Millennial Mage

Tala turned her attention to the other things within the folded space as Mistress Kep flared with power and slowly rose into the air.

Tala wasn’t quite able to tell what magics the Paragon was using to lift herself, but she didn’t think it was direct air manipulation.

Probably not that important.

Opposite the cliff, in the roughly fifty-foot square of reality, was a weathered stone building, the interior of which was accessed by an open archway.

The ground looked very much like the ground outside the folded space with knee-high grass, interspersed with low bushes and the occasional small tree. Apparently, the soil wasn’t that good for trees.

There were some insects, but no trace of animals, even though Tala had seen evidence of quite a few little critters—from mice and rabbits to small songbirds and grass-dwellers—in the valley outside.

I suppose if any were caught within the bounds of this space, they’d have long since left, unable to return. Their descendants are likely outside, none the wiser.

Master Limmestare and Mistress Vanga were moving toward the small building, just behind Mistress Cerna.

Masters Clevnis and Girt had cleared a ten-foot circle, cutting the grass down to about ankle height, and were stretching and moving through a series of magical manipulations that Tala had learned they used to limber up their gate, will, and mind.

That had been a relatively new concept to her, though it made sense. How many times had she felt her thinking was a bit off, or her will a bit sluggish? A series of ‘truing up’ movements with her magic might have just been the thing she needed for those occasions.

Toward that end, she’d been joining them to learn, but this time, she was more curious about what was in the little building.

The structure was well constructed of dry-fitted stone. There was no magic woven though the building, but there was magic within, which surprised Tala. The surprise vanished almost instantly as Mistress Cerna made clear the reasoning.

The Refined unit leader sighed. “We have a harnessed fount.”

That got everyone’s attention.

The Paragon called down, “Let me know if you learn anything specific. Otherwise, I’ll continue, here.”

Mistress Cerna waved and spoke back, trusting the other woman to hear, “Will do.”

The other two Refined stopped their practice and moved to follow Tala into the building.

There—floating in the middle of the space—was a fount processed in the arcane manner.

It was an orb, fully embedded with ingrained purification scripts, but ‘set’ in the way of artifacts, rather than simply inscribed as most arcane-used founts were. The working rendered the power easily accessible without tainting that which it powered.

The harnessed fount only seemed to be powering three things.

The first was a pedestal in the middle of the room with the obvious outline of a hand atop it. It was seemingly carved from a single piece of white marble, shot through with veins of obsidian. The hand outline was of the same black, volcanic glass, indicating that on the whole, the material wasn’t naturally this composition.

The second item powered by the fount was a stylus, resting just above a plaque. The stylus was a red stone, bound and embellished with gold. The plaque was also gold, and the odd lettering on it was a deep, almost crimson red.

The final item was a shield that leaned against one wall, below another plaque. This plaque was a matte grey metal, the lettering a white so bright that it almost seemed to glow. Similarly, the shield was a matte grey, stylized and enhanced with a bright white.

Unfortunately, both plaques were illegible to Tala.

Another language.

-That’s… so odd. Why would you want to speak—or I suppose in this case read—something else? I mean, if there were just two languages, there’d be large swaths of people you couldn’t talk to. Think of all the books that you’d never be able to understand! This is madness, Tala.-

A person could learn to converse and read more than one language, like Mistress Kep.

-That’s silly. Everyone should just speak and read one language.-

Well, we do. It seems right to us, because it is what we know. But honestly? We probably don’t understand the true measure of things, because this is all we’ve ever known.

-…Fine. You’re probably right. Since when are you the voice of reason?-

Well, since you are me as well… always?

-I can accept that.-

Aside from the obviously magical stuff, there were a few small strongboxes, which were easily opened, revealing gold, silver, and copper.

“So, lion’s share goes to Alefast to cover expenses of the waning,” Tala nodded to herself, speaking out loud, “but we get a finders’ fee. Correct?”

Mistress Cerna was busy itemizing what they’d found, so Master Clevnis turned toward Tala. “That’s right. Generally, if any of us have a specific use for a magical item, here, that would be that person’s portion. Finding magical items isn’t rare, but it doesn’t happen every time. This is a bit odd, though. Such items are usually in some sort of stasis to preserve them, rather than being actively powered. But that is off track. Honestly, the percentage is just a bit extra on top of the bounty for the new-cell-investigation and the extra pay for being out of the city for a few days.”

That made sense to Tala, so she didn’t really have any follow-up questions.

Aside from the items and strongboxes that she’d already seen, there wasn’t really much to look at, since no one was willing to start playing with unknown, ancient magical items without at least knowing a bit about them.

True to promise, it was actually pretty boring.

Thus, the unit mainly putzed about, entertaining themselves however they saw fit.

Masters Clevnis and Girt returned to their cleared circle in the grass.

Mistress Vanga pulled out an Archive slate and began reviewing what Tala would bet were patient anatomy informational summaries.

Mistress Cerna counted and recounted the precious metals in the boxes, then sat down to knit a woolen scarf… in midair… without knitting needles.

Tala ended up joining the Masters in their will-stretching as they all waited for Mistress Kep to finish reading the cliff.

Oddly enough, it ended with the Paragon hanging from the top, muttering loudly to herself incomprehensibly.

It’s in another language… that’s incomprehensible to me.

-Right… got to remember that’s a thing.-

Finally, the woman came back down, shaking her head. “This is infuriating.”

The unit gathered near her. They didn’t strictly need to, as they could all hear each other from anywhere within the space, even if they simply whispered, but it was more polite to come close and be attentive.

“I’ll take a look at what we have inside, and then we can go over everything, together.”

That made sense, so they all followed her inside.

It only took a moment for the Paragon to read the plaques. “The shield contains natural arcane spell-forms around the concept of protection, defense, and shelter. In theory, anyone using it should be protected from even conceptual attacks while behind that, so long as they supply it with sufficient power.”

Tala frowned. “So, if I hold it up and power it, then someone insults me, I won’t get my feelings hurt?”

The Paragon paused, then shrugged. “I mean, maybe? You have more experience with arcane magic than I do, honestly. Though, your experience is with the modern type, and like all things, it has changed through time.”

Except language.

-Well, it would have changed, but it’s being magically prevented.-

That’s true, I suppose.

Mistress Vanga tentatively cleared her throat. “I actually haven’t bound a defensive item.”

The others gave her looks that lacked surprise and that were filled with ‘we’ve been telling you to correct that lack.’

“I’ll get it thoroughly checked out, first, but I think this could be wonderful for me.”

Master Clevnis nodded. “I agree. You’ve been through four wanings, and you have never managed to find something you liked. If that shield appeals to you, I’m all for you getting this one. Any objections?”

Tala almost objected, but in the end, she didn’t really need it, and she had enough on her plate as it was. She could have fed it to Kit, and if the sanctum had replicated the magics it might have been useful, but she just wasn’t sure what the results would have been.

In the end, it wasn’t worth it, and she knew that Mistress Vanga would share what was learned from the item, so Tala still might be able to find some way of getting something out of the shield.

Mistress Kep continued, “The stylus will magically write whatever you wish, on any surface you desire. To the extent of drawing out a color picture that you are imagining. It writes by changing the properties of the surface it acts upon, so it’s not a matter of ink or paints or the like.”

Tala perked up at that. That’s pretty neat.

-What would we even use it for?-

You could write things out?

-The Librarians have things that will let me do that if I really have a need.-

Master Limmestare came and took a closer look at it. “I do prefer physical books… but no, I think the Library would have better use for it than I.”

-See?-

Fine…

No one else stepped forward to claim it.

Mistress Cerna nodded once, “So that will go to the city, then.”

The Paragon smiled. “And this last thing, the pillar, if I understand correctly, contains a display artifact and information repository, or possibly just an informational accessing function, and the repository is in the Archive.”

She placed her hand on the indicated location, and a pulse of magic washed through the room.

Suddenly, a human was standing before them, as lifelike as any of the Refined, but with magic woven through them with incredible intricacy.

Tala could even see air moving away from them as they displaced it by coming into existence.

Solid projections? That seems so unnecessary…

The person began speaking… another language.

The monologue went on for nearly five minutes before the man bowed and vanished with a small pop, the air rushing back in to fill the void he left behind.

He was instantly replaced by a hue-folk woman who again pushed the air out and away. She stood tall, with light purple skin and black eyes.

Everyone focused fully on the fabricated person at that point.

She began to speak as well. This still wasn’t words that Tala recognized, but it also wasn’t the same manner of speech that the man had used.

Mistress Kep was frowning deeply.

Four more illusions cycled through, each of a different race, each seemingly speaking a different language, each heralded by a slight breeze and seen off with a little pop.

The Paragon spoke slowly, as if clarifying to herself, “They’re all the same message, as near as I can tell. I only know a smattering of some of the languages, but the cadence and body language matches up. From what I can see accessible by this pedestal, there are more than a hundred additional messages as well.”

Tala’s eyes widened. “More than a hundred different languages?”

The Paragon shrugged. “There were thousands, apparently. I’ll get these uploaded to the Archive, and this will actually be a great key toward assisting in the deciphering of some of these other languages. Did you see that the words were written out near the floor?”

Tala hadn’t, but she had been standing back a bit.

Mistress Kep shook her head slowly. “This is an incredible find.”

Tala frowned. “Then… why don’t you sound happy?”

The woman grimaced. “Because they went to a lot of trouble to leave this warning. That generally isn’t done. There are no depictions of the prisoner, nor any mention of his name. Basically, all that I can determine about the prisoner himself is that he is a ‘he,’ by the warnings. The languages that have differing indicators for age, status, or other features have stripped those away, using vagaries and generalities instead.”

“So?” Master Clevnis interjected to prod, “What are we dealing with?”

Mistress Kep sighed. “I’ll want to verify, then double and triple check before we make our attempt, but I can give you my best guess. This is a mind-worm propagator. Specifically, he uses stories to worm his way into your thoughts. By the very act of telling the stories, he is naturally associating himself with the stories he tells you, which gives him greater power. If I understand correctly, when he dies, if he was killed, he subsumes the body of the one most conceptually linked to him and his stories.”

Tala frowned. So, we could just kill him, now? We know nothing about him…

Her eyes widened.

“Oh, that’s…” She shook her head as everyone looked her way. “He’s a prisoner. He’s marked as a threat, and thus, one of us killing him would be a significant boon to humanity.”

Master Limmestare was nodding in understanding. “That very act would link the killer to him, conceptually.”

Master Clevnis finished, a grimace wrinkling his nose, “Giving him an instant path to using someone else’s body to reforge himself.”

They all stood in heavy silence for a long moment.

Finally, Master Girt shrugged. “So, we don’t kill him, and we have Mistress Vanga scatter deadly plagues about so he might or might not die after we leave? We tell no one—or erase our own memories of the event—so there’s no impact on humanity until some other group comes back to check on the cell. Even then, they’ll just find it intact and depart, none the wiser.”

Mistress Kep was already shaking her head. “Indirect killing doesn’t work. They even tried starving him, a dozen guards cutting him, only one with a poisoned blade… so many things. It doesn’t matter. Connections are formed.”

Tala found herself nodding. “All are tied, and all actions forge threads of existence, bindings made of reality itself.” She remembered the links within the Doman-Imithe. “His soul must somehow travel down the strongest one if he is killed.”

The Paragon shrugged. “That’s a theory, but I have no idea. They also warned that they are guessing on his death having to be caused by others. They are fairly certain, however, because he could have killed himself to get free when they first put him away, if he’d had that ability. Even so, we need to be careful. Form no bonds.”

“So, we shouldn’t let him speak?”

Mistress Kep sighed. “Whoever prevented him from speaking would be ‘saving the others from him,’ thus creating a connection in that manner.”

Mistress Cerna cleared her throat, interrupting what was clearly ramping up to be a veritable storm of ideas, “Mistress Kep, what do we do, then?”

The Paragon smiled gratefully. “Again, I’ll want to verify, but right now, my thinking is this: Go in, keep him from leaving, and have a perfectly mundane interaction with him. Don’t let it be special in any way, either from what happens, or what doesn’t. It isn’t perfect as the very environment of the interaction makes it special, but that’s the best that we have, and don’t kill him.”

There was a moment of silence before Mistress Kep nodded, almost to herself, and turned back to the pedestal to keep working.

Tala cleared her throat. “What’s going to happen to the fount?”

That drew everyone’s attention.

Mistress Kep sighed, turning back once again. “It will be kept with the magical items until they are claimed. At which point it will be analyzed to see if we can determine the most humane course of action.”

“That make sense, thank you.” Tala hesitated, then added, “I apologize for the interruptions.”

The Paragon smiled and waved that off, turning back to the pedestal, and beginning to go through all of the recorded messages, seemingly storing them in the Archive through some means or other.

“Come on.” Master Clevnis clapped Tala on the shoulder as he walked by. “This is going to take even longer than usual.”

Tala had to admit, from what little she understood of the situation, it seemed like they would be here for a while.

While Mistress Kep worked, they broke apart their improvised vehicle and stored the parts that were useful, distributing the rest around the valley outside the fold.

Then, they all retreated into the folded space and closed it behind them, making it so they wouldn’t have to deal with the outside world until they were done with this odd creature, locked away for the safety of the world.

Even so, Tala—and presumably Mistress Kep—still had ready access to the Archive.

-Ahh, blessed updated Archival link. How useful you are.-

Indeed.

It was getting toward night, and Tala was eating the last of her supper surrounded by her unit, but she couldn’t get something out of her head. She knew she was likely missing something obvious, but it just wouldn’t leave her alone.

Mistress Petra had prepared everyone’s meals—the unit had gone shopping for supplies for the woman the day before—and Mistress Cerna was over the moon at having fantastic food even outside the city.

But that isn’t what Tala was hung up on. “Mistress Vanga?”

The healer swallowed her current bite, regarding Tala, “Yes, Mistress Tala?”

“I understand how this guy isn’t really killable, but… why does it matter? Why did he need to be imprisoned?”

The Refined set her tray to one side, seeming to consider. Finally, she nodded to herself, “Well, in most cases a brief outline of the reason would be here, along with the explanation of who the prisoner is and what they can do. So, you’re right to ask as we generally would know. In this case, however, his story seemingly is what gives him power and access, somehow. So, telling us what he’s imprisoned for would be counterproductive. That said, I would guess that he used his ability to reincarnate quickly when killed in order to do things that would get him killed.” She shrugged a bit helplessly, “Honestly, even if he never did anything specifically wrong, each time he died, he effectively killed someone else to avoid the consequences of his actions.”

“Ahh, yeah. I can see that being a problem.”

Mistress Vanga smiled in return. “Indeed.”