by Rose Francis
It was odd behavior for a nymph.
“Of course, not,” I answered, finding the words with a hidden clumsiness.
His head ticked, in that moneyed way that told me he was satisfied that we understood one another, and he turned his attention to the podium at the room's middle.
I forced a calm over myself before my mind took into a more frenzied rambling than would be useful at such a moment. I'd been taken aback by the halfie since the rail-ride and had a sure mixed-conflict now faced with the possibility of his lingering presence.
My gaze drifted to him several times, covertly, though I felt he must have sensed my attention, and then my focus turned to the council liaison, at the sound of him clearing his throat, and our briefing session commenced.
I entertained the lingering thought that I'd have to place a rein on my wandering eyes before my admiration became apparent to anyone. I was here on duty, and I didn't need my credibility threatened so early in my career. There were ambitions I fully intended to see come to fruition, and that would require a fair number of votes from my brethren.
The halfie was a stark beauty, though, one who easily possessed the power to strike a grown man quiet. And there'd been more than his beauty in the seriousness of his gaze when he'd looked at me. Into me. He was aware of his power and had obviously already decided which of his own ambitions to pursue. He was quite different than the hub-nubs milking the accrued monies of their forebears – with aimless class selections and choices of field duty.
“By now you've all had a moment to check your scanserv screens, and you're no doubt unsurprised, even by the timing of the noxic's appearance.”
Orsman Black. Calming us, convincing us we expected it.
I'd worked with him on a few border runs. He was a serious character, the perfect choice to take the lead of our defense preparations. I relaxed in my seat at the realization of what kinds of hands we were in, and crossed a leg casually over the other.
Feeling the slight turn of the halfie's head, a flush went through me, and I was suddenly aware that my cheeks might have reddened under his brief assessment. His attention made the surface of my skin prickle with anticipation, and several images from the previous night rose to the forefront of my mind.
I bit my lip against them, and forced my focus to the image the council liason placed on the larger projector flashing to life in the chilled room.
“What little we know of the noxic comes from our early time spent with them in the lab. We've learned a few of their biological weaknesses and one or two of their magical vulnerabilities. It's hoped we'll have an agent developed in time that can be used to subdue or arrest them as the need arises.”
Something in his tone made me tense with warning.
“The problem we face is the mystery of their number and the magical power supporting them at this time. These are fiery creatures who utilize a natural infusion process to increase their numbers.”
I swallowed my nerves. Infusion was a nightmare no one wanted to fall victim to.
The liaison drew a labored breath.
“I don't have to tell you what the mammoth-sized problem an infusing species can have on the entirety of our collective and the overall community at large. Utter seriousness and dedication will be required of you as we ready ourselves for an attack that could come at any moment.”
He stopped, his steel and smoke eyes panning our group.
“We'll be assigning the best of the best as project leads for each step of this process. Please take a moment to cast your votes in your scanservs for the positions we've anticipated having a need of.”
The mass of magicians gathered in the room exchanged glances as we considered who best to elect before we dove into the list appearing on our screens.
The positions scrawled there were crucial.
Bio-defense.
Magical strategy.
Field prep.
Genetic Manipulation.
This last already bore two names, of which we must be meant to choose from. I knew Connor Lorphin, but the other name was utterly new to me, and I'd been there for a long time.
Who was Adair Ian ?
The liaison let a good stretch of time pass as we read the biographies of our collective magical body, paying close attention to exam points and details of lab and field experience. This wasn't a threat that a novice should handle, even a genius one.
My mind continued to flick to the unknown name, but soon Orsman Black's voice was seizing our collective attention again.
“After a brief breakfast, we'll return to our initial preparations before everyone is divided into groups. After the selection of the official teams, we'll break off into our respective groups and nurture our defensive line, piece by piece. The green notification on your user bar contains the morning's menu. Thank you.”
Instinctually turning my gaze to the nymph, I gave him a serviceable nod before looking away, my gut going slightly fuzzy under his piercing gaze, and I returned my attention to the last votes, checking off my final choices.
~
Breakfast was pleasant but solemn.
You could hear the clink of forks against every bowl and plate in the room, the setting of tea saucers, and the occasional rumble of clipped conversation.
None of us seemed particularly enthused about the tasks set ahead of us, and there was a considerable amount of mental chaos to sort through. Fear-laden what-ifs and all manner of possible outcomes.
The mind likes outcomes it feels it can predict, but we were up against an enemy who wore mystery like a birthright. We should be thankful for the little bit of data we did have.
The tangy sweet of the lemon-berry tea sliding down my throat, I lifted another hashbrown to mouth and thanked the gods for the many wonders of the potato plant. There was no shortage of its bliss across the land. It was one of the few wild crops that grew without the tending hand of dedicated farmers.
The Advisory Council told us we didn't have the resources for farmers. Our runners gathered our food, and it was all from the wild. Or so we were told. I was fairly sure some of it must at least be grown in one of the labs hidden behind the veils from all but those deemed to have a need to be in the know.
Our new enemy was born in those sorts of labs, so we all knew they were there – even with the mistakes that had a tendency of emerging from them and biting us in the asses.
My eyes flicked up to the nymph. He'd been quiet for the entirety of our meal.
“Do you study in a dedicated field?”
It took me all of fifteen minutes to work up the courage to speak to him. He had such a solemn, deadpan way about him, I found it necessary to prepare myself for his reaction. His desire to speak to me had seemed rooted only in his desire to remain confidential, to ensure I, the one who'd somewhat pierced the veil of his mystery, kept my mouth shut about his blood-ties to the world of the nymphs.
I'd felt the sure need to speak, to break up the near-deafening silence, the endless clinking and slurping of tea.
I hoped I hadn't come off too inquisitive. Wasn't sure of his limits. He reeked of enigma and seemed like someone who intended to guard it jealously. Besides, I never like appearing to be too concerned with anything.
I'm amiable, but no one would ever accuse me of making myself too emotionally available to any but those I hold closest to my heart. And those parties were the only who knew who they are.
I understood the need for privacy in this world. Especially as vulnerability can serve just as well as magical energy, as currency in the chaos world we all battled our way through on a daily basis.
The nymph spared me a brief glance, an off-putting kind of time-constrained regard that didn't suggest he had even the slightest interest in me or what I might have to say to him. He only seemed keen to observe the necessary social manner magicians require to work together as a collective.
“I study several areas.”
There. An answer that was at its heart a non-answer. Politely delivere
d, it didn't sting. I hadn't expected him to pour his heart out to me, nor had I desired it. I wasn't sure what I wanted exactly, maybe only to draw closer. Speaking to him had been almost visceral and inherently unplanned.
I let his answer sit on the air, giving it to the background of clinking metal and china. Drawing another sip of tea, I grabbed up my breakfast sandwich for a quick bite, and took a spoonful of sugared, mixed-meal, still with my awareness on him.
My attention took on an alter-life of its own, measuring his micro-movements and the slight clearing of his throat that only just touched the air. Even his manneurisms were beautiful. But that was nymphs for you. They were grace incarnate, surely a gift our chaotic world was given to ease the many troubles we faced in the thick of this terrain on a regular basis.
What was this fascination I'd already taken with him? I couldn't afford it. Not now.
“I imagine there are a few more species lined up. All posing different dangers and requiring different strategies. Why then focus on just the one,” a voice trailed in the background, loud enough to invite engagement from anyone in the room.
“Of all we know to be missing, these are surely the worst. I imagine the council has stratagem in place for the others,” another voice chimed.
The clinking of tea cups.
“To my recollection they were rather benign in comparison, yes,” a hobnobby voice that sounded rather impressed with itself confirmed.
I bit back a sigh, the underside of it trailing just loud enough to catch the attention of the nymph.
“They'll go on for hours,” he offered casually.
I grinned.
“If no one puts a stop to it, they surely will.”
Our eyes met, and a jagged strip of electricity shot through me. I wondered if it did the same to him, as well.
“Adair,” he said.”
“Colin,” I answered.
~
Adair.
I stood next to him at the head of our small group, somewhat overwhelmed at the prospect of having been voted into a leading position. I wasn't sure I was qualified to deal with this beast as a leader, but I'd aim to give it everything I had. At the end of the day, it was a team effort.
Breakfast and tea still warming our bellies, we'd likely make good headway today without too much strain. I looked forward to getting into the meat of the work. For all we knew, a breach of our 'medium-secure' sanctuary might seek us out that evening. We'd do well to at least have the magical end of things prepared, if not the bio-work.
“We'll split into teams. Mixers with Adair, Sigilists with myself. Let's reconvene at the hour's end and share notes on what we've got.”
Our fellow magicians stood before workstations, wide-eyed and alert. At the close of my suggestion, the mixers switched stations to draw close to one another, and sparing me a glance, Adair went off with his fold.
I had to force my eyes away when he strode off, his gait confident and assessingly subdued, like one who considered most, if not all, of his actions before engaging in them.
He was beautiful in a way that disarmed me and made me take notice, even when I should be placing my entire focus on more vital matters.
Forcing my eyes to my group, I cleared my throat, grabbed up the books we'd be taking notation in and made my way to the head table siding the left of the room.
“The notes passed on by the council advise us of structural vulnerabilities that dissolve in the face of copper-silver alloys imbued with the words of Mark the Seventh. The dissolution lasts a duration of ten minutes at minimum, making double and triple chants necessary as the creature builds a temporary resistance. A second line of magical defense is surely needed after the second hour.”
I nodded my head at the sharp rise of a hand, one attached to a wide-eyed super-study of a magician. His eyes held the sort of innocence that gave me hope for the coming rockstars of the magical community.
This guy right here might be one in the making.
“Might there be sigils that can prolong the effects of the enchanted alloy?”
I nodded.
“Mm. They tried that. If there are, they've not yet been discovered.”
The raising of his hand again.
“Yes?”
“Will we be devoting time to looking for an effective sigil?”
It was a thought, but the sigil we'd need would likely need to be ancient to overcome these particular beasties.
“If we have someone studied enough to conduct the search quickly, it sounds like a reasonable consideration to set time aside for.”
Again, his hand...
“Mm?”
“I am well-studied in all but the sigil books at the clearance level of the Advisory Council.”
A tick of a smile touched my mouth.
“Then you're just the magician for the job.”
~
We broke from our session with two solid strategies and one very intent sigilist promising to research as many of the old tomes as we might grant him access to. It was an exhausting session, but fruitful by most standards. With one potion and a cloud vapor pumped out forcefield style, we'd come upon a solid defense and a potential offense for the field.
Running my fingers through my hair in that pre-occupied way I tend to when I'm too wound up to sleep, my eyes took notice of Adair gathering up the last of his books. The lab room was empty now, all except for the duo that was us. And even if I still felt like a bit of a schoolboy around him, I liked that we'd been placed in a lead capacity together.
Something about his manner told me I might not have an opportunity to draw closer to him otherwise. Even with the pressure to form a solid defense against the noxic, I couldn't escape the fact that I was inexplicably drawn to him. Not even the fear of almost certain death-by-transformation into a horrid bio-hybrid seemed to deter it.
Gathering up my books and packing them in the carry box we were provided with (so we might engage in hours of potentially unnecessary reading), I bit my lip against the urgency pushing me to invite him somewhere.
Anywhere.
I wanted to know this mystery that was Adair.
Maybe if I could snatch a half-hour of his time, I might figure out why he was all but stealing my attention away from a very important and potentially career-building survival project.
It was a lame idea, though, wasn't it? He clearly wanted to be alone. Even the standoffish way he allowed the silence to close around us suggested he preferred me with my mouth closed.
Who needed the distraction?
Focus, Colin.
Training my breath, I flicked the lock on the hand-held trunk and lowered it to the ground, heading over to the wall-rack and snatching up my coat, I shook it out and slid my arms into it, lifting my eyes involuntarily to meet Adair's.
A now familiar flush went through me, and I prayed it didn't touch my cheeks. Managing a casual tick of a smile, I scrambled my brain for something, anything to say.
Seize the moment, as they say.
Why was I doing this?
“We have an entire week of reading ahead of us.”
“Surely we're expected to accomplish it in a fraction of that time.”
My smile widened. He was responding to me, less aloof than before if I wasn't imagining it.
“We'll have to stock up on energy brews, surely, to accomplish that.”
“You enjoy your energy brews. I'm in the market for a stiff drink and a good night's sleep. We can always do the necessary skimming in the morning before session.”
My heart leapt a bit at his statement. It was a sure opening. Maybe he wanted company?
“A stiff drink and a bit of slacking is probably the wiser road. We have a hell of a lot of work ahead of us.”
“That we do.”
Fuck it.
“I have an open tab at the lower watering hole if you're game.”
4
He'd shown reserve at first, then something inside of him appeared to open up like he'd been str
uck by the thought that we only live once, and the world was falling anyway...
His eyes sweeping over me before his expression steeled against whatever secret thing had obviously crossed his mind, he clenched his jaw slightly and gave me a casual shrug.
“Why not? There may well be days ahead when we'll wish we had taken the time to snatch the smallest of joys.”
It was a dark thought, but one I couldn't refute. The potential for doom had certainly settled in over our heads, and it was anyone's guess how much time we had before it grew into something monstrously feral and increasingly difficult to deter.
Gathering up our small trunks then, we made our way towards the door. I flicked off the necessary lights, and we made our way out of the room. It was a nice feeling, having him near. The narrowness of the halls ensured we drew close as we passed over the metal strips holding up the Dau shells forming a floor of dark, pearlescent squares tiling the halls and ramps, up and down the repository tower.
We were silent but easy as we walked, drawing closer to the arches and tunnels, past the few trading posts still open at this hour. I felt a twinge of nostalgia for what hadn't even passed in that moment. That was the way gloom worked, first making its way into your thoughts, then your feelings, and finally your sinews.
The wise knew better than to give it power, but I'd never been faced with dangers of this magnitude, with the prospect of soon finding the world over-run with predatory creatures who possessed formidable defenses and the dreaded horde touch.
I possessed impressive skills, and even courage. That had been proven days before. I could overcome these things if I kept my head.
My eyes flicked up to spy Orsman Black, and I gave him a serious nod, one that told him I understood the graveness of our situation. It was a thing. You drew up with the officials, like you needed to prove yourself to them at every step. And now especially, you wanted them to know that you were the candidate they could count on.