The Resigned Dilettante
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Chapter 97: Some nice tea
🕑 Added 2025-07-31 06:55:10 +0000 UTC[I suddenly realized while writing this that I somehow added a class to Malichi's schedule from what he had the previous week last chapter. It's just a minor mention, but it may turn out to be more tedious to rewrite than it's worth since I had made earlier decisions based on it being there. No major changes on chapter 92.]
“The boons of Trevali are most suited for students. In fact, we often get an influx of new students making contracts this time of year to complete that assignment.”
Well, I suppose that answers my question about if the sun priest introduced a new assignment to everyone just for me. Still, I will not be persuaded that he didn’t connive to be put in charge of my group. Moreover, it raises the question of why he didn’t mention Trevali in his list of suggested deities if they’re that popular. Or rather, it would if the answer wasn’t obvious. Trevali doesn’t have any physical benefit, and so wouldn’t give him any clues. Though if pressed, he’d probably say something about Trevali’s domain being similar to an aspect of the Sun’s, which makes them rivals and therefore blasphemous to suggest or something similar.
I took the opportunity after the research group to consult with the librarian priests about a contract. I vaguely know about the contract already, but it was slightly glossed over in the cult’s training due to not having an effect on combat.
I give the genial aged priest my own genial smile in return. “Yes, I thought that might be the case, but I haven’t entirely been informed about the details.”
“Of course!” the man brightens. “The boons aren’t very flashy, but I think rather useful. The main benefit is improved focus and memory, the latter being fully eidetic as a major boon. There are also a few minor benefits to help the physical toll of scholarly pursuit. Reduced eyestrain, more restful sleep and improved night vision for reading in the dark – the latter actually expands into reading by touch as a major boon.”
“…Interesting, that does seem rather useful.” The focus and memory are obviously great for schoolwork, but the improved sleep would be worth it just on its own. “What are the restrictions that come with it?”
“Nothing onerous, especially as you’ll likely be doing it anyways. You just have to read a set amount each day in pursuit of knowledge. About fifty pages at basic.”
“Ah…” that could be an issue actually. “Now, out of curiosity, what would the situation be if I already have boons from other gods?” Most gods just get stricter with interpreting the actions of the multi-contracted, but if there’s a number attached…
“Well, of course interpretation wouldn’t really come into – either you’ve read that many pages or you haven’t. So, in those cases, Trevali increases the required page count depending on the number of contracts.”
“And if say someone were to be contracted with two animal lords?”
“Something that minor? Usually only a hundred pages then.”
So doubled for the least increase possible. Taking Anar into consideration, that would likely end up as several thousand pages at the very least. Not really something practical to achieve each day.
It’s really looking like Palgia or a similar god will be my best bet. I only hesitate due to her being known for strict interpretations, but it shouldn’t be too hard to not destroy plants uselessly. Besides, while she’s hardly friends with Anar, she’s also less hostile than most due to most of her power coming from domain interactions rather than drawing people to her afterlife (supposedly not even most farmers or other plant related workers end up there). So, she probably won’t increase the difficulty an unreasonable amount.
Realizing Trevali is a dead end, I politely take my leave saying that I would like to look into my alternate options before coming to a decision, which the priest seems to react as if that’s common.
When I get back to the dorm, a letter from Greg is waiting for me. He’s found an event Princep Talia is supposed to be attending on the day after tomorrow. It’s pushing it close, but it’s on the weekend so I don’t have anything scheduled that I can’t easily move. I write back to Greg expressing due praise.
An hour later, a letter from Alan arrives. He also found a suitable event, but it’s in the middle of the week during one of my classes and he hasn’t secured an invitation yet.
Late, late and late. My face twitches in irritation at his subpar performance on the three counts. I thought being connected was his whole thing. I immediately write him a letter emphasizing that Greg has already found me what I was looking for. Then I place it in an envelope, seal it – placing a strand of hair in the wax as usual – and call Marcus to deliver for me.
A few seconds after I ring his bell though, I crumple the letter and throw it in the fire. Alan did his best, and it was likely only luck that he came in late. There’s no reason to emphasize that he lost to his old rival, especially the weight he gives our association. He’ll no doubt realize what happened, but no reason to point it out, especially as he’d know that it was meant to hurt him.
My mind wanders to Riley and our recent interaction, but I push it from my thoughts. Not because I’m adverse to comparing my reaction then to my reaction now, but because I just don’t want to think about Riley.
Marcus arrives while I’m still writing the more diplomatic version of the letter, which states vaguely that I’d found a different suitable event, but to keep his open if possible as a backup. He’ll almost certainly realize that Greg is the one who found it, but at least I won’t be deliberately causing him more pain…
On that note, why did I react that way in the first place? Did I want Allan to beat Greg? I had thought I was indifferent to who got me an invitation so long as I got one, but seemingly not. I don’t think I’m inherently adverse to granting Greg his boon, so I guess I just wanted it to be Allan who pulled through for me. Maybe because I knew Allan placed import on it?
I wake early to go with Lucas to his mage focused teahouse as planned. He tries to open conversation up about something political, but quickly senses I’m too groggy to give it thought, so we spend the walk with only minor comments on local locales.
The teahouse – named the Ontealogical Imperative – is the largest one I’ve seen, towering to at least five stories, all of which is finely decorated to cater to noble sensibilities (a tasteful dark red and silvery colour scheme on the outside with small marble statues anthropomorphising various Arkothan virtues alcoved in the walls). Lucas had mentioned filtering the wrong sorts out, so I would guess that the right sorts would be nobles who are also serious mages. There are a few patrons who I guess to be commoners by their less colourful attire, though still obviously mages from various arcane flairs.
The tea is far more expensive than any teahouse I’ve been to at a medium copper per cup for the cheapest, though it’s admittedly better than any tea from their competitors. Not quite as good as some of Allan’s teas, though that may just be a matter of taste, as they seem to be going for different effects. Good enough though to make it tempting to buy a membership which comes with both unlimited tea (non-premium only) and free use of the private partitions for only four medium gold a year.
Of course, the deal only makes economic sense if you accept the inflated tea prices (the partitions are also a medium copper, which is actually a bit cheaper than I expected), but I realize the prices are part of the filtering effect Lucas spoke of. The only people who would buy memberships are those who are either unreasonably wealthy or who are serious about coming regularly to study, and even most nobles would baulk at regularly paying seven raem per cup of tea without it.
The top floor lacks any walls, and holds up the roof via efficiently positioned columns. The private partitions are on this floor, while the free study area is on the roof. I think I’d rather have it be the other way, but this does have its advantages.
The building is oval shaped, so the partitions are in two curved rows facing east and west to maximize the number of slots available. The slots are about three quarters full when we arrive. I expected more to be in use given their relatively cheap price, but I suppose it is still rather expensive, and some do say there’s benefit to learning spells in a group.
Lucas has a membership so readily takes a partition for himself. I pay for my own and pick the available one with the best view of the imminent sunrise.
The dividers are holey, allowing light and sight through to maximize one’s openness to the world. What makes them private is the sound enchantments on them, which are a bit more complex than I expected. No sound is permitted from inside to carry out, nor is any sound from the rest of the building permitted in, but sound from outside the building is unimpeded. It’s an excellent balance between the separation and immersion which facilitates spell study.
Setting my tea down on a small table provided, I get to work on the remote sensing spell and make rapid progress. (As robust as they seem, I wouldn’t trust the sound enchantments for the liquifying beam. While I don’t want people to find out about the remote sense spell either, it’s less of an issue if they do.) I get the sense that the remote sense spell is tied up in concepts of privacy, and so the Eye treats my current situation as having synergy with it. I’m still a ways from completing it, but I think maybe it’ll be done sometime next week if I keep coming here.
Once the sun has fully risen, I go to meet Lucas in the social room, which comprises the entire next floor down, as arranged. When I see him, he’s already talking with someone else – a woman who, from the overly attentive smile on his face that I’ve seen so many give Allan, I would guess he’s enamoured with.
She seems perhaps a year or two older than us, with long straight hair, dressed in a dark grey riding suit and a short sword strapped lazily at her side. On her left arm is the school’s green band, worn in such a way that seems purposeful and stylish rather than in the haphazard attempt at prestige that most who wear it in casual settings do. Her posture is reposed, leaning backwards with her head propped up by her arm – hand by her ear, elbow on the table – smiling amused at whatever Lucas is saying to win her favour.
Spotting me on approach, he cuts short what he was saying for an introduction. “Ah, here’s the one I was talking about. Camille, this is Malichi Monhal. He shares a client with our family. Malichi, this Camille Windhal, our families are connected, and she’s been helping me settle into school life as our senior.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” I say with a polite bow, to which she responds with a frankly rude nod of the head made with minimal movement.
“Malichi?” she asks with a knowing smile. “Now there’s a name with an odd congruence of occurrence. You’re the new member of Vithal’s research group, aren’t you? Daniel mentioned you. I’m in team one.”
“They didn’t mention a hierarchy in the teams,” I say, wryly.
“Of course not, you’re in team two,” she smiles. “I jest. It’s very impressive for you to join so young.” Clearly, she means this as a self-compliment given that she’s not much older. “But didn’t I hear your name in another place? Ah yes, you’re the one who didn’t duel the Plimhal kid, aren’t you? The apologies you two posted on the nexus made me laugh. Never did like him. Our families would often stay at each other’s places growing up. He was so stiff and utterly boring.”
“Like any knight, no?” Lucas interjects, and we all laugh softly. After all, there are no knights here as they tend to train in different spots from mages in accord to their own needs.
“I can think of a few exceptions,” I counter in valiant defence of Ser Terry, “… just a few though.”
We all laugh again, and Camille speaks. “Well, it was delightful seeing him humbled. He would always emphasize the difference in our families’ ranks. Not like some, admittedly. But he would never fail to point out when I missed some formal little ritual that required a difference in behaviour as if anyone cared about that stuff anymore.”
“If only our disagreement were over something that minor. Sigh. Well, that should be over now anyways, and I really don’t like thinking about him. But I’ve actually heard your name too. I have a correspondence with a relative of yours – a Mae Windhal – and she mentioned you in one of her letters.”
“Aunt Mae? She was always my favourite aunt. Hopefully she didn’t say anything too good about me. Wouldn’t want to have to live up to it.”
“The mention was in passing.”
“I see… how did you meet her?”
“Oh, um… Gambling. In a card game against our shared client, actually.” I nod to Lucas.
“You gamble against your own client? That doesn’t seem proper, and I don’t even mean to knightly standards.”
“He wasn’t a client yet,” I say, a bit defensively, which causes her amusement.
Lucas chimes in. “The client only became shared in the past three weeks.”
“I see,” she says, “and how did the sharing happen anyways? It’s rather unusual for that to happen.”
Lucas glances at me. “I believe gambling was involved, no?”
“And blackmail,” I add with a comedic beat that comes too quick for me to reconsider the admission.
Fortunately, she laughs at the bluntness as intended, presumably assuming it’s just a joke. “Against the client or their patron.” She glances at Lucas teasingly.
“Just the client, unfortunately,” I say, realizing how absurd it would be to claim to be blackmailing someone while they’re standing next to you.
Lucas takes it in stride, pretending to be chagrined for our entertainment. “Well, as much as I loathe to leave you Camille, I did promise to introduce Malichi to a few others today, and I just thought of a few names I wasn’t planning on inflicting on him. I suppose my original list was a bit short. See you later, Camilie.”
The ‘loathe to leave you’ bit was obviously an attempt to hide the truth by stating it. Trying to seem ironic when he actually wishes to continue conversing. In fact, I don’t even know why he is leaving, other than a flicker of emotion. Embarrassment or chagrin, though I may have misidentified it, as I don’t see the reason for it from our conversation. The suggestion that I might be blackmailing him directly was at worst a mild tease.
As promised though, he introduces me to a number of interesting mages. About half are fellow students, and the other half are associated with the academy in some way – either as teachers or graduates. Unfortunately, I don’t have much time before my law class, so I excuse myself after about an hour.
I groan inwardly as I go, remembering that I’ll be sharing a class with both Ser Terry and Bart. I suppose I’ll have to lay down some rules to stop them from being annoying together.
