A soft shuffle of fabric against the wooden floor brought Dyani out of her sleep. She held as still as she could but felt the air shift around. Ever since her magic had begun to settle a month prior, her magic sensitivity had only increased. Now, she could feel that another magical person was in the room with her. There was a brief lull in the silence before there was a whisper of words and magic flooded through the room. Dyani jerked up with a gasp as the magic was vastly different than the magic she had gotten used to throughout her recovery. She had never felt anything like it.
A hand slapped over her mouth, but before she could utter a sound, a soothing female voice spoke to her.
“Calm, young Dyani. Britt sent me.”
Dyani jerked away to get a good look at the woman who had invaded her space. Now that her eyes had adjusted, she could see the woman who had lent her the couch from her Dysc mishap.
“What’s going on?”
The woman shifted her skirt and sat properly.
“I do not have time, nor do you, but I will explain to the best of my abilities. We need to be quick.”
Dyani raised an eyebrow, although she doubted the woman could see it, “Please, enlighten me before I call Britt and ream his ass out for this.”
The woman’s laugh was light, a tinkling that caught her off guard. That was not a normal laugh. The woman’s eye sharpened as the thought crossed her mind, making Dyani wonder if she could hear her thoughts.
“I can, in fact. You project them quite loudly.”
Dyani reeled back in horror.
“Calm down, child. I am not concerned with looking into your mind at the moment. There are much more pressing matters. I know trust has not been earned, but you know Britt well enough. Do you trust him?”
Dyani hesitated. Did she trust him? It took a moment but she nodded, not vocalizing in case she said something she would regret.
“Good. Now, give me a piece of your hair.”
“Excuse me?” Dyani snapped. Although she was new to the world, even Dyani knew what one could do with pieces from another.
The woman suffered a long sigh, “I do not have the time to explain. If you trust Britt, who pulled in a favor for this, then give me a hair.”
The woman muttered under her breath some things that she was sure Britt would have found offensive. Dyani kept her mouth shut. The woman glared at her. Dyani stared at the woman harshly in return. The question was more or less: could she trust the woman’s word that Britt was behind this? The woman’s eyes rolled, and she heaved out a long, suffering sigh.
“For the love of the Goddess, I need a willing hair or blood or something of your body. We lack time, or would you like the Headmistress to catch you?”
Those were the words that got her attention and most likely convinced her to follow along with the supposed plan.
“Right now, the Headmistress trusts Britt but does not trust you. She knows that you want to contact your family more than anything.”
The woman caught the flicker of surprise on Dyani’s face.
“That’s right, Britt told me. Now, will you cooperate, or will I be able to go back to my sleep and have wasted my night? Which will it be?”
Dyani sighed and stood up, knowing it would spite the Headmistress even more. She eyed the woman before plucking out a single hair.
“Your oath.”
The woman raised an eyebrow, “I am surprised that you are even aware of the ramifications of one’s taglock.”
“When bedridden and under lock for upwards to two months, you tend to read anything you can get your hands on.”
The woman quirked a sly grin, “I, Sherinya Thranus Frayng of the Faelin, do hereby swear upon the Goddess that I will use this hair for one ritual to be conducted tonight and shall not use it for anything else outside of this. This, I swear by the Goddess’ might.”
There was a golden light around the two before it subsided. Dyani felt a hand brush her shoulder and a comforting presence settled over her. A warm shiver coursed through her, the magic within her surging. The woman took a slight step back, sucking in a sharp breath in surprise.
“We best get to work.”
Sherinya walked to a table with a chair and a couple of brochures for the area. It was the customary table set up within the hostel. Her stuff was set aside and she stepped closer to Sherinya to see what she was preparing. Looking over the shorter woman’s shoulder, Dyani watched her carefully.
Supplies after supplies poured from the bag and onto the table. Dyani thumbed the jars, knowing at least that she wouldn’t be too reckless in fiddling with them. Some were downright grotesque and others she didn’t think she’d ever want the name of. There was a thud and Dyani’s head jerked to see that Sherinya had dropped down a massive hunk of what appeared to be clay.
“What is it that you are doing?”
Sherinya paused before glancing at Dyani from the corner of her eye. There was a slow, sly grin forming. “Something that you will most likely never see again. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”
“Actually, I’d rather know than not. Even if I never see it again, I’d like to be a part of something that uses my taglock.”
Sherinya gave a suffering sigh, “I get that, Dyani. I really do. You must understand that the less you know, the more likely you won’t get caught. I’m not the only one that can read minds. You’re an open book that projects what you’re thinking.”
Dyani growled and slapped down the jar in her hand. The woman stalked to the bed and sat down, setting her face in her hands. Fingers raked into her hair and pulled in frustration. Sherinya picked up the jar to ensure the contents were intact before dragging a chair over in front of the emotional woman.
“Understand something, Dyani. You are new to this world. You are not a small child that is just entering. You are an adult that is easy pickings. Being a part of this world is more than just the fantastical stories that you’ve read, nonmagical or magical. This world is dangerous, Dyani. You must have gotten a sense of that.”
“I’ve gotten a taste of that, or do you forget that I was held captive on a stone table with a vampire’s fingers deep in my wounds to perform a blood ritual.”
Sherinya sucked in a breath, “That is what happened?”
Dyani’s head whipped up to stare at her in disbelief. Hands dropped to her lap and she looked away in shame after looking at Sherinya’s shocked face.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“He did what?”
The question was soft, but there was a hardness there. Dyani continued to look at the wall to her left, no words needing to be spoken.
“Dyani?” A soft hand wrapped over the top of hers. “I’m so sorry, I never knew. They kept the details away from the media. All people know is that you survived the backlash that rocked through three states.”
Dyani shook her head, not willing to speak anymore. Sherinya bit her lip before standing up suddenly. Stalking to the table, her movements were more harried and sharp. Bottles clinked together with a bit more roughness than before. It was silent for a while before Sherinya’s voice carried through the silent room.
“I’m doing a ritual, actually. You will not find references to it or understand about it on this side of the world. I will perform something very much illegal in the United States and most of the human magical society.”
The information sunk in, but Dyani was too focused on not letting the memories swamp her. Sherinya paused momentarily, sensing the rising emotions and magic within the room. It took only a brief moment before she made her decision.
“Dyani, I am going to need you.”
The magic swelled for a moment before settling into a gentler caress. Sherinya’s breath released in relief and she sensed the woman approaching the table.
“Are you sure?”
Sherinya barked a laugh, “Might as well get you started on the path of revolution. Let me teach you about making golems and some of the real magic behind the world. Not the shit they’ll be teaching you at that damned human school.”
Dyani snorted, “Trust me, I figured that out within the first few weeks of being trapped reading. Going from kid’s elementary books to high school level and some university level books, you learn to see what they aren’t talking about.”
Sherinya paused to look at her in confusion before it dawned on her face. “Those are nonmagical levels of education, correct?”
Dyani’s head snapped back with a short laugh. She stared at the smaller woman. A few jars caught her attention and she picked them up to examine them.
“That’s right. I came from the nonmagical world, so I tend to slip into those more familiar patterns.”
“How interesting. So you started with the pre-level years and then worked up to the upper levels?”
Dyani nodded, “Yes, though I could tell things were intentionally being left out. I’m not stupid or malleable like a small child coming into the world for the first time.”
“I imagine not,” Sherinya chuckled. “It must drive the Headmistress up the wall that she tries to chain you down but all it does is give you more rope to climb up into a better position.”
“True, I will not argue with that. Especially since Britt has been in the picture and smuggling my supplementary texts.”
The woman raised an eyebrow at her but continued working. Dyani chuffed an ironic laugh.
“Britt knows where I’ve come from, what I’m being forced to leave behind. He knows that I can go through the material faster than most students who are studying themselves. I got bored. It’s the same things being taught consistently, just changes here and there, much like how one moves from basic algebra into algebra two. It’s the same material. Same usage, just that there are slightly more complex forms.”
“I’ll pretend to know what algebra is, but I see what you mean.”
“It’s math. Numbers. Much like what you know as Arithmetic.”
Sherinya paused momentarily to stare at her in confusion, “Arithmancy. You know about using numbers?”
“Of course, all nonmagical education requires us to understand how numbers work. It is not as heavy in my field, but I have to have a good understanding. I asked Britt for a text one time. The closest level that he surmised me being on is the equivalent of a Journeyman.”
A thud sounded as Sherinya accidentally dropped a piece of clay she had been molding onto the table in shock.
“Excuse me? Did you just say Journeyman? But you’ve just started,” the woman hissed.
“I understand that surprise. Even Britt had the same reaction. The thing is that I do not understand the basic principles or the changes that make it magical. I just understand the calculations. It’s incredibly lopsided on my knowledge of it.”
“You’re so very odd for a human.”
Dyani stared at her momentarily, debating whether to ask the question. Might as well, as the woman was slightly distracted with the current task.
“Why do you keep referring to me as human? I mean, I figured out that you most likely are not human yourself, but why keep calling me that when you are at risk?”
Sherinya stopped what she was doing to stare at Dyani.
“I am not human. That is correct. You have not studied the nonhuman races, correct?”
Dyani nodded, “Correct.”
“Then I think it would be best to move past this topic before it could be dangerous for more than just you or me.”
Dyani’s brow furrowed before she nodded her head in acceptance. She would fight some battles, but this one was easy to let go of if it meant another was in danger.
"Now, shut up for a minute. We are on a time frame and I've already spent too much time talking with you."
Dyani sat down and let the woman work. It was a long and tedious process, which Dyani noted would have been close to being finished if she had followed the plan from the get-go. Dyani felt guilty about that, but she didn't follow every instruction given to her. She had some sense at least.
While waiting for the ritual to be complete, as Sherinya was already deep within a cast circle and weaving magic, Dyani fought between watching closely or thumbing through her new PMA. The case shone slightly when she turned it on, having taken the time to set it on its runic charger pad. She smiled at Britt's kindness from earlier in the day and the memories of the months spent cooped up in Recovery. If it wasn't for him, Dyani knew that she would have gone stir-crazy or she would have been molded like a perfect sheep. She shuddered at that thought.
There was a message waiting for her.
I'm sorry for the midnight call from Sherinya. She isn't the most pleasant on a good day, but I knew that she could get you out. Please let me know when you both have left. I will meet you there. Bring your PMA and everything else that we got for you today. Ditch your old clothes and switch to the new ones, including the shoes. Leave the school PMA with Sherinya. She will cover for you.
There was no signature and the number was unknown. Although, just from the tone, she knew that it was Britt. He must have picked up or used someone else's. She would ask him later if she remembered. There was a flash of light and Dyani watched in shock and horror as the clay moved on its own. It took shape and texture.
Sherinya spoke while it took form, “Golems are a specific subclass of arcane constructs. Each culture has a different method of creating constructs as a whole, but one that became popular originated as a form of protection from the Judaic practices. It’s a rather new concept compared to the many millennia of cultures from different realms. The difference is that the magic of Earth supports this magic more than most others. The success rate of these is higher than that of off-world cultures.”
The lump began to grow and color. Before her eyes, the clay gained the image of a human. It morphed and pulled at itself. Skin became a specific shade, and hair grew out dark and long. Dyani finally understood once she moved to stand right in front of the circle, looking directly at an exact clone of herself.
"It's called Golemancy. It's a magical ritual that allows you to create a duplicate of a person using a taglock. When created, they'll take on the genetic and magical signature of a person or being. This is why it's illegal to do. Right now, she is you. When you gave up your hair for this, the willing magic accepted that, until the destruction of this golem, it would become you, and you would cease to exist for that time frame. It's terribly complex. In particular, the Golemancy used tonight evolved from the original practice and has become more of a protector and duplicate than a task manager. It depends on who you ask in the history of it, really."
Dyani just gaped at the clone of her. The Golem looked and felt real to her. In fact, when the duplicate spoke, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Orders?"
Dyani listened as Sherinya rattled off orders and commands. Some of them seemed unnecessary but a single look from the woman had Dyani shutting up. While the woman was getting the Golem in place, Dyani took the time to gather all the supplies that she would need. Following Britt's advice, she stripped her body of everything that she could. Next, she took out the small number of clothes they had bought to tide her over. They were supposed to shop tomorrow for more clothes and anything extra that caught her fancy. Once her trunk was packed away, shrunk down into a small size that she placed in her messenger bag, Dyani waited for Sherinya's direction.
The woman got the golem to dress in Dyani's clothes, which happened to be the only set of sleepwear, and settled into the bed. At once, the Golem fell into a sleep. Sherinya sagged down into a chair, her forehead dotted with sweat. Dyani went over to her to see how she was faring.
"Dyani, it's time for you to leave for now. The Golem is in place, and you are being watched and scrutinized. The Golem will last for only a little while, but only part of the night. You must return within the next four hours, five at max, before the enchantments start wearing off. I can only hold it for so long. Take this and go."
A piece of paper was shoved into her hand. Dyani stared at it in curiosity. It was a singular address. One that she knew at least. It was an address for her to go to. Dyani opened her mouth but the feisty woman silenced her with only a glare.
"Go, you are running out of time and my patience is beginning to wear thin. Pester Britt with your questions."