The Hammer Unfalls

1.11 Stay Focus

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅

His mind whirling, Glim pondered the parchments and the dots his tutor had drawn. The magnitude and dizying combinations of the choices rattled him. And picturing whether or not Master Willow was disharmonic — or a lying obscurer — made Glim nervous.

Master Willow scowled. Perhaps guessing where Glim’s thoughts were headed.

“None of that even matters,” he said. “You aren’t going to be plying a single snowflake until you understand certain concepts.”

“More concepts?” Glim sighed.

Master Willow’s scowl deepened, which Glim hadn’t thought possible. “You haven’t the slightest idea. Follow me.”

Master Willow’s robes swished the floor as he led Glim up a staircase into a room stacked floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves. Row upon row of wooden bookcases, stained with age, radiated from the circular wall of the tower chamber like sun rays. At the center, a long table bathed in silver light stood near a handful of comfortable chairs, overstuffed, and covered in fine leather. These, too, were swathed in silver light. Glim looked at the ceiling. Huge, cloudy-white crystals hung from silver chains and emitted the glow that lit up the room.

“What are those?” Glim asked in wonder.

“Books, you clod!”

“No, I mean, what are those?” Glim pointed at the crystal lanterns.

“Ahh yes. Quite ingenious. They’re enspelled to soak up the sun’s light and release it throughout the day and night. Probably required three plyers to do it. An Algist for patience, a Phyrist for light, and Æolist to collect the sun. We’re a long haul away from cooperative spells. Now, pay attention. What was the last thing you said to me?”

“What are those?”

His tutor smiled. “Well played. I meant downstairs. You said ‘more concepts’ if I recall?” Master Willow sneered. “Well, look around. Whon-Grab’s acting Mage-at-Arms has been passing down this collection of tomes to the next for the last five thousand years. It is worth more than every single scrap of currency or goods in all of Wohn-Grab. I have read perhaps a a tenth of one percent of them. So yes. There are ‘more concepts,’ as you so eloquently phrased it.”

Glim walked along a row of bookshelves. Some had no titles. Some had titles in a language he did not know. Some had titles so worn they were nearly illegible. Of the ones he had any hope to comprehend, he understood very few. Essentiæl Mastery. Comprehend Thine Path. Sigils of Warding. Iwis’s Observations on the Fourteen States of Symbology. Stellar Pathways and their Absolute Lack of Portent (but Incredible Physical Insights) Volume 27. The Trilogy of Disharmony. The Neophyte’s Guide to Long-Term Mastery as an Essentiæl Buffer. Recipes to Feed the Body and Mind. The Memoirs of Horace of Hesselfun Valley, Second Edition.

“Not so fast. This one is for you.”

Master Willow handed Glim one of the books he’d just walked past: The Neophyte’s Guide to Long-Term Mastery as an Essentiæl Buffer (Updated and Abridged). The moment he took it, Glim got the impression he was but one of hundreds who had held it before. It felt threadbare, almost clammy, to the touch. As if a patina of candle soot and spilled soup had seeped into its cover.

“Have a seat. Read it out to me.”

Master Willow sat in one of the chairs. Glim sat across from him. He opened the book to the first page and began to read.

“Ack-nowleggements. I hereby thank…”

“Skip that part.”

“Foreword. When Master Phinneas asked me to provide a foreword, I was naturally humbled…”

“Skip this too.”

“Pre face. Those about to embark…”

“Oh, by Phyr’s wrinkled orbs! Let me see that.” Master Willow snatched the book and thumbed to a section many pages deep. He handed it back. “Start here.”

Glim started reading the selected page. “Chapter One. The concept of drain is critical for any plyer to understand. Overuse of essentiæ eventually cripples each of us. Usually temporarily, sometimes permanently. Of all the strategies to mit, um, mit-i-gate drain, long term mastery is one of the surest buffers we have. This book will provide a detailed explan-shun of the following concepts: what is long term mastery? How does long term mastery mit-i-gate drain? What are ideal selections or ineffective choices for passtimes to help confront drain? Cry-tear-ia of a successful strategy. In-vokking long term mastery in the moment. Advanced strategies for—”

Master Willow took the book away. He leaned forward, eyes glittering in the silvery light.

“I know what this book says.” He snapped it shut with a dramatic flourish. The sound echoed around the chamber.

Master Willow sat back in his chair and placed the book in his lap. “This can go one of two ways,” he said. His ever-present scowl deeped the shadows in his face. “I can orient you to a topic, give you a huge book to study, and you can spend a few days in this chair reading it while I quiz you on your comprehension. Or you can trust that I know what I’m doing, we can skip all that, and you can simply listen to what I have to say.”

“I’m sorry, Master Willow.”

“It’s fine,” he said, in a tone that suggested it wasn’t fine at all. “As I said, this is all a bit overwhelming. You cannot ply until you understand these concepts. Otherwise, your tenure as a mage will be short-lived.”

“What is the next concept?”

“The one you’ve just been reading about. Long-term mastery. You cannot ply effectively unless you are in the right frame of mind. There’s no need to be concerned about the core polarities right now. None of it makes any difference if you aren’t in the state of mind to be plying. That is the first thing we’re going to focus on. How to hone your intent. How to calm your mind and body, and provide the right environment for you to ply. I’m sure you’ve done things accidentally? Take your father, for example. I believe he sneezes snowflakes?”

Glim giggled at the sudden image.

“I’ve watched you closely for such signs, but your essentiæ don’t seem keen on expressing themselves. Not physically at least.”

Master Willow tapped his temple with a fingertip. “But mentally? Your mind constantly creates gloomy, depressing scenarios. You’re obsessed with the macabre. I’ve heard your focus. I’ve discerned where your mind dwells. That’s the sign that you’re a plyer of algidon. Where you a Phyrist, your thoughts would dwell in the uplifting or the artistic. If you plyed aeolia, your thoughts would dwell in ambition and harmony. So assuming you do have the capacity to sneeze snowflakes, we need to give you the best chance at success. That means mindfulness in the moment, but also giving yourself a long-term edge.”

“What kind of edge?”

“You need to start learning a skill. Any skill. It doesn’t matter much. The important thing is that it gives you a sense of accomplishment. When you think back on how many years you’ve done it, and how far you’ve come, it fills you with a sense of well-earned pride. When people laud your accomplishments, you store their praise in your mind. So you can recall it later in your time of need.”

“What time of need?”

Master Willow sighed and sunk back in his chair, a faraway look in his eyes.

“There will be a time, probably many times, that you question your own worth. You’ll long to give up. When such thoughts overwhelm you, you’re in imminent danger of drain. Your mind will eat away at itself. Without some form of defense, you will tip over the edge into the chasm of worthlessness. Long-term-mastery is that defense. An obvious sign of your self-worth that none can deny. Not even yourself. When you confront yourself with proof that you’ve accomplished things, the self-doubt has much less sting. Your mind is not as able to eat away at itself.”

“You’re saying that I have to get good at something so I can tell myself to bugger off later?”

“Just so,” Master Willow said, smiling.

It made sense. Which was irritating. Glim had hoped that Master Willow would quickly prove how full of dung he really was. But the more he talked, the more Glim had to admit the man knew what he was talking about.

Glim felt intimidated by the choice of what hobby to begin for long term mastery. “What should I pick?”

“My dear boy. There are myriad possibilities.”

“What did you pick?”

“I’m quite adept at falconry.”

“What is that?”

“I’ve trained birds-of-prey to hunt for me. They bring back rabbits for the stewpot, and such. It takes years of dedication to get it right.”

“How ’bout I pick swordplay, then?”

Master Willow leaned back in his chair, pondering. “In ordinary circumstances, that would be an excellent choice. But for you, I fear it is not. You’re being trained in the sword by your father. When the darkness of drain comes for you, your mind will undermine that training. It will say things like ‘of course you’re good with a sword. Your father is captain of the guard.’ No. You need something undeniably yours, and yours alone.”

“What are some choices?” Glim asked.

“The list is endless. Archery. Weaving. Parchment making. Tracking prey. Astronomy. Painting. Whittling.”

“I don’t know any of those things.”

“Not at first, you won’t. That’s the point. Over time, your skills build, and you can look back at your accomplishments with a sense of pride. It builds confidence.”

Glim thought back over the last few days, and even further back. Neither archery nor folding paper interested him. But spheres that radiated light, or trinkets that manipulated essentiæ? Or arenas that hummed with silver light as Master Willow demonstrated plying? Those devices captivated him. The sheer ingenuity of their creation impressed Glim more than anything he’d ever seen.

And he’d need just that kind of knowledge if he wished to get an edge over Master Willow. The man knew too much. Glim couldn’t possibly match it. His mother wasn’t around to help. Somehow, Glim suspected it would be up to him, and him alone, to overcome this training and get back to his own life.

“I want to learn the Elderkin devices,” he said.

“Starting small, I see?” Master Willow snorted. Glim watched the gears whirl in his tutor’s mind. “Fine, boy. That’s fine. I could use another hand cataloging the items for the trinket seekers.”

Master Willow had turned things to his advantage yet again. But Glim didn’t mind. If he got to do something else for a change, learn his own skills, his tutor’s selfishness was worth it.

Master Willow walked over to a shelf, pulled out a small cylinder, and tossed it to Glim.

“There are thousands of these laying around. We don’t know what they do. You can start by studying this.”

Glim palmed the heavy brass cylinder with a single symbol engraved into its surface. It was as good a place to start as any.