Fallen Mage Regressor

”So, genuinely, with all due respect, what the hell was that?”

There was no verbal response. Instead, the click of porcelain against wood. The smell of the tea helped to purge some of the pain in Mal’s head from the earlier migraine.

Cassandra shrugged. ”Witchcraft is all about the rhythm of the earth.”

”What?”

Where exactly was this going?

”All of these rituals are designed to bring us closer to nature. To see ourselves not as outside of it, but as part of it.”

She swirled her tea in her cup and took a sip.

”In some cases—” She lowered the cup back down. ”—the earth responds back. Typically, it’s a very mild effect. But for you, you’re seen as something of a wayward child. A direct descendant of the Mother Goddess. Well, more of a stepson.”

”Mother Goddess? You didn’t tell me that I was signing up for a religious change.”

She shrugged. ”Witchcraft is partially a religious practice. You can believe in Eternus too, or the Archons. Worship whoever the hell you want. You can choose to think of the mother as nothing more than a force, or you can choose to think of her as a personal goddess. It doesn’t particularly matter.”

”You keep on talking about this Mother Goddess, but you were praying to mana or something.”

”They’re the same. Don’t think too hard on it.”

Mal would be thinking hard about this.

”So basically, I contacted an Archon, a lesser goddess, and it... what? Just said hello back?”

”Not an Archon, but it’s not important.” A dismissive snort. ”You’re not the only one this has ever happened to. My mother, during one ritual, had a similar experience. If you want to, you can just brush it off as nothing more than the chemicals in your brain going haywire.”

But it hadn’t been that. Mal knew what an illusion or a hallucination looked like. He knew what it looked like when his brain was starting to break down, unable to tell the difference between reality and falsehood. There was nothing false about what he’d gone through. It wasn’t a trick. If anything, it was simply taking the real and making it more real—though even he had to admit that the description didn’t make much sense.

”You’ll have to do that three more times,” she said. ”During the summer solstice, the autumnal equinox, and the winter solstice. But for tonight, there’s no point in pursuing anything further.”

”Does this actually do anything?”

”Yes.”

”What does it do?”

”It won’t give you the power to fly or blow up mountains in your mind, if that’s what you want,” she said. ”That kind of power belongs to wizardry, not witchcraft.”

”You still haven’t explained what the rituals are for.”

She sighed. ”I really need to point it out to you?”

Mal stared at her.

”Fine.” Her expression straightened out. ”Witchcraft is about connection, yes? Understanding one’s place in nature, and learning to cooperate with the world around you. This is what makes you so terrifying. Your lack of a core makes you receptive to the ebb and flow of the world.”

”So?”

”So doing this rituals further attunes you. It sharpens what’s already there to a fine point. You’d be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunities.”

Increased sensitivity?

Mal looked at his hand, then at the table behind it. Even in here, a few flecks of colored mana bobbed in the air like bits of detritus floating on a lake.

They were brighter.

It was undeniable, even to Mal’s cynical mind and perception. They were a little big brighter.

”And the effects are permanent?” Mal asked.

”Of course. Though you also get a temporary boost that lasts about a day or so.”

Well, Mal could admit it would probably be beneficial in the long run to keep up the stupid rituals.

”You’ll be able to put it to use on that bracelet of yours,” she said.

Mal sat up in his chair. On its own, the bracelet on his wrist flexed, thorns exposing and facing outward.

”How would that work?” he said. ”Would I have to remake it from scratch?

”Absolutely not. You have a bond with that item now. It would be wrong to throw it away. Besides, there’s a much better approach.”

What?

Mal decided not to ask what the woman was talking about. He was more interested in this so called better approach.

”What’s this better approach?”

”It’s quite simple. Using your enhanced vision and connection to nature, you’re going to harvest some new materials of better quality then the ones used to initially craft your bracelet. After that, make an infusion and let the bracelet soak in the essence of the infusion.”

Mal waited for her to continue, but no such thing happened.

Huh. Way simpler than he was expecting.

”That’s it?”

”What, were you expecting me to make you find an ancient flower on top of a hill, or summon a dragon?”

”No, I was expecting to have to bury an egg and whisper sweet nothings into the air again.”

Mal received a slap upside the head for that one.

Mal laid out more of the papers that he’d stolen from Theologue Cornelias on his desk. On the edge of the table, there was a bowl on his study desk, filled with an infusion of elderroot and Bramblevine. The color was a deep, rich brown, like freshly brewed tea, leaves picked straight off the vine.

He’d made slow but steady progress on the papers, cracking the code one at a time. He was right on the verge of a breakthrough, to where he’d be able to understand what exactly the backbone of Cornelias’s little barrier spell was.

Mal turned his attention away from the papers and back at the bowl.

The mana inside of the infusion was slowly melting into the bracelet. It was almost mesmerizing, the way the brown and green flecks brightened and then dimmed into nothingness.

For some reason, his mind paused on that word.

Nothingness.

He turned his head back to the paper and read through it slowly.

Could it be?

Was the answer so obvious?

He pulled out a new sheet of parchment and wrote out a set of equations, graphite filled the page from top to bottom, a maze of symbols and numbers.

Nullomancy, but instead of creating a void from whence energy is destroyed, it would create a vacuum that no force could cross.

Weaker, inferior to his own method.

And exactly what Cornelias’s barrier seemed to do.

He finished writing out the handful of sentences, then leaned back in his chair.

Inverted Nullomancy. A reverse void. The same fundamental principle, a complete lack of anything, but creating an opposite effect.

But why choose that, though?

Why not use the real deal?

Mal thought it over in his head for a little bit longer before he let out a sigh.

Of course. The one advantage that this reverse Nullomancy had, was that it was impervious to being overloaded. ”True” Nullomancy couldn’t be overloaded, but nobody had ever achieved True Nullomancy. There was always a subtle flaw in the construction of the spell that was unavoidable. Mal had managed to reduce it to near nothingness, but huge attacks like the one that Rolam had used in the future past were able to overwhelm the spell.

This reverse void risked no such overload.

The ultimate defense. At least, in theory. Mal knew better than anybody else that there was no such thing as an impervious defense. But try as he could, he couldn’t think of any possible way to break past the barrier.

All that effort, all that decryption, and it was for nothing.

It wasn’t even something that Mal would be able to apply to himself, or even give to his allies. He couldn’t, in good conscience, allow Rolam and Philo to learn this spell. If they made an error, they would end up seriously injured. They weren’t ready to learn this particular technique.

Mal himself wouldn’t be able to use it either. In the first place, on principle, he was still attached to his own peculiar brand of Nullomancy. In the second place, his core was so laughably weak (read: non-existent) that there was no possible way that he would be able to cast such a complex spell.

Mal put away the papers. He’d just finished when a slow sizzle caught his ear just at the edge of his attention. He turned to face the sound. The infusion was bubbling and the bracelet was glowing a mild green.

That’s probably a good sign, Mal thought.

A few seconds later, there was a small pop and the sizzling stopped.

Then the bowl exploded, and wooden shards flew in every direction.

The liquid instantly evaporated and the bracelet fell onto the wooden table. The wood caught fire and a flame erupted out like some sort of twisted monument to Mal’s ineptitude.

Mal ran over to the side of the desk and picked up a bucket of water. He’d been using it for his makeshift garden, and now he was thanking himself for the fact that he had decided to have so many plants indoor. He threw the entire bucketload of water onto the fire and it was doused with a hiss.

He waited until he was absolutely sure that there wouldn’t be another random explosion, then stepped over to the bracelet and picked it up.

He could smell freshly cut grass in every direction. But it was most concentrated, and most obviously coming from the bracelet.

Even now, there was a tender green glow enveloping it. He blinked a few times and the glow flickered, halfway between reality and his own perception.

He slipped the bracelet on and stepped outside.

It was time to see just how much of a difference this simple upgrade would make.