#sygaldry on the other hand is magic until I can come up with a good enough joke

[incorrect-kkc-theories]

In a similar theme to this post, Sympathy only works because everything is semi-sentient.

Y’see, the 2 parts of the stick realize that you believe that they are the same thing so much and they just don’t have the heart to let you down and embarrass you in front of your friends. The more different the two objects are, the odder they find your belief so you have to work harder to convince them that it would be embarrassing if they didn’t play along.

When two sympathists battle, it is really just who is better at peer pressure. (of course, the bindings you say are just the language of the objects. “Come on dude, that bit of a stick is about to jump off a bridge, don’t you want to?”)

Master Hemme teaches intro to sympathy, because he has so little charisma. It demonstrates that if *he* can convince objects anyone can!

[teccams-socks]

The University + Student Casualties

(not including corporal punishment)

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Elodin stopped walking and turned to look at me. “Fine. Prove me wrong. Prove that you’ve thought this through. Why does a University with under fifteen hundred students need an asylum the size of the royal palace?”

My mind raced. “Most students are from well-to-do families,” I said. “They’ve led easy lives. When forced to...”

“Wrong,” Elodin said dismissively, turning to walk down the hall. “It is because of what we study. Because of the way we train our minds to move.” - The Name of the Wind, Chapter 46: The Ever-Changing Wind, pg 340

Puppet was one of the talented, not-quite-sane people who had found a niche for themselves at the University.

Arcanum training does unnatural things to students’ minds. The most notable of these unnatural things is the ability to do what most people call magic and we call sympathy, sygaldry, alchemy, naming, and the like.

Some minds take to it easily, others have difficulty. The worst of these go mad and end up in Haven. But most minds don’t shatter when subjected to the stress of the Arcanum, they simply crack a little. Sometimes these cracks showed in small ways: facial tics, stuttering. Other students heard voices, grew forgetful, went blind, went dumb....Sometimes it was only for an hour or a day. Sometimes it was forever. - The Wise Man’s Fear, Chapter 40: Puppet, pg 328

“And there’s a chance they might think he’s cracked under admission stress,” Sim said to Fela. “That happens to a few students every term. They’d stick him in Haven until they were sure--” - The Wise Man’s Fear, Chapter 7: Admissions, pg 79

Every year or so some careless sympathist with a strong Alar channeled enough heat through a bad link to spike his body temperature and drive himself fever-mad. Dal told us of one extreme case where a student managed to cook himself from the inside out.

I mentioned the last to Manet the day after Dal shared the story with our class. I expected him to join me in some healthy scoffing, but it turned out Manet had actually been a student back when it had happened.

“Smelled like pork,” Manet said grimly. “Damnedest thing. Felt bad for him of course, but you can only feel so much pity for an idiot. A little slippage here and there, you hardly notice, but he must have slipped two hundred thousand thaums inside two seconds.” Manet shook his head, not looking up from the piece of tin he was engraving. “Whole wing of Mains reeked. Nobody could use those rooms for a year.”

I stared at him.

“Thermal slippage is fairly common though,” Manet continued. “Now kinetic slippage...” He raised his eyebrows appreciatively. “Twenty years back some damn fool El’the got drunk and tried to lift a manure cart onto the room of the Masters’ Hall on a bet. Tore his own arm off at the shoulder.”

Manet bent back over his piece of tin, engraving a careful rune. “Takes a special kind of stupid to do something like that.” - The Wise Man’s Fear, Chapter 22: Slippage, pg 194

I nodded somberly. Cammar was hard to miss. The left side of his face was a web of scars that radiated out, leaving bald strips running through his black hair and beard. He wore a patch over the hollow of his left eye. He was a walking object lesson about how dangerous work in the Fishery could be. - The Name of the Wind, Chapter 44: The Burning Glass, pg 330

“Do you know the saying ‘Chan Vaen edan Kote’?”

I tried to puzzle it out. “Seven years... I don’t know Kote.”

“‘Expect disaster every seven years,’” he said. “It is an old saying, and true enough. This has been two years overdue.” He gestured to the wreckage of his shop with a bandaged hand. “And now that it has come, it proves a mild disaster. My lamps were undamaged. No one was killed. Of all the small injuries, mine were the worst, as it should be.” - The Name of the Wind, Chapter 67: A Matter of Hands, pg 496

There was little doubt that I had hurt Ambrose. He was bruised and limping. A garish red abrasion colored his forehead. He wore a sling as well, but I was fairly certain that was merely a piece of drama he had added on his own. - The Name of the Wind, Chapter 85: Hands Against Me, pgs 663-664

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Analysis: Students get hurt a lot at the University, throughout all the ranks. People are used to it - it’s normal.

It leaves me wondering: Why do “well-to-do” families still send their children to the University, if there are so many children who don’t return the same, or at all?

The potential benefits of becoming an Arcanist are immense. Someone like Kvothe needs to advance himself in order to improve his lot in life. That probably also applies for many students of moderate means.

But for someone like Ambrose, the firstborn son of a Baron, it doesn’t make sense for him to risk exposing himself to the stress of the University, and the dangers posed by fellow students. After all, he could hire a proficient arcanist and let them do all the dangerous stuff.

There must be something he wants there other than proficiency in the sympathetic arts. My guess: it’s the Four-Plate Door in the Archives. Something utterly unique to the University, something with the potential to grant him more power than the King of Vint. Why else would a highborn son work a menial desk job in the library? He’s trying to get in good standing with Master Lorren while getting inside knowledge about how the Archives work.

TL;DR

The University is dangerous. Ambrose must be there for a reason important enough to risk his own health and sanity. He’s there looking for a way through the Four-Plate Door in the Archives.

And since he and Kvothe are after the same thing, there’s a guarantee they’ll keep butting heads over and over until something breaks.