text: I blamed my tiredness.
  
  Even with my enhanced brain, trying to learn three new types of magic was hard. I probably should have spread the lessons out over the week. But I had wanted to try and get a basic handle on all three of them, and my wonderful new teachers all agreed.
  
  But they snickered as they did so, and I didn't pay enough attention to that fact.
  
  "Alright," I said after I wiped the ash from my face. Not quite sure how it got there. I was supposed to be making a shirt, not a medieval pipe bomb. "I think I've got the basic concept down."
  
  "Really?" Eadric asked, his expression hidden behind his rust-brown beard. "What have you learned?" the dwarf asked neutrally.
  
  "You bastards are going to keep hazing me for about five more minutes, and then I'm going to get angry and make all kinds of violent threats. You're all going to laugh and egg me on until I burn my anger completely out, betting that you can avoid my attempts to injure you until I'm completely spent of adrenaline. Then you're all going to laugh a little longer, congratulate each other, mutter some nonsense about how I'm a 'real student now,' and then finally start teaching me what I need to know."
  
  So help me, they kept their faces straight for another ten infuriating seconds. Then Weylin started snickering, Eadric let out a deep chuckle, and Karim wore that shit-eating grin he probably picked up from some forgotten corner of hell.
  
  I had caught onto their plans, and they immediately improvised a way to continue ticking me off.
  
  "What gave it away?" Karim asked, still smiling.
  
  "My current history with you bastards, the fact that you got me to write <Wes Malcolm is incontinent> while claiming I was scribing a shield spell, the fact that Weylin tricked me into spending five minutes singing a little nursery rhyme about being a flower pot instead of a speed song, and how Eadric has spent the last hour giving me detailed steps to make things that would either blow up in my face or turn out to just be a giant penis when I finished crafting it."
  
  "Still trying to figure out why you got so hands-on with those, by the way," the dwarf rumbled between chuckles.
  
  I took a deep breath and reminded myself that sometimes it's okay to hate your friends.
  
  "In our defense," Karim interjected, sensing I was at my limits and also remembering that I could throw lightning and fire without learning any of their nonsense, "our college is a firm believer in humbling a practitioner before real teaching begins, so that they can be built back up under a proper foundation. Your prior accomplishments are much greater than the average neophyte, and so we had to work much harder to make sure pride would not hinder your future learning."
  
  "I'd accept that explanation more easily if this had been the first time you guys pulled asshole pranks on me."
  
  "It really is a tradition at our college, but I can't deny your suspicions are completely valid," Karim said with a grin. "At any rate, we can start teaching you now. For what it's worth, you're already showing signs of being a quick study."
  
  "I thought you just said you wanted to keep me humble?" I asked skeptically.
  
  "Oh, we still have a number of plans for that," Weylin said cheerfully. "Now let's go ahead and talk about the differences between our three magics."
  
  "Shouldn't I learn one at a time?" I asked.
  
  "Yes." Karim nodded his dark, bald head. "And you will. But your comprehension now, along with your Challenger's ability to learn new skills quickly, should let us drill in the basics for now."
  
  "Got it," I replied, telling myself to stop being angry and to focus. "Shutting up now so you all can teach."
  
  "Good," Karim said. "I'll go first, since my magic will give the best starting point." The scribe-mage took a deep breath and began talking. "Unlike your Ideal magic, which grows stronger as you grasp a better understanding of nebulous concepts such as fire or lightning, our magics, commonly known as Art Magics, depend on varying degrees of two things: Depiction, and Intent. Their names are largely self-explanatory, but know that Intent depends on how complex your goals are for the magic, and Depiction is how well you express said goals.
  
  "For Script Magic, Intent and Depiction have to almost be equal. Just as when you're writing a letter, you have to say what you mean, and any misunderstandings impact the magic. Question?"
  
  "Yes," I answered, grateful he could tell as much by my expression. "What about those blue bolts and fire I sometimes see you hurl? Your opponents don't exactly get time to read your message before you kill them."
  
  "Good question—" Karim smiled—"and it gives me a good transition. Regarding Depiction, script magic can be fairly flexible. As long as someone other than the caster can understand the writing, and I mean someone anywhere in the Expanse, the spell will go into effect. So instead of using some ancient nonsense language like you've probably heard about in Earth stories, script magic is actually performed with a variety of written languages, both modern and ancient. The more languages a script-mage knows, the more effective he is. This is because different languages have different expressions of a concept. For example, in your planet's English there is a very general word 'love' that can mean almost anything. If you wanted to specify which kind of love—brotherly, romantic, love of a friend—you'd have to write more script. Or you could use another language that has a very specific type of love, such as your planet's Greek."
  
  "How do you know so many of my world's languages?" I asked. "I thought Earth was isolated from you guys."
  
  "The Testifiers specialize in creating interplanetary records," Karim replied. "Our Guardian Icon has routinely petitioned the Steward of Avalon for access to Earth's records and the ability to interview Challengers. Because of that we have more knowledge of your world than most. Now, back to the lesson. Performing script magic requires literacy in at least one written language and a mana pool, as well as a teacher to induct you into the art of spell-scribing. Unlike Ideal magic, innate talent does not matter nearly as much, just as anyone can learn to read or write. But like reading and writing, it still requires plenty of time, effort, and expensive material. Which is why, to predict your next question, everyone isn't a script mage. That's the same reason everyone doesn't learn the other two magics as well. That said, script magic is perhaps the most flexible of the three Art Magics because it can be performed on the fly, if you can scribe fast enough, or in advance, if you have already written a spell the situation calls for. But if you lose concentration or mis-scribe something, the results can be very bad. Picture writing the wrong word in a note to a friend, and then giving that word the power to hypnotize, turn someone to stone, or create fire."
  
  "That does sound very bad," I agreed.
  
  "Again, script magic is perhaps the most flexible, yet it probably has the least amount of room for error." Karim nodded again. "That should be enough of the basics to allow you to officially learn script magic. Now this time I want you to try again. Create illumination, using a word you know for 'light.'"
  
  "How much light do you want me to create?" I asked carefully. "And how many words am I allowed to use to create it?"
  
  "Excellent questions and I'm pleased to hear you ask them. Don't create enough light to blind anyone, and use less than five words."
  
  With that in mind, and not fully confident that they were done pranking me, I tried again. I pictured a candle-level light coming from my finger, and wrote the Spanish words vela encendida, channeling my mana into the air to create the script like Karim had shown me earlier. The words scrawled out in front of me, and then I touched my finger to them again. I felt a sudden, but small, drop in my mana pool, and suddenly there was a pale flicker of light from my finger.
  
  "Excellent," Karim said with a nod. "Good control, and you kept your script brief which saves time and mana. But isn't English your primary language?"
  
  "Yes." I nodded. "And I take it for granted. It's also a very vague and imprecise language. With the rules you gave me I needed to use a language I knew somewhat well but still had to think about what I really meant."
  
  The scribe mage actually raised his eyebrows at that. He seemed impressed.
  
  "That's exactly the kind of thinking you need to do this art. Well done."
  
  My mindscreen triggered, and a message scrawled in front of my mind.
  
  <The Challenger has learned the first rank of script magic, or spell scribing. Further ranks will improve casting speed, improve spell power, and decrease mana cost.>
  
  That had been my other clue that they had been pranking me. Outside of Earth, the Expanse actually bothers to tell you when you're doing something right, actually making gains in your body, or learning. After being frustrated with my lack of success in stopping my disability from ruining my life on Earth, getting positive messages that something was actually working had set my hopes on fire. It was probably the greatest reason for the work ethic I showed everyone here.
  
  Karim looked to his left.
  
  "Now that you've gotten a reasonable handle on the basics, I will let Weylin talk about spell-singing. And hope he does not spend forever speaking of it."
  
  "Thank you, Karim." The elf nodded with a toss of his long white hair. "Just know that I treasure the sound of your voice as much as you treasure the sound of mine."
  
  "The chalk my fingernails scrape appreciates the favorable comparison," the mage chuckled dryly.
  
  It was that moment that I realized just how much, and how long, these three ribbed each other. I probably would have noticed it sooner if I hadn't been their target for so long. In their own way, they were doing their best to make me part of their group. I tried to take that fact as a compliment. But it didn't work. Because my face still stung too much from the explosion prank.
  
  "Now, my lord Challenger, I will do my best to instruct you into the oldest, most complex, and certainly the most cultured of the three Saga magics." A couple of snorts interrupted the elf. He ignored them. "That of spell-singing."
  
  "It's hard to think any of your magics are cultured after all of the graffiti, teapot songs, and penis jokes."
  
  "Barbarian," Weylin sniffed. "But let us begin anyway. Song magic has much in common with script magic, but Intent matters much more than Depiction. The actual words matter much less than your desire for expression. Just as you do not always need to understand the language of a song to gather the meaning behind it, or to let it stir your emotions."
  
  I nodded. That made a lot of sense. Even though there were a number of songs that became a different experience for me after I learned what they were about.
  
  "In fact, your emotional state can completely change the same song's effect, often dampening it. An example would be to sing a song of calming peace when your mind is full of violent thoughts. You will get a diluted rage spell out of your efforts instead."
  
  That I had more trouble with.
  
  "Wait," I interrupted. "If my emotional state can influence things that much, how do I get the magic to work at all? Because even calming myself down before I sing should change the song's effect, right?"
  
  "It would," the pale-haired elf affirmed, "which is why there is another component involved: pitch. Singing the song in a certain pitch can cause your voice to sound angry, or calm, or sad, thereby controlling the amount your emotional state can warp your spell. In fact, sometimes it can even change your emotional state. Do you understand that idea?"
  
  "I think I do," I replied. Pitch was one of the ways we express our emotions anyway. And there were times when singing a certain song would change my mood, usually for the better. Worship in church used to be like that, in fact. But that very line of thought would change my emotional state for the worse, so I dropped it and focused back on Weylin's lesson.
  
  "Because it exclusively relies on your voice, spell-singing has its own degree of flexibility, because the rest of your body and focus can be spent on something else. In fact, one of the best uses of spell-singing is to make doing something else more effective or easier."
  
  "Like with your speed spells," I noted. "Or that word you speak that somehow enhances your arrows."
  
  "More or less," the elf replied. "Now I'm going to train you through a series of pitches, probably similar to what you learned on Earth, to modify your emotions and make guiding the magic easier."
  
  It turned out to not be similar to what I had learned on Earth, because I had never really learned to sing. I suspected my voice wasn't going to attract any record labels, but Weylin didn't seem too tortured by it. I took that as a win.
  
  This time, Weylin taught me the actual song, in elvish, for enhancing a listener's speed, and I felt the difference in adrenaline when I pulled it off. My mindscreen informed me that I had succeeded in learning the first rank of song magic.
  
  "Wait," I said, processing the effect. "Most of this seems to impact whoever listens. Can I use it to affect my surroundings when no one else is around to listen?"
  
  "That's the hardest application of song magic," Weylin said with a shake of his head. "There are a few songs that can shatter or damage certain objects, but their effects are very limited. Truthfully, only the strongest spell-singers can affect the inanimate. Yet there are ancient stories of making plants sprout up with your voice, or making fire answer your call from the ground. But your Ideal magic can accomplish such things as well."
  
  "Can song magic help me enhance other magic?"
  
  Everyone turned their heads and stared at me for several moments without saying anything.
  
  "That's usually a bad idea," Eadric said slowly.
  
  "Okay, why?" I asked patiently.
  
  "It's rarely been done, as most people only have access to one form of magic at the most," Weylin said carefully. "Challengers and archmages are the two exceptions, and they are both extremely rare. So the idea is almost never tested."
  
  "But you all have at least two magics now," I pointed out. "You each learned at least one of my Ideals."
  
  That was part of why I felt justified in getting them to teach me their magics.
  
  "Yes," Karim replied, also carefully. "And Ideals mixing with different magic has the most encouraging data. But part of the reason the three of us have not learned each other's magic is because records show that mixing two Saga magics creates at least as many catastrophic failures it does enlightening successes. The act is risky, and often without benefit."
  
  "It's also very, very hard," Eadric added.
  
  I wasn't satisfied with that explanation. Sword-fighting was often time-consuming, dangerous, and fatally unproductive for at least half of the people involved in it, but that hadn't stopped plenty of people from learning the art. Myself included.
  
  "Let's just hold off on that idea, and start you on shaping magic," Karim offered.
  
  "Agreed," Weylin said, backing away. "Eadric, you're up."
  
  The dwarf grunted, put away the pipe he had started smoking at some point, and walked over to me.
  
  "Before we begin," I said. "If you trick me into making another exploding penis, I am going to throw every stored lightning spell and fireball I have on me right at your beard. It will hopefully damage you enough to never grow hair again."
  
  "Noted," Eadric replied, sounding unconcerned. "Wasn't expecting you to think about those sculptures that much. Probably going to make that friend of yours unhappy if she ever finds out."
  
  "Friend?" I asked. "What friend? What the hell are you talking about?"
  
  More unhelpful snickering. I raised a hand that began to crackle threateningly.
  
  "Don't worry about it. We're just ribbing ya again. Now," Eadric said, rubbing his hand together. "Shaping magic. Not as fancy or special as the other two. Because it's for people who actually work for a living." Two sighs came from behind him. He ignored them. "Weylin spoke of using song magic while doing something else. Shaping magic is like that, except that you actually can't cast it at all without doing something else. The sole function of shaping magic is to enchant or enhance something you're making or altering. It's not as easy or flashy as making fire out of letters or hypnotizing a hundred people with the sound of your voice, but if you want a kind of magic that will endure for years or centuries, shaping magic is the way to go. It's the same with history. Statues, structures, and carvings have all lasted longer than books or songs of the same cultures."
  
  As far as I knew, that was true enough. I let him continue.
  
  "With shaping magic, Depiction matters a hundred times more than Intent. It doesn't matter how well-thought-out the sword in your mind is, if you try and make it out of cloth it's going to be hilariously ineffective and you're going to be famously stupid."
  
  "But my understanding of how that sword is supposed to be made matters a lot, right?"
  
  "Exactly." The dwarf nodded. "You have to understand the physics of what you're making or changing, and then you have to execute those physics as perfectly as possible. It takes a lot of work, and it's almost impossible to shape something in the middle of combat, but Shapers are some of the best craftsmen and engineers. They make a big impact on their communities because both their magic and their mundane skills last."
  
  "That actually sounds really useful," I replied. "But I've seen you use shaping magic in combat. Those carved statues that you threw, that exploded. How did that work? Statues aren't usually supposed to explode."
  
  "On that," the dwarf grunted. "Two points. One, I wasn't using shaping magic in combat. I had already shaped the magic into those figurines. Two, you're right, carvings aren't supposed to explode, unless you screw up on purpose. I shaped flaws into each of those carvings as I made them, and in a way for their construction to come apart explosively. If you're good, you can do that while shaping another effect into the carving to add fire, or extra shrapnel, or some other very bad thing to the now-broken carving.
  
  "But that takes a lot of time and materials, so it's not something you want to use for every fight. It's much better to shape something you use all the time. Like a weapon or a piece of clothing."
  
  "Can I use shaping magic to help me repair something?" I asked, remembering my track record with armor so far.
  
  "Now you're getting it." The dwarf grinned from behind his thick beard. "For practice, I want you to take that sorry excuse for a spear out and work on its edge a little. Try and shape an effect into it."
  
  I had learned the basics of gear maintenance by now. I tried to get Breena to teach crafting to me at one point, but that was when she threw up her hands and started screaming at me about being an overachiever and her not having any time off. It was one of the other reasons I kept spare skill points, because I couldn't shake just how important crafting had been in the last five online games I had played, and just how annoying it had gotten when I wasn't able to make at least some of my own stuff.
  
  But enough of that. I pulled out the militia spear some mysterious entity had awarded me for killing other projected Earthborn as well as a basic whetstone. As I ran the spear blade over the rock, I projected my mana into it in the way Eadric had shown me earlier, mixing my intent to have a sharper spear along with my knowledge of the metal sharpening process. <Keep this new edge,> I mentally imparted to the lifeless object.
  
  The metal gleamed brightly for a moment, then returned to its normal state. But Eadric nodded and grunted in affirmation, and a moment later my mindscreen informed me that I had gained the skill of shaping magic.
  
  This magic excited me the most. Script magic had a lot of useful tricks and song magic could be great in many situations, but if I had enough time and knowledge to do shaping magic, the possibilities were theoretically endless. <In fact…>
  
  "Hey, hold on for a second," I said, pulling a spare leather strap and wrapping it around a crack I could see in the wood, projecting my intent for the wood to not warp or break upon violent contact. A moment later the wood shimmered briefly as well. My mindscreen informed me that the item had been reinforced as well as sharpened. "Hah! It worked! This is really useful!" I looked back up at the three Testifiers. "No offense, but why doesn't everyone learn this kind of magic?"
  
  "Because not everyone likes to make things," Weylin said with a shrug.
  
  "Because others do not wish to be constantly asked to make magic tools by everyone they know," Karim added dryly.
  
  "Because it takes a lot of work, time, and money," Eadric rumbled at the end. "And it's disappointing when you realized the shaping effect you first figured out on your own isn't that powerful."
  
  "Wait, what?" I asked, looking at my spear.
  
  "For a good bit of mana and stamina that grows back at a much slower rate, you've empowered your spear to handle maybe one more violent blow before it breaks." The dwarf pointed at the band I had tightened around the crack.
  
  "That one attack could be the difference between life and death," I countered. "And what do you mean it cost me stamina as well?"
  
  "I mean the three Saga magics also cost a bit of stamina to perform, since they're not as innate as Ideal magic and because they all require a physical exercise of some kind. Wearing heavy armor or carrying a heavy load makes the drain even greater. That stamina might be the difference between life and death as well."
  
  "That just means I shouldn't shape anything right before a fight," I pointed out.
  
  "Yup. That's one of the basic rules." Eadric nodded. "But it's part of the reason people consider shaping magic to be a pain in the ass instead of an exciting skill. Especially at the beginning when you can't do that much."
  
  Fortunately, thanks to the video-game-esque nature of reality here, I could now spend part of the power I had gained from Rising to advance my knowledge of these three skills almost instantly.
  
  "But back to not combining magics," I said. "It still seems to me like I could enhance myself with singing while I was trying to work shaping magic, and then scribe some script into the item for extra effect."
  
  The three of them all sighed at once. A musical titter suddenly sounded out from behind and above me. Then, from out of a tree I had never paid attention to, Breena flew out and down to us in a streak of pink light.
  
  "I told you he'd come up with his own plan!" the spiky-haired woman shouted triumphantly. "Pay up!"
  
  "Sorry, what's going on?" I asked, confused.
  
  "They didn't believe me when I told them about your labor-based masochism," Breena said with a smug sniff. "They figured you'd pace yourself when you learned how hard it was to perform all three magics in one day. They didn't think you'd want to make the training unreasonably harder by experimenting with forbidden alterations."
  
  "But they said all it would cost was materials, mana, and stamina," I argued. "And I'm trying to save the world anyway—sorry, worlds, plural—so why wouldn't I risk discovering every sneaky advantage I could find?"
  
  "Because sometimes it's just good to focus on two or three things so that you can actually get good at something?" Eadric asked sarcastically.
  
  "I tried that!" I said, exasperated. "But this isn't Earth. These worlds reward you so much for just the tiniest bit of effort, and they even help you track your gains! And me being a Challenger means I learn skills even faster, so I hit my limits even sooner! Why would I waste all that extra free time?"
  
  "I told you he was crazy," Breena said with an even smugger tone. "But did anyone believe me? Nooooo. 'You're exaggerating, Breena! Wes doesn't have any kind of complex, Breena! It can't possibly be as bad as you're saying, Breena!'"
  
  She went through at least three different voice impressions, making me wonder about just how many people she had complained about me to.
  
  I was about to ask about that, as well as about how the three Testifiers were expected to pay a girl that didn't need to spend money on anything but processed sugar. Then I reminded myself that I had a kingdom now and I might need to look up on the whole currency issue.
  
  Then I heard a high-pitched feminine shout, and a clang of metal.
  
  "Breena!" I said sharply. "Is Virtus training the militia right now? Because if he isn't, we're under attack!"
  
  She turned slowly, instead of quickly, which meant that she knew what was going on and that it wasn't an emergency. Then I caught the guilty look on my fairy's face.
  
  "Breena," I repeated slowly. "Is there something I should know about?"
  
  "Um," she fidgeted.
  
  I heard another clang and shout, and this time I recognized the voice.
  
  My emotions took over. I immediately blasted myself with Air magic, activated the speed chant Weylin had just taught me, and bounded toward the direction of the voice.