“You poor, poor dear. I can’t believe you had to live in a place like that!” Lumina held Brin tightly against her chest, stroking his hair as if calming down a frightened animal.

“I don’t think I’m communicating it very well if that’s the impression you’re getting. It really wasn’t a bad place,” said Brin.

“No magic? You said there was no magic! What’s the point of even living at all?” she said, her voice choking with empathy.

“It had other things that made up for it. Electricity, for example.”

“We have electricity here, too. The tower has a line in several rooms. An oddity, with a few applications, I suppose,” said Lumina.

“An oddity…” Brin spluttered. “We have light in every room of every house!”

Hogg could barely move, so it was a surprise when the old guy reached over with a trembling arm to tap his enchanted lamp. It turned off. He tapped it again and it turned on. He crooked an eyebrow.

“That’s different,” said Brin.

“Well, you don’t have to worry any more. You’re in a real civilization now,” said Lumina, hugging him tighter.

“No. Hold on. No. This isn’t how you react,” said Brin.

Lumina finally released him, letting him move back to arm’s length. Her eyes looked confused and oddly vacant, which confirmed it. She was doing a dumb blonde routine. “It’s not?”

He shook his head. “You’re acting like this to put me at ease, which I really appreciate because I was frankly terrified of how you’d react when I told you this. But it’s not spontaneous. You, um… you already figured it out, didn’t you?”

Her eyes narrowed, her features relaxing back into her regular expression, one that bore her dangerous intelligence. “Oh, well, I suppose I did. I didn’t know all the particulars, of course, but I had guesses.”

“What gave it away?” asked Brin.

“Thinking back to when we first met, all of us were delighted to find the subject of our Quest. All of us except for the most perceptive of our group. Hogg was immediately suspicious of you; don’t think any of us missed that. And why should he be? Our Quest was clear that we should help you, and honestly I would’ve been ready to ignore nearly anything for the power in store that comes from completing a System Quest. I wouldn’t expect a [Rogue], for that is what I thought Hogg was at the time, to feel any different. And yet, he acted as if helping you were a matter of debate. Then later, he saw something in you that satisfied his concerns and all was well. That speaks to some kind of unconventional origin.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll have you know that a transplant from another world was only the third most likely scenario in my estimation. My first choice was that you had been frozen in time, and in second place, that you were a secret immortal. A secret elfin lineage, perhaps. Or judging by all the undead present, some kind of half-vampire?”

Brin felt his eyes go wide. “Wait, are elves real? And are half-vampires possible?”

“Only in stories to the first question, and no to the second,” said Hogg.

Lumina nodded. “Once Hogg pledged himself as your father, I knew we had nothing to fear from you. And when I pledged myself as your mother, I meant it. I will do whatever I can for you, regardless of how you came to us.”

Brin didn’t know exactly how to answer that. He couldn’t exactly tell Lumina she was his real mother now, because it would ring hollow. He had nothing against her, but there were some things that could only come with time. He finally decided on “Thank you.”

He scratched behind his ear as the awkward moment lasted a bit too long. “So you aren’t mad I didn’t tell you?”

Lumina shrugged. “You told me as soon as could be expected, and honestly I don’t think it would speak well for your judgment if you ran around blabbing that particular secret to everyone you met. Honestly, I wish you had waited a few minutes longer. I think I very nearly figured you out.”

“Sorry,” Brin said with a chuckle. “But it’s not weird that I’m basically an adult?”

“No. Even given your special circumstances and the fact that you’ve gained majority due to this town’s System Day rules, I can’t see you as anything other than a child.”

“Oh. Ok,” said Brin. That was totally fair, but why did his heart suddenly ache?

Lumina clapped. “Well, then. Your training. We’ll start with the Language.”

She left her spot on the sofa and then transferred to the floor, tucking her skirts under to sit in the lotus position. She gestured for Brin to sit in front of her, which he did. He kept his back straight, palms up on his knees, just like Hogg had taught him when he’d first started meditating.

She lifted her staff, and tapped the ground twice. Suddenly, everything disappeared. It wasn’t enough to say the lights went out, because that would imply that he saw darkness. Instead, his sense of vision was simply gone. He couldn’t hear either, or smell or even feel. The sensation of weight from gravity or the feeling of his clothes against his skin were absent. There was nothing.

There was a brief moment of panic, and then he felt something. Hands, grasping his. Then a voice, Lumina’s. “Don’t be afraid. And don’t try to pierce the illusion, please. That would rather defeat the point, and I’m afraid it’s not as strong as it could be. This isn’t my forte, it’s just a little trick stored in the staff. The illusion will help filter out distractions. By holding your hands, I’ll be better able to feel the flows of magic within you. Is that agreeable?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Very well. I’d like you to concentrate now. Erase every thought from your mind except for thoughts of magic and Language.”

“I can do that,” said Brin. He activated [Directed Meditation] and the anxiety and anticipation, as well as all the background noise in his mind fell away.

“Good. To start, I’d like to hear you say <Light, Emulate Dwindling Tarnish>. Put a tiny bit of mana into [Call Light through Glass], but not too much. As little as you can.”

He hadn’t known the word for <Tarnish> before, but somehow he could understand the meaning. Maybe because of the way Lumina had said it, or maybe the illusion she’d placed on him let him hear it better. He repeated her phrase in the Language. “<Light, Emulate Dwindling Tarnish>”

Even through [Directed Meditation], it was a thrill when he felt the magic connect. He’d nailed it on the first try.

“Hm. You haven’t thought about the concept of light as much as you have glass. That’s to be expected. We’ll skip that one for now. As for <Emulate>, I’d like you to think of connections, the way that emulating can form a connection between two concepts. Also, <Emulate> is a little more blue sounding than the way you said it. You came across as very yellowish. Try again.”

For the next hour, Brin repeated that single phrase, and Lumina corrected him. He’d thought his Language training with Chamylla had been harsh, but with Chamylla once he’d been able to pronounce a word well enough to put power through it, they’d moved on. Lumina was exacting in phrasing, pronunciation, and especially intent.

This was why they called it the Language, he realized. Whatever else it could do, it was all about communication, pure and simple. And with it, you could speak so much more than dull, primitive words. You didn’t speak the Language with your mouth alone. You spoke it with your heart.

She could read his mind, or perhaps hear his magic, and knew exactly what his intentions were behind each word. Once, he tested if she could actually hear what color he was thinking of when he said a word. She’d picked up on it immediately, and threatened to cancel the training if he didn’t pay more attention. After that, he put all the focus that he could muster into executing her instructions as perfectly as he could.

The training was intense, and after an hour passed, Brin’s brain hurt so badly that he found he couldn’t continue. Lumina was clearly on a whole other level than Hogg or Chamylla the [Enchantress]. The System agreed.

Through training, you have increased the following attributes:

Magic +1

Mental Control +2