067, 1/2

Erick woke with the sun, though it was hard to tell since the sun rose on the other side of the forest at the back of the house. It was early; Erick had not yet adjusted to the time change, but he couldn’t sleep any longer. He got up, then did his morning routine while Ophiel scratched at the bathroom door. When he was done, he exited the bathroom and peered over the edge of the balcony, down into the center of the house. The smell of meat and bread wafted on the air while the faintest tint of gold stretched across the western sky. Ophiel tackled Erick’s leg, quickly climbing up to his perch on Erick’s shoulder. Erick patted the little guy and took the steps down into the main living area, beside the open kitchen and the massive picture windows. Teressa was cooking.

“Good morning, Teressa,” Erick said. “Peaceful night?”

Teressa flipped a pancake with a spatula, as she said, “Perfectly boring.” She checked if the sausage was burning; it wasn’t. “Boring nights are great. Just the way I like it.”

Erick smiled. He asked, “Is Rats around?”

Teressa looked to the windows that were the western wall of Windy Manor, saying, “He’s out there working on something.”

Erick briefly looked to the window, then turned to Teressa, asking, “I have to ask: What was the fight we had when I was under the influence of that Dream Worm? Did Rats not want to come to Oceanside for some reason? Maybe to do with his [Greater Treat Wounds] Quest?” Erick added, “It’s gonna be hard to finish that thing here.”

Teressa smiled faintly, her lower fangs barely visible. “You weren’t yourself and when Jane made a joke about learning necromancy here, you focused in on Rats and his past. If you must know, you basically called him a necromancer. That started a whole big fight that does not matter because it wasn’t you saying those words.”

Erick listened, and he frowned. He asked, “Should I apologize?”

“No, you should not.” Teressa lifted the golden pancake from the pan and set it with a dozen others in a [Heat Ward]. “Best not to dwell on actions that were not under your control.” She poured more butter and batter into the pan, adding, “A lot of weird shit happens in Ar’Kendrithyst and we’ve all seen a lot of it; we know not to take offense at people under the influence of magic.”

Erick wondered how he felt about that, but whatever feelings swirled around in his chest, they were too complicated to vocalize. So he just said, “Okay.” He changed the subject, “Do you have any magic you want to work on while we’re here?”

“Not really.” She said, “But I heard about some of that Mana Sense training. If you’re going to do more of that, I’d like to come to those classes.”

Erick brightened. He said, “Absolutely! We can certainly do that.” He commiserated, “I’ve never been good at clearing my mind, so you might get a lot better than me at Mana Sense.”

Teressa flipped her pancake, saying, “From what I heard from Poi about your exchange with Professor Rue, a good Mana Sense should combine well with [Hunter’s Instincts].”

Erick hummed in thought. There might be a truth there, between [Hunter’s Instincts], Mana Sense, and an ability that seemed to be shared by both. Erick said, “She did mention something about feeling the flow of battle.”

Teressa said, “Yup.” She flipped the browned sausage into a [Heat Ward] to keep it warm, then put more sausage into the grease, saying, “I’ve never been great at clearing my mind either but it’s a common practice in hunting to ‘become one with the forest’.” She mushed the sausage into the grease, speaking with a somber tone, “I might be able to get some of it back.” She forced cheer into her voice, saying, “If any of those skills are related there might be something to pursuing Mana Sense through multiple vectors.”

Erick smiled, saying, “Maybe they are.”

Teressa went silent.

Erick asked, “Can I help you with anything? Anything else, that is? I want everyone to be comfortable here, since we might be sticking around for a while.”

Teressa looked out of the picture windows, saying, “Rats is out there. I think he needs more help than me.” She spoke softly, “Thanks. I’ll let you know if my answer changes.”

“Very good then.” Erick nodded, then went off to find Rats.

– – – –

Outside, the sun rose on the other side of the house, casting pale yellow glows across the tree tops. The blue, early morning twilight still hung heavy in the air, while the sound of churning waves, a hundred meters down the far cliffside, carried up across the grass lawn that separated the house from the edge. The garden to the right of the front lawn did little to muffle the sounds of the crashing waves, but it did serve to hide a redscale man, sitting crosslegged under a lemon tree, writing on a pad of paper.

As soon as Erick opened the door to the outside, though, Rats stood up from his spot.

He dismissed the paper, and said, “Morning, Boss. What’s up?”

“Teressa said you were working on something.” Erick said, “I was just wondering what it was, and if I could help.”

Rats briefly frowned toward the house, then said, “Just putting together what I know about parasites, trying to come up with a way to better defend against them.”

“I’m planning on taking Defensive Theory and Practice. That should cover some parasite defensive measures.” Erick said, “You’re invited, to that class, or any others.”

Rats smiled softly. “If it’s alright with you, I would like to try this stuff out on my own, for now.”

Erick pushed no further. He said, “Of course. Let me know if anything changes. And if you need me to do anything to make your stay more comfortable. I’m not sure how long we’ll be here.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

As Erick left Rats behind, Rats gazed out over the ocean, then went back to writing on his papers.

– – – –

Krigea showed up half an hour before morning classes. Erick invited her past the [Crystallize Air], into the house, and offered her coftea. Across from one another in the main living room, with steaming cups of cofftea on the short table beside the large windows, they began to hash out Erick’s schedule. Kiri and Poi were cleaning up breakfast, while Teressa finished eating hers at the kitchen table, further in the house.

Krigea said, “You’re welcome to stay and learn as long as you wish, but further bargains of trade might be prudent when it comes to some of the non-basic classes.” She added, “Though the library in the back of this house is stocked with all the books of this semester, so you won’t have to worry about purchasing those.”

“I noticed the books. Thank you, Krigea, and Headmaster. I’ve already looked over the books for the classes I want.” Erick said, “I can do more bargains, too. So that’s fine.”

“Has your list of classes adjusted since last we spoke?” she asked.

“Not really.” Erick listed, “Basic Spatial Magic, Basic Enchanting, Basic Defensive Theory, Basic Culture and Law, Basic World History, Warrior Training for Mages, Monster Ecology, and Esoteric Magic.” He added, “I’d also like to sit in on Ethics for the Warrior, and Dungeoneering, just to see what they’re all about.”

Krigea smiled. “Most of your chosen courses require more reading than attendance, though don’t tell the professors that. Therefore, there is no further need for you to pay to attend them.” She said, “But the Warrior classes, Esoteric Magic, and Dungeoneering, are hands-on courses, which might need further bargains or payment depending on the individual professors. Enchanting is also the most expensive course we offer; students are expected to provide their own materials.” She added, “Professor Rue Downs is one of the professors for Esoteric Magic. If you wish, I could make sure she is your professor. This would negate the need for another bargain of trade, as the Headmaster feels that you have already given Professor Rue more than enough.”

“That sounds fine.”

She asked, “Is this the full list of courses you wish to attend, then?”

“Oh. Uh.” Erick turned to Kiri, by the kitchen. “Which ones did you want?”

Kiri, her hands on a cleaning cloth, went from forlorn to overflowing excitement, to contained mirth, all in the span of half a second. She calmly said, “Destruction Magic for the Potential Archmage.”

Erick repeated to Krigea, “Destruction Magic for the Potential Archmage.”

Krigea asked, “The Headmaster will gladly teach you Archmagic, but this course when taught at Oceanside is much more than just the destructive magics taught at Tower Academy.” She added, “In particular, you would vastly benefit from Basic Defensive Theory, before you began Archmagic.”

Erick paused. “Really? He’s teaching it—” He said, “Oh. Right. Kiri said it was a non-standard course.”

Krigea looked off to the air, as a tendril of thought wiggled between her and elsewhere. She looked to Erick and said, “You’re only a week late for the new semester, and while that is easy enough to catch up on, the Headmaster would prefer to start Archmagic after midterms, in five weeks. If you are amenable to this idea, of course.”

“Two months? Okay.” Erick said, “That shouldn’t be a problem.” He said, “If financials become a problem I can just go hunt more wyrms.” He called over, “Right, Teressa?”

Teressa softly smiled, saying, “Aye, sir,” as she ate her pancake.

– – – –

Basic Spatial Magic had Erick sitting in a corner in the back of an auditorium of two hundred students. Kiri sat on one side, Krigea on the other, while Poi held near the back wall, standing with a few other bodyguards. Erick was obviously not the only big shot in the class room, but he was the only person over 40 in the audience; the other people with bodyguards must be young nobles, or something like that.

Of the class itself, Erick felt lost. Over the course of an hour, Erick discovered he had literally no idea what the fuck the professor up front was talking about. He also discovered that he needed to read at least three books before trying this class again. There was a lot of math involved; Erick was completely out of his comfort zone. So he just sat there, looking at the numbers the professor put on the board, vaguely knowing what they were, but not understanding how they all went together.

Kiri seemed to love the class, though. She zipped right along through the books, exactly in tune with the lesson plan going on up front.

Erick left that auditorium feeling drained, but there was no time to feel tired. The next class was already starting.

Basic Culture and Law was all about wars and treaties and history that Erick had never heard of, but he did get the distinct impression that his first opinion about what ‘The Law’ meant, was correct. For most of the world over, law was a byproduct of the various dictators around the world. Veird was a world of cities and enough countryside to grow enough food, and not much else.

Lunch came soon enough.

After lunch came Enchanting. All the professor talked about was taken word for word from the textbook, about using the rhymes in the textbook and pure metal and the appropriate amount of rads to pay for one instance of the spell, in this case: [Force Bolt]. If done correctly, meaning exactly how the book instructed, then the outcome would be a wand of [Force Bolt], with 1 charge. There was no space for ingenuity. There was no room for change. There was only the textbook.

A minor altercation occurred when one student raised his hand and the professor called on him. The student stood up, then looked back at Erick, then directly at the professor, and asked about other possible rhyming schemes. The professor shouted the boy down. The student rapidly sat back down, as the professor glared directly at Erick, and went right back to his lesson.

Erick kept his face perfectly even and innocent. He stayed for the rest of the lesson, because getting up and leaving would be a rude disturbance. The professor continued to teach from the book, sometimes reading whole passages, word for word.

And then the day was over.

In front of the picture windows of Windy Manor, Erick sat on the couch on one side of the tea table, with Ophiel on his lap and a book on Spatial Magic in his hands. He read about math, and diagrams, and edge cases, and tests other people had done, all while channeling mana through 8 Ophiels, across the ocean to the farms of Spur.

Papers laid spread out on the table in front of him, along with books of all kinds. Occasionally, Erick would switch from one book to another, trying to understand what he had just read. He did not understand a vast majority of what he was reading, but he understood some of it. When he got to the book on [Teleport]’s history, he understood that one a lot better, though it was still dense, with too many names and too many locations and not enough maps.

Kiri sat on the other side of the table, on the other couch, also reading.

– – – –

Erick stood on the front lawn of Windy Manor, and practiced [Teleport]. He had never really practiced the spell, because it always worked how he wanted it to work, until recently; until he wanted the spell to work how it wasn’t supposed to work. The problem, according to the books, was partially based on [Teleport]’s history.

[Teleport] was originally not part of the Script. Even a century after the Sundering, the scattered peoples of the world were dying due to a hundred different reasons, from the Rage of the Orcols causing a world wide war, to the new monsters unlike all that had come before, to the death of all the Halfs, including the Old Dragonkin and the death of the original dragon settlement in the northern forests of Glaquin. No one was safe, anywhere. All of the Alvani had just been killed by the Old Demons. It was a tumultuous time. And what was worse, was that cities under siege called for help from the rest of the world, only for that help to arrive too late. Civilization itself was dying.

Ultimately, the monsters of Veird were too strong.

[Teleport] was the solution to this problem. It allowed help to move around the world. It linked people and cultures. It strengthened the backbone of Civilization, and allowed people to fight against those who could not use such magic, like the spreading wyrms, and the Raging Orcols, and the monsters.

After decades of horror, [Teleport] proved its power. Problems were contained, or solved, or learned to live with. But then came the aftermath, where [Teleport] was used, and then abused, almost causing yet another apocalypse. And then Rozeta changed the spell.

For the rest of history up until today, [Teleport] has remained the same: a difficult spell, purposefully made that way, that only shifts for those who truly know what they’re doing, or for Champions. Erick had no real idea what he was doing, and he wasn’t about to become a Champion; not today, anyway. His only hope of progressing on this spell would be to use some knowledge from Earth. Maybe.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Erick conjured a thin wall of stone, maybe an eighth of an inch thick. He put his hand on the wall, and imagined a tunnel from his side of the structure, to the other; a hole, a [Gate]. [Teleport] merely put him on the other side of the stone. He turned around to look at the wall. He frowned. He tried again, and again. And again. Nothing changed; he just [Teleport]ed from one side of the wall to the other.

As the sun began to set, Erick summoned two [Teleporting Platforms], then set them vertical and apart, like two doors separated by five meters of air. Both of the platforms were completely identical, right down to the ‘teleport’ symbol carved in white Force into the stone. Erick pressed his hand against one, and cast [Teleport], imagining a tunnel connecting him from one platform to the other. Erick popped out of the air next to the other platform, with no blue box, and no [Gate] summoned between the stones.

Erick channeled mana through [Teleport], revealing a second white hand that trailed his original as he moved his arm through the air, like he was seeing double.

He hummed. He activated [Detect Intent Aura]. Twilight became a snowstorm as Erick channeled mana through [Teleport]. He saw his own hand, and the secondary hand, exactly as he had seen them without [Detect Intent Aura], but with the aura, the brightness of the secondary hand was more than enough to overcome the snow in his vision. Erick slammed his infused hand against one platform, imagining the second hand going all the way to the other platform, still hovering five meters away.

Imagining the second hand moving did nothing.

Erick expected that. But he had another trick up his sleeve. Erick had played around a lot with [Teleport]. He had gotten more than enough skill with the spell to ‘halfway-activate’ the spell; to choose the destination without actually appearing there. Upon choosing the destination —the second [Teleporting Platform]— the second white hand vanished. Erick frowned. He lifted his hand from the platform and chose a different destination, one right next to him. The hand appeared in the air beside Erick. Okay. That made perfect sense. Obviously he couldn’t see the secondary hand when it was out of sight. Duh.

With a little bit more testing, Erick discovered that he could ‘control’ the white hand by adjusting his own [Teleport] destination. Occasionally, he overshot his ‘half-cast’ of [Teleport] and actually [Teleport]ed, but mostly, Erick learned a bit more control. Soon, he was wiggling white fingers, while his flesh and bone fingers stayed still. And then he realized what he was doing.

Erick moved the ‘target’, exactly as if he was choosing a destination for his [Teleport].

“Oh my gods,” Erick said, disappointed in himself. “The duplicate hand is the destination. Right. This is what I am proving to myself, isn’t it.”

Erick cut his [Detect Intent Aura]. The snow over his sight vanished, and so did the control he had over the white hand, or rather, the controlled white hand vanished, only to be replaced with the normal, uncontrollable second hand he usually had when he channeled mana through [Teleport].