Chapter 16: Chapter 15 - Reasons to Stay

Fidgeting and sighs were the only sounds in the room. There’d been a few attempts at conversation since he arrived, but none had continued for more than a handful of sentences. Everyone was caught up thinking about the Hands-on training. They were supposed to get their results today, but Templar Roose was running late.

Cliff looked around the room, gauging the feelings of his classmates. Teams C and D had both finished the training with little incident, so they looked bored more than anything else. His own team had barely made it in time, but they’d still beaten the deadline, so they would probably be alright – he had the slightest worry that he had, actually, bungled recording their magic exposure, but he was almost certain it wasn’t his fault. Team A, though – he clicked his tongue as he watched them, adding to the choir of tapping fingers and bouncing toes – Jenna and Percy seemed all kinds of stressed, and Deb looked like she hadn’t slept a wink since the Training. Surprisingly, Penny seemed the most put-together, in spite of her being the one who was actually injured in the fight. He’d asked her about it at lunch, and she’d confessed that she shock of having her arm broken had left the memories of the attack fuzzy. It was probably for the better.

He’d gone to the library the day before, researching the Blink Boar with Thalos. The description alone got him shivering – full grown Blink Boars were as tall as horses but twice as thick. Their tusks could pierce steel, and they were strong enough to knock mid-sized trail trolleys onto their sides. Plus, of course, they could teleport. The range was limited, and they couldn’t do it frequently, but once was enough to catch almost anything off guard, goring or crushing everything in their path. He clicked his tongue again, wondering what would have happened if his team had run into one of those beasts. The Blink Boar that had attacked Team A was only a juvenile about the size of a mastiff, but they’d still only managed to drive it off out of sheer, dumb luck. Its instinct had probably told it to flee after Jenna’s lucky hit, and that was maybe the only thing that spared their lives.

The door of the classroom slammed open, and Roose burst inside, his cassock fluttering noisily, a pile of papers clutched in his hands. “Afternoon, everybody-” he started, planting himself behind the lectern, “I apologize for my lateness. Paperwork, you see – I was behind last week, and that was before our training bore its bureaucratic rewards.” He looked around the room, smiling easily. “Now, I know you’re all eager to hear the results of the first Hands-on Training, but while I have your full attention, I’d like to go over a few things.” Cliff sighed, and next to him, Loria shifted in her seat anxiously. Though he wasn’t overly concerned about whether they’d passed, he knew she was the type to have convinced herself they’d somehow screwed up along the way.

“First of all, many of you may have noticed that we we did not place a particular focus on combat in the time leading up to the Hands-on. This has been standard of Courier courses for many years, as your first training in the field is supposed to be safe enough that your PMT classes would suffice for training. This year, however, the area was unexpectedly high in monster activity, and every team reported many encounters with monsters.” Cliff frowned – they had run into more monsters than he expected, but he figured that was just because he wasn’t used to trekking through the wilderness. “That’s not to mention Team A’s run-in with a Blink Boar – and we do have visual confirmation that there was, in fact, a Blink Boar active in the area.”

A hand shot up, and Roose pointed a finger. “Why were the monsters so much more active this year?” a member of team C asked.

“Good question, Cal,” Roose said, “and one that I can’t give you a sure answer for. The working theory is that the Blink Boar’s movements through the area scared a lot of the weaker ones out of hiding – and into your paths, but we’re not sure. It could be that, or-” his smile faded for just an instant, “it could be something else.” He glanced around the room, waiting for any other questions, but when no other hands popped up, he continued. “As I was saying, the monsters were active, and as a result I feel as if I may have underprepared you for your training. From next year, we’ll be looking into tweaking the curriculum to add in more practical team combat earlier on, but for this year, all I can do is apologize and thank Gaeon there was no permanent damage.” Everyone seemed to glance at Penny, but it was true that she looked completely healthy, and, as far as Cliff knew, there were no lasting effects from the break in her arm.

“This leads me to my next point. From now until our next Hands-on Training, we will be putting a significant focus on combat. We’ll be sparring weekly with members of the other colleges, as they have also begun to work on small-scale tactics. Additionally, we will be studying common monster types and how to fight them. Finally, I’ll be dedicating a three-hour block every weekend to reserve sparring fields for you and your teams to get combat feedback from me and whoever I bring around with me.” Mixed feelings bubbled at that one. Cliff knew he needed to practice more to improve his combat skills, but using his PMT was an exercise in frustration, and without his PMT, he felt like a lamed horse next to his teammates. As it was, he was not exactly looking forward to sparring with the cadets and seminarians. He would only make a fool of himself.

“Finally,” Roose said, not sparing a moment for questions, “I’ve been approached by a few professors who want to sign some of you on as apprentices – it’s not particularly common for first year students to be chosen, but, well, some of you are not particularly common.” He smiled around the room. “If you’re approached by an instructor asking if you want to be their apprentice, make sure you get the sign-up form and bring it to me – we’ll have a chat.” Immediately Cliff thought of Paolo. The engineering club’s advisor had asked if Cliff wanted to help out in his research, but he didn’t know if that meant he would actually be the magepriest’s apprentice.

“Now.” Roose grabbed the sheaf of papers from the lectern, fanning out four packets. “Without further prelude, the results of our Hands-on Training.” He moved between the tables, handing each team one of the packets. “I’ll spare you the suspense,” he continued, “every team passed, and-”

“What?” Deb cried, standing up from her team’s table, “What do you mean, everybody passed. We – I-”

Roose raised a hand to cut her off. “You were put in an unexpected situation, and you followed procedure exactly as we’d explained in the morning. Sure, we knocked a few points off your score, but we could hardly fail you.”

“But because of me, Penny-” Deb looked over at her teammate, her expression pained. “I made a wrong decision and – well, my team shouldn’t fail, but I certainly should.” She looked frantic, almost panicked at the thought that she wouldn’t be punished for her own perceived misstep. It was a far-cry from Deb’s normal intelligent confidence, and it left a sour taste in Cliff’s mouth.

“Perhaps we should talk about this later?” Roose offered gently, “after class?”

Her eyes widened in sudden awareness. “Ah – yeah,” Deb said, looking around the room with embarrassment, “right, I’ll – well, later, then.” She coughed to herself, sitting back down, where Penny wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Right,” Roose said, “well, take a look at the packets. We’ll be spending the rest of the class going over the results in depth and exchanging notes on our combat experiences. I want to say again that I’m more than satisfied with how all of you performed, but of course, there’s always room for improvement.”

***

“How can I help you, Cliff?” Roose asked when Cliff walked back into the classroom, “Not satisfied with your team’s score?” He’d waited for Deb to finish her conversation with their instructor before returning to the room. It had been a shorter conversation than he expected, and she didn’t look especially satisfied walking out. He might have chatted with her if she hadn’t looked like she wanted to do anything besides talk.

“No, the scores were about as I expected.” They’d earned the second lowest grade, barely eking out a win over team A. Most of their lost points had come from their slow completion time, but they’d lost a few more from ‘minor damage to the package’. Thalos suspected the damage was from when he dove out of the way during their fight with the Flash Frost Toad. “Though I was interested to see that we got full points for our magical exposure rating.” Roose gestured at a seat across from his desk, and Cliff took it with a nod.

“Oh?” Roose asked, his eyes searching, “you’re surprised you got full points – is this a confession, then?” The question wasn’t serious, Cliff knew, but there was an edge to Roose’s voice that gave him pause.

“Nothing like that,” Cliff replied, “I recorded the numbers exactly as I saw them, every hour, on the hour. It’s just – well, looking at those numbers, you don’t need my Gift to notice that something doesn’t quite add up.” Roose raised his eyebrows, gesturing for Cliff to continue. “The numbers are too high. And if you didn’t knock our points down, it probably means everyone’s readings were too high, or our machine was simply malfunctioning.” He paused, frowning slightly. “Was our machine malfunctioning?”

Roose shook his head, and Cliff nodded. “Right, then, since our machine was working without a hitch, the problem is probably with the maps. It would explain why the Blink Boar showed up, too – more magic in the air means stronger monsters.” He looked at Roose, who continued to remain silent. “Am I right?”

Roose hummed for a moment, tapping his pen on the table. “You’re halfway there, I’d say.”

Cliff thought a bit more about the numbers not lining up and what they’d been told in class. “But you didn’t say anything today about the maps – I’m almost certain you would have, if only to ease Deb’s guilt a little. So, there’s got to be another explanation.” He furrowed his brow. “The maps weren’t wrong? It was something else?”

Roose grinned wryly. “Half right, again.” Cliff glared at him, and he shrugged. “Those maps were accurate as of last year, and magic doesn’t change overnight. But, just to be safe, I had the area surveyed a few days before our Hands-on Training.”

“And?”

“And the maps were accurate,” Roose said.

Cliff’s eyes widened. “What? But that doesn’t – why did the Blink Boar show up? Why were there so many Monsters? The readings – why were they high? Is it possible for magic levels to fluctuate like that?”

Roose shrugged again. “Possible? Sure. We don’t really understand where magic comes from, outside of a religious point of view, but stranger things have happened. Likely? Well, I’ll just say that after combing every source I could get my hands on for this type of fluctuation, I couldn’t find another example. Minor shifts over years, yeah, but such a drastic change over a few hours? It’s unheard of.”

Cliff leaned back in his chair, scratching at his head. “Well what does that mean?”

“It means that you all are lucky to have witnessed an unprecedented natural phenomenon – lucky in the sense that it was unlikely, not that it was good fortune,” he said, “or-” His voice trailed off.

“Or there’s some other explanation,” Cliff finished with a frown, wondering what that could possibly mean.

There was a long moment of silence as Cliff mulled over the information, until Roose finally spoke again. “But that concern is above your pay grade, so to speak,” he said, “I didn’t bring it up in class, and I’d ask you not go spreading around whatever theories you come up with.” Cliff grinned. There went his plans of concocting conspiracy theories with the rest of the scholarship kids.

“Why’d you tell me then?” he asked.

Roose shrugged. “Call it instinct. You were curious enough to come talk to me, and I figured this sort of thing would interest you. Plus, you’re smart, and you probably would have put it together on your own eventually.”

Cliff laughed sardonically. “I’ll take the compliment, though I wish my supposed ‘smartness’ would have been more useful in the Hands-on.”

“Oh? You got full points for the engineering task, didn’t you?” Roose said, leaning forward.

Cliff clicked his tongue. “I can read a number on a magetool, sure, but I was near useless in combat.” They’d gone over every monster encounter of the day – nearly all of them ended with Nym or Loria smashing the monster with their weapon.

“You managed to kill a Flash Frost Toad, correct?” Roose said, “That’s no small accomplishment, especially considering your PMT limitations.”

“You mean the time I disobeyed our commander to take the kill for myself?” In truth, Loria had a point, and he probably would have followed her command if he hadn’t felt so darned useless at the time. He’d really wanted to actually do something beyond watching Nym and Loria take care of all the hard work. Thalos had seemed mostly unaffected by their apparent uselessness, but it had weighed on Cliff. He regretted projecting his anger at himself onto Loria – it was a high-stress situation, running into that rock slide, and he’d been out of line to use it for a short-sighted jab. He coughed awkwardly, looking away from Roose’s probing eyes. “No, but – I’m not used to being so, well, powerless. Back home, everyone relied on me. My momma and my poppa, they used to line up things for me to do – I didn’t have enough time in a day! But now, well-” He grimaced. “It’s hard trying to compare to Nym and Loria, when they’re so damned good at fighting.”

Roose studied him for a long moment before replying. “How’s your PMT training going, then? Better, I hope.”

Cliff sighed. “It’s going better, yeah, but, well my poppa used to say – falling in a pile of mud is better than falling in a pile of crap, but that doesn’t mean it feels good.” He grabbed at his neck, working some stiffness out with his palm. “Yeah, it’s going better, but it sure isn’t going well.”

Roose laughed. “Lieutenant Ulster said you’re improving quicker than he expected – he said you’ve got most of the basic functions down, with some caveats.”

“Yeah, I can use them, as long as I keep myself distracted,” Cliff replied, “It’s annoying, but the second I focus on what I’m doing with my PMT, my Gift spins my mind off in all sorts of directions that ruin whatever I’m doing. I can use the simple, single-function nodes well enough, but the more general-use ones-” He winced, shaking his head. “they basically require focus on the task, so I’m not sure what I’ll do.”

A thoughtful look came to Roose’s face. “I might have something that can help you, there, but I’ll have to get back to you.”

Cliff blinked, surprised – the way Lieutenant Ulster spoke, he thought his was a unique problem from his Gift, and he’d have to find a solution for himself. “Sure, I’d be grateful for anything that could help.”

“No promises, but I’ll see what I can do,” Roose said, jotting a quick note onto a slip of paper on his desk. “I take it you’ve decided you don’t want to transfer, then?”

“Do I want to?” Cliff echoed, shaking his head. “Of course not, no – I want to become a Courier. What I’m wondering right now is not what I want to do, but what I should do.”

“A much harder question, I’d say,” Roose replied.

“What do you think? Should I transfer?” It was a risky question to ask. He wasn’t sure how he would react if Roose told him he should transfer. He was pretty sure the Templar didn’t hate him, so he could probably trust his advice was coming from a good place. And if that was his advice, maybe Roose was exactly the person to tell him.

“Should you transfer?” Roose said, “that’s a hard one.” He sighed. “You know, Cliff, you’re a young man with a unique talent for engineering. I have no doubt, if you should transfer to the Crestfall Academy of Engineering, you’d be very successful. But they’d raise you to be an engineer of their standards. The military, the clergy, and even an engineering college, they’ll try to file away any imperfections and blemishes until you resemble their ideal. Unfortunately, uniqueness is often lost along the way.”

“That’s an odd thing for a Magepriest to say.”

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“My clothes may be of the clergy, but I was a Courier for fifteen years.” He grinned. “Let’s just say I still remember why I became a Courier.”

“And why’s that?”

“The freedom, the fulfillment, the fact that the Union doesn’t brush away unique talents, but polishes them. If you transferred, I have no doubt you’d be an amazing engineer, but if you stay, I think you’ll be a unique one. The life of a Courier gives you so many experiences offered nowhere else, and with your ingenuity and talents, I see a lot of potential in your future.”

“Even If I can’t use a PMT?”

Roose chuckled. “We’ll call that the first hurdle to boundless possibilities.”

The advice tumbled around Cliff’s brain. It was encouraging, really – he’d been having trouble finding the motivation to keep pushing, but Roose’s support might be the remedy he needed. “Well, let’s hope I can make you proud, yeah?”

“Cliff, you’re one of my beloved students!” Roose said, “Of course I’ll be proud of you!”

Cliff shook his head, and a thought occurred to him. “If you’re so sympathetic to the Couriers, why’d you leave and join the Church? I thought they were natural enemies.”

Some of the joy seemed to fade from Roose’s face, replaced by old hurt. “That’s another story, and you’ve already taken up enough of my time.” He rose from his desk, ushering Cliff out of the classroom. “Come on – I’ve got a dinner date with Dr. Harkin, plus an appointment with a certain magical survey team.”

***

Cliff tightened the bolt, snipping the excess filament and taking a moment to study the old Magetool lockpick. He flipped the thing around in his hand, examining the innards of the little cube for a moment before nodding with satisfaction.

“Cliff? What are you doing?” Iona asked, staring over his shoulder down at the Magetool he was tinkering with. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“I think it’s an old project from one of the alumni,” Cliff said, quickly fastening the cube’s faceplate back on. He gave it a jiggle to test if it was secure before handing it over to the girl. “It’s a Magetool lockpick. Paolo showed it to me on my first day. A few fixes have been bouncing around in my mind since then, and, now that we’re not preoccupied with the tests, I figured I could actually implement them.” Since finishing the tests on the Iona Cart, the club had shifted to individual projects. Iona herself had started working on a sewing machine.

She eyed him curiously before looking down at the Magetool. “And Paolo approved that?” She rolled it over in her hand, prodding at the spindly protrusion sticking out from one side. “Does it work now?”

Cliff shrugged. “Maybe – I haven’t tested it myself, and I don’t really plan to. I can tell you it won’t break every lock you stick it in now that I’ve tweaked the power circuitry and replaced the Prime Stone with a weaker one.” He could see, at least in an abstract sense, what the original engineer was going for – in practice, though, you might as well take a sledgehammer to the lock as use the magetool before Cliff tweaked it.

“You don’t plan on testing it?” Iona said incredulously, “Then why even bother working on it?” She handed it back to him, following behind him as he put it back on its shelf.

“Like I said, I thought I could fix it – its nice to use my hands, unlike in my basic engineering class, and it kills the time.” His eyes drifted across the other half-complete, half-working projects that dotted the shelves in the Engineering club’s workshop, but nothing caught his attention.

“Don’t you have your own project to work on?” Ioan asked with a frown.

Cliff looked at her. “Why? Do you need help?”

“What? No, it’s just – well, you know, the rest of the club, Paolo, and I – we’re interested in what you could make.” She looked at him with intensity. “There’s got to be something you want to build.”

He thought about it for a moment, scratching at his head. “You know, I’ve never really actually built anything – I mean, I’ve fixed stuff, tweaked stuff, and tinkered with stuff, but to build something from scratch?” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“What do you mean you’ve never built anything? How did you learn about engineering, then? Didn’t your parents start you off on, like, basic light circuits, or a simple heater?” She seemed genuinely confused.

Cliff laughed. “Of course not. What, you think we had the spare resources to supply my hobby on the farm? Engineering’s expensive, you know – all the practice I got was fixing up old lights and making sure our old tractor kept running – how would you even go about thinking up a project?”

She waved a hand in the air, flustered. “What do you mean how do you – you think of something you want to do, you design it, and then you build it!”

Cliff hummed to himself. “So you want to be able to sew things?”

“I can sew things,” she said, prodding him in the chest with a finger, “I just want to be able to do it faster – you wouldn’t believe how many tears I get in my work clothes.” She looked down at her shirt, tugging at a few spots that had obviously been sewn over.

“Oh, I get it,” Cliff said, “My momma used to give me hell every time I came back with a mucked up shirt.” He paused to think. “You know, maybe I should make her a new sewing machine – or Moira, my sister, she might like one too.” Moira was an absolute clutz with a needle, and Cliff usually ended up patching up her clothes, but she might find it easier to use a machine. “Can you show me your design?”

“Sure I can, but-” She shook her head. “That’s not the point. What do you want to make?”

Cliff shrugged. “Like I said – I wouldn’t know the first place to start.”

She glared at him for a moment before seizing him by the sleeve, dragging him to the front of the workshop where Paolo was talking to a couple of the other club members.

“Paolo,” she snapped, “Cliff doesn’t have a project to work on. Help him think of one.”

The magepriest looked over at them, startled by Iona’s intensity. He glanced between the two of them in confusion, but after a quick explanation from Iona, he was chuckling to himself. “So you can’t think of anything to do?” he asked, “Nothing you want to build?”

Cliff shook his head. “Not really, no – I think I’m a bit more suited to fixing up other designs, you know, like finding problems in the Iona cart.” That one earned him a punch to the ribs.

“Come now,” Paolo said, “there’s got to be something you want to do. Think back – has there ever been a time where you wished you had a tool or something to make a task easier?”

Cliff hummed to himself, searching his memories. There were dozens of farm chores he was responsible for, of course, but most of those weren’t all that easy to automate, or they would require magetools far outside of the scope he could build in the workshop. A few others, though-

“I’ve got it,” he said with a snap of his fingers.

“Well?” Paolo asked expectantly.

Cliff raised a hand in front of him, wiggling his fingers. “A magic hand.”

Paolo blinked. “What?”

“You mean like a PMT?” Iona added.

Cliff shook his head. “No, not a PMT.” He was stressed enough about PMTs without trying to manufacture one in the club. “So – back on the farm, some mornings I would have to wake up and gather the eggs, milk the cows, stuff like that, you know? Well, I hate waking up, so I used to imagine I could detach my hands and have them go do the work while I just stayed in bed.”

“You want to-” Iona glanced at Paolo. “detach your hand?”

“Obviously not,” Cliff said with a chuckle, “but, what about a Magetool shaped like a hand that can perfectly copy your movements?”

Iona’s brows furrowed, and Paolo looked suddenly thoughtful. “I wouldn’t even know where to start with that,” she said.

“You’d have to sense the movement of each finger and transmit that to the imitation hand – so you’d have to build a glove covered in sensors,” Paolo offered.

“Plus you’d need to be able to send feedback,” Cliff added, “to make sure you don’t crack the egg.” He clicked his tongue. “Transmission might be difficult – wired would be easier, but remote would be far more useful.” He’d heard of some remote controlled magetools, though he’d have to do some research on how they actually worked.

“That’s – a lot,” Iona said.

Cliff shrugged. “You asked me to think up a design, and so I decided on this – the magic hand? Cliff’s handy dandy hand? – I’ll work on the name later.”

Iona frowned. “Stupid names aside – you really think you can build that?”

“I don’t want to hear anything from Ms. ‘Iona Cart’,” Cliff said, shrugging, “and maybe – I probably won’t know until I start putting a pen to paper and actually designing the thing.”

“I, for one, am interested in what you can make,” Paolo said, “It sounds ambitious, but a little ambition never hurt anyone. You want any help getting started?”

“What?” Cliff asked. By this point, he was hardly listening, his mind too full of slapping together a preliminary design. “No, I think – wait, is there any paper around? And a pen, I need to write some of these things down to get a better look at it.”

“Ooh, now I’m getting excited,” Iona said, “I’ll get the paper, Paolo, you grab him a pen.”

“That’s Brother Paolo,” the Magepriest said as he dashed off to find a writing implement for Cliff.

***

Cliff wiggled his fingers, staring down at them, contemplating their movement. “Cliff, are you paying attention?” Paolo asked.

“What?” Cliff looked up. “No, sorry – I was-”

“Thinking about your magic hand, I know. But – come on, Cliff, It’s not every day a first year student gets invited to look at my research. All my assistants are third years, you know,” Paolo said with mock offense.

“Sorry, I know,” Cliff replied sheepishly, “It’s just – once I get thinking about something, it’s hard for me to stop.”

Paolo nodded. “A focused mind is a good thing, but for now, I’d like you to direct your focus at this.” He gestured beside him at a table, upon which were half a dozen piles of paper forming a semi-circle around what looked to be a stone spike with a metal orb on the end.

Cliff furrowed his brows, reaching towards the odd spike. “What is it?”

Paolo grabbed Cliff’s wrist, stopping him before he could touch the thing. “Don’t touch it, Cliff – Hierophant’s orders, only I’m allowed to touch it.”

Cliff’s eyes widened. “The Hierophant? Then, it’s-”

“The artifact I’ve been researching, the one that lowers the magic level in an area,” Paolo said with a grin.

Cliff leaned forward, studying the thing closer. Now that he knew what it was, he wanted to grab it and study every bit of it, but he didn’t want to risk Paolo’s anger, let alone the Hierophant’s. “How does it work?” Despite his closer study, he could see nothing remarkable about the artifact – no matter where he looked, it was just a plain stone spike with a rough iron ball attached at the end.

Paolo scooped it up in his hands – it was about the size of his forearm, but it didn’t appear to be particularly heavy, the way he was carrying it. “It’s simple enough,” he explained, “you stick the spike in the ground and twist the orb. It’ll lower the magic level in an area around the spike – the deeper you put the spike in the ground, the more it lowers the magic, and the more you twist the orb, the larger the area. It’s remarkable, if rather imprecise.”

“No, I mean – that’s what it does, but how does it work? What do the internals look like, what means does it use to lower the magic level?” Cliff asked.

Paolo’s grin faded slightly. “That’s the rub, isnt it? This artifact is part of a large collection that was the product of Saint Euphrasia, from about five hundred years ago. Her Gift allowed her to embed the Gifts of others into objects. Some other Natural at the time must have had the ability to lower ambient magic, so she took his gift, shoved it into this spike, and the artifact was created.”

“That’s it?” Cliff asked incredulously, “there’s nothing inside the stone or the metal?”

“Not as far as we can tell,” Paolo said, “though we haven’t actually tried cracking it open – and no, I’m not permitted to do that.” He shrugged. “It’s part of the downside of working with the Church’s artifacts. Before Magetools, anything capable of doing actual magic was the product of somebody’s Gift - and Gifts are nothing if not inconsistent.”

“If there’s no explanation for how it actually works, how do you expect to copy its functions?” Cliff asked, trying to think of where to even start for a problem like that.

Paolo set the artifact back on the table. “It’s been a lot of trial and error - and I mean a lot. I’ve had the spike for four years, and we’ve finally – finally got the beginnings of a design.” He turned to Cliff, his expression almost predatory. “Interested?”

“Of course!” Cliff said.

“Okay, I’ll show you,” Paolo said, reaching towards the leftmost pile of paper. He paused halfway though, grinning at Cliff. “One condition though - you’ve got to sign on to be my apprentice.”

“Oh, that’s your game? Lure me in with magetool designs?” Cliff asked with a frown.

“Come on, Cliff – this is my prized research! I can’t let just anyone in on the process.” Paolo said. “Well? What do you say?”

“Fine,” Cliff said, “I’ll do it – wait.” He glared at the Magepriest. “I’m not going to have to wake up early for this, am I?”

Paolo’s eyes widened. “What? No - of course not! I do most of my research in the evening - well, or on weekends, but no mornings.”

“I’ll do it, then,” Cliff said with an emphatic nod. He rubbed his palms together eagerly. “Roose said something about a signup form, but that can wait until after you’ve shown me this design.”

***

There were about five different things on Cliff’s mind as they walked back to the dorms after their PMT class. “So Dr. Harkin asked you to be his apprentice?” Thalos said, sounding impressed, “that’s two of us, then.” The current busyness of his mind had served him well enough during the class. He’d finally – finally – been cleared to use the basic set of nodes, and the constant ideas dancing in the back of his head, about transferring and magetool designs, played a big role in keeping him distracted enough to properly use his PMT. When trying to have a conversation, though, it was a bit less helpful. He felt a sudden smack to his shoulder. “Cliff, did you hear Percy?” Thalos asked.

Cliff blinked as a half-formed idea of a how to configure the finger joints on his magic hand faded away. “Huh? No, sorry – what was that, Percy?”

“Just wondering if you’ve had your chat with Templar Roose,” Percy said with a self-conscious smile.

“Ah, no,” Cliff replied. He’d gotten the form from Paolo three days before, but he had yet to bring it to Roose. “What about you?”

“I was thinking of going during lunch today,” Percy said, “want to come with?”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Cliff replied with a grin. He studied Percy for a moment, a thoughtful expression coming to his face.

“What is it?” Percy asked, noticing the look. “Something on my face?”

Cliff shook his head. “Nothing like that. Just thinking that it’s odd – since we got here, I’ve been thinking of us scholarship kids as the underdogs, but here we are – two of us have been invited to apprentice under the instructors.” He shrugged. “It’s an odd coincidence, that’s all.”

Percy scratched at his head. “I don’t think anyone is surprised that you got asked to be an apprentice – any engineer has to be salivating to make use of your talents. Me, though-” He shrugged. “I still don’t really understand why Dr. Harkin asked me.”

“Come on, Percy, don’t be so humble,” Thalos said, glaring at their friend. “Your scores are at the top of our medicine class, and you’re the only one who manages to keep the color in your face when he starts reading off the more gruesome descriptions. Plus-” His eyes flicked to Deb. “it sounds like you were pretty on top of things when you guys got attacked by the Blink Boar, and you know what Dr. Harkin always says-” Percy joined in quoting their teacher. “In medicine, composure is the most important thing.” It must have been some mantra of Dr. Harkin’s.

Percy smiled awkwardly. “I guess that makes sense – though I can hardly take credit for my composure. You help deliver enough calves, nothing will send your stomach tumbling.” Cliff shuddered. Though he and Percy had similar backgrounds, he’d managed to avoid most of the more gruesome bits of farming.

“Say, Cliff-” Deb said, speaking for the first time since they’d left Lieutenant Ulster’s class, “Did you tell your mentor – Brother Paolo, right? Did you tell him you might be transferring?”

“No,” Cliff replied with a frown, “Do you think I should have?” He studied Deb. A few days removed from the Hands-on, she was looking much better. She was still a little quieter than normal, and she seemed to always have this distracted look about her, but it wasn’t affecting her performance in class, and her mood seemed to be mostly recovered.

Deb pulled her lips to one side, tilting her head. “Maybe – I mean, I’m sure he’d want to know, right?”

Cliff hummed to himself. “I guess – but, well, that feels like giving up somehow, you know? I don’t even really want to entertain the idea of transferring, and telling Paolo, that’d just give it credence.”

“I see,” Deb replied. Suddenly, her expression turned unsure. “Say, Cliff, do you think – do you think Lieutenant Ulster would extend the same offer to transfer to me, if I asked?” At once, they stopped walking, turning to Deb with shock. She looked around in panic. “I – I just want to consider my options.”

“Is this about the Hands-on?” Percy asked with exasperation, “I thought we already told you – it’s not your fault.” He hammered each word, but Deb looked unconvinced.

She shook her head. “I know you guys are just saying that to make me feel better. I mean, if it’s not my fault, whose is it?”

“Whose fault is- It’s no one’s fault!” Percy cried, “or it’s the Blink Boar’s, or it’s Templar Roose’s, for not preparing us. But it’s not yours!”

“Penny could have died, Percy!” Deb yelled back, “What would I have done then? Would it still not be my fault? I’m just – I don’t know why you all chose me to be the commander, I’m not cut out for it.” There were tears in her eyes, and Cliff realized he had grossly misjudged how much she’d recovered from the incident in the Hands-on.

“If you think any of the rest of us would have done a better job with command-” He shook his head angrily. “I don’t even know what to say. We knew we might run into monsters we were unprepared for when we charted a path through the higher level areas. We made a plan for that, and you followed the plan exactly – what more could we ask for?”

“A commander who doesn’t make a mistake that nearly costs Penny’s life the first time she’s given command!” Deb cried.

“It wasn’t a mistake!” Percy yelled, “Why can’t you see that! Don’t be an idiot!”

Cliff stepped between them, cutting off the argument. “Let’s take a deep breath, you two. There’s no need to throw around names like that.”

“You’re right, Cliff, but – maybe you can get through to her, because I clearly can’t,” Percy growled, looking away.

Cliff sighed. “Honestly, in a way, she’s right-” Percy whirled to glare at him, and Cliff raised a hand. “Now, hold on – you both are. It was a mistake to try to fight the Blink Boar, even if you had made a plan. Roose said it, clear as day, in class – the most important thing when dealing with monsters is information – some of the deadliest monsters look completely unassuming.” Cliff paused. “’course, he told us that after the Hands-on, so we can hardly be blamed for not knowing.” He turned to look at Deb. “there’s all kinds of mistakes you can make, and this one, well – you ever seen a young kid do something that most have the common sense not to? Is it a mistake to try to pet a hissing cat? Yeah, probably – should we blame the kid for doing it?” He shrugged. “Probably not, right? Well, we’re veritable infants when it comes to this Courier business, so I think most are willing to forgive this one, no matter how egregious it seems to you.”

Deb looked unconvinced. “But, even so, I-”

“Hey Percy,” Cliff said, cutting her off, “do you still trust Deb to be your commander.”

“Yes,” Percy said immediately.

“There we go,” Cliff said with an emphatic nod, “if they didn’t trust you, well maybe you should start thinking about whether you’re still fit to be commander. But they do, so I think you should stop taking that trust so lightly.”

Deb looked between Cliff and Percy, conflict on her face. Finally, she sighed deeply. “Fine,” she said, “I guess I won’t ask Lieutenant Ulster about transferring – but that’s only if Jenna and Penny still trust me too!”

“Simple as that,” Cliff said with a nod. He wrapped his arms around their necks and started dragging them along. “Now come on, it’s lunch time.” He glanced behind him. “You coming, Thalos?”

“Right behind you,” his roommate said. Cliff grinned. If he did end up having to transfer, he was going to miss these guys.