or even people, are harvested and then condensed into a red, glassy rock through a process that is still unknown to most people. Breaking one and then putting its influence into a symbol will cause its power to scale exponentially, instead of linearly. It goes without saying that possession of such a resource, in Morrigan, is illegal. The production and distribution are punishable by death.”

“Are soul stones and philosopher stones the same thing?”

“Yes, they are identical. The usage of “philosopher” was meant to spin the stones in a more positive light. Politicians and certain personnel in the military wished to repeal the ban on them, but King Aethelstan wouldn’t have it. You’ll still hear the word used by people who still advocate for their decriminalization.”

Professor Arnault reached for another piece of chalk. He tried to steer the class away from the uncomfortable topic, “Alright, size and soul. What’s the last influencer?”

“Skew.” Cecil, a meek but calculating young man spoke up. “Skews refers to how much variance a symbol can undergo before it becomes inert.”

“Excellent, and skew—”

“—If our symbol in question was a simple set of perpendicular lines. It’s correct, one hundred percent effective as a set of perpendicular lines. If you attempt to replicate it, the angles within the symbol must be accurate to within ten degrees—meaning this second symbol can have two angles at one hundred degrees and two angles at eighty degrees. This second symbol becomes significantly weaker than what it would’ve been if the angles were perfect ninety-degree angles. If the angles were to exceed a skew of ten degrees, then the symbol becomes inert regardless of how much energy is forced into it. Skew also affects curves and circles differently as…there are formulas…for each,” The boy slowly stopped talking once he realized that just about everyone in the room had shifted focus toward him.

“Ah-well, stellar explanation. That precise effect that skew has on Signomancy is why we always preach on the proper usage of your tools. Never forget the three most important tools: the ruler, the protractor, and the compass.”

Cecil sank in his seat. He wanted to evaporate and become utter nothingness for the next forty-five minutes. The hundred-plus eyeballs staring at him felt like little knives pricking into his skin. While a choir of pencils gliding across paper filled the air, Cecil only tapped on his notebook as professor Arnault lectured. Much of this information was remedial to him but very welcomed by everyone else.

The professor turned toward the class and asked one last question. “There is one more influence, but this one doesn’t begin with an “s” and it affects two or more symbols. What is it?”

Cecil’s nubby fingers slid down his desk. He wanted to answer. Desperately he wanted to, but his mouth had run dry. Were people already looking at him? “Conjunction! Conjunction!” the words screamed in his mind. It was so clear. But his voice refused to cooperate with him.

“No one? Alright, it’s conjunction.”

Cecil balled up his fists and shook in his seat. “I knew it,” he thought.

Professor Arnault explained the process behind linking two Signum symbols together to create new effects. He also explained how “diagram” or “equation” was the proper words used for describing two or more linked symbols. As the minutes flew by, Cecil only bothered to write about five sentences worth of information—all about applications that the professor had offhandedly mentioned. Once the fifty-minute class was over, from the bell tower across the courtyard, the unmistakable first notes to the university’s alma mater rang out.

Cecil waited in his seat as the seventy or so students shuffled out of the classroom. Cecil tried to psyche himself up so he could speak with professor Arnault. As Cecil finished packing up his notebook, the professor called out to him.

“Mr. Tankersley, I presume?”

Cecil’s courage vanished and he wanted to retreat inside himself.

“Uh-uh-uh, yes,” Cecil stammered.

“Good to meet you, son,” Wilhelm extended out his hand, “Nigel’s description of you and your aptitude for signomancy was spot on.”

“Oh-yeah, I spent most of last year in his office grading work and asking him questions.”

Professor Arnault laughed, “I could tell, you certainly know your stuff. I look forward to some of your input during class.”

Cecil shuttered, that was the last thing he wanted, to be intentionally called upon during class.

“Nigel and I are sharing an office this year. I was about to head back, care to walk with me?”

Cecil nodded, his nodding became more emphatic as he saw the first few students for the next class start shuffling in. Cecil and Wilhelm strode down the long hallways of the University. A plethora of students marched to their classes, Cecil was thankful he’d only have to deal with this mountain of people for a little while, even at the University of Ursulaburg, attendance dwindled as the academic year went on.

The summer had been kind to the university, the building Cecil and Professor Arnault were walking through had been completed about two months ago. The red oak floor was polished to perfection and the brickwork on the walls was nothing short of masterful. It gave Cecil a small sense of importance for getting to experience the building in its prime.

“So-um, Professor Arnault—”

“—Please call me Wilhelm,”

“R-right, so um pr-Wilhelm, do you mind if I ask since it’s your first year teaching here where did you teach before?”

“This is my first year teaching at all. I worked adjacent to the Pemalian military for most of my life before I wanted to see the rest of the world. I offered my services to the church of Careena for a while, and then I ended up working for a hunting group called the Red Wolves.”

“Those are the people that stopped the Butcher of Blackburn Hollow, right?” Cecil asked.

“The very same.”

“Wow, so what made you want to leave the Red Wolves?”

“All freelance hunting companies are doomed to fall apart. Red Wolves were no different.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It is what it is, but don’t feel bad. I intend to bring some of them up here. Since I teach Applied Signomancy, I feel having hunters explain their stories and which symbols have been practical in their everyday lives would prove beneficial.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet them.”

After a few minutes, they traveled down a corridor that led to all the physics, astronomy, and signomancy faculty offices. Cecil looked in awe at how big Professor Arnault’s and Schröder’s joint office was. Two of the walls were lined with massive chalkboards; they even had a cabinet stocked with orichalcum chalk of the finest variety. To his surprise, the bookshelves around the room were empty. He nudged his ankle against a small pile of crates—that’s where he discovered all the yet-to-be-sorted textbooks and scientific journals.

Wilhelm’s desk was bare as well except for the latest edition of the Soulwriter’s Index, the most comprehensive text on the correct forms of many known Signum symbols. All this reading material was worth its weight in gold to Cecil, but he knew it paled in comparison to the knowledge the Bemerogs had. They were centuries ahead of humans when it came to Signomancy research; some rumors even stated that each Bemerog is born with the innate knowledge of one specific symbol.

“Wilhelm? Is it noon already? I’ve lost track of time this morning has been so—Cecil my boy!” Professor Nigel Schröder rounded the corner of the wall that only partially bisected the room.

His slicked-back black hair was the only part of his body not covered in a fine layer of chalk dust. Cecil had never found the correct adjective for Nigel’s eyes, they were somewhere between blue and silver.

The two teachers greeted each other and then Nigel turned to Cecil. “Well now, everything feels right as it should be,” Nigel remarked, “Would you still be able to help me out with grading tests this semester.”

“Of course sir.”

“That’s what I love to hear. Now I’ve got something you might enjoy hearing too?”

“What’s that?” Cecil looked perplexed.

“There have been some developments about a project I’ve been working on.”

“The project you were working on since last year?”

“I’ve technically been working on this project for the better part of a decade dear boy, but this summer-this summer at the conferences in Ansgard, miraculous things happened.”

“Like what exactly?”

“I’m one step closer to proving the Aeon’s Equation Conjecture.”

“Ah, this again,” Wilhelm remarked folding his arms.

“Pay him no mind, follow me and make your own conclusions, Cecil.”

Nigel led Cecil to one of the fresh chalkboards. He took a piece of plain chalk and began his explanation. “At the conference, one scientist presented his findings that large portions of far-off space objects are redshifted. You know what that means right?”

“Redshift,” Cecil repeated. He pictured his physics notebook vividly and began to flip through the pages in his mind. “They’re moving away from the observer?”

“Exactly. The universe is expanding.”

“Fascinating,” Cecil remarked as he marveled over Nigel’s rendition of the universe. Nigel then punctuated his drawing by slamming his piece of chalk at the center.

“Cecil, if space expands outward like an ever-increasing sphere, logic dictates that it was once all much closer together. I mean much closer—as in all in one spot. A centralized explosion that kicked off a massive chain reaction that created the universe as we know it.”

“Is that true professor, could everything have come from one spot?”

“More research is needed, this notion of a centralized explosion started at the conference, not from an actual presentation. But the consensus leans towards it being highly plausible.”

Cecil stared at the board for a few moments, “But…”

Nigel perked up when Cecil formed his question.

“If it all started in one spot…why did it start in one spot? Did the spot always exists…or did it not exist at first? What started this?”

Nigel almost jumped for joy. “I knew you would ask these questions. You’re too smart to just accept things as they are. I know. I have an answer! Aeon.”

“Aeon?”

“Aeon was the primordial god, a being far stronger than all the known gods put together. Old accounts state that Aeon split himself apart and created the greater cosmos. But I believe he did much more than that. I believe he wrote an equation.”

“What kind?”

“An equation that governs everything. Physics, astronomy, chemistry, biology, anything you can think of is connected by a massive conjunction of symbols.”

The gravity of that statement made Cecil tremble. “Do you-do you believe something like that could exist?”

“I truly believe so. There has to be an underlying framework for all of science. Why things are the way they are, a purpose for mechanics and actions of all things. This is what I’ve been researching. I feel like I’m getting closer by the day.”

Cecil stumbled with his words, “C-could-could I help you?”

“I wouldn’t impose a task this big on a student. Your studies are far too important.”

“If I can finish grading tests fast enough between classes, could I lend a hand from time to time?”

Nigel chuckled, “You are ever persistent.”

“I-I’m sorry, forget I asked—”

“—that’s not a slight against you, Cecil. It’s an admirable trait in a scientist and scholar.” Nigel tapped at the table in the center of the room. “Well, if you want to be a part of this project. Then I’ll tell you my goals. To discover Aeon’s equation, I need to be able to travel through space or time.”

“Tra-travel through space or time,” Cecil’s voice gave out partway through. Very softly he asked, “Is-is that possible.”

“My thought process is this: either I travel through time to the origin of this celestial explosion and discover the equation there, or I travel through space to the center of the universe—that seems to be the best location for the equation to be.”

Wilhelm spoke up, “Both are impossible.”

Nigel pulled out ten small sheets of paper from his pants pocket, “I’ve narrowed down my search to ten possible symbols. Each of these needs to be conjoined with other symbols, but I know one of these ten will get the job done.”

Nigel looked back at his apprentice. “Cecil, of all the students that have come and gone from my classes, you are the sharpest. Of all the students who have ever passed through the university, you have the best aptitude for signomancy. With your help, we could find Aeon’s equation. Imagine all the knowledge we could bring back with us, we’d know everything, think how much science would advance. Your name would be etched into history. Your accomplishments would overshadow any of your older siblings,” Nigel put his hand on Cecil’s shoulder, “I’m sure your mother would be very proud.”

“...You really think so?”

“Oh, I know so.”

“Alright then, I’ll do my best.”

Nigel smiled and patted Cecil’s shoulder, “That’s all I could ever ask—” Professor Schröder’s focus shifted to the clock on the opposite wall to the chalkboards. “My word, I have business off-campus and I need to get going now if I don’t want to be late. Cecil, come by tomorrow and I will have a schedule set aside for you when I’ll be in and out of the office during the semester. I look forward to great things happening.” Nigel picked up the small leather briefcase that sat beside his desk and hurried out of the office.

Wilhelm stood by Cecil’s side. “Is there any value in knowing everything, and never being able to discover again?”

The question fell on deaf ears as Cecil stared at the chalkboard, fixated on the single point in Nigel’s rendition of the universe.