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[credere]

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[magician_king]

"I'm not."

Though.

"Doesn't that mean something?"

[credere]

"You're trapped here."

A quiet observation.

"Because of some magic you did."

Doesn't that mean something?

[magician_king]

"...yeah, I am."

He realizes, with a bit of a wince.

"I guess I don't have a leg to stand on."

[credere]

And then Credence winces, too.

"...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you."

[magician_king]

"It's not an insult."

He promises.

"It's just- a reality. Anyways. I think we've kind of- I think we should let that one sit. Except that, you obviously still have some worries about actually being a magic user."

[credere]

"I think it's just best if I don't," he concludes. It won't make him happy, but it won't make him unhappy, either.

[magician_king]

"Okay. Then we can do the pressure valve relief stuff without translating it into actions you're going to learn."

He says;

"It will involve casting periodically, but just enough to be safe."

[credere]

Though even that, visibly, makes him uncomfortable.

"What kind of casting?"

[magician_king]

"We go out to the Enclosure, make a reservoir, and cast 'boil water' at it. Stand in a field, and you raise your arms and summon the summer storm. If you're- right now a literal tempest in a literal teakettle, think of how you'd let that kind of force out safely."

[credere]

"I don't understand why I have to," Credence says, sounding faintly embarrassed, as if the answer's obvious and he's stupid for not knowing it.

"I've been fine for this long. Mostly."

[magician_king]

"Didn't you kill a bunch of people and then die in a magical explosion?"

Sorry, they're having a blunt day.

"That could happen again unless you deal with it."

[credere]

He flinches like he's been slapped.

"...The Admiral took so much. I can't do that again. Not here."

[magician_king]

"Unless our powers come back again. Unless there's a port- often when we go down to planets, our powers are returned- and many times we're kicked off the boat and don't get a choice about it. Unless you become a warden here and things are returned to you."

He reasons, gently.

"The magic hasn't stopped being a part of you, any more than it ever stopped being a part of me."

[credere]

"So I'm an abomination whether I use it or not," is Credence's quiet, baleful conclusion.

[magician_king]

"In your philosophy. In mine, you are a secret spring of potential in a desolation."

He tells him.

"You can change the world."

[credere]

"But I don't want to. What would I change?"

[magician_king]

"How much all this shit hurts."

Which it does, always has, in Quentin's experience.

[credere]

Of everything Quentin's ever said to him, it's this that actually gains a little traction.

"...Really?"

[magician_king]

"Yeah."

He says, and plucks his glasses off to polish them.

"Not always. But if everything in the world is a crushing battle, then magic is just- one tiny little edge over it."

[credere]

He looks at the hammer and the prised-away boards.

"Even when it's just things like - nails?"

[magician_king]

"I mean, it depends. But yes."

Yes, for him.

"It's about mastery."

[credere]

"I don't..."

He looks, uncertain, at Quentin.

"What does mastery do? What does it...change?"

[magician_king]

"For me, it was- the difference between feeling like things just happened to me, and like I was part of it. Like I could get purchase."

[credere]

"Like you're not..."

He peers down at his hands.

"....helpless."

[magician_king]

"When you can take a nail out, a door can't hold you."

He agrees, softly.

"I've never even used it for that- but I know."