[Mage 2: The Dethroned Queen] Light: Daedalus

Out of Character (OOC):

Chronicle: Mage 2: The Dethroned Queen

Venue: Mage: The Awakening 2nd Edition

Chronicle Storyteller: Jerad Sayler

Assistant Storytellers: Hannah Nyland & Alex Van Belkum

            Light's Epitaph: Daedalus

The following is a short journal entry from a Daimonoptikon recovered by the Sacred Realms cabal and found in a Scelesti lab located in a sub-basement of the Denver Museum of Nature & Science where Light was trapped in 2014.  Written by David Ledbetter (Light) and edited by Jerad Sayler.  This story features Light's meeting of his mentor Daedalus, his first exposure to the Nemesis Continuum and the creation of his Legacy by defeating it. 

In which our hero is studying…

Or more precisely killing time in my favorite place. The library at the illustrious Idaho State University is three stories tall and comprehensive enough to get by. I spend a lot of time here. I am going through the library in the limericks section. ‘There once was a man from Nantucket’ being the least of them. I try to read new things every now and then just to expand my mind.

After uncovering a few poetic finds, my wandering fingers take me down a less trod corridor. Old and outdated school text books, teaching aid books, and miscellaneous Academia which do not look like they have been used for the better part of twenty years line the high shelves and out of sheer habit or curiosity and raise my hands the extra inches to run them across the bottom, reading titles so fast they reconstruct into a high resolution picture in my head.

My running finger tips catch on a stiff piece of paper jutting out from an Advanced Calculus book, the thick folding wad of papers plummets softly to the ground just behind me. I pause and look back at it. It appears completely normal. I do not touch it, instead crouching by it and opening my Supernal sight. I do not see anything unusual about it and after a few seconds I pick it up and take it to a cubby nearby. I open it and start to read.

It is a series of mathematical proofs and axioms. I flip through the folded pages, one inside the other like unfolding a plain white flower covered in graphite scribbles, letting my buzzing minds make pictures of the pages. I start at the first and begin reading. It actually takes me a few seconds to figure out the first proof. But this cannot be right, the proof is utterly incorrect and even laughable. This is either the hand of some mistaken amateur or some kind of classroom game, perhaps something funny the teacher was doodling. But there is too much effort here; I study this proof more closely. Actually.. this proof could be true, no, is true, but it can’t be. But then that would mean… the next proof builds on this last the mis-logic founded by the first almost laughable proof forms into an impossible and yet undeniable law of sorts for the rest of the page. I read faster, my minds keeping pace, checking mistakes, inconsistencies, more logic that makes no sense. Now we can divide by zero…

I start to understand all these and even as I look away from the page which for some reason is stinging my eyes my brain with its magically induced multi-threaded processes continue to crunch away at the proofs to their closing and inevitable conclusion. My stomach feels knotted all of a sudden; my skin feels like the dust light filtering in from the small windows is burning cold. I set the pages down, they rustle like insect wings as they land. This is wrong. These proofs, this logic is hurting me somehow. It’s insane and yet it makes a horrible kind of sense. I close my eyes briefly, pushing the images out of my surface mind and realize the rest of them, my supernal memory, already has this heretical math stored in my memory…

The understanding is sinking into me. I gag and move quickly down the hall, bent over to the bathroom, grabbing the papers even in my haste. The colors around me are too vibrant. I reach to open the bathroom door and the handle, which looks perfectly smooth brass but feels like sandpaper on my skin. I flinch and keep moving. In my minds the pages whisper greater and greater computational lies which inevitably lead to applications in one terrifying thing – anti-physics. I make it to the toilet. I gag again and as I begin to throw up the water pushes upward and runs down my throat. It feels like throwing up but in reverse. I choke then throw up, filling the empty toilet bowl. Inside my own head I am frantically separating and segregating the knowledge as it comes but it is too slow, the isolation chambers I am making are filling up slightly faster than I can make them. Why can I not stop myself from thinking about this? Why won’t the logical part of my consciousness just drop it! I try to form imagos, force my will into them but the spells are marginally successful and a little too late. The bathroom feels off somehow. My unseen senses are tingling, adding to my nausea. Is something happening around me? I have to get this contained.

I stagger to the bathroom door and lock it. I pull a pen from my pocket and begin to sketch on the ground. As I do the light in the room starts to flicker. Morse code, the detached part of me notes. Nothing that makes sense, random letters and numbers. I draw two circles across from each other, connected by a line in the middle. I write the letters I use to multitask in one circle and a symbol for me in the center, then move to the other circle and write the multitask rune and begin writing the proofs and the knowledge pouring into me. I draw another circle around the second one and write words of containment and warding, including prime containment. I build the much larger and more complicated thaumaturgical spell in my mind, coldly and analytically watching as shadows from things that are not here dance across the walls in the flickering light. My other minds, which seem so alien to me now are still chugging away at this mental poison.


I do not rush but I am not taking my time. I pour my will into the spell, setting it up so it will last perpetually, as permanent as I can design it and begin to chant the connection in the High Speech. I feel the second mind become active and aware again and I start pushing on top of its gut wrenching knowledge all I still remember and have come to understand erasing as I go. The sensation of flipping between two separate consciousnesses is jarring, but I am used to it. The feeling of sickness and antithesis is new. I ram all the knowledge into my second mind and draw a cross in the connecting line between the circles, symbolizing my cutting the conscious connection to the knowledge and creating a wall between it and the outside world.

I feel the me that is contaminated on the other side of the wards in my mind; it is like watching a person through a one way glass. I see him, he does not see me. The infected me clutches his head and screams. He begins to write on the walls of his imaginary cell. I cut the connection so I can’t see in. I look around my physical surroundings again. The bathroom has returned to normal and the shadows have gone. I turn on my Supernal sight and look around. Under one of the sinks a small skinned head peeks out. I kick it, hard and fast. It yelps and then crunches into paste, then disappears. I pour some water in the sink and check to be sure nothing escaped the room.

It looks like I contained it in time. I reach over to the paper towels and wet one, then wipe up the mess on the ground, very thoroughly cleaning up any sign I was here after repeatedly smearing and smudging the designs around. Erasing these does not end the spell, it is already made manifest and within the pattern of my neurons. I have already been in here for a while, how long I am not sure anymore. I am finishing up when the door handle jiggles. I hear a guy ask if everything is all right. I throw the rest of the mess away and open the door. “You do not want to go in there.” I say and walk out, folded papers in hand.

XXXXX

In which our hero searches for guidance…

I know I need to literally clear my mind, completely sanitize this knowledge. Luck I am in a library, I suppose. I go to the cubby and open the Book. In its golden pages I search for what feels like minutes but when I look at the clock has been hours. I find a section on Goetics, the control of inner demons within the subconscious mind, and think that might help. Seraph had given me the number to a Silver Ladder mage named Septimus, who I had lunch with a few times. I am fairly sure he has come to the conclusion I am not for their Order, but he is still making his best face forward.

I call him up. I dance around for a while before I ask him if he knows anyone, trying to be as vague as possible over the phone while still getting my need across. He is a bit confused at first before I tell him I am doing a project in one of my anthropology classes and need an interview. I thought I would see if I could mix my mundane and weird a bit and find out more about it. Initially he thinks this is a terrible idea but I wax eloquently on the importance of wisdom and understanding. I flatter him shamelessly and eventually get told that I am in luck, there is an Adamantine Arrow Goetics master in the area. Unfortunately he lives secluded up in the Sierra Nevada mountain range, about an hour forty five minutes’ drive and then a solid ten mile hike from civilization. That is the easy part, I think. I thank him for his time and promise him lunch again soon. I then call my wife and tell her I am getting called away to deal with an emergency. She doesn’t ask questions, being used to my work asking me for craziness, and I am on my way.

The drive to the mountains is quiet, and the papers sit beside me in the seat, folded blessedly closed so I cannot see. The only knowledge I retain of their contents are that they are Abyssal in nature, that I have become infected by the taint of their knowledge, and that I have contained them within a separate mind contained (for now) in my head. An innocuous Abyssal meme that was wedged in a college textbook, if left there it could have caused no end of trouble. In my head may end up being as bad. I feel the prisoner of my other mental process, the one with the madness scratching hateful laws of the world gone insane on the walls of his cell. I don’t look at them, the walls are opaque, but I can feel him there. I can feel the writing burning black. Divide by zero, I think and shudder inside.

I watch the mountains grow large in my windshield; I am trying hard not to think about the trip to the mountains of Mordor as I drive, why does it feel that way? I reach the hiking trail around three in the afternoon and set out. I have the axioms folded in my backpack. I check the knife at my side and set out. I run at a pretty good clip down the trail.

I can tell when I am nearing the area claimed by Daedelus, the Arrow I was told about. The woods are larger and there is a mountain directly in front of me. The trees here are covered in faint sigils which can be seen with my sights. I am betting he will know I am coming. I walk up to one and study it. Wards, alarms. The spell is woven of many separate Arcana neatly patterned into one. I sense the familiar Space for area of effect, for warning, I feel Mind to tie it back to the master, these first two the bread and butter of a Mastigos. It also has some Life and Fate effects I do not immediately understand. Keys and triggers perhaps? I gently reach over and tap it; softly exerting my will and weaving my own image of space and mind, a polite knock through the web-like sympathy of the wards. A friendly greeting, a polite knock on his door. I hear a cough behind me and turn.

How to describe Daedalus? He was a huge Caucasian man. Most of his bulk was gone by the time I met him. Age had robbed him of his youthful size and vigor, but he still towered over me. He had the clearest blue eyes of anyone I have met and his hair was white and short. He was wearing a plaid shirt and blue jeans with a leather apron covering them He carried a sledge hammer over his shoulder and first looked at me like a piece of iron he is considering hewing down.

“Well?” He asks.

Sensing this man values brevity I say, “I have been infected with an inner taint. I wish to be rid of it. I have contained it for now but I need help.”

“How did you find me?” he asks.

“I asked a man named Septimus.” I say.

He nods his head. “Still sending you new Warlocks my way. I am retired from the soldier business, you know.”

I guess I had not fooled Septimus as well as I thought. I hoped he was getting good mileage from whatever favors he is owed for this. I mentally upgrade the lunch I was planning to feed him. “I do not know about any of that. I need to destroy this document and gain mastery over what is in my head.”

“Why not destroy it? What is in your head.” He asks.

“Because I could gain power over it and use it.” I answer.

He chuckles then barks a short laugh. “Fair enough. But first…” He snatches the papers from my hand and it lights on fire. I look askance at him and he smiles a sad knowing smile. “I have felt enough temptation to know to avoid it when I can. If you had left it here I might have read it. Knowledge is addicting, even tainted knowledge. So you want a big favor.”

“Yes. I need this out of my mind.” I say.

He grins and starts walking further in, towards the mountain. I follow. We reach a cabin in the woods at the foot of the mountain a few minutes later. It should have taken far longer, my senses tell me; space was compressed for our benefit.

The cabin is surrounded by giant mechanical contraptions. To the left of the door, there is an egg shaped golden thing covered in what looks like burn marks, the hollow inside man shaped. The gold stuff that comprises it is Orichalcum, the same stuff my Astral book is made from. Some of the shell has melted. From what I know, I shudder to think what could melt a supernal metal. I actually shudder too. To the right of the cabin, there is what looks to be a 15 foot tall Mech from an Anime cartoon, but solid and gleaming silver. Its hands are covered in dried blood and it stinks of copper and ozone. There is even the head of what looks to be some sort of large undersea lizard, its white metal bones bleaching further in the sun. I did not know such creatures even exist on the moral plane. I raise an incredulous eyebrow at these things; if a sleeper ever got this far past the wards they could disbelieve all these miracles in a matter of minutes. Above the cabin door is a feather, each tine made of a different metal. As I pass beneath it he looks up at it. I follow his gaze. Some of the tines have gotten shorter, some longer. He nods, and keeps walking. No words exchanged, I note and mimic is quiet reserve with my own.

We enter the cabin. It is bigger on the inside than it should be, and decorated with even more wonders. I drop my Spacial Sights that have been ringing since I passed the sigil tree line. On either side of the door a jade statue of a samurai warrior is posed, holding their katanas above our heads. I slip my shoes off and set them to the side of the door, following Japanese custom. He nods and beckons me to a table. We sit on the floor in front of the short table on our knees on the customary pads.

“Here’s the deal, hero.” He starts ironically. “That thing in your head is a killing word. It is not natural to existence and will corrupt anything if not destroyed utterly. You cannot master it without becoming its slave. I have seen men try and die. I will take that bit of black flotsam from your mind for three days. In its current state it cannot be destroyed completely, it has set its roots too far into your gray matter. During those three days I will be working to make it fully manifest in reality by giving it a brain to take and a body to spread into. Given the choice the Abyss spread into what it can. This string of laws exerts itself by being known, I have seen it before. I will give it a Geotic demon in flesh to think upon, allowing itself to be taken and made real, I will take your contained thoughts and given them a full mind to blossom in. Then you can destroy it and gain power over the wounds and scars it has left in your psyche by learning to unmake the mind. But in return I am giving you three tasks. Three, count ‘em three favors you owe me. One each day. And you must complete each by the end of the day. Got it?”

To be fair, I do mull it over in my head for a few moments before agreeing. “I will not harm an innocent, I will not act against my families interests and I will not serve the Abyss. I retain the right to deny a favor if I feel it will do any of these things.”

“Lawyer are you? Fair enough. Agreed.”

I hold out my hand to shake. He takes it and I feel the spell reach into me. I feel his power and I do not resist. In the back of my mind I feel the cocoon that has been holding my other set of thoughts slide away from me. I feel much better.

“And your first trial is this: my granddaughter is working at ISU and has not come to visit in a long while. I want to see her but can’t leave here right now. Go get her.” He says.

I asked her name and where I can find her. Blankly he just points to a picture hanging on a wall and then chuckles again to him. I look at her sitting by him and then start. I recognize her. She was in my ward in church; we had dated for a little while before I met my wife. I shrug, always with the ex-girlfriends, and tap the picture gently, creating a sympathetic connection for me to follow. I compare it to my old connection. They are the same person, I confirm. This thread is stronger. I head for the door, grimly heading back down the mountain to my transportation. This all can not be a coincidence…

XXXXX

In which our hero bags a princess…

I hope... I roll up to the house where Carranna is living and knock on the door. Her husband, Ryan, answers. I tell him hello and ask to see her. She comes to the door.

“Hi.” I say.

“Hi. What’s up?” Carranna looks at me, confused by my sudden appearance in her doorway. We ended on cordial terms, she is still a friend. I tell her I talked to her grandfather and she looks concerned. “What does grandpa want? We argue a lot.” She adds at the end.

“He looked worried about you. He told me to come see if you will visit him.” I say. I am really tempted to give her a little mental push to come with me with no questions. Daedalus might not approve. These tasks do not feel like favors, they feel like trials. Trials to the mastery he spoke of? No, she is a friend and an innocent. I refrain from magical coercion.

“I am not sure that is a good idea, Dave.”

“I know it is a pain, you don’t always get along. I feel your pain sometimes, believe me. But he is your Grandfather and he really would like to see you. How about this, I will drive you up; if you decide you want to leave I will immediately drive you back. Fair?” From my trek I am pretty sure there is no road to get up those last ten miles of forest but I assume Grandpa must have some sort of mundane locale. I resolve to figure that part out once we get there.

“I don’t know Dave, if he is so worried about me why doesn’t he just come himself? I didn’t even knew each other, let alone talked.”

I take a chance. “You know why he can’t come himself. And I think he might be a little embarrassed. You know how he is. We met when you and I were together, we kept up with email. He was always giving me good advice and I felt like I owed him a favor. So when he said how much he wanted to see you again I decided to stop by.” It sounded good to my ears. Enhanced mental capacity through pulling down universal knowledge has to be good for something after all. Empathy is still my problem.

She hems and haws but I lay on the guilt trip and eventually she agrees after throwing in dinner. By the end I am not sure if she really wants to see her relative alone or wants to spend time with me. I am glad I did not have to use magic on her, but it took entirely too long. Ryan wanted to come with and I allow it, not knowing if that is really okay but having no conditions to the contrary. We get in the car and start to drive.

                                                                       XXXXX

In which our hero stops for deer…

Funny thing about Idaho, there are deer everywhere. We are about half an hour out from the hike when a herd trots in front of the car. I have more than enough time to slow down and gradually come to a stop about ten feet away from the migration. One of those Idaho deer is stopped in the dead center of the road. Before I can lay on the horn something huge slams into the side of the car, breaking glass and crunching metal. I react almost without thinking, turning and pulling the knife while placing my body between myself and Carranna. Ryan screams and huddles in the backseat as the car rocks off its wheels.

There is a large grizzly bear outside my door, up on its hind legs. Despite the adrenaline, I quickly cast a Mind unveiling spell, muttering quickly under my breath as the bear roars, to ascertain what is wrong with it. It thinks my car is a predator in its territory. I cast again, working my knife in the air. Carranna doesn’t notice. With my next spell I gently edge down its aggressiveness. As I do I notice the faint lines of another spell. Curiouser and curiouser. The bear backs off and heads back to the woods before I can study this masked spell further. I ensure everyone is ok and after my passengers have settled I get out and wipe the glass from my pants. Then we keep driving. The deer are long gone. I am relieved they don’t ask to turn around; normal people seem to scream and cry a lot, maybe it didn’t even occur to them to go back. We keep driving, listening to the wind through the shattered driver-side window. My right side mirror is smashed and dangles down, rocking like a pendulum. Would Daedalus test me by trying to attack us? I wonder.

                                                                       XXXXX

In which we visit grandmother’s house…

We come to the hike and there in front of us is a little cottage and a graveldriveway to a two-car garage. I park in the driveway that should not be there. Gone are the egg, the mech and the fish, gone are the other contraptions and the feather. It is a perfectly pleasant mundane little house in the woods. Camouflage and veils, in other words. I shake my head, a little impressed. The Warlock used Space to move his home as he pleased, maybe he has two places, and maybe it is one home co-located on many levels. We walk up to the door and Carranna smiles.

“This was one of my favorite places as a child. My mother would bring me here to visit and Grandma would always have coolies. Grandfather would be out back making something on the forge.” She smiles wistfully. “He seemed smaller after she died.” Smaller? I think, incredulously.

I hear the tinkling sound of metal on metal in the back of the cottage and smile. “Well, not everything has changed. Come on.” We walk around the house to the forge, where her grandfather is putting the finishing touches on a piece of metalwork. He looks up and smiles at Carranna and puts it down.

“Look at you all grown up!” He steps around and hugs her, a big bear hug in which he leans down instead of picking her up off the ground. Then sees Ryan. “And you brought your lay-about friend. How nice.”

Her face closes off. “Grandpa, this is my husband and if you can’t be nice then I will leave.” Her face is scrunched up like something sour was put in her mouth.

“I would be nice if there was something to be nice-”He begins.

“If I might interrupt.” I interject. “Sir, I realize you may not always like your family but if you want a solid relationship with your granddaughter it might behoove you to have at least respectful terms with her husband. Perhaps if you took the time to get to know him it might change your opinion a little.” It seems a little sad that I need to point this out to another Mind Mage but perhaps family truly blinds.

He looks almost shocked at my boldness and then laughs. “Perhaps. Well said. I think you should all come inside and stay the night, it is getting late. Ryan, maybe we can talk for a bit.” He gestures at the house from his outdoor forge and in we go.

The inside seems so small and bare now. I resist the urge to call my wife and set up for a short rest. The night is uneventful, Daedalus spends some time with both of them while I observe. In the morning I drive Carranna and Ryan back to their house, feeling like a courier. Carranna is bubbling and happy about how well it went. I drop them off and then go back to the cottage. I have to trek the ten miles again and the stuff is back on the lawn. Daedalus meets me and says, “Well done.”

“You too. I especially liked the bear.” I say dryly. He laughs. “What was the point of that?”

He doesn’t answer, only continues, all business. “I thought you might. Now… task number two for you. In yon mountain is a cave; at the bottom of the cave is some raw liquid mercury that has never seen daylight.” He hands me a covered bucket and some gloves. “Fetch. Don’t let any light touch it or the whole batch is ruined”

                                                                          XXXXX

In which our hero goes spelunking…

Have you ever been in a cave system before? They are dark and deep quiet, the kind of silence and darkness few people can experience. I went to the car and got a few flashlights. I cast my spacial awareness and set off into the cave. As I go I can feel every inch and contour of the rocks with my sight. Like fingers brushing over the air and echolocation combined I navigate down, down, down into the depths.

This used to be a mercury mine, I reason. I can tell by the old wooden props on the walls and the divuts from picks which feel like sharp point in space. I come to a shaft that plunges straight down… deep under the earth. I hang my flashlight on my body with its cord and I draw a circle on my chest with a marker. I chant in the High Speech, opening my channel to Pandemonium. I draw the runes for strength of body and knowledge of climbing, combing both Life and Mind spells to bolster my abilities. I dip my mind like a well bucket into the universal subconscious and bring forward all the knowledge of rock climbing I can. I feel my muscles get larger and leaner, focused on the hands, feet, calves, and arms. I climb to the bottom and then down another, gripping the crevices of the sides of the rock with my fingertips and crude shoes. It takes all the knowledge of climbing I have garnered not to fall for it is steep. My will is strong but my fingers are burning with soreness from lack of practice. I go down to where the caves are natural, deeper than the miners delved and all is dark and quiet. It becomes easier to rely on mage sight here, the natural formations make sense and magic is stronger. Perhaps there is a deep Hallow here. I turn off my flashlight and continue down. I squeeze through a particularly tight tunnel less than 10 inches wide and walk into a large cavern no longer having to slouch against the ceiling, around the walls liquid silver is flowing, forming pools that fall gently into other pools. In the center of the cavern is a large waterfall of liquid mercury, spilling down to the floor and then pooling. I take a minute to take it all in. All so silent, the flowing liquid metal makes no sound.

This place is a Hallow for sure, as I scrutinize the darkness with Supernal Sight, the sight of all magical understanding, I can see the spells in place which pull the Hallow and leylines associated back to the cottage of Daedalus’s Sanctum. This is a seat of his mana supply by using his understanding of Prime and Space. Is there any Arcana this mage doesn’t have?

My golden book once told me of the story of Atlantis. Before they found the island, man were drawn to sleep in caves, in the dark special places where the dragon dreams could lead mankind to the promised land. You could believe that they could dream in a special place like this. So powerful, so quiet, so dark and free of distractions… sensory deprivation. Just then my own senses detect something odd. There wasn’t a mass there before, its contours are strange.

I feel as wrongness in the cavern spaces it before I fully perceive it. I set the bucket down on a flat piece of rock and turn. There behind me, straight out of the “Fellowship of the Ring” is a cave troll.

Peter Jackson, Daedalus, or whoever invented this monster, did it justice, I think. A mystical creature, a cryptid, most likely created by Life magic. But the movie never conveyed the immediacy of its size and bulk. It’s big. I drop down to my feet. The thing’s club of what feels like petrified wood swishes over my head at about torso height for where I was standing a moment before. I slide my knife out of it sheath and dart between its legs, slashing across both the thing’s tough thick hamstrings. The first leg it cuts right through, the second cut barely scratches the tough hide.

The troll bellows and falls to one knee, attempting to smash me as it does. I roll to the side, feeling the area on black space sense alone and its club clips my shoulder. My inner HUD goes yellow in that area from the pain sensors, heavily bruised but not broken.

I roll to my feet and back away against a further wall of rock. The troll swings its club laterally at me. I drop again, and step towards its hamstrung side, its weak side, hoping to force it to accidentally put weight on its injury. It whips the club around, trying and brain me. One good hit with that club would crush me like a bug. Again, I dodge and step closer to it.

I remember the flashlight in my off-hand; I have been relying on mage sight for the most part and instinct for the rest. I close my useless eyes and turn on the flashlight right in the troll’s face. It screams and holds its ham-sized hands to its eyes, bringing its club up as well. I risked the integrity of the mercury for this one surprise shot.

I dart in while it is stunned, reaching up to lay my hands on its head. The spell creating this being is still active, not released, it took this short fight to see it. I force all my will and effort into a new imago. Life and what holds this thing together I target the pattern and the magic that fills it. I break down the Life spell keeping this creature going, the spell that called it into existence from nothing, I dispel what holds something inside. The troll shrinks and falls to the floor, a small geko. The club crunches to the ground inches away from it.

Threat neutralized. I walk around the cavern. I memorize every inch of it, feeling the way it glows with power. I take the bucket to a waterfall of mercury and carefully fill it, then close the cover. I sit for a moment and meditate amid this beauty, perhaps like the cavemen of pre-Atlantean glory. I consider teleporting back then decide I would rather climb. Too many risk factors, I calculate coldly. The magic could interfere with the teleportation, Daedalus’s Sanctum may not allow me to traverse the Space Ban he has in place.

                                                                          XXXXX

In the which our hero gets a good night sleep…



No really, that is all that happened. I returned without difficulty or incident. The way up the deep drops was easier than trying to climb down them. When I returned, Daedalus just nodded in his oblique way, took the bucket, and sent me to bed in the early hours of the night. I slept in his Sanctum, the accommodations were more than acceptable. Good thing too, I was whipped. Oh, he did say he knew the troll was over the top but he couldn’t resist. He thought the Balrog would have been a bit much (also requiring perhaps more understanding of Forces than he possessed). He apparently just loves those movies. In his playground of the forest in the foot of the mountains he has been allowed to live his favorite fantasies.

                                                                            XXXXX 

In the which you are tired of reading in the which.

Day three. Judgment day. Nah just kidding. It wasn’t so bad really. He gave me my third task, his third favor. I am to walk into the labyrinth under the house and find my way to the center. This isn’t a favor, this is a test, a game for him. I can only guess at what he really wants. I ask him for a ball of yarn and he laughs and tells me it won’t work here. He also says my special awareness will not help. I go to the cellar with him and he opens the door. I step through. The Labyrinth is huge and made from Mind and Space alone. When did I cross over? Is my body still standing by the door staring into space? Powerful magic. The mental walls shift, the floors are never the same. I do not follow a pattern because there is no point in a maze that constantly moves. I walk for hours and it gets more chaotic. I stop and it slows. I buy a clue. I sit down on the floor and center myself. The walls stop, the floors stop. I breathe in and out. I feel my breath. The center comes to me, for I am the center. Space is an illusion, all things exist in a singularity. I open my eyes and I am in a circular room. In the center of the room is Daedalus, wearing blue jeans and looking pleased.

“I lose more Magi in the labyrinth than any other trial. They do not know how to stop. Well done. I have never created a Goetic and put an Abyssally infected mind into it before. It should be interesting…. Remember, the anti-reality always seeks to propagate itself any way it can. It may have had time to adapt to reality in unforeseen ways once it was unable to spread. Are you ready?” He asks. He stands at edge of a giant circle behind him. In its center something black is pulsing, a cocoon of abyssal energy. “If things go funny I will pull us out and collapse this Labyrinth with the entity still in it. This place exists outside of me.”

“Sure.” I say.

“The infection has no mind of its own, no desires, it is a lifeless virus. When I plucked the mental thread from your mind and placed it into a complete mind I created to contain it. When I put it in the Geotic being your thoughts gave it personality. Understand this to defeat it …Here we go. Good luck boy.” He says a word and the cocoon splits.

Black tar falls from it, landing on the floor. As it does a basic shape begins to form. The tar becomes feet, then legs, genitals, belly torso head. It falls and adds each layer. It resolves like water in the shower running off a form into a shadow me. It smiles, utterly cold.

It speaks. “And here we have the weakness. You always were worthless weren’t you? Lazy and arrogant.”

I have heard these words before. My mother said them to me often enough. I blink and force the feelings they evoke down. Damn. Feeling feelings again. “Your mother was a tar baby. “ I respond.

It snarls and rushes me. I punch it in the nose. In most humans this breaks the nose, one of the densest clusters of nerves in the body, causing disorientation and pain. My hand sticks and a burning sensation covers it. I feel it laughing at me and the sick feeling of nausea returns. I gag and it moves its hand towards my mouth. I wrench my body around so my legs are behind it’s and try to throw it. It sticks further. The lights around the room dim. The circle flares with magical warding.

“Worthless…worthless… loser… Bookworm… useless!” It is cackling the words out of a hole in its neck, my hand still caught fast in its face. It is drawing sustenance from me, feeding of my power, my mana, my soul.. I feel it. And I buy a clue, realization dawns.

“Hey pretty boy. You have something on your face.” I draw on my own inner fire, the spark that makes me a human and a mage. I set it ablaze with my soul. And I channel it into the things face. Celestial Fire. It screams. I wreath my body in it, forcing more and more of my will into the fire which burns inside of me and everything around it. Pure, blue white fueless Aetheral fire. It burns white around me and into the tar creature made from insane math and hate. Where before it was sticking to me it is now trying to escape. I hold fast and pour on more heat. I push all my will into it and the shadow me burns as I push as much mana as I can into it. This Labyrinith is within and without me, it is the seat of my magic, my center, and my will. The creature does not grow stronger off any residual paradox here, For I draw on what is me and burn it away from me. I feel my tower, I feel the fires of purity running through and around me. I Scour myself pure, lighting all the dark corners of me and banishing all the shadows there. It withers and I feel the mind that was it, me, and my bizarre mentor die. My vision falls back and looks at the high vibrating ceiling. I black out in the fire, gazing at the lights from above and smiling. Black tar dissolves in the fire I lie in. I feel all my inner lies die. I feel the Abyss gone from me.

                                                                          XXXXX

In the which our hero wakes up again.

And I do, which surprises me. I am lying on the floor in the center of the circle. Daedalus is outside the circle, peering at me, sending his vision to observe me at close range. He waits. I stand up and walk out of the circle, the hum and blue light of the circle fades. I feel great. I look at Daedalus and see in him no lie. I look around the room and see shadows moving in the objects across the floor. They stop at the circle and swirl around before moving on. I look at him.

“That was fascinating. As usual Celestial Fire on a manifested Abyssal Entity is usually most effective. How do you feel?”

“Well, actually. I would like to discuss it over breakfast. And a little about the Adamantine Arrow, while we are there.”

“Funny, I was going to bring that up.”

“I thought you might.” I say.

By the way, you still owe me three favors as agreed upon.”

“Of course.” I reply, blinking only for a second.

From watching Master Daedalus practice his arts of conjuring beings from the mind and visiting his mental/space labyrinth I have learned a secret of the Mind Arcanum. I unmade an Abyssal Geotic Mind Manifestation with celestial fire and watched Daedalus create a new mind from nothing as a prison, then watched this mind gain flesh. Because of these lesson and trials I have become a Master of the Mind Arcanum. My attempts to absorb or conquer the being would have been a dire mistake.

Story Note:

The folded paper is a leftover doctorate thesis from an earlier graduate student. It was left wedged in the mathematics book and forgotten as the student slowly descended into madness. The student went crazy shortly thereafter, locking himself in his room and writing nonsense on the falls. None of the professors at ISU understood it, they didn’t have the intelligence or creativity to understand the first proof, just one cursory glance turned out to be safe enough. He was sent nearest mental health hospital ward where he vanished from his cell mysteriously after covering the walls with his writing his Abyssal Proofs in semen, blood, and feces. His apartment had some strange phenomenon reported by new owners for a while before a priest comes from out of town and performed an exorcism. The priest has not been seen since.

Daedalus is the Adamantine Arrow Geotic Sorcerer for southern Idaho. The trials he sets are hard and geared to what he thinks a potential recruit can handle. The trials always result in a boon for the mage in question and a boon for the teacher, be it a magical material they can use later, a rote that will help them down the line or a contact that will serve them well in their career. This is not to say that he is entirely altruistic, he can and does use them as an opportunity to advance his goals. As a master of Life, Mind, and Space however those goals are largely inscrutable. The feather is an advanced effect using all the Arcanum, It tells him exactly everything about an applicant and if they would be a good match for the Arrow. He is dying and looking for a successor. The cave is his personal Hallow, he has not let anyone before go there. He tests are so he can see what a person will do.

Oh yeah, if you want him to he believes there is a world that existed before this one where mages were engaged in a war against a global conspiracy of mages who believed all magic must go through technology. He believes he traveled to this world in a Orichalcum egg. Crazy, right?