Some people in the Tejano enclave pack like they're going it alone, for all they're enclavers and (in the cowboy spirit) everyone respects that. Camillo knows, though, that he wouldn't have a shot in hell on his own, and that's okay, it just means he needs to be a trustworthy and reliable and worthwhile alliance member.

There are three reasons for this. Number one is that his affinity is for editing, of all things, taking other people's incantations and spotting mistakes or ways they could be improved, and it's a damn useful knack to have but not much use if you're flying solo.

Number two: he's going artificer, and he's clumsy. Normally this would make artificer a stupid idea, but his knack makes creative writing an even worse fit. He's no good at writing his own -- they come out clunky, fall flat as a dropped pancake every time. Alchemy, which is even fiddlier than artificing, is right out. On his own, he'd be stuck trying to struggle through with languages, which he's not particularly strong on. But he's absolutely brilliant at math, and you need math for upper-level artificing, and that means he can swap with his friends in the enclave, do their theory while they take on some of his practical work.

Number three is the biggest one, and it's this: he's miserable all the time. Normal humans call this "depression", and they take medicine to make it go away, because they're weak and also idiots. In Camillo's case, he carries on carrying on, putting one foot in front of the other even when it feels like walking through knee-deep boiling molasses, and as a result, he grinds mana. It makes him head-in-the-clouds spacey, going around half-focused on storing mana all the time, and on his own that would be a death sentence once again; but with an enclave to watch his back, he can store three people's worth of mana, and that just might get an extra graduate or two out alive when the time comes.

So Camillo's very grateful to be in an enclave. There's three of them from the enclave this year, him and another white boy and a mestiza girl, so the fourth is a hispanic boy who'll be going maintenance track. Camillo makes sure to give him a firm smile; that's how his mom got into the enclave, and it's a respectable thing to do.

Camillo hugs his mom and he hugs his dad and he doesn't cry because his mom is crying and that's enough crying to go around. His mom says "I love you" and his dad says "crush them all" and that makes him laugh, and then in the middle of the laugh the horrible nausea catches him, and oops, there he goes.

Some people in the Tejano enclave pack like they're going it alone, for all they're enclavers, and (in the cowboy spirit) everyone respects that. Camillo knows, though, that he wouldn't have a shot in hell on his own, and that's okay, it just means he needs to be a trustworthy and reliable and worthwhile alliance member.

There are three reasons for this. Number one is that his affinity is for editing, of all things, taking other people's incantations and spotting mistakes or ways they could be improved, and it's a damn useful knack to have but not much use if you're flying solo.

Number two: he's going artificer, and he's clumsy. Normally this would make artificer a stupid idea, but his knack makes creative writing an even worse fit. He's no good at writing his own -- they come out clunky, fall flat as a dropped pancake every time. Alchemy, which is even fiddlier than artificing, is right out. On his own, he'd be stuck trying to struggle through with languages, which he's not particularly strong on. But he's absolutely brilliant at math, and you need math for upper-level artificing, and that means he can swap with his friends in the enclave, do their theory while they take on some of his practical work.

Number three is the biggest one, and it's this: he's miserable all the time. Normal humans call this "depression", and they take medicine to make it go away, because they're weak and also idiots. In Camillo's case, he carries on carrying on, putting one foot in front of the other even when it feels like walking through knee-deep boiling molasses, and as a result, he grinds mana. It makes him head-in-the-clouds spacey, going around half-focused on storing mana all the time, and on his own that would be a death sentence once again; but with an enclave to watch his back, he can store three people's worth of mana, and that just might get an extra graduate or two out alive when the time comes.

So Camillo's very grateful to be in an enclave. There's three of them from the enclave this year, him and another white boy and a mestiza girl, so the fourth is a hispanic boy who'll be going maintenance track. Camillo makes sure to give him a firm smile; that's how his mom got into the enclave, and it's a respectable thing to do.

Camillo hugs his mom and he hugs his dad and he doesn't cry because his mom is crying and that's enough crying to go around. His mom says "I love you" and his dad says "crush them all" and that makes him laugh, and then in the middle of the laugh the horrible nausea catches him, and oops, there he goes.