"Rogers, did you invent the Typewriter yourself?"
Annan regarded him with admiration. Not everyone had their appearance frozen at fifteen or sixteen, as he had... which meant Rogers really was that young.
"Yes. I polished every key by hand..." Rogers stroked the Typewriter gently, as though it were his child. "But Mr. Paul doesn't seem to like it..."
"Mr. Paul?"
Rogers told him what had happened. After a few more questions, Annan understood everything.
Rogers had invented the Typewriter but received no recognition. The young apprentices had bullied him and tricked him into coming to Free City to make a fool of himself... only to stumble into something Annan genuinely liked.
But should he tell Rogers the truth?
"Lord Annan, is the machine I invented... really useful?" Rogers was an apprentice mage, after all. Once he had told his story, he realized something was off about the other apprentices' change in attitude.
"Of course. It could save us ten times the time."
"But it's not as fast as a Printing Press, or as easy as the Copying Spell..."
"Because you're comparing the wrong things. A Typewriter isn't in the same category as those."
"Not in the same category..."
"Say you wanted to make lots of copies of a book. A Printing Press or the Copying Spell would certainly be much faster than a Typewriter. But what if you wanted to write a letter to a friend, or record a long, complicated Alchemy Formula? Neither of those would help. What would you do?"
"Write it with Mage Hand."
Annan glared at Dunbelly for butting in.
"Sorry."
Someone who still hadn't learned Mage Hand went on, "Anyway, I'd rather use a Typewriter."
Rogers's eyes gradually lit up.
"And think of the scribes and officials who handle Quills all day. Even paper can