Solo The Price of Magic

[Alice Weaver]

62th of Spring, 522

Lhavit had an atmosphere over it. Unspoken concern laid thick over the sparkling streets as the towers seemed to loom ever more ominously. People on the streets spoke in hushed tons of the rising prices of meat and other such goods while other walked around with vacant expressions, processing the loss of a loved one to the Unforgiving mountain ranges.

The animals are going insane some said

Caiyha has turned her back on us others whispered in hushed tones

And some? Some were simply unbothered by wild animals and domestic pets switching to becoming aggressive. That particular someone didn’t really have to eat…or interact with the physical world so not having fresh meat or being mauled by a dog was pretty low on her levels of concern.

“Infinity! I’m heading out.” A man skidded down the halls of the Manor crumpling up the soft rug underfoot as they slid down the hall and bounded down the stairs. “The dusk tower is offering lessons and I’d rather die again than miss them.” The man spoke as he hopped on one foot and pulled his leather boots up.

The house’s attention turned to the ghost residing inside this hollow body and send a wash of concern that Alice, in the body, waved away with a casual wave. “Yes yes. I promise I won’t get attacked by some hopped-up pigeon on my way there. When I come back you’ll be looking at a scholar, aurist, spiritist, hypnotist, lady. A general master mage.” They cackled as they turned and slammed into the door in their haste, briefing forgetting that they were, at the moment, very corporal.

As they were stumbling back from the impact the door slowly and with great sass creeeaaked open. They blinked in surprise. The house had to make it creak like that. It was doing it simply to sass her and prove a point.

“Fine. You win Infinity. I’ll be careful.” As they closed the door behind them. By the gods was it weird how smug a house could be as they stepped off the porch into Lhavit proper leaving behind the sentient manor laughing to itself.


People really were quite worked up about this whole animal shtick as Lhavit felt more empty than usual. A cat hissed and yowled at them as they passed by it and moved to swipe at them. Its claws beat ineffectually against their leather boots as the body’s reflex triggered and their boot lashed out catching the cat in the ribs.

Cats weren’t very heavy and Cavan was quite well muscled as the calico sailed through the air and thudded some distance back in the alley it emerge from. They heard the scrabbling of claws as the clowder of hidden cats scattered after seeing their fearless leader so casually defeated.

“Oh, my gods there are literal packs of cats hunting people. What is wrong with this city.” Alice shook their head as they picked up the pace. Suddenly the singing birds in the trees seemed just a bit more menacing and the baying of dogs in the distance felt just a tad more murderous than they had any right to be. They picked up their pace, beelining but staying on the well-worn and semi-patrolled streets towards the Dusk Tower. The whole time a small, almost pure white, the bird was flitting behind them. Hoping from one branch to a rooftop and back again, there was a darkness in the bird's eye. It promised pain, suffering, and anything else its four-ounce body could inflict on someone.

“Maybe I’ll say hi to Mads when I swing by…maybe not. She’s probably busy.” They hummed to themselves trying to ignore the possible murder bird behind them.

WC:626

[Alice Weaver]

The Dusk Tower couldn’t have come into sight soon enough as the bird began to hop and jump around in some sort of territorial dance on the building on their right. At least they hope it was a territorial dance, it could have just as easily been a mating dance in which case they were flattered but not interested.

When they finally saw the tower all thoughts of the bird flew from their mind as they were enraptured by the massive amount of flora that coated the tower. A perfectly manicured lawn stretched for as far as the eye could see as marble and sparkling skyglass erupted from the field of green, twisting into the sky to form the tower. The material twisted and flowed together so that one could not tell where one material began and the other ended.

They caught their step and made their way towards the main entrance that was dominated by more plant life and large wooden double doors that were thrown open as people, for this day and this day only, were allowed into the Tower for a chance to learn something mystical. A few heads turned towards Cavan as they entered, a jar of soulmist in one's hand marking them as possible spiritists.

They gave the three men a wave and a smile specifically at a sturdy forty-something man with a thick black bear and a twisting mustache that was dressed much more plainly than his other companions.

“Greetings, Royce. I’m not some rogue spirit hijacking some poor sap's body. I’m simply here for the lessons…unless you want a rematch without Madeira around?” They spoke as they approached the tensing Spiritist, letting their Syrian accent overtake their cultivated Lhavitian one. A flicker of recognition sparked in Royce's eyes.

“Miss Alice, a pleasure to meet you again,” He said gruffly as he gave a head nod towards the ghost. “If you are here for the lessons talk to Mr. Mirihar. He will point you in the right direction.” He gestured with a large hand towards stairs that curled up to the second level of the Tower.

“Thank you, Royce. I’m glad to see a familiar face and not get slide-tackled when I first stepped foot into the tower.”

“As am I, Miss Alice.” He said to their back as they began to mount the steps to the second floor along with a few others that had a look of awe on their face. Alice stopped a few stairs up and looked over her shoulder, calling to Royce.

“And Royce? Madeira doesn’t need to know everything about my life, ok? I’ll be quite cross if I find out you tattled.” They let out a light laugh as they continued their way up the blindly white marble steps, boots echoing softly across the stone. They didn’t wait for a response from Royce as they reached the second story, confident that Royce wasn’t one to tattle on them, and was greeted by a small desk of marble manned by a younger-looking human male with slicked-back brown hair, soft, round facial features and a sharp suit as they managed a few pieces of loose paper on their desk with smooth and flowing strokes of a quill.

Mirihar looked up from his pages at the group of ten or so people that stood with Alice as she moved Cavan towards the middle of the group, using their bodies to mask any possible tells of a ghost they still might be presenting.

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[Alice Weaver]

“I take it you are all here for the lessons?” He spoke with a crisp and clear tone, not rude but also not kind, efficient was the best word that could be applied to his demeanor. “Let me welcome you to the Dusk Tower then. It is five Kina per lesson and we are offering Autistics, Arcaneology, and Spiritism. Please step forward, mark what lessons you would like, deposit your coin and go to the marked classroom. Please enjoy yourself and turn what you learn here towards helping those in our gem of a city!”

He finished with a final flair as he produced sheets of paper and the people waited to shuffle through as more eager students came up to the second floor from below. It looked like it was going to be quite the turnout!

After a few beats, it was Alice’s turn as they took the quill in hand and quickly checked off all three of the boxes and passed over the fifteen kina it set them back. At the bottom of the page, there was a momentary pause as their eyes passed over where a signature should go before they signed Cavan Weaver at the bottom. It only seemed right for Cavan to take Alice’s last name, after all, she was his soul at this very moment.

“Enjoy your lesson, Mr. Weaver. You will be in Classroom 4A. It's just down that hall you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you, Mirihar. Have a pleasant day,” They gave a small nod and made their way down the hall with six other people of various heights, shapes, and sizes, as they cracked the wooden door open in front of them as their steps faltered. The room was remarkably familiar, down to the gashes gorged out of the dark wooden table. This was the classroom where Alice was summoned to fight Maderia’s students. What a small world they all lived in.

Their teacher was absent as everyone shuffled in and took their seats, equally spread out across the small classroom that had its window thrown wide open letting in a pleasant breeze. Alice took a seat a row back from the front and off center to the left. They wanted to be able to hear everything but not directly within the view of the teacher. The perfect willing student position but not the teacher's pet spot which was what Alice was going for.

They noted two students pulling out a piece of paper and a pot of ink and Alice briefly cursed inside that maybe they should also have brought note taking supplies as well but with how excited they were it would be a miracle if the information was any less than burned into their mind after the day was over.

The spirit got their second surprise when the door creaked open and admitted their teacher for the day.

Well, Alice thought to themselves glumly. There goes my chance of this not getting back to Madeira… as none other than Chiona Dusk walked in, now Maderia’s wife and bedmate. Chiona looked stunning as always, her youthful look sparkled as her effortlessly coiled dark hair rested on her shoulder and her tawny eyes quickly and efficiently nailed each student to the desk they sat in as if looking deeper into them. Her piercingly intelligent eyes lingered for moments longer on Cavan’s form as Alice shrunk deeper into the body as if to escape the gaze. The jig was well and truly up now as it’d cycle back that Cavan was taking lessons at the Dusk Tower.

WC:601

[Alice Weaver]

Well. There was no path now but forward as Alice took a deep breath and pulled their mind back on track, coughing softly to clear their throat as they watched Chiona take her place at the front of the classroom. She sat with crossed legs and folden hands on the desk with picture-perfect grace as she let the silence build for a few moments before speaking.

“What do any of you know about magic?”

A few hands raised and were called upon. A young-looking woman who wore an apron stained with flour had the air of a baker around them speaking up.

“Magic is Magic. It's what mages do to make fire from thin air or banish a spirit from haunting someone.”

“Yes. That is true those are things that Magic can do. But that is not what magic is,” Chiona said goodnaturedly as she shifted her hands to rest on either side of her on desk. “I’m here to give you all a crash course on what magic is and a few practical applications of it. You were the few who paid the price and time for all the classes so I intended to provide. I will start with one of the drier topics but one that is no less important if you do not want to kill yourself, arcaneology.” She said as an uncomfortable feeling settled over the room and even Alice got a chill.

“Yes. I said kill. Magic can and maybe will, kill, maim, or otherwise rip you apart if you do not know what you are doing. It's my job to make sure that that does not happen. And if it does that you only take yourself out with your error!” She finished with a laugh at her own joke. “But seriously, practice in a controlled environment and try not to blind yourself. Magic is a knife, not a toy.”

With the warning given Chiona hopped up from the desk and began a sedated walk from one side of the classroom to the other.

“Now let's see…” She said thoughtfully as she tapped a slender finger to her chin. “Let us start with what magic is composed of.”

“djed is the essence of the soul or is the soul or is simply produced by the soul. There are many interpretations and it will be up to you to decide what one you truly want to believe but nevertheless, djed rests within our souls. It is what makes us…well us! It also has another name, ‘backbone.’ Some call djed other things but djed is the most common terminology you will hear.”

She looked over the classroom at hearing the scratching of paper and quill as a man and woman were rapidly scrawling.

“D-J-E-D,” Chiona said and the man looked up with wide eyes. “Don’t worry about it, Mathias, you’ll figure out how I did that in a few hours.” A grin tugged at her red lips.

“But djed is who, what, and where we are. Everything has its djed and the manipulation of that djed is what allows magical effects to spontaneously appear. There is an example that clearly demonstrates this property but is a tad bit dry so try to stick with it please.”

She warned her students as she pulled out a piece of chalk from her pocket and in one smooth move drew a perfect circle on the chalkboard at the front of the room.

“This,” She slapped her hand into the center of the circle. “Is djed. Right before your very eyes. As soon as I touched this piece of chalk to the board I began to transform its djed. It went from cylindrical djed to circular djed. It is the source of its Identity as a circle and its Nature as a circular object.”

“We also have the same concept. Our djed is who and what we are. It determines how we look, how we act, and what we do within our lives. My djed is vastly different from your djed simply because we are not the same person.”

“djed is the Identity and Nature of an object. Follow?”

Alice raised their hand.

“Yes?”

“But if it's the nature and Identity of an object does that mean something is always set on a specific path and will it just always go there? Are we just all destined to become circles?”

Chiona let out a light laugh, “It's a very valid question and it's a great segway into the next part of djed. The three laws. The first law relates to your questions Al-Cavan.” Chiona started before she switched names midway through and continued on without a hitch.

“The first law is that djed can never be created or destroyed, only transformed. So the notion that djed is consumed when you cast magic is simply wrong. You are just converting your djed into something else, a magical phenomenon. This can be demonstrated like this.” And with quick strokes broke the circle into countless cone shapes with five lines. “The circle is still there. It’s simply altered and changed to something that is no longer a circle and not circular anymore. The circle is still there, you can still see the circle, but it's now more than that. The circle simple djed has been changed to a more complex din by the nature of my interactions with it. The world interacts with everything around it and that is displayed by changes in a person’s or object’s djed. That is how we grow and learn as people, through deformations and restructuring of our djed.”
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[Alice Weaver]

“The Second Law is that not all djed is treated equally. Some are purer than other sources. The circle is a great example of this.” She took a few steps and ended up in front of Alice gesturing for them to stand up, they obliged.

“If I take this chalk and do this,” The ‘this’ was drawing a line right down Cavan’s midline, splitting his face and torso with a line of white. Chiona continued with a smile as Alice sputtered on the dry chalk that got into their mouth. “Does that line make Cavan any less Cavan?”

A smattering of no’s rang out from the classroom.

“Very good,” Chiona gave a nod. “The chalk's djed is nowhere near strong enough or pure enough to dilute the djed that makes up Cavan’s body. But if I were to use a knife to cut him the djed of the knife would be stronger than the djed of his skin and be able to deform it and press into the skin’s djed what the knife’s djed wants to do. Cut.” Chiona let out a whistle, “Boy, djed is no longer sounding much like a word, is it? I’ve said it so often but I regret to inform you we have a few more things to get through about djed.”

“The last but not least is the Third Law of djed. That is some transformations are irreversible.” She spoke as she gestured for Cavan to sit down and they did, rubbing a hand across their face to remove the flaky chalk. “When you burn a piece of wood it can never go back to being a piece of wood. It is now and truly charcoal. No amount of anything will turn that back. Let me give you some advice…never permanently transform your djed. It is not worth it and you are likely to hurt yourself and others in the process. I want all of you to promise me that you won’t turn your djed into charcoal, ok?” As her eyes flashed to each individual in the room to get a nod of conformation.

“This will all make more sense once you learn a magic of your own. Those that practice magic are better able to sense and understand djed, those with Auristics being the aptest at it.”

“Yes, Lily?” Chiona called on the baker woman who previously raised her hand.

“You say we all have djed within us…but where does it come from?”

“Ah! A wonderful question with a simple and plain answer. It comes from the good we eat and then expend it as we work throughout the day. As we get older we are less efficient with absorbing djed from food and it's that decrease in the concentration of djed that leads to death.”

“Now into the more interesting theory. What happens when you expend djed, types of magic, and most importantly, Overgiving. And I will also mention that this is a very painfully brief overview and I urge you all to pursue and ask questions about this topic. It is very applicable to anyone, mage or otherwise.”

“Moving on. When a mage draws from their own internal djed, Personal magic, they are throwing a piece of themselves out to influence the world and reshaping that djed into an effect. Each wizard has an expendable reserve, extra energy, of djed that they cast from. World magic doesn’t require this as it draws djed straight from the Environment. This is a mostly hard limit on how much magic a wizard can cast on a day-to-day basis but sometimes, especially with personal magics, a wizard can draw too deeply and dip into the structure of their soul to cast magic with that djed. We call this Overgiving. Overgiving can range from a mild headache to a nose bleed, to wanting to cast more, we call that the Sweet Whispers, to bodily malformations, death, and insanity.”

She stared hard out into the classroom from the front. “Learn your limits, and learn them well. Push only past them when you are in a safe, controlled environment. Use only magic that you can do as easily as blinking in combat, in stressful situations, or even when you are sick. Whenever you cast magic you must be at your peak else you risk destroying yourself. Magic is a tool, a dangerous tool, treat it and yourself with respect and you shall be fine. Do not end up like some Aurisits who blind themselves and are lost in hallucinations, or Reinmancers who have their body transmuted into stone.”

“Yes, Cavan?”

“You said Overgiving happens mostly with Personal Magic. What about World Magic?”

“Practitioners of World Magic don’t Overgive in a standard sense, more…loss of focus. A ruining of the animation they were working on, a malformed glyph, or an inefficient alchemical transmutation. That’s not to say they are less dangerous, a rogue golem, an explosive glyph or an alchemy circle going critical can be terrifying events, they simply happen for different reasons of a lack of focus.”

Alice nodded their head as they mulled over the mass of information they were just given and they felt their fellow students doing the same thing.

“For now let's take a twenty chime break as you process. I have to take care of something.” And with that Chiona left the room with a few graceful steps and left her students to process.

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