Millennial Mage

Tala stood on the City Lord’s balcony, his voice traveling to her without effort, even as it seemed to shake the very air it moved through.

She was looking down at the window-washer that the City Lord had briefly tried to convince her was an assassin.

What is with this guy?

-The powerful are eccentric?-

So it would seem.

“I am, sadly, at an unstable place with my power, and so I am confined to this tower, unless at dire need.”

Tala cocked her head, looking at the man who sat a good thirty feet from her. Why would he tell me that?

-Because the betrayal of a House would obviously qualify as a dire need?-

The man continued to talking, “As such, you will run errands for me.”

Tala frowned at that. “I was under the impression that I was to be a sort of ceremonial guard. Is that incorrect?”

“Hmm? Oh, no that’s correct. The errands will never take you too far from me.”

“But the tasks I will be doing are those of a servant.”

“You could still kill the assassin.”

She huffed a laugh, then nodded slowly, though she didn’t really understand. Humor the crazy powerhouse. I just have to get through today.

“As an example, please go get my breakfast. I am quite hungry, and it tends to be rather…lethal for the servants to come up here.”

Tala hesitated at that. Lethal?

She felt the power reverberating through the air, the very dimensions of magic shuddering at his every spoken word or careless action, but it didn’t feel lethal.

Her confusion must have been clear on her face as the City Lord smiled. “I can see you’re a bit baffled.”

That much is obvious. “How would it be lethal for them to come up here? I feel the instability around you, but it’s not directly damaging, let alone lethal.”

“Oh, I see, you misunderstand. They are simply too slow, so my breakfast always arrives cold. That is quite irritating, and I don’t take it too well.” He waited a moment. “The kitchen had my food ready at first light. You really should get going.”

“You’re joking again.”

“Am I?” He arched one eyebrow as he turned back to his writing desk. He reached out with one hand and grasped at nothing, making a vain attempt to pick up a mug that wasn’t there. “Now, who do I have to kill to get my breakfast tea when I want it?”

The last was supposedly said to himself, but it was clear that he intended for Tala to hear.

I have no idea, at all, how to understand this guy. She also didn’t know his name. I’ll ask him after I get the breakfast. It must have been an oversight for no one to have told her.

She sighed, gave a shallow bow and headed back down the stairs to search for the kitchens.

The entirety of the day passed in that manner.

The City Lord sent her to get various things from his house, below, and she did as she was asked. She was also required to do the same within the tower room, or to place things back where they went. She also needed to tidy up, take down a note or two, or perform other seemingly menial tasks.

He never answered any of her questions meaningfully.

The perfect example was when she managed to ask for his name at an appropriate time. In fact, she had been rather proud of herself, as she’d managed to ask in a way that was polite and not at all insulting or awkward.

Unfortunately, his only response was, “Names are such interesting things. Call me anything you want, and if I respond that is my name, is it not?”

“I suppose, but don’t you have an actual name? Like one that you use regularly?”

“City Lord, or just Lord would qualify.” He nodded to himself distractedly. “That is what most call me.”

“But those are more like titles, right? If a City Lord were to die, someone else would take up the title?”

The man had given a faux look of contemplation. “You know, I’m really not sure. No City Lord has ever died and left behind a city in any shape for another to rule it, so there isn’t any precedent.”

“What about if you meet another City Lord? Do you all just address each other by the name of your city?”

“I wouldn’t know. City Lords are quite insufferable people, and I have no interest in meeting any of them. Now, I am out of tea and have been so for nearly a full minute. Please rectify that and be more watchful in the future.”

As the sun finally set, Tala felt herself sag with relief, at least internally. What an utterly strange, ridiculous day.

The last sliver of the sun vanished, and the City Lord smiled. “Thank you for your…adequate service today, Eskau Tali. I will see you in one week’s time.”

Tala had been in the middle of a shallow bow, and she hesitated. “One week? My understanding was that my duties would be monthly.”

“Ahh, but you are too interesting to go a month without seeing you again. I will see you in one week’s time.”

With that obvious dismissal, Tala departed. Great.

-Maybe silence would have been a better course?-

Maybe… Near the end, it felt like he was being purposely obtuse, as if to force me to ask further, even if just to clarify.

-Yeah, suddenly calling tea a ‘hot herbal infusion’ was needlessly convoluted…-

I know, right? And he only did it once.

-And asking you to grab him another blown-melted-sand vessel mostly filled with a purposely staining, low viscosity, compound substance?-

Just call it a bottle of ink! Tala felt herself smile even as she shook her head. Complaining to and with Alat helped alleviate much of her irritation.

I do wonder if he was trying to provoke me.

-He’s definitely an odd one.-

The next week passed as the previous one had, and she soon found herself back at the City Lord’s home, bowing slightly in greeting just as the sun peeked over the horizon.

“Good, good. You are on time today. That bodes well.”

“As you say.”

“Now, take off that tunic.”

Tala hesitated, glancing down at the only covering she wore on her torso. She lifted her gaze back up to meet the City Lord’s. “No.”

“No?” He cocked his head to one side, seemingly genuinely perplexed.

“No. But thank you for the compliment.” Did he really think I would just strip?

The man’s confusion deepened, causing his frown to grow. “Thank you for… Oh! You think I want to see what lies beneath.” He shook his head, laughing to himself. “No, no. I just find the House of Blood’s insignia a bit unsightly, today. I’m sure it is a whim, but I’ll satisfy it nonetheless.”

He gazed at her expectantly.

Tala cocked an eyebrow, then shrugged.

She reached into her elk-leathers and flexed her power slightly, removing the symbol. “As you wish.”

The City Lord grinned, seemingly having been interested in how her clothing functioned. “Fascinating! I have clothing with multiple forms, of course, but nothing quite so… morphic. I thought I detected such magics within the garments. Can you make it do anything?”

“It can take the form of nearly any type of clothing, if that is what you are asking.”

“I see, I see.” He hesitated, his hand swiping through the empty air where his teacup usually rested. A frown growing across his face as he vainly swiped once again.

Tala sighed internally, bowed slightly once again, and went to get his breakfast.

She was now getting used to his antics, though she still wasn’t sure if he was just this odd, or if he was continuing to mess with her to learn more about how she handled truly ridiculous things.

-Probably a mix of both. I bet one day he just started doing it, not knowing what it was.-

Yeah, then he just kept right on doing it… forever? She shrugged. Just because.

-Or something like that.-

The home, itself, was elegant in its simplicity.

What embellishments there were, all seemed to have a purpose.

There was no gilding, no gaudy colors, no needless filigree.

Instead, there were high ceilings, exposed pillars and trusses, and an obvious quality of craftsmanship presented for the world to see.

No mistakes were in evidence, fixed or not, as everything had been made to an incredibly high standard.

The back halls for the servants were slightly less perfect in their simplicity, but they too were obviously finished with extraordinary skill.

The kitchens were large without being palatial, and the staff was professional almost to a fault.

They always already knew why she was there whenever she arrived, and they always had what she needed ready on a small table beside the door.

This was the fourth meal that she’d picked up for the City Lord, not counting snacks or pots of tea, and the servants were always working, seemingly never done. The amount of food seemed fit to feed an army, and Tala supposed there might just be an army of servants all told, employed to care for and meet the needs of this estate. So, the amount of food made sense.

There was also the fact that among the kitchen staff, the weakest in terms of simple strength of aura was a boy. His task seemed to be to perpetually clean the floors from one end to the other before starting at the far end once again.

He probably had other tasks, but he always seemed to be working at that one whenever Tala dropped through.

The boy’s aura was fully yellow.

The head chef—a tall, rat-man—was filled with power to the point of being green. Who has an Honored as a chef?

-The City Lord, apparently.-

When she’d asked Thron, the dwarf hadn’t known the City Lord’s name and his quick research hadn’t revealed it either.

When they’d asked their fellow Eskau, Pallaun had just laughed and given no other response.

Focusing back on her current task, Tala lifted the oddly heavy tray, laden with a nearly Tala-portioned breakfast, tea included.

The food itself was so overladen with power that Tala had felt her magics rebelling whenever she had to carry a tray full of it. This time was no different.

Blessedly, she’d learned how to harden her aura against it. Though, she was still uncertain exactly how it affected her magics, even with her iron paint in place.

-There is just a much greater quantity of power. At least that’s my guess. It simply overflows into the dimensions of magic, thus making the iron paint less of a barrier.-

Yes, I understood that part, but how? How did they pack so much power into the food?

That, Alat didn’t know.

Tala shuddered at the thought of what the effect would be without the paint.

The reaction seemed incredibly linked to proximity, so if she weren’t carrying the tray, there wouldn’t be any issue. That was likely the only reason others could be near the kitchen at all.

And as to the powers coiled within each morsel? They were so complex and convoluted that Tala couldn’t tell what any one of them did.

Returning to the City Lord, she was easily able to take the stairs two or three at a time, due to her strength and dexterity. Never thought I’d be using my enhancements like this.

Back up in the tower, she laid out his food beside him, and he took the cup of tea as soon as it touched down in its customary spot.

“Adequate. Grab me that book.”

Tala turned, used to this after the first day.

A single book was highlighted in blue on the shelf. The color was a purely magical effect, in that it was simply magic wrapped around the book and compressed to the point that the power looked blue to her mage-sight.

The magic didn’t do anything, it was simply used to highlight the current item of interest.

Honestly, it was another bit of the arcane’s ridiculousness, as he could have more easily simply summoned the book to himself.

But what could Tala do?

As soon as she touched the tome, the magic unraveled and flowed back into the City Lord. Tala picked up the book and brought it to him.

Thus, this second day of attending the City Lord went, passing almost entirely without incident or unusual happening.

That is, until near sunset.

Tala, after the umpteenth seemingly meaningless task, finally decided to ask a question that was bothering her, “Why is your magic unstable or unsafe? What about your current power makes it so?”

The City Lord paused his writing, then resumed, finishing out the sentence.

With a sigh, the man set aside his pen and turned to her. “As a gated human, to reach my next advancement I would need to be untethering myself from the needs and worries of this world.”

He gave her a derisive look that showed exactly what he thought of that.

“As a true practitioner of magic, however, I seek something that you have naturally, but never fully grasp.”

She waited hesitantly.

After a moment, he grinned. “Care to guess what that is?”

-That’s a trap if ever I heard one.-

Alat was unquestioningly correct, but after nearly two days of observing the man, Tala felt like she had a reasonable feel for him. Therefore, she risked an answer, if a bit of a teasing one, “A name?”

The City Lord blinked back at her, his eyes widening, then, something seemed to cross his mind, and he huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, you’re joking. That’s funny. Out of the mouth of infants and all that.”

He waved dismissively, and Tala frowned. What?

-I think you said something profound without realizing it?-

What, though?

-I have no idea.-

Was it about the name?

-Well, yes, that was probably it, but I don’t know what was profound about it.-

“You do odd things with your face when you’re thinking.”

Tala jerked, returning her attention to the City Lord.

“Also, that answer was disrespectful.”

Tala’s left arm vanished.

In its place, now floated her inscriptions, burning with impotent power, showing her exactly where her arm should be.

Her eyes widened. What?

There was pain, of course, but her mind simply refused to process it. It didn’t seem real.

Her scripts acted immediately, keeping her blood from painting the room and regrowing the arm at a frankly ridiculous speed.

-He…he just ripped off your arm.-

Alat was right. Based on the damage to the remaining flesh the part that had been taken had been ripped away.

She hadn’t felt his power act.

She hadn’t felt any flex of magic at all.

Her aura hadn’t slowed him.

Her iron paint had meant little.

Her elk-leathers hadn’t stopped it.

The slight void-magics within their defenses hadn’t negated it.

She had been utterly helpless.

She still was.

The City Lord spoke again, his tone not changing in the least. “But, you asked me a question, and questions should be honored.”

He took a deep breath and shook his head.

“When I ask you a question, I expect a thoughtful answer. Anything else is rude. Don’t forget again.”

So, he didn’t like that I gave a flippant answer? She was still in shock. It just made no sense.

-For you, losing the arm is little more than a flick to the back of a toddler’s hand.-

Are you kidding me? He ripped off my rusting arm. Tala’s shock was turning to rage, but she contained it.

She swallowed, glancing down at her reformed arm, allowing the concern to hold the fear in check.

Her elk-leathers had grown back over the limb, but everything was not as it had been.

Her hand was flesh colored.

The iron paint was gone.

She mastered her emotions and simply nodded.

“Good. Now, to answer your question: My power is unstable because I have passed the threshold of power which a mortal form can contain by itself, yet I lack a base of magic. As a gated human, you will never run out of power, and your body uses it to enhance natural processes. Your type’s advancement also builds this base of power, guiding and containing your magics as a matter of course. To be Hallowed, I must forge a base of magic that powers me without being expended.”

Tala frowned, choosing her words carefully. “How can you use magic without using it?”

A sad smile pulled at the City Lord’s lips, and Tala saw deep frustration behind the expression. “Precisely. I am efficient to a degree that is nearly eternal, but I still use power.”

“So… why the instability?”

“Because the drips of power that are used up or escape don’t play well with the natural world. My density is just too high.”

Tala’s eyes widened. The ripples, the shaking, the power I feel radiating from him, are all just the fractional inefficiencies of his magic escaping?

Alat seemed at a loss for words.

“How?” Tala was only able to get out that one word.

The City Lord shrugged. “How difficult is it for you to knock over a tower of blocks, built by a toddler?”

“Not hard?” She was still hesitant in her answer.

“Exactly. Can’t you even do it by accident if you stomp too hard on the floor or if you aren’t careful?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Thus is the world around me, and any of my power.”

“The world was assembled by toddlers.”

The City Lord grinned. “Oh, I wish. No, no. The world, as it is now, is the unstable pile of blocks left over after the toddler’s tower has fallen. It is even less able to withstand careless bumps or the whims of fate. Our world is but the crumbling remains of a once great construction, atop the table of the next world.”

“I’m not certain I follow. If that were the case, then wouldn’t gates help? They would be like nails, securing the blocks to one another and to the table underneath.”

“And how well can you nail a pile of rubble down? Would you not destabilize it more, simply by attempting to drive in a nail? Next, you’ll state that you can hold a moonbeam in your hand or keep a wave upon the sand. You would make the problem worse.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way.

His eyes hardened. “Your kind does make the problem worse. If we ever lose need of gated humans, the world will be better for their erasure.”

Tala straightened. He’ll kill me, or not, but I won’t cower, beg, or flinch back.

The City Lord’s anger passed quickly, however. “But we digress. As I am, a lapse in concentration would kill every Child within a mile and incapacitate any Mature in that same range.”

Tala looked out the window. The outer wall was just over a mile away.

He smiled slightly. “That is the reason for the spatial expansion, yes.”

She swallowed, then pressed slightly. “City Lord, I know you’ve been out of this tower.”

He waved her off. “Of course. I’m not a prisoner, but it is mentally taxing to be on guard constantly.”

Tala had actually been starting to see the City Lord as just another person, this conversation being a bit more ‘human’ than she’d expected, arm removal aside. Don’t think on that. Don’t remember the feel of its lack.

“It is so irritating to deal with all the whining when a stray thought causes the destruction of a city block, or a breach in a hold I happen to be visiting. Most would have died soon anyways. The truly worthwhile would be fine.”

And there goes the last vestiges of the illusion of humanity.

The man turned back to his work, seemingly dismissing her from his mind once more.

What the City Lord was describing sounded incredibly like aura control, if approached differently. In that way, the City Lord was right, she and every other human Archon worked on their control, worked to rein in their power, from the moment they became Bound.

Tala also suspected that the issue came from where the City Lord had stalled.

If she had to guess, and with Alat to check her eyes, it was barely a guess, she would say that the City Lord was just over halfway from Revered to Hallowed.

Like with Refining. Getting halfway is the easy part. In this case, the City Lord likely had to increase his density first, then the control would cement it, and move him into the truly Hallowed range.

That means that he actually has the power of a Hallowed, just not the control.

Somehow, that made her feel better. His rank was basically three tiers above hers.

-The power running through him. It isn’t pure. It has those micro-clashes that Thron talked about.-

So, he got his power like most arcanes do, from many different sources.

-Most likely. That probably makes it harder to control at his level of compression. Any lapse causes the power to want to spread back out.-

Huh. I suppose, creating a stable base would allow for true purification of the power, and then he wouldn’t have that issue.

-Should we mention that?-

Tala laughed internally. Give him an insight that might be insulting at worst, and at best allow a City Lord to advance in rank? No. She shook her head. Rust no.

With no further incident, her work finished less than an hour later.

“You will return in one month’s time.” He didn’t turn to regard her.

“Yes, City Lord.” She gave a shallow bow and departed.

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