Eli's POV
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The days following my return to the academy were in many ways more, and less, agonizing than I had anticipated. It turns out most of the students who hated me were the crafters. I still managed to get ahead in my studies, with our group leader even cheering me on as I pushed through some of the course work. But the more bitter people were constantly making my life difficult. The only reprieve was during the survival courses as everyone was too busy trying to soak in every little detail of gathering those most precious of substances off of various animals and plants. But the rest of those lectures only lasted 3 days, the last of which we were now attending.
"That's all we have left lads, our time together has reached its end." The grizzled veteran said as he finished going over the diagram of skinning a naga hide.
"Know that how you cook these items and whatever non-magical items you add to them will only change the flavor. Anyone trying to provide you with a cooking 'service' for the animals' meat and products to increase their mana enhancement property in your body is either lying or ignorant. Only the mana of these magical resources will increase your mana capacity and abilities. All right kids, good luck and goodbye." He said as we all shook his hand on our way out the door. I had gotten a lot out of his instruction and not just from scavenging natural resources. He had, and by extension the Front, given me critical knowledge of this world that would be invaluable in the future, as well as the past.
Afterward, the days went back into their typical cycles. Occasionally, there was a food fight when some newer students came in or when a few were just pushed to the breaking point. The greatest annoyance was trying to get alone long enough to read the higher level books without one of the harassers seeing what I was doing.
A few of the casters got vicious, like Raymond or Desmond, but surprisingly most just flashed me a strained smile or gave me a nasty look but they weren't nearly as aggressive as the crafters. A few even came over to congratulate me on my performance. There was a tone in these compliments that I couldn't put my finger on but still rubbed me the wrong way.
But the crafters were testing the limits of my patience. They would 'accidentally' knock the food out of my hand, shoot me obscene gestures whenever the staff wouldn't see it, or annoy me during my studies with loud discussions to insult me in conversations laden with thinly veiled jabs at me and my appearance.
Joey and John were amongst the worst of these. John was always trying to get me in an honor duel, which always infuriated him when I refused. Unfortunately for him, his reputation suffered more than mine. People saw his motivations were tied up in his deviant past, which some had thought he had left behind at this point.
Joey was more of an annoying piece of shit. Apparently having those girls fawn over me and the scions call me to their carriage angered him so much that he would now pester me whenever a staff member was not around. A practice I was enduring at this very moment.
"So arrogant, thinking you're so much better than us. All for what? Because you got lucky a few times? If any of us here had half the starting resources you did we would far surpass your measly efforts." Joey said, his little gang of losers nodding in agreement. These were comprised of the students who didn't put forth any effort in their crafts. Why they seemed so much more offended at my success than the casters was a mystery to me but I had just enough social skills to not ask them.
"Well, I can't imagine what resources your talking about since I haven't gotten any goods from the Base since I enrolled here," I said defensively.
"Oh don't be coy, we both know your rich parents put you up with as many constructs and magical growth resources as you want. Who knows, maybe one of us could have made caster rank with all the money they wasted on you." Joey spat, his green eyes flaring in anger. A small round of agreement passed through the group.
"Enough, my time is far too valuable to waste on the likes of you," I said, my patience finally reaching its end.
Joey tried to block my way but he seemed unprepared when I just kept moving. He stumbled back and slammed into a bookshelf. A book fell on his head and left a small cut on his forehead. Then a burly staff member came by to see what the ruckus was.
"He, he shoved me. I was just trying to talk to him and he knocked me down." Joey squeaked out as he soft cried and his posse started spinning their lie.
"Yeah, Joey was just talking when Eli knocked him down out of the blue." One said, his fat jiggling as he recounted the horror.
"You need to relax Eli, just because your doing so well doesn't mean you can bully people." A man whose features were so rat like it was almost uncanny how his brown hair, mustache and goatee resembled a rodents pelt.
"All right, let's take this to the main office." He said as he corralled the lot of us to the big office on the first floor next to the cafeteria. It had a green square carpet with a single wood desk and leather chair.
I gave my tale of the events while Joey gave his. Of course, Joey's posse sided with him and at the end of the day, numbers count. I was to be given a warning with a period of one week's probation. But apparently I wasn't the only one who didn't like Joey.
"What do you mean I'm getting a warning as well?" He whined. His glasses nearly falling off his face as he shook in outrage. The older woman in the big leather chair got up. Her brown eyes and hawkish features taking in all of Joey's movement like a predator studying its prey.
"Don't think it has escaped our notice how you two are always apart until you think a member of the staff isn't in earshot. Trying to pull one over on the staff on our own turf. Do you really think we're so stupid that we don't know why your little group goes missing whenever Eli tries to study by himself? " She said, her foot tapping against the carpet.
Joey tried to sputter out some indignant retort but she just put up her hand, silencing him.
"Enough. My ears are hurting from your whiny tone and I can barely hear. I can only imagine what a fresh young pair like Eli's has endured these past few days. Everyone out and know we will be watching very closely from now on." She sat back down and started going over the paperwork she had been browsing before we interrupted her.
Joey stormed out while I made my way to the practice tower. Some things had gone around how I thought they would. Others.... didn't.
I had been cornered by the casters' parents several times and each time I told them I had just put forth my best efforts without any cheating. The parents would then get irritated at their children for not defending the family honor. A few looked like they really wanted to do it too but they had something holding them back. What was odd is that some of the casters would look askance at their parents before flat out refusing, looking at the surrounding students in embarrassment. The casters' parents were beside themselves but aside from several individuals their children didn't react negatively to me in nearly the strong manner I thought they would.
The only thing I could think to do was find someone to clue me in on this behavior. I found Jeff by the rails overlooking the crafting pods of the practice tower as he talked with Andrew. Andrew saw me approach and I could see some hesitation towards me in his eyes. But he left when I said I had a question for Jeff.
"Why are the other crafters attacking me so aggressively and not the casters?" I asked as I knew he witnessed some of the incidents and had told several staff members.
"Well, it's complicated," Jeff said, idly running his finger around the railing as his oceanic eyes tried to avoid mine.
"If it's the same here as it was back home, the crafting students are just told to make the best with the hand their dealt. When they can't measure up to the achievements of the casters, hey no big deal, they have a disability. The higher-performing ones are given pats on the head for their hard work while the 'real' mages do the 'real' mage work. And they were content with that because that's just how things are.
The big thing seems to be their parents were content with that as well, but now that they know their kids can accomplish more, a lot of them are coming down hard on their kids and constantly telling them they need to be more like you. Personally, I think a lot of its simple jealousy." He said.
I felt more than a little smug at that until I considered it from the crafters' perspective. The parents were making demands that were ludicrously unfair for an actual crafter mage. To make my equipment took so much trial and error I probably wasted months' worth of mana constructs if I had to beg them from the casters. Hell, effectively making the pressure sensors attached to the fire hammers cushion for the first time would probably have taken them weeks.
God knows just getting the constructs to 'officially' make the items, even with Jeff's help, was arduous torture. Of course, they didn't know about my cheating caster ability, and that's what's misleading the parents into believing they just need to squeeze their kids to do what I can. Some could obviously improve but my equipment was the product of a lot more than what 'just try harder' could achieve. Then my thoughts honed in on one particular word he used.
'Disability'
At this time, in this context, I could scarcely think of a more loathsome word. As I struggled to take this in I looked at the crafting pods again. Really taking in their shape and what I now suspected they represented.
"The pods are shaped like eggs on purpose. Telling us we need to gestate longer." I more stated than asked, as I realized what their makers' true message was. A slight jab at our very existence even as we worked.
"Yeah, this is a side to the magic community that non-magicians, even the parents of magicians, don't ever see." Jeff hung his head, saying it as softly as he could.
"So crafters are all special needs cases, is that what you're telling me? No one wants to be the one seen bullying the uppity defect? So they'll just grin and bear it as the invalid gets his precious moment in the spotlight?" I asked in a low growl. Honestly, I think I would have preferred their scorn. At least there was a certain dignity in being hated.
"Well, you clearly aren't a regular crafter. The scions asking for your personally made items is enough proof that even the blind could see it. But some attitudes don't just go away because of one event. There's also a.... bureaucratic aspect to it as well, at least for the parents and high achievers. When the military looks for promising magical prospects or the bigger mage associations look for new members, their consideration is only limited to casters and scions." Jeff said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible.
"Is that why the parents are so upset? All the tournament's glory and recognition, a chance to get their kid an easy ticket to the good life, got wasted on someone who can't even use it?" I asked with curiosity and dread.
Jeff just nodded solemnly.
"Why? My items would be great against massed troops or on long sieges, to say nothing of ambushes." I asked, managing to keep the indignation out of my voice.
Jeff just looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
"I don't know what you've been reading about military tactics but just clumping thousands of soldiers together isn't something armies regularly do. One or two Frojan casters would kill troops by the hundreds if we tried something like that. Outside of magicless groups like the bandits or in the cases where the ambient mana has been so badly depleted that magic has been rendered basically unusable, single large armies aren't used.
The labors of war are divided between two different tiers of fighters: the specialized mages and the regular foot soldiers who guard and man all the defenses while holding various points in the field. The regular men will only lead fights against low threat targets. Mages are the ones who push back the lines of the dozens or even hundreds of small fights as two sides fight for one objective or another. And these small teams need members who can fight equally on their own as well with their companions.
If the two sides are being managed even semi-competently they will have wind spells or mists going off at predetermined intervals to knock out any items the enemy might have. I'm not familiar with sieges so I can't tell you how that would go, but the last time the Coalition performed a siege was before living memory.
As for ambushes, you would probably do great.
But the bigger issue, regardless of the tactical circumstances, is that someone in the military hierarchy needs to be willing to take that first step to actually bring you into the fold and being the general who thought it was a good idea to bring on a crafter would draw a lot of mockery in the officers dining halls. Worse yet they could be punished for wasting the military's time and resources on a 'pointless whim'." Jeff finished.
Ah, peer pressure. When I was going over my review of magic I was looking at it through the lens of what is practical and possible in a purely technical context. I had neglected to consider what emotionally needy shits humans are.
There was a second of temptation. The impulse to gloat about how I can use all the elements and this 'mere' crafter was probably the best caster he'd ever see on this goddamn planet. It was so strong I had to stop the words as they tried to come up out of my throat. As did the temptation to show off an array of spells that would dazzle him beyond his wildest dreams. Apparently, crafters, as a rule, had pride issues.
I took a deep breath then slowly let it out. Whatever I was feeling, taking it out on the messenger wouldn't do any good and being a quadra element caster wasn't the kind of information you just give out in a fit of rage. The packet-switch crafting concept would revolutionize crafting and prove the worth of the trade the world over, but I wouldn't be in a position to safely benefit from its release until I was a fully-fledged mage and would not have my work stolen. So the only thing I could do right now is more of what I've been doing: studying and tinkering.
Wishing Jeff a good day I headed out and went to wait for a group to walk home with. Apparently mages-in-training got no special treatment in the classrooms. When we got to the dorms I went to head down to my home but was stopped by a guard who said I was wanted in the headmasters' office.
Coming in I saw the headmaster in a white kimono embroidered in waves of sapphires. His aid, an older man named Aki I think, was beside him arguing about something.
"What bullshit is this? Just take down the bounties? What is the Coalition thinking? That we should just give up on putting down the bandits." Aki said, his face red with anger.
"That's the current order. But we'll see if we can get it overturned in the military court." Tansen said, putting up his hands defensively.
This, of course, caught my attention. Bandits went hand-in-hand with government corruption. It was a bad sign that the idea of acquiescing to them was even being discussed, much less ordered by any branch of the government. Maybe they heard of my fight and brought me here to see if I would help clean house?
Tansen then noticed my presence and killed the rest of the conversation with a gesture.
"Ah thank you for coming. We have a small issue we need to resolve." He said.
"Sure, but what was that about bandits?" I asked.
Tansen glared at Aki, who looked away in embarrassment.
"That was some confidential information about an ongoing dispute," Tansen said evenly, his eyebrows still broadcasting his annoyance.
"We have been renewing the lost records these past few days and we haven't been able to get in touch with your backers. Where could we contact them to let them know of your excellent trial performance?" Tansen said.
I stood there going over the story I had previously prepared for situations like this. Well, the friar did say they have a lot of kids come down from the homesteads further up north. That was as good of an out that I could come up with over these past few days.
"I'm from a small family farm up north. My parents always said I was talented but they died in a bandit raid. I made my way down here after vowing to get stronger." I said.
Tansen looked at me with a considering gaze.
"Well if you wouldn't mind me asking, how did you manage to become a crafter?" He said leaning forward on his desk.
"My pops was always an adventurous sort and worked out in the woods out west a lot. Occasionally he would bring back some bits of the animals he could catch with his friends. After a while, I started going through my gestation. And, well, after my last birthday.." I tried to act like it was still an uncomfortable memory.
Tansen whistled at this story.
"Your father must have been very skilled to become a poacher. And you must have a great inherent talent to get this far on a poacher's scraps, no offense intended." Tansen put in respectfully.
As much as I detest his work in the arena, I have to admit Tansen had a charming and caring quality about him. Like you could just come into his office and he would put all of your problems to rest if you would just trust him.
"None taken sir, he did what he had to. Just like anybody else." I responded.
I then bowed and turned to go.
"Oh, one more thing. Good job on the guild assignment. I was told we may have lost several students if not for your quick thinking." Tansen said smoothly.
"I was just trying my best to help, not be a hero," I said humbly.
"Everyone is trying to help. It is the people who have the vision and will to set themselves up to help others who make a real difference. Good day." Tansen said before going back over his paperwork. I bowed again then went out of the room and made my way back to the house.