Well look at me, sneaking out at night to talk to a guy with no supervision, hiding in the treetops out of sight of all the adults. I’m such a bad girl~

Ugh, I can’t play it off like that with a straight face. I really do feel like an arse hiding this whole thing.

I mean, what am I supposed to say? “Hi, I was a human that got reconstructed by a bird and put into a newborn fairy as a tongue-in-cheek joke, and I indirectly screwed up the entire world order in the process?” Or “well we’re nominally twins, but my memories are 15 years older than you at bare minimum”? I’m sure THAT would go over well!

Jeeze… I’m a real piece of shit.

“I sure hope you can hear me, Meden. I’m invoking condition nine of our bargain.”

I’m startled by a loud CAW from behind me. I spin around to find myself eye level with a familiar crow. “Hello again. This is our first time meeting in this form. I understand you’re going by Liandan now. Or should I call you Navi? I like the new look!”

This smarmy little jerk! “You mean the one you put me in, Meden.”

The crow’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “I’ll admit I chose your form because it was entertaining, but it does follow all of your stipulations, does it not? Do you think this counts as a monkey’s paw?”

I relent with a sigh. Cheeky little fowl or not, I can’t honestly say I mind being a fairy. Heck, maybe this is my bias speaking, but I wouldn’t want to be anything else anymore. “No, no I’m fine with being a fairy.”

“No complaints, then?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I remark. I definitely have some complaints.

I mean, look at me! I look like Dorothy kept her Kansas color palette in Oz! And at this size it’s actually surprising I haven’t been menaced by any insects. Being a member of a potentially poisonous species is probably doing me some favors there, but it’s not like I have any aposematism going for me personally.

“Already sounding like a child again, always wanting to be big,” the crow muses. “Don’t worry, you’ll grow.”

Right, he read minds.

“As for your complexion, normally a fairy’s colors are permanently set at birth, but there are exceptions. You’re one of them.

“Your form was made from the coalescence of natural magic, and the fire and ash affected it. Your hair, eyes, aura, and magical abilities and traits are locked in. However, you will recover from some of the physical damage as you age. Your body’s ‘saturation slider,’ as you put it, will eventually move back up and leave your tone just a bit more muted than your counterpart’s.”

“Why DID you drop me into the middle of an inferno?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“Because it was fitting. Funny too,” he says. I’d figured as much, but it’s still irritating to hear. I can’t say he’s screwing me over at all, he’s been a bird of his word on that, but he’s definitely enjoying messing with me.

“Guilty,” he chuckles. “So, I take it you have questions?”

“Yeah,” I say. “How many questions or minutes do I get before you start increasing the cooldown?” Wait, was that a stupid question? I’d have to know the limit but the more inane queries I make the more I risk surpassing it.

“Nah, no hard limits,” Meden replies. “I’m not going to set a hard number like Tri would. Just keep it reasonable.”

Well that’s generous. This bird is surprisingly amiable for a supernatural entity..

“You’re a supernatural entity now too.”

“Good point. Next question: why did you give me a twin? I’m not complaining, I adore the girl, but it seems like an odd choice.”

“You have it backwards,” he says. “I didn’t give you a twin, I gave her a twin. She was always going to be a peculiar one. I thought it best to give her a companion for Life.”

“But why me, then?”

“Because it had to be you. It’s always been you.”

What, like destiny? Tri made it sound like there are a lot of different timelines though, so that doesn’t make sense.

Wait, Meden didn’t use future tense, he used past and present. That would mean I’ve always been her twin? I mean, I guess I have. I’ve technically only spoken to Meden in a past life. But wouldn’t that mean the conditions don’t apply anymore, since I’m not technically the same person? Or, am I?

Ugh, I asked for it, but having your consciousness deconstructed and reconstructed simultaneously is a huge mind screw.

“Ugh, I don’t want to think about that. Thank you, but I’m just going to go with ‘gift horse’ and leave it at that.”

“And now you know how she feels when you talk shop,” he teases.

“Empathic link, I already do.”

“Figure of speech. Anything else?”

I almost want to ask what he knows about Tri, since he’d mentioned having fought with him before, but I get the feeling I’d have a hard time processing it. It’s probably better to keep my head down regarding the greater gods.

“They call themselves ‘Forces.’ It’s an apt description.”

“Noted, still not going to ask. Hm, well, not directly. What are those amnesia-balls anyway? The note said ‘n-spheres’, but that’s just a placeholder name for a hypersphere, right? Higher dimensional spheres? Does that make sense? I’m only familiar with the cubes.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“For regular circles and spheres too, actually, but it’s faster to say than ‘ordinal zero through ordinal omega spheres.’ As for what they are, think of them as crystalized power itself.”

“What do I do with them?”

“If you want a normal life?” he asks. “Nothing. Knowing the Fourth, she’s thrilled that your third condition managed to shake things up, even indirectly. I dare say she likes you. She’s sent two things: your tutor and those n-spheres. She sent the vixen in her capacity as the Goddess of Magic, but she sent those spheres as the Force of Chaos. Power like that comes at a price even I can’t offset for you.”

I nod. I’m not sure what Belladonna saw in hers, but whatever I saw was… unnerving. Best we lock those away. I’m not out here looking for ironic consequences.

“But speaking of power, how do I use magic? It seems everyone’s unsure themselves without the system in place, and it sounds like I’d think using it through the system was for rookies in the future.”

“Hm. Alright. First off: the cost of that rain check of yours?”

Oh, that's right, he did say he'd tell me when I was in the new world. "So, what is it?"

“It’s a condition called ‘Self-Centered.’”

"Oi!" I object.

Meden only caws in laughter as I cross my arms and pout. “All magic you use has to be centered around yourself in some way. Touch, self-enhancement, and point-blank area of effect. Everything else will fizzle out before even try.”

“So, no Telekinesis even though every other fairy can do it?” I ask.

“Oh, no, that’s basically ranged touching. It’s ranged manipulation anchored on your current position. You can’t pull yourself off the ground with telekinesis, though if you were really good you could push the ground away with it. Same reason you can’t lift yourself off the ground with your own arm: it’s still centered on you.

“The fairies don’t have any ranged racial magics, but you’re not going to be casting fireballs or anything while you’re holding onto that rain check.”

I sigh. “Noticeable and inconvenient. Right.” Between that curse, the system going down, the lack of non-systematic spellcasting, and my miniscule size, that makes self-defense a daunting prospect. I’m pretty sure I’d lose to a mantis right now, and even if I grew a foot tall that’d limit my options against any normal size human.

“Want to cash it in?”

“Hah! No. Not until I really need it.” That is a lifeline in a world full of unknowns. This world has gods and demons in it, I might need to use that in an emergency.

The crow let out a muted caw. “Well, just let me know.

“Back to spellcasting. There are four kinds of magic you can learn: unique, personal, racial, and general. General magic is something that anyone with a knack for spellcasting can learn to use. Ritual magic falls within this category.

“Racial magic is intrinsic to certain species that is difficult for others imitate and impossible to copy, such as Fairy Flight, Skoll Hunt, or Foxfire.

“Personal magic is magic that one must have a specific talent for, like your king’s Territory magic, but they tend toward certain themes across a populace. The Vulpus tend to have a lot of illusionists, for example.

“And unique magic is magic that is very rarely seen more than once in one trillion people, and also has effects that are not seen in other types of magic.”

“I heard all of this from Cadmea this afternoon,” I say flatly.

“Just establishing the basics so you don’t try to shoot ice at something and wonder why you can’t,” he justifies. “As for actually casting, what the System did was create shared keywords and shortcuts for specific effects. It didn’t require much imagination or willpower to use, which drove Tetra up the wall.”

Makes sense. Imagine being a Tour de France pro and along comes some guy who changes out everyone else’s bikes for children’s tricycles because they’re easier to use and have a larger stable equilibrium.

If what the system did was create shared keywords, then did that mean there were no keywords? Like, spell names? Or, did he just unify it because everyone would otherwise have had their own keywords for each spell?

“The latter,” he says. “All magic is chaos, the violation of laws of physics, but all spells bring some sort of order to them in accordance to the caster’s will. Energy, form, effects. A fusion of imagination and precision.”

With that he flaps a wing, and I’m struck with a gust of wind. “Wah!” I yelp as the gust swiftly turns into a vortex, sending me into a swift, unwanted pirouette and trapping me there for five seconds. I flick my wings about, trying to upright myself in midair without losing my lunch.

“Can you tell me what I did?” the crow asks as the dizziness kicks in.

“Uuh, demonstrated magic?” I ask, head spinning.

“Correct. A spell I call ‘leaf twirl,’ that Tri would call ‘least projected vortex.’ I imagine the air gathering behind an area in front of my limb, which I then bat forward, and when it comes into contact with an object, contracting in a clockwise motion relative to the nearest terrestrial plane. I put magic into that and will it to be, and the effect is generated.

“But since I’ve come to associate all those steps with the shortcut ‘leaf twirl’, all I have to do is think it and it is.”

That’s honestly pretty straightforward. It’s no wonder Tri looked to standardize it if it’s really broken down to that level. But there was one part that still confused me: how do I put magic into something?

“It really is like riding a bike,” he says. “The mortals will take some time to figure out an alternative method of learning what magics they’re suited for, but I’ll just tell you. Your personal magic is ‘territory magic.’ It’s common among but not intrinsic to nature spirits, and is used to affect the environment within a certain range of yourself, so long as you don’t leave it. The most powerful on your new Earth belongs to Finvarra, with his Phantasm of Wandering, but you won’t be that powerful yet. Start small, train it and your power will grow.

“So imagine an effect. Give it a name, and hold it in your heart. Then, bring it forth with your magic. Invoke it like a wish, or a poem; an oath, a blessing, or a prayer. Then call its name, and it make it happen.”

I take a deep breath. Magic was never going to be explainable with science alone. That wouldn’t even be called magic at that point. I knew at some point, if I wanted to learn it, I’d have to give it a chance. Allow the illogical; loosen my mind’s grip on the natural, if only for a moment, and let the illogical seep in.

“Self-centered.” Territory magic. Right.

I close my eyes and imagine a sphere, five centimeters in diameter, centered around my chest. This sphere is mine, my own possession, to do with as wish for as long as I’ve claimed it. Inside this sphere… there is energy. Electrical energy. Negative Charge. Powerful enough to spark, but insulate me from its shock.

Make it true. Like a prayer. “I, Liandan, lay claim to the space around me, to bring change to it in my chosen image. I call upon the storm unseen, and ask it pass me by. Energize all other things within this space of mine, and poise yourself to strike.” I hold my hand out, palm down, fingers spread wide. “Negative Charge!”

I feel something drain out of me, and open my eyes. I look around. “Did it work?”

Meden leans forward, inching towards me with his beak.

Zap.

The moment he crossed the threshold of the area I’d imagined, a spark struck him in the beak. The bird didn’t flinch before returning to his perch. “Well done. That’s the first spell anyone in this world has invented in quite some time.”

I’m glad he thought that was good. I was worried the incantation sounded a bit twee.

“It was twee.”

Oh. Oh no. Damn it, I’m not even safe in my thoughts.

“You’re a fairy, you can pull off twee.”

“Noooo…” I whine. That doesn’t make it better!

“Just keep practicing your magic. Practice that spell enough and you can do it wordlessly. Any other questions?”

“Can I die of embarrassment?”

“Hah! Not even with Belladonna helping.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He only laughs. “Any other questions?”

I shake my head. It’s already been a few minutes, and I’m not sure what his cooldown rates are. “Just how long the cooldown is this time?”

“Eh, this wasn’t bad. Call it three days?”

“Yeah, that’s reasonable. I’ll see if I can’t hold onto more questions until next week. Thanks, Meden.”

“No problem,” he says, raising his wings and taking off. “Until next time.”

I watch him fly behind a branch and disappear. Other than, you know, getting me killed and being a colossal troll, he seems like a pretty decent guy. Bird. God. Thing.

I should get back to bed before I’m missed. Hopefully this dang aura of mine doesn’t get me caught.