"Think they'll accept your proposal?" Im asked once Serena had left to send word to her guild.
Leon shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Even if they don't, other mages will use the patent. They'll engrave runes, use precious metals—prices will be high, and I'll get royalties. Besides, top-tier mages will custom-make their own pens. The market for luxury enchanted pens is small, but profitable."
Im smiled. "You've thought this through."
Leon didn't admit his confidence was mostly bluster. He was a programmer, not a businessman—his "strategies" came from novels and casual conversations, not real experience. But in Etho, where merchants knew little about mage tools, his bluff held.
"Master," Leon said, changing the subject, "I've been practicing my magic. Can you teach me something new?"
Im raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you try learning from my books?"
Leon's cheeks heated. "Most are theoretical, or formal spells I can't cast. I tried building a few, but the structures collapsed halfway."
Im's expression turned stern. "Stop that. Skipping ranks doesn't help—foundations matter. A second mana backlash could ruin your mental sea."
"I stopped when it got hard!" Leon protested. "That's why I only got halfway…" He trailed off under Im's glare.
"Mastering a formal spell means you're ready to become a full mage," Im explained. "It requires understanding, mental math, stamina, and mana. Many fail because they lack one piece—usually knowledge or calculation speed."
Leon frowned. "Can't you pre-calculate the spell parameters and cast it when rested?"
Im pointed to a fallen branch. "How long is that?"
"Four to five feet," Leon guessed.
"Be precise."
Leon stared. "Four feet three inches?"
"Stare at it, then tell me again."
Leon squinted. "Four feet two? Or four feet four? I'm not sure."
"Your senses deceive you," Im said. "In the mental sea, measurements are even less reliable—they shift, warp, change. Every spell cast requires real-time calculation. Apprentice spells are simple, but formal magic demands precision. You can't cut corners."
Leon nodded, then asked the question that had been bothering him. "If casting is this hard, how do mages maintain their status? They can't be that weak in combat."
"Once you build a spell, you solidify the model in your mental sea," Im said. "No more calculations—just a trigger, like a word or gesture. You can optimize it later for speed. Silent casting isn't instant, but it's unexpected."
"And advancing to full mage?"
"Solidify one formal spell as an 'engraved model'—harder than regular solidification, but it lets you cast it instantly with less mana. Some use advancement rune circles to stabilize their mental sea, boost calculation speed, and reduce mana cost. But it's not mandatory."
Leon perked up. "Is the circle expensive?"
"Not necessary," Im said. "Before circles existed, mages learned formal spells as their first magic. Talent mattered more than tools. I want you to try advancing without it—many believe it leads to greater potential. And choose your engraved spell carefully—it shapes your future path."
"I will," Leon promised. He'd save his gold for glassmaking and herb garden upgrades, not a circle.
In Wickham City, Serena handed her mother, Eunice—leader of Valoka Merchant Guild—a plain fountain pen. "He says this can revolutionize mage tools. Worth partnering with him?"
Eunice turned the pen over. She'd built Valoka into a luxury magic goods guild after her husband's death, leveraging her late brother's mage connections. The pen felt sturdy, wrote smoothly, and could be adorned with gems or gold—but she wasn't a mage. She couldn't judge its true value.
"Let's ask Mage Werner," she said. "He's an expert in rune engraving and gem cutting. If he approves, we'll proceed."
Werner's small castle stood just outside the city. A Bernaron Root Academy graduate with decades of experience, he rarely took guild work unless he needed funds for experiments. He greeted Eunice and Serena with a scowl—likely annoyed at the interruption.
"What is this?" Werner asked, taking the pen. He turned it over, confused. "A carving tool? The tip's not sharp enough."
"It's a pen," Eunice said. "Called a fountain pen. The inventor claims it's better for rune engraving than griffon feathers."
Werner's interest piqued. He led them to his study, dipped the pen in ink, and scribbled on parchment. His writing was fluid, elegant—far neater than his usual feather pen scrawl. "Smoother than feathers," he admitted. "No more cramped fingers from gripping quills."
He disassembled the pen, examining the metal nib and capillary structure. "Simple. Genius, but simple. Using conductive metals for the nib—you could engrave runes directly on it. Longer, wider nibs for larger runes… this could replace feather pens for scroll-making."
"Orlando recommended it," Serena said. "He's a white-robed mage from Bernaron Root."
Werner's eyes widened. "Orlando? He rarely praises anything unless it's truly useful. That old drunkard wouldn't waste breath on a gimmick."
Eunice explained Leon's proposal: a sub-guild focused on mage tools, 5-10% royalties, no upfront payment. Serena recounted her negotiations,怨气 evident but details clear.
"A child under ten invented this?" Werner muttered, impressed. "Mages are born, not made. That boy has talent."
He reassembled the pen, testing it again. "Feathers have been used for millennia. This changes everything. Mages hate sharpening quills, hate broken nibs. This pen is durable, rune-compatible, and customizable. The guild could dominate the mage tool market."
Eunice's hesitation faded. "You think it's worth the risk?"
Werner nodded. "Partner with him. But send a skilled enchanter to oversee production—ensure the nibs work with runes. And lock down exclusive rights to his future inventions. That boy will think of more."
As they left the castle, Eunice smiled. "Tell the child we accept. Draft a contract—5% for basic pens, 10% for enchanted ones. And include a clause for right of first refusal on his next three inventions."
Serena nodded, relief washing over her. The pen wasn't just a product—it was a chance to expand Valoka's reach. And Leon, the "child mage," was their ticket in.