Millennial Mage

Tala had gotten the ball rolling on her business with the Constructionists’ and Culinary Guilds. It was time to handle some long-term items; she needed to delve into Fusing.

She knew that task was before her, a hurdle that she needed to overcome, but she hadn’t given it the attention it deserved.

Towards that end, she’d decided to climb to the top of Makinaven, in search of a quiet place to meditate and contemplate the potential paths before her.

She was well on her way when she was startled out of her musings.

Tala had decided to walk to give herself more time to contemplate, so Terry was currently asleep on her shoulder. At the moment, she was passing by a large, open shaft.

The shaft itself wasn’t that odd. Tala had seen a few scattered around the circumference of the city, though she had yet to investigate their purpose.

No, what caught her eye was the man walking very close, past it. That, by itself, was dangerous enough, but the man seemed to have a penchant for dangerous things. He was missing a leg, and seemed to have a round, short, thick stick grafted into the stump. Magic suffused both the wood and his leg around the joining.

What is that? I should just ask him. “Ummm… hi.” Tala suddenly felt really awkward. She had spoken before thinking through exactly what she wanted to say, or even what she wanted from the interaction. That was foolish…

The man gave her a quizzical look. “Mistress? What can I do for you?”

She cleared her throat, forcing an attempt at a friendly smile. “Can I ask you a bit of a personal question?”

He shrugged. “I suppose you can always ask.”

“Are those inscriptions I see, linking you with the wood?”

A grin split his face, and he looked down, lifting his peg. “You could see those, eh? Even through the pants?”

“I can.”

“Mages really are something special.” He shook his head, his smile staying firmly in place. “Yeah.” He patted the peg. “Wood from this very tree.” He gestured around them. “The inscriptions bind it to me, allowing me a degree of control over some things here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I can focus the great tree’s energies to build walls or weaken the links to allow for walls or other structures to be moved or removed.”

Tala hadn’t thought about that. The great tree repaired itself so quickly: How could they ever modify the interior? Now, she knew. “Fascinating. So, why…?” She felt awkward, again, allowing her question to trail off.

“Why replace a limb? The wood Mages say that it makes us more ‘one’ with the tree. Gives our instructions more weight. Authority?” He shrugged. “Seems to work well enough for me.”

“Why a leg? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I like having my hands.” He spread his fingers wide and grinned. “Some replace a hand or arm. A few opt for just a finger as that much, at least, is required to do any sort of construction work. The more flesh replaced, the greater the connection and authority. It’s not the only factor, but it is a big one.” He tapped his peg on the ground. “This is the largest section that most are willing to part with, even if it is regrown in retirement. I’m a foreman because of this beauty.” He smiled proudly.

“That truly is fascinating.” Tala took another moment to study his leg. “I’m Tala, by the way. What’s your name? I apologize for waylaying you.” She gave a genuine smile.

“I’m Ciaran, Mistress Tala. It is a pleasure to meet another of our Magic wielders. I only dabble, and I can only guess at what it takes to be a Mage.”

Tala smiled. “That is kind of you. It sounds like you do much for this city.”

“I do what I can.” He glanced to Terry. “That’s a beautiful bird. Have a name?”

Tala glanced at Terry to see the terror bird returning her look, self-satisfaction practically radiating from him. “This is Terry.”

“Good to meet you, Terry.”

Terry thrummed happily and curled back up.

“Now, I do apologize, Mistress, but I must be on my way. I’ve a project site to get to.”

“Absolutely! Thank you, again, for letting me inquire.”

“Any time.” He bowed and continued down the spiral. His walk was surprisingly normal, the peg not seeming to interfere at all.

As she watched, Tala saw the roadway flexing slightly as Ciaran moved, facilitating the natural pattern of his stride. Control within the tree, indeed.

Tala shook her head, refocusing on the task at hand. To the top.

She fell back into her contemplations, allowing the world to fade around her as she climbed higher and higher.

Finally, after she-knew-not how many tiers, the spiral shunted outward, leaving them to decide to either turn back or go outside, which was no choice at all. Outside it is.

The sky was partly cloudy, highlighted in the late afternoon light as Tala came out onto an upper branch. To her right, the spiral continued, now a wooden walkway affixed to the outside of a central limb.

Buildings hung from limbs near and far, almost like oversized birdhouses. They were linked to each other and the central thoroughfares, by arching bridges.

Even so high up the great tree, with wind almost constantly swirling around them, the swaying was negligible.

She turned and continued higher.

Every so often, signs pointed to divergences from the main way. The signs contained short descriptions of what lay up this ladder or over that bridge.

Many indicated viewing platforms or public walking trails, cultivated for immersion in nature and the occasional breathtaking view.

Tala grinned. This place gives being a forester a whole new meaning.

Still, she didn’t turn, simply continuing up. She wanted to see what was at the top.

The road slowly narrowed until it was just wide enough for two people to pass.

It finally ended, along with some of the other spirals, at a large platform. That platform was built around a single upraised branch.

At some distance, scattered throughout the top of the canopy, Tala saw a couple other, similar platforms, likely the terminal points of some of the other spirals.

One of those other platforms, the one most centrally located, had a single spiral continuing up another hundred feet. As she followed that path with her eyes, she saw that an embedded ladder went higher still to the highest platform that she could see.

Given that she could see the sky and all the up-reaching branches, Tala was fairly confident that it was, in fact, the highest.

Do I go back down and try to find the right spiral?

She shook her head. There was no telling how long that would take. If she knew the city better, she could probably have found her way over easily, but she didn’t, and there wasn’t anyone around to ask, at the moment.

I have magic. Let’s solve this like a Mage.

Grinning, Tala climbed over the railing, holding on with her right hand as she crouched, facing the desired main platform.

Her left middle finger came to her thumb, and she focused on herself. Reduce.

It took her about twenty-three seconds to reduce her effective gravity down to roughly ten percent.

Wind shouldn’t be too much of an issue, as I still have the same inertia, but I should still account for it. The wind was currently blowing left to right, from her perspective.

Aim to the left a bit.

The distance was over a hundred yards.

Aim high. Worst case: I increase my gravity and drop faster.

She felt the muscles in her legs coiling, relaxing, and preparing to explosively contract. Jump powerfully. Spare no strength.

And, if worse comes to worst, get in Kit. She grinned at that. Not a bad worst case.

“Terry, can you wait for me on that platform?” He might throw her off. Reduce variables.

Terry looked around, saw what she was going to do, and flickered over to her destination. His collar began to glow a deep orange of warning. Right… I need to get over there, soon.

She refocused on the jump.

Okay, aim high, jump hard, don’t hesitate, and don’t look down.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she leapt.

The platform and branch behind her had enough mass to not buck away from her powerful push.

Now, even with her enhanced strength, she’d consider a running long-jump a long shot if she reached forty-eight feet.

Basically, under normal gravity, she wouldn’t have made it even a sixth of the way there. And I started from a stand-still.

But her gravity wasn’t normal. The downward pull of the ground below was reduced to just less than a tenth what any other creature could expect.

Tala soared.

She kept her arms tucked in tight and her legs fully extended behind her, willing more thrust from them, despite the fact that that was utterly impossible for her.

After a long moment of flight, she reached the apex of her arc and began to descend, still moving forward with great speed.

Her eyes flicked to her destination, then to look behind her.

Oh…I undershot. Even though she’d tried to aim high, this was not an action that she’d practiced, so she’d estimated incorrectly and made mistakes.

That wasn’t the end of the world.

The near vertical branch around which the platform was built extended from below. The spirals were wrapped around it to provide transit up and down. This is fine. I’ll just land on one of those and climb up a bit.

But she had aimed off to the left, to counter any wind…and the wind had temporarily died.

Don’t panic. You’ll be fine. There’s always… If she went into Kit and fell, Terry would exit the allowed range for his training collar. He would be subject to the city defense.

Oh… That’s bad…

Alright, then. Emergency contingencies were off the table. Grab the support struts, the railing, anything.

The platform passed close overhead, just out of reach, and Tala was approaching the structures beneath quickly. Focus, Tala, focus!

She tried to grab one of the struts, but her fingers barely slapped against it as she shot past. She did hit it well enough to start herself spinning.

Worse!

At the last instant, a massive gust swept over Makinaven, shoving her to the right. She slammed into the spiral ramp, the wood cracking beneath her.

Tala groaned.

The impact hadn’t been hard enough to harm her, given her enhancements, but it had been far from a clean landing. Her head was still spinning as she lay there.

She felt the wood repair itself beneath her, and she was bodily lifted just a bit to allow for that reformation.

A moment later, Terry flickered into being, standing on her chest.

He did not look pleased.

“Yeah… I could have handled that better.”

The avian shook himself in irritation, then moved to her shoulder, latching on and settling down, despite the odd angle.

“Fair enough. Let’s go see if it was worth it.”

Five minutes later, Tala sat on the highest observation platform over the city of Makinaven.

There were no rails around the ten-foot diameter space. It seemed that few people ventured up this high, especially when there were easier to reach places with views that were nearly as good. That was fine with her, she wanted privacy.

The small, artificial platform was easily two thousand feet above the forest floor below, solidly affixed to a singular branch that grew almost straight up from the great tree.

There was an easy path up from the platform, which Tala had failed to jump directly to. After that easy spiral ended in a viewing deck, Tala had found the simple ladder leading the rest of the way. It was composed of wooden dowels affixed and integrated with the branch.

She had climbed it with ease, especially after returning her effective gravity to normal.

The view had been stunning in all directions, even below her. The canopy of Makinaven, below, hid any evidence of civilization, save the series of walkways and platforms she’d already seen.

Even so, Tala’s mind wasn’t on the view, nor on the city below her. After taking in her surroundings, she had focused within herself. Her eyes were now closed, and her mage-sight swept through her body head to toes, fingertips to heart, again and again.

The Archon star, which bound her body and soul, was deeper than the magic of her inscriptions, as was her gate for that matter.

It seemed like magic was a dimension like any other, and as far as she could tell, it was infinite.

That doesn’t mean I can affect that infinity. It did mean, however, that she could bind herself more tightly, body and soul, without having to overwrite her inscriptions.

I really don’t understand this very well.

Her inscriptions were a feature of her body, and her keystone surrounded her gate, her soul. Well, that part of my soul, anyways.

The other part of her soul seemed to already be firmly established within her body but didn’t interact with her inscriptions.

It was like, from a magical perspective, she had an entire un-inscribed body, superimposed upon her physical self.

It wasn’t a physical body, obviously, so even if she could figure out how, she couldn’t add more regenerative scripts, or other enhancements to her natural functions.

No… it’s a spirit body. That tickled something within her mind.

Grediv said what I’d done to my items gave me a head start. She looked down at her elk-leathers. She’d bound them to one another, making them magically and spiritually one with a simple spell-form that vaguely resembled an Archon star, from casual inspection.

The details were different, but that wasn’t currently important.

Tala returned her focus to her implanted Archon star.

It was like the weight at the end of a pendulum, dangling outside of the net of her scripts, while being encapsulated and protected by them at the same time. It didn’t make sense, but that was how it felt.

The tether between her star and her gate, like between her star and her spiritual body, was a two-way thoroughfare of power.

So… I’ve really just bound my divided soul together, with the Archon star acting as an intermediary. My body is still only loosely attached to my spiritual self. A fusing would incorporate all three…right?

Tala thought about her grandmother for the first time in what felt like ages. The woman would crochet in every spare moment, making everything from sweaters to toys. She had passed before Tala’s departure for the Academy. That was about the time that he started…

She shook off the sad memory and sadder thoughts. Tala had no desire to think of him.

No, I’m considering crocheting. One particular birthday, her grandmother had made a net into which Tala had placed three kinds of stuffing, layering them carefully. That done, her grandmother had tightened the stitching, and finished out the pattern, enclosing all three into a unified pillow.

It had been the most comfortable pillow in the house. Tala had even taken it with her to the Academy, where she’d used it every night until it fell apart. After nearly a decade and a half of heavy use. She hadn’t thought about that pillow in at least a couple of years.

Again, though, that wasn’t the point.

I know I can knot power into spell-forms that affect the spirit. I should be able to chain them together, crocheting a magical pillow, filled with my physical body and the two halves of my soul.

She reached inside and tried to create the spell-form within herself, beside the Archon star and using its tether as the yarn.

Her power resisted her, but she fought on. After what had to have been at least an hour, she gave up, falling back onto her back, staring up at the darkening sky.

That didn’t work. It was more than her failing. The magic had fought her, and she felt like something was wrong with her approach.

She sat up, pulling out her tools to prepare some tea. I need to focus. She chose the chamomile. With careful fingers, she broke off the amount she needed and placed it within the cast-iron teapot. With an application of power, she heated the pot with her hot air incorporator, toasting the dry tea within.

That completed, she added hot water from the requisite incorporator. Once it was done brewing, she poured herself a cup, and turned her mind back to the matter at hand.

Okay. I’m not making a pillow.

Still, the crocheting mental image appealed on some deep level. Maybe I’m adding a second layer to another blanket?

She finished the first cup of tea, poured a second, and focused inward again, renewed determination filling her.

She made some progress, this time. She was able to pull up portions of her spiritual self, and thread the Archon star’s anchoring tether together with it. She could even move on and work her way across her spirit, moving outward in a circle from where the Archon star rested in her chest.

But near midnight, when she simply had to take a break, she released her grip on her power, and it began to unravel.

Tala panicked, trying to snatch the threads and keep her efforts from being undone, but to no avail.

In less than a minute, it was as if she’d never done anything.

Tala growled, causing Terry to lift his head from where he’d been sleeping, near the edge of their current platform. Finding no threat, he went back to sleep.

In irritation, Tala refreshed the water in her teapot, the first batch having discorporated hours earlier.

A new cup in hand, she contemplated through her frustration.

Well, that can’t be right. If it had to be done in one go, there’d never be anyone between red and orange. The same would be true if it would be undone with a moment’s inattention.

She leaned back, bracing herself with one arm as she drank and glared up at the stars, overhead.

I should get a blanket from Kit. She didn’t want to move. She felt utterly spent, and in her dejection, she didn’t want to put forth the effort. Anyways, it’s too cold for just one blanket. The tea helps, but I’d need at least two.

Two. Tala blinked up at the night sky.

Two blankets. My body and my spiritual self, each identical in dimension, but not really connected. Her eyes widened. “Two blankets! I need to crochet the two blankets together!” Like a sandwich held together with some sticky filling. That wasn’t a great analogy, but she wasn’t interested in making a better one.

Tala sat up straighter, her exhaustion forgotten, but no less present.

She fought through the tiredness, taking a deep drink of tea before tucking those items away and stuffing her mouth with jerky. I need the energy.

Reaching deep within, Tala was able to perceive the space between her physical and spiritual bodies, and when conceived of in the right way, she could perceive her Archon star resting between them, beside her gate. The star was a bridge of power between the three other parts of her.

Slowly, carefully, Tala grabbed the threads of power and interlinked the three points of connection with another loop of power. Using the Archon star as hook and needle in one, Tala wove the spirit binding spell-form, the same one she’d used on her elk-leathers and cinched it tight.

A wash of golden power rippled through her, and the point of connection seemed to solidify, locking in place.

As Tala pulled back, her mage-sight told her that her aura had taken an all-but-imperceptible tick towards orange.

Her final glimpse, within herself, was altered by her new understanding and perspective.

Within her, there were two blankets, each the size of a city. At the center, lay an infinite ball of yarn and a tool for using the last to unify the first two.

Most important though, was the last feature: there, at the center of it all, a single stitch joined the two great expanses, fusing them at a single point.

I have a long way to go.

A joyful smile on her face, she opened her eyes into bright, new light, and the dawning of a new day.