John shakes his head, a little bemusedly. He feels as though he has met so many here in this world like Gale, specializing in some form of magic or another. He’s been doing his best but sometimes he cannot help but wonder whether the Summoning made some sort of a mistake, in calling for John himself.

“Not in the least, I am afraid,” he replies. “Latin? Greek? Mathematics? Astronomy? I’ve had some of the finest schooling in England. Diplomacy? Battle Tactics? I have held a commission in the army for most of my life. But magic did not exist beyond fantasy as far as I knew it, before I set foot here in Castle Thorne.”

He holds out a hand, before placing the book he was holding down on a nearby stack (of other books, he isn’t even trying to attempt to re-shelve it just yet).

“I have managed to learn a few things here, though. Ah.” He glances around. “You — may wish to stand back.” Just because he knows how to do this does not mean he has perfected it yet…