Around noon, the adventurers started to gather in the waystation’s tavern. The staff didn’t usually serve food this late, but they’d heard of their nightly arrival and kept some warm for them. After everyone had eaten, they set out again, this time leaving the trade road and heading east. After they had marched for half an hour, slowly getting back into their rhythm, Salissa walked up beside Edwin. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she inclined her head, signaling to fall behind. They moved to the side and slowed, receiving curious looks from the other party as they passed by. Finally, when the rest of the group was far enough ahead, Salissa started talking quietly.

“I’ve gotten better at telekinesis; it only takes maybe a second to link something now.”

Edwin nodded. “I’ve noticed.”

She was acting suspiciously inconspicuous, looking ahead at the path instead of meeting his eyes and speaking almost overly casually.

“So, I think I should try practicing something else, too. You told the deputy that flexibility was my greatest strength, right?”

“Absolutely. You still have a lot of room to improve in your telekinesis but adding something to your arsenal seems like a good idea. What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking that the shield would be very useful. If I had been able to use it during the fight with the direwolves, or the one against the stag, that would’ve really helped, right?”

“Absolutely.” Edwin repeated. “I think that’s a great choice to concentrate on next.”

Now, she absolutely should know how to use a shield. But if I’m correct, she’ll ask me in three, two…

“Right. So, I figured I’d ask and see if you had anything you would like to add, anything interesting that I might not have learned, like with telekinesis.”

And there we go. There is no way she didn’t learn this at the College. One day I’ll find out what’s going on, I swear.

“Sure.” Edwin said. “It’s been a while though, so how about I start at the beginning, just to refresh my memory?”

“Of course, no problem.” Salissa agreed just a little too quickly.

Edwin finally allowed the smile he’d been holding in to slip out as he scratched his chin in thought.

“So, shields. In its basic form, the shield is a conversion. It’s actually considered to be closely related to telekinesis, although scholars debate whether that relation extends to the magical side of things, or we simply group them together because they seem similar. Either way, comparing it to telekinesis is one way to understand how it works.”

As his mind was excavating knowledge that had been untouched for decades, Edwin noticed that more and more of Walter came to the surface. He really shouldn’t allow this to happen, should stay away from situations like this. The problem was that he didn’t want to. He had missed talking shop about magical theory, missed it way more than he had thought he would. And really, what was the harm?

“Both conversions turn mana into a three-dimensional structure that can affect the physical world, but that’s really where most similarities end, as the shield is different in all other aspects. First of all, it’s completely immobile. While it exists, there is no way for anyone, not even the caster, to move it. If you want it elsewhere, you need to end the conversion and recast it.”

“Secondly, it is absolutely impenetrable. Nothing can get through, neither people nor objects, fire, water or air. Any type of force acting on it increases the caster’s mana drain, though they do so only marginally. If you held an object with telekinesis and I pressed against it as hard as I can, I could deplete your reserves within minutes. If you held a shield of the same size, my efforts would hardly even register.”

“Thirdly, while there is some disagreement whether ‘shield’ should be considered a substance or a structure, it is the only type of magical construct ever found that doesn’t unravel when it touches another creature’s aura. You are still unable to create it inside an aura, but once it exists, my touching it would have little effect.”

Edwin paused in his lecturing and looked over to Salissa. The young mage was fiddling with the straps of her backpack while her eyes were unfocused, pointed slightly up at the cloudy sky peeking through the treetops above them. After a few seconds, she realized that he’d stopped speaking and met his eyes.

“With me so far?” Edwin asked, amused. None of Walter’s students had ever followed his lessons with nearly as much interest. If they had, he might have chosen to become a teacher instead of a researcher. Then again, their lives hadn’t depended on how well they understood his instructions. Salissa nodded, and he continued.

“The only way to break a shield is to blast it with disruptive mana. That’s what makes it so valuable: It’s the perfect defense against non-mages. Even then, a method that would instantly destroy any other kind of magical construct, like a grasp, with minimal mana expended, will require a much stronger blast to overcome a shield. What’s more, the caster of the shield can try to modulate it to match the specific color of the disruptive mana, hardening his shield against it if he does so quickly enough.”

“What do you mean by the ‘color’ of the mana?” Salissa asked, confused. “Isn’t mana just mana?”

“Yes.” Edwin said, smiling. “This is something specific to disruption, which is a different type of conversion. Theoretically, you can simply expel raw mana from your core, and it has the same, disruptive effect, but research has shown that by slightly changing it, the effect is increased. Nobody knows why, although the working theory is that the raw mana too closely matches the mana that the targeted structure is made from. So instead, you slightly change its nature without changing its properties, which is called changing its ‘color’.”

Salissa opened her mouth, but Edwin raised a hand. “Before you ask: No, the actual color doesn’t change. It’s just a name somebody came up with hundreds of years ago, and it has stuck ever since. Don’t think too hard on it. Anyway, we’re off on a tangent. This is about shields, not disruption. Where was I? Immovable, impenetrable, resistant against disruptive mana...”

“What about shape?” asked Salissa while he was gathering his thoughts. “Could I make a blade or a spear and impale a charging foe, like the stag?”

“Good question!” Edwin said. “And no, you can’t. It’s actually a highly fascinating topic. First of all, shields have a minimum size. The details are a little more complicated, but as a rule of thumb, a shield is always at least two to three fingers thick and half a meter in diameter. When it comes to shape, a shield created by conversion always takes the form of a round, convex surface.”

“Convex?” Salissa asked.

“Arched outwards. If you converted a shield the shape and size of my wooden one, the middle of it would be raised away from you. You can never make it completely flat, but you could theoretically surround yourself in a bubble. That’s what city shields do.”

“You can’t do that at all?” Salissa asked, surprised. “Not even with rituals?”

“Absolutely not.” Edwin said, shaking his head. “If you try making it smaller or thinner through conversion, you will simply not succeed. Either the shield won’t form, or it will take the smallest possible shape. If you tried forcing it with a ritual… Well, people did that a few decades after we arrived in the new world. Since then, attempting it has been expressly forbidden, as the resulting disaster was considerably worse than even a regular failed ritual and killed everyone nearby.”

Salissa looked shocked, and Edwin waggled a finger at her. “A good lesson for any mage to learn. Mana is the most powerful force there is. Either you treat it with respect, or those who scrape you off the wall will.”

She nodded solemnly, and having instilled a proper amount of fear, Edwin continued.

“Anyway, the last thing to say about that is that not only can’t you change the shape, you also can’t change the facing. The flat of the shield will always point away from you, and the curvature acts as if it was part of a bubble around you. That’s why the ritual room for the city shield is always at the exact center of the city.”

“What? I thought…” Salissa started, then paused, eyes glazing over in thought. “Oh. Oh, you’re right! I never noticed, but the guard fortresses really are right in the center, aren’t they?”

Edwin nodded. “Whenever a Pioneer ruin with a big enough city shield was found, the first thing built was a fortress to protect it. The cities were built around them after. In the beginning, our ancestors needed them to keep the Volarki away, and later they were so used to having the safety of the shields that they kept doing it like that. But we’re getting off topic – again. We haven’t talked about the how yet.”

“I know that.” Salissa said, failing to hide her eagerness. “The magic responds to the natural reflex to protect yourself, so I just need to envision protection, and…” She stopped, brows wrinkling. “Wait, that’s the same method that you taught me for telekinesis!”

Edwin grinned. “Yes. The telekinesis one is based on how shielding works. Most conversions have more or less of a reflexive aspect, but shield and telekinesis – at least, my way – most of all. That’s the most important benefit of the shield conversion: Once you get better at it, you will use it as reflexively as jerking backwards or raising your hands to block something – except, magic is faster than your body. If you’re good enough, you can block a swing of a sword or an arrow in flight before it hits you – assuming, of course, you see it coming.”

While he spoke, Salissa’s eyebrows had risen further and further, almost meeting her hairline by the time he was done. “That… That’s so powerful!”

Edwin chuckled. “And that’s just one small aspect of what a mage can do. A truly powerful, well-trained, and practiced mage can wipe out cities and armies single-handedly. That is literally what happened in the mage wars, and the entire reason why our current laws on magic are so strict. If you keep up training and become even stronger, in a year’s time there would be nothing I or any of us here could do to stop you from going on a killing spree.”

Where before Salissa had smiled in wonder, Edwin’s last words took the wind out of her sails, color draining from her face.

“I wouldn’t do that!” she blurted out, causing several of the adventurers further ahead to turn their heads.

“I believe you.” Edwin said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t help you. I just need you to understand the gravity of your situation, and the heights to which you can rise if you apply yourself. Normal people – like me – are limited, but as a mage you can do whatever you want to do or be whoever you want to be.”

Edwin thought of the Immortalizer and suppressed a smile.

“For now, simply start practicing shields. When we arrive at the next village, I can help you by throwing things at you. It’s easier when something triggers the blocking reflex. Now, let’s catch up to the others.”

Salissa nodded, and they increased their pace. Edwin studied the other adventurers, then smiled down at the mage.

“You should consider opening up to the other party, by the way. They know you’re a mage anyway, they’re just too polite or scared to ask about it. Trying to practice in secret will be a hassle, and if you keep yourself separate forever, how will you make any friends?”

She stayed quiet for a few steps. Then, when they’d almost caught up to the others, she mumbled “I guess.”