knot_theory
A man appeared in her open door. “You look busy.”
Had she left the door open when she was changing? For her sake, she needed to get out of her head. “Not particularly,” she said. “In fact, I feel profoundly un-busy at the moment.”
“I suspect you have yet to be given the placement test schedule.” He was shorter than her, though she was unfortunately lanky. He wore an unadorned, blue suit and a red oh, Vincent. Had she put on her red dress? Yes, good. It was her favourite.
“Your assumption is correct, but your conclusion is not,” she said. “Do you know the phrase, ‘you can lead a horse to water’?”
“No.”
“You can stab a princess in the back and drag her, tied up, away from her supposed friends, but you can’t force her to be a… puritan student.”
“You plan to spurn your education out of spite, then?”
“Maybe. I haven’t—”
“I heard about the constriction, that’s terrible! I’d hate everyone involved for doing that, too.”
Blink. “Thank y—”
“Well, no, hate may be a bit far, but I would need to re-evaluate my relationships.”
Blink. Was he telling her that she was overreacting? How would he know? What did Roe tell him? “Are you trying to get inside my head?”
“What? No. Sorry, I’m a bit nervous. You’re a princess! It’s mad.”
“Yeah, uh, what part?”
“All of it! So undignified, being tied up, dragged up here! It’s a good place to be, and you’re going to get a great education, and the magisters are all so friendly and smart, but you should be guided by a whole procession, and there should be those instrument things people blow into, and you should have a ton of guards!”
“…Horns?”
“Yeah, those long blowy things. You should have those!”
“You, uh.” Maybe only talking to herself and a mimic mute for a week had numbed her social skills. Or maybe it was just him. “Why are you here?”
He bowed slightly. “Vincent Whiteclaw. Here to help with whatever you may need while at the Academy! I’ve been a student for 6 years, and I gotta say, it’s extremely fun and rewarding!”
Instant concern. “6 years? Is that normal?”
“Oh no, most finish in 2.”
Blink. “Am I most?”
“I don’t know?” He smiled.
“Has anyone finished in 1?”
“Oh, yes, but they usually have prior education.”
“Has anyone finished in less than 1?”
“Well, yes, but it’s v—”
“Could someone conceivably finish by doing so good on the initial exams that there’s no class to place them in?”
His eyes widened, as did his smile. “Do you want to try?”
“Only if I know it’s an option, first.”
He left her to hang her clothes and read letters.
She began reading Anisa’s ‘Read First’ second.
Samanþa. I hope you had a good trip.
I speak benevolently when I say, you deserve þis. You should’ve been sent up to Norþpoint raþer þan Penbarrow all þose 7 years ago. Our ‘family’ is all too apt to put þe cart before þe horse wiþ civic leadership. Þe rhetorical and logical skills I amassed at þe Academy continue still to inform my actions, and þey will increase your confidence in yours.
You will be made to feel shame for what you did to Lionel’s house upon your return.
It is convenient, however, to get you out of þe country, to avoid assassination. You see, wiþ þe lack of a body, it’s suspected Quincy didn’t commit suicide, but was killed byAbout what she expected. Unfortunate that Anisa, too, was being eaten by paranoia.
She knew he had killed himself because he had told her, verbatim, that he was going to do so. He had given her a letter (as he was wont to do). Being a Day is too restrictive. Penbarrow is empty and worthless. It would be better that the ruler of Penbarrow be someone different.
She had run to the hill and missed him. She had considered jumping off herself.
And everyone seemed to accept it. But now there were baseless whisperings about assassins…
Maybe that made her feel better? Maybe her friends (not that Anisa was a friend) were just stupid, and not also malicious. Trying to protect her from an assassin who didn’t exist. One would think they’d send more than just Roe, then.
…Oh, maybe they sent a wagon of guards ahead and behind them.
She twiddled the knife from the bag and idly poked herself with it. Blood.
Shiron’s blood, she needs to get out of her head. She found a bandage and wrapped her hand.
“Yes, it’s possible!” said Vincent, “though there have only been 3 cases of it, and in 2 of those, they instantly went on to teach.”
“And case 3?”
“Don’t worry about that one.”
She closed her eyes. “What do you know about rope spells?”
“What?”
“Rope spells. Spells to manipulate rope. I was tied up on the way here, I don’t want that to happen again.”
Vincent smiled. “Maybe this should wait for after the tests?”
“Nope.”
“Ah… okay…” he, too, closed his eyes. “Are you wanting to target a specific composition of material, or the general class of items which tie you up?”
“The latter.”
“I don’t know about ‘rope spells’ in particular, but there are a few different schools of thought with this sort of thing. If you knew the particular material, the easiest thing would be to target its phlogiston specifically. Are there particular knots you’d want to target?”
“All knots.”
“Uh, okay. You’d probably want a more animist approach then, to grant the rope some sapience to untie itself. You’d need to learn how to undo all the knots, though, and give that knowledge to the rope, and doing so will be really exhausting, and if the knot gets hurt, you’ll get hurt too. If you knew the exact amount and location of force you’d need to impart, though, then you’d—”
“Why can’t I just turn my body into knives?”
“Pardon?”
“Or just, phase Four-Dee and move forward.”
“4D travel is inconsistent, so—”
“Or make the space inside the rope bigger than the space outside, and fall out of them.”
“Those aren’t really ‘rope spells’, those are more general purpose.”
“Alright then.” Sitting on the bed, she leaned forward. “Take all the general purpose spells you know, weigh them by versatility and speed of learning, and give me a list to start learning.”
His eyes gleamed. He laughed, smiled, bowed, and walked away.