Граф Орлов
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In response to the carefully orchestrated display of wounded pride and satisfied vanity put on by Parfynor and Romeo, Marei simply stroked his chin and nodded, as if everything had unfolded exactly as he expected and, in essence, didn't matter. His thoughts had already returned to the previous subject. He had only superficially absorbed the information about the history test, although it would later cause him much anxiety: he wouldn't have time to catch up on the material, and although his overall level of erudition would allow him to write something, he would be dissatisfied with himself and his work.
In the afternoon of the same day, he sat at his desk again, pondering the previous question. It was naive to think that the solution would come on its own, but Marei firmly decided that it would be found today, and he would not go to bed without making a choice. He began with the method of elimination. After the healing, he discarded illusions: when he asked himself, "What is magic to me?" he immediately gave three answers. Independence. Power. Control. Illusions did not meet the first and last criteria; they were too abstract, too situational. They could sometimes be extremely useful, but in general, they were unreliable. And they were unlikely to give the feeling of power that "material" magic could provide. After that, with a heavy heart, as if he himself were throwing a childhood dream into a grave, he rejected elemental magic. Two directions remained, and the choice between two such similar schools, one of which promised the power to create matter, and the other to control existing matter, turned out to be the most difficult and tormented the mage for several hours. He was still very young, and therefore romantic, and the potential of the mysterious art of transformation stirred his mind more than any fiery vortex. But at the same time, Marei was already spoiled by life, and the desire for reliable, material gain lay heavily on his mind. It was long past midnight when, above a variety of scribbles on various magical topics, Marei drew a large black spider in his notebook, blew out the candle, and went to bed without undressing.
In the afternoon of the same day, he sat at his desk again, pondering the previous question. It was naive to think that the solution would come on its own, but Marei firmly decided that it would be found today, and he would not go to bed without making a choice. He began with the method of elimination. After the healing, he discarded illusions: when he asked himself, "What is magic to me?" he immediately gave three answers. Independence. Power. Control. Illusions did not meet the first and last criteria; they were too abstract, too situational. They could sometimes be extremely useful, but in general, they were unreliable. And they were unlikely to give the feeling of power that "material" magic could provide. After that, with a heavy heart, as if he himself were throwing a childhood dream into a grave, he rejected elemental magic. Two directions remained, and the choice between two such similar schools, one of which promised the power to create matter, and the other to control existing matter, turned out to be the most difficult and tormented the mage for several hours. He was still very young, and therefore romantic, and the potential of the mysterious art of transformation stirred his mind more than any fiery vortex. But at the same time, Marei was already spoiled by life, and the desire for reliable, material gain lay heavily on his mind. It was long past midnight when, above a variety of scribbles on various magical topics, Marei drew a large black spider in his notebook, blew out the candle, and went to bed without undressing.
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza,
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers