Books were arguably my favourite things, right on par with delicious food, but I could not eat indefinitely. Thus, books remained my most cherished leisure activity. A captivating story or a book on mystical subjects could keep my hunger at bay for hours.
Though so ti had passed since I brought ho the thirty-odd books, the urge to devour them all was still as strong. I wanted nothing more than to speed-read, moving from one book to the other as fast as I could, but that might cause to overlook so important things. I forced myself to read slowly, lingering over every word to truly digest them.
For the first few days, I carried a book everywhere—the dining table, the playground, and almost even to the loo. It wasn’t until Mum caught reading hours past midnight instead of sleeping that she imposed her tyrannical house rules.
I was allowed to have a book at the dining table sotis, but reading after bedti was strictly forbidden.
History had its value, but stories held a special place in my heart. The culture of the realm encouraged people to publish their life stories. When fa was directly involved with the mystical essence, it was really easy to make literature rich and abundant. Of course, embellishnt and artistic liberties were inevitable. Many dismissed them as phoney, but I found them enchanting, enhancing the reading experience.
It was endearing to read about soone like Emil Thorgen, who had risen from humble beginnings to beco a living Hero of the Alberan Empire.
Resting the crimson leaf where I left off in the book, I turned to my journal for this week’s entry. Supposedly, the leaves of an elder tree had alchemical uses, but I found them perfect as bookmarks.
After so failure, I found daily journaling was not for . So days, nothing interesting happened for to note, while at other tis, I was too overwheld to record anything. Ultimately, I negotiated with myself to make it a weekly thing.
My penmanship had improved significantly over the past year. Rather than a conventional, elaborate style, I had chosen straight, compact lettering, the font small enough that one had to squint to read. I could squeeze two pages’ worth of content onto one, and no, it wasn’t out of desperation for not having enough notebooks.
Mum spared no expense on my education, even if she wasn’t entirely convinced about my other training. Like my current practice of writing with my left hand. She probably wouldn’t object, given that I had seen her engraving runes with both palms. She likely felt all this was too much for my tender bones.
It took nearly an hour to fill just a couple of pages about my new swordsmanship regin with the wrong hand. Still, I didn’t stop until, at last, the Spell revealed itself.
[A new Way is accessible: Ambi-dexterity I (1/100)]
“Finally!” I exhaled in relief, and then felt a headache building, thinking about completing the Way. I could do the sa writing in re minutes with my other palm. Hmm, I wonder if I could improve Ambi-dexterity through sword practice.
Probably—but I would have to start from scratch.
For the first week, Father had us repeat Whispering Gale in shadow practice and mock battles without introducing anything new. Only when he deed our forms comndable did he proceed to the next form, Tidal Surge.
Needless to say, the second form was far more complex and required significantly more ti to master. At this rate, I feared it would be Fall before I got to learn the third.
At least rune engraving was more imdiately gratifying. Although both Ways counted hours spent training, not actual improvent, it was easier to determine my progress with runes.
That reminded —it was about ti I finished my assignnt. I brought out my stencil papers, rune engraver pen, and got to work. Although I had unlocked the Way of Ambi-dexterity, attempting to draw with my left hand would be pointless. It would only ruin expensive materials. Mum refused to tell how much these special papers cost, but I intended to waste none of them.
So far, I had learned only one elentary script of the fire elent. Engraving it wasn’t particularly difficult, but achieving perfect symtry was another matter. A slight tremor in my hand or too much pressure in one stroke, and the script was ruined. Even with the engraver pen’s uncanny ability to draw precise lines, it took so ti getting used to.
Now, I found even drawing a deliberate flaw on the octagonal line was a careful task. To be thorough, I prepared another imperfect script for my experint, but just as I was about to step outside, the Spell’s voice halted .
[Congratulations! Engraving I (10/10) is complete.]
[ 2 Arcane Acuity.]
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
[Engraving II (10/25) is now accessible.]
“But these scripts aren’t perfect,” I muttered. I was already aware of the reward I'd receive, but the ssage confused .
Does the Spell only count ti spent on the craft? It finally dawned on . That feels so wrong…
Wouldn’t that encourage people to repeat the sa elentary script endlessly without actually improving?
Shaking off my concerns for now, I proceeded with my experint. I already had answers to Mum’s assignnt; now I just needed to collect evidence.
I found a dry piece of wood and wrapped the stencil paper around it. If I had my own threads of essence, the process of imparting the runes would have been much easier. Instead, I painstakingly traced over the stencil’s lines onto the wood. Once finished, I opened the small vial of diluted liquid essence Mum had given .
Using the small pencil brush that ca with it, I carefully traced the input point of the script and observed. Imdiately, the essence flowed through the octagonal path to activate the fire rune. However, the deliberate imperfection on one corner caused a slight delay. While the other seven sides reached the rune almost instantly, the flawed side lagged behind by a mont or two before igniting the wood.
That wasn’t all. As I scrutinised closely, the script began to disintegrate from the flawed side. It was designed to provide a steady fla, but instead, the rune burst abruptly, setting the wood alight, rising to a fla higher than myself. I stepped back as the fire flared, but it receded just as quickly, leaving behind pure black charcoal.
Huh, that was more fun than I expected, I thought, shaking my head. Without wasting ti, I repeated the process with the second script, though this one had a different type of flaw.
This ti, the rune malfunctioned much faster, with the faulty side disintegrating first. But instead of erupting into a towering blaze, the rune was slowly consud by its own weak fla. The script acted as nothing but a glorified matchstick.
With that out of the way, I returned to the study room and began scribbling.
Mum arrived just in ti, asking if I wanted to join her in the forge. She asked, not ordered; there was a clear distinction.
Before she could leave, I handed her a notebook, flipping to a specific page.
“What is this?” she asked.
“The howork you gave the other day,” I said with a grin, almost certain about my answers.
On my first day in the forge, she had demonstrated the fabrication process, showing how most runes were carved symtrically. When I asked why, she made it an assignnt for to figure it out on my own.
So I did.
I considered all the factors I was privy to with my agre knowledge base on the subject before coming up with my experints. Then I ticulously recorded every detail of my observations, filling more than a few pages.
“This is well detailed,” Mum murmured, flipping through the pages.
“Writing helps ,” I said, craning my neck. “It keeps focused on the facts.”
The truth was, too much information in my head beca overwhelming. Writing it down made everything concrete and easier to analyse. It also freed my mind.
“So, what’s your judgnt?” she asked, her expression unreadable as she mulled sothing over. “Did you reach an answer?”
I grinned as she turned to the final page, where I had written my conclusion.
Runic designs needed symtry to function correctly. The more precise the form, the better the rune’s performance. This principle was at least true when it ca to circuit integrity and rune efficiency. Also, a symtrical design allowed runes to operate at full capacity with minimal essence consumption.
The imperfect scripts I tested were not only inefficient but also structurally weak. Calling them unstable would be an understatent.
Mum humd thoughtfully. “Anything else you discovered?”
I tilted my head. “Did I miss sothing in my observations?”
Not exactly. But there was one question that had been nagging at since she had given this assignnt.
“Mum, do spell forms also need to be symtrical to work properly?” I asked, recalling how all the rejuvenation spells she had cast on followed symtrical patterns.
She smiled, ruffling my hair. “It’s all about efficiency, isn’t it? You’ve co to the right conclusion, though you can’t yet explain why symtry enhances performance.” She paused, as though she had forgotten to praise properly. “Good job. It usually takes a novice months to figure that out.”
It hadn’t even taken a week, I thought, but I kept the smugness to myself. She didn’t like gloating, and neither did I. Then again, my success was the result of months of study, ever since she first handed the cube.
We left for the forge underground. As Mum discussed my observations, I asked the question gnawing at . “But why does a symtrical form raise efficiency to such a high degree?”
“You probably would have figured out the rest on your own if you could use your own essence to power formations,” she said. “It’s all about flow distribution—not just in rune design, but also in essence veins, spell forms, and even within our bodies. The more evenly distributed the flow, the more efficient everything becos.
“When essence pools unevenly, it destabilises the design. It becos inefficient, and eventually, the structure collapses. There’s also an argunt that symtrical forms allow for the fastest essence flow output.”
I clicked my tongue. “Blight and ashes, I forgot to asure that.”
Mum didn’t seem at all disappointed. I had been so focused on analysing flawed scripts and backtracking to the answer that I completely forgot to test with a perfect script.
There was still so much to learn.
Now I knew symtrical forms were needed for runes to excel, but that was only where the problem began. There was a huge gap between knowing and applying it in practice. Just knowing wasn’t enough. A scriber needed to be perfect in their scribing to make it symtrical. Even a tiny mistake, invisible to the naked eye, could eventually make the formation break.
“There are many dishonest artisans out there,” Mum said, her voice turning serious. “They deliberately leave imperfections in their designs so that the integrity weakens over ti. That way, the fabricator malfunctions, and the owner is forced to pay for repairs. So do it out of greed, others just to survive. Runesmithing is expensive to learn and practise. Either way, the motivation doesn’t change the fact that it’s a dishonest practice.”
She stopped walking and turned to face , her gaze firm.
“I want you to never practise such dishonesty,” she said, her voice turning grave. “Your work defines the kind of man you are. If you ever feel like the coins you have aren’t enough, just tell . Hmm?”
I nodded like a woodpecker, completely in agreent.
Although we were not rich—certainly not like the Octavius family—we lived a fulfilling life. Mum provided for everything we needed, and she never hesitated to invest in my education. That was more than enough.
Reviews
All reviews (0)