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Might that have something to do with your brushes against your own mortality?

[sullenly,]

no, that was before.

Look, my dear boy, some of us are helpless by birth and by nature. Nothing we can do can eradicate that helplessness. You have a choice. Do you understand?

I understand.

[He sighs, gritting his teeth.]

It's just,

[he fights with it a moment before saying it, to his desk:]

it's not nice magic, like healing, or something people use every day, it's. It's meant to cause... anguish. Practicing it effectively means finding willing participants.

...or at least here it does. [let's not unpack that]

[ Charming. ]

And what, stabbing is nice?

You can practice it with wooden weapons. On dolls.

[He hunches his shoulders.]

I'm surprised you'd have a problem with me not wanting to use magic on people.

Why? Because I hate mages ever so?

[ That's said dryly, even though his feelings on mages are admittedly complicated. ]

When I was training, I was drugged and poisoned so that I could recognize the effects if need be. It's simply what must be done.

...well not no,

[since he's asking,]

--but also because it's not me who's dealing with the effects, it's whomever's volunteered to have it... visited upon them. You can't make a training dummy panic and piss itself, at least as far as I know.

So find another specialization, if you're going to be so queasy.

Right, and be completely proficient in it by the time we go to Antiva.

All right. Die, then.

Or I could ask for help, which I did.

I'm not completely helpless, I've been training in staves for over a year. But I'm-- ..I'm not stupid enough to be uncautious.

Do you think we have boundless resources?

No, of course not, but--

[he's starting to get tripped up now, his thoughts moving too quickly for his mouth.]

--but-- I’m, I’m a scribe. I panic in a real fight. Whether someone wants to kill me or— or I’m just in the way of them trying to kill you, I….

[He shrugs helplessly at his desk.]

I don’t know, she asked. I assumed she meant it. Any magic I cast would probably just piss off an actual assassin.

Edited (tone felt wrong!!) 2022-03-31 06:50 (UTC)

[ Dryly: ]

Having been a target in the past of your magic, I believe you could handle an assassin decently well.

[A long pause. Then, carefully,]

Do you want me to retract the request?

I want you to learn how to defend your damned self, Artemaeus. If you're insistent on staying on the front lines, then you cannot limit your skills to ineffectually waving a stick around.

[His shoulders are hunched, his posture tense. But he nods, once, staring into the middle distance.]

[ And Byerly feels the annoyance curdle further inside of him. Nothing he loves more than feeling like a cruel monster. But he bites his tongue and says: ]

Do you need me to arrange for a teacher for you?

No.

[Benedict shakes his head without looking at Byerly.]

I'll handle it.

[ He purses his lips. Then, he says shortly: ]

If I had the power to subdue a man without taking his life, I'd be overjoyed.

[Immediately filled with far too many ideas for what he could snap back in response, Benedict opts for none of them, forcing himself to think about it and, grudgingly, realize that Byerly has a point.

Ugh.]

I know, [is all he allows himself to say.]

[ He lets out a breath, and finally looks away. ]

Either don't go into danger, or know how to properly take care of yourself. Having my attention divided won't help me in my work.

[ Translation: I don't want to worry about you. ]

You won't have to look after me.

[He'll see to it, one way or another. If only being a mage were the free pass some seem to think it is.]

Well, I will this time. You're hardly going to learn quickly enough.

(no subject)

altusimperius - 2022-04-03 23:28 (UTC) - Expand