—
Expanding a bit of spirituality to activate his [Knowledge] ability—yet finding no Source-affinity individuals in the Academia Cintrensis—Gustave couldn't help feeling disappointed. It seemed Calanthe was truly adamant about not revealing the House of Raven mages to the outside world at this time of year.
But he also knew his aunt would not let his intelligence go to waste. He would likely receive a private session at the academy later in the evening, so he didn't need to worry about being left out of Cintra's transformation. Maybe he would even have an Ofieri rune-mage or one of his own relatives as a private tutor.
He wasn't sure, but one thing he was certain of was that his performance yesterday had been effective.
So he did not need to worry that his advancement in magical science would be halted—because even though Calanthe seemed intent on keeping him under a tight schedule to quietly transfer him to the magic academies to study, and even though Ciri had likely made things difficult for him yesterday, throwing the plan into disarray, he knew Calanthe would eventually find a workaround to make it happen.
After all, who wouldn't want a very hardworking, intelligent, naïve child as their little laborer?
Entering the academy and finding the classroom assigned to him for the morning, Gustave listened to Haxo's instructions and the schedule detailing where he was supposed to go next after this class.
But in the castellan's eyes—no matter how smart he was—he was still just a toddler, so the instructions were aimed more at the maids accompanying him than at him directly.
With Haxo gone and the classroom now filling with people—from various aristocratic families and a few merchant children—Gustave noticed something peculiar: not a single commoner was present, which made him pause and think.
He knew, from what Haxo had told him earlier, that the school had technically opened its doors to the public, but its reputation had not yet spread widely enough to compare to Oxenfurt. And even if the news wasn't broadly known, he expected at least one or two commoners to have slipped in.
Yet, remembering the information from the original timeline—where not a single commoner ever mentioned the Academia Cintrensis—he deduced that the university was likely still being gatekept by nobles and aristocrats who wished to maintain a monopoly over enlightenment.
But it was not his place to judge, because no matter how beautiful Cintra was, no matter how cohesive the kingdom appeared, no matter how collectively ambitious its people seemed, there was still the selfishness of individuals to consider.
Perhaps it wasn't yet enough to hinder Cintra's advancement—but at the very least, it was better than nothing. After all, the noble houses and aristocracy were part of what made this kingdom prosper, not only in the short term but likely in the long term as well—just like in Harry Potter, where noble houses persisted for thousands of years without being forgotten.
It was different from his Lyria and Rivia, where the nobles and aristocrats—his own family excluded, of course—were completely useless. From top to bottom, everything was essentially rotten. It was a miracle his mother had managed to keep the twin realms together at all.
And if not for the trust that the common folk of Lyria and Rivia placed in his mother, Meve—trust that she could deliver them from their suffering—there might not have been any twin realms in the first place.
Thinking about his homeland and wanting to do something about it, he then wrote a letter to his mother and great-grandmother similar to the one he'd written last time about Gascon, with sprinkles of suggestive hypnosis.
He intended to plant a framework—a seed—so that the transformation into his Earth-inspired version of a modern society would not arrive suddenly and cause complications, such as commoners simply replacing the noble houses without any meaningful change at all.
"
Dear Mother and Grandmother,
Cintra is so different from home that I almost felt dizzy when we arrived. The buildings are huge, and people walk so fast that I kept thinking I was standing still even when I wasn't. Everyone talks in fancy words, but most of them sound like puzzles I haven't learned how to solve yet. Even the workers at the harbor move like they're part of some giant machine.
A giant machine like a clock tower, only much bigger. It's as if they teach their children how to write and read in a way that makes everyone here run smoothly. They even have something like castellans for their castellans. In the markets, at the harbor, with the guards on the walls, in the craftsmen's guilds, and in many, many other places, everyone seems to know exactly what they're doing. It's almost like having many little Uncle Odos everywhere.
Still, Mother, when the lamps light up at night, I miss home and its slow, quiet days, where there is time to rest and talk without hurrying. But I also want to learn as much as I can about this fast, shiny place—the streets, the harbor, the markets, and how everyone seems to know exactly what to do. I promise I'll watch and listen carefully, trying to understand everything I can, without ever forgetting where I came from.
With love,
Your little Gustave.
"
After writing a suggestive letter about bureaucratic institutions and education systems, Gustave began to write another letter, this time with a different topic meant to make Meve consider every aspect of his Earth's modern society.
From technological advancement, urbanization, communication systems, and the economy, to many other things he exaggerated about Cintra's modern society just to make a point, he wrote down everything he could think of.
Not only that, but he also shifted his writing perspective from third-person to first-person. This served as an alibi: after spending weeks in the academy, he could claim that his growing maturity came from imitating his professors.
And perhaps because of this "growth," the blunder he made when meeting the Foglet now seemed naturally explained—people simply didn't think much of it anymore.
From unintelligible babbling as he tried to speak for the first time, to repeating words because he wanted to practice constantly, to forming simple sentences while imitating adults, to referring to himself in the third person because he lacked a sense of personal identity after being frightened by the Foglet, and finally to using a first-person view as he tried to mimic the scholarly way of speaking—his progression appeared natural.
Thus, looking at the letter written in first-person view, he felt satisfied. He knew that anyone who might investigate his background in the future would see this "growth" as nothing more than the natural development expected from someone with high intellect. It neatly covered the inconsistencies he had while trying to act like a prodigy toddler—something he had no real experience with.
Once he finished, he gave the letters to his maids to be sent out according to his preferred random-date schedule, so they wouldn't appear to have been written all in a single day, just as the professor walked into the classroom.
Surprised to see that the female professor bore a strong resemblance to Ciri, Gustave was even more startled when he noticed the little girl waddling behind her—she looked almost exactly like Ciri, only without the silver hair.
Activating his [Recall] and [Knowledge] abilities, and downloading their information through their complexions, he finally deduced that the little girl was the False Ciri, while the older woman—who appeared to be around Calanthe's age—was none other than Calanthe's late husband's sister herself.
Finally discovering the origin of this mysterious girl—who was likely the professor's granddaughter, with the adulterous woman from the banquet yesterday as the professor's daughter—he was also able to trace the roots of this distant branch of Ciri's family from Ebbing, the land now under Nilfgaardian rule.
From the professor's clothing, to her bob hairstyle, to her face—which shared about fifty percent similarity with Repanse de Lyonesse—and finally to the name she introduced herself with, along with her family name, he knew for certain that their ancestral roots traced back to Bretonnia from the Warhammer Fantasy universe.
Seeing this Ebbing professor and understanding the origins of the Ebbing people—at least the good part, of course, since the Ebbing are known for their corruption—he also now understood where Toussaint's people came from.
More accurately, he realized where Adela Marta had lived before coming to Toussaint and transforming the place into a fairytale-like land, bringing the uncorrupted portion of Ebbing—or more precisely, the Salm culture of Bretonnia—into what became known as Toussaint.
"Greetings, children. I am Réponse de Salm, dean of the Academia Cintrensis. For those attending for the first time, it may help to know that I am the younger sister of Roegner de Salm."
"For the foreseeable future, I shall serve as your instructor in fencing, horsemanship, the hunt, and the virtues of chivalry. In my scholarly work, however, my chosen field lies elsewhere: I study the ways in which the smallfolk channel magic through belief—what I have chosen to call Chivalric Magic."
As she drew the sword from her waist, Gustave's pupils widened, ready to pop out, when he saw Dean Reponse's blade begin to glow with a white light. But his excitement quickly faded, replaced by nothing more than an "oh," as the light flickered briefly before dying out, leaving her complexion pale and ashen.
Realizing it was another form of curse-like magic that required a powerful emotional state to activate—much like the curses cast by dying priestesses upon rapists, such as Morkvarg and Nivellen—his excitement quickly evaporated. For someone like him, whose mind was governed mostly by logic, this type of high-emotion-driven magic was simply not suited to him.
Still, he could appreciate the beauty of the magic and the hard work this Salm professor had invested in it. Just like the Five-Essence Rune created by his relatives' cryptographer, this belief-based Chivalric Magic was a promising start to something far greater. After all, modern electrical appliances did not appear the moment Benjamin Franklin discovered electricity.
As for why he classified this as curse-like magic, it was because, unlike religion- or faith-based magic—such as that wielded by Skellige priestesses of Freya, Ellander priestesses of Melitele, Nilfgaard's Eternal Eclipse cultists, or Skellige Svalblod fanatics—Dean Reponse's Chivalric Magic came entirely from the practitioner's own belief, without any connection to a deity.
This is why the backlash is so severe for someone without the Source: there are no gods to bear the burden of the power. Essentially, it is impossible for the majority of people who lack an exceptionally strong conviction in their hearts.
In the case of Dean Reponse de Salm, it requires the aspect of chivalric virtue as a form of conviction to forcefully draw the Power without the Source.
Yet it seemed this little display was already enough for the children present, all of whom had their eyes widened and jaws dropped, witnessing what was essentially LED-like magic for the first time without needing to become a sorcerer.
"Dean Reponse de Salm! Is this true?! Is this true?! Can I become like Lady Yennefer too using Chivalric Magic?!"
Twitching in anger hearing that woman's name again and again because of some catchy bard song, Reponse stabbing down her sword to ground and bellowed, "Children! A knight's virtues are not to be mocked! Treating it like a toy is to spit upon the legacy of our noble forebears!"
"Shame upon you, young ones! You treat the sacred virtues of knighthood with such carelessness, and you will be treated like one! Now! Write down the passages of the Five Chivalric Virtues without stopping! That is what we will do for class today!"
"Is someone going to explain which of you thought it wise not to brief that obstinate little whelp?!"
"And you, young man! Unlike the others, you alone remain until day's end! Now open your notebook and set the passages to writing! At once—do not tarry!"
Opening his empty notebook and following Reponse de Salm's instructions, Gustave couldn't help but sigh, fully aware of the major impact this high-emotion-driven magic—similar to religion- or faith-based magic in general—had on someone.
Those who wield such magic are always confined within a single spectrum of character, making it difficult to find common ground in their philosophy. Once again categorizing this kind of magic as curse-like, Gustave quickly wrote the passages of the Five Chivalric Virtues while spending the rest of the time thinking about and designing his absolute defense armor.
However, because Reponse de Salm's eyes swept across the room from time to time, he would continue writing the passages whenever her gaze fell on him and return to designing his armor whenever she wasn't looking.
—
References may break immersion. Just go ahead to the next chapter.
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References
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The Five Chivalric Virtues are the same as those inscribed in stone in the Blood and Wine DLC quest, There Can Be Only One.
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False Ciri is the impostor girl who resembles Ciri and was brought to Emhyr by Schirrú. The plan was originally devised by Codringher and Fenn to create false trails and protect the real Ciri, but Vilgefortz stole the plan after killing them, since he also wanted to find the real Ciri.
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Reponse de Salm is my own creation. She exists because Ebbing was already under Nilfgaard's control twenty years earlier during the Usurper's reign in Gustave's timeline. So I assumed that not only Roegner—Calanthe's late husband—left Ebbing, but perhaps some of his relatives did as well, seeking a better future in Cintra when they had the chance to see one of their family members marry royal blood of Cintra.
—
Chivalric magic, or conviction magic, is also my own creation, inspired by Faith Magic. Considering characters like Eyck of Denesle—a normal knight whose deep conviction in the Good Book and chivalric virtues allows him to survive encounters with dragons and manticores, essentially matching a witcher in toughness—it feels fitting that such magic could exist.
Even Yennefer herself confirms that there are forms of magic linked to faith or belief. She says:
"But they're capable, when they want to, of using the Power, at times just as well as we sorceresses. It's still a mystery how they do it. Without any preparations, any learning, any studies… Just prayer and meditation. Divination? Some kind of autohypnosis? That's what Tissaia de Vries claims… They absorb energy unconsciously, in a trance, and they acquire the ability to transform it into something like our spells. They transform energy, treating it as a gift and favour of the godhead. Faith gives them strength. Why have we sorceresses never succeeded with anything like that? Ought I to try? Using the atmosphere and aura of this place? I could enter a trance myself, couldn't I?"
The last line inspired me, suggesting that, in theory, it is possible for someone who does not have faith in a deity to attempt this kind of belief-based magic.
—
Because this is a fanfic and I want to make it livelier, I also decided to make Nilfgaard's Eternal Eclipse cultists capable of using certain kinds of magic. The Gwent card states, "The air of mystery, the promise of power—enough to obtain a whole set of pawns for your chessboard," which implies that they possess at least some power, which I interpreted as "Power."
Since cultists in Skellige, like the Svalblod Fanatics, can be transformed into bears through curse magic—or, in their belief, faith magic—I treated Nilfgaard's cultists similarly: capable of magic, but not like sorcerers with fully malleable magic; rather, they possess fixed abilities to a certain extent, much like the Svalblod Fanatic werebears.
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