by Tao Wong
“Avoiding processing,” Alexa said as she leaned forward, meeting my brown eyes with her blue ones. “If you have to, you have to, but we’re safe. You should let yourself process your emotions. Otherwise, it’ll affect your performance later.”
“Performance…” I said softly, picking at her words. The initiate didn’t flinch, just continued staring at me. I found myself looking away eventually, looking aside to stare at the jinn who was blatantly not listening in on us. “I just… I couldn’t stop those bullets. Not even if I tried. A single Force Shield, at full strength, I could do if they were in front of us. Or behind. But if I had to split the spell, or dual cast… I don’t think I could do it.”
“It would have been difficult,” Alexa replied.
“I felt like such a fraud. A mage. Who can’t even throw lightning or fire properly. Who can’t stop bullets. Who gets run off by a gang of thugs,” I said softly, shaking my head. “And it was my idea to go in there, to look. Because I didn’t know what else to do. I just feel so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” Alexa said softly, reprimanding me. “You’re just out of your depth. You’re learning, but six months ago you had no idea of this world. For a civilian, you are doing amazingly well.”
“Learning…” I sipped on my tea again and made a face, once again reminded about what I had in hand. “I keep doing this. Getting in over my head. Learning as I go along. Hoping I can cobble a solution together with whatever I have.” I waved my hand at Lily before continuing. “We got away because I guessed it was a social confrontation, that if it wasn’t, we’d have been warned. Or protected. But, maybe I—we… wouldn’t.
“Because the wish I made had to be open, had to be vague, so Lily could fix things as they came up. But of course, she’s limited too. I’m playing a game I can’t read the rules of. There’s no manual, and I was the guy who always RTFMed.”
“RTFM?”
“Read the fucking manual,” I replied. “But it’s not a game because people die.”
“No, it’s not,” Alexa said softly. “But it is your life.”
I paused at her last words, drawing a deep shuddering breath. It was my life. And damn it, I had chosen it—chosen it and chosen that perhaps I would do something more than just live it for myself. So here I was, trying to help a friend, and not doing a good job at it. I shook my head, clutching my mug harder as my thoughts spiraled, as I searched for resolve and understanding within myself. Alexa stayed silent, sipping on her mug of tea while I worked through my emotions and the implications of her words.
“It is, isn’t it?” I said softly. “Then perhaps I should stop playing…”
Alexa smiled softly, tilting her head to the side. I fell silent again, caught in my own thoughts. I was dimly aware Alexa stopped to whisper to Lily before she walked toward the stairs, pausing only long enough to place a hand on my shoulder as she left. When she did, I felt the warmth of her hand leave too, leaving me with my thoughts as the night deepened.
***
“Morning, Henry,” Alexa said softly when she came downstairs the next day. I was seated on the couch, the discarded remnants of various sugary snacks scattered around me. I blinked, startling awake from the light doze I had fallen into and wincing when the stream of sunlight penetrated my eyes.
“Morning…” I grunted out, rubbing at my eyes.
“Did he not sleep?” Alexa asked.
“A bit, but he mostly sat there muttering to himself,” Lily replied, looking up. I frowned, hating how she seemed to be still chipper and put together even after an all-night gaming session.
“Extra coffee then,” Alexa said in reply, heading to the kitchen as she hid a light yawn behind her hand. “Should I call Caleb and let him know you’ll be skipping his lesson?”
“No!” I shouted, jerking awake further. “No,” I said again, more moderately. “I have questions and training I need to do.”
“Oh?”
“I need to work on dual casting. Or a better shield. Or both.” I spat out my reply quickly and then drew a deep breath before continuing. “Also, I think we’re looking at these quests the wrong way. Or I am. I’m not playing the game right.”
Alexa winced but did not stop her preparation of the coffee pot. The pot itself had been cleaned the day before, so it took her only a few seconds.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I don’t mean I’m thinking it’s a game but that the way I’ve been approaching this has been wrong. I’ve been so caught up with the fact this is the real world, that I’m limited in what I can do, that I’ve forgotten the first rule of playing in a campaign—never do what the GM expects.”
“The GM?” Alexa shot a look over at Lily.
“Not Lily,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s more of an analogy. We’ve been tackling these problems head on, instead of thinking creatively, like the drug.”
“Go on.” Alexa leaned on the counter, the hiss and burble of the coffee pot punctuating her words.
“We went and bothered the street-level gang who’s distributing the drug, but what was our plan afterward? Beat them up? How long do you think it’d take before the drugs were on the street? And really, were we going to beat up a dozen gangsters and God knows how many peons?” I shook my head. “Our job is to figure out the increase in the drugs. So why not move up the chain? If we can figure out who is making it—or bringing it into town—it’d be much more effective.”
“Isn’t that what we had planned?” Alexa asked simply, shaking her head. “We wanted a sample and an idea of what’s happening. And what makes you think they aren’t making it themselves?”
“Oh.” I paused, realizing she had actually thought it through a little more than I had. Oops… “But yeah, let’s stop bothering the Skulls. Let’s find out who’s making it!”
“That’s a great idea,” Alexa said simply, only the barest traces of sarcasm in her voice. “How?”
“Ummm…” I paused, gathering my flitting thoughts. “Well, we should probably talk to Andy again and see if we can get some samples like we had planned at the start. Then I can look into using a Link spell. If I time it right, and they’re producing or distributing it, the largest quantities should be the easiest area to locate. Might need to adjust the spell a bit…” I trailed off, my mind swirling as I played with the idea of linking it to a map or something. Or perhaps enchanting a map and then linking the sample to it so that areas with a significant magical signature would show up.
Alexa nodded slowly. “I can do that. Now that you’ve introduced me, it shouldn’t be difficult.”
“Great,” I said, snapping back to reality. “The mushrooms, we should stop trying to do it ourselves. There’s no rule saying we must. I bet if I spend a few hours enchanting, I can create a simple Linked spell on a compass with a low charge on it. If we hire a few people and give them that, it’ll solve our problem.”
“Except we don’t have the money for it,” Alexa pointed out.
“But the spotted Wynn mushrooms always grow with normal Wynns, right? So if we let them keep all the Wynn mushrooms, we can just keep the spotted Wynn for ourselves,” I said.
“What’s to stop them from shortchanging us?” Alexa asked, and I paused to consider it. There was a chance of that for sure. It wasn’t as if we could watch them.
“Nothing,” I said. “But I won’t charge up the compasses too much, so if we think they’re cheating us, we just won’t charge theirs again.”
“And you can build this?” Alexa asked softly, glancing sideways at the small pile of still-unpacked crafting material. Thus far, a lot of my work has been on blocks of wood because, well, I’m still learning.
“Sure,” I said, nodding. “It shouldn’t be too different from the wards.”
“Shouldn’t.”
I shrugged, then brightened, looking at Lily. “Can you tell me what my chances are?”
Lily looked up from her computers for a second, pursing her lips
. She stared between the pair of us before she sighed and nodded. “You can do it, given enough time. The knowledge is all there, and with Caleb’s help, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“How long?” Alexa asked softly, obviously concerned by that factor.
“A day or two?” I replied, semi-confidently. It wasn’t as if I’d ever done this before. At her grimace, I added. “It’s still faster than us tramping around ourselves, and we can always look to do that later if we can’t finish this up.”
“Fine.” Alexa nodded. “I’m assuming you’re going to need some compasses? Anything else?”
I nodded happily, reaching for the piece of paper where I had scribbled everything I thought I’d need. “I might have more after I speak with Caleb.”
“Of course,” Alexa said as she poured our cups of coffee, expertly mixing the drink in our preferred ratios. Alexa took hers black, but mine was filled with milk and sugar in large quantities. Lily took hers with milk but no sugar, though the cup itself was left on the counter, forcing the jinn to stand to retrieve her drink. Even if she didn’t technically have a real physical body, sitting in the same spot for hours couldn’t be good for her. “Any thoughts on the last quest?”
“That…” I frowned, shaking my head. “We’ll need to do some research on it. If this was really a game, the developer would have some easily exploitable flaw. Maybe we could have blackmailed him or when we set a watch, we could catch him bribing the inspectors. If it was a game, the abbess would have a number of simple quests that would tell us what to kill, find, or destroy to fix the ritual.”
“But this isn’t a game,” Alexa said. “All right then. I don’t have training this morning, so I’ll pick up your supplies and some samples—if Andy has any—of the drug. I’ll drop it off here and then I’ll do some research on Weeks. Perhaps I can find a handle on him. You get enchanting after classes.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said. Once that was settled, we ate breakfast—toast and jam today—before heading out. After all, we all had things to do.
Chapter 7
“So these new quests are sufficient motivation, are they?” Caleb asked with a smirk after I had explained what I wanted from him when I arrived for class.
“Can you help me?”
“Of course I can.” Caleb tapped his lips. “It is a divergence from our training plan, however. We are trying to shore up your incompetencies, not expand on them.”
“It’s a spell I already know!” I gritted my teeth slightly as I tried to make Caleb deviate from his planned lesson. “It’s just a way to work it better.”
“A spell that, at your level of knowledge, you should not be able to cast. At least until another year,” Caleb said with a sniff. “Perhaps you should just consider not placing yourself in a situation where you might need to dual cast your spells.”
I growled. “Oh, come on. If you help me on this, it’ll go a lot faster than me trying to work it out myself. It’s just the calculations to create a semi-complete sphere are killing me.”
“As they should,” Caleb said with another sniff. “Stretching your container in a semi-complete sphere to cover oneself is considered a significant milestone. The requirements to adjust the size, volume, and positioning of such a defense is one of the testing principles of an apprentice mage. Obviously, the thickness and dimensions of your container will alter as different amounts of mana are input. In addition, you’ll need to ensure the mana flows to each portion of the container at the same rate to ensure consistent durability.”
“Yeah, I got that, but the equation itself shouldn’t be that different. But whenever I use the one you provided, it doesn’t really work that well. It leaks mana like a sieve,” I said, trying a new tactic.
“Your control must have improved if it is only leaking that badly,” Caleb said with a curl of his lip. “A protective shield that covers both your front and back equally requires a different equation. While it is possible to create the initial shield container using the current formula you have, there are significantly more mana-appropriate equations. Furthermore, due to the nature of the defense, you cannot use the basic Force Shield spell formula for redirecting energy. Not even the one altered by your Lily would work. If you do, the shield itself will be too brittle.”
“Really?” I frowned, tilting my head. “But isn’t the formula for mana use the same? After all, the initial spell takes into consideration multiple impacts.”
“It does, but you are forgetting that you are—at your level—only directing mana from a single point. Here.” Caleb walked to the blackboard he kept in this office and quickly sketched the formula and then highlighted points on it. “You see? This portion…”
I kept silent, happy to keep listening. For all that Caleb disliked me, Lily, and the situation we were in, he was also a born teacher. He enjoyed talking about magic and dispensing knowledge—or perhaps lording over his greater knowledge on another. In either case, he was always intent on making sure I understood why my current thought was inefficient or just plain wrong.
“Are you listening?”
“Yes. But why is the coefficient…” I focused back on the board, making a mental note to divert him later when I needed an answer on the enchantments. Springing my need for further education on rituals was probably a bad idea, at least right now. Step by step, I would get the knowledge I needed.
***
Hours later, I walked out of the office building feeling the need for fresh air and quiet. A series of deep breaths helped calm my roiling mind, the constant high-level discussion of concepts that I barely grasped settling down as I walked back. Classes with Caleb reminded me how strange the concepts that Lily stuffed into my brain were. Initial spell casting and spell usage were at the most basic, simple form. Yet, if I dug and studied the spell itself, other concepts would slowly peel apart, making an appearance in my mind as I made use of the spell. In time, I could even modify those spell formulas to create my own version of traditional spells.
It contrasted with the way Caleb taught, in his meticulous and detailed manner, the various theories, concepts, and formulas that made up modern magic. His teaching style forced me to truly understand the relationship between each formula, each concept before I moved to the next. And, like in the last few hours, when his lessons butted against the implanted knowledge provided by Lily, it managed to drag concepts that I had yet to fully grasp to the forefront for my use. As it stood, without the implanted knowledge by Lily, it would have taken months for me to learn to cast my new, modified Force Shield. Now, I could do so in a fraction of a second.
Even if my synchronicity sucked.
By the time I got back home, unmolested, Alexa had come and gone. A series of bags had been set aside with the various pieces of equipment I had requested. A few cheap compasses purchased from the local dollar store, spools of copper and steel wire, and various pieces of tape and string were in a box. She even included the various markers I had requested, which made me happy. A few minutes later, I had that and my “enchanting tools” spread out in the middle of the living room as my first workplace area. I studied everything I had laid out, most of which were various hobby craft scalpels, knives, and chisels taken from my original tool set and what the initiate had purchased for me.
The second workplace was much smaller and temporarily set up on the island that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. There, I had the three small Ziploc bags of goldish-yellow dust set aside on a white plate next to a laminated city map. I figured I’d get to that project later if I could figure out this one first.
Sitting at my first workstation, I ran my hands over the pieces while I worked through the spell formula in my mind. Enchanting was, technically, simple. All I had to do was Link the spotted Wynn mushroom to the compass which then needed to be linked to a power source. In this case, the power source was mana itself. Before, with my wood blocks, I chucked the mana directly into the block itself via a holding rune.
I could do the same here, but the poor plastic pieces were elementally stable. I’d be spending more mana inputting the mana into the plastic than storing it, and the extraction process would be just as bad.
No. Storage would have to be done either via something like wood, which stored mana easily but could not hold much in general, or metal, which could hold significant quantities of mana but might not necessarily be easy to store or extract. Metal had an incredibly high resistance to alteration. My other option, which was where the experimenting part came in, was looking for something less traditional. I chuckled softly to myself, tapping a pack of AAA batteries.
“Baking sheet,” Lily intoned before I began.
“What?”
“Put a baking sheet down. And maybe grab a pot too,” Lily said. “If you remember your last experiment…”
“Oh,” I said, pausing. Right. I’d melted more than one pot and wrecked the bathroom in our old place because of my experiments. Sadly, we didn’t have much of a backyard, or else I’d use that. Or maybe not. Making plain blocks of wood ignite was probably going to get difficult to explain after a while.
Once I was set up again, I picked up a battery and rolled it around the palm of my hand as I considered what I wanted to try. The first attempt was to run my mana through it, gently. No attempt at storage, no carving of runes. If passage through the battery was easy, it should work. After drawing a deep breath, I focused and emitted a trickle of mana from my hand into the battery, holding it between the tips of my fingers and thumb. Just in case.
I smiled slightly when I noticed how much easier pushing mana through the battery was than I would have expected. In fact, what I was doing had nothing to do with the contents of the battery itself—except at the most basic level. What I was betting on was using the concept of batteries.
Magic was a little mysticism and a little science. Our perceptions altered how magic was used and affected just as much as the hard “rules” of magic. Like a ritual, the use of common concepts allowed magic to flow easier. Since everyone knew you could pass energy through batteries easily and store energy in them, I had theorized using an actual battery would make the entire thing easier.