Chương 14: Chapter 13: Encounter

Elizabeth reopened the book. The footsteps beyond the entrance continued for several seconds, followed by the scrape of a chair. Whoever had returned to the librarian's desk appeared to be settling in rather than beginning a patrol. That gave her time, though she had no reliable way to determine how much. She lowered the book onto the table and turned to the first chapter. The author began by rejecting the idea that a skill was a single indivisible act.

What users experienced as one command was, in reality, a sequence of smaller operations performed in a precise order. The System linked them together so completely that most people never noticed the individual stages. The comparison was familiar. A biological process could appear simple when described only through its initial material and final product. Glucose entered a cell. Energy emerged. That description concealed dozens of reactions, intermediate molecules, enzymes and regulatory steps.

Skills worked in much the same way. According to the text, every active skill contained four essential components. The first was an input condition. The System had to recognise an intention, gesture, phrase or environmental state that indicated the user wished to activate the skill. The second was a mana pathway. The skill drew mana from the user and directed it through specific channels in a controlled sequence. The third was a transformative structure.

This was the part that changed mana into heat, force, light or another effect. The final component was a termination condition, which determined when the skill ended and what happened to any remaining mana. More complicated skills added targeting, stabilisation, feedback control and protection for the user. Even a simple ability, however, required all four basic components. Elizabeth recorded the framework in her Research Log. It resembled both a reaction mechanism and a control system.

The input triggered a sequence of transformations, while feedback prevented the process from moving outside acceptable limits. If the transformation became unstable, the System corrected it or terminated the skill. The author had attempted to reproduce several Common skills by reconstructing those stages manually. The first was Warmth, a minor domestic skill used to raise the temperature of an object. Its mechanism was unexpectedly complex. Neutral mana did not simply become heat.

The skill first defined a target boundary, then distributed mana across that boundary according to the object's material and mass. Only after measuring those properties did it begin converting mana into thermal energy. The System monitored the result continuously, reducing the conversion rate as the target approached the intended temperature. Without that feedback, heat accumulated unevenly. The author's first imitation had cracked a ceramic cup while leaving the liquid inside almost unchanged.

A later attempt had overheated the outer surface of a metal pot while producing little effect at its centre. Elizabeth understood the problem immediately. Materials did not conduct heat uniformly, and a single external temperature measurement could conceal large internal gradients. A System skill compensated for those gradients automatically. A manual reproduction would need either detailed knowledge of the target or a feedback process capable of adjusting in real time.

The author eventually succeeded by simplifying the effect. Rather than recreating Warmth in full, he developed a weaker process that delivered thermal energy to a small, predefined area at a fixed rate. It was less efficient than the original skill and lacked automatic temperature control, but it worked. Elizabeth paused over the final diagram. The reconstructed effect had not required the author to possess a fire affinity.

Neutral mana could be converted into heat directly, though the cost was much higher than it would have been for someone whose class performed the conversion naturally. That supported one of her earlier assumptions. Affinity reduced difficulty and cost, but it was not always an absolute requirement. She turned the page. The next section concerned registration. A manually reconstructed process remained difficult to use because the practitioner had to control every stage consciously.

The author had repeated the effect until the System recognised the sequence as stable and allowed it to be registered as a General Skill. Elizabeth read the sentence again. The System could adopt a process it had not originally provided. Mechanistic Replication appeared to remove the need for that prolonged recognition. If she understood a skill well enough and reproduced it successfully, her class could register the process directly.

The book had been written by someone attempting to achieve through years of training what Experimentalist offered as a class function. The skill responded as she recorded the conclusion. Mechanistic Replication — Level 1 Relevant theoretical knowledge acquired. Replication requirements clarified: Identify activation condition Observe mana pathway Model transformative structure Establish safe termination Reproduce partial or complete effect Direct observation remains required. Progress, but still no target.

Elizabeth continued reading. The author's second reconstruction had been Light, which proved easier because it did not require interaction with a physical object. The process converted a small amount of mana into visible radiation and maintained the effect within a fixed region. The original skill contained automatic adjustments for brightness, colour and distance from the user. The reconstruction omitted most of them. It produced a weak white glow that hovered only a few centimetres above the practitioner's hand.

The attempt still revealed several important details. The shape of the mana structure determined where the light appeared. The rate of mana conversion determined brightness. Stability depended upon maintaining a closed boundary around the active effect. If the boundary weakened, the light flickered and dispersed. Elizabeth compared the description to the spherical light she had seen a laboratory assistant use. His skill had maintained a stable position above his palm while he moved between workstations.

That implied either continuous targeting or an anchor linked to his body. She added Light as a potential first replication target. Warmth might be easier to measure, but Light would be safer. A failed attempt was less likely to burn her or damage laboratory equipment. The following chapters grew increasingly dangerous. The author attempted to reproduce Minor Cooling, Cleanse and a basic Mana Thread. Several experiments caused channel inflammation when mana flowed through pathways the body had not adapted to use.

In one case, an incorrectly terminated structure continued drawing mana after the intended effect had ended. The practitioner survived only because another mage disrupted the skill. Elizabeth copied the failure conditions carefully. The central danger was not producing an effect. It was losing control of the process after production began. A reaction in a sealed vessel could be abandoned if necessary. A skill drew material directly from the user's body and soul.

If the termination stage failed, there might be no safe way to step away. The System normally prevented that. Mechanistic Replication did not promise the same protection. She reached the final chapter just after one in the morning. The author concluded that reconstructing lesser skills was possible but impractical. The time required to understand even a Common ability exceeded the time most people would need to acquire a similar skill normally.

Without specialised perception, many internal stages could only be inferred from failed attempts. Elizabeth disagreed with the conclusion but understood how it had been reached. The author lacked Mana Sensitivity, Mechanistic Replication and a class that rewarded experimental understanding. What had been an inefficient obsession for him might become a viable progression path for her. A sound came from the neighbouring aisle. Not footsteps. A page turning. Elizabeth closed the book without moving from her chair.

Someone had entered the section while she was reading. She listened. The faint scrape came again, followed by the soft impact of a book being placed upon a shelf. The sound was too close to belong to the librarian's desk. Elizabeth looked towards the maintenance grate. The route remained clear, but reaching it required crossing two exposed aisles. Moving now might draw more attention than remaining still.

She returned the book to the table and opened a different volume, arranging herself as though she had every right to be there. A girl stepped around the end of the shelf. She appeared to be fifteen or sixteen, with dark red hair tied loosely behind her head and narrow spectacles resting low on her nose. The silver edging on her uniform marked her as a third-year student, though her sleeves had been rolled past her elbows in a way Elizabeth doubted the dress regulations permitted.

Three books floated behind her in a slightly uneven stack. The girl stopped when she saw Elizabeth. Elizabeth looked back at her. Neither spoke for several seconds. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. The floating books gradually sank until the lowest one nearly touched the floor.

"You're very small for a third year," the girl said.

"I'm not a third year."

"That was my second guess." Her gaze moved from Elizabeth to the open book on the table, then towards the authorised entrance.

"Did a professor bring you in?"

"Yes."

"I didn't see a professor when I entered."

"I saw no one." The girl looked at her strangely.

"Well?" Elizabeth considered lying again, though a reasonable excuse as to why she was in the restricted area this late at night. The girl exhaled through her nose.

"You're making this more difficult than it should be." Elizabeth considered running. The maintenance grate remained accessible, but the third-year stood between her and the relevant aisle. Attempting to flee would also transform an uncertain conversation into an obvious pursuit.

"Are you going to report me?" Elizabeth asked.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you came here to read or to do something spectacularly stupid."

"To read."

"What?" Elizabeth turned the book enough for her to see the title. The girl adjusted her spectacles.

"Skill reconstruction?"

"That is the subject."

"You're a first year." Elizabeth saw no reason to confirm the obvious again. The girl placed her floating books on the table and pulled out the opposite chair.

"All right. Explain." Elizabeth closed the restricted volume. She had no intention of discussing Mechanistic Replication. If knowledge of that skill reached her father, he would almost certainly remove her from Crownspire until he understood how to control it. The academy might be interested enough to protect her, but relying upon that possibility would be foolish. Her class name was already public, however, as was its supposed Epic tier and research-oriented nature.

"My class develops through research," Elizabeth said.

"The first-year material does not contain enough information for meaningful progression."

"That is a complaint, not an explanation for why you're reading about reconstructed skills at one in the morning."

"I'm researching System mediation." The girl's expression morphed into an amused one.

"Why?"

"Because skills are central to almost every magical discipline, yet the public textbooks describe them only through inputs and outputs. They provide mana costs, activation conditions and observable effects, but very little about what happens between those stages." The answer remained close enough to the truth to be convincing. The third-year glanced at the open book again.

"And your professors refused to sponsor you."

"They did."

"Who did you ask?"

"Professor Lorne and Instructor Hale." The girl winced.

"Lorne was never going to approve that."

"Instructor Hale acknowledged that the standard material might be insufficient."

"But still said no."

"He advised me to develop the proper foundation."

"So you broke in."

"Waiting would delay my class progression."

"That is generally how restrictions work." Elizabeth said nothing. The girl studied her for a few moments, but her expression held more curiosity than suspicion.

"You're Elizabeth White," she said eventually.

"The Experimentalist." Elizabeth disliked how easily the class identified her.

"Yes."

"Epic research class. No recorded precedent."

"That is what has been announced." An accurate answer, carefully phrased. The girl noticed the wording but did not challenge it.

"What exactly are you researching?"

"The internal stages of skill activation." The third-year leaned over and read the headings visible on the open pages.

"You chose an unpleasant place to start."

"Why?"

"Skill reconstruction literature is full of people who believed understanding half a process was enough to reproduce all of it."

"I read the recorded failures."

"And?"

"Most of them lacked adequate termination conditions or failed to account for automatic System safeguards. Producing the initial effect was often easier than safely ending it." The girl's eyebrows rose.

"You actually read it."

"Why else would I be here?"

"You would be surprised how many students enter restricted archives because they want to say they have." She sat back in her chair.

"I'm Ruby Haberling. Third year. Applied Alchemy and Materials."

"Elizabeth White."

"Yes, I had gathered that." Ruby looked around the quiet shelves before lowering her voice.

"I used to sneak into this section when I was a first year." Elizabeth reassessed her.

"You were caught?"

"Three times. Once by a librarian, once by a prefect and once by Professor Saye. He made me clean glassware for six weeks."

"And you continued returning?"

"The first-year alchemy texts are written for students who might drink the reagents."

"They are eleven."

"So was I. That did not make the books more informative." For the first time since Ruby had appeared, Elizabeth felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.

"What were you researching?"

"Mana-reactive alloys. My original class was an Uncommon crafting class, but I wanted to understand why different metals responded to mana instead of memorising lists of approved combinations." Elizabeth recognised the frustration.

"They neglect to explain that purity, grain structure, temperature and previous mana exposure can change all three results." Ruby tapped one finger against the table.

"I followed the introductory tables exactly and ruined an entire furnace lining." Elizabeth considered her own experiments with copper and iron.

"What happened?"

"The alloy pulled fire mana into the support frame instead of distributing it across the crucible. The outer bricks partially melted."

"Were the metals impure?"

"Partly. The larger problem was that the copper had been repeatedly exposed to water mana before I used it."

"Residual mana changed its response?"

"Not only residual mana. Repeated exposure had altered the material itself." Elizabeth opened her Research Log and added the information. Ruby watched her eyes shift towards the private interface.

"Research skill?"

"It is."

"What does it do?"

"It records and organises information." She had enough detail. Ruby waited, apparently expecting more, then accepted that none was coming.

"My class evolved into Reactive Metallurgist towards the middle of first year," she said.

"I have legitimate access now." She touched the silver badge near her collar.

"Then why are you here at this hour?"

"The authorised hours are crowded, and the librarian dislikes how many books I request at once." The three floating volumes settled neatly onto the table. Elizabeth read their titles. Two concerned crystalline structures. The third dealt with mana-induced changes in metal. Ruby noticed.

"You really do read everything in front of you."

"It is there to be read." Ruby laughed, quickly covering her mouth when the sound travelled down the aisle. Elizabeth waited for the echo to fade.

"Are you going to report me?" she asked again. Ruby's amusement subsided.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I would be a hypocrite, and because you are simply reading. No harm in that. Though I would warn against trying any experiments here.

""I had no intention of experimenting here."

"Good. The preservation wards respond badly to unexpected mana." Ruby reached across the table and closed the book fully.

"You should leave before the two o'clock patrol."

"There is a two o'clock patrol?"

"There is now. Someone spent several nights sleeping behind the soul-medicine shelves last year."

"Was that you?"

"No. I slept in the alchemy archives." Elizabeth looked towards the maintenance grate. Ruby followed her gaze and frowned.

"How did you enter?"

"Through the western maintenance channel."

"You moved the wall panel?"

"I did."

"That panel has a pressure mark." Elizabeth turned back to her.

"A ward?"

"A minor one. It records when the panel is opened. The librarians do not inspect it every night, but repeated use will eventually be noticed." Alexander's information had either been outdated or deliberately incomplete.

"Is there another exit?" Ruby sighed.

"Of course there is." She returned Elizabeth's book to the correct shelf, then led her deeper into the restricted stacks. Ruby moved with enough familiarity that she rarely paused to check the catalogue symbols. Near the section on ritual law, she pressed her badge against a narrow door disguised as part of the shelving. A silver line appeared around the frame before the lock released.

"This leads to the third-year reading rooms," Ruby said.

"We wait until the upper librarian begins his patrol, then you leave beside me." They entered a small archive containing bound student projects. Ruby closed the concealed door behind them and sat on the edge of a table.

"How much of the first-year catalogue have you read?" she asked.

"All of the books required for my courses and the public introductory texts on class development, skill behaviour and mana biology." Ruby stared at her.

"How long have you been here?"

"Several weeks."

"You're either lying or very boring."

"I read quickly."

"Those are not mutually exclusive." Elizabeth decided she liked that answer. Ruby picked up one of the student reports and turned it over in her hands.

"The public curriculum improves in second year. Not enough, but it stops treating every mechanism as an unnecessary complication."

"I cannot wait a year."

"I assumed not."

"Are there unrestricted third-year books that cover similar subjects?"

"A few. Older students can borrow them for first years, though technically we are supposed to remain responsible for the material."

"Would you?" Ruby looked at her over the top of her spectacles.

"We have known each other for approximately fifteen minutes."

"That is why I asked rather than assumed." A brief smile crossed Ruby's face.

"Give me a list of subjects, not titles. I might recommend something public before you decide to crawl through another wall." It was not an offer of trust, but it was sufficient.

"Skill architecture, mana conversion and System safeguards," Elizabeth said.

"I also need more detailed material on how mana changes physical substances."

"The last one I can help with. The others are outside my focus."

"Understood." Ruby hesitated, then added, "Professor Saye keeps copies of several advanced alchemy texts in the third-year laboratory. He cares more about whether books are returned than who reads them."

"You are suggesting that I enter another restricted room."

"I am suggesting that you ask me before breaking into one." A bell rang faintly through the wall. Ruby stood.

"The patrol has started." They waited until footsteps passed the reading-room entrance. Ruby then opened the archive door and led Elizabeth into a wide chamber lined with desks. They crossed the room together and descended the public staircase. No one challenged them. Ruby's third-year badge and confident pace provided enough explanation for anyone who looked in their direction. Once they reached the main entrance, Ruby stopped beneath the exterior lamps.

"Do not use the maintenance channel again."

"I had already reached that conclusion." Elizabeth studied her. Ruby had offered an exit and potential access to better texts, but she had also asked questions and watched Elizabeth's answers carefully. She was curious, not harmless. Elizabeth would need to determine what she wanted before revealing anything further.

"I'll be careful," Elizabeth said. Ruby made a doubtful sound.

"Find me in the third-year alchemy laboratory after five tomorrow. Bring the subjects you're interested in, and I'll tell you which books are worth reading."

"What do you expect in return?"

"Nothing yet." That answer was less reassuring than a specific price. Ruby appeared to recognise the concern.

"I want to see whether your class produces useful research," she said.

"Most first years spend their first term repeating experiments whose results have been known for centuries. If you are going to do something more interesting, I want to read it. Furthermore, a like minded friend is always a plus!" Curiosity again. Elizabeth understood curiosity. It was not loyalty, but it was more predictable than kindness.

"I'll meet you tomorrow." Ruby nodded and walked towards the upper-year residences. Elizabeth watched her leave before returning to North House. Ruby Haberling was not a friend, and Elizabeth had no reason to trust her. She knew only that Ruby had once faced the same restrictions, had access to advanced alchemical material and had chosen not to report her. Elizabeth opened her Research Log. Under a new entry, she recorded: Ruby Haberling Third year. Reactive Metallurgist.

Shared frustration with introductory curriculum. Familiar with restricted archives. Offered access to advanced public material. Reliability: Unknown. She paused before adding one final line. Avoid disclosing Mechanistic Replication.