My nightmares weren't long for this world. A cure, or a treatment at the very least, was in sight. I sat up in bed and shook the lingering fear from my head. Huffing sounds could be heard from elsewhere in the apartment, which meant that Betiara was practicing her forms. I stifled my curiosity as I realized that I'd once again failed to Identify my transmuter's stone. Before I did anything else, I fished a pearl out of my component pouch and slapped myself awake. "Time to see what you can do," I said to my stone as I began casting. Secrets of possibility revealed themselves to me as I studied their shifting potential. When infused with Transmutation magic, the stone's effects could be shifted from one to another. It could provide the ability to see in the dark, increase one's movement speed, increase my body's resistance to diseases and poisons, and even provide elemental resistances! I didn't expect trouble today, so I was eager to explore the mechanics of its multifaceted effects.
The scent of food coaxed me from my room. A lentil spread was simmering on the stovetop alongside settling rice and a pan of steamed vegetables. Betiara was moving through her forms, gracefully exacting her movements with utmost precision. "Morning, love. I made breakfast."
"It smells good," I offered as I sat down with my tome.
"Thanks, I've been watching you and Lilika." Betiara paused her exercise and looked to me with concern. "How are you doing?"
"I have stuff to do today, so I'm gonna try to focus on that instead of letting my mind wander." Our eyes met in equal worry. "Thank you for saving me yesterday."
"We saved each other," she corrected. "I'd have been squeezed to death if you hadn't intervened."
"You cut me out of it, though. I... I mean, you're welcome, but also, thank you." Betiara smiled as she tended to the lentils.
"I'd save you a thousand times if I had to."
"I know... I'd do the same." She really loved me. It was hard for me to understand why, or how, but I supposed that I didn't need to. We both had our reasons, and we both had our certainty; I trusted her to that depth and beyond. Reviewing my spell tome provided me a practical set of spells for the day. Once breakfast was done, I aimed to cast Private Sanctum over our apartment to discourage prying eyes. For now, seeing a relieved Lilika descend the stairs brightened the room alongside the rising sun. "Hey, mom."
"Hi there, you two. That smells great, Betiara! Thanks for taking care of that."
"Of course. I like to get an early start."
"So do I, so do I." Lilika sat next to me while Betiara returned to her forms. "What do you have there?"
"I'm memorizing spells for the day. I want to put a Private Sanctum over the apartment before I run my errands."
"That's the one that protects us from scrying, right?"
"Among other intrusions, yeah. It should, as long as I cast it right. It can do a lot of things." I turned my tome to show her the complexity of the spell. Its various arrangements of words were dizzying, to say the least. Spiraled arrangements, shorthands and diagrams filled opposing pages. "This is why I have to sit here and actually memorize these spells. I have a system, so what you're seeing here is actually really condensed. Even then, I needed Sekvi's help to put it together."
"And you do all this when you cast it?"
"That's the goal."
"Betiara, it's two whole pages of symbols and words and drawings! For just one spell! Ain't that a wonder?"
"It's amazing," she responded. "I don't have the mind for it, but I'm glad Madison does."
"You're just trying to make me feel better," I joked.
"Do we need a reason to compliment your work, love?"
"Eh, I... well, it's working." I couldn't help but laugh.
"So what all does it do?"
"A bunch of stuff. I'll set it to disallow sound from passing through the edge of its area, prevent divinatory sensors from looking or appearing into the area... it even blocks teleportation and planar travel."
"All that from one spell?" Lilika looked on with amazement while Betiara chuckled. She knew what to expect of my work.
"I'm invested in our safety," I explained in an understated tone. "It only takes a few seconds, and it lasts 24 hours."
"This makes me wonder what Sekvi could do before they changed careers. It's no wonder they had their own tower." Betiara glanced toward the stairs.
"More than this," I commented. "By the way, um, if you have time today, could you show me some of your forms? Exercise is good for you, and I want to understand your process better."
"Oh, sure! Just find me when you're not busy. I don't have much to do today, so-"
"So you can go for a grocery run," Lilika interjected with a chuckle of mischief.
"So I can go for a grocery run, sure. I'll use the opportunity to scout the city for alternative escape routes." Betiara and Lilika proceeded to discuss a grocery list. We still had an ample amount of food, but there were medicines to make and spices to buy. The sleepy remainder of our group joined us by the time I was done preparing my spells. Sekvi was dressed and ready for the day, but Keff's hair was still a mess.
"Hello, stars in my evening sky! The day is bright, but we shall have our time to shine!"
"Good morning to you too," Lilika offered. "Betiara made breakfast."
"It's ready, come get your plates."
"Thanks, fluffy. I slept like a rock."
"You kind of look like one," Betiara retorted, which prompted a unanimous bout of laughter.
"Fond of rocks, huh? Let's hope your food doesn't reflect that." Another round of laughter erupted. Luckily, our food tasted fine. We decided to forego our usual morning ritual in favor of eating in the kitchen area. Golden light streamed over us, casting equally brilliant shadows. I took a breath and relaxed amid the beautiful scene. Steam from our food rose from each plate as we ate, and despite yesterday's horrors and the looming threat of war, the day seemed bright. These were the moments I lived for: peaceful, quiet and united with loved ones. I preferred not to live a life that could see me eaten by deep-sea mega tadpoles, but this morning almost made it worthwhile. My friends did the rest. Reflecting upon my long-term plans for this world gave me pause without giving me answers. I was going to compose Banishment today... these were plans I would have to make sooner rather than later. Could I even imagine leaving these people behind? It was unfortunately inevitable, Banishment or not. The thought alone was nearly enough to make me cry.
All good things eventually came to an end. Sekvi went out to gather information about the city's goings-on, Lilika stayed home to make medicine, and Betiara went on a shopping trip. Before I left, however, Keff pulled me aside and asked me to accompany him to the sun temple. He hadn't explored their texts yet, and he felt that he was onto something big. I assured him that I'd provide a second set of eyes after I ran some errands and gathered materials from the Conclave. Before I left, I delved into my Bag of Holding and meticulously counted four instances of 100 gold pieces. One stack was placed in each of our respective rooms; I left with plans for the rest of the money. My first stop was a jewelry store on the Seventh Ring. Even the air in the store smelled affluent in a way I didn't enjoy. The staff, however, tripped over themselves to hear my apparently odd request: five small amber beads with holes through the center and an enchanted piece of string that could stretch widely without breaking.
"Are you certain I couldn't entertain you with an ancient insect suspended in amber?" The attendant, an aarakocra of brilliant coloration, raised an eyebrow in uncertainty.
"Thank you, but I'm sure. It has to be empty, and it has to be strung with that grade of string. Is that something you can arrange?"
"I suppose that we can... are you sure this is what you want?" I merely gestured to my spell tome and rested my right forearm over it. Dealing with high society types and acting like a competent mage wasn't something I enjoyed, but I reminded myself that this person was likely working to feed their family, the same as many others. "I see, well, far be it from us to discourage business from the Conclave. Five beads of our finest amber will come to 200 gold pieces. Our payment plans include-" I held my bag atop the counter and raked the cost in full from its depths with my hand. The staff were stunned; the jeweler's loupe fell from her eye as she looked over the pile of money on the countertop.
"That should be 200," I assured the clerk. They blinked, checked a few coins for authenticity, and smiled.
"Your string will be free of charge."
"I appreciate that, thank you." I had my new bracelet within a few minutes' time. The string was given a series of increasing stretches to test its durability, and it returned to its proper shape without any deformation. It didn't lose its elasticity even after putting a boot through the loop and standing up with the other end in hand. "Is there a way to hold its shape?"
"A simple command word of your choice will do just that. It prevents the item from digging into one's skin if one were to gain weight," the jeweler explained without looking away from their work.
"That's absolutely perfect. Thank you all, please enjoy your day." I left the shop with exactly what I needed for one of my new spells. An unassuming amber bracelet would be a more subtle and less dangerous mode of storage than a Bag of Holding. There were other advantages that I would explore over the course of my work, but for now, I had another errand to run. Attention found its way to me as I descended the Rings in search of the Fifth. Most of the looks were positive. I felt happy that people were happy to see me, though I was still adjusting to the experience. Smiles were offered to those that looked upon me favorably, and I began to feel as if Nereved was somewhere I could stay for a time. This thought was unfortunately impotent. I chafed against the city; if I could exist somewhere quieter and less populated without losing this welcome, I would choose it over Nereved in a heartbeat. Confirmation of this fact reached me as soon as I arrived at the Conclave headquarters.
"Nothing good can come of it," insisted a formidable minotaur woman wearing the sash of an evoker. She had confronted me in the hallway leading to the Transmutation department. "We shouldn't have been down there."
"Why not?"
"Wasn't your discovery bad enough?" My ridges furrowed as I considered her question. "What if we find something worse? Now that we know there are discoveries to be made... Old Nere faded for a reason. I'm not sure I want to know what that reason is."
"Well, we can't put the discovery back. I feel like it was probably inevitable; history and truth have a way of echoing regardless of how we silence them."
"But are you okay with that?"
"I don't... enjoy what we found down there, and I don't enjoy what it cost Fithi and I, but we couldn't have known what's down there. The miners would have scouted it, or something else could have happened. We just happened to be the ones to trip over an ancient dragon's tomb." The evoker huffed through her nose. She was a little intimidating, though I knew she didn't mean me harm. I imagined that her concern matched my own, and that she was trying to find answers from as close to the source as she could get. "I'm worried, too. I'm scared of what people will attach my name to just because I was there; I didn't even want to go in."
"I'm not trying to blame you, Miss Cantrell, but you should be worried. Everyone should be. We don't have any idea what kind of old magic could fall into the wrong hands."
"Just Madison; it's fine. I think you're right, but I don't know if there's anything we can do about it."
"You've met the Sun King, right?"
"How does everyone know that?"
"Word gets around, but I saw you in the procession the other day."
"Oh. Yeah, that-, yeah." I felt a strange squirming in my stomach as my back meet the wall. Betiara and I would have to talk later. "What about it?"
"You could talk to him. Try to convince him that it's not worthwhile. If he gives you audience, maybe he'd listen to you."
"You'd have more luck talking to our colleagues in the same way you're talking to me right now." The woman seemed to realize herself and took a step back. Her hooves clacked against the floor. It only seemed to increase her self-consciousness, judging by the way she held her staff closer to her chest.
"I get eager sometimes," she said with an apologetic tone. “The stakes are high.”
"You feel strongly about this. I get it." I rubbed my arm with my free hand as I looked down the hall. "I feel the same way you do, really, but he's not going to listen to me. Any effort is going to be more productive on the ground level."
"You're right... people are talking about war, and I fought in the last war with Alanuwa. They might start conscripting people again."
"I hope it doesn't come to that. Hey, what's your name?"
"Eliphe."
"Eliphe, we're both nervous. Things could change quickly, and in big ways we can't foresee. I understand." The way this woman sought my counsel revealed that she saw me as a source of worthwhile input. She looked up to me, and she looked to me for answers. I wasn't ready for the enormity of this realization. "But you're breathing. You're here, right now, and your existence is consequential. We're mages; we can affect the world around us in ways some only dream about, so what is it that you dream?"
"A world where war isn't necessary."
"What will you do to make that happen?" Silence passed between us. Eliphe nodded her head and sighed in resolution.
"Instead of looking into unknown past, we should focus on the present and how we can make that the future." Her words were confident. Relief flooded me as I realized that I had somehow managed to help.
"I think that's a great way of looking at it. The past is a great teacher, but it doesn't exist anymore. We do."
"Right. Thanks for helping me remember that, Madison."
"I'm just happy I could help. It's... the world I want to live in, too." Eliphe began to part with a smile, but she stopped.
"I can see why you went with Fithi despite not wanting to. You care about people." A hoof-tipped finger pointed to my chest. "You deserve that sash more than most." She left me stunned. The gravity of the encounter fell atop me as if Nereved itself was crumbling. Carrying the certainty of someone's fate to their loved ones and saving the life of a fisherman were impactful, but this was an outcome I'd achieved on my own. I helped Eliphe feel empowered against the ills of the world. After being so terribly afraid and helpless, I was making the change I wanted to see in the world, and I was even supporting others to do the same! It all felt so impossibly large in scope. Tears welled in my eyes as I stood alone with my staff. A shaking inhale allowed me to steel myself. As good as this felt, I decided that I shouldn't waste time in creating greater affect. I was going to do something with the encouragement that Eliphe had given me.
Gwyl was reluctant to part with yet more ink, especially given that I'd be working outside the headquarters today, but I promised that I'd show her the spells I completed during my next visit. The time it took to compose these spells correlated with their complexity; I'd have no choice but to spend substantial time in the department. She understood that wizarding was an exercise in time management, and that there was another life that needed tending. The other transmuters and I greeted each other as I left the department with ink in tow. My anxiety was tempered by Eliphe's kind words, though it grew as I descended further and further down the Rings. Rings Four, Three, Two, and finally One came and went. No additional clearance was needed at the gate to the Caverns this time... I breathed manually to control my quickening pulse as best I could. Familiar amber lights passed me as the lift slowly lowered me into the depths of the earth.
I'd sworn to never return here, but a necessary errand called me forth. It was a task I myself had to complete. As I spotted a rat at the end of the familiar drift tunnel, I took a breath and slid my staff into my Bag of Holding. "I'm alone," I said, unsure of how to announce myself. "Can you call Toddrick? I feel bad for the way things went down, and I have a gift... something to help you all. Gold." The rat eyed me with a sentiment that I couldn't read. They made their exit down the tunnel after briefly holding a paw up, as if telling me to wait. I waited, focusing my effort on maintaining my cool. Myriad shadows reminded me of Therimurk and the nightmares he inflicted upon me. Lactic acid surged into my muscles as my hands trembled with fear. Weakness and fear, the same that I felt several days ago, flooded me from the inside. I wondered if this was a bad idea. The rats likely didn't trust me anymore, and I didn't blame them. Still, I couldn't sleep easily without offering recompense.
The rat returned minutes later and squeaked at me. I didn't know what the squeak meant. Confirmation in the form of a second squeak arrived after I pointed into the tunnel. My boots lightly splashed in the flowing water while my escort ran alongside me. The glow of embedded light was sparse in this tunnel, and unlike Lilika, I had no easy way to light my way forward. I could smell the rats long before I heard them. Mercifully, one of the wererats at the end of the tunnel was a mage. They had adorned the end of the tunnel with a single sphere of yellow Light. I was surrounded as soon as I stepped into the spherical room that contained many wererats, their shapes varied as attention fell to their spokesman. Toddrick's brow rose as he looked me over. I carried nothing but my tome and my bag, and I trembled as he took a step toward me. "What are you doing here, Madison? If you're here to change my mind, you won’t."
"No, I know. It's-, I have 400 gold for you. No strings attached. I can't help you directly, so I figured I could help indirectly. It's yours, for all of you." Gasps filled the room, followed by a tense silence.
"Where did it come from?"
"I sold the publishing rights for a book I've been writing: Star Wars. It's circulating."
"We've heard about it. Episode IV: A New Hope. Why does it start with the fourth volume if it's the first book?" I couldn't help but laugh.
"It would take so long to explain it."
"If you're giving us a gift, why are you so nervous? Did we do something to scare you...?" His words were softer than his tone, but I had come to accept that of him.
"No. Ever since... Therimurk, and everything, I've been terrified of the dark. I'm having nightmares and my head's going a million miles an hour and my body's shaking itself apart. It's all I can think about." Some of the rats murmured.
"Gethur, could you put the Light on her?" The orb of light floated closer and perched itself atop my head. Everything in my immediate vicinity was bright now. I looked over my hands and sighed some of the tension away.
"Thank you. That helps. Sorry, it's automatic, I can't control it."
"I understand," Toddrick said as he gently motioned for me to provide the gift I'd brought. I slowly knelt down and raked 400 gold coins from my Bag of Holding, stepping back once the gift was appropriately rendered. The rats approached to inspect the authenticity of the coins. "You're giving us all this? For nothing in return?"
"Nothing, not even collaboration. It's for everyone, whatever it's needed for. You can put it to better use than I can. That's all." Toddrick seemed to be stunned by this assertion. To prove that this was all I meant to provide, I turned and began to walk back down the tunnel.
"Madison... are you sure? This is an amazing amount of money."
"I'm sure. I'm trying to make the change I want to see in the world. Horizontal partnerships do far more good than vertical oppression stacked on top of itself," I explained, pointing up at the stone ceiling. "By the way, um... do you know of any, like, public food aid organizations? Soup kitchens, charity co-ops, stuff like that?" Toddrick gently placed his hand on my forearm. It was a gesture that took me by surprise.
"I run a non-profit kitchen on the Interior First Ring. Why?"
"I've created a spell that lets me turn raw materials into finished product in minutes. I used to manage a taco restaurant, so I could easily make food with it."
"You can? How much food?"
"Up to a ten by ten by ten cube of it. Uh, it would be, almost two of me long on each side." Toddrick's black eyes widened with surprise. "But you need the raw materials for it. It's what I used to make the books. I'm pressed for time today, but I could swing by and cast it for you."
"And you want nothing in return?"
"The hungriest people eat. I don't need a reward for making the only reasonable choice." We matched eyes for an uncomfortable amount of time. Toddrick relented and passed a nod to several nearby wererats. They shifted and began to scurry down the tunnel.
"Meet us there. You'll find it under the location of the Conclave; you can't miss it."
"How will you all get past the guards?" The wererat gestured to his surroundings with a smile.
"Cracks, crevices, passages. We can reach any location in this city through our network. Lose yourself in the crowd if you can... the light will go out when you leave." His form suddenly condensed into that of a rat, and he vanished into darkness. I stood among the rats that stayed behind as I caught my breath. Keff was waiting for me. I needed to leave the Underground as quickly as I could. The sooner I fulfilled my word, the sooner I would feel the sun on my scales again. The rats were given a wave as I turned and departed the caves, taking my staff into my hand once the Light above my head vanished. I ascended the shaft with gratitude. My fear hadn't been conquered, but it had been faced, and now I walked away from it. The amber lights of the Interior First Ring prompted a sigh of relief. I tapped my staff against the frame of the lift to prompt the guards on the other side. The gate opened, and I stepped forward with renewed purpose.
A building of humble decoration was cut into the rock. It wasn't the largest establishment I'd seen in Nereved, let alone on the First Ring, but it was larger than I expected. The interior contained seating for a few hundred individuals, nearly all of which were full. I was waved into the kitchen area by an elf that I assumed was a member of staff. The equipment wasn't the finest, but it was functional and clean enough to pass a health inspection on Earth. Various stations were laid out in accordance to common sense, though I had a concern that wasn't immediately addressed. "Do you have cold storage?"
"In the back," Toddrick answered as he donned an apron. "Everyone, gather everything we have; it's soup day." The kitchen became a flurry of activity that I was eager to escape. I found a heavy door that revealed a startlingly cold enclosure with metal walls. Various dishes and individual ingredients were stored along several rows of shelves. I expressed my amazement to the nearest staff.
"How is this possible?"
"Magic," they answered with a smirk. Of course the freezer was chilled with magic; I blinked and closed the door. A prep table was staged before the prospective eaters, surrounded with the ingredients necessary to make the intended soup. Toddrick explained that the recipe was a modified version of an Arborean staple, and fully prepared a single instance of the dish for me to taste and observe. It was akin to a hearty potato soup with additional chunky vegetables. A plant that reminded me of thistle provided a subtle, but pleasant herbal accompaniment. I was impressed with the taste, the texture and the cost efficiency, and quickly set to work. The staff introduced me to the patrons as bowls and ingredients began to process themselves. Many looks of wonder fell upon me. The faith placed in me by the others fueled an unflinching focus. For the first time in my life, people literally applauded my efforts.
There were some things that simply couldn't be Fabricated. My soup didn't perfectly match the provided example, even after seasoning it with Prestidigitation, but it was enjoyed by staff and patron alike. People lined up to shake my hand, and I couldn't help but return their smiles. Hours of work had been saved! Hundreds of mouths had been fed! I was unfortunately short on time, however, and bid everyone good day. It would have been nice to stay for a while and talk to people, but simply being recognized was the maximum amount of attention that I could comfortably handle. Toddrick caught up to me as I stepped out of the cafeteria, approval gracing his halfling face for the first time. "Thanks for your help, Madison... we won't forget this."
"I just wish I could do more. The food will be gone soon, and then they'll need more. It doesn't address the root of the problem."
"Not in a practical sense," he offered, folding his arms as he looked past me. "Hope isn't so easy to deplete."
"That's news to me."
"Then why are you here? Are you wasting my time?" I was startled by Toddrick's sudden change in tone, but upon meeting his eyes, I could tell that he wasn't accusing me of something. He wanted me to think. I thought, and I realized that my sardonic attitude was both unhelpful and disingenuous. It was a vestigial part of the person that I used to be.
"No, you have a point. I just lived in hopelessness for so long that the thought comes out as reflex, sometimes." Discomfort shivered my resolve, but I was determined to hold my own.
"And we're lifting people out of that same hopelessness. What did you feel the first time you saw magic do something amazing?" A downward glance aided my recollection as I searched for the answer. I entertained metaphorical answers, literal answers, and even figurative answers. A smile bloomed over me as I recalled my first meeting with Sekvi.
"It happened in two consecutive instances. I saw Sekvi's tower, the white stone and the blue roofing, towering over the rest of Karthos Bend. Pun intended," I joked. Toddrick was more interested in my recollection than my humor. "Um, well, it was a structure that couldn't have been built without magic. My first hands-on experience, though, came when Keff brought me to see them. I couldn't speak any Common then - and I can only speak a little bit now - so Sekvi cast a spell that let me talk with people. So much fear and loss just fell away. It opened a whole new world for me."
"You can't speak Common? Is that why your mouth moves like that?"
"That's why, yeah. This translates both ways," I answered, holding my necklace out for him to see.
"That's great. You see, Madison, you just did the same thing for hundreds of people." Toddrick's gaze was unflinching. It bored into me as if he was making a pointed reminder of this moment. "Think about that," he insisted, leaving me alone as he returned to his business. I decided not to linger. Keff was waiting for me. Much like I had after my encounter with Eliphe, I felt shaken by the sight of my actions bearing fruit. It was one thing to dream about helping the poor or demonstrating against war, but seeing these actions realized was another experience entirely. My values, principles and efforts had all fallen on deaf ears despite being as rational and empathetic they could be. With no interest in lingering upon self-aggrandizement, I quietly proceeded toward my next destination. I had nearly forgotten to mail the bottle of wine I had been saving to Vaun and Rica once again! The postal service quickly relieved me of my error.
The Nereved Temple of Solara was very bright inside. It was tall, featuring a great many windows along its face. Natural light poured in and mingled harmoniously with lanterns of the same color. The clergy wore shimmering robes of white and orange, and they quickly led me to the library. It took me several minutes to locate Keff within the sea of shelves; the library was absolutely massive. "Hey," I whispered as I approached. "Have you found anything yet?"
"Not much yet, just checking unspecified mentions of dwarves that fit the bill. I was starting to worry about you."
"Sorry about that. I picked up some spell components, got cornered in the Conclave by someone worried about Old Nere and the war, then helped Toddrick in his charity kitchen... oh, and I mailed Vaun and Rica that wine."
"Are you alright?" Keff's eyes rang with concern as he briefly parted them from his work.
"Oh, yeah, I think so. I managed to help that person, actually."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," I confirmed, smiling a little as I held my staff close. "Her concerns were valid. I share them; she felt heard." My former employer's expression eased upon hearing this news.
"Good. What are you working on today?"
"Two spells: one that'll let me store stuff in a more secure way than a Bag of Holding, and, um... remember that spell Sekvi told me about way back when?"
"Banishment?"
"Banishment." I felt weight in Keff's sigh as he turned to face me. He reclined and rested his hands atop his stomach.
"Does that mean you're leaving us?"
"I don't want to," I blurted out. "I mean, I... it feels like I should be prepared to take that into my own hands, rather than being ignorant to the possibility of encountering it without a plan. And maybe if things..." I couldn't finish the sentence. Downcast eyes finished it for me.
"No one would fault you if you thought that was best. Things aren't easier for you here, are they?"
"They're hard in a different way, but none of you would be there with me." I took a seat at an adjacent desk and lay my staff across my lap. Its gentle white wood, immaculately sanded, prevented me from drifting too far from myself. "On the other hand, I can't lead a life that nearly gets me eaten. I still don't fully feel like I belong here, just that I belong with you all. It still eats at me."
"When was your life better?"
"Now, but I was alone before. I might have been happier if I'd met the right people on Earth, so is that a fair comparison?"
"You tell me." Keff enjoyed challenging me. I appreciated that in him. My rising social status and my magical ability threatened to remove me from where I belonged, and I feared that my head would eventually go with it. These talks were grounding and immensely helpful in steadying my outlook.
"Objectively, no. That's the problem, though; I don't know how to, like, establish the correct metric for how I feel about things. And what about you all? Would you be alright with me leaving? Would my magic and my true shape follow me if I went back? What if I regret my choice and can't make it back?" These questions had lurked below the surface of my mind, gnawing incessantly despite my efforts to push them down.
"Well... you have a thorough method about this kind of thing. Why not make an experiment of it?"
"If it fails then I could lose you all forever. I don't want that." Keff smiled at me. Why was he smiling at me? That wasn't the kind of sentiment that warranted a smile.
"Sounds like you just answered your own question." I was stunned. My mouth hung open in amazement, the depth of his statement ringing through my entire being. I truly didn't want to leave this place. "We probably can't go back with you. If your place is with us... then your place is here." This was a world in which I could use magic. Not only that, I could make an impact on the world around me. I could also be a dragon in spite of the weight that existence carried. It now felt ridiculous to think that my friends were all that I had in this world; they were simply the vast majority of my consideration, and they were the reason had a chance to live. I felt that I was finally doing more than merely surviving: I was living.
"Now I'm just wondering what I was so afraid of."
"Making the wrong choice. Hurting us, hurting yourself. I'm not trying to make you choose, or anything."
"No, I know. I think I'm just realizing that... I feel it. I want to stay here." I was having a relentlessly emotional day. My eyes welled while I sat with this realization. "I'm still gonna learn the spell. It's known, so I need to protect myself from it as thoroughly as possible."
"Seems sensible to me." The sentiment, as warm as it was, froze the moment between us. "So, you're really staying?"
"Yeah. I'm staying. There's nothing for me on Earth, and there's everything for me here." Keff's eyes welled to match my own. He stood and took me into a hug. I knelt to meet him with one of my own.
"We need you, you know that?"
"You... you do?"
"I would have been fine with hammering metal for the rest of my life if you didn't inspire me to pick new things up. You inspired Sekvi the same way; they let their old life die so they could grow in new ways, too. Lilika has someone to teach and nurture now, and Betiara finally thinks about something besides work. She was a stick in the mud before you came along." I couldn't help but laugh, though I quickly tapered back into silence. Betiara was a distrustful snoop when I first met her. I understood that it was her job to be cautious, but the way she crumpled when she was misunderstood my presence told me that her experience had become fairly one-dimensional. She was far more relaxed now; she was content to further her goal of exemplary leftism through adventuring. None of our group hesitated to help people... they likely felt the same sense of accomplishment that I did. I wished none of this accomplishment had come at the cost of Karthos Bend, though. "We'd follow you if we could."
"I trust that." I gave Keff a firm pat on the back, signaling our parting. "Thankfully nobody will have to, though. Earth felt doomed, but the Cradle feels like a rebirth." The irony of my phrase amused me.
"That's how it got that name. Life came from wild magic, best anyone can figure, entirely by chance. It was a miracle, and there's a culture of gratitude for how surreal it is. We cycle into it, we cycle out of it... most of us don't get old enough to learn all the possibilities life can offer, so we get a few chances."
"That's... so beautiful. I figured it was a word that had a vestigial second meaning."
"Well, it also means to hold a cherished thing, like each other." Keff returned to his chair and reached for his pen. "I think it's only natural that you came here. Anyway, I know your spells take some time; how long will you be working?"
"By my estimate, 12 hours," I sighed. A wizard's work was never done.
"Oh, I can keep myself entertained that long. I'll send for food at the halfway mark, sound good?"
"That sounds great." I began work on Vault of Amber. This spell would be easier to pen than Banishment, so it was a suitable warm-up for the day's work. My Bag of Holding provided an effective chassis for the spell; the mechanics would be very similar, but the result would allow private storage of my items without the risks inherent to combining two meta-spaces in a single location. As well, the weight of the bag would no longer dig into my shoulder. I removed my new bracelet from my arm and spread it over the page. Each bead was then traced with a diligent hand. I transcribed the formulas involved in creating a Bag of Holding within this outline, though my design was more efficient. Instead of creating a demiplane for storage, the items were to be minimized and contained within the amber instead. I felt satisfied with the spell's construction. Words and symbols bled across the pages as I worked with precision. Four hours' work saw two inkwells emptied. It was time to throw the gauntlet down.
Banishment, by its nature, was a cruel spell regardless of its abjurive roots. The target's very willpower would be assailed, and if the onslaught wasn't properly weathered, the target would be punted to another plane of existence. They could be returned within one minute by choice or by my concentration faltering. If I maintained my concentration for that minute, however, they would become entirely dislocated. I almost felt heartless as I considered the usefulness of this spell in battle. Removing a combatant, even temporarily, would be a boon to our efforts in the interests of safety and focusing fire. Still... for someone to be displaced as I had? The fear I felt during my arrival in the Cradle flooded into me. Its emotion ran as deep as my marrow. In the same way that marrow produced my blood, it propagated this fear, this disorientation, and the catastrophe that was universal displacement. I had to tightly control the effects of this spell, and this effort accounted for the majority of today's work.
The arrival of food bought me a much needed break from my ruminations. Keff and I retreated to another space to eat. Banishment weighed heavily on my conscience, so I sought his reassurance. "It's just that... my goal with magic is to impart my experiences onto others. The boons, the more positive spells, are the default. Spells like Banishment and Fireball, though, encompass the most terrifying things I've ever experienced. Even if those are saved for people that specifically deserve to feel what I felt, I feel like using them makes me a bad person."
"Hmm. You know, there's more than one way to be a bad person. There's results, and there's intent; both can make you a bad person, but they both matter." Keff shrugged as he took a bite of his food. "What do you want to accomplish by sharing these experiences?" I recalled my magic's original purpose: to make myself heard and to impart understanding of the person that I was. Now, as I accrued both ability and responsibility, that purpose was changing.
"I want to be understood, and I want them to grow from the experiences as I have."
"For better, or worse?"
"That's up to them," I answered with an air of detachment. It wasn't an answer that I enjoyed, but it was ultimately the truth. Keff watched my expression sink into numbness.
"So your goal's nurturing, even if the circumstances are negative. That doesn't sound bad to me."
"But what about the results? What if someone's so awful or so dangerous to us that I have to run Banishment to completion? If they get displaced like I did?"
"It's up to them, isn't it?" The irony of my words carried a sour taste as I swallowed them. "It happened to you, too. What did you do with the same circumstances?"
"Is it the same? Part of me might have asked for this."
"Someone might ask for it if they threaten your life," Keff insisted, pointing his fork at me. "Come on, answer the question."
"I... made connections, let myself trust, observed possibility and plucked their strings accordingly."
"Right. It's not a death sentence unless you want it to be, or if you’re unlucky. Anything can happen, but you can't control what other people do. All you can do is hope they'll make good decisions. Still, if you're gonna permanently remove someone, take that minute to think about the consequences, huh?"
"I guess it's the best I can hope for."
"Sometimes that's all we get. What about your other spell, though?" I was surprised by the sudden change in topic, but not enough to refuse it.
"Vault of Amber. It's, um, a ritual cast, school of Transmutation. You know my Bag of Holding?"
"Sure, yeah."
"It does the same thing without utilizing a demiplane, so it's a little safer. Plus, it weighs a lot less and a bracelet is a less noticeable magical device than the bag is. Using it will let me adjust my transmuter's stone, too! It's pretty handy. I could even put a full bag into the amber to effectively double my inventory space." Keff sat forward in his seat, clearly interested in this prospect.
"You feel like giving a demonstration?"
"Yeah! Um, here." I slipped my Bag of Holding from my shoulder and sat upon the floor to conduct my ritual. Four bottles of enchanted ink were removed from the bag and prepared for storage. I then draped the loosened string of my bracelet around these items. Quiet chanting filled our remote corner of the empty corridor as I worked. Invoking compression formulas produced a glow upon the items to be contained, gradually increasing in intensity and decreasing their size. Completing the ritual saw the items vanishing from the circle. I held the bracelet up for close inspection, and we saw utterly tiny versions of the stored items within the central bead. "Hah, look at that."
"That's amazing! Can you take them back out?"
"I sure hope so," I said with a laugh. A whispered word of intent saw a bottle of enchanted ink appear in my open palm. "Simple as that." Keff inspected the bracelet and found that there was one fewer inkwell contained within. A sentimental smile came over him as he handed it back to me.
"You know, Madison, I think I'll stop poking fun at your smithing."
"Why? I kind of like it." We rose to dispose of our dishes and return to work.
"There's a notion in dwarven culture. It's what we've built our society on... craftsmanship. Seeing these spells of yours, the thought and work you put into them; it shows that you learned from our short time working together. It's art! Your work has craftsmanship that would earn the respect of any dwarf." He gave my forearm a firm pat. "You've definitely earned mine!" Keff was no stranger to reaching my most vulnerable emotions, but hearing that I'd earned his respect as a practitioner of magic struck new depths. I felt recognized and appreciated in a way I’d hardly felt before.
"Thank you, Keff," I managed in spite of the lump forming in my throat.
"Sure. I can't wait to see what else you come up with." Our work quickly resumed. Keff's perspective on Banishment removed much of the resistance I felt in composing it. Though the spell was of the Abjuration school, it featured prominent elements of Conjuration. The modest displacement in Misty Step gave me a basis for the primary action of this spell. Banishment was essentially a version of Misty Step with all of its principles cranked up to 11: it could be cast on others, its displacement time was longer, and its distance was much further in a manner of speaking. This all came at a cost of energy expenditure and moral reckoning. If I could protect myself against such a spell, then it was a worthwhile endeavor. Night fell long before I was done. Keff, meanwhile, was furiously writing during the last few hours of our work. I was interested in what had him in such a frenzy, but it was best to let him cook. We loosed simultaneous sighs as our work was finally completed.
"You're not gonna believe this," Keff said with a grin. "I've traced my ancestry as far back as I probably can, and... just guess. Guess."
"Um... one of them invented smithing?"
"I guess this isn't a fair game, huh?"
"No," I laughed, "it's not. Come on, tell me."
"My oldest recorded ancestor was the first Sun Paladin! Seriously, he was born Pre-Emergence!" I recalled asking for the date in Karthos Bend after I received my Necklace of Tongues. The designation of the era was P.E., which began 3,179 years ago. I gathered that P.E. likely meant Post-Emergence.
"So, like, 3,200 years ago? In another age?"
"That's right! Wow, I never would have thought-" A shushing sound startled me from behind. One of the librarians had taken issue with Keff's volume. "Sorry, sorry. Anyway, isn't that something?"
"Definitely. What does it mean for you?"
"I don't know. Inspiration, I hope. Asking him all kinds of questions, maybe." I had never seen excitement like this in Keff. It put me at ease; I was eager to join him.
"If there's anyone that can work this situational metal with craftsmanship, it's you."
"I've got some skill," he mused with a sly, prideful smile. I felt that he had very much earned it.
"Want to get a drink to celebrate?"
"You read my mind. Let's get to it." Our legs were grateful to be stretched after so much sitting. The night air was pleasantly warm in Spring's wake. We located a bustling, high-end pub on the Fourth Ring, and Keff ordered dwarven ale for our celebration. I restrained myself from indulging too much; I wanted to be of sound mind when I met with Betiara. The active atmosphere and Keff's enthusiasm facilitated a jubilant mood. He won several rounds of arm wrestling while I watched and cheered him on, and before departing, I wowed the bartender by using Prestidigitation to clean my glass. Stepping outside granted us a view of the nearly full moon rising over the distant ocean. Upon arriving home, Betiara emerged from our room with her tail wagging. Keff and I recounted our discoveries in the temple. After explaining my errands this morning, Betiara told us what she had accomplished today.
"I met with Padip. He pointed me to someone else in the city that'll run a political editorial under the table!" Keff and I exchanged glances. "I'd be writing it!"
"Oh! That's great, fluffy."
"For sure! Is that safe, though? What if someone catches wind of it?"
"The goal is for everyone to catch wind of it, but it'll be done anonymously, of course. I was hoping to get Toddrick's help in ferrying the pieces discreetly." It sounded like a good idea to me, and Betiara seemed to be very happy with herself. I wrapped her in the biggest hug that I could muster.
"My girlfriend, the anarchist writer... babe, that's so cool."
"Yeah! Our actions are turning the tide, if your encounters are any indication, and my words can back us up. If I can get people's attention before war breaks out, there may be enough call for a peaceful solution." Betiara gave my back a hearty pat. I felt her give Keff a grin, which he likely returned before shuffling off to bed. "I could use something to do during the day, anyway. So, are you ready? You seem sober enough."
"Yeah, I didn't have much. Where are we doing this?"
"There's not enough room for two people in here, not if we want to do it right. Let's go down to the street; we can see the moon from there." I couldn't help but chuckle at Betiara's excitement. It was so difficult to feel anything but safety in her company.
"That sounds nice." My love demonstrated a set of basic forms for me to follow. I immediately noticed that they were meant to create more than flexibility, but awareness of one's body. An odd conflict arose in me; this body was ultimately a disguise, but I hadn't yet embodied an alternative. How worthwhile would it be to become familiar with an illusion? I decided to ignore the simmering, sour emotions welling in my stomach. They returned with a vengeance each time.
"Is something wrong, love?"
"Not with the forms. I like doing this; I'm just thinking about... dragon stuff." Betiara returned to a resting position with grace that only she could display.
"That means it's working. It's making you think about your body, your movements, how they feel and what they accomplish, but... I guess this isn't the right body, is it?"
"No. I mean, it's not the right one, but is this the wrong one?" Our eyes met. Betiara's gaze softened as she looked me over. When she wasn't actively engaged in a focused task, her body signaled what she was feeling very clearly. In stark contrast, I could never tell what she was thinking.
"Is this body a problem?" I remembered those words; she had voiced a similar sentiment when we encountered each other in the Karthos Bend bathhouse.
"In a way. It carries the essence of me. It's a dragon, of sorts, but now that I know I'm something else, it doesn't fit as well as it used to." I sighed as I looked myself over. There wasn't anything wrong with my body, not really... or was I lying to myself? My scales, my horns, my tail, and the elegant length of my draconic face all felt comfortable to me. The rest of my body was more complicated.
"You know," Betiara ventured as gently as she could, "Lilika told me that when something hurts, it usually means that something's wrong. Pain is how our bodies tell us that something needs to be fixed. It can be emotional, too, of course. Maybe this means you're getting closer to figuring it out? Your true self might be just under the surface, which highlights the conflict in your shape." It was an intriguing notion. Lilika and Betiara were the people that would best understand my situation, aside from the king. Fellow dragon or not, I couldn't trust him as far as I could throw him.
"Do you think if I poked at it enough, it would come out on its own?"
"I was thinking the same thing," she replied. "I worry about how that could affect your emotional state. You had a good day today, and I feel like you need that. Risking that positivity, with all the uncertainty happening around us, feels like a decision I can't make in good conscience."
"I can make it. I appreciate your concern, but I figured something out recently: I feel a lot better about things when I have agency over what happens to me. If I make the choice, you don't have to feel bad, and... I think I'm in a place where I can handle my emotions if it goes badly. Honestly, it's hard to feel bad when you're looking at me." An expression of glowing pride appeared on Betiara's face. Her wild, yellow eyes began to glisten with tears, and she offered me a genuine little smile.
"I love you, too." Further words were unnecessary. My discomfort grew as we weaved simultaneous motion, but no wings rose with it. I was at peace with that fact. This didn't work, and neither did my other attempts, which meant that another solution lay in wait. That solution would eventually see a moonlit path or the blazing light of day. For now, however, I reveled in my discomfort. It was merely fuel for the flames of change. Catharsis alighted each tear that I shed, each one symbolizing a victory over my deep-seated dysphoria. This was a choice; even in my suffering, I retained an amount of agency. Betiara and I were growing closer as we failed and succeeded together. The forms I memorized filled me with crystalline calm. We returned home with arms linked, deciding to observe further practice in the evenings. A gentle kiss on the cheek sealed our night together, and we settled in to cap our pleasant evening with sleep.