The Infinite Bk. 03 Ch. 03

It was all the more difficult with the giant sledgehammer he was dragging along. Maces, that was the subject of the class, and every cadet had been given a random bludgeon tool. They were each heavy and cumbersome, dragging cadets down like anchors. They gripped their weapons with pruning fingers as they slogged through the mess. To bear with that weight, that awkwardness, and to keep a hold on their weapon no matter what they were doing was the lesson they had to learn.

The next challenge was getting up a manmade cliff. It was forty feet tall and built at a steep angle out of pure clay, now slickened by the rain and streaked from the boots and grabbing fingers of cadets who had tried to climb up, only to slide back down. One cadet was halfway up, using his spiked mace as an ice axe to help him hold his place. Two cadets were standing at the base, each gasping for air and cursing their weapons and the rain.

Gideon, staring at the earthen barrier, instead felt his breath become steady. The rain hitting his face turned into a freezing wind, the winds that would come off the mountains at his home village in Vandheim. He was trained to fight as a child, having spent countless days making harsher climbs up mountains, always carrying a large jug of water. To stay balanced on all inclines and footings was one of the foundations of his eagle clan's fighting styles, for it made their kicks more powerful and precise.

He took a deep breath and charged up the slope, moving his feet faster than he could slide back down. He zoomed up the incline without issue, shocking the two cadets below and the one still climbing. Perched atop the cliff, he looked ahead and saw an infinite line of obstacles ahead.

"Speedy fucker..."

Hearing a familiar voice, Gideon looked down at the cadet still climbing. "Foley?"

The dwarf looked up at him in surprise. "Roc? Is that really you?"

"It's Gideon now." He held out his sledgehammer for Foley to grab onto and pulled him up.

"Gideon, huh? You mean there was another tall ginger shit whose place you took?"

"Well if I wasn't tall, I wouldn't be able to do this."

He punted Foley back down the hill, rolling head over feet and screaming curses.

----------

During the following days, Noah used his invisibility whenever possible, from the library to the bathhouse, anywhere that other cadets might try to start a conversation. He usually dropped it in situations where his visible presence was required, such as eating in the mess hall with Alexis, receiving lessons under the eye of the teachers, or sleeping in the barracks. The problem was roll call, performed at every indoor and outdoor lesson. Hearing Noah's name, the other cadets, those who had heard the rumors, would twist around to see him. The nobles were after him, each hoping to recruit him into their faction.

Upon entry into the Order, bronze knights had two options. The first was to serve under a noble, usually who wrote their letter of recommendation, but not always. This was considered a relatively cushy job, spending one's days hunting monsters and bandits and helping to maintain peace in the territories. For those who took this path, promotion to silver only came after ten consecutive years of active service. The other choice was to serve the kingdom on the front lines, helping to expand the nation's borders. While far less comfortable, those on the front lines were more likely to earn notable achievements and prestige, making a name for themselves beyond whatever town they happened to be guarding and being promoted faster.

A knight's loyalty, first and foremost, was to the crown and royal family, even over the lord who employed them. All royal summons had to be answered, and all orders followed, with those who refused being arrested for treason. Still, the quantity and quality of knights under a noble's employ would earn them influence in the royal courts and strengthen their authority, as well as keep their lands safe. The great houses would comb the ranks of bronze knights in search of promising individuals they could recruit. At the academy, their sons and daughters were doing the same, searching for Noah like sharks following the scent of blood. Unfortunately, Seraph's attack on Valia had further chummed the water.

It was the fifth day, final class when he ended up on the prince's radar. It was a life skills class, one that would teach everything from equipment management to cooking in the field, and the only class the two of them shared. Roll call, his name was announced, and he immediately felt bloodlust aimed in his direction. Seraph had locked eyes on him, and Noah's anonymity was spent. As soon as class ended, he backed out of everyone's line of sight and turned invisible, then escaped before Seraph could do anything.

The next day was one he and all the other cadets had been waiting for. It was the unofficial "weekend," a term no native of this world was aware of, and it meant a break from classes. It was a chance for the cadets to rest and study how they wished, and while most enjoyed the former, Noah wasn't going to waste the latter. He planned on spending the whole day in the library, the same way he had been spending all of his free time.

After breakfast, he secluded himself in an isolated corner with a stack of books. While reading, he'd take notes, scratching on parchment with a quill and inkwell. He had grown accustomed to the handwritten texts and could now speed through them. Unfortunately, the authors of these books tended to meander around topics like they were writing online recipes, and he had to sift through a lot of useless information before finding anything of value. Through his dives, he found out most knowledge of runes originated from the Enochians, and was passed along by the elves. Much had been lost to time, and humanity struggled to regain that knowledge. Still, what he found did interest him.

There were runes not just for fundamental concepts like gravity, but also abstract concepts, such as emotions and desires. For such symbols to exist, a sentient mind would have had to create them, and to the primitive humans of this world, magic circles would have been interpreted as a contract with God, a form of acknowledgment and communication from an inarguable authority. Did runes prove that sentient gods existed in this reality? Could they have even made this reality?

To Noah, the magic circles were not contracts written in an abstract language but mathematical equations. Any concept could be assigned a specific numerical value and placed in a stoichiometric algorithm, one that would balance itself and produce magic. If this really was the language of the universe, it was fitting to come in mathematical form. Most of the known runes had already been identified, but many were yet to be translated. They would appear in magic circles, an unknown variable within the equation. Since their designs followed patterns based on their subject, many runes had been predicted before ever being witnessed, though their meaning had yet to be determined. Noah hoped this to be accurate, that the runes for his magic and immortality still waited to be found.

When morning turned to afternoon, he decided to change direction. He needed a written spell he could perform in his next magic class, so he went searching for something easy. He wasn't the only one, as by now, every cadet had attended Sir Elyot's first lesson and had the same assignment. He'd see them with their faces buried in books or getting reprimanded by the librarian when they tried casting magic. Paper used in runecraft deteriorated when the spell was used, so casting spells directly from the library books was forbidden and considered damaging academy property, not to mention the spells themselves could be dangerous.

It didn't take long for Noah to find one that caught his eye. It was a light spell, the same one that Sir Elyot had used, but slightly smaller, allowing the user to make their finger glow like a candle flame. Simple and practical, just the way he liked it. Noah copied the runes precisely on a sheet of parchment. The librarian was on the other side of the bookshelf labyrinth, so he decided to give it a shot. He placed his hand on the parchment and channeled his mana, just as he had with the crystal ball on enrollment day.

"Light Finger."

The spell was uttered, and a magic circle appeared around his finger, but no light was produced. He looked all over his hands and even under his clothes, but no part of his body was lighting up. This wasn't making any sense. The runes were perfect, and the cost was next to nothing. He felt his mana flowing through the parchment, and the magic circle appeared. Was the light simply too dim to be noticed during the day? What was the issue?

'Sir Elyot did say to keep looking if our first choice doesn't pan out. I guess this will take a little time.'

He continued testing spells, but the result was the same no matter what he tried or what avenue he went down. The runes would glow, and a magic circle would appear, but the spell wouldn't manifest. After hours of failed attempts, he finally sat back and sighed. What was he doing wrong? Runecrafting was about balancing the equation, compensating for that which he could not pay. Clearly, there was something he was lacking. The other cadets he had seen in the library typically found a working spell after their third or fourth attempt, but he was up to the twentieth. He had read enough about runes to be far ahead of the class, but now, he was stumped.

Faced with a figurative wall while leaning against a literal one, he let his mind and eyes wander, and his gaze fell to his sword, resting on the seat next to his. He drew, snapped, and then repaired the glass blade, as easily has he had done before.

'I can use enchanted weapons, but not written spells?'

He went back through his books, looking for any clues. With written spells, the parchment and the ink would manipulate, amplify, and change the nature of the user's mana, but the spell was ultimately powered by the user. Magic tools, on the other hand, required more varied and powerful materials, but the energy produced by those combinations made the spells self-sustaining. When he channeled his power into his glass sword, his mana wasn't repairing it, simply activating the sword so that it would project its own strength and repair itself.

'Projection, that's the issue. When using runecrafting, my mana is strong enough for activation but can't be projected. I think it might be time to consult an expert.'

He got to his feet, began putting away his notes and books, and then left the library, making his way to Sir Elyot's classroom. The professor was there, along with some other cadets pouring over books. Noah knocked on the door as he entered.

"Excuse me, Sir Elyot, I was hoping to speak to you in regards to your assignment."

"Let me guess, you're having a hard time finding a beginner spell that works?"

Noah looked around at the other cadets. "I'm afraid it's a little more complicated, sir."

"More complicated? How?"

"If you don't mind, sir, I'd prefer to have this conversation in private."

"Very well, come with me."

Noah followed Sir Elyot through a door in the back of the classroom, leading to a private study. It was much like Madam Cyrilo's, featuring shelves full of books, cabinets full of potions, and various tools, artifacts, and animal remains on display, all for the pursuit of magical understanding. Unlike Cyrilo's study, the smell of dust and spilled ingredients wasn't masked by perfume.

Elyot sat behind his desk and faced Noah. "So, what's the problem?"

"I was hoping you could tell me. It seems my mana can activate written spells but can't actually manifest them. I've attempted twenty different spells, such as elemental, monk, and warrior, but none of them have worked. I copied them perfectly from books in the library. Here, please take a look."

Over his shoulder, Noah carried a satchel filled with his notes. He pulled out several pieces of parchment, each with a different spell, and laid them out on Elyot's desk. Elyot looked them over with soft mutterings.

"Penmanship is excellent... the contracts are correctly written... the ink and parchment appear suitable... and the spells are small as can be." He selected one of the spells Noah had attempted, the Light Finger technique. He cast the spell, causing a magic circle to appear around his glowing fingertip while the cheap parchment crinkled and threatened to deteriorate. He released the spell and passed it back to Noah. "Try and cast it for me."

Noah mimicked Sir Elyot and tried to cast the spell, but there was no light while the magic circle appeared. "Every spell I've tried has been like this. I can use enchanted items like this self-repairing sword from Lady Zodiac's lessons, but I can't project my own mana through runecraft."

"Hmmm, this is interesting."

"Is it interesting in the sense that you've seen only a few cases of this? Or that you've never seen this?"

"If the magic circles didn't appear, I'd say the first one. However, the fact that the spells activate but don't actually manifest has me in a bit of a loop. So, you can't use crafted magic. Is there any intuitive magic you can use?"

"Not that I know of."

"I'll be honest, I can't see you getting far in the Order if you can't use magic. Fortunately, this handicap is interesting enough that it might be fixable. It sounds to me like a curse, perhaps placed on you by someone else."

"Curses are long-lasting magic with negative side effects, right?"

"That's right. Here, hold this. It's a fabric similar to what we used for the wristbands." From within his desk drawer, he pulled out a piece of cloth and handed it to Noah. As soon as it touched Noah's hand, it began to glow with a chalky hue. "Just as I thought. That fabric reacts in the presence of active magic, but only if it's been active for at least a month. Huh, it doesn't usually produce that color. Either way, I can try to remove it."

Noah's heart skipped a beat. Whatever force was preventing him from using magic, he didn't care about getting it removed, not when there was something else far more pressing.

"I really appreciate it."

Elyot began looking through a bookshelf behind his desk. "Since we don't know the runes or source of the curse, we can't simply dispel it. It needs an exorcism. We'll call upon the gods, ask them to use their power and authority to break the spell. Ah, here it is."

He pulled a slip of parchment out of one of his books. Just from the look, it was higher quality than the paper Noah and the cadets used in their research, and the ink was shinier. Sir Elyot lit a candle, dribbled some wax onto the back of the parchment, and used it as glue to stick it to Noah's forehead.

"By the way, I didn't catch your name."

"Cadet Noah, sir."

"Cadet Noah? You're the one who fought Valia, right?"

"That's right."

"Hmmm, interesting." He then took four orbs carved from crystal and set them up around Noah's feet in a 6x6 ft square. "Stand absolutely still. Do not move." He cleared his throat. "Terranora, God of Earth, we call upon you, your most humble servants. We beseech thee to bless us with your divine power and undo this fetid magic." The four orbs began to roll on the floor in a circle around Noah, defying all laws of physics. "Terranora, the Most High, upon this soil which is your domain, a poor soul walks with an unbearable curse. With your mercy, he may be freed and know your grandeur."

The orbs were rolling faster and creating a smaller circle, closing in on Noah. He tried to keep his heart steady, to focus and feel whatever power and authority was within the room. If ever a miracle were to occur, if ever a divine presence were to make itself known, he needed it to be now.

"From the tallest mountains and to the greatest valleys, the vastness of your kingdom knows no bounds, and we pray that this young man may live within it without this horrible burden. In your name, we pray."

The tag stuck on Noah's forehead turned to dust, and he and Sir Elyot were forced to duck as the circle broke, all four orbs shooting off in random directions like cannonballs and ricocheting around the room. They smashed through walls, windows, furniture, and equipment, two even shattering and sending crystal shrapnel in all directions, several pieces of which struck Noah in the face.

"Well, I feel just so much better now," Noah muttered as he pulled a piece of crystal out of a wound on his forehead. "Maybe you didn't butter Terranora up enough."

"That... that wasn't supposed to happen," said Sir Elyot, utterly bewildered and picking up his broken glasses. "I've never seen an exorcism rebound like that before. If the spell fails, the orbs just break formation and roll away."

"What would cause it to fail?"

"Not all exorcisms are the same. They vary in strength, same as curses. That was mid-level, but a reaction like that... the curse would have to be... unbelievable. How long have you had this affliction?"

Noah sighed. "For about as long as I can remember." He pulled out another piece of shrapnel. He was lucky none of the pieces struck his eyes, but he was bleeding from several places. "What now?"

"Now? Now I'm personally interested. My pride as a researcher will be tarnished if I turn away from his intriguing challenge. As for you, you are excused from my assignment. I suggest you go to the infirmary and then head to the mess hall for dinner."

"Thank you, sir." Noah stepped towards the door, but stopped. "Oh, by the way, may I borrow something?"

Out in the auditorium, all the cadets, having heard the loud crashes from the exorcism, were staring at the door from their desks like prairie dogs poking out of their holes. Upon its opening, they ducked back down, but instinct drew their eyes when they spotted the red of blood. Noah paid them no mind and departed, making his way through the academy and to the infirmary. This late in the afternoon, there was no line, and he stepped in to find only one healer: Sophia. She was stationed by the same bed as last time, passing the empty time with a book in her hand. Galvin wasn't with her.

Noah stepped back out of the doorway before she could notice him. A dozen different arguments and scenarios ran through his brain as he weighed his decision. Enter that room or wait and get healed later? He juggled scenarios like a street performer, letting the future play out. The afternoon sun on her scarlet hair was picturesque, another masterpiece he wished to hang in the museum of his memories. Collect her he would, if not for the ball and chain. It was bad enough he already had one psychotic prince on his tail. He didn't want to start pissing off the rest of the family. How much effort would it take, killing all the people who might come after him because of her? How many pikes would be hoisted for one flag?

"Oh, is Cadet Rosege busy?" the academy healer, carrying a basket full of bandages, asked. Having just come around the corner, she took him by the arm and pulled him inside.

"Cadet Rosege, put that book down and tend to this poor boy! How long are you going to make him wait?"

"Excuse me," said Noah. 'And up the flagpole it goes.'

"Oh, uh, w-welcome!" she sputtered while jumping to her feet.

"Sorry, didn't mean to get you in trouble," said Noah as he walked over and sat on the bed, causing her to pull away as if forced by magnetism.

"Please, it's my fault for letting you wait." She was nervous, but lacked the despair she showed when Galvin was around. Looking at Noah, there was a quizzical gleam in her eyes. Where did she recognize him from?

The old woman was digging through the basket on the other side of the room. "Where is that...? Damn it." She turned to Sophia while walking back to the doorway. "I want him patched up before I get back!"