John spoke with Topps.
He discovered that the man people called worthless rubble had ideas that amazed even the Wizard King.
Whether deflecting magic or taking it a step further and eliminating it, his ideas had an extraordinarily solid foundation.
He was nothing like the talentless man others described.
Perhaps what they called a lack of talent was simply an inability to adapt to a particular kind of magic.
As Topps spoke, his expression grew forlorn. "I was so careless. I missed the academy's closing time."
"If only I could go back and continue my research."
Then he added, with a lack of confidence, "Maybe my research isn't all that great."
"Or maybe it's simply too great," John said.
Even when facing Odyssey, the proud Vanir prince, or an elven sage, John had never been this certain.
He told Topps earnestly, "You should be proud, Topps."
"This is magic that will give the magic users of this age a headache."
Topps listened in a daze.
Great?
Was he talking about me?
He had endured far too many scornful looks and setbacks at the academy.
They had left him utterly lacking in confidence, even feeling inferior.
He had never heard anything like John's affirmation.
"You..."
"Trust me, Topps." The corners of John's lips lifted. "How about a deal?"
"I'll give you the key to return to your research. In exchange, you'll leave your magic in the Seagull Cluster."
John extended his hand and smiled. "This is equivalent exchange."
Topps looked at his own hand, then at John. He wasn't sure whether he simply wanted too badly to return to his magical research, or whether a deeper longing lay in his heart as well.
He clasped John's hand.
The deal was struck.
Topps asked cautiously, "Why are you doing this, John?"
"Because