Millennial Mage

Tala sat in the lap of a giant, the comfiest chair in the world.

Before her, a book lay open, a massive finger pointing at funny black lines.

A steady cadence of sound washed over her, and though she couldn’t understand it, yet, she knew it had meaning.

More than anything, she knew that she was happy to be here, held by the giant, safe, loved.

* * *

Tala came out of her memory, cheeks damp and eyes swimming.

Rust you. Why did you show me that?

-Ding-

-That is your earliest repressed memory.-

Why would that be repressed? As soon as she asked, she knew the answer and didn’t want it stated, but it was too late, the question had been asked.

-Tala-

-You dislike how it makes you feel about your father.-

Tala grimace. Great… The other her was being snarky. She should change the subject before things got too personal.

What should we call you?

-I need to continue following my last command.-

Let’s settle on a name, first.

There was silence for a long moment, to the point that Tala thought that she’d have to wait. But, finally, -That is acceptable.-

What do you think about AI?

-For Alternate Interface?- Other her could clearly pull from Tala’s own mind for the reasoning behind the initialism.

Yeah.

-I think it will be confusing.-

How so?

-I’m not sure. It just seems too obscure. I don’t really like it, either-

Tala grunted. Fair enough, I suppose. You should like the name we use for you, after all.

-I appreciate that.-

So? Should we call you Sue? That’s a pretty good name.

-I’m not a boy.-

…I know?

-What other suggestions do you have?-

You know you’re basically me, but you can think much faster.

-That’s true. So, I’m Tala, what should we call you?-

Tala rolled her eyes. You know that’s not what I meant.

-True, but it’s harder to do humor based on misunderstanding when we share a mental space.-

I should call you Dorris.

-That’s hurtful.- Dorris was Tala’s imaginary friend from her childhood.

When other kids had made fun of her for bringing her fake friend out to play, Tala had asserted that Dorris was real, simply invisible.

When they couldn’t touch Dorris, Tala had stated that Dorris was intangible too.

Thus, the neighbor kids had asked Dorris to speak to prove that she existed.

Of course, Tala had informed them, Dorris was a mute and so couldn’t speak.

We could say we got a Mage to cure your vocal cords.

Other Tala snorted a laugh within Tala’s head, which begged the question of how but that would have to be explored, later. -We did promise to do that, didn’t we.-

So?

-No.-

Fine. What do you want to be called?

-Well, I’m you, just as you are me.-

We already established that.

There was a momentary pause. -Do you just want me to tell you, or should I walk you through it?-

Tala considered for a moment.

-You know, I can hear your considerings, too.-

She sighed. Just tell me the end result.

-Alat-

Alright. That sounds great. You are A Lot.-

-…I see what you did there, and I don’t appreciate it.-

How? They sound the same.

-I’m literally in your head, Tala. I can read your thoughts. In this case, that is relevant because homonyms are incredibly obvious.-

That makes sense. But you had to know I’d make that joke.

-I thought you might be better than your baser humor.-

Alat?

-Yes?-

For someone who lives inside my mind, is built from me, and is basically just another aspect-manifestation of my soul, you don’t seem to know me very well. Tala felt herself relax a little. She didn’t really know why, but having the voice in her head not pre-guess her actions was relieving.

-You enjoyed that little rant, didn’t you?-

I did.

-Did it help you feel more comfortable with me?-

…yes…

-Good.- Tala got the feeling of smug contentment, radiating from something else within her head.

Rust.

-Ding-

-Continuing the implementation of the prior command. All other functions will be unavailable during this process.-

Tala sighed. Of course.

Oddly, the implication that she’d been set up and influenced to feel less iffy about Alat didn’t undo the relief. This feels like it should be a bad sign, but I don’t think it is. If Alat was basically her, why would she want to hurt herself?

She let out a dismissive, groaning sigh. I’m starting to get a headache over this. I can think more on the implications later.

Tala stood and pulled Kit from her belt. Stretch and bath time, then lunch with Mistress Odera.

She mentally dove into her garments and sent power down the path to retract them into the band around her throat, even as she climbed down into her dimensional storage.

* * *

Lunch was uneventful, and Tala enjoyed her conversation with Mistress Odera as much as usual, though her headache didn’t fade as she’d hoped.

The older woman took them to a sandwich place for a quick bite to accompany the shorter than usual time together.

Apparently, Mistress Odera helped teach at a local primary school when she was in town, specifically helping to identify students who might have the ability for either inscriptions or training as a Mage.

Ahh, pre-Magic. It was a mixed bag, as far as classes went. Tala actually hadn’t enjoyed it very much, but she had done reasonably well. That’s why she’d been given the entrance exam for the Academy.

And why my family was able to unload their debt on me.

At the thought of her family, she again was reminded of her father reading to her even before she understood his words.

She pushed that aside, and the conversation moved to other topics.

When she arrived at the Mage’s training ground, she found everyone else already there, a challenge in full swing.

Fire tore through the area in precise lines, crisscrossing through the air and moving to encircle the fire Mage’s opponent.

Tala’s mage-sight allowed her to see the paths of oxygen as they were carved through the air before being ignited.

Lightning struck through the leading edges of the paths of fire. Unlike Tala would have expected, the counterattacks seemed to sever something in the flows of magic and disrupt the oxygen manipulators hold over and control of the concentration of that flammable gas, allowing the lightning to effectively disrupt the attacks, even if imperfectly.

The two Archons seemed on almost equal footing, exchanging strikes without being able to directly affect the other, but Tala saw what almost anyone with their mage-sight active would have.

To be fair, in the strobing arena, under the clashing influence of two Mages, it was marginally painful to see that aspect of reality, but it did give her insight into what was going on.

The lightning was fascinating as it wasn’t coming from anywhere. The Mage was creating it, already en route to her targets.

The oxygen manipulator was protected by layered, segregated zones of hyper-oxygenated air.

As the lightning breached one of those pockets, it would ignite the space, causing a blowback that would prevent the attack from breaking through.

A similar, constantly forking network of electric lines flickered around the lightning Mage, disrupting any trails of oxygenated air that tried to close in.

To the mundane eye, it seemed like a standoff, but Tala saw the end coming.

The lightning Mage had no real defense against oxygen deficiency, and the air around her was being bled of oxygen, and the woman was clearly beginning to become light-headed.

It seemed that she was aware of the tactic, as her aura was spread wide, locking down the area directly around her. Even so, by pulling oxygen away from all the air nearby, not within her aura control, as well as preventing any other oxygen from entering in, her opponent was all but assured that the conclusion to the match was only a matter of time. The explosions stirring up the air had likely greatly increased the pace of the oxygen depletion as well.

As such, Tala arrived less than a minute before the end of the bout.

The lightning Mage began panting in deep, useless breaths, clearly feeling a bit lightheaded.

When she dropped to a knee, she mumbled out. “Rust you, Stan. I surrender.” She collapsed to the sand of the arena, and the healer rushed over to her.

Tala watched as the oxygen manipulator, Stan apparently, pushed the life-giving substance back into the air around the downed woman now that her aura was no longer blocking his control, and her breathing leveled out.

So, he has methods of winning, both fast and slow. Tala immediately wanted to fight him. She honestly didn’t know how she’d do, but she had a few ideas to tip any conflict her way.

Cazor unnecessarily called the match. “Victory to Stan.”

Stan bowed towards his opponent, then towards Cazor. “Thank you for officiating.”

Aproa cleared her throat, walking in from the side. “Any other challenges?”

Tala grinning. “I’d love to fight Stan.”

Stan cocked his head to the side, examining her, then grinned.

Aproa sighed. “Anyone who has already fought may deny a challenge.”

Stan waved that away. “No, it’s fine. I’d love to see what the Blood Archon is really capable of.”

Rane walked over to Tala. “Talk after the bout?”

She looked him up and down, noting his nervous posture. He’s going to ask again…

She really had had enough time to figure out how she felt. Too bad she’d never taken any of it to think through her feelings.

“Yeah. Okay.” She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way.

Rane hesitated, then straightened a bit, smiling in return. “Alright, then. Good luck!”

Tala strode out into the designated area, her opponent stretching just a bit, limbering up for another fight.

Cazor lifted a hand and his magic swept through the space, bringing with it a dispersed cloud of iron.

Stan shivered as the iron moved past him, even though none stayed in his vicinity.

Terry flickered away before the wave of magic-nullification swept over them.

Tala extended her aura to protect her iron salve. She’d determined that it was worth the difficulty of reapplications to take advantage of the benefits of having her magics reflected and contained within herself more completely. Even so, she was not eager to reapply it so soon.

Cazor gave her an odd look but didn’t comment. He was sweeping the space to prevent any lingering magical influence of Stan’s from affecting the upcoming battle.

“Ready?”

Stan and Tala each nodded.

“Fight!”

Tala crouched and launched herself forward, locking onto her opponent as she did so. Increase.

Stan’s will opposed hers, causing the inefficiency of her working to spike.

Tala growled. He couldn’t shake her lock, but he wasn’t trying to. Instead, he was disrupting it enough to render it moot in the short term, unless she wanted to burn rings for a bout. Yeah, I’m not rich enough for that, not yet.

It was actually a bit of a revelation. Jean, in fighting Tala off until she was overcome, let Tala end the battle of wills with a full lock and fully effective magics. Stan, by not opposing the lock itself, and only fighting the working, ended up being better protected than Jean, even though Jean had a much stronger will.

So, oppose outright those who I can block fully and hamper those I can’t. That alone was a valuable insight.

The revelation was so foundational, that Tala almost completely missed the sudden working of power, which pulled a line of high oxygenation into existence, with a larger pocket created just in front of her.

Stan snapped, his hand passing through his end of the trail with expert precision just as his glove created the needed spark.

Fire ripped through the air, but Tala dropped and slid to get under the blast.

Stan anticipated her and a line of fire tore down a secondary path to an ancillary oxygen pocket, which appeared just ahead of her aura, in the path of her slide.

The two zones detonated simultaneously, one almost directly over her the other just ahead.

Tala was driven back and down, but not nearly as much as Stan likely expected.

Increased mass for the win! Her physiological inscriptions were still increasing her density, even though she was already at least twice as heavy as she really should be.

Focus, Tala.

Her momentum had been utterly countered, and so she was just lying there on the sand.

She kicked up to a defensive stance just as more explosions rocked the area around her.

Tala felt the activations of power as the defensive magics in her clothing activated to counter the blows.

She was satisfied to see Stan’s eyes widen as he evidently noticed the armor.

Alright, play this smart, Tala. She took out two tungsten balls and began gravitating one towards her opponent, even as she simply threw the other.

Her opponent gave her an odd look as he easily stepped aside to avoid the thrown metal sphere.

He glanced back at it a few times, clearly scanning it with his own mage-sight, but he seemed to determine that there was no working on the ball that would stab him in the back.

In that time, Tala was bouncing around the battlefield.

Some of her movements were volitional as she dodged and wove around the ever-moving fields of fire.

Some were involuntary as the explosions changed her trajectories and moved her in ways she didn’t expect.

Well, this is good anticipation and reactionary training at least.

She drew Flow and threw it in sword form.

Stan’s eyes widened as the magical weapon spun through the intervening space, but when the superheated blade hit one of his protective zones of oxygenation, the pocket detonated, throwing Flow back and away.

It seemed that the Material Guide’s defenses were as effective against Flow as against lightning.

Tala called Flow back to her and continued throwing it at regular intervals in both the form of a sword and a halberd. It always encountered those pockets of hyper oxygenated air and was deflected, but that provided a good distraction and allowed her to slowly work her way closer.

She threw Flow one last time as a sword, and Stan ignored it, confident in his defense against the weapon.

It was finally time.

At the last moment, before Flow’s blade would have entered and triggered the explosion of one of Stan’s defensive zones, Tala reshaped her weapon into a knife. The knife form did not have a superhot blade.

At the same time, Tala extended her aura a bit to one side, so that the Mage was directly between that part of her aura and the tungsten ball she’d thrown earlier, the tungsten ball containing one of her bloodstars.

Tala pulled. Even as she changed her direction of movement and let the ball still in her hand pull her forward just slightly, adding to her speed. The fight wouldn’t last long enough for it to be a useful weapon, but it could help with this.

Her opponent didn’t have time to notice that his defense had failed let alone to even attempt to stop Flow, before the blade sunk into his shoulder.

Such a wound would hardly have been the end of the fight, even though it would obviously be painful, but that was just a distraction.

Normally, Tala’s pull would have been incredibly obvious, and Stan could have been expected to defend himself with ease.

Now, with Flow in his shoulder, he had an instant of less acute focus.

In that instant, Tala mirrored her inertia into the proper bloodstar and the tungsten ball slammed into his back, near his upper spine, cracking ribs. Additionally, it pulled the mage forward and even more mentally off balance.

The sphere behind him continued to pull him towards Tala even as she closed the last few feet.

His eyes were unfocused as he’d clearly been taken off guard in quite a few ways.

She slammed her right fist into his gut, driving the wind from him.

As he bent nearly double, the tungsten sphere helped push him over and Tala changed the direction of her pull, drawing the bloodstar toward her right knee, even as she drove it upward into his falling chest.

There was another sickening crunch as the colossal strength of the hit lifted the Mage off the ground, compressing his chest dramatically in the process.

“Victory, Tala!” Cazor called, the healer already halfway to them.

The sphere in Tala’s hand lost the little attraction it had had towards the Mage, because he was no longer her opponent.

Huh… I wonder if I can use that somehow.

Stan dropped to his knees, gasping and wheezing.

Tala quickly knelt next to him, bracing him up and holding him steady even as she tucked Flow back in its sheath and the spheres back into Kit.

The healer slid into place next to the two of them, her magic rushing through Stan, identifying the issues. Without a word, the other Mage placed her hand on the damaged Mage’s shoulder and healing magics rushed through him, restoring him to perfect health almost instantly.

Stan let out a gasping whimper, then grimaced and spit out a mouthful of blood.

He turned his head to the healer, nodding his thanks, then looked to Tala. “What are you made of, Mistress? You kick like a bull.” His voice sounded a bit thick, and he coughed again, cleared his throat, and spit out more blood. “You take fire like you’re made out of mud.”

Tala grinned back. “I’m just a poor woman, made out of muscle and blood.” She hesitated. “Well, muscle and blood and skin and bone.”

Stan snorted a laugh, then made a gagging sound, coughed, and spit up yet another mass of blood. “Yeah. No more challenges for me today.”

Tala chuckled. “You did great, keeping me at a distance.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He gave a half smile.

She offered him a hand up, and he took it. “Thank you for the match, Master.” She bowed over their linked hands.

“Well fought, Mistress.” He bowed in return, and they released their grips.

Rane had walked over, and he clapped them each on a shoulder. “Well fought, both of you.”

They nodded in thanks. Then, Tala glanced away.

I did promise… She sighed internally and looked back towards Rane. “Ready to have that chat?”

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