What We Do to Survive

I was sitting in class, honestly bored out of my mind by Professor Shrike’s lecture, when I felt a ripple pass through the room. The ambient mana in the room seemed to shift and roil for a moment and I unconsciously pulled my mana in tightly against my skin. It felt… familiar, but somehow more intense then I half remembered.

Professor Shrike paused in mid sentence and cocked his head to the side as though listening for something. After a moment, another ripple washed over me, all the ambient mana in the room freezing for an instant and then returning to normal.

Professor Shrike loudly cleared his throat. “I do believe we’ve arrived. Quite a distance this time too, that was more intense than usual. I’ll give everyone a moment to adjust.”

It took me a moment to understand what the professor had said, the sudden turbulence around me having momentarily overloaded my mana sense. It was a distinctly uncomfortable sensation, vaguely reminiscent of the overload I’d experienced during the presentation yet distinctly different.

Once I did, I had to agree with his assessment. I’d always felt it before when the Avalon portal had changed locations, but never so clearly. Some of that was my greatly improved skills with sensing mana. I'd made an immense amount of progress in that area over the last few weeks, but not enough to account for that moment of horrible nausea. Apparently, traveling almost a third of the way around the world was much more magically intense than just making a small leap. I was immensely curious how the mechanism that moved the portal worked, but I’d never found anything about the topic throughout my research.

After another moment, Professor Shrike continued his lecture. “Now then, as you can see here, this section of Force is distinctly different from the parts we’ve looked at in the past. While the lower-dimensional sections are rather straightforward, in higher dimensions Force becomes one of the most intricate spell forms that are widely studied among mages.” He paused for a moment and raised a hand up in the air in front of him. After a moment, lines of shimmering mana drew themselves over his palm, forming one of the most basic parts of the Force spell form.

“So, this section should be very familiar to all of you. Can anyone tell me why?”

I waited a moment, but when no one else seemed poised to answer, I decided to go for it. Professor Shrike would always give us an excessive amount of time to answer his random questions and I really didn’t want to spend any more time than was necessary on this part of the class. “It’s the core of a basic ‘force spike’ spell, professor.”

“Very good!” The mana above his palm warped slightly and the rest of the spell’s matrix appeared, though it was drawn out using a different shade of glowing mana. It was a trick he often used in class, and a very helpful one at that. I really wished some of my other professors would copy it, I’d certainly found it very helpful during my own studying.

“Now, can anyone tell me a basic spell that uses a higher dimensional form of the Force form?”

This time, one of the girls in the second row answered immediately. “The fourth-circle version of ‘bulwark’, professor.”

“An excellent example.” The matrix above his hand warped again, restructuring into an unfamiliar matrix. I leaned forward in my seat, studying glowing strands of mana over his hand. I’d heard of the spell before, it was part of a rather famous sequence that had been developed several centuries ago by an Avalon graduate. He’d designed nine versions of the spell, one at each circle, that used the same arrangement of spellforms and had the same sort of effect, but varied immensely in power. It was a very impressive feat of spellcraft, since it was usually impossible to adjust the circle of a spell while keeping so many variables constant.

“As you can see here, this is the third circle version of bulwark. Just like in the force spike spell, the Force section of the spell is rather simple. However, when I move to the fourth circle version…” He trailed off as the spell over his palm warped, looping in on itself in a way that was almost painful to look at.

“As you know, one of the greatest difficulties with spells past the third circle is simulating higher-dimensional parts of the spell-form. This difficulty is particularly pronounced in force spells, as the fourth and fifth dimensional sections of the spell form are particularly complex. There are quite a few upper years who are capable of casting fifth or sixth circle spells but are still unable to manage something like this.”

He thrust his hand forward and the spellform above his hand flashed before disappearing. A translucent wall of force nearly six inches in thickness formed around him in a half-dome. He knocked his fist soundlessly against the surface several times, then dispelled the shield.

“For similar reasons, runes that draw from the Force spell form are some of the most varied from culture to culture. While the elven and ol-dracic symbols for fire and earth are nearly identical, both systems tend to emphasize the higher-dimensional sections of spell forms, so the two symbols for force are completely unrecognizable without knowing their origin.”

I leaned back in my seat, letting Brenda press herself even tighter against my side. The material was interesting, but unfortunately this was a topic I had devoted a lot of attention to in the past, and Professor Shrike wasn’t really going particularly in depth on the topics he was discussing.

Force was one of the spell-forms I knew best after all, I’d studied it extensively over the years since it was well known as one of the most useful spells forms when combined with unstructured magic, and I was already able to cast several fourth circle spells, so I knew how to direct my mana to simulate the higher-dimensional structures of spell forms. For many of my classmates, this was probably a very useful lecture, but I just couldn’t make myself pay attention.

I just… wanted to do something. The middle of this semester had been exhausting, filled with constant planning and frantic preparations. Compared to that, just doing classwork and working on my own projects felt somewhat… dull. Dull was good, I kept telling myself, dull was safe, but just as I’d always known, I did my best work under pressure.

Brenda pressed her cheek against my shoulder, her free hand playing gently with the collar of my shirt. She’d gotten bolder in the last few weeks, as soon as I’d given her an inch she’d begun to push further and further. It was distinctly annoying, but I knew it was good for the plan so I continued to tolerate it. If only her face and personality and voice weren’t so… ugh. She had a decent body under all that fabric, I knew it very well from the number of times she pressed herself up against me, but then she would open her mouth and look at me and I had to remind myself again why I was doing this.

I was going to go out and take a look around, I decided suddenly. It was the capital, miles of ocean and uninhabited rock away from home. Even if I didn’t feel comfortable going back to Kyra, no one would know me here and I could take some time to enjoy someplace so much like my birthplace. It wouldn’t be the same cliffs and fields, but it would be the same sort of landscape, the same sort of people.

Yes, the longer I thought about it, the better the idea sounded. It would be exposed, I still remembered the last time I’d left the relative safety of Avalon’s hidden world, but as long as I kept my wits around me, I should be fine. Compared to the port city, Xethis was a tiny backwater. Even as a fourth circle mage, I was going to be stronger than the vast majority of mages on the island, capital city or not.

I would be careful and quick, just go out for a few hours at most. The area around the portal was typically filled with all sorts of vendors and shops. I could take a look around, get the lay of the land so to speak. Maybe I would finally find something to use for my ritual, I was starting to cut it dangerously close and I still didn’t know what sort of creature I wanted to use for my self-enhancement.

I closed my eyes as Brenda's hand began to play with the top button of my shirt. The things I put up with…

Leana sighed and set the fine-tipped pen down into its stand. The page in front of her was all but blank, only a rough sketch, barely a half-dozen lines, maring the fine white parchment. The same lines that had been there earlier this afternoon when she’d sat down. The same lines that had been there the night before when she’d come back to the paper in her little work room.

Leana leaned back against the wall, ridges on the wood panels digging lightly into her back. The feeling was familiar, almost comforting. She had spent many hours sitting on this stool, minding the counter for the kind family that had taken her in several years ago. After half a decade of jagged, icy-cold stone, the warm irregularity of roughly hewn wood had been a welcome change. She swallowed heavily, tears rising unprompted at the corners of her eyes before she quickly wiped them away.

Setting the pen aside for now, she picked up a charcoal pencil and flipped to a new page in her notebook. She really should be working on the other piece right now, it was an assignment for class that was rapidly coming due, but she just couldn’t do it right now. In the past months, inspiration had always been a short talk with Adonia away. Something about the exuberant girl had always made it so very easy to work, some of her best art coming nearly effortlessly after a short exchange with her girlf– with her. That… wasn’t an option at the moment.

Instead, she turned to her old mainstay, just paper and charcoal like when she’d been a little girl. Her parents hadn’t been poor by any means, her father had owned the shop he worked in and they’d never been pressed for coins, but there had never been enough extra to buy fine art supplies for a child, no matter how talented.

She pressed the tip of pencil against the yellowing paper and began to trace out the picture in her mind’s eye, lines coming almost effortlessly as she pictured the scene clearly as though it was directly in front of her. The ship’s outline solidified first, then the smiling figures standing by the railing, faint smiles discernible on their indistinct features. Soon she moved on to finer details, carefully using the point to articulate the lines of their faces and the carved figures along the gunwale.

The quiet ring of a small bell pulled her away from her work and she hurriedly pushed the notebook aside and sat up straight behind the counter. Uncle always stressed how important presentation was, it was always crucial to put your best face forward towards a prospective customer.

The heavy wooden door, a necessity given the island’s unpredictable climate, swung open slowly, the small brass bell hanging at the top of the door warning her of the potential buyer. After a few moments, a tall, slender man stepped through the half-open doorway, letting the door swing shut behind him with a soft thud. Despite his quick entry, Leana shivered slightly as a cold wind blew in behind him, the first taste of the island’s brutal winters.

Calling out a rote greeting, “Welcome to Hidesticher’s Fine Fabrics, let me know if I can help you with anything, honored customer,” she took a moment to study the man. As she’d immediately noticed, he was tall, even taller than she’d thought at first glance. He’d had to stoop slightly to pass through the doorway, and now stood a head higher than she’d initially thought.

Still, while his height was certainly unusual and likely spoke of non-human blood in his ancestry, that wasn’t what she was looking for today. Instead, she focused on how he carried himself, his clothing, and any other subtler signs of who this man was. As her adopted uncle had always said, knowing the customer was the clearest path to making a good sale. He could scope out a stranger in the blink of an eye and know what they wanted before they did themselves. She was not at that level yet, and doubted she ever would be, but she’d picked up some tricks over the years.

His clothing was fine, but worn and somewhat ill-fitting. Heavy leather boots shone in the dim sunlight trickling in through the window, but she could easily make out the marks of the road on the bottom of each boot. Similarly, his jacket was finely embroidered, but thicker and of a more practical cut than she tended to see worn by the young aristocrats at school.

From his clothing, Lea would have taken him as a traveling noble, perhaps one recently arrived from one of the more remote islands and in need of a wardrobe updated with the latest fashions. However, the way he carried himself was rather odd. His walk was awkward and stilted, not at all the confident strut that was so common among her classmates. It almost reminded her of when an older students had used illusions to impersonate one of the teachers for a stupid prank, he’d had the same sort of halting walk as he’d tried to adapt for an illusion shorter than his own body, but who would try to disguise themselves as someone that would literally stand out in any crowd?

The man glanced slowly around the room, eyes trailing across racks of clothing and displays showing off samples of the many fabrics they offered. He paused for a moment at one of the racks of winter clothing that she’d helped set out just a few days earlier, then briskly approached the counter.

“Can I help you with something?”

He wordlessly set his gloved hands on the counter in front of her, then tilted his head questioningly. She waited for a moment to see if he would say anything, then took a guess. “Are you looking for new gloves, sir?”

He nodded, a sharp gesture that looked distinctly out of place on a human neck, then carefully removed a glove, one finger at a time, and set it down on the counter. Between the odd movements and the way he’d immediately hidden his bare hand in a pocket before she could see it, she silently changed the non-human ancestry to very recent.

She picked up the glove, studying the greenish-blue leather and the deep gouge that ran from the tip of the middle finger to the center of the palm. “Is there any sort of material you are looking for? I’m afraid we don’t carry this sort of leather, but I think we have several pairs that might fit you in a similar shade. If you aren’t in a hurry, I think we can probably repair the damage, though that will cost you.”

After several long moments of silence, she opened her mouth to continue when the customer finally spoke up. His voice was hollow and off-tone, with a strong accent she couldn’t place, but thankfully it was still perfectly understandable. “Repair unneeded. Simply… replacement. Durable, warm, thick. Have gold.”

“Of course, let me grab a few options for you to take a look at.”

“Take time. Not… in hurry.”

“Of course, I’ll be back in just a few moments.”

She disappeared into the back of the shop, weaving carefully between boxes and shelves laden with goods. Thankfully, they’d already unpacked most of the winter stock, so she wouldn’t have to dig through any packed away containers. The size would be an issue however, those gloves were verging on the largest sizes they sold, though she was pretty sure they had a few similar pairs in stock.

She returned a few minutes later, carrying four pairs that matched the one she was given in size. She barely had a chance to set them down on the counter when the man snatched one off the table, raising it to the light and studying the well oiled leather. “Oh, an excellent choice. Those are a rather recent addition to our stock, import–”

He didn’t wait for her to finish, hiding his bare hand under the counter and pulling it on. “Very good. I take. Gold?”

“Oh, um, this pair would be fifteen–”

A handful of polished coins slammed down on the counter before she could finish. “Good. I take. Go now.”

She blinked at the coins, then looked back up “Sir, this–”

The heavy slam of the door cut her off before she could finish. She stood up, looked around, then hurriedly swept the coins off the table and into a presence-suppressing box that she immediately sealed. She looked around again, then cracked open the box and stared at the contents. She picked one up and traced her finger along the squared-off edge of the coin, feeling for the mana inside the metal.

The gloves should have cost ten silver, that's what they’d been marked as in the back. She’d tried to upsell the man a little, but had honestly expected him to negotiate the price down at least a few coins. These were not the silver coins minted by Xethis’ government. They weren’t silver at all, nor the regular coinage she’d been using her entire life. The small bars shone with an inner light, mana-forged gold shimmering under her touch. She swallowed heavily, shoved the ‘coin’ back in the box, and set it down under the counter.

It was the work of a minute to change the sign outside to ‘closed’, lock the door, and slide shutters down over the store’s windows. It was close to the end of the day anyway, and she was certain her uncles would excuse the miniscule loss in potential business. Then she picked up the box and went into the back.

With a grunt of strain, she pushed a shelf several inches to the side, just enough to expose a tiny latch in the bare stone behind it. Sliding a finger into the gap, she channeled a touch of her mana, causing a hidden door to swing open. She slid the box inside, closed the hidden door, and moved the shelf back into place.

Only then, with the largest amount of money she’d seen in her life hidden away as securely as she could make it, did she slump bonelessly to the floor. She took several deep breaths, half expecting someone to rush into the store and demand the money back, but nothing happened. She took another breath and pushed the strange man out of her mind. It was probably best not to think about who or what that man was. Her uncles could figure it out. She had a very poor track record with older, non-human men, and had no desire to add to that chapter of her life.

She slowly stood up and looked around the dimly lit stock room. The smell of oil, leather, and fabric filled her nose, reminding her of the horseback expedition she’d gone on with Adonia just a few weeks earlier. She shook her head to clear it and took another deep breath. A walk, something to clear her head, would do her well.

Apparently that trade portal or whatever it was supposed to be was supposed to arrive sometime soon. The entire town, no, the entire island, had been buzzing about it for the last few weeks. There was an entire market set up in the empty square on the other side of the town, that's where her uncles were right now, getting their stall ready to go. Maybe she could go give them the… good news?