Biomancy

by Desdemona Gunn

  “Not that I would, my fuzzy lady. Just saying... I could. With time. If I were so inclined. Which I’m not.”

  “And exactly what else can you do with time?”

  “Anything, girlie. Anything. But not here. Not like this. I need more space. We’re moving up, Ani. It’s time for the next stage in my grand plan.”

  “What... Grand plan? What exactly are we talking here, Lea?”

  “I need a lab, not a dinky office. I need a full-blown laboratory to fit my alchemy, my testing rooms, my care rooms, everything. I’m going to the library.”

  “The library? Wha— How? I’m not carrying you.”

  “No, I’m borrowing a horse from our neighbor. It’s been so long since he’s seen me, I’m sure he’ll have no problem letting me use it. I’ll be researching locations. Use your time wisely, Ani. Start making your goodbyes, get the word out the house is for sale, and hook us up with a boat. We’ll estimate that we set out in ten turns!”

  “Lea, I can’t just throw my life away—”

  “For the good of the world, Meter? I’m bettering the mortal realm here. This move could enter us into a new age. Do you realize the scope of what I’m doing? It’s more than your next mayoral campaign or drinks with Sam or Bonnie, more than an editorial write-up on Anixemeter Incubore’s mysterious past courtesy of Cobus Caine. I need you, now more than ever. You’re my envoy. My face. Please, don’t let me down.”

  Ani sighed dejectedly. “Okay. You’re right. I... I’ll do what I can.”

  “Oh, and look for an expedition companion. We’ll be hunting around, which may or may not include me. If I’m there, we have a magician and a heavy-hitting ex-soldier. If I’m not, you’re all alone. Either way, we need another man, someone quick and dexterous. Keep a lookout for that and anyone else who catches your eye. And... thanks, Ani. This means everything to me.” She hugged her sister more tightly than Ani had felt in her entire life, then grabbed her shoulders and stared her dead in the eyes.

  “We’re changing the world, Meter. You and me? We’re writing history.”

  She patted her cheek, smiled a wide grin, laughed, then flew off towards their neighbor, turning to look behind her and smile.

  Chapter 24: Not Just Spouting Hubris

  The City of Bargatha, Ghostfire Prefecture

  "Eely! Eely!”

  Elon looked up blearily from his leather tome. “Liz. Keera. Ni’ma ke?”

  “Mishini, miraka kema,” she passively retorted.

  “Oh. Shit, sorry. I’ve... been in Cancaten for a few desses now. Reading it, speaking it, being spoken at it in... In it...”

  “I know. I’ve missed your dang face.” She leaned in and kissed him, and before she could back up out of it, he leaned in and held her head to his to keep it going for just a few seconds longer. Her eyes fluttered open with raised eyebrows, but just as quickly sank back closed.

  “I’ve missed you too. Just... didn’t realize it until I was taken out of my academia for a second.” He smiled at her and kicked the chair opposite him out. “You were saying something at me.”

  “Oh yeah! Guess what!” She slunk down into the chair with mild grace.

  He stared at her expectantly. She stared back with expectancy he couldn’t match. “You actually want me to guess?”

  “No, I just want you to say, ‘what.’” She smiled and cocked her head ever so slightly.

  With a deep sigh, he obliged her.

  “I finally got the cafeteria to stock raw meat! I threatened the food service folks with going to the dean. My diet is affordable, finally!” She hugged him tight, during which he realized she somehow got up from the table and had her arms around him before he could even respond.

  “It’s about fuckin’ time,” he said as he hugged her back. “They bring in the weird herbs for the other foreign students and oblige other weird diets. Dunno why they wouldn’t get you meat.”

  “They basically thought it was gross.” She shrugged as she sat back down. “Either way, I got it now!” As if on cue, she yanked a raw flank steak out of a bag and ripped a hunk off. Some form of garbled adoring speech came out of her mouth, but it was lost to the meat. Knowing she was incomprehensible, she just smiled and took another bite, bloody meat drippings leaking down her chin.

  Quite suddenly, his head found its way into the book he was reading a minute ago with force enough to make it bounce and leave a mark on his forehead. A familiar laugh resounded behind him, one that would normally float right on by him, not even getting the satisfaction of acknowledgement. That moment, however, was different. His blood boiled and he rose from the table.

  “Get the fuck back here, Eriford.”

  The Milaric once renowned for his glorious locks that were now cut so short he was practically bald kept walking, ignoring Elon entirely.

  “Hey, Jeremiah! Too chickenshit to fight a man when he’s facing you?”

  The room turned silent as the man stopped save for Liz saying something, telling him not to do something or another. Her voice was lost to the furor. A short, cut-off laugh bellowed from deep within Eriford’s chest as he turned around to face him. “What the fuck did you call me?”

  “Oh sorry. I forgot. You prefer Jerry-Poo. At least, that’s what your girlfriend told me last night.”

  He winced internally, knowing beyond a doubt that Liz would think nothing of his comeback, but still hoping she wouldn’t be mad.

  “You better watch that mouth, Arroway, or its gonna get the rest of you in trouble.”

  “How’s that? The administration doesn’t give a shit, and it’s not like you can do anything about it anyway.”

  “You wanna fucking bet?” Three equally muscled boys rose from behind him.

  “Aww, Jerry-poo needs his friends to fight his battles for him?”

  “You sit the fuck down. This piece of shit’s mine.” He glared back at his cronies, then shot a death glare at Elon. “You wanna fight, little man?”

  “No, I’ve been making threats and goading you on in hopes you’d make me a pizza. Don’t disappoint me now.” Wow. Smooth.

  “I swear, Arroway, I will stain this floor with your blood.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  Just as he had hoped, the man charged him. A quick shield spell had Eriford punching the equivalent of a brick wall. Elon took this moment of striking pain in his fist to put his palm on the man’s chest and produce a quick force blast. The muscled brute went flying back, breaking a table as he landed on it.

  A forcebolt went flying at him from a nearby table, to which Elon stopped in its tracks, grabbed, and flicked back at the caster, knocking him onto his back.

  “You know better than to use magic against me.” As he smirked at the lackey, he pointed a finger at Eriford, who was now standing again, and put a small forcebolt into his chest, knocking him back into the table wreckage.

  “Stay down, Jerry.”

  “I will fucking end you, Arroway.”

  As Elon rolled his eyes, a fireball formed from Eriford’s hands and shot at him. Time froze for a brief second as he inspected the ball of bright red energy being formed. With the tightening of his muscles, his knowledge of Eriford’s strength, and the shape/structure the ball was taking, he could tell this was no paltry fireball. Knowing full well this ball was easily strong enough to incinerate not only him, but every living thing within ten meters of him, he caught it in an instant and hung it in the air.

  “Eriford.” Elon dropped his head and shook it slightly. “You just did the dumbest damn thing you could have done.” He held the flaming coconut in his hand, drew heat energy from the ether, and shoved the tendrils into the blend, making a veritable condensed inferno. He held out his hand, aiming the ball into his open palm, and let it shrink into a rune on his palm glowing a harsh re
d.

  “Come and get me, you stupid son of a bitch.”

  Eriford sprung up from the table and rushed him. Right as he was about to hit, Elon put up an angled shield from head to toe with his off hand, thankfully knocking Eriford off-target. Using his disorientation, Elon dropped the shield, reached forward, and grabbed the brute’s wrist. A bright white light flashed from beneath his hand and Jeremiah Eriford broke into a rabid, primal, tortured shriek.

  Elon backed away from the screaming psychopath to reveal a bright red rune inscribed on his wrist, glowing and flickering with the intensity of the towering bonfire. The bronze skin around the rune began to turn black and sear as smoke came up from the charred skin, the symbol burning bright and unfettered. Eriford grabbed at his wrist, then screamed again as he yanked his right hand back. He looked at his palm, taking in the sight of the heat rune’s mirror branded into it.

  The young blonde mage leaned forward and put his palm over Eriford’s mouth, implanting a deep blue spell in his open maw. The screaming suddenly stopped, his mouth and face still twisted in agony, though now soundless. Without the screams or din of combat, the entire room fell dead silent. He looked up at Elon, unbridled fury and unnatural pain in his four eyes.

  “Alteration’s a bitch, huh? You give me a fireball; I give back that same inferno condensed into a handy little tattoo. I’ll give you one thing, though. That was a damn fine spell, there. However, I couldn’t let you kill all these innocent folks, and, sorry to let you down, but I’m not going anywhere. You’re a psychopath, Eriford. You need to be put down.”

  He put his hand over the rune and, with a flash of colors, the burning emblem was gone. Eriford stared wordlessly at his left arm, the forearm and hand of which were pitch black. When he put his other hand to it, the arm simply fell apart into black flakes, the larger of which burst into dust on the floor.

  “I’m not the man to do that, though. Consider that a lesson. Go see a fucking nurse.”

  Eriford bolted out of the room, and as the doors closed all eyes went to Elon who was now sitting back down across from the green-haired silhouette, her jaw dropped far and eyes fixed on him. He tried to hide it, but he could barely stand. Holding and containing a fireball as potent as Eriford’s nearly dropped him. The shield in his off hand somehow miraculously held against his full weight slamming into it. His breaths were ragged, his arms were tight and in pain, and his skin was flushed. A thick wall of sweat dripped down his face, burning at his eyes. He casually wiped them away with his robes, focusing energy towards making his chest stop heaving and calming his breaths; it wasn’t working.

  “E— Elon. You... You—”

  “Fifty turns, Liz. I put up with that for fifty fucking turns. I was done. And now, it’s done.”

  “You... You burned his arm off.” The last words were emphasized, though oddly calm and level for the amount of shock and surprise that was flowing throughout her system.

  “He tried to fucking kill you.” Elon didn’t scream his sentence so much as bellow them loud enough to resonate in every student’s skull. His words echoed across the walls and down hallways. “That fireball was strong enough to incinerate me and you and everyone within ten meters of me, Liz. I tuned that thing down before slapping it on his arm. That kind of guy doesn’t learn from words; he learns from action. Trust me. He won’t be troubling us anymore.”

  “And when the school comes after you for burning a student’s arm off?”

  “Self-defense. I have a hundred students in this room to attest my story.” The last words were boomed across the room for everyone in the cafeteria to hear. “He tried to murder another student and put the lives of many other students in harm’s way. That was not just self-defense, that was saving lives. There’s no fucking way I’m getting reprimanded.” With that, he went back to his book, the eyes of every gaping student on him, some with disdain, some with admiration for his act, many with appreciation for his ability, most with unbridled fear.

  “What in the seven hells happened in there?!”

  “Well, Kiana-”

  “Dean.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. Were you talking? No. I was talking. I guess you are still talking. My apologies. Go on. You were saying?”

  They stared at each other, disdain obvious in both of them. “Go on, Mister Arroway.”

  “Adept, if we’re using titles.”

  “I will call you what I want to call you.”

  “Oh, so you have to be ‘Dean,’ but I’m whatever you feel like?”

  “I run this goddamned place, Arroway! This is my house! You don’t hold the cards, I do! It’s high time you learned that. You’re lucky I’m using a title at all, Mister Arroway.”

  He let some tension fill between them for a few long seconds before starting his story. “The local over-muscled, under-learned asshat of a student slammed my face into a table, I told him not to, he attacked me, as he’s known to do, ask anyone, and I defended myself.”

  “And defending yourself required burning off his entire right arm?”

  “The majority of his left forearm, did you even read the report? And yes. He conjured a fireball that had the potency to incinerate any living thing in a ten-meter radius, and severely injure everyone in the room. I acted quickly and saved everyone there.”

  “You turned the fireball against him and incinerated his arm.”

  “Are you defending the murderous psychopath that tried to firebomb your cafeteria?”

  “I am defending a student against whom was used massively excessive force.”

  “You talk funny. Anyone ever tell you that? You should take one of those language courses here, learn sentence structure.”

  “Give me one reason I shouldn’t throw you out of this academy, Mister Arroway.”

  “Well, for one, I, you know, saved a cafeteria full of students—”

  “You are truly an adept in the arts of alteration, and, since we only have entry-level alteration courses, you are obviously better than any of the professors we have in this academy in your art form. You’re telling me that you had a highly dangerous fireball under your control, and your only course of action was to sear it into his flesh, not even just for a split second, but long enough to burn off half his arm? You had every chance to dissipate the spell entirely.”

  “And what? Wait for him to throw another one, and another one? Wait ‘til I was either exhausted or ‘til I slipped up? He’s stronger than me. He could throw fireballs for minutes on end; I barely kept up as it was. I assessed the situation, I came to a conclusion, I made a call.”

  “And what was that call?”

  “Teach him a fucking lesson! That man is psychotic! Slapping him on the wrist isn’t going to do shit. He needs to be put down or locked away. I admit, perhaps I went a little overboard.”

  “A little?! You ruined this man’s career! He will never play as well again, ruining his scholarship and future—”

  “Oh shut the fuck up. He plays ulama, you’re not even allowed to you use your arms in ulama.”

  “With only one hand, he’ll never cast as well again, and he’ll be a cripple all his life.”

  “And if you’re smart, he’ll spend the rest of his life in a cell; that or a short life ending on a fucking guillotine! He’s a psychopath, Kiana, and I ain’t exaggerating. He tried to kill me. No, he didn’t just try to kill me, he was willing to kill or injure a hundred students just to get to me because I insulted him. A word of condemnation was enough for him to try to firebomb the damn cafeteria. Kiana, are you listening to the words I’m saying?”

  “I can’t keep someone like you in this establishment. The students are scared of you, Elon. You’re as powerful as most of the professors, and you’re more well versed than any of them. You’re breeding fear in the student body, and with this fiasco? No. We can’t do this
.”

  He stared at her, mouth agape. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re kicking me out? Remember why you brought me in to this school in the first place? Why you brought me off the street?”

  “You’ve failed to accomplish what you were brought into the academy to do, for one.”

  “Oh? And what was that?”

  “Not the point. You were a promising student, and you did live up to that promise. We hoped to tune your innate powers for good, but you’re going to dark places, Elon. Your moral compass is so far off that you’re beyond hope.”

  “I saved your students. Obviously my moral compass is all askew, saving innocent lives and whatnot.”

  “We’re worried if we keep you in, you might kill someone.”

  “I’m not a fucking murderer!”

  “But torture isn’t out of the question.”

  “He deserved it!”

  “No one deserves torture. Not like that.”

  “You don’t know him. You don’t see him for who he is. If you did, you’d agree. Not my fault you’re fucking blind.”

  “Leave this campus, Mister Arroway. Consider yourself banned.”

  He rose and leaned forward, splaying his hands on her desk. “I’ll gather my things and leave immediately. I will make my goodbyes, and I will be back in fifteen turns for the graduation of both my girlfriend and my closest friend.”

  “You most certainly will not.”

  “You don’t have a choice, Kiana.”

  “If you show back up on this campus, you will be immediately detained and locked away for trespassing and malicious intent.”

  “I’d like to see you try, you piece of self-righteous shit. Fuck you very much for the fabulous education, you stupid bitch.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  “Nothing, really. It was a split-second choice, you know, saving the lives of everyone there?”