Millennial Mage

Tala told the tale of her interactions with the Culinary Guild in about fifteen minutes, during which Rane and Lyn were consummate listeners, never interrupting and paying rapt attention.

In truth, Tala felt there really wasn’t much to tell, but she humored them nonetheless.

Lyn and Rane then peppered her with questions for the remainder of their time. They dug deeper into the situation that Tala thought was warranted, as it seemed pretty cut and dry, in her opinion. Rane, in particular, seemed skeptical that a simple misunderstanding could have iterated so far and for so long.

Lyn didn’t seem to take issue with that part, but no matter what Tala said, she couldn’t seem to understand how Tala had been the one to discover the disconnect.

In truth, that hurt a bit, but Tala understood. It’s not like I’m one of the great investigators of the world.

Tala drank lots of water both because she was talking a lot and because it seemed to help her head, if just a bit.

Terry, for his part, ignored them all by and large, only stirring when Tala tossed jerky for him, which she did quite often. No shortage of jerky, now, and I’m only planning on getting more.

Once the hour was up and the privacy scripts deactivated, they stood and departed. Lyn and Rane were still full of questions, but by that point they were mostly derivations on ones already asked.

They had internalized that this was a secret, and not theirs to share, so they didn’t continue the discussion as they left, but Tala could sense that they wanted to.

When they reached the entrance to the library, Tala had a moment of panic, as she didn’t know how to open the storage cubbies, but it turned out to be a non-issue.

As they stepped into that last part of the library, an incredibly subtle scan slipped through her iron salve. Tala only noticed because a very slight warming of her skin caused her to look closer. How in zeme did they get this subtle of a scan through a script?

However they’d done it, it worked, and her identity was confirmed. The wall-panel that Ingrit had previously activated popped open, revealing her prize.

Well, Ingrit did say that I’d been scanned several times… did they compensate for my iron salve? If the Constructionist Guild seemed to take her iron-salve into account, she’d ask.

Tala grabbed her heavy iron chest without having outwardly paused to consider and lugged it back to the front desk once again to sign the statement of intent and pick up her map.

The same attendant assisted her once again, giving her the slate to confirm and then a large, rolled up piece of velum.

The map was a thing of beauty, really, which was why the fee of four silver didn’t come as a surprise. In truth, it seemed quite the bargain, all things considered.

It showed the city and surrounding countryside, with three groves of ending trees clearly marked. Each was tucked away in some fashion, hidden from casual discovery, even by the frequent caravans passing through the area.

One was in a grotto of sorts, set down below the standard level of the planes. That’s a bit terrifying, an enclosed space, filled with the magic of dissolution. She had a passing thought, as she considered. I wonder, if you jumped off one of the surrounding cliffs, if you’d ever reach the ground? It was a dark line of thinking, so she moved on.

One was in a mountain valley a few dozen miles to the north. Not along any major thoroughfares, and it looks like there is a twist in the valley, so even if I stood at the mouth, I couldn’t see the grove.

The last seemed to be hidden somewhere on a lone mountain that rose up to the southeast. That’s a lonely mountain there. I wonder how it came to be formed like that? After a moment’s thought she shrugged. Probably a dwarf mountain and not as big as I’m thinking.

All together, this painted a picture of trees tucked away from easy view, very different from the grove near the waning Alefast. Each city may handle the ending trees near them differently? Maybe, it’s at the discretion of the head of the city? Yet another benefit to working for the city lord. Not now, Tala. Maybe, in a few years.

“Thank you.” She nodded goodbye to the attendant, put the map into Kit, and picked up her iron chest once again.

Once they were outside, Tala shifted the weighty thing. It was late, but she didn’t want to hang onto the massive burden of the iron chest for longer than she needed to. “I’m going to the Constructionists to bug Master Boma and get this merged.”

Rana nodded. “That makes sense. See you tomorrow?”

Tala hesitated. “I actually have a few things that I really need to do. Meet back up for training the day after?”

“Sure.”

Well, that was easy. “Can you let Adam and Mistress Aproa know for me?”

“Absolutely. I’ll still train with the guards, and I imagine Mistress Aproa will too.”

“Thank you, Rane.”

Lyn looked between the two of them, a small smile on her face, but all she said was, “I need to go home, too.”

Tala grinned. “Don’t stop through any taverns on the way home, alright?”

Lyn grimaced. “Don’t even joke.” She shuddered. “I hope you do go hunting for those things. I’d feel better knowing they were gone.”

Tala was touched at the implications of that. “I’ll try not to let you down.”

Rane grunted. “They’re like spiders, Mistress Lyn. Most won’t hurt you, even when you pass them by, and if you only knew how many were close to you at all times, you’d realize that most of the danger is in your own head.”

Lyn gave Rane a withering glare. “First of all: How was that supposed to HELP? I’m more worried about the number of syphons in the city than before, and now, I’m anxious about spiders too, thank you very much. Second: City Archons don’t go around wiping out spiders when they’re found, so syphons seem a good deal more concerning, thank you very much.”

He ignored the blatantly obvious social cues and shrugged. “Well, they don’t go after mundane spiders, but there are quite a few magical varieties that pervade human cities. Spiders, by their nature, are infiltrators so those that achieve natural magic can almost always get inside magical defenses rather easily.”

Lyn was twitching slightly. “Not. Helping. Master. Rane. Please, shut up.”

He glanced at her and noticed her rubbing her own arms and looking around her feet with slightly too wide eyes. “Oh… uh… I apologize, Mistress Lyn.” He seemed genuinely apologetic, apparently not having intended to play on her fears.

She glared again, then turned to Tala. “Goodnight, Tala.”

“Good night, Lyn.” Tala did not laugh at her friend’s discomfort, but it was a near thing. She had a brief urge to find a fake spider, or a hundred, to play a joke on Lyn, another glance at the woman and her better sense prevailed. That would be in very poor taste and not very friendly at all.

Lyn and Rane awkwardly said their goodbyes and went their separate ways as Tala toddled down the street with her heavy load.

The familiar scan and ding greeted her as she entered the building. So, it did compensate for my iron? I wonder why Makinaven didn’t. Is it because they didn’t need as detailed of scans in the tree-city with Master Jevin overseeing the defenses? That actually made good sense, now that she considered it.

An attendant came out to bow to her. “Greetings, Mistress. How can we serve this night?”

Tala regarded the Mage for a moment. Huh, he’s chipper. “Is Master Boma available?”

The attendant hesitated, but only briefly. “Yes and no. He is in but is currently working on a personal project. And while he is doing that, he does not like being disturbed. He should be available tomorrow, if you’d like. I can even schedule you a timeslot to ensure such.”

She nodded in understanding, then decided to ignore the implication that she should return later. “Can you tell him Mistress Tala is here with some syphon fascia?”

The attendant looked confused, then hesitant, then he sighed and reluctantly compliant. “As you wish Mistress. One moment, please.”

True to the attendant’s word, Boma arrived a couple of moments later. He paused when he saw the box. “What grade is that?”

Tala glanced down. “The box?”

Boma sighed. “The alteration fascia, girl.”

“Oh, Revered, I believe.”

His eyes sparkled, something akin to hunger seeming to kindle within them. “Perfect. I’ll give you two thousand gold for it.”

Tala dropped the box from suddenly numb fingers. It slammed into the ground, barely missing her toes and sending a resounding boom through the space. She also thought that she heard the stone crack under the impact.

The poor attendant poked his head out before confirming Boma’s presence and wisely withdrawing back into whatever room he waited in for clients to arrive.

Two…THOUSAND gold? I could take the money and run. But what would she use the money for, if she ran? She closed her eyes and grimaced. “No…thank you.”

“Ten thousand.”

Her eyes snapped open, and she glared at the man. “You know I can’t sell it, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. He’s messing with me.

His expression didn’t change. “And I’ll get you out of the consequences of breaking the contract.”

Tala frowned. Can he even do that?

There was an almost malicious glint to the man’s gaze.

Is all this just to get back at me for interrupting his personal project time? It seemed… excessive.

“Well?”

She sighed. A deal this good has to be broken in some way. She didn’t think about the man who had been fond of that turn of phrase. “No. Thank you for the offer though.”

Boma grunted, closing his eyes and sighing with resignation. “Fine. Now, you did interrupt my project time.” He glanced down to the box, then tilted his head seemingly examining the floor around it. “I’ll cover the cost of repairs to the floor. That’s not on you.” He scratched his chin and frowned. “Is that really a Revered, syphon, alteration fascia in there?”

“That’s what I was told.”

He rubbed his hands together, the gleam returning to his eyes. “Then, let’s get to it. This won’t take too long, and it isn’t free.” Boma seemed to really enjoy his work at times.

Why am I not surprised? “Of course, it isn’t. How much?” Ten million? My life as a slave?

“Eight gold.” It was an almost disappointingly reasonable amount.

Tala frowned with suspicion. “That’s very specific. And you didn’t have to look it up.”

“First, I was forewarned of your coming, though I’d thought you’d have the decency to wait until tomorrow.” He gave her a meaningful look, heavy with recrimination. “Second, we do these fairly often. One a week or so, on average, though quite few of this grade.” The excitement was leaking back into his expression as he continued. “This one must have been exceptionally good at hiding, it seems. It wasn’t greedy and bided its time well.” He shrugged. “I suppose it didn’t really help it in the end.”

“Yeah, I suppose not.” I hadn’t really thought about it in those terms, but he’s probably right. If humanity kills all the easy to spot spiders, are they not helping breed spiders to be sneakier and harder to spot? Don’t think about that, Tala. Do syphons even breed? She immediately decided that she didn’t want to know.

Their banter stalled at that point, but Boma only waited a couple of breaths before clicking his tongue and turning on his heels to walk from the room. “Right this way.”

As they walked, Tala decided to ask. “Master Boma?”

He glanced back at her. “Yes?”

“How is the scan on the doorway able to penetrate to scan me? I have a defense made of iron on my skin.”

He looked back again, contemplating. “While that is a wonderful, baseline defense, it is hardly impenetrable.”

“I’m aware of that, but my understanding is that it had to be powered through, or the touch had to be so subtle it could slip through.”

“That’s accurate enough. It sounds like you already understand, then.”

She shook her head. “No. In Makinaven, my defense caused a misunderstanding at the local Constructionist Guild.”

Boma snorted. “Unlikely. If anything their workings are both more powerful and more delicately executed.”

Tala frowned. What does that mean?

The only reason that she could think of was that Master Jevin had wanted the misunderstanding to occur.

But why?

It had allowed them to meet and given the Archon a reason to assist her himself.

Was he just curious about me?

She supposed that if she’d tripped his senses, and he’d been interested in getting a closer look without violating her privacy, he’d have to arrange for something.

And a message out of nowhere would have been highly suspicious…

It was still a bit odd that Master Jevin might have orchestrated such a show…

Boma grunted. “Though, now that I think about it, the basic scanning scripts might be set up more simply, due to the more powerful workings on the city as a whole.” He shrugged. “I’m not an expert in the differences between the cities.”

Tala sighed. Thus, I’m back to ignorance. She supposed that was better than building the shadows of nefarious plots on false assumptions.

Boma finally led her to a large merging room, but this one had some differences from those that Tala had seen before. First, all the surfaces were lined in overlapping iron plates, not just the walls, and a set of thin, gold inscriptions was already in place, laid into the iron. Second, the walls, floor, and ceiling held a large smattering of hooks welded into place.

“Set the box in the center.” Boma pulled the door closed. “Your…bird should wait in that corner.”

Terry looked to where Boma pointed, glanced to Tala, seemed to shrug, and flickered to the indicated position. There was a three-foot-high partition of iron that blocked direct line of effect from the center, where Tala rested the box.

“Now, you haven’t become an idiot and bound your dimensional storage since we talked last, have you?”

“No.”

“Good. Then this will simply be the clash of two empowered items, and we don’t have to take your soul into account.”

Wait… Kit is at most Bound, given the power I’ve been feeding it, and the fascia is Revered. Tala hesitated. “Won’t mine lose?”

Boma shrugged. “It shouldn’t. This,” he kicked the iron chest, “is an organ without a mind behind it. It will have to be mastered, but it’s no different than placing electrodes on a muscle sample, just more complicated and longer lasting.”

Tala frowned. What?

He clearly saw her confusion and sighed. “Your storage item will be an apprentice, given access to her master’s tools, instead of those usually given to apprentices.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” That brought to mind another oddity. “Master Boma?”

He hesitated, seemingly sensing something in her voice. “Yes?”

“How is it Revered? I watched the creature stripped of power, down through the ranks until it was less than red, to my mage-sight.”

“Ahh, you are conflating power level with level of advancement.”

Tala frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“That’s what I just said, actually.” He shook his head. “In humans, our power level and level of advancement are virtually always on equal footings, but for magical creatures that is not the case. Advancing in power alters the body, mind, spirit, and soul.” He clucked his tongue. “An imperfect example is a container that once filled is replaced with a larger one. Then, later, even if there is less water within than before, the new container doesn’t shrink, or transform back.”

She grunted. “I think I understand.”

“You don’t, not by copper or gold, but you at least have less ignorance.”

Tala glared at the older Archon. “How do you know I don’t understand?”

He gave her a quizzical look. “Your question was one of ignorance, and there’s nothing wrong with that. In that ignorance, I showed you the silhouette of the first, most basic premise. Thus, as I am the source of your knowledge on this subject, and I haven’t told you enough to grant understanding, I can state that you don’t understand.”

She grimaced. That’s a fair point, if a bit heavy-handed. “Fine. Care to enlighten me further?”

“No.” He was already looking over the room once more, clearly refocusing on the coming working

“Oh…alright then.”

Boma tilted his head, continuing his contemplations and grumbled unintelligibly to himself. Then, he glanced back her way. “When I tell you to, toss the pouch into the box and step back. On my second command, come forwards and dump power into the item. Do you follow?”

Tala nodded.

“Good. Now, step back and let me do my work.”

She did as he asked, and Boma bent, opening the iron box. The lid came entirely free, and he set it just beside the container.

Power rippled through the air, bouncing off the iron and resonating oddly within the space.

With speed bordering on superhuman, Boma shot his hand into the open box and pulled out a tendril, almost like a tendon, and pulled it to the wall, using one of the hooks there to hold it extended.

It was clean, no blood of viscera on the length, but it was still obviously flesh, and as such was a bit creepy, stretching across the room.

Boma returned to the box and repeated the process, over and over again, creating an ever-growing, irregular network of flesh. Each extended tendril changed the pulsing resonance of power in the air of the room.

The zeme. Tala chided herself for not using the correct word. The zeme is the currents of power in the environment, like weather but magic. She shook her head. Why am I thinking about that now? It didn’t really matter, but she thought this was probably the highest concentration of power she’d ever been in, and it called to mind her lessons.

As she was examining the room’s zeme, Tala noticed a hollow space in the power, a place where none of the magic moved or shifted. The shape of the iron wall protecting Terry kept any of the magic from reaching her friend.

Good. It was interesting, as she doubted it would work with any other spell-form. This room had been designed, specifically, to work with the syphon’s alteration magics.

Even so, the resonance didn’t seem harmful. She, herself, was standing in it after all, but safe was better.

Some of the strings of flesh were interconnected, smaller strands pulling taut as Boma expertly positioned each piece.

It took the experienced Archon almost half an hour to finish the task, and even with that experience, he had to shift a few of those that he’d placed early on, changing the feel of the power in the room ever so slightly.

Finally, he seemed satisfied. “Now. Place the dimensional storage in the box.”

Tala had long since pulled Kit free to be ready, and she strode forward through the literally humming air.

Her mage-sight wasn’t required to see symphony of spell-forms twisting through the air, harmonizing with what Tala had finally identified as flesh-medium spell-forms, which made up the fascia.

A clear path forward had been left for her, and she took it. A moment later, she dropped Kit into the box and stepped back.

The gold inscription on the floor flared with power and the magic in the room pulsed, the flesh seeming to be pushed out of phase with physical reality, though Tala’s mage-sight could still see it.

Kit’s spell-forms uncoiled, once more taking on an almost feline shape, though this time it seemed to be resting in the center of an insane spider’s erratic web.

The cat settled into the position of command and seemed to pull.

Boma’s voice was calm, firm, and insistent, “Now. Give your power.”

Tala stepped forward so that she could touch Kit’s physical form, that of a small leather pouch. She immediately connected four of the largest void-channels that she was capable of forming to the item.

Magic roared through her, and Tala gloried in the feel even as Kit seemed to imbibe the incredibly complicated spell-forms of the syphon’s fascia.

If Kit’s lines of power had been a simple, if beautiful, tool, they now looked like the last work of a great artist, almost more lovely than any tool should be. At the same time, they gave a feeling of resilience that was stone compared to the cloth of Kit’s previous makeup.

The resonating power in the room gained a new depth, and the music of it seemed to fade, pulling back into the pouch.

The inscription faded from the floor, the gold utterly spent.

The merging was complete, and Kit still seemed to drink quickly and deeply from the power that Tala offered, seeming as unquenchable as a forest fire before buckets of water.

Tala sagged to her knees, maintaining the flow with her full concentration, and finally, a tipping point seemed to be reached, and Kit almost relaxed, solidifying and filling to the brim with Tala’s power almost instantly.

She cut off the flow and gasped, falling back to sit, staring at the pouch before her, which was now sitting on the floor outside the iron box.

I thought I tossed it in. But the fascia was gone, so a slight positional change was hardly the most striking physical change in the room.

“Good.” Boma walked up beside her. “Now, throw it against that wall, and wish for a door into your storage space.”

Tala was too tired to argue and her headache was returning in force, so she silently apologized to Kit and tossed it against the wall, wishing for a door so that she could go in and sleep.

A door blossomed into existence in the wall.

It was a simple thing, looking almost exactly like the single door that already existed to exit the room. In fact, it suited the room so well that if Tala hadn’t known better, she’d have thought that door had always been there.

Even knowing what to look for, and being sure she should find it, she only barely caught hints of Kit’s magic, threading through the doorway.

Boma wore a smug, satisfied smile. “As ordered, Mistress. One fully integrated siphon fascia.”

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