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[credere]

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[credere]

Credence materialises at the door, eyes wide, face blanched, because he has absolutely no experience of differentiating between joy and panic.

"Quentin? Wh-what is it?"

[magician_king]

"You did it."

And now Credence will have to deal with Quentin forgetting himself, throwing his arms around his neck as he explains.

"My magic!"

[credere]

That Credence is, perhaps unexpectedly, very weak to hugs will come across instantly: his shoulders drop and his arms come up around Quentin almost in spite of himself.

"...The Admiral gave it back to you?"

[magician_king]

"Yeah."

He agrees, hanging on tight.

"Mick did ask. And it came. Credence."

[credere]

"I - I'm pleased for you," he says quietly, and after a jarring moment he realises it's actually true. Happy might be a stretch, but Quentin has something he very obviously needs, and that...

It should be horrifying that something so dangerous and so potentially destructive has become such a fundamental part of Quentin's identity. He should be flinching away. But he's not. It's pleasing to him.

[magician_king]

"Let me in, I'm going to smash everything then put it back together."

He says, pulling back from the hug; don't let him in, Credence.

[credere]

Credence lets him in.

He's assuming he doesn't mean it.

Also, he doesn't have very much stuff.

"There are probably things that need fixing," he mumbles, but he means at work, not the perfectly functional objects in his room.

[magician_king]

"Did you keep Annie's books?"

It's been a little while now, but if he still has them, Quentin can do something about them.

[credere]

He shakes his head, his face falling under the weight of his guilt.

"Mr Scamander asked about them too. I - I threw them away."

[magician_king]

"Do you have anything that is broken?"

He asks, more gently, turning back to look at him. It always feels best when he is setting something right that needs setting.

[credere]

"Um - the window," Credence says, then frowns at the boarded-up frame. "But some of the glass is missing."

[magician_king]

"That's fine."

He says, moving towards it, and asking;

"So, tell me your news?" While he looks around for something to get the boards off with, then, pauses; "Want to try your first spell? Bujold's Sorcerous Nail Extraction is a classic."

[credere]

Credence looks, inevitably, rather startled.

"I - I don't have a wand."

[magician_king]

"Wands channel and clarify magic."

He explains;

"Powerful wizards- or in my world, extremely competent magicians- can do magic without using them. And since you're full to the brim, it makes way more sense to start you without one. If you used a wand to cast a lumos, for light, my current theory is you might start a small fire right now. If you use your hands and your mind to pull out the nails in this window- there's a small chance we'll get some weird side effects, but it's way less risky. Also- about nine billion times more work, though, fair warning."

[credere]

The words small fire and weird side effects and less risky make Credence shrink in on himself like he can hide from the mere possibility.

"I don't think I should."

[magician_king]

"Okay."

Says Quentin, remembering how little pressure it takes to twist Credence's arm.

"Let's go get a hammer, and I'll tell you enough about magical theory that you can make an educated decision about if you'd like to begin, where, and how. This is what I used to do. I taught first year students at my old school."

[credere]

It's this, strangely or not, which Credence finds reassuring. He knows he should have gone to a wizards' school, and he didn't, because by the age of eleven he was already harbouring an abomination against nature. If Quentin was a teacher, that gives him a level of authority above and beyond being merely a magician.

But for now they need to go to the equipment room and get a hammer, so he goes to get the door.

"What if I can't do your magic? Because we're from different places?"

[magician_king]

"That is a possibility."

He admits, readily.

"Magic isn't consistent from world to world, from body to body, not exactly. It's even possible you'll be able to do about half of the spells from my world, or every first, first, second, third, fifth one. But this is still a useful exercise, because what we're going to do together is spend a little time analyzing the system, and wherever you go after life on the barge, you'll be able to turn this way of thinking critically about power on your new environment, and find your way in your world."

[credere]

Credence understood the first half of that and then got lost, but admitting that he doesn't understand something has historically been a good way to get slapped. So he just nods.

"Yes, alright."

They move onto the stairwell, heading down.

[magician_king]

"So. When we start thinking about magic, we need to think about the world in general, first. Our reality exists around us with a kind of baseline. There are normal things, substances that behave consistently, and there are normal properties- rules that govern those behaviours."

He says, as they trot down the stairs.

"These are things like- the way clouds are made. Or how water boils, and then becomes steam. How a bird is able to fly. You remember that- the lift of air under a goose's wing."

[credere]

Credence hears this, and slows, and eventually just....stops, halfway down a staircase. One of his hands is gripping his other elbow, very tightly.

[magician_king]

"Woah."

Says Quentin, spinning on the landing down below, him, looking up at him.

"What did I say? Are you okay?"

[credere]

He picks at his jacket.

"I don't...know any of those things," he murmurs. "About clouds, or steam, or...birds."

It feels like something beautiful has just been snatched out of his reach and placed behind the impenetrable barrier of his own ignorance.

[magician_king]

"I know."

He promises;

"That's why I'm telling you. I'm not telling you what you don't know, Credence- I'm telling you how you're going learn."

He leans at the bannister, and looks up at him.

"You're taking your first step down a very long road, I'm not going to lie to you about that. But the point for today isn't the particulars about clouds or steam. It's just understanding one key distinction that we're going to get to. Come on-"

Reaching his hand up to him, inviting him down the stairs, and onwards, literally and metaphorically.

"-I'll explain everything."

[credere]

Credence sways on his feet for a moment, then lets his hands fall to his sides and continues descending the stairs.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

Sorry he's so stupid, sorry he doesn't trust Quentin to do this right, just - sorry.