Millennial Mage

Tala and Mistress Airim stood in silence for a long minute before Tala cleared her throat. “You know, I am not a reality Mage.”

The Constructionist frowned. “Of course you aren’t, Mistress. Reality and void magic don’t really mix. Well,”—she laughed self-deprecatingly—"reality and any magic don’t really mix.”

“Then, what did you mean?”

“I meant, why have you exposed yourself to the powers of reality?”

“I didn’t really have a choice.” Tala didn’t elaborate. Part of her wanted to, but anything short of a full retelling would create more questions than it answered, and she had no interest in imparting such, even if Mistress Airim was interested in hearing it.

After a moment’s pause, Mistress Airim simply nodded, clearly understanding that Tala wasn’t going to say any more. “Very well. I can see that you aren’t really influenced by reality.” She snorted a soft chuckle. “I, of course, mean that in the best of ways. Let’s finish the analysis.”

-Hey, that was a good one. You should remember it for later.-

Tala simply sighed, not really interested in laughing at the moment.

The Bound nodded to herself, focused on Flow once more. “Bound and bound and overlaid and merged.” She looked at Tala. “Part of the weapon is within your body as well?”

“Oh.” The woman hesitated, then her eyes widened. “Oh! Oh… oh, my. That sounds like…” Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “I don’t mean to pry, but did you somehow find the corpse of a dasgannach?”

“I… no? Are they even special after they die?” I have the gold one in Kit, somewhere…

-No, you left that behind.-

Involuntarily…

Mistress Airim was obviously unaware of Tala’s inner griping, so she simply answered. “I’ve never seen one myself, but I imagine it would retain some magic.”

“I suppose… but we’re off topic. Is the ‘what’ that important?”

She made a non-committal noise. “For this? Probably not. For you? Undoubtedly. I hope you have some very knowledgeable mentors, whatever caused this tangle.”

“Is it that bad?”

“A well-knit sweater can be called a tangle, Mistress. This makes that look like a child’s drawing beside an ancient masterpiece. It was not meant derisively.”

“Oh… so, is it good?”

“Absolutely! If you can make it work for you, and it seems like you can. At least you’re still alive, so that’s something.”

Tala huffed a laugh. “I suppose that’s true enough.”

Mistress Airim looked back down at Flow. “I think I’ve sussed out most of what I need, here. It really is a fascinating weapon you’ve nurtured, Mistress.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled. “The fact that this beauty will need a morphic sheath actually makes the whole process easier on us both, as I don’t need to keep your weapon with me for the construction, and I’m not constrained based on size.”

“That’s good to know.” Tala could understand how having the sheath need to reshape would give a lot more flexibility in the original construction. I hadn’t actually considered that as a positive.

“So, what timeframe do you need this by?”

Tala shrugged. “I can’t spar for another couple of weeks, so I don’t need it before then. Even so, I’d prefer it sooner rather than later.”

“So not a rush job, but not a ‘take my time’ project either?”

She shrugged again. “That was my thinking, yes.”

“Alright.” Mistress Airim nodded, mostly to herself, as she continued to contemplate.

“So, you can do it?”

She gave Tala an odd look. “Of course.”

The woman’s instant assurance made Tala a bit nervous, so she asked another question to verify a key point, “Will you be able to block the conceptual manipulation?”

The woman barked a laugh. “No, not at all, but for your purposes, yes.”

Tala frowned. “That makes no sense.”

“Oh, but it does.” The Constructionist grinned. “Nothing that I know of could block this conceptual manipulation if it tried to enact. What I would normally do—if such an insane project had come across my worktable before—is add a layer of iron, protected between two layers of the sheath, sealing the conceptual magics away. You can probably guess how well that would work in this case.”

“Ahh… I see.”

“Exactly. Your weapon would claim the iron, and it would cease to be effective almost immediately.” She hesitated. “Most likely. In any case, I wouldn’t trust it in the slightest, as it would either fail instantly or be unnecessary.”

Tala grimaced. “So, that’s just a no.” Well, that’s frustrating.

“It is, but your real purpose in asking, I assume, is to ensure that you don’t harm your sparring partners, correct?”

“That’s right.” She felt a bit of hope returning. She did not want to have to spar without Flow.

“Then, that isn’t a concern. Your weapon’s conceptual nonsense should only act on that which you cut—or intend to cut and contact… maybe. It might not be enacted in that second case.” Mistress Airim hesitated, narrowing her eyes in thought. “It might also work if you simply… no, no. Forget that. The manipulation of ownership is decidedly tied to what is cut.”

And I can manipulate iron that I own, now.

-That’s what it seems like, yeah.-

“Alright, I think I understand. So, just having any sheath over it will protect against the conceptual danger?”

“Well, any effective sheath? Yes. Remember, though, this weapon is still growing into your new advancement. I wouldn’t trust a mundane sheath, nor any made for you before you were Fused. I am obviously biased, but that is my professional opinion. Anything weaker will risk shattering under the magical weight of your strikes.”

“Good to know. I assumed as much, actually.” Tala bit her lip in thought. “What will be the implications for the portion of the weapon in my body?”

“Well, as long as you don’t somehow turn the iron in your body into a cutting or piercing… something, you should be fine?”

Tala opened her mouth, then closed it, frowning. Oh… I did not consider that.

“You can actually do that?” The woman’s eyes widened slightly, but then she shook her head. “Of course you can.” She sighed. “I don’t know that I have a solution for you, there.”

“No suggestions at all?”

“Well, if you can find a way to keep the attacks sheathed? It won’t blunt the hits, like the sheath I’ll be making for this lovely weapon, but it would keep the concept of ownership from being altered.”

I could maybe add a layer of the white steel over anything I try to create with the iron? It’s not like I’ll be throwing my iron around. Tala shuddered internally at the very idea of losing another bit of metal. Though, I suppose it will just vanish, now, rather than being severed. So, that’s a plus?

-Definitely a plus.-

Tala nodded. “Alright. I think I can make that work.” A thought came to her, and she was suddenly unsure. “Mistress Airim?”

“Yes?” The Constructionist seemed to hear the uncertainty in Tala’s voice. “What did you just think of?”

“How can you make a sheath capable of containing a weapon above your advancement?”

Mistress Airim snorted. “That’s like asking a tailor: ‘You’re short, how can you make clothes for people taller than you.”

Tala opened her mouth then closed it, tilting her head to one side. “Those aren’t the same… are they?”

“Well, I’m not going to be using the sheath myself. You’re the one who will be powering it; well, your weapon will anyways. I just need to make the magics capable of operating under that level of power, just like a tailor making a bigger set of clothing.”

“Oh… I guess that makes sense, I suppose.” Tala cleared her throat. “So, what does it look like to you, time wise?”

“I can fit it in over the next week.”

“That’s very workable, thank you. What will this cost?”

“A baseline sparring sheath for a bound weapon would be ten silver. Double that for a morphic sheath, unless it is for a Paragon or above in which case double it if it isn’t a morphic sheath—those things are incredibly complicated and fitting into a small space is more expensive and difficult than just making a morphic sheath.” Mistress Airim seemed to realize she was rambling because she paused, cleared her throat, and continued back on the matter at hand. “Now, increase that cost by a factor of ten per advancement, so that’s an increase of twenty times in this case. So, ten times two, times one hundred. That’s two thousand silver which is twenty gold?” She thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I can do this for twenty gold.”

Tala considered the price and offered item for a moment, before she finally agreed. It was stunningly expensive, but honestly, it was less than she’d feared it might be. “Would there be any negative from making it for a higher advancement?” That would be only five times the price, and the result would be a bit future-proof. Better than buying this now, then having to buy the more expensive one later.

Mistress Airim hesitated. “As the sheaths I make are designed to mesh with the weapon, the strain will fall mainly on the weapon, but you will still bear the magical load. Unless you have a rusting insane throughput, I’d say absolutely not. Even if you do, is that really where you want so much of your power going?”

Tala thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “No, you’re right. I’ll match the grade.”

“That does seem wiser. You should be fine for early Paragon usage as well, unless you really hate your sparring partner and plan on putting a truly insane amount of power behind your attacks against them.”

Tala huffed a laugh. “I suppose that makes sense. Is an Archive transfer acceptable, or do you need hard coinage?”

“Archive transfer is fine. Let me get a contract all set.”

Mistress Airim walked to a side table and picked up a slate. After a moment of manipulation, she brought it over to Tala, the contents now a simple contract of creation as described, for the agreed to price.

This specific contract would hold the funds in escrow until the item was delivered or the time elapsed, in this case two weeks to give a buffer for unforeseen circumstances.

They both confirmed the agreement, causing the slate’s surface to shift to a green stone for just a moment.

Mistress Airim bowed, a smile plain on her face, “Thank you for your time and patronage, Mistress Tala.”

“Thank you for fitting in my project.” Tala bowed in turn and left.

Mistress Airim waved her out with a smile, and Tala closed the door behind herself.

With her near perfect memory, Tala walked out through the mazelike system of hallways without issue.

She thanked the attendants in their side room as she passed by and walked back out into the city streets.

You know, as nice as this is…?

-Yes?-

Simply being in a city is getting really old…

-You’ve gotten too used to danger and adventure, it seems.-

Is that a bad thing?

-Only if it causes you to make foolish choices. Remember, many people spend their whole lives, trying to achieve what you have, now. That doesn’t mean you have to like it or settle, but try to see it for the value this life has, even if just to others.-

Tala only grunted.

A couple of minutes passed as she walked before she broached a new topic. I think I want to go to Marliweather on my own.

-Not with a caravan or any travel group?-

No. Once I’m fully settled, I’ll be fine, and I can go faster too.

-That should work. Terry would probably like a romp in the wilds, too.-

Less than three weeks, and I’ll be set.

-Beat up Rane before you go?-

Tala chuckled at that. He’s a squirrelly one in the ring, but I think I can pin him down.

-You’ll finally go see the Guards before you’re on your way?-

She grimaced. Yeah… I really should visit them…

-You really should.-

Tala’s thoughts were interrupted by a man who was walking in the same direction as her, having just turned to walk parallel, coming from a side street.

He didn’t address her. In fact, he seemed to be utterly engrossed in the book he was carrying.

Besides, he was a good ten feet away.

What drew her attention was the fact that he was humming and singing to himself, snapping his free hand to the beat of the song.

Tala didn’t really know why that drew her attention to that man in particular; people often made unconscious sounds when thinking, and with her enhanced senses, she heard far more of it than she’d ever realized was possible.

Even so, something had Tala on edge, so she paid attention by way of a mirrored perspective.

Maybe it’s the environment? The feeling of oddity was building before he arrived.

-Could be. You’re just focusing on him because he stands out in a situation that already has you on edge.-

Maybe…

The young-looking man occasionally pointed in random directions in conjunction with the lyrics sung by whatever minstrel he was mimicking.

Tala felt a sinking feeling she couldn’t explain as he sang the next verse.

“No matter where you hide, I’ll find you, you, you. I see what you really are and that’s the truth, truth, truth.”

She didn’t have time to ponder the awful rhyme, because he pointed straight at a nearby building seemingly at random.

As he uttered the last words and pointed, something seemed to click in the world around them, and Tala immediately recognized the feeling: Magical taps on her mind, now that she was focused on that building.

Tala’s eyes widened in dawning alarm as the rhythm of magical taps changed, speeding up and becoming more focused on her.

The young man had already moved on with his singing, clearly not actually focused on the magical creature that he’d accidently drawn her attention to.

It tried to invade her mind and push her attention away, but it was weak, and she held her concentration and resisted with basically no effort.

What is this? A syphon for ants? Surely, no mundane would actually fall to this weak power. It had to be directed towards animals or insects.

-No, you’ve just gotten a lot sturdier, mentally.-

It was then that two small eyes opened, high up on the walls of the little shop. They looked around, searching, and stopped to stare directly at her.

Oh… that’s a syphon, and I stared at it too long so it knows that I know it’s there. What were the chances of that happening?

Before an answer presented itself, the street exploded with power as tendrils shot out in all directions, knocking people from their feet.

Only Tala and the odd man managed to keep their balance.

Tala drew Flow and bisected a flailing syphon appendage down the length, sweeping her weapon to the side to cut it off completely, even as the blood around her surrendered its iron to her weapon.

Thick, clear liquid sloshed onto the ground around her.

Wow, that was quite effective, actually. The single attack seemed to have drained a disproportionate amount of energy from the young syphon as well.

In the same second, the man drew and slammed a mace into the attack that had been sent his way, resulting in a destroyed syphon tendril with gore and blood showering the street.

The guy looked around, seeming a bit aghast. “Oh… oops.”

Tala glanced his way. “Oops? You didn’t expect the blood? Have you never fought before?”

He glanced back. “Well, of course I expected the gore. I hunt all the time. I just didn’t think about coating the mundanes.” His face scrunched briefly before he just shrugged.

They continued deflecting and cutting apart attacks as his rapidfire words just kept coming.

“Little known fact, though: syphon blood is good for your skin. So, they should be fine, better than fine, actually.”

Tala blinked at him a few times. “What? Why does that matter?”

They jumped away as more attacks slammed down. Each of them snatched up a prone pedestrian, moving them from the path of impacts.

Now is hardly the time for questions, Tala. Get down to business. “I’m Tala. Clear the civilians. I’ll keep it occupied.”

“Pavrimax, I can help!”

“Getting them to safety is a help. You can fight after.”

Pavrimax grimaced briefly then nodded decisively. “Fine!”

The syphon was barely orange to Tala’s magesight, now that it had unveiled itself. Even so, it was physically powerful, and she really shouldn’t let herself be harmed, bodily.

Well, stab to gain ownership, eh?

-Tala? I don’t think—-

Tala didn’t let Alat finish.

In a single motion, she powered Flow into the form of a sword and threw it with all her might into the syphon-building’s center, just a half-dozen yards away.

The blade whirled in sharp circles, slashing deeply through the outer reaches of the beast to stick firmly near the center.

As the blade embedded into the creature, Tala threw her magical weight behind a newer aspect of the magics that she found within her soul-bound weapon.

Unfortunately, it did nothing special, mainly because her efforts were rebuffed.

The claiming of iron wasn’t a question of magical weight, at least not in a way that she could enhance.

Even so, she could feel iron being claimed from the beast’s ichor by the second, and the whole building shuddered, seemingly pulling in on itself.

Clear liquid was streaming out of the slashes that Flow had made before landing, and Tala could feel her power overcoming the vastly lower magics of the magical parasite.

The tendrils of the syphon were still flailing about, but they now lacked power, bouncing off buildings, the street, and even mundanes who were still trying to get further away.

The hits to buildings caused rumblings, but no cracks.

The impacts with the road sent up plumes of snow but didn’t upset the pavement.

Even the people who were hit only stumbled, most not even falling to the ground.

Pavrimax came sliding back through the slush, taking up a runner’s stance, seemingly about to lunge at the building.

“Stop.” Tala held up her hand. “It’s dying. Don’t go in where it has more strength left to use against you.”

“But there are people inside.”

Tala frowned, taking on a mindset close to that she used as an Eskau. “I don’t see anyone, nor do I hear them. Did you see anyone, and could they have been illusions?”

He shrugged. “It’s more a hunch.”

Tala opened her mouth to say more, but the man, the Archon, was already gone in a burst of power.

Immaterial Creator?

-Or Guide, hard to tell, but I’d say momentum or kinetic energy focused, outwardly aspected.-

Yeah, clearly.

Master Pavrimax slammed through the remaining walls, eliciting a subdued roar of outrage from the struggling beast.

To her surprise, Tala heard a few exclamations of overwhelmed relief before the Archon blasted back out, carrying three precariously balanced people.

As he jerked to a halt beside Tala, the people went tumbling away, and Tala heard some pops and cracks which might have been bones breaking. This elicited more groans from the three people.

“One more!” Master Pavrimax vanished once again, even faster this time, and returned with a man who also tumbled from the Archon’s arms to land in a heap with the others.

There were ongoing whimpers of pain from all four.

Tala turned a confused glare on the man. “Why weren’t you more careful? Couldn’t you have—”

The syphon let out a last pitiful gasp and crumpled in on itself, utterly crushing everything still within the building.

She hesitated only a moment before letting out a sigh and shaking her head. “Ahh. Well, good job I suppose?”

“Thank you, Mistress Tala. I do try.”

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