Xanthir Actrinol sighed, regretting his past decisions that left him in such a desperate situation. But what was done was done. Chlothinoch had sworn, on the one oath that Xanthir could trust, that this was his only chance of survival.
He stepped into the Circle, and sat at his appointed spot. He reviewed his preparations. One towel. The unreadable note Chlothinoch had written. Two bluish-black Oneiroi feathers on top of that. He’d already reviewed the Circle 3 times. The runes were as good as he could manage. With nothing else to be done, he began to meditate, filling the circle with Essence so that the Design could support his Intention. Soon, the Circle resonated with his Intention. Satisfied, he fell asleep, then soon began to dream.
And so the Exchange of Knowledge began.
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Scott Jordan looked up from his demo as his midnight alarm went off. Dang. Work was going to start too early. And he’d only shaved 8 bytes off tonight. Sunday night and he still had nearly a week to get 4111 bytes down to 4096 before the convention. That should be doable, but now he had to sleep. Monday morning and a new week was going to start too soon.
Stretching, he undressed and went to sleep. Soon he, too, began to dream.
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Scott came to awareness of where he was, as sometimes happens in dreams. This was clearly still a dream. He was still undressed, but now was sitting in his chair. At his desk. Or what would be his desk if it had no computer, and it continued into a circular stone table with a wizard sitting at the other end. All of this in a barren stone room that he’d never seen in his life. The room was fairly large and well-lit, even though there was no sign of where light was coming from.
The wizard’s clothes clearly had seen better days. But the glowing runes were a nice touch. With glowing wisps of light floating up from the hat. If this were real, he’d have to find how that hologram was being generated. It would make a great cosplay.
The wizard began, “I HAVE SUMMONED YOU PER THE TRADITIONS OF THE EXCHANGE OF KNOWLEDGE. I OFFER YOU MY BARGAIN!”
Scott stammered, “Whoa, can you quiet it down a bit? I’m going to get a headache here!”
The wizard ignored him, “I AM XANTHIR ACTRINOL, MAGE OF THE SEVENTH CIRCLE, MASTER OF LUCK, HERO OF LLWELITH, AND SO ON AND SO FORTH. I WISH TO LEARN FORBIDDEN KNOWLEDGE.”
Scott groaned, “I hate dreams where I’m naked while meeting people. This sucks.”
“Oops,” Xanthir said, “I forgot that I was supposed to give you this first.” Xanthir handed what looked like a towel across the table to Scott. If a towel was supposed to be made from rough linen.
“Uh, thanks?” said Scott. At least he felt better with a slight concession to his modesty draped across his lap. And it was weird that he could actually feel how rough it was. Should that happen in a dream? No matter. “So what’s this about forbidden knowledge?”
“I SEEK KNOWLE-” this time Xanthir noticed Scott’s wince, and quieted down. “...dge of something that my world knows not.”
Scott asked, “What knowledge?”
“This note should explain it.” Xanthir handed over a piece of parchment. It read,
> Please teach Xanthir calculus and programming. Then help him integrate the arts of technology into his magic. In return he will make you an apprentice wizard. – Chlothinoch (minor imp)
Scott looked up, excitement welling. “It’s too bad that this is just a dream. This would be awesome!”
Xanthir answered, “It is both. We are from different dimensions. This is a space between our dimensions where we can meet in dreams and exchange knowledge. It can also temporarily hold a few of our things, but we can’t exchange those. This is the Bargain called Exchange of Knowledge. Haven’t you heard of it?”
Scott says, “Nope. New to me. It says that I get to be a wizard’s apprentice. Will I learn to throw fireballs?”
Xanthir sighed, “Why is it always fireballs? No. No. No. To throw a fireball, you need to create a ball of fire in your brain, just offset slightly into another dimension. Then shoot it out, letting the fire merge into this dimension on the way. Get it wrong, and you cook your own brain. I can’t teach you to do that. I can’t even do it myself. But what do you mean wizard’s apprentice?”
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Scott answered, “It’s what the note said, can’t you read it?”
“No,” said Xanthir. “Obviously I don’t know it if my world knows it not. We aren’t even speaking the same language right now! There’s a temporary translation spell in effect right now. But again, apprentice??? Do you not know any magic at all?”
With a shock, Scott realized that he was actually hearing an unknown language that he somehow understood. “No. My world doesn’t even believe that magic exists. But I certainly can teach you
Xanthir answered, “The translation only works for names, and concepts I understand. If I don’t know it, it won’t translate. That’s why I had Chlothinoch write the note. I’ve offered the Bargain, and I’m stuck with it. If you accept it, it becomes our Contract. But do you care to explain what I’ve agreed to?”
Scott chuckled, “This may be only a dream, but I’m definitely saying yes!” Scott tried to figure out how to explain calculus and programming to a medieval wizard “As for what, let’s say...ways to think really well about numbers and stuff, in a way that lets machines do the work for you. Oh, and helping you figure out how complex machines can work with your magic. Probably so that you can make the thinking part useful.”
CONTRACT ACCEPTED Bargain for Exchange of Knowledge proposed by Chlothinoch accepted.
Usual terms and conditions apply.
Scott blinked as the words appeared. Usual terms and conditions?
Xanthir shrieked, “WHAT IS THIS!!! You're going to teach me how to think with, and enchant, machines? What kind of machines do that. Enchanted pulleys? You don't even know magic!!!”
Scott looked sheepish, “Um, not quite. Though I can see why you see it that way. I'll explain later. What comes next?”
Xanthir sighed, “This is what I get for trusting Chlothinoch. Again. Well I’m stuck now.” Xanthir handed over a feather. “The first step is to hold this feather. After you wake, find where on your body it glows best, and keep it there all day. Before you sleep, put it on top of whatever you want to bring here. It can’t carry much here, only about 5 pounds at a time. You should prioritize bringing me something to learn your language with. The translation spell won't last very long. I will bring you material on Llwellan and Archthon. What languages will I be learning?”
“Just English,” Scott answered as he took the feather.
“Just English,” Xanthir echoed. “Is that a language of power? For that I'll teach you Archthon, which will let you talk to demons and impose your will upon the world. What will English do for me?”
Scott laughed, “English will just let you talk to me. I don’t know how many I’ll teach you when we get to
Xanthir’s eyes bulged out, “HOW many languages of power am I supposed to learn???”
Scott’s vision faded before he could answer.
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Xanthir woke. Learning how to think with enchanted pulleys? He was so doomed. What could a middle-aged overweight human with no magic do for him?
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Scott woke from his bizarre dream, feeling refreshed. His hand opened, revealing a bluish-black feather. As he watched in astonishment, it started to glow faintly.
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Bealtach, archfiend and Lord of Hell, watched the vision that Chlothinoch showed him. Becoming Lord of Hell was nothing compared to surviving to retain the prize. It required paying attention to every detail, no matter how minor. That is why he was now watching the latest way that Chlothinoch was tricking the Hero of Llwellan.
“So you’re promising me that you got him to waste an Exchange of Knowledge on learning from someone who knows no magic at all?”
Chlothinoch nodded vigorously, “Yes, lord. He will learn nothing to help him with his block against throwing fireballs.”
Bealtach nodded in turn. “And of course, a mage who can’t cast fireballs is dead meat on the battlefield. But how did you trick him this time?”
Chlothinoch smirked. “I let him summon me with the Rite of Enloch, then told him that this Exchange of Knowledge was his best chance, while thinking hard about how he'd better hope that you decide to keep him alive for your amusement.”
Bealtach laughed. “And of course, with that Rite he was assured that you were telling him the truth as you saw it. Well done! Maybe I will keep him alive after all. I want to see this, ‘thinking with enchanted pulleys’ if he actually learns it!”
Bealtach chuckled as he dismissed Chlothinoch and turned his attention back to the next note for his attention. Sometimes, paying attention to details was its own reward. After this was done, Chlothinoch would have to get a reward. A suitable one would have to be found that was still small enough for an imp.
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Chlothinoch looked around as she flew away from Bealtach. Hell was supposed to be all about power and deceit. But, like most archfiends, all that it appeared that Bealtach cared about was power. The magnificent throne was designed to make supplicants feel insignificant. The grand throne room, covered in gems and precious art, was a display of wealth with no taste.
Not that Bealtach would care what she thought about the display. All an imp had were tricks. Even though she was fond of Xanthir, the best she could reasonably hope for was to make Xanthir a plaything, kept alive as an amusing pet.
But in the privacy of her own mind, she wanted more. She wanted to play a trick so grand that it would accomplish the impossible. She wanted to accomplish a trick so great that it would earn her respect! Even from archfiends.
But was Xanthir actually capable of it?