Story: Chimera: Class of 666
Part: One "Waking Up"
Chapter: Five "The Chimera"
Authored by:
Hannah Nyland (The Irreverent Revenant)
All Rights Reserved.
He
lets that sink in while I take a second to look at my now enchanted boots. They don’t look any different and don’t feel
what I am growing to identify as magical.
Like the amulet, they seem completely the same. Still ordinary. Maybe I just don’t know what to look for.
“Trade
you.” He gestures for me to take my ensorcelled boots. On request, I unclasp the amulet and hand it
back, though with obvious reluctance.
“All
yours.” As I expected, I immediately feel uncomfortable without it, exposed and
on edge. Physical exhaustion is hitting a lot harder now too; the amulet was
probably helping to stave some of that off. I push these discomforts down,
under control, and distract myself by examining my boots. Of course, they feel
exactly as mundane as they did a week ago; all black leather and silver
buckles.
“Nice
to have these back. What did you do with them? Okay, I guess it’s more accurate
to ask what they do now. Cloaking?”
He
points at the boots in my hands. “It has a combination of three cloaking
effects that are always active. They are stronger than the veils provided by
the amulet..." Remembering he still
has it clutched in his left fist Casstiel slips it around his neck and secures
the clasp behind his head. He exhales softly, a slip of relief on his face.
Then
he continues. “While you wear the boots you will appear to be normal with a
slightly subdued version of whatever your emotional state is at the time. So
keep calm if you see something because you could still ping slightly if you’re
fearful in a crowd of calm people. It will also mask your aura, which as a
willworker is prominent, so that anyone with Sights will not think you are
magus unless they spend time studying you. I will explain how mages do that
later.” He pauses and decides to give me
something to work with by way of an explanation.
“Short
version: if you focus on something with your sights and concentrate you can
start delving into deeper and more fundamental layers of meaning like peeling
back the layers of an onion to the strong center. This scrutiny can manifest in any of the five
senses but usually sight most strongly (as humans are sight-based
creatures). You already know how it
feels to be under that concentrated focus when I was looking at you last week. That
feeling like your being watched or stared at.
It is… intrusive. Another mage will know right away if you stare at him
too long but one of these enchantments will dull that feeling when you look at
them but I wouldn’t use focused Sights on anyone not a sleeper just be safe. If
you cast a spell in front of another mage, even if they cannot detect it with
their understanding of magic it may trigger their sixth sense anyway.”
Clearly
the boots are for hiding from detection, and it stands that I should act like a
normal person in order to portray one.
No sights and no spells in front of the uncanny. “Easy enough,” I say.
"Lastly,
if you pull the top strap three times on either boot it will use some imbedded
sympathetic magic to set up a telepathic link across that connection. So now
you don't have to depend on me noticing when you’re in trouble. Activating this spell will expend the magical
reserves of the boots. They should work
about a dozen times before I need to recharge them."
I
nod, no longer relying on the amulet to dissect information before it hits my
memory. It sucks, definitely going to
take some getting used to. I unbuckle
Casstiel’s boots and set them down in the adjacent foyer.
"Try
them on and let’s test the link. This place is in a powerful intersection of
leylines, a well spring of supernal energy. There is enough ambient mana here
that such a trivial spell effect will not expend what is stored in the boots.”
“Mana?”
I ask, slipping on my boots.
“Supernal
energy,” he supplies, “It is rare in the material world. It has to be collected from special places on
earth, something I plan to teach you today.
You have it in your pattern and every spell taxes your reserves. Think of it like exercise and calories, you
start to feel really crappy if you keep pushing it without eating something.”
The
amulet jingles as he tucks it into his shirt and he catches me looking up from
my boots.
"I
know you may be disappointed at losing the amulet and its augmentations. As
your teacher and fellow warlock, I think it is very important that you undergo
hardship, trial, and earn the success of advancement in your studies. You need
to learn to us what you can do and push those limits. For your investigation
you be as safe as possible but also under your own power. It is the way of your path, our path to
further enlightenment.
He
thinks for a moment, tapping his chin and then smiling. "Oh that’s right,
I did add one little augmentation spell that will make your life easier.”
Come
to think of it, with the boots snug and strapped down I feel… stable. More grounded?
“The
boots reinforce the wearer’s pattern so that it can support more spells being
cast on it without becoming overloaded.
With these you should be able to have at least twice as many spells on
yourself before you start buzzing.”
"I
have other gifts to equip you as well,” he continues, “do you have a smart
phone?" He pulls out his cellphone, a Samsung Galaxy S3 and waves it.
“I’ve
got my phone right here.” I take it out from my coat pocket. It’s a Nokia,
exterior scratched and dented, generally looking the worse for wear.
“Alright
cool. Hold that thought till we are
upstairs. First lets test these
puppies.”
My
boots are enchanted now, but they still feel very familiar. I pull on the strap three times. I look over
expectantly, watching for that silver river of light I saw earlier, and the
slight tug of the sympathetic link.
The
same moment I look over I see the silver thread and then a tendril of my own
aura, my consciousness coil around the thread follow it to Casstiel. I can
sense him immediately, at the surface of my mind, an odd feeling for sure. Then
he starts talking in my head.
《Sending
thoughts is pretty intuitive for a warlock so you should get the hang of it
fairly quickly. Using words rather than the jumbled up thoughts, images, and
memories that bubble to the surface when you don’t want them. It takes some getting used to. Just speak
deliberately in your head as if you were typing or talking slowly. Later you
can get very fast with the transmissions. In combat they can be distracting if
teamwork breaks down or highly effective if the team maintains mental
discipline. The spell to set up a link or network is the hard part.》
Casstiel
shrugs his shoulders and rotates his arms to get limber. 《Now, let’s get you in a learning
mode.》
He
starts muttering out loud in what he called the High Speech. It is beautiful and with our minds linked I
can sense his surface thoughts, a vague sort of cloud. I feel his mind order and create a complex
idea, empty of shape, and then I feel the magic come into it. Down that strand
of reddish thought coils between us I see the spell travel and feel it weave
around my head.
“What
did you do?” I blurt out loud,
forgetting to even try to think it at him.
He
smiles placidly and relies. <>
Well
this is different... My brain is suddenly a dry sponge? Thirsty and ready to absorb knowledge? Cool. It feels like… well, I am not sure if I feel
any different. I would be lying if I
said I didn’t appreciate the efficiency of the exchange, though the telepathy
thing is slightly uncomfortable.
Casstiel
ushers me further into the house, down a wood floor hallway that seems to
stretch on way more than it should. After a moment he circles back to the
investigation.
<>
He
smiles, a bit ruefully. <>
I snort at that. Then nod in acknowledgement “Yeah. Saving the
entire town is not very practical on my part. Point taken; I’ll be careful.
It’s hard though, with family at stake. . .”
“I
know.” He says out loud, it comes out
almost as a sigh. The burden of worry,
and responsibility.
I
brighten up as something occurs to me; in my anxiety over the weird things in
Jamestown, I had forgotten to mention this until now. My reply back has a
steady pattern to it, like strokes across a keyboard. I think out my thoughts
slowly. <>
Those
last two sentences had meant to be just for me, just thoughts that slipped
through. He didn’t seem to notice, or if
he did he was nice about it. He grins in
approval.
<> I allow myself to feel
the brief exaltation wash over me.
“Chimera…huh?”
Casstiel speaks my new shadowname into the hallowed space and let it roll off
the walls. An imperceptible rumbling in the air perhaps? He grins and continues
telepathically. <> he nods approvingly.
My
soul resonates with a nightmare realm filled with demons – my personal hell.
Everyone’s personal hell, actually. Not a very pleasant thought, and one that I
brush aside for the moment.
<> He chortles.
<> My eyes dart around the area nervously,
anticipating. <> In my fidgeting, I reach a hand up towards my
throat before realizing that I don’t have the amulet anymore.
“Let’s
ask STARK.” He turns from me and head’s deeper
into the sanctum.
STARK? Definitely not Greek.
We
start mounting equally long stairwells. It is almost as if the house is
allowing the journey and the conversation to be within similar intervals.
Casstiel, of course, is unphased by the trek.
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