[Flashback] First Lesson with the Mystery Man [Hatter]

[Hadrian]

15th Spring, 508 A.V. It was two days since the game had ended with Hadrian managing to secure Zephyrus Shadowrunner as a mentor, probably by the skin of his teeth. Zelina was avoiding him, which was probably for the best after the Drykas adventurer had revealed how serious her attack had been. Zan seemed discomfited, but Hadrian thought he saw a note of respect from the older student. He was probably wrong, he assured himself, but if he wasn't ... that was odd. Not that Hadrian cared. He wanted knowledge, not friends. In truth, he was going to have to hide his admiration for Zephyrus. He seemed to be so capable and self-contained, much as Hadrian hoped to be before too much longer. Of course, there was still so much to learn. "The art is long, and life is short," he murmured to himself. Though he was waiting outside the professor's office, he had gone to Caelum to wrap his ankle because he wouldn't put it past the man to conduct his teaching somewhere less orthodox, which would require walking on Hadrian's part. Normally he walked all over the place all the time, working off excess energy and focusing his thoughts. Lately he was fidgety as that recourse was not advisable on his ankle. While he sat there on the bench outside the office waiting for Zephyrus, he decided to do a little practicing. Some people criticized him for his 'little tricks', but he considered such minute things to be efforts toward greater control and familiarity with the djed and his skills. Usually they were minor enough that they did not require too much energy, the which he saved for larger tasks. He blinked, turning on his magic vision, and looked down at his hand. The glow was of a familiar quality; it was, after all, him. The patterns seemed ever sharper as he got more used to Auristics, though he was getting a little frustrated with his progress. Azilis remained better than him at it, but she had been lucky enough to have an auristics professor for a father while Hadrian was the black sheep of his merchanting family. He glanced at his ankle, noting how the energy was darker, more chaotic. But upon closer examination, he recognized patterns that he took to mean his body was working to fix itself. Not for the first time, he breathed in, breathed out, and attempted to divert his excess energy to his heart center to collect, and then down his torso and down his leg to supply himself with what he needed to heal. It wasn't healing, per se, this odd use of the Flux that he and Azilis had been practicing, but an experiment on non-violent applications of the discipline, to see if instead of speeding up movement, one could speed up healing, or instead of increasing strength, one could increase constitution. His logic was based on the idea Caelum had told him: that the body needed energy in the form of food and sleep in order to heal itself. Well, he was just providing a different sort of energy. The best, in his estimation. It felt a little better, but that was inconclusive. It might just have been in his head. Hadrian had been early, but these little things helped him pass the time, and at this point he didn't even know if Zephyrus was late or not. In an effort to remain occupied, he stopped watching the flow of djed down to his leg and the subsequent brightening of that portion of his aura, and instead looked to his hand again. With concentration, he managed to push res out through the pores of the tip of his index finger, keeping up a steady flow that he bade transmute into water with a focused thought. It was the focus that he sought with this little exercise, directing the res out through limited apertures, maintaining a steady flow and a steady transmutation. He had hoped for fire, thinking it would be helpful to an academic wizard who had only his wits upon which to rely for his protection, but the gods had deemed water his primary element. Of late, he was coming to terms with this. Water was more subtle, more ... insidious? ... an element. It required finesse, and that was more training for the mind than lobbing fireballs. So he would have to be creative. And focused. Always focused. He watched the water drip from his fingertip to the bench beside him on one spectrum, while also watching the djed flow down his arm toward his finger, watched the bright pinprick of light at his fingertip that he thought of as the reaction, the transmutation of djed into res, and then res into water. He watched the water, too, its aura clear and clean, and somehow overlaid with a bit of Hadrian, its creator. Then he sat erect, assuming a practiced posture as the graphomancer had taught him, and brought his finger down to the tiny puddle with studied grace and began to form a glyph. It was a meditative practice when he worked on his calligraphy, and he almost fell into a light contemplative trance just then. He observed his thought from inception to creation, and then to the codification of it, the crystallization of it, as a glyph. Water, the thought. Water, the element created. Water, the glyph. "Adra," he murmured, naming it in Nader-canoch.

[Hatter]

"Water is good." Zephyrus' voice spoke from nowhere. He was good at that. "More useful than most students give it credit for." Somehow he was able to read Hadrian's mind. Or just his aura. Whatever it was the professor had a keen insight that allow him to unsettle any mind; whether it was the mysterious veil he kept over his features or just that damn hat, Zephyrus had the mystique of his profession down. With a clack of boots on stone the man passed by the student and motioned for Hadrian to stand. A quick observance revealed that Shadowrunner's hand was burnt - strange that, that was not there previous. Casually, the professor motioned with his opposing limb and the door to his office swung open, the heavy, wooden frame creaking under its disrepair. Dust flew out of the entrance and swept over the two like a billowing storm, a testament to how often the man made his home at the university. The innards were what one would expect. There was a desk. A chair. A shelf with no books on it. The office was completely barren. Unlike the other professor's with their stacks of paperwork and trinkets and tomes, this room was a formality. The only item of any note was a single book that sat in the middle of the desk, thick with desk with a binding that looked as if it would shred to tatters at any moment. Shadowrunner swept around the exterior. He traced the stone wall with his wounded hand and knocked on a few, key places before he nodded and made his way to the chair. There was no place for Hadrian to sit. Unlike the nights previous Zephyrus was armed with peripheral gear. He set a thick, heavy pack on the surface of his desk - careful to avoid the book - and produced a variety of what could only be described as "adventuring equipment. A whetstone, waterskin, an additional rucksack, and a variety of trinkets and small, seemingly useless items that all now decorated the desk in an unpacked fashion. When he was finished the man gave Hadrian a queer stare, one that lasted for too long for comfort. Just what was he looked at? "Here we are, oh apprentice of mine. I imagine you have questions so let's get them out of the way. Bare your curiosity."

[Hadrian]

Hadrian blinked up at Zephyrus, his res production and transmutation stuttering to a stop, water dropping onto the bench beside him. When his augmented Vision took in the strange professor again, he was startled anew by the complexity of his aura. It was just beyond his ken. Perhaps one day he would be a skilled aurist enough to pick it apart, but now it was patterns that hurt his eye to follow, and colors that he couldn't describe. He knew a bit about optics, having studied auristics under Professor Theroulde, Azilis' father, and he knew that his brain interpreted what it saw in normal life as different colors, so while it tried to interpret the things it saw auristically, they were new patterns of information, so calling them by other colors was not exactly precise either. He loved the complexity of magic, and he wasn't going to be able to look at Zehpyrus' aura for too much longer or the man would probably make some comment about staring. "I'm slowly getting better," he admitted, standing. "Zan initiated me a couple of years ago. Water didn't seem to be his bailiwick, though, so I've mostly taught myself." He covered his mouth with his arm, slitting his eyes as the dust whooshed past them, not wanting to hack up a lung or go teary-eyed and blind. But he followed without comment, watching with quiet appreciation everything that he did with Projection, with Auristics. He wasn't sure if he was going to like Zephyrus, but he could certainly respect his power and control. He hoped he would like him; that would make things easier. Giving the room and its contents, the book, a once over, he then let his Vision fade back to normal. "My only question is where do we start?" he said. "I want to learn everything you're willing to teach me." Many probably said this, but for him it was true. Accumulating knowledge and making connections between the things he knew and the new things he learned was what he lived for. It made his solitude worthwhile. "Well, all right, to be perfectly honest, I want to know about the book... and if you're going to teach me Projection... but I'm trying to be patient." He hazarded a crooked smile. Sometimes honesty was the best policy. Not that Hadrian was inherently dishonest, but he certainly calculated the best way to say things if given the chance to do so.

[Hatter]

"What book?" Zephyrus asked. Was he joking? His face was deadpan. There was no way he did not see the tome, the old, ancient cover that lay in wait. He had even avoided it with his pack. Something was amiss, but he did not drone it for long. "We start whenever your ready. I mean really ready. You want to learn, good, but you want to learn too much. I don't have time to teach you every discipline I know; what I do have time for is to teach you how to make something of yourself. These professors and their university is great, sure, but with all their power all these wizards do is sit around and talk. They teach, they wave their arms around, but what do they accomplish? The real knowledge is out there." Shadowrunner gestured around with his arm, motioning to the outside world. At least he was displaying some emotion. His voice was seethed in passion. "There is more to be found out there, in a single ruin, than all the minds of this school in one. Relics, ruins, real magic existed before the Valterrian. And that, Hadrian, is what I do. I seek the knowledge of the ancients." Zephyrus finished his speech and leaned back in his chair, his hands now resting comfortably on the top of his desk. They made an imprint in all the dust. He gave the boy just enough pause to consider his words before he continued. "Voiding, Projection, Webbing, Glyphing, and Leeching." He did not even hesitate to add the last discipline. Leeching was taboo, especially in the university. "That is what I can teach you. Choose. And what about a book?"

[Hadrian]

For a moment Hadrian wondered if Zephyrus' Leeching had affected his mind. Either there was a book on the desk, or Zephyrus was an illusionist on top of everything, and distracting him with rhetoric and philosophy, but Hadrian enjoyed those pursuits as well. He considered the Drykas adventurer for a moment, wondering why he didn't show the signs of weakness supposedly inherent in leechers, wondering if he had it within himself to be as capable an adventurer as he, wondering what exactly he meant by ready. "Every teacher seems to have a different idea about what ready means. Someone once told me that when the student is ready, the teacher appears. Following that maxim, which may or may not be sound, the fact that you are here proves that, on some level, I am ready." He considered now his options. Leeching was not something in which he was interested unless he could come up with some way to counteract its deleterious side effects. Perhaps one day he would be able to magecraft some talisman to purify incoming djed and prevent the decay of the body, but not today. Glyphing he was already learning, and while he would surely accrue some new perspective and skill from Zephyrus, he felt it was not the best opportunity laid out for him. Projection would be useful, but it would not be so terribly difficult to find a teacher in that discipline. Voiding was of interest since his discussions with Azilis regarding the possibility of setting up a secure laboratory within the Void, but he was not sure that he was ready for that yet. Besides, when would he get the chance to learn Webbing? It was so rare outside the Horseclans of Cyphrus. "You're right, though," he said. "I'm not ready for some of those disciplines, but I would be honored if you considered me worthy of learning to Web." Unsure if this would be a sticky subject, he could only press forward with his choice. After all, Zephyrus had offered. And perhaps he could read in Hadrian's aura that he held no ill will toward the Drykas, and, beyond that, had no reason to either tamper with the Cyphrus web or do harm to his people. "And who knows, perhaps someday you will think me fit to accompany you to one of these ruins. We might rediscover a lost discipline..." He dared a tremulous smile despite himself. Hadrian had long been torn between following his father's voice in his head to seek out a discipline that would be marketable and the desire to be an archaeowizard and plumb the depths of the ancients' knowledge, even if the chances of success were slim to none. One needed a dream to follow, after all. One needed something to make life worth living. "With respect," he began, not wanting there to be conflict between them as learning magic was difficult enough without an antagonistic relationship between mentor and apprentice, "there appears to be a book on your desk." He pointed, but did not move closer to touch. Some glyphed traps were set off by proximity or touch. He was not aware of any that were triggered by the subtle change in djed that denoted a person's attention. Such a sophisticated set of glyphs would likely require a master's touch. One day he hoped to be such a master, but for today and for a long time, he would be the student.

[Hatter]

""Of course you would want to learn Webbing." Zephyrus said and leaned back, his arms folding up over his chest. He did not appear amused. His aura seemed somehow different to. Unreadable. The once vibrant colors became a dull grey, lacking any tell-tale signs of emotion. A peculiar change. And a dangerous one. No doubt Shadowrunner had a few tricks up his sleeve; if he did not want Hadrian to read his expression then there was something nefarious afoot. Or maybe he was just testing the boy. Again. Somehow the latter seemed all the more likely. When he continued, Zephyrus did not sound amused. "And not even a bat of the eye at Leeching. I figured you would want to learn that more than anything. No matter." He waved a hand through the air as if to dismiss the idea. "Webbing is sacred to the Drykas. Sort of a cultural identity." His arms left his chest and rested on the desk just in front of the book. With the way he avoided the thing there was no way he could have missed it. "I don't know what you may have heard about me - no doubt it was something or another about a disloyal dog - but I did not go around teaching sacred, secret arts of my people to random, one-shot, arrogant gits that fancy themselves the world's next greatest magicians. So." He paused, his eyes focusing in on the boy. The tone was dreadfully serious. "If I were to teach you webbing you must sign a little document. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Grand Oath?"

[Hadrian]

"Of course I know what a Grand Oath is," he said. "Zarik Mashaen is supposedly stuck in Sahova after signing one for Sagallius." He fell silent, trying to let the parsimony in Zephyrus' voice slide off his back like rain off a duck. To his mind, Zephyrus was at least as much an arrogant git as he was. Though Hadrian was certainly a risk taker where magical experimentation was concerned, he was not fool enough to dive into Leeching without reason. He considered speaking, but it seemed the better part of valor to listen. Someone had said that wisdom was silent. Pray Eyris his attempts at silence would prove fruitful in the wisdom department. It also occurred to him that if Zephyrus was capable of drafting a Grand Oath, it bespoke a skill with Glyphing that far outstripped his own meager beginnings. Master Alaihi had told him he had potential, but as yet the potential remained largely unfulfilled. There was time, though. And he would practice. Intuiting where the web mage's mind was going, he asked, "What would the terms of the Oath be?"

[Hatter]

Zephyrus was indeed an arrogant git, but his arrogance was warranted. The man could, after all, draft a Grand Oath. That was cause for being pompous. He did not hesitate when Hadrian showed interest in the deal. The man leaned forward and laid a hand on the book he professed no knowledge of only moments previous. It was clear now that the jest was yet another of Shadowrunner's tests. The man was full of them. It was suddenly apparent that his actions might be based off of his riddles and shenanigans. Perhaps Hadrian's education lay in the balance of his reactions. With a quick hand Zephyrus opened the cover of the old, dusty tome and revealed the contents. Nothing. The first page was blank. Strange though, it appeared as if several pages had been torn out of the ancient book. "The terms are simple. First, you would not be allowed to teach the discipline o webbing to another soul, living or dead." A thorough clause. "Second, you would not be allowed to tamper with any web drawn up by a Drkyas, whether it be for a beneficial act or a hostile intention." The wording was vague, perhaps intentionally so. "Third, you would be bound to not tell of me as teaching you, nor would you be able to tell of where you acquired the discipline to any soul, living or dead." No doubt Zephyrus was sure to cover his ass. "Fourth, you will agree to never use a web to spy on another mage." As Zephyrus finished speaking the page that was one blank was now full. A document lay before Hadrian, one that contained all the makings of an Oath. What a nifty item.

[Hadrian]

"I have questions," he said after a thoughtful pause. Not waiting for permission to ask, he began. "With regard to the first term, I do not have a problem with it. I don't intend it to be known that I know Webbing. I don't want your countrymen to take it into their heads that I should be hunted down for knowing their sacred arcanum. "With regard to the second term," he continued, "I would ask for a caveat, that being that I be allowed to manipulate the web of a Drykas as a beneficial act with their express permission. My reasoning for this is that while you seem generally unimpressed with me as a person and a magus, you are offering to teach me one of the Drykas mysteries, which I doubt you would do, even with this Oath, unless you saw some merit in me. Without this caveat, I would be unable to assist you should you ever take me into the field, which idea you might scoff at now, but in the future I might be an asset to you in that regard and it would be..." he wanted to say foolish, "ill-advised to make such a carte blanche term to this Oath. Unless, I suppose, you are skilled enough a Glypher for us to alter the terms at a later date. "With regard to the third term, I have no objection, though if for some reason one of my colleagues or professors within the University were to intuit or guess what I have learned, they would assume that you were my teacher. You must be aware of the rumors that have spread about you since you first came here. I would, of course, do what I could to keep my learning and my teacher a secret, but some would guess in any case and I can't be held accountable for that. "With regard to the fourth term," he said, his voice sounding like he was coming to a conclusion, at least for the time being, "I would ask that this term be changed such that I be bound from spying upon a Drykas. That would protect your countrymen and you, but there may come a time when I need information about some mage who is a danger to the public or to me. Would you deny me the ability to arm innocents with knowledge to protect them from some such scourge? Would you deny me the ability to defend myself with everything I have struggled to learn?" He wasn't even the son of a lawyer, but a merchant like his father was adept at negotiating contracts, and apparently Hadrian had either inherited a bit of his father's panache or had been an observant boy.

[Hatter]

"Ah, there it is." Zephyrus said with a light in his eyes. "Intelligence." He grinned at Hadrian and turned the book over to the next page, the cover and binding almost shattering at his touch. The tome was ancient, no doubt from an age long past. "I will alter the second term to your specifications." Shadowrunner repeated the first two terms aloud for both himself and Hadrian; as he spoke the words formed over the page once more. He went on to the third, ignoring his apprentice's musings. No doubt should anyone question the men that would find him to be insufferable. It was, after all, his greatest trait. As he reached the fourth term though, Zephyrus stopped and gave Hadrian a queer eye. His thoughts were impossible to gauge beneath that mask of stoicism. Even his aura was guarded. "So noble. Don't sweet talk me. I don't care about 'innocents' or what have you; these terms are to keep you safe, idiot. If you want to go about spying on whomever you please you need be aware of the consequences. The day you make a mistake is the day you die." Harsh, but Zephyrus was serious. At least in tone. "I'll edit it to include a caveat that allows its use against a Magus that means you harm." With that he repeated the fourth term, including the addition, and the document sat completed. The man produced a pen from seemingly nowhere - a queer habit of his - and signed the bottom before he turned the tome. He offered Hadrian the pen. "Sign it and we begin."