Chapter Seven

                                    

                                          


                          
Bo sat on his bed as Naena sat on hers. She was playing with the iron necklace, a glazed look in her eyes as she stared off at nothing in particular.
                          
"Naena," he said quietly.
                          
"They're going to kill me," she said.
                          
"Mages tend to do that with what they don't understand," Bo said. "Kill it with fire, if I remember correctly."
                          
"I don't want to die," she said.
                          
"Fair enough," he said. "That would require you learning magic faster than they learn magic. Which isn't possible."
                          
"Why?" she demanded. "Because I'm a woman?"
                          
"No, because they have a head start," Bo said. "They can read and write and do math, most of them have an entire library filled with recipes to reference and relatives they can reach out to for explanations."
                          
"Right," she sighed.
                          
"So," he said slowly. 
                          
"So I'm dead."
                          
"No, stupid. You need help," he said. "Like your roommate who's trying to get into Hellfire club which believes in being the way, not following. It'd be an example."
                          
"I'm pretty certain that doesn't count women mages," she said.
                          
Bo shrugged. 
                          
"I like the idea of Hellfire, that doesn't mean I have to follow their rules to the letter," Bo said.
                          
"And you study weird things," Naena said.
                          
Bo glanced at his books. He turned his attention to his desk and tried not to sigh as he turned back to Naena.
                          
"I study symbols and meaning," he said. "I know it's a little out there, but one day I'd like to be a spell mage. Means making my own spells, and you can't do that without understanding symbols and art."
                          
"Uh huh," she said, though she didn't sound convinced.
                          
"Mages have existed since the beginning of time, right?"
                          
"I guess?" she said.
                          
"Well, they have," he said. "Literature came after mages. Math came after mages. So, how did mages make their spells before that?"
                          
"Wasn't that also before the Seven and the bands?" Naena asked.
                          
Bo struggled to come up with an answer for a moment. He gave a small nod because he knew she was, technically, correct.
                          
"A wildling mage like you can use magic without knowing how to read or anything else," he said.
                          
"True," she said.
                          
"So, how do you make spells?" he asked.
                          
"I don't make spells, stuff just happens," she said. "I can stop the flow of magic and start it again, but I can't levitate something. I can't make something out of nothing or change the weather or summon a dragon. I can't do those things."
                          
"There was once a wildling mage who had a lot of control. So much that he wasn't found until he was forty. He didn't know how to sign his name, and he didn't even know what a mage was. He lived in this tiny little village up north near the badlands. You might know him. Grayford."
                          
"The last arch mage?" Naena asked. "No way, you're lying."
                          
"Not a word of a lie," Bo said. "He never learned to read or write. There is no grimoire or recipe book for him. His heir tried to duplicate what he did and was never able to. Know how he did magic?"