Chapter 2

Waver wake up after what-seemingly-felt-like-eternity-but-actually-only-two-days had passed. In his agony-induced-sleep, he somehow get himself tangled within blanket and sheet, and only his face was free. As a result, he now looks like a demented crossbreed between a mummy and a caterpillar.

/THUD/

And he fell off the bed while attempting to untangle himself.

"That shitty—"

It took him hours of wriggling and doing anything he could before finally successfully untangle himself out of that thrice-damned fabric. Of course he was cursing the whole time.

Sighing, Waver stood up and put hands on his hip. "Gre..t... I... run... detergent." He mumbled with hoarse voice as he stared irritatingly at the dried blood stains.

His body felt like jell-o and he want nothing but rest right away even though all he did was laying in his bed, screaming, and got himself tangle up it was miracle he didn't strangle himself by accident. His stomatch felt empty. He was hungry enough he felt like he can eat whole cow by himself, and his throat was hoarse he barely able to make decent sentence.

And a letter sitting innocently on his desk—wait, what?

Blinked, Waver reached for the letter. Hm? He didn't remember write one, or receive one in this week. He's sure nobody entered the dorm room while he... isolated himself due the screaming and tossing around. Perhaps someone send it when he was unavaiable? Pity the eardrums then... unless it was a familiar? But who would send him a letter? Not his mentor, that to be sure. That man could care less if he dropped dead suddenly.

Curiosity peaked, Waver reach out for the letter and read it. Wide grin slowly broke out in his face as he read further.

To Waver Velvet,

You have... an interesting "knack" for Magecraft, and thus have potential. Such latent talent if let un nurtured would be a waste. Therefore I assigned you a suitable mentor for your talent.

You may find him in Room XXX, Floor XX, Clock Tower Main Administrative Building, British Museum, London. Feel free to seek him at any given time, considering your unusual... situations, however I recommended you to knock in certain pattern.

Sign

There's no signagture, or stamp, but it looks genuine. And whether it was official or not, Waver was too happy to cares for such a thing.

"Finally!" He shouted in joy. "Someone recognie my awesomeness! And you said I have no talent? Ha! Eat your words, Kayneth Archie-Baldy! Hahahahaha-*cough**cough*cough*!" Waver winced at his throat. Oh right. Water first, laugh later.

Wait. No. Water, bath, dress up, get some sandwich, and get to the meeting place. First impression is all and he can't allow himself to be tardy! He had an appointment / interview to attend. If he detain it even more than it already was, what respect he might've earned would be chuckled out of window.

Seriously, some magi are more temperamental and whimsical than five year old spoiled brats. Granted they have something to back that attitude but... sigh.

How envious to be them. Can do what they want because they have money and connection. Ugh! Just you guys wait! Waver will show them, that even someone like him can outshine them if he tried hard! He will made sure of it!

~X~

This floor is lined up with High Class Mystic Code short of from Ages of God and other stuff Waver don't dare to touch because even if he were to sell his organs, he still can't paid the debt. He have to literally sell his soul to the devil itself to even made dent in the debt!

"Room XXX... Room XXX... where was it?"

Walking almost in haste at Clock Tower main building and the most exclusive floor... Waver can only dream of it seeing only the high class Magi can use this floor. Others have to be personally invited. Not even the Lords in Clock Tower can access this floor as they pleased. As far as he knew, only someone on par of Head of Fraction such as Bartholomeloi that ever use this floor.

And his soon to be Mentor is set meeting on this floor?!

He have to stop and do his best to contain his giddiness. Oh, Kayneth would turn green in envy if he knew. Waver would rub this on his face... once he was strong enough to do that without ended up as red stain on the floor.

"Room XXX... Oh! There is it!"

The door was made from the best of wood, polished to this level of perfection. Waver raise his knuckles and knocks the door in certain pattern written at corner of the letter.

He waited with heart beating fast.

Who is his mentor? Does he know them? Are they important perso—well duh! They can access this floor so they sure as hell is important and rank really high! The question is how high? And how their personality is? Nice? Bad? No, that's wrong question. Let him rephrase it. Was his mentor is stern person, or refer hands-off approach? Practice or theory? Sadistic? Lunatic? Or perhaps troll like certain Wizard Marshall everyone include Waver treated as boogieman's boogieman?

"Enter!"

Gulping, Waver turned in the doorknob and nervously enter.

The insides are no better than the outsides. Old, thick books that could make even Lords itching to get their hands on them lined in antique shelves that had protective runes drawn on them. The furniture are far than the outside, but each of them has their function. In fact, the fewer furniture and alarm means they could serve to their maximum potential rather than overlapping with each other and result in backfiring at worst possible time. For example, the painting of scenery there. At first glance, it was normal painting with little to no value, but if Waver squinted his eyes he can see runes and other old scribes formed the picture, basically declaring it as powerful mystic code with how rich the history those scribes contains.

The man who sat behind the desk, too, is no slouch either.

Clad in modern aristocratic look like the Twelve Lords, his mere presense was brimming with power. He may look like normal person, yet she was anything but normal. The verdant green eyes seemed to pierce through Waver's Soul, dissecting him bit by bit, weighing his soul against a scale. The silver hair give way for even more inhumane presence. Like he was no human but something more. Something close to magic. Practically breathe in it. And the shadows...

"P-P-Pha-Phantasmal...?!"

The shadow of that person... either it was due the lightning in this room, the chair, or other factors... made it looks like she has a pair of wings grow from his back. The fact the man had large painting of a devil holding chain over people souls and some beast behind his doesn't helped the image.

The man smiled. "Sit down." He said.

Like a puppet with its string pulled, Waver's body moved without his permission. His movement was stiff and no grace at all. Like a prisoner waiting for the guillotine to dropped and beheaded him.

"Oh, calm down. It's not like I'm going to kill you or anything."

/Snap!/

Like a breeze, the spell dismissed in an instant. The second Waver regained control over his body, he nearly toppled over, grasping for breath.

Since when he was under spell? How did he didn't notice it? The room was so silent he would've heard any movement, even rustling of clothes. And with how Prana seems to throbbing in this place, and spell being cast would be like an elephant in the room. That concludes the spell was being cast before he enter, and only affected when he perform certain action, as when he enter and looking around he was still under control over his own action but what—

Wait a minute.

"The painting behind you..." Waver gasped. "They are drawn using ancient scribes as foundation for the picture, wasn't it? Runes, Ancient Chinese scribes... then I believe that was kabbalah that formed the chain there... Arabic letters and Sanskrit also used to formed the human and the beast respectively. The shadow you cast was a catalyst to draw my attention to them, and thus cast the spell's effect on me." He deducted.

Waver blinked. Did he just... did he just said it out loud? Darn his impulses! He can't stop analyzing magic and picking them apart even if he want to! Kayneth had threatened to cut off his tongue if he can't control it.

But this man only smiled and clapper his hand.

"Brilliant. I guess it can't be helped as you has [Analyze] as Origin." He said. Voice cool as winter. "Indeed I do. As you realize everything in this room served double purpose. Decoration and security. Though this is the first time someone deducted them that fast." Smirk. "You were as interesting as Zelretch said. No wonder that old troll had paid attention to you."

If possible, Waver's face become even paler.

ZELRETCH take notice of him?! On one hand, it means he truly had potential to be great Magus as anyone Zelretch had taken interest, must be exceptional person either in term of prowess, skill, or personality. On other hand, Zelretch is notorious troll that everybody on Clock Tower and Beyond feared, especially when he was feeling bored because no fucking one knew what he would do. And he notice Waver enough to recommended him a mentor.

So yeah... Waver has mixed feeling at how to react regarding this information.

He decided to go with what he thought was safest route.

"U-umm... so... you are my mentor?"

"Correct." The man nodded. "But don't take yourself so highly. You may be interesting case, but I take you in because Zelretch recommends you and I have nothing better to do with my lax timetables. Otherwise I won't bothered with all political squabbles and Magi debates that, frankly, while amusing to watch, was nothing bore but glorified childish squabbles and waste of time."

Waver... felt like someone punch him in the gut. His pride was taking massive hit.

O U C H.

"However, since I already agree to this, might as well making it worth my time. Don't disappoint me."

"Y-Yes Sir!"

"Good." The man nodded. "Now tell me about your ability."

"Huh?"

"How am I suppose to works out with you unless I know what you good at and what you bad at? Last thing I want is to get some cleaning utensils and wipe what remains of you because you got the wrong spell or ritual to learn."

Oh. That made sense. No wonder he barely learn anything unless he do research himself. What was taught at at class, if ever, was stuff that everyone already knew about and at some cases, has no relation to personal skill. They had to do individual research and experimenting.

"Well... I am New Blood... in fact I am the third generation of my family," uh? Why is this guy snorted? Did Waver say something funny? Hopefully not about how shallow his family history was. "I had ten paltry circuits on weak Quality... and as you said, I had [Analyze] as Origin. My strongest stuff is observation and analyzing. I'm weak at..." here, Waver paused and ashamedly continued, "Well... anything more advance than basic."

The man tapped his chin. "That was... problematic case." Waver winced at that.

Yeah. He barely had trait of a good Magus. In fact it was a miracle he even had aptitude in the first place! But he has big dreams and he gonna see it comes true, even if he need decades to achieve that.

He heard Valueyeta lead Democracy Faction that takes all talents, even from new blood. If he stood out enough he might be able to joined them.

"So, what did you try?"

"Umm... reading a lot of book and try simplest spell of each. I don't know what I'm good at so I have to do lots of Trial and Error."

The man nodded, then smirked. "How about this? Say, if a spell or ritual is a puzzle, it means you were struggling to put them together, right? Always mistook one part with another, and ended up making things worse, right?"

"That or I had not enough prana to pull that off." Waver sighed dejectedly.

The shame of being born in infantile Magus Family.

"Then we will try it differently." Different, how? "Rather than put together a spell or a ritual, I want you to observe already-cast spell or ritual, and picks them apart."

"W-what?"

"You heard me. I want you to analyze a spell or ritual and pick them apart. What they did, where did they originates, the components and elements, how vital they were, the side-effect if exist. I want you to dissect them apart, like unfolds a mystery. Do you think you able to?"

Waver gulped. "W-with my Origin... I think there's a possibility but... why?"

Why, indeed!

The man's smirk was as if he was hiding a joke, or good stuff... for him, not so for Waver. "Just do it. If you can't do it from front to back, then let's try the reverse. Who knows after you understood it to personal level, you might be able to figure the most efficient way to cast it."

Ohh... that's... makes sense. Like a phrase "There's Many Ways Lead to Rome", if one method won't work no matter how you try it, then you don't force yourself. You find another method, or another perspective, that will work.

"I undersood." Waver nodded and pulled out a notebook and a fountain pen. "Where should I start?"

"Why don't you try to analyze this?" The man take something from the drawer. It was a locket... with yet another scribes make form of snake as decoration.

Letter Magecraft, huh? Waver should've know. The furniture here... basically covered in letters from various language—was that hieroglyph there?! How did that even fit?

Still, one thing.

"I never caught your name." Waver admitted.

"That's because I never gave it yet." The man replied. "Argento Ronove. Though you won't find anyone who know it, as whenever I appears, I would be under title The Scribe."

Waver never heard of him before! Heck, he rarely heard a thing about The Scribe he said he known as. But... there's no doubt Mr. Ronove was a High Class Magus, to know Zelretch on personal level, and able to use this floor.

...why did he has a Demon as surname, though. Eh, what the hell? Who cares. Not his problem. After all there's a lecturer whose surname is Flauros.

TBC