by Pirateaba
“Wow.”
As Ryoka stared, the lights in her orb began to shift, matching those of Ceria’s. She stared at the orb and then concentrated.
The ball of light shifted from white light suddenly, and then shifted to a dark ultraviolet that made Ceria jump in surprise. Black light. Ryoka blinked. Suddenly the orb was a rainbow spectrum of colors, a dancing discoball of shifting colors—
All at once the magic ran out. The light vanished, and Ryoka sat back in her chair. She felt light-headed all of a sudden, as if the blood had suddenly rushed to her head. Weakly she tried to sit back up but Ceria pushed her down gently.
“Hold on, hold on Ryoka! That was incredible! I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone do that with a basic [Light] spell before—let alone figure out how to change a spell so quickly! You just used up all the mana in your body. You’ll be tired until you recover. Here—sit there and I’ll get you something to eat and drink. That helps.”
Ceria dashed out of the room. Ryoka stared at her hands. She smiled.
—-
The last bead of sweat dropped from Pisces’s chin. He gasped, and raised his hands.
“I’m almost drained. I’m sorry. I can’t keep going.”
Erin still stared at her fingertips. If she could just force something to happen. It would only take a second, she knew. One second of realization and she’d be able to figure it out again. She tried and tried but—
Pisces raised the glass of water Rags brought him and tossed it down, heedless of hygiene. He hesitated, and then gently patted Erin on the shoulder.
“There’s no more magic left in the air. It’s all dissipated, Erin.”
“Oh.”
Erin stared at her hands. They were still the same hands, but they were somehow smaller, less important. They were good hands, callused from working but unscarred. But they were just hands. Normal.
Pisces cleared his throat. He avoided Erin’s gaze.
“I’m ah, sorry Miss Solstice.”
“No, it’s okay. I knew magic wasn’t for everyone. And Rags could do it, right?”
Erin smiled at Rags. The Goblin looked up. Somehow, she had found the time to grab some sausage and cheese from Erin’s kitchen. She guiltily hid both behind her back.
“Eat up. I bet you’re hungry. And you—”
Pisces blinked, but Erin was already out of her seat. She bustled out of the kitchen with blue juice and food in hand and spread it out before him.
“Here. Lunch and dinner’s on the house.”
“You are—most kind. Thank you.”
He began tearing into the food as if he were famished. And he probably was. Erin looked out the window and saw the sun was now beginning to set rather than rise in the sky. It had taken that long?
Pisces gulped and slurped down his food while Rags did the same. They both seemed starved – probably from the magic. Erin stared blankly at them and then sat down.
“So, what next?”
The human stopped and eyed Erin warily. Rags kept on shoveling.
“What ah, do you mean—”
“I mean about her. Not me.”
Erin pointed at Rags. The Goblin looked up.
“She can cast magic, right? Not just her tribal magic, but your kind of magic. She can learn. Will you teach her?”
Pisces’s face went blank. He stared at Rags.
“Me? Teach?”
“You were going to teach me a few spells, weren’t you? Well, I can’t cast magic, but Rags can. Will you teach her something?”
Pisces opened his mouth to object, closed it, chewed, and swallowed. His eyes flicked towards the Goblin, towards Erin, and up into the air as he thought rapidly.
“I’ve—well I’ve never considered having an apprentice. You do know I specialize in necromancy, don’t you? But on the other hand—I am quite proficient in general areas of magic. And of course anyone with a basic grasp of the fundamentals could learn. But a Goblin for a student…?”
“Tell you what. If you come in every other day and teach her for lessons, I’ll feed you for free. Deal?”
It took a few minutes of haggling, but eventually Pisces agreed. Rags had no money to pay him, but he was happy enough to accept free food. And it wasn’t as if Erin ever saw money from him anyways.
She left the inn and Pisces beginning to explain the history of magic and the fundamental theories of Magecraft to a bewildered Goblin and walked briskly down the small hill. Her destination was Liscor.
After a few minutes, Erin noticed something following her. She was walking fast enough that the skeleton had to jog to keep up. Erin stopped and it ran up a few feet behind her and waited patiently. She scowled.
“It’s you. Go away, you.”
The still-unnamed skeleton hesitated. Then it clattered its jaw. Erin glared. She couldn’t understand it, and its understanding of her seemed to be limited.
“I’m going to visit some friends. Don’t follow me into the city. Wait around the inn while I’m gone. Do something useful. I’ll be back before nightfall.”
It hesitated.
“Go. Shoo!”
Erin pointed and then waved her hands at it as if she were chasing chickens. The skeleton reluctantly turned around and marched back towards the inn.
Erin sighed. Then she continued walking.
—-
She didn’t have any particular destination in mind, she just didn’t want to be in her inn at the moment. So Erin decided to explore parts of the city she’d never been in before. That wasn’t hard. Most of the city was unexplored. She really only knew the shopping district, part of the residential area where Selys lived, and the main street up to the Adventurer’s Guild.
It was high time to explore the rest of the city. Erin decided to walk down to the Adventurer’s Guild and work her way out from there. She got about twelve steps before a furry hand yanked her out of the crowd.
“Ah, Erin Solstice. I have been waiting for you to return, yes?”
Without knowing quite what was happening, Erin felt herself being speedily towed along by a large female Gnoll.
“You are not busy? We will have drinks in my home.”
“What? Oh, sure. I’m not busy.”
“Good! My house is only a few minutes away. Follow me.”
Krshia let go of Erin and the human walked rather than let herself be pulled along. She didn’t hear the quiet sigh of relief from the other Gnolls who’d been watching the gates for her arrival.
—-
Krshia set a large, glistening bowl of chopped meat in front of Erin. It contrasted nicely with the cup of rootish tea in the girl’s hands.
Erin eyed the meat dish, but she’d grown used to Gnolls enough to realize she wasn’t being deliberately insulted.
With a sigh, Erin gingerly picked up a strip of meat. It looked…raw to say the least. But if Gnolls could eat it, she probably could. Krshia wouldn’t knowingly serve her poison was Erin’s feeling.
Still, all of the articles she’d ever read about e.coli and raw meat came back to Erin as she popped the bit of meat into her mouth and chewed.
“Hm? Hm~. Mm!”
It was actually quite good. Erin was surprised. She’d expected the meat to taste like bacon, but it was a fuller, richer experience. Nice and fatty without the actual fat. Immediately she picked up another cube of meat and chewed it down. She also resolved never to ask what kind of meat it was.
“Ah, you like the scurry-food? It is good.”
Krshia sat with a sigh on the chair opposite Erin. It was a nice chair, too, wonderfully padded if a little worn and far too big for Erin.
The apartments of a Gnoll were different from that of a Drake like Selys. Open space was clearly important in both homes – or maybe it was just the architecture, but Krshia’s home had far more rugs, padded furniture, and pillows in general. It was also in a state of slightly less-than-stellar cleaning.
Really, it wasn’t bad. But Erin had a definite sense that the standards of
cleanliness differed between Drakes and Gnolls. Then again, Krshia’s actual shop was clean of any stray hair, dirt or stains so maybe it was just the difference between work and home.
“How are you doing, Krshia?”
Erin delicately sipped at her tea and stuffed her face. Krshia tossed down the meat in her bowl and chewed quickly.
“Mm. I am well, thank you for asking. And I am relieved to speak with you at last. Many people and many things have gotten in the way of our speaking, yes? But it is important we should speak. So I have decided.”
Erin blinked. Somehow, Krshia seemed a bit more intense than usual. She sighed. Another thing to be worried about.
“Sure. What’s up?”
Krshia blinked her great, brown eyes at Erin. She peered at the small human and frowned.
“You seem dispirited. Is something wrong?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Mm. This is another polite Human lie, yes?”
“Yeah, but really, it’s nothing.”
Krshia stared at Erin. It was odd. She really had no whites in her eyes. It was just pupil, and then brown cornea. It should have been disturbing, but Erin had grown used to it.
She sighed. Krshia waited patiently as Erin picked at another piece of meat and then put it back in her bowl.
“I found out I’m not a mage, that’s all. I can’t cast magic and I won’t ever be able to.”
She sighed again. Krshia took long drink of her scalding tea.
“Ah. And who is doing the telling of this?”
“Pisces.”
“Bah.”
“He wasn’t mean about it. He did a test—it looks like I’m just one of the humans who can’t cast magic, that’s all. It’s not his fault or anything.”
Krshia shook her head. Bits of hair drifted onto her carpet.
“That is not what I meant. He tells you that you are no mage. It is not for him to decide, yes?”
Erin blinked.
“But there was a test. I can’t cast magic, Krshia.”
The female Gnoll shrugged.
“If you were born a Gnoll, this would not be an issue, yes? Human magic is different from ours. We give magic to those who are chosen. A shaman for each tribe is chosen, and they wield the magic of the pack. We choose who can cast magic, not a single person.”
“Oh, tribal magic. Yeah, Pisces told me about it. But I wasn’t born a Gnoll.”
Krshia raised one eyebrow.
“Yes, and so you are told you can never become a mage because one tells you so. It is regrettable, yes?”
Erin didn’t have anything to say to that. She stared down into her tea.
Krshia clicked her tongue.
“Enough sadness. This is not why I have called you here. Leave magic for [Mages], Erin. It is not important as they think. People are important. The pack is important. Friendships and ties are important.”
She reached out and tapped Erin gently on the chest. It was still a heavy tap, but it made Erin feel better.
“Okay, sure. What did you want to talk to me about so much, Krshia?”
The Gnoll paused and seemed to choose her words.
“I have been thinking much since I watched you play your game of chess. Against the Antinium named Pawn. Many things you said I heard and wondered at.”
Erin looked blank.
“Like what? You mean the chess? Don’t worry, no one gets that.”
For a second she could have sworn Krshia was eying her to see if Erin was laughing. But then the Gnoll briskly shook her head again.
“No. It is what you said. You come from another world. I heard you speak of it and wondered at the miracle.”
Erin’s face was completely blank. Then her eyes widened.
“I said that?”
Krshia nodded gravely. Her eyes were fixated on Erin’s face.
The human didn’t seem to know to react. A brief moment of chagrin was replaced by some head scratching. After a few seconds Erin looked up and shrugged.
“Oh, um, yeah. I’m from another world. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
Krshia stared. Possibly it was the blasé way Erin said it, without regard to the way it made the Gnoll’s heart skip and jump. Oblivious, Erin continued.
“I come from a place called Michigan. It’s pretty nice there. Lots of big lakes, wonderful weather—except when it snows or rains really hard, of course. I lived in a nice house, with my folks—”
She paused. For a second Erin stared down into her cup and then continued as if nothing had happened.
“Um, one day I found myself here. I just turned a corner and blam.”
“Blam?”
“I found myself staring at this big lizard. With wings. A dragon.”
“A Dragon?”
“Yeah. It breathed fire at me, and I ran. Then there were some goblins…and then I found the inn. After that, it was all survival until I met Klbkch and Relc and then—you know the rest.”
Again, there was something off-putting about the way Erin said everything so easily. Krshia had to shake her head several times and take a few more gulps of tea to steady her nerves.
“You survived much.”
“I guess.”
Erin shrugged. It didn’t feel like a lot. It felt like a lifetime, actually, but through it all she’d just kept moving, kept trying to survive. And really, what had she done? Repaired a few doors, swept some dust out, leveled up as an [Innkeeper] a bit…and gotten a friend killed.
Not much at all.
“I ask this in confidence, yes? I promise by my tribe and by the open sky and earth that I would never betray your trust or secrets given. But I must ask, and my kin must know. This land you come from—it is not like this one, no?”
Erin paused and blinked at Krshia. It sounded like a serious oath, but what did Krshia say about her kin?
“Your mean you’re going to tell…other Gnolls?”
“Mm. Yes. This is true. And these Gnolls shall tell others if need be. But it is a promise, yes? Your secret shall not be spoken to any not of Gnollkind. That is what I meant. By our gravest oath we will keep your secrets.”
A promise by an entire species to keep silent. Erin would have laughed, but she felt that might actually result in violence. Krshia looked serious, and Erin thought the Gnoll was serious.
And—what did Erin have to lose? Besides her life? So she shrugged.
“My world? It’s not like this one. Not at all. It’s so different I can’t even explain how strange it is to be here.”
“Mm. How so? Eat, drink. But tell me. I am very curious.”
How did you describe a world without magic and levels to someone who didn’t even exist in your world? For that matter, how would you describe a world a thousand years more advanced? Erin scratched at her head and did her best.
“Well—we’ve got a lot more technology. And less magic. No magic, actually. And we don’t have Levels or Classes or Skills, but we do have a lot more humans. Actually we have only humans. There aren’t any Gnolls or Drakes or any monsters where I come from. And—are you okay, Krshia?”
The Gnoll’s eyes were bugging out in her head. It was such an alarming change from the Gnoll’s usually half-lidded stare that Erin was worried.
“Take no mind of me.”
Krshia drained her cup, and dragged a large and dented tea pot. She refilled her cup with furry hands that shook and offered Erin a refill. The human politely waved the tea away.
“You say this is a world full of humans? That is strange, yes? Are there no other creatures?”
Erin nodded and hastily amended her sentence.
“Oh tons of creatures. Lots of animals. Dogs, cats, penguins, cows…but just no people like—like you. People who think and speak is what I mean.”
“I…see…”
Krshia’s head was throbbing. The Gnoll would have loved nothing better than to sit in a corner and bang her head against a wall just imagining what Erin was saying. Better yet, she would h
ave loved to overturn the table and call Erin a tail-biting liar. But [Spot Deception] was a [Merchant] and a [Shopkeeper]’s skill, and if it wasn’t as good as [Detect Guilt] or [Sense Intentions], it was still more than a match for a large falsehood. What Erin was saying was true.
“These Humans. You Humans.”
Krshia stumbled over her tongue and tried to speak casually.
“How many of them are there? How many nations? Is it a small world?”
“Sorta? It feels small sometimes. I know overpopulation is an issue.”
Erin rolled her eyes upwards as she thought.
“Um, is it six or seven? Or eight? I think we’re supposed to have around eight about now.”
“Eight what? Eight countries?”
“No, eight billion humans.”
Krshia looked blank.
“I do not know this word. Erin, what is a ‘billion’? It is a counting number, yes?”
“Yeah. Do you know um, million?”
The Gnoll’s brows scrunched together.
“It is a word I heard with Goblins. A million is a large number. Larger than mountains. A thousand thousands, yes?”
“…Yes? I think so. Wait…let me do the math.”
Erin tried to imagine how many zeros were in a million.
“Yeah. That’s about right.”
“Mm. Then is a billion two millions?”
“Oh, no.”
Erin laughed at Krshia’s confusion. She didn’t notice the Gnoll’s hand trembling on her cup.
“A billion is a thousand millions. So that’d be a thousand thousand thousands. What a tongue twister. It’d be…a hundred thousand ten thousand times. Does that make sense?”
Erin looked at Krshia. The Gnoll was sitting very still in her chair.
“Krshia?”
Gnolls didn’t have any visible skin, just fur. But her ears were standing straight up on her head. Between the slats in her chair, Erin could see the Gnoll’s tail was fully erect as well.
Without a word, and without a single hint of warning, the Gnoll suddenly tipped forwards in her chair in a dead faint. Erin yelped and dove just in time as Krshia crashed into her table, shattering porcelain and upending the kettle of tea.