Once upon a time, long before ink met scroll, before empires carved their names into the annals of history, there was only the primal instinct within humanity.
Humanity wandered, hunted, survived. But then, something changed.
It began not with fire, nor with stone tools, but with thought alone.
In the earliest days of mankind, during what we now call the Bronze Age, when fire was no longer feared but understood, the first sparks of true knowledge ignited.
It all started with a scribe who, deep in thought, accidentally let a rock slip from his hand. However, instead of falling straight down as expected, it landed at a completely different angle.
Back then, they had no idea how or why it happened; they simply couldn't explain it. But what they did say was that when they were deep in thought, they felt something strange yet something just snapped: It's like a space had opened in their minds, not of matter, but of pure thought, where they felt nothing but an open mind.
It began as instinct sharpened by awareness. Over time, awareness became theory. Theory became logic. Logic became power.
Later, people gave it a name: Field of Recognition.
They saw patterns in the stars, in the body, in the sounds of the world. And slowly, they noticed something else: When thought matched with structure, reality itself responded to the mind and changed itself.
Not by miracles. Not by divine will. But by a silent force embedded in the air itself, nestled within the very oxygen we breathe.
Soon enough, they discovered why. Hanging invisibly in the air around them were particles we now call: Reality Responsive Particles, or RRP for short.
These particles stay dormant for the foolish one, but for the wise one, they awaken. Through the Field of Recognition, a wise individual sends out a wave from their mind to reality. A Cognitive Wave.
Oxygen and nitrogen, bonded with a particle that listens to the wise one, and a mind capable of sending the right message.
It's not magic, nor is it God. The source of all power is, in fact, knowledge.
And thus, the Age of Erudition began.
From blacksmiths who could bend metal without fire, to soldiers who could fire bullets without needing a gun. Like one poet once said: Knowledge is the key that unlocks the world's true power.
With knowledge alone, humanity evolved into the most superior race.
And those who embraced and walked in the light of knowledge were called one thing by all:
Scholars, revealers of mysteries."
"…"
"Got any questions, kiddo?"
"Yes, a lots. But first off, who the hell came up with 'Scholars'? That sounds lame!"
"HEY! That sounds cool enough to me! And it's not like I'm the one who thought of the name in the first place."
In a cramped, dark cell was lighted only by the luminous moonlight, which was just beginning to rise behind the barred window. The young man, also known as Isaak, is sitting in front of an old man. Though his wrists were aching under the weight of the heavy iron chains, he ignored them anyways and instead, focused on the old man's words.
Meanwhile, Frode gnawed on a piece of bread so hard it looked more like a rock than food. He tore at it with his skinny fingers, crumbs scattering like fallen leaves.
"Doesn't look too yummy, huh?" Frode smirked as he swallowed a piece of the bread.
Isaak rolled his eyes. "That thing definetly not a bread."
"Better than nothing." Frode said, shrugging. "Ain't like they serve five-star meals here."
Isaak leaned forward, making the chains clinking against each other.
"Let's get back to the main topic... So basically, according to what you said earlier, we can imagine things and then they just become real? Like if I imagine a key to get rid of these chains, it'll just suddenly appear out of nowhere?"
Before Isaak could react, Frode smacked the young man on the head with his hardened bread. "Dumbass! That's not how it works!"
Isaak flinched, grabbing his forehead where the old man had just smacked him. "Ow! Jeez, I just don't get it, alright? What do you meant by 'particle listens to the wise one and sends a message'? That seriously makes no sense!"
Frode sighed dramatically as he leaned closer to Isaak to explain. "Haiz, I suppose your brain's too small to get what I'm saying. Let me try to make it easier to understand so even an idiot like you can comprehend."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just tell me how it works already." Isaak grumbled impatiently.
Frode paused a bit for effect before starting again. "Listen up. If you want to do some crazy things, you have to understand your surroundings first."
"Understanding my surroundings?" Isaak tilted his head in confusion.
Frode nodded as he continued. "By surroundings here, I mean the domain that you'll need to open inside your mind, the one that makes you feel truly open-minded. As I mentioned earlier, that's called the Field of Recognition."
"Field of Recognition... How do you open it, though? Do you just, like, imagine it?" Isaak moved his hands to his forehead, making a mind exploding gesture.
"I will explain this later on." Frode replied dryly. "But yeah, it's something like that, sensing your own world, or whatever it's called."
Isaak pondered this for a moment, his gaze moving from the chains that helding him and back at Frode's worn face. "Okay, I think I'm starting to get it now. What about that 'Really Real Platypus' or something like that?"
The old man grabbed his forehead and let out a long sigh before explaining. "It's called Reality Responsive Particles, or RRP if you can't remember it well."
"Yeah, what with it? You said it's somewhat like oxygen?"
"Well… As you may or may not know, Our air we breathe is mostly nitrogen and oxygen. About 71% nitrogen and 21% oxygen, with just a tiny bit of other gases like carbon dioxide." Frode spoke, his voice slow and steady enough for Isaak to understand. "However, hundreds of years ago, a scholar found that the air also contains a special particles known as RRP, which were nearly impossible to detect because they were hidden between oxygen and nitrogen."
After hearing Frode explain, Isaak snapped his fingers as if he finally understood it all. "Oh, I definitely get it now! So basically, we have to open a space inside our mind called the Field of Recognition, and then use something you mentioned before, Cognitive Waves? Send it from our mind to the real world. It contacts with RRP and crazy things happen, right?"
The old man nodded and clapped his hand. "Correct! That's exactly how it works. Sending Cognitive Waves is the final action you need to make things in your head happen in real life. It's similar to brain waves, so I don't really need to explain too much about it. But…"
"But…?" Isaak asked, puzzled. He had a bad feeling about what was coming next.
"The problem is, you can't just imagine it and have it suddenly become real." Frode stated, immediately crushed Isaak's hopes.
"Then how does it actually work?!" The young man immediately asked back.
"This is how it actually work." The old man explained, his voice serious. "When a Scholar opens Field of Recognition in their mind, they have to construct logic, apply formulas, and simulate structures step by step. Not everything you imagine about will come out right. You need a logical, precise, and deep enough theory to activate and transmit Cognitive Waves. For example, you can't just think of fire and expect it to appear out of nowhere. You will need to figure out its structure, properties, and possible forms it could exist in..."
"…"
"After all of that, you have to control the Cognitive Waves. From there, push your analysis out, it'll contact the RRP, and that's it, you've successfully changed reality."
Isaak sat back, his brow deeply furrowed in confusion. He felt like his head might explode just from all the explaining on how the power works. He rubbed his forehead, fighting the urge to groan in frustration.
"Okay, okay, I understand how the warden can summon random things out of nowhere now." He muttered, shaking his head as if trying to clear the complexity of the explaining out of his thoughts.
"I glad you understand it." The old man finished devouring his bread. "Overall, it's just about opening your Field of Recognition, building logic and formulas, making decisions, and transmitting Cognitive Waves to RRP. And boom! You successfully change reality and matter."
"Haha, that great… But let's just change the topic."
Frode raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Fine by me. What's on your mind?"
Isaak leaned forward again, eyes narrowing with curiosity. "How's all of this related to those 'disciplines' you mentioned earlier? What are they exactly?"
Frode's expression shifted to amusement as he leaned in closer.
"Ah, Disciplines. They're a lot different from what we were just talking about. In fact, this is the most fascinating aspect when we talk about knowledge."
He paused for effect. "Disciplines are branches of knowledge that determine how a Scholar interacts with their Field of Recognition. They are the pathways that guide a Scholar toward their own truth, shaping their worldview, defining the logic they wield, and determining how their thoughts could reshape reality."
"So you're saying that these Disciplines decide what a Scholar capable of? But how exactly? I still don't really understand." Isaak asked with curiosity.
Frode crossed his hands, pondering for a moment before continuing.
"Think of it like this." Frode said, his voice calm and steady. "Imagine your Field of Recognition is a workshop inside your mind. And the Discipline you choose is your toolset. What you build, or destroy depends entirely on how well you know how to use those tools. Even if you choose a different Discipline as your toolset, it's still the same workspace, just different tools. And different tools equal different outcomes."
Isaak held his chin in understanding. "Got it. Different Disciplines, different powers."
Frode leaned back against the cold wall, a faint smile on his lips. He seemed to enjoy explaining the knowledge of the world, especially to someone as eager to listen as the young man.
"Now that you have understand the concept of Disciplines, let's dive into the eight main ones. Each one of them plays a crucial role in how we can alter reality."
Isaak leaned closer, his eyes perked up as he ready to listen every word from the old man. "Tell me old man, tell me!"
"Alright, alright. First, we have Mechanica." Frode said. "This Discipline focuses on constructs and devices. Imagine it as creating modular tools directly from your imagination. Master it, and you could build anything from a simple lever to complex machinery."
Isaak nodded as he suddenly remember the warden's ability. "Oh... so the Warden's a Mechanica Scholar! That explains all those Mechanica books in his office..."
"Next is Physics. This one's a heavy hitter." Frode said, his voice shifting to an almost respective tone. "It deals with force, energy, gravity, and magnetism. A Scholar that skilled in this Discipline can manipulate physical laws, leading to either disastrous effects or crazy environmental changes."
"Sounds powerful." Isaak muttered under his breath.
"It is." Frode confirmed with a knowing smile. "Then we got Chemistry, the art of reactions and manipulation. Scholars who specialize here can create explosions or alter elements at will. Imagine changing water to fire or creating deadly gases out of thin air.
Then we have Mathematics, a primal Discipline that founded at the very beginning of humanity. It's not just about numbers, but it also involves probability, pattern logic, and dimensional control. It's arguably one of the strongest Disciplines ever."
Isaak's brow furrowed as he tried to imagine what it could possibly do. "Wow…"
"Next up, Biologia!" Frode said, his voice changing slightly into excitement. "This is where it gets really fascinating: biological manipulation, growth, and enhancement of living beings or plants. I even knew one of the greatest Biologia Scholar to ever exist, she are rumored to have lived for hundreds of years.
Another strong Discipline is Chronologica, which involves time perception and decay manipulation. Much like Mathematics, this Discipline is also arguably one of the strongest, with rumors of it's being able to manipulate time itself."
"That does sound insanely overpowered..." Isaak whispered in awed yet wary.
"Correct." Frode agreed solemnly before continuing. "Then there's Psychologia, the art of mental interference. Manipulating memory or emotion falls under this discipline. This stands out the most among the main Disciplines since it's not focused on physical destruction, but on the mental."
A chill ran down Isaak's spine at the thought of such power over another's mind.
"Last but not least." Frode said. "We have Sonologia, which focused on sound and audio damagethat can disable enemies without ever laying a hand on them. To be honest, I found this one is the lamest Discipline."
It was a lot of informations to take in. Isaak paused, breathing deeply as he tried to processed it all. The potential of these disciplines was absolutely amazing, but it was also terrifying too.
"Is there anything else I needed to known?" After a moment of silence, Isaak opened his mouth to ask again.
"There's plenty more you need to know." Frode answered with an amused tone in his voice. "Like the side Disciplines, the special and banned ones, or even things like the ranking system, Enlightenment, or the Societas Scholarum..."
The old man stopped mid-sentence as he looked at the young man's current state. After a moment of thought, he decided to pause. "But you seem tired enough. Besides, you haven't eaten anything yet, have you?"
Hearing this, the young man couldn't help but nod. "Well, yes, the Warden cut tonight's meal for me as punishment, so I guess I'll stay starving. But that doesn't mean I can't—"
Suddenly, a grumbling sound from the young man's stomach could be heard, catching both their attention.
"…This doesn't prove anything—" Isaak tried to protest, but Frode's words stopped him mid-sentence.
"Go to sleep, kiddo. We could continue this conversation later." The old man said, looking out the barred window. The moon was already high above their heads. "Besides, it's already midnight. We should stop talking and go to sleep before the guards start checking on us."
"…Fine." The young man reluctantly let out a long sigh before turning away, lying on the cold, harsh floor. "But I'll remember how you left me to deal with that damn Mikhail alone today. I'll definitely get my revenge for that."
Frode couldn't help but chuckle slightly at that. He turned away from Isaak. "Yeah, yeah. I don't really give a damn. This old man needs his sleep too. Tomorrow's gonna be so busy..."
The prison cell fell into an silence, broken only by the distant echoes of footsteps outside the corridors. Isaak lay on the cold floor, staring at the cracked ceiling while his mind swirled with thoughts. The day's events replayed in his mind: waking up to cold water, getting beaten, witnessing the horror of humanity, meeting the old man, facing judgment for things he didn't do, being blamed and disgusted...
Crazy stuffs huh…?
He clenched his fists, feeling a mix of fury and despair. He didn't know who he was, yet he had to suffer as the sinner of this world.
This is hilarious, too hilarious…
But why me..?
He wiped his eyes, angry at himself for allowing such weakness to creep in. He shouldn't show weakness, not in here. But he couldn't help but think about what lay ahead. Would he find a way out of this hellish place? Would he get to know the truth?
There's no way to find out... But still, I must try.
As exhaustion settled over him like a heavy blanket, he quickly surrendered to sleep. At least in his dream, he could find some comfort.
—————————————
"I can't understand why you're so insistent on wanting to learn about knowledge and Disciplines, even though it's the most basic thing known to humanity..."
In the darkness of the cell, the old man just quietly watched the young man sleeping on the other side of the cell.
"That curiosity and eagerness of yours don't suit you. I expected the infamous sinner to be far more wicked..." He muttered softly, careful enough not to wake the young man
"…Why do your eyes so innocent…?
…You reminded me of someone I used to know."
After thinking for a moment, the old man decided to reach out slightly and gently stroke the young man's hair.
"Slept well, kiddo…"