CHAPTER 18 – Moving Ahead, Falling Behind

Spare a thought for Celaena and Iolas as they sat with Saphienne in the parlour of their master. Although both were older than her – Celaena turned sixteen, Iolas still seventeen – and had prepared for longer to secure their start as Almon's apprentices, even from that very first day of lessons, they knew Saphienne was ahead of them.

No matter that they were both highly intelligent and thoughtful elves; no matter that the wizard regarded them with greater warmth than he did Saphienne; no matter that she was barely older than fourteen, and that they had more experience in many aspects of life. Listening to her recount what she had seen with the Second Sight, Celaena and Iolas knew without a doubt that she outshone them in apprenticeship… and, also, that she had no idea how inadequate she made them feel.

You might expect they would be jealous. No, they were not jealous. Nor were they angry. The glances they exchanged as Saphienne talked began as a shared acknowledgement that she was capable, soon growing into mutual disbelief, before finally becoming silent requests for reassurance — that they were both out of their depth.

This was why, when their master asked the trio to offer their thoughts on what they had described, Celaena and Iolas urged Saphienne to speak up. Better that she go first, and they could ride along after her. Better that, than have her trample over them when her turn came.

"Taking into account everything I described…" Saphienne took a deep breath. "…I think what we saw today wasn't magic."

She didn't notice Iolas catch Celaena's eye, just as she didn't notice them both studying Almon intently for his reaction. Saphienne was totally absorbed in her ongoing contest with the wizard, and she wouldn't understand anything about how she affected them until much later, until after she had learned the social awareness that came so readily to others.

Almon studied Saphienne as he sat, leaning forward. "…Go on, Saphienne. Explain the basis for that conjecture. Justify yourself to us."

Entertained, the illusory familiar chirped beside the window. "This ought to be good!"

"No more commentary, Peacock." The wizard didn't take his eyes from his apprentice. "Do her the courtesy of allowing her reasoning to stand, or fold, on merit."

Saphienne wondered whether that meant she was onto something, or whether he was letting her make a fool of herself. She hoped it was the former. "There are a few things we saw that suggest we weren't seeing everything," she began, "and you made a point of telling us that we would have to learn to infer what we couldn't directly observe. Then, earlier, you said the Second Sight wouldn't be the first spell we would learn, despite being fundamental to learning all other magic, because we would have to learn to sense what it revealed."

Almon nodded. "And yet, you say the spell didn't reveal magic?"

"That puzzled me, until I considered something else: that you might not be speaking with precision, and instead giving us a simplified explanation. Why else would you instruct us, despite all you said about judging from context and inferring hidden truths, to take your words at face value?"

"An instruction you presently ignore." He wasn't annoyed. "Continue."

"I'll start with the tome in the library." She thought back to what she had observed, recalling how three different magical disciplines combined to read what was written in the tome, transmit it elsewhere, and reproduce it on an identical page. "I saw indigo flashes whenever a word was written. Yet, the flashes faded away. Then, when someone wrote a reply, specks of the same colour appeared on the page and clustered around the area where the reply was to be written. A white flash followed, and then green lines traced out the message as it was writing itself on the page." Continuing, she matched the colours to their disciplines of magic. "Filaurel told me that indigo is the colour of Translocation spells, and that green is the colour of Transmutation spells. The Divination spell you cast on us was white."

Almon addressed the others. "All accurate. To facilitate discussion, I will add that the discipline of Invocation appears yellow, while Hallucination is blue, Fascination is violet, Abjuration is orange, and Conjuration is red. The specific shades vary, and can be concealed or misrepresented by a competent wizard, but let us ignore these complications for now." He returned his focus to Saphienne. "What is your point, child?"

She looked questioningly at Almon. "If the Second Sight reveals magic, showing its presence as colour, then I have to wonder: where did the magic appear from? And where did it return to?"

Celaena's voice was quiet. "I don't understand…"

Saphienne tried to clarify. "The colours were only visible while the tome was in use. Where were the indigo, and the white, and the green, before? What about afterwards?"

Having not meant to interrupt, Celaena was blushing. She sought permission from Almon with a raised hand before she tried to answer. "If indigo is the colour of Translocation… which I think implies movement… could the magic have gone to the other pages, in the matching tomes? Did it send knowledge of the words there, to be copied?"

"I had the same thought," Saphienne answered. "That would also explain why specks of indigo appeared on the page before the reply. But where was it before the writing began? None of the colours were visible at first. I didn't see any on the pages."

Almon leant back. "The enchantment lies in the binding of the cover," he explained. "Along with the pen. The pages aren't magical at all, and can be swapped out once the book is filled. Such an enchantment is harder to discern when it isn't performing its purpose, and so can be difficult for an untrained eye to notice."

Saphienne frowned. "I missed that."

"Knowing this now, does it change your conjecture?"

She thought it over; the fact he asked the question, rather than moving on, suggested there was more. "No. I think Iolas' observations of an Invocation spell suggests the same thing."

Iolas perked up. "How?"

"You said that the summoned spirit appeared to be surrounded by a yellow glow, but that the spirit itself wasn't yellow to the Second Sight. Contrast this with Peacock, who we know is a figment, and who glows with blue and violet to the Second Sight."

The bird chirped, happy to be mentioned.

Saphienne nodded to Iolas. "You said the spirit departed when the spell ended. What about before it arrived? Was the yellow that surrounded it already present? Was there an enchantment, like the book cover, or some other place in which the yellow was waiting?"

Unsure, Iolas considered what he had seen. "…We were at a shrine. And the shrine was enchanted with magic."

"You said that the shrine appeared different — a more golden hue."

"It was." He pursed his lips. "I didn't see the magic within the shrine interact with the summoning spell, either, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen."

Almon inclined his head. "Good. I will interject again, and tell you that the so-called 'consecration' on the shrine will have made the summoning spell more likely to succeed, but that the enchantment itself was indeed separate. You have both correctly guessed that different spells of the same discipline can have different shades of the discipline's colour… such as the yellow of butter, or the yellow of gold."

"Then," Saphienne went on, "if not within the shrine — where was the yellow of the summoning before the Invocation spell was cast?"

Celaena was nodding her head, following now, but she spoke up for the sake of the argument. "Could the magic have arrived with the spirit?"

"Iolas," Saphienne turned to him, "did you see the yellow appear at the same time as the spirit arrived, or before?"

"Before," he answered, "I'm certain. And it lingered after."

"So either it was called from the place where the spirit was, and came ahead, and then departed after the had gone spirit," she concluded, "or it appeared during the spellcasting, opened the way for the spirit, and then the spirit departed before the spell was finished."

The wizard scoffed. "Feels a little thin. You need more in support of your theory."

"I have more," Saphienne shot back, invested now. "I had my eyes closed when you cast the Second sight on me. I saw the spell taking shape before it showed me… whatever it actually showed. I'll return to that." She addressed the others. "Did it look the same to you? Like the colours were swaying, rippling, before they came into focus?"

Iolas shook his head, but Celaena nodded.

"To me," Saphienne continued, "it looked like the colours were being reflected on another medium. Like the surface of a pond, let's say."

Almon tutted. "Looks can be deceiving."

"They can." She smiled. "For example, the Second Sight you cast on me let me see the identical spell that you cast over Iolas. He could also see my Second Sight spell. But when I tried, I couldn't see my own Second Sight spell… not while using that same spell."

She looked to Iolas for confirmation, which he gave, and she went on. "The only glimpse I got of my own spell was when I saw its reflection… in the spell cast on Iolas. Why couldn't I see it directly?" She took a deep breath. "I think the Second Sight showed me the spell you cast on Iolas responding to the spell that was cast on me. I saw his spell, showing him my spell."

At that, Almon ceased to pretend scepticism, or to say much at all. He watched her, waiting for her to conclude.

"If the Second Sight reveals magic, and the Second Sight is a spell, and a spell is magic — why can't the Second Sight see itself?" Saphienne glanced at the other apprentices, but they remained silent. "And, when I watched Eletha sing her craft magic, it seemed that the green appeared in response to the singing, and changed with the singing, but neither Eletha or her voice on the air appeared green."

Saphienne gestured to Peacock. "He's made of magic. But Second Sight doesn't show the magic he's made of, does it? It only shows the magic at work. The Second Sight doesn't show magic, does it? The Second Sight shows spells. I think spells aren't the same thing as the magic they use."

"And what, Saphienne," her master asked, "is the distinction?"

She glanced at the page of thoughts she had written, but the answer wasn't there. "…It's to do with the sunlight," she realised, thinking aloud. "The sparkles from the sunlight weren't spells, but appeared like spells to the Second Sight. Which would suggest…"

Peacock bobbed his head, encouraging her.

"…Spells are the intersection between magic, whatever it actually is, and the world around us?"

Saphienne looked at Almon, hopeful.

Who then sighed, and shook his head.

"…Damn." Iolas sounded disappointed. "I thought you had something, there."

But the wizard surprised them. "She does."

Almon stood abruptly, striding to different shelves from those he had previously browsed that morning. "Saphienne has, in fact, crept up to the edge of a foundational magical theory. One of several competing theories, each of which describes magic differently. Where is the…" He squinted, and then pulled out a thick, slab-like book from a lower shelf. "…Here we are. 'Meditations on the Aether' is the title, originally written by High Master Elduin, some two and a half millennia ago. He proposed that spells being cast – and magical phenomena, such as enchantments – are not magic itself, but the point where magic touches the world."

Saphienne could feel the glow of her own happiness. "Is that what we'll be studying?"

Her master smiled cruelly, and set the book back on the shelf. "No. Not for quite some time."

Her eyes lingered on the spine. "But, why ask me to–"

"You weren't supposed to make such intuitive leaps after your first experience with the Second Sight," he answered, folding his arms. "Were it not for the fact that you're so transparent about your emotions, I'd think someone had explained Elduin's theory to you. No, Saphienne: while your conjecture is sound, magical theory comes after you have successfully cast your first spell."

Even Celaena was frustrated. "But why?"

"Why, indeed." Almon studied Saphienne. "Why did I let you explore this, Saphienne? Why watch you swim into these waters, only to drag you back to shore?"

There was the hint of more than antagonism in the way he spoke… and Saphienne searched his face for an answer, finding no clues. So she shut her eyes, thought about all they had discussed, and groped in the dark for the reason.

"I'll tell you why," Almon said. "It's because–"

"Because thinking about magic isn't the same as doing it." Saphienne opened her eyes. "Whether or not magic and spells are the same thing, seeing magic isn't the same as doing magic. So the Second Sight doesn't help to cast spells, only to examine spells that are being cast — which magical theories then try to explain. Neither can help us before we've learned how to wield magic for ourselves."

Almon stared.

Iolas and Celaena held their breath.

And Peacock, beating his wings, burst into triumphal song.

For all that his apprentice annoyed him, the wizard sighed again, even more deeply, and gave Saphienne a shallow bow. "Precisely so."

* * *

For the remaining hour, Almon explained how their apprenticeship was to proceed.

Each day of the week ahead, the wizard would be preparing them with an extended casting of the Second Sight, and then demonstrating a spell from one of the other eight disciplines of magic. They were to use the opportunity to observe the differences between each spell — and were not to try to understand how they were cast. Nor were they to try examining the underlying nature of the magic that the spells brought into the world.

"You must let yourselves feel wonder," he urged. "Familiarise yourself with the colours of magic, and how they feel to you. Such will be very important, for all that will follow."

During this time he would also be explaining the differences between the disciplines, as well as the limitations that applied to each. All of this was secondary knowledge to the actual casting of magic, but knowledge a wizard should nevertheless possess.

After that week was done, the remaining three weeks of the month were to be spent learning about how magic was organised and practiced in elven society, as well as throughout the world beyond. They were to be informed about the degrees of magic, what distinguished the degrees from lesser forms of magic, and how wizards and sorcerers should introduce themselves accordingly. He also intended to clarify what it was that made a sorcerer, and how he and his apprentices – as wizards – differed from sorcerers.

Throughout the month, Saphienne and the others were to begin to practice a new form of meditation — or rather, to apply their current practice in a new way. Every day, their master would be concluding their lessons by casting a spell, and they were to meditate while focusing on whatever they could perceive before the spell ran its course. Each spell was to be new to them, chosen from across all eight disciplines of magic.

"When all this is done," Almon declared, "I will present each of you with a copy of your first spell. Lessons will thereafter be held on only one morning each week, and we will divide our time between teaching you how to read magical writing, and studying all manner of esoterica that a wizard ought to know. Once you have learned to decipher your first spell, you may attempt to cast it: and you should busy yourselves with your attempts whenever you are not occupied with assigned reading or writing."

Celaena raised her hand yet again, but asked her question at the same time. "Is casting our first spell to be a puzzle?"

Their master grinned — gleeful. "It is to be a test! Most elves who have the talent of magic can cast a simple spell within six months. If you cannot do so after one year, the likelihood is that you lack the ability." He looked pointedly at Saphienne. "I understand there are ample opportunities to care for books, should such prove to be the case."

She bit her tongue. She wouldn't cede her dignity by showing anger to the wizard. Success would be revenge enough.

* * *

Peacock bid the new apprentices farewell as they left together, and the trio walked in silence toward the village.

Saphienne's thoughts were on the long road ahead, as well as what she would have to do in order to keep her place in Almon's classroom. She had done well, but if all the wizard had said proved true, her keen ability to think things through wouldn't be enough to master spellcasting. If she could master it…

…No, when she would.

Celaena broke the silence. "Thank you for letting me use your pens; I can't believe I forgot mine."

Saphienne nodded, still lost in her thoughts. "It's to be expected."

Then, inwardly, she felt as though Faylar were nudging her in the ribs, and turned to Celaena with a panicked flush. "What I mean is– we all forget things. Helping each other is the expected thing to do."

Iolas laughed gently at her awkwardness.

Celaena only smiled, shaking her head. "Saphienne," she said, mirth in her voice, "you really are quite an odd bird."

"No more about birds." She sighed. "Peacock was… too much."

Iolas laughed again, harder than before. "Celaena is just poking fun. You're not very good with people, are you?"

"Faylar thinks I just need practice." She gave them both an uncomfortable smile. "I… haven't had many friends. Not that I'm sad about it."

"No," Celaena said. "No, you don't seem like you would be."

Filaurel's advice to befriend them came to mind, and Saphienne stopped walking. "Actually," she replied, feeling unsure of herself, "maybe I should… work more on that. Given that we're all apprentices together." She pointed deeper into the village, toward the public buildings that lay at its heart. "Would you like to have tea with me? I have a favour I need from you both."

Iolas was curious, and nodded.

Celaena giggled, and casually took Saphienne's arm. "Sure, why not? And that's quite funny, Saphienne… because there's a favour I want to ask, of you."

End of Chapter 18