Millennial Mage

Tala woke bright and early to an overwhelming feeling of hunger, accompanied by a sense burgeoning on panic. Well, that’s not quite right, but it was as close as her mage-sight could get to conveying the reality of the situation. In any case, both sensations were coming from her side.

She sat up, hoisting up the shield, which had been resting over her, to a steep angle and locking it there. That done, she turned to find Kit.

The belt pouch’s magic was dim, and it was radiating a feeling akin to desperation. I’m anthropomorphizing. Even so, it was clear the pouch was low on power.

Still groggy, Tala stuck her right hand into the pouch, and felt the palm-shaped panel within. Kit helping, again.

She pulled together power that was flowing through her gate, ensured her gate was wide open, and began to feed the magic into the pouch.

Instantly, there was a feeling of relief and…attachment? The image the sense called to mind was a baby nursing from its mother. The concept made Tala feel more than a little uncomfortable.

Not sure what to do with that… She continued to feed Kit, until she sensed a feeling of fullness, and the magic was moving out of her more slowly, indicating that that pouch was coming to a state of equilibrium.

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked down at the pouch. I guess I’m not fully awake.

Kit refilled, Tala decided to quickly check her other items.

True to Artia’s word, the comb didn’t need any magic and seemed to be quite stable. Since the comb was already in hand, she undid her hair from the night, quickly ran the comb through it, and re-braided it for the day. This really is a remarkable item. It was incredibly practical in its simplicity.

Her travel clothes, while not dry of magic, were not as full as they had been the day before. That intrigued her, because she couldn’t think of anything that would have used the missing power, unlike Kit, which was using power constantly to maintain dimensional space for her things.

As she examined the traveling clothes, she noticed that they were perfectly clean. Is that it, then? Self-cleaning? No, that wasn’t the right paradigm. They were maintaining their original state, and any dirt that wasn’t imbedded or attached somehow would obviously fall off, while any that was imbedded or otherwise attached, would be pushed out and dislodged. The cleaning was a side effect, not a core function. Fascinating.

She checked her knife and found it full. She also realized that it was full to the maximum level that she’d pushed it to, at the most extreme. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes of sleep and she fully focused on her weapon. It was sitting beside where she’d been laying, not in her hand.

I can check its levels and capacity without touching it. Well, she supposed that her soul was always touching it, so that wasn’t quite accurate. Still neat. She smiled a bit to herself. Not sure what it means, though…

That chore done, she stood and began to roll up her bedding. As she did so, there was a muted thump from near where she’d left Kit.

Tala glanced that way, and saw a dark-handled hammer laying, propped against the belt pouch.

Oh! I completely forgot about the hammer. She finished folding and rolling-up her travel bed and stuck it into Kit, before picking up the hammer.

The metal of the handle was cool in her hand, and it seemed to fit comfortably within her grasp. I need to experiment with you, soon. She was looking into the hammer with her mage-sight and saw that it was very low on power, like Kit had been, though not to the same extent.

Apparently, its functions are more complicated than simply staying functional and intact, like an artifact knife. She hesitated. If I give it power, I’m bonding it to my magic, and I can’t sell it… She sighed. And if I don’t give it power, most likely it will be a mundane hammer before we reach Bandfast.

She gathered her power-flow once more and fed the hammer.

Because her mage-sight was focused on the tool, she was able to see the ripple of magic wash over its surface before a strange echo seemed to sound from within it, sending a flick of power back to her. Bonded. So, that’s what it looks like. She smiled, again.

She topped off the hammer, then stood, tucking it back into Kit. “Thanks, Kit. I’d forgotten the hammer. I didn’t intend to let it starve.”

The pouch did not respond.

Tala unhooked the shield and climbed down the ladder with it held in one arm. It was harder to stay balanced with such a burden, but she still did her best to follow the dictates that Guardsman Adam had set for her. As the oxen were sleeping inside this smaller portion of the caravan formation, Den had oriented the ladder towards the outside. There was a bit of a different sense to climbing down on the outside of the caravan, and it left her feeling strangely exposed.

Almost as a ward against that sense of exposure, she reached in and grabbed a bit of jerky, flicking it out, away from the wagon and into the early light.

It arched for quite a ways before it disappeared in a flicker of dimensional power. Weren’t watching closely. Eh, Terry?

“Morning, Terry.” She spoke softly, and she knew it was unlikely that the bird heard her, but it still seemed polite.

The sky was just lightening towards dawn, and she was finally wide awake. So, she decided she might as well start her day.

She charged the twenty cargo-slots, taking less than ten minutes to complete the task, even walking between the two wagons.

She stretched her body, then exercised her magic, muscles, and soul.

Feeling both deeply worked and invigorated, she took a good look around, verifying that no one was near, and that Den was still asleep. She was getting practiced enough with her mage-sight that she could tell if someone was sleeping heavily or lightly when she focused on them, and Den was sleeping deeply. The flow of innate power was more subdued in those who weren’t conscious. Good.

She stripped out of the clothes she’d worn for the night and for her exercises.

Naked in the cool morning air, she undid her braid once more, pulled out the water incorporator, and quickly ran it over herself. She used a minor torrent of power to create a mild flow of water. She rinsed off the sweat gathered through the night and her morning exertions.

The water was cold, but she didn’t really mind. Her muscles were warm, and the cool water felt good along with the slight mountain breeze. Amazing acquisition. Well done, Tala. She felt immediately a bit guilty. Thank you, Adrill and Artia. They had given her the device, after all. She should find a way to thank them, when next she was in Alefast. Hopefully, the ending-berries will be useful to them.

That complete, she ran the comb back through her hair, dried herself, and found a pleasant surprise. A secondary effect of the comb’s magical untangling was that it stripped all the water from around her hair, thus almost completely drying it with a single stroke. That is dead useful.

Mostly dry and thoroughly enjoying the feel of the wind on her skin, she tamed her hair once more, then begrudgingly pulled on her travel leathers. Modesty, Tala. You are naked too often as it is…

She shifted and stretched to settle into the garments, then sighed, content. Ok. Time for breakfast! That thought keyed off a memory, and she realized that she likely shouldn’t have gotten clean, yet. Rust. I forgot. I’m supposed to spar with Adam this morning.

* * *

She found Adam stretching inside the larger caravan ring. It was still too early for most of the passengers to be up and about, and most of the people who would likely bear witness were the guards, still on duty, and the servants or drivers who were early risers.

“Good morning, Mistress Tala. I trust you slept well?”

She smiled, setting her borrowed shield off to one side. “Good morning, Adam. I did, thank you.” She gestured towards the shield. “And thank you, again, for letting me borrow that each night.”

He nodded. “Happy to oblige. It is certainly better than you sleeping exposed, under the stars.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“As well as I ever do.” He smiled brightly.

“Glad to hear that?”

He laughed. “I did sleep well, yes.”

“Good.” She looked around, and didn’t see any practice weapons, or padding, or anything else that had been standard for the academy combat arenas. “So… how are we going to do this?”

“Are you prepped to take damage?”

Right! She pulled out her iron flask and drank her daily cup of ending-berry juice, topping off her reserves of that power within herself. “Yup.”

He gave her an odd look but didn’t comment. “So, then you attack me.”

“I just…attack you.”

He nodded.

“No advice, no training, no tactics, just me attacking you.”

“That’s right.” He held up his hand. “No magic, no weapons though. I need to see what we’re working with. I’ll give advice, suggestions, tactics, and training after each engagement, assuming we need multiple. Please tell me if we are taxing your defenses, as I’d hate to actually damage you.”

She snorted a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He gave a half-smile. “See that you do.”

She lunged at him, not really expecting to catch him off guard. She didn’t.

She had her arms wide, going for a tackle.

He punched her in the nose. Hard.

There wasn’t pain, precisely, just a fractional drop in her reserves of ending-berry power and a sure knowledge that her nose should be broken.

The blow rocked her head backward, even as her body continued forward. The new opposing movement caused her feet to come out from under her, flipping her up, off of the ground, arms flaying wildly.

She struck the earth flat on her back, and the wind was driven from her.

“Ow…” It didn’t actually hurt, but it really, really felt like it should have, and there was another accompanying downward tick in her reserves. Her vision was a bit fuzzy, though. From the hit to the nose? Or my head smacking the ground? She didn’t know; she hadn’t been focusing on her vision, between the two impacts.

Adam stepped forward to stand over her, holding out his hand.

She accepted with a sigh, and he pulled her to her feet. “Ok. This time, keep your guard up.” He showed her how, placing his fists in front of his face, with his elbows tucked tightly against his own ribs.

She mimicked the stance. It felt a bit awkward. She had never actually physically attacked someone. Roughhousing with the littles doesn’t count. She shoved that thought aside; she was not going to think about her siblings.

“Ready?” He smiled encouragingly.

She nodded, clearing her mind. “Ready.”

He hit her in the side of the head, staggering her towards her right. Then, as she stumbled that direction, he kicked her in that hip, driving her backwards and stealing what little balance she’d managed to retain. She dropped back to the ground.

This time she landed hard on her backside, before her momentum carried her backward onto her back. She did manage to tuck her head, so it was just her back that struck the earth.

She stared up at the sky once more. He is fast. I’m barely seeing him move… It wasn’t inscriptions, she was pretty sure that she’d have noticed anything like that. He was just very well practiced and trained. She could focus on him and allow her mage-sight to give her greater perception and insight, but she felt like that might be cheating. He said no magic…

He helped her to her feet, again. “So, do you know how to block?”

She glanced at the ground, then back up at him. “Evidence suggests: No.” Never really had to.

He laughed, and she found herself smiling along with him. “Fair enough. Let’s begin at the very beginning, then.”

He began helping her move through basic attacks and defenses, showing her how to position herself, and explaining what parts of herself to engage at which point during the movement. It was a lot of information. Near the end of their short half-hour, she realized that if she focused on Adam with her mage-sight, while he was demonstrating a technique or movement, she could easily see exactly how he was accomplishing it, what muscles were being engaged, and even how his bones were moving.

It wasn’t like looking at a biology reference guide. She couldn’t see the muscles or other parts like a cadaver open on the table before her. It was more that she could see the way energy and power moved through the guardsman, and it gave hints and insights into how he was doing what he was doing.

It helped a little.

Finally, Adam gave her a small bow. “I need to eat and take my post, my shift starts soon.”

She nodded in return. “Thank you. Could we do another session after your shift?”

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “I can do another half-hour or so, then I have some other tasks.”

“That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Guardsman Adam.”

He smiled. “I am happy to assist, Mistress Tala. I will see you this afternoon.”

He moved towards the chuckwagon, which had just opened its side wall in preparation for breakfast. The man wasn’t even breathing hard, let alone sweating.

Tala had considered herself in good shape, and truthfully, she was, but the new movements and large number of repetitions left her feeling deeply sore. Fine, a massage in Bandfast is a 100%, definite must.

She stepped between a pair of wagons, getting outside the formation as she moved back around towards Den’s wagon. As she moved, she tried to stretch her worked muscles, hoping to find enough privacy for another quick rinse before seeking out her own breakfast.

It was not to be. Improvise, then. She took her water incorporator and soaked her hair once again, letting it hang free. She wasn’t out of everyone’s view, but there were few enough people around, moving about their tasks, that she didn’t feel too ‘on display.’

She then dumped water from the magical device through each of the seven openings in her shirt and pants, sweeping the stream around herself the best she could. It was clumsy at best.

That done, she used the comb to de-tangle and dry her hair, then took a moment to focus. She strove to find the mental state that she’d had yesterday, when enjoying the cool mountain breeze, and she willed herself to be dry.

Now, she could not actually make herself dry any more than she could make herself cool, but the immortal elk leather of her clothing responded to her will, becoming incredibly permeable to the nigh omni-present wind.

Tala held her arms out wide, and the sun, combined with the wind, quickly evaporated the water that had clung to her.

The process was incredibly sped up because of two factors. One, her hair was already dry. Two, the leather of her outfit, in keeping to its steady state, did not absorb any water, or allow any water to cling to it.

Thus, it was as if she were only drying her skin.

In five minutes, she was sufficiently waterless to seek breakfast. That was not very efficient… I need to find a better means of cleaning up, privately.

Her clothing shifted back to its standard fit, and she was acutely aware of the few places that had not dried quite as well. She sighed. Half-formed ideas get half-formed results.

She did her best to ignore the mild irritants, knowing they would dry in time; the magical clothing practically guaranteed it.

Speaking of magical clothing. She directed power from her gate into her outfit as she walked, topping off both the tunic and pants.

She was not the last to get her breakfast, but she was close.

“Good morning, Mistress Tala.”

“Good morning, Brand.”

“Did I see you fighting with Guardsman Adam?”

A few nearby people turned their way, clearly interested in what they thought they’d heard. “No, Brand. We weren’t fighting.” She leaned closer, speaking much more softly. “He’s just showing me how to fight, without magic.”

“Ahh, I see, my mistake.” He spoke at a normal volume, and their audience mostly turned their attention away, disappointed. “Sorry about that. I didn’t actually think about how it would sound.” He grinned widely, speaking as quietly as she had.

“It’s fine. That looks fantastic.”

He gave her a searching look. “You seemed to have an odd love of food, for a Mage.”

“And you have an odd love of stabbing people, for a cook.”

He stiffened, responding in a stiff whisper. “It was one time, and I was panicking. It was clearly an idiotic thing, even if I’d succeeded.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Even if I’d gotten away with it, it would have been horribly foolish.”

Tala groaned, rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry, Brand. That was silly of me to bring up. I know you didn’t really mean anything. You were just teasing.”

He snorted at that, the tension shattering. “I am glad it failed, to stab you I mean.”

You did succeed in that… But she knew what he meant.

He smiled, changing the subject quite obviously. “So? Why are you so food focused?”

“Why can’t a Mage enjoy the taste of good food?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Because if any of you put on weight, you could kill us all? Or am I misunderstanding.”

She laughed. “It’s not quite that bad or dangerous. Besides, I use a lot of energy with my particular inscriptions.”

“Really? I’d thought that most of it came from your gate.” He frowned, contemplating.

She shrugged. “For many Mages, it does. And truthfully, most comes from mine as well, but my spell-lines are much more…” She hesitated, trying to think of the right word. “Natural? Yeah, my spell-work integrates with my natural state much more than most Mages’.”

“I see; so that uses energy from the food you eat, then?”

“Usually.” She smiled. “No need to risk it, right? I’m not a Material Creator, after all.”

He laughed and gave her another helping of bacon beside her sausage, creamed grains, and pieces of fruit. “Too true, Mistress. Enjoy!”

She paused, giving him an expectant look.

Brand, for his part, pretended not to notice her, and began bustling around the chuckwagon.

Tala rolled her eyes and cleared her throat.

“Oh! You’re still here?” His mirthful smile highlighted his words as false.

“Come on, Brand. The fate of the caravan is in your hands.”

He snorted a chuckle and pulled out an earthenware jug, stoppered for easy transport. “One ludicrous amount of coffee, ready and waiting.”

She grinned, catching up the jug. “Thank you, Brand.”

“Any time. Now, shoo! I’ve work to be about.”

She waved awkwardly around her load of food and set off back to her wagon. She really wasn’t interested in repeating the political awkwardness of the day before.

She was about to squeeze between two wagons, to get outside the larger circle, when she realized she was being foolish. She maneuvered just a bit and went to stick the jug of coffee into Kit.

To her surprise, Kit was already open just the right amount to receive the jug. “Well…fancy that.” It made sense. She knew that Kit could manipulate dimensionality around itself as a defensive mechanism, and that wasn’t even considering how it could maneuver the items and space within itself. Why shouldn’t it be able to open on its own? Well, not entirely on its own. It was acting at her will. She’d wanted to put the jug away, and it had responded.

But what of the hammer… She frowned.

Now, with only her breakfast tray in hand, she continued moving out of the encircling wagons. Kit maneuvered the hammer and disgorged it all on its own… She had been thinking of charging all her magic items. Was that enough for the pouch to work with? Just like I wanted my items organized, but Kit seemed to arrange itself towards the best effect.

It was something further to research. Thankfully, it was quite well in line with many other topics she wanted more information on, so it wasn’t really an added task. Thank heavens for that.

She cleared the wagons and began walking around the formation, seeking her cargo wagon and a comfortable place to sit and eat as the caravan got underway.

The sun was bright, now that it peaked over the horizon, and she pulled out her wide-brimmed hat, placing it atop her head at an extreme angle to give her some respite from the early-morning glare.

All she wanted was a quiet breakfast, by herself, to sit and think, and decide how to spend the day. Alone at last.

“Mistress Tala!” A familiar voice called to her.

Or not.