-Tales of the East
A constant buzz echoes through the vault as I bend over the table before me. My crown sits on a platform of copper wire. I might have gone with silver, but we are far from anywhere I could purchase some. Perhaps Jess could smelt some coins into ingots and turn them into wire. Her new forge is impressive, but it is so large that we have to stop the ship to have her set it up. I shake my head, returning my attention to the task at hand.
The thaumometer buzzes, the dial holding a constant stream as I run the leads around the inner hoop of the crown, checking that it reads a steady eighteen-point-six thaums over the entire surface. Galea floats at my side, whispering to me the repeated instructions I told her to spew ad nauseum, making certain that I do not skip any steps. Readings taken, I put down the leads to the thaumometer and take up my engraving tools. Under the magnified gaze of several lenses in series, I clear the runes etched in the crown of debris: dirt, general grime, dandruff, and a brown stain that looks like dried blood. The upkeep on such valuable equipment is incredible, but given the value of the item, worth it.
I still don’t have the confidence to disassemble the piece. The armor that I looted from that ancient underground cave had been made to be taken apart, made to be able to replace the enchantments inside, but the crown is a piece of art not to be tampered with. More astounding than its benefits, is the fact that it has retained the mana powering it for as long as it has. Finished clearing the runes, I sigh, sitting back in my chair.
“How about now?” I ask the fey spirit.
Galea floats before the crown, taking only a moment to run her magical feelings over it. She turns back to me, shaking her head. “The efficiency has increased, but I can unlock no further functions. I am sorry, mistress.”
“Don’t be.” A stab of magical current shocks through my fingers as I lift the crown from the copper coil. I turn over the polished metal in my hand, the minuscule runes running around the inside of the hoop having vanished out of the aid of the lenses. “What you have unlocked is more than enough.”
Crown of New Lineage(Mythic):
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Enhancement: +180 attribute points, able to be distributed at the discretion of the wearer. <+60 Magic><+60 Speed><+60 Recovery><+10% all attributes>
Focus: Sharpens the mind of the bearer, helping to prepare them for the challenges of power
Shield: Call upon the power of the crown to create a magical barrier to protect the bearer
The crown continues to hold its position as my most powerful item and not by an insignificant margin. Placing it back on my head, I feel its power seeping into my mind, sweeping away the dust and debris that I was incapable of seeing before. It is not that my sight sharpens or that I am suddenly able to do complicated mathematical computations that I could not before, but I feel for the first time that I would be able to if I took the time to learn how. Turning to my continuing project, turning my fine coat into a piece of real magical equipment, I feel no need to have Galea stand near me and show me different pages of my enchantment glossaries. The information is easy to recall.
Orbs of black sand rearrange my workspace, bringing the coat back to the table in front of me and putting away the equipment I no longer need. Laying loose, it looks like a normal coat, over-priced, a sleek gray with subtle decorations that hint at its expense, and the finest piece of clothing I have ever owned. Opening it up, the undone lining on the inside shows a layer of sturdy cloth I have inserted into the lining, golden and infused stitching connecting constellations of power on the white manacloth inside.
The leads of the thaumometer are deposited into my hand by a pinch of black sand, and I take my time testing each mana confluence inside the stitching. On the wall in front of my table, dozens of papers hang stuck to the wall, each an attempt at recreating the genius of my old armor’s inner lining, experiments at puzzling out their meaning, theories about what manas might be required to achieve their desired effects. Running down the length of the wall next to them is a list of affixes that I need to be on the lookout for, ones that I might take some time to hunt down if I ever find the time. That is what stops me from creating my first real expression in the art of enchantment.
The leads confirm for the third time that all of the mana running through the infused mediums of the golden thread reads as stable. I need to summon the courage to put down the leads and begin stitching the coat back together into its final form, for now. Enchantment is never complete, you only stop working on it for a time.
The stitching complete, I stand, furling out the coat in front of me. With the lining, it is a bit more stiff than it was originally, but there isn’t much to do for that. Two cuts through the back run down the sides of the coat, necessary for me to be able to call upon my wings at will without tearing the piece apart. Wearing backless blouses underneath this coat I have found to be the best way to work around the clothes-shredding aspect of the ability.
I toss the coat back onto the mannequin, taking a step back to admire the piece. The fashionability persists, not something I am responsible for, but something I took great pains to maintain. After all, it would be a tragedy for my first big project to turn out to be an ugly rag.
Fashionable Coat of Protection(Rare):
This item, created by the novice enchanter Charlene Devardem, represents the ideal of not needing to sacrifice looks for function, the dream of many enchanters. The inaugural foray into true enchanting, this garment bears the future hopes of a young enchanter.
Enhancement: +20 Defense, +20 Magic Defense
Repair: Given a steady supply of mana, this item will repair and clean itself
A smile comes to me as I look it over. True, it is nowhere near as powerful as the crown, not even as powerful as many of the items I have, but this is something I made myself. The weeks that I have spent working on this feel worth it in this moment, even if I am not nearly finished with it.
The self-repair enchantment is the only aspect that I did not work out myself. As it turns out, the enchantment is fairly common in higher-grade equipment, and I managed to purchase a patch for it before leaving Grim. Very expensive, but if it can help me stop running through new clothing all the time, it will be worth every iron penny.
Pulling the coat of the mannequin, I throw it over my shoulders, feeling its weight settle on me. It’s warm. It’s perfect.
“We should go outside,” I tell Galea. “Don’t want to miss too much time with our friends.”
“Your friends,” Galea says.
“They would like you if they knew you existed,” I tell her, commanding the black sand to begin putting all of my equipment back in its proper place. I take another look at the list of sought-after affixes that I have up on the wall, making certain that I memorize them all. “It would be best to get out of her before they decide to make fun of me for being a homebody.”
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“That is insane,” Jess claps her hands, far too excited, leaning forward in the plush chair.
The ship cruises comfortably along, following the path of the road far too high in the sky to be noticed by most. I don’t plan to repeat the same mistake that I ran into crossing the border into the empire. Only those that I want to notice us, should.
“I know,” Jor’Mari says, laying back across his chair in the most reclined position he can manage. He makes a show of it, gradually swiveling to the side now and again, almost laying completely across the arms of the chair now. “I feel like I noticed it before, but I never knew how bad it was.”
My cheeks flush as I stare at the ground. A smattering of coins litter the rug around the legs of my chair and even a crystal glass lays discarded, the remnants of wine clinging to the bottom corner inside.
“She is faking it,” Dovik protests. He shuffled the deck of cards in his hand, his coat draping the back of his chair. It only really struck me today how seldom I see the man without his coat. He looks better without it, especially with his inclination to wear well-tailored shirts. “She has to be.”
“Why would she?” Jor’Mari asks. “Nope. It’s a divine weakness, has to be.”
“Those are a myth,” Dovik says, pointing at the man. “They are a myth created to disparage humanity, and I would have you not repeat it.”
Jor’Mari just shrugs. “Explain it then.”
“I thought I already had.”
Before they can break into a real argument, Jess draws my attention by slowly moving her hand in front of her, a silver coin catching the light rebounding off the cloud tops around our soaring ship. “You aren’t faking, right?” she asks me.
“I don’t know where this obsession came from,” I manage. “This is dumb.”
Instead of replying, Jess tosses the coin to me, a soft and gentle underhanded throw. I should let it hit me and bounce away, show that I am done with this weird game. Instead, seeing how slow the toss is, so easy, I reach out to catch. The coin plinks off the nail of my index finger as I try to snatch it, spinning away. I grab again, managing to punch the coin this time and send it soaring across the room of the ship to pop against the wall before rattling to the floor. Again, a blush comes to my face. My traitorous hands curl into tight balls.
“I have seen you catch an arrow,” Dovik says, pointing an accusing finger my way. “You have caught them out of the air, right in front of me. I refuse to believe this is real.”
“If she can purposefully fail fifteen catches in a row like this and manage to look that embarrassed, I applaud her prowess at acting,” Jor’Mari says.
“Don’t be mean,” Jess says, looking between them. “Sometimes, people are just bad at certain things.” Despite her words, she reaches into the pouch at her side, retrieving another coin.
Exeter help me.
“We have arrived,” Galea says into my ear, giving me an excuse to stand.
I hurry back to the throne, stopping the ship and bringing us to descend below the clouds. The world becomes a white shadow for a moment as we drop, green and clear blue sky coming back a moment later as the ground comes into view. Two roads begin to form out of the seemingly endless fields of grass and wheat, becoming wide troughs of packed dirt, no travelers in sight.
“We are here,” I say, turning back to the rest.
The mood changes, joviality falling away. Jor’Mari rolls himself from his chair, standing and looking at the approaching ground. Jess climbs from her chair, setting herself to pick up the coins she threw at me.
“This is it?” Jor’Mari asks. He squints down at the landscape, and I see a spark of recognition come to his eyes. He must be feeling the same thing I do, the pull toward home, a tightness in the chest at feeling like you know this place.
“This is it,” I confirm. I point along the north road. “Westgrove will be that way.”
“And Danfalla that,” he says, nodding toward the east road. “In less than two days, I’ll be home.”
“We both will.” I try to put on that smirk I so often catch him wearing, but a sudden swell of emotion wets my eye. I turn away, stowing the feeling away, making a show of closing the door to my vault and making it vanish. When I turn back, Dovik is standing beside me.
“Are you sure you want to go your way now? It isn’t as if we are in a rush here, we can go to both places,” he says.
I shake my head, folding the key to the ship in his hand. “We are in a rush. Just because the deadline is more than two years away, doesn’t mean that we can take our time. Almost no one makes it out of the second rank; we need to be different.”
He huffs, turning over the key in his fingers. “We already are different.”
“Best we stay that way then. You know how to fly this thing, right?”
“Of course. Flown it more than you have,” he says. He motions over his shoulder. “Go say your goodbyes to them. They are going to miss you.”
“And you won’t?”
“Nah.” He walks backward, stopping against the arm of the throne in the center of the ship. “I could use the space, farm girl.”
Jess is on me even before I turn, wrapping me in a hug so tight I fear my arms will snap. I flap my hand uselessly against her side, unable to reach her back. “It will just be a few weeks,” I tell her.
“I’m not going to take that for granted. You keep yourself safe.” She pushes me away, holding me by my shoulders, squeezing them tight. “Don’t do anything dangerous.”
“What is there to do that is dangerous? There are no powerful monsters around here.”
“That doesn’t mean things can’t be dangerous.”
“Okay.” I peel one of her hands from my shoulders and give it a tight squeeze. “I won’t do anything dangerous. You worry about enjoying Danfalla. I’ve heard that the Mari dutchy’s capital is incredible.”
“It is,” Jor’Mari says.
Jess just about turns me into him, and I need to stumble aside to avoid colliding with him. She winks at me when I throw her a glare. Jor’Mari stands there, against the invisible barrier that marks the ship’s wall, doing his best to look nonchalant. I think he pulls it off rather well.
“Are you ready to see your family again?” I ask him.
“Are you?” he returns.
“My mom is going to be a terror. I never told her that I was leaving in person, just sent a note.”
“That doesn’t sound like you,” he says.
“It was me, not anymore though.” I command Galea to turn the dome of the ship, opening the doorway near me. A rectangle of color slides up from the platform of the ship, leading outside.
“Two weeks,” Jor’Mari says.
“Or three, if you want to spend more time at home,” I say.
“Two weeks,” he says again.
I smile at him, and he returns that smirk of his. The moment threatens to roll on into awkwardness as we look at each other. His fingers brush against my own, and for an instant, I feel an urge come over me, one I have ignored many times before but not this time.
Before he can react, I step forward, pushing myself onto the tips of my toes, bringing my lips up to meet his. A shudder runs through him, and the smirk on his lips spreads into a real smile. He brings his hands up to grab my shoulders, but I am already away, walking backward toward the square hole in the unseeable wall.
“Don’t forget me,” I tell him.
“Never,” he says.
Open air meets my heel and I fall back into the air. I allow myself a moment to roll, to fall over myself in the wind, before calling on my magic. Crimson wings unfurl from my sides, turning my tumble into a swooping dive toward the ground. I push mana into my wings, spurring them to carry me faster, and the stalks of grass and grain beneath me blur in color as I race past. The call of home reaches out to me. I am so close now.
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