Millennial Mage

Tala bent over, her metal pulling away from her exterior as she fell to her knees, her mouth and nose filling with blood.

Some of her iron had been taken, along with an unhealthy amount of power, leaving her feeling wrung dry and incomplete.

Mistress Vanga was by her side in an instant. “Mistress Tala? What’s going on?”

Clear liquid dripped free of Tala as the iron was stripped away to let the remainder fall free.

Master Abali’s voice reached her as she continued to twitch and jerk, barely keeping herself from toppling over, “It looks like either a reaction to a soulbound item losing a part of itself, or to extreme magical deficit. I detected an immense amount of power ripped from her right at the end of the closure. If that drew more from her than she had to give, it could have pulled her body into a magical deficit.”

Tala tried to turn his way and ask what that meant—how badly had she been hurt—but she couldn’t force herself to do so.

Even so, he seemed to notice something in her actions and intuited her question. “In extreme cases, prolonged magical deficits can severely damage the body, requiring a process similar to Refining or Reforging to repair properly.”

Everyone present grimaced, Tala only really seeing the reactions through her mirrored perspectives.

“With regards to causes in this case, I think that the magical deficit is a given—with the amount of magic I felt leaving her—and soul damage is a likely contributor.”

Master Clevnis sat beside Tala, placing a hand on her upper back, rubbing in slow circles even as she continued to feel the repercussions of the cell’s closure. His voice was soft, full of concern with an edge of suppressed discomfort. “Do we need to do anything? Is there anything that we can do?”

Master Abali responded quickly and confidently, “No. She seems to have sufficient power within her, now. Her body is greedily devouring everything that flows in through her gate; though, it seems to be sparing enough to keep her scripts functional. As such, I don’t expect any permanent damage has been done.”

“What could have caused it?” Mistress Cerna interjected, maternal concern lacing her tone.

“Most likely? Something soulbound to her was left within the cell. As I implemented the seal, the bound thing was taken an effectively infinite distance from her. Something unique about that connection required power to maintain, and that requirement grew exponentially until it reached a level she couldn’t maintain, so the connection broke.”

That seemed to answer the most pressing questions for the moment and silence fell.

Tala groaned into the silence before spitting out what seemed to be the last mouthful, working her cheeks and tongue to expel the last vestiges.

She cleared her nose and mirrored the elk leather’s ability to self-cleanse onto her face, watching the remnants fall away.

“That was”—Tala coughed a few times, sitting back—“awful.”

She smiled toward Master Clevnis, and he patted her back comfortingly a couple of times before giving her some space.

Mistress Vanga was not so easily dissuaded, the healer still kneeling beside Tala, “Do you know what happened?”

Tala grunted, pulling a breath and finding herself recovered enough for a reasonable guess, “My bound iron tried to void itself when it was too far from me, but that would have violated the fundamental nullification that Sole had established over his body, so it couldn’t work. I think that it kept trying, drawing more and more power from me as it got further away until the connection finally broke. I think it only would have stopped otherwise if the magics succeeded in banishing the iron into the void.” She shuddered. “I’m just glad that the closed cell was sufficient to break that connection.”

Master Abali smiled. “That is, essentially, the whole point of the cells. If they weren’t magically isolated, they would be rather pointless.”

Tala grunted in agreement.

“Well,” Master Clevnis slapped his bare knees as he stood, mostly stable, “we should be getting back.”

Master Girt nodded in agreement. “Yeah, but should we take a minute to rest and have a drink first? Maybe eat some food?”

Tala shook her head. “Not in here. I don’t want to open that area of my storage within conceptually altered air.”

“To the surface!” The Refined grinned as everyone looked his way. “What? The food’s really good.”

Master Limmestare huffed a laugh. “He’s not wrong.” Some of the levity left his face as he focused on Tala. “Are you truly going to be alright, Mistress?”

Tala took a moment to sweep her senses through her body, trusting Alat to look carefully at what she found as well. Finally, she nodded, “I think so. I’m not feeling or finding anything too concerning.”

Her gate was feeling a little raw, but that just made sense.

A few minutes later, the atrium of the cell was resealed, and the unit was back above ground.

Master Grit resealed the deep shaft, mainly to keep anyone or anything from falling in by accident. As he did, he was muttering something rhythmically under his breath, which Tala only partially caught.

‘We do not fear what lies beneath?’

-Who knows. Everyone has their own mental models.-

I suppose.

There, back in the light of the sun, Tala pulled out their next meal, still hot and ready from Mistress Petra.

Tala was still far from fully recovered, but she didn’t need to be for them to return to Alefast.

Master Clevnis was rather weakened as well, and both he and Mistress Cerna seemed keen on moving back toward the city.

Mistress Vanga had done an excellent job, to the point that his new legs would be fully integrated and accepted with little issue.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t no issue.

Even a perfect healing done by someone else’s magic was never quite right. For mundanes—and even most Mages—it rarely mattered, but for Refined and those even more advanced, it could be problematic.

That was actually one reason that basically all Mages added at least some self-healing inscriptions as they advanced. The Refining scripts that moved Fused through the advancement were effectively that, and it was Master Clevnis’s Refining scripts that would complete the alignment between his new legs and the rest of his body.

Regardless, they pulled out their combined flying contraption and got underway, back toward Alefast.

They used the trip to go over the mission, discussing what had gone right as well as what could have gone better.

Master Clevnis was appropriately impressed by Sole’s sword when Tala handed it over for his examination. He happily promised to do an in-depth study of the weapon before returning it to her in a few days.

Mistress Cerna made that a couple of weeks, lovingly chastising her husband for taking on a project with a tight timeline when so recently wounded.

He grudgingly agreed before giving his wife a kiss on the cheek and turning his full attention back to the sword.

Tala suspected that Mistress Cerna had intervened as much to give her husband more time as to keep the timeline reasonable, but that was alright with her.

Tala had some ideas on what she could use the sword for, but they were all tentative for the moment.

When the unit returned to the waning city, Tala and Master Clevnis were required to report to specialized healers.

After half an hour, during which the rest of the unit waited for the results, Master Clevnis was given a solid report. The healer who examined the repairs commended Mistress Vanga for her excellent work, stating that even if it had been done under ideal circumstances, he couldn’t imagine a better healing being performed.

The healer who examined Tala afterwards got rather grumpy with her. “You know you aren’t supposed to be stretching and tearing off bits of your soul, right?”

“Yes? I feel like you’re saying that for a reason.”

Master Selek shook his head. “You have four bits of your soul flitting about your head right now.”

“My bloodstars?”

“Yes, each of those effectively pulls at your soul, stretching and drawing it outward into a connection. These are weak enough that you aren’t really straining your soul, but it leaves you more vulnerable to the potential for weakness.”

“Stretched and flexible?”

“In some ways, yes, but also stretched thin, not well reinforced. I’m not telling you to try to undo what you’ve done, but you might want to do some soul strengthening work.”

“I thought I was?”

“Hmm… I suppose I did use vague language. I mean strengthening in the sense of adding reinforcement to a wall, not building muscle. You seem to be rather set on a path of pulling and prodding your soul into doing all sorts of things most people can’t. When was the last time you did anything to ensure its integrity?”

Tala was at a loss for words. She had never really considered that.

“The answer is plain. Once you’ve rested for a couple of days, come back and talk to me. We’ll discuss some easy things you can do to add resilience to your self.”

In the end, though they got very different diagnoses, both Tala and Master Clevnis were put on mandatory leave for two days.

At that time, he would be allowed back on duty, but Tala would have to be reexamined. In the best case, she’d be given the resiliency tasks and allowed back to work as well.

In the worst case?

She might be kept from her role for a few weeks, if not longer.

Rest is good, Tala, it won’t hurt you any.

-Yeah, think of all the books we’ve been wanting to read.-

In the end while the mandated time away from her tasks and regular training was a bit annoying, Tala had to admit that she was grateful for the rest.

She’d been keeping a rather frenetic pace over the last weeks and a few days truly off would be a blessing.

I need to consider when I want to go exploring, too.

There were quite a few things that she wanted to do, from exploring a recent city ruin to returning to the moving villages.

Howlton did seem like an interesting place to spend some time. But not yet. Maybe in another year or so.

For now, Tala had been negligent in connecting with some old acquaintances.

Toward that end, on the first day of her mandated break, Tala found herself standing outside a small artifact shop, located near the north entrance of Alefast.

Little shop of wonders indeed.

It looked smaller to her eye now, which was a bit silly because she hadn’t grown any larger, physically.

Still, even from outside, she could feel the uncounted magics of the various objects held within.

Let’s see what Artia, Adrill, and Brandon are up to.

The woman, herself, was sitting outside, behind her stall, soliciting business from the passersby.

Honestly, Tala was a bit surprised that they hadn’t started moving toward departing the city, given Artia’s dislike of Mages and the odd waning causing such an increase of the same.

Though, a large part of that dislike was from her association with the Culinary Guild and that guild’s precepts. Those have all changed, now.

The matron’s eyes passed over Tala, then jerked back. “Mistress Tala!”

The woman stood in a rush, catching up Tala in a surprise hug. She tried to lift Tala up, but only grunted, Tala’s feet staying firmly planted on the ground.

“Wow, girl. You’ve put on weight. You must be eating well?”

Tala smiled, giving a quick hug in return. “I have gained weight, in several manners of speaking, and I am eating very well, thank you. How are you? Adrill? Brandon?”

“Oh, they are splendid. We all are, really. Adrill still enjoys his experiments, and he’s been able to make some headway with the local Constructionist Guild, or at least one of their Mages. He used your endingberries to run some… questionable experiments.” The older woman gave Tala a narrow-eyed look before smiling, “Still, it ended well, so I can’t be too irate with you.”

Tala’s smile turned sheepish, and Artia laughed.

“He learned some interesting things, apparently. They were enough that the Mage took him seriously, once he got an audience. Brandon is doing… alright. With more and more Mages in the city, he feels a bit more out of place than he ever has before. Honestly, I’m uncertain if he’ll stick around. I promise you that he’d already be gone, but he’s had a girl catch his eye, and she seems to return his interest.”

“Mom!” Brandon himself came out from the shop, seemingly having caught the end of his mother’s words. “Why are you telling people that?”

Only then did Brandon take in Tala, herself. He tilted his head to the side for an instant before his eyes widened.

“Oh! Hello, Mistress Tala.”

“Hello, Brandon.”

The young man smiled her way. “Welcome back! Why haven’t you dropped by sooner?”

Artia turned to her son, eyes widening. “Brandon! You can’t ask someone that.”

He shrugged. “What? We saw the record of her fight outside the city from weeks ago.”

Tala scratched the back of her head. “You aren’t wrong. I’ve been busy, but that’s just an excuse. I’m sorry for not dropping by sooner.”

Artia turned to her, a genuine smile across her features. “Well, you’re here now. Come in! Are you in need of anything we might have?”

“I’m happy to have a look, yeah. Mainly, however, I just wanted to check in. I’ll be in Alefast through the waning, at least for the most part. I will be busy, but more than a decade is a long time.”

The two mundanes nodded in agreement.

Tala gave Brandon a mischievous smile, “So, who is this girl?”

Brandon colored, shooting a grimace toward his mom, before returning his gaze to Tala. “She’s the youngest daughter of a local farming family. Apparently, they make their living in the grow caverns, so they won’t be leaving any time soon.”

“So, you want to stick around?”

“I think so.” He glanced away, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Does she know about…” Tala gestured toward Brandon, thinking to ask about his lack of a gate, then she stopped and put her hand over her face. “I’m… I apologize. That wasn’t something that I should—”

Brandon shrugged, waving her off. “No, it’s fine. She knows. It’s actually how we met. There’s a few of us gateless in the city, and I’ve been meeting up with a group of them… us. She’s the only one in her family, so she’s found a lot of comradery with us.”

Tala’s smile turned more genuine, happy for his graciousness and his good fortune, “And with you in particular, eh?”

He smiled. “Yeah, so it seems.”

She hadn’t really considered there being social groups for gateless, but it made sense.

They were effectively outsiders, even if most people didn’t use their gates on a day to day basis.

Tala considered for a moment. “Brandon?”

“Yeah?”

“Are any of those in your group builders?”

He frowned, considering. “I think so? ‘Builder’ isn’t really very specific, though. We’re from all trades, really. It’s not like one line of work leads to the condition.”

“Brandon!” His mom interjected. “It isn’t a condition. It’s just a small part of how you were born, and we wouldn’t change you for the world.”

“It’s fine, mom. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He regarded Tala critically for a moment. “Why do you ask?”

Tala felt a grin stretch across her face. “I think I just might have some work for gateless builders.”

-Oh, that’s a good idea. The Zuccat’s are living pretty rough in what you all were able to throw together.-

Hey, I’m proud of what we were able to build.

-You’re right; it’s very nice, given your restrictions.-

Fine…

-You are literally trying to find people to improve it. Why is it insulting for me to comment on the need for improvement?-

Tala honestly didn’t have an answer to that. So, instead, she reengaged with the merchants.

Brandon was still frowning from her answer, “What use would you have for gateless, particularly?”

“Well, I need some construction completed within my dimensional storage. So, builders with gates are… less than convenient.”

Brandon nodded. He should have a fundamental understanding of that issue, given he often worked with his father. “I can see the benefit, there, yeah.”

Tala continued, feeling the need for a bit more explanation, “I have some things in place, but the most recent structure was only completed to the most basic standards. I would love to improve what’s there as well as add some more infrastructure.”

The young man frowned. “In a dimensional storage?”

“Yup.” Tala felt herself grin. “Is your dad available? I think you’d all enjoy seeing what’s become of the pouch you sold me.” She patted Kit, hanging at her hip and drawing their gaze to the pouch.

Artia nodded, “That does sound interesting, but I think I still need to mind the shop.”

“Of course.” Right… That makes sense.

Brandon smiled. “I’ll go get dad. He always loves to learn whatever he can.”

Tala looked to Artia as Brandon went to get his dad. “I’d love to look at your wares after we’re done.”

The older woman smiled. “Customers are always welcome.”

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