Ougen, the forgotten scholar

Today I awoke to a call from Skarra. As I opened my eyes I saw a tall, dark-haired man munching on some bread. He waved his hand trying to appease my companion that had her hand on the hilt of her sword.

He chuckled ans said; "Hey, I'm not looking for trouble. I noticed you folks here sleeping on empty bellies so I brought along some food to share."

He taped his toes against a backpack by his feet, causing it to topple over. A few apples spilled out of it, bouncing onto the ground.

Skarra was hesitant to eat, but after watching me take a bite, she digged in as well. As I was chewing my food, I pondered where I had seen the man's uniform before. Then it hit me. The clothes belonged to the University of Isha, the biggest academy in the 'free kingdoms', with the chain identifying the man as a professor. My mother once told me, because she thought for a while that my brother would attend the university one day. Fat chance of that happening, after he got ran over by a cow of all things.

After we finished eating, I decided to shoot my shot.

O - Ougen N - Nothol

N: Would thee be so kind as to spare a few moments of thou time.

The scholar looks at me, shoots me a smile and speaks with a voice, soft as a feather.

O: Of cause, my fellow adventurer. And please don't speak so kindly, you might tie your tounge.

N: Sorry, Sir. I've never met someone ranked as highly as you.

O: Rank is nothing but a hassle used to keep bright, young minds from speaking. The light within us, is whats important and yours...

He taps his index finger against my forehead.

O: ... shines quite brightly.

Skarra told me later that I blushed like a fair maiden at this moment.

N: Thank you, Sir.

O: The Name is Ougen. Ougen, the Harlot of Progress.

N: Nice to meet you Ougen, my Name is Nothol.

O: You wear you heard on your sleeve, my friend. My name troubles you, doesn't it.

N: Well ... yeah. Isn't you title quite rude.

O: I'm quite fond of it. It describes me to a tee even thou in a slightly insulting manner. I like to think the wordsmiths of the academy gave it to me out of envy, but regardless, you wanted something from me?

N: I would love to interview you.

O: Ohh, an interview. I myself am quite fond of those. Ask away little man. What interest dwells inside that head of yours?

N: What is you field of expertise?

O: That's a good question. I've studied many topics over the years but right now I devoted myself to unveiling the true nature of magic.

N: Don't we already know what magic is? Even I could learn some spells if I had someone teaching me.

O: True, we know what magic seems to be and how to handle it. But where does it come from? Every energy needs a source. How come techniques can be inherited by whole bloodlines, without the user ever being taught how to use it? Magic is a tool, that we may know how to use, but have no idea where it came from or how it works. I must admit the fruits of my studies may seem redundant, but I believe that for the world to contiguously prosper, we need to truly understand magic to its core.

Ougen looks at me writing his speech down and laughs.

O: Sorry for loosing myself in this little rant, but the topic is very dear to my heart. What are you writing in?

N: Oh, that. Just an item that I found in the fields back home.

O: May I see it?

I contemplate the idea of denying his request, but that would raise even more suspicion than me having a magical item. Besides he seems to be friendly and the map is tucked away in my back pocket. I hand the book over. He inspects it while mumbling, then gives it back to me.

O: Remarkable. Thank you for showing me such a powerful thing. But I must inform you of a misconception on your part. What you posses here is more than a simple magical item. It's an artifact.

N: Were is the difference?

O: An item is made by mortal hand. It's an object infuse with a certain pattern to guide the flow of magic and produce a certain set of effects. An artifact on the other hand is made with pure divinity as foundation. It's produced by killing a god, or some other creature that did so, and instead of taking the divinity into oneself channeling it into an inanimate object. This way the prospect of immorality may be lost, but the effects produced are way stronger.

N: Ehm...

O: My apologies, I don't think I am explaining this well, but what you have in your hands isn't an run of the mill item but a vessel that holds one concept of our reality. So what does it do?

N: Well, ehm ... sometimes records of other worlds write themself into it.

O: Truly remarkable. You wouldn't be willing to part with it by any chance?

I clutch my book to my chest shouting a heartfelt "NO". Disappointment washes over Ougens face but he still gives me a warm smile.

O: That is sad for me, but I admire the resolution in your heart. Am I right assuming that your journal is for other worlds to read?

N: Yes.

O: So the things spoken here will circle the universe and resonate in other peoples heads. I'm truly indented to you. I may be the first scientist that gets his theses propagated to other worlds.

N: It's not a big deal.

O: Still I would love to thank you.

Ougen scratches his chin.

O: And I have the perfect idea. Would you hand me that ingenious piece of creation again?