Seed 4
May 31st, 2032.
I glared at the piece of parchment in front of me, flexing my hands so they wouldn't cramp from overuse. I had been taking notes on Cyfrinic, as it was currently the only form of the Craft I had a chance at accessing despite the limitations.
Cyfrinic was an interesting language with 33 different letters. Each corresponded to a specific phoneme unlike English or Spanish with 26 and 27 letters, and 44 phonemes and 25 phonemes respectively. Phonemes are the specific sounds of a language. It's why in English the same letter can sound different depending on letter combinations. In Spanish, with less sounds than letters we changed the meaning based on which syllable we placed emphasis on, which is why we have accented letters.
I noticed that everyone spoke some variant of English locally known as Common. Which had been implemented by the Chantry over the past several centuries as they spread their influence across the continent. It was… kind of disheartening as Cyfrinic sounded fascinating as a language.
“Okay, Celia is phonetically broken up into s, ɛ, l, i, and ə…" I muttered absently as I matched the sounds to their corresponding or most similar cyfrinic letters. Strange symbols that reminded me of runic languages. Structurally though it seemed to have more in common with Spanish with a more in-depth case system. I looked down at my notes, using Spanish as a base due to it being more similar though not identical. Old Tongue was a strange mix of both soft and harsh, and it was interesting to learn. Incendiar was a good Spanish word to start, and had proven useful for an enchantment.
Inθendjar.
“Hard to learn fourth.” I rubbed at my throat, rolling my eyes. Learning three languages and previously looking into linguistics and phonetics had laid the groundwork for learning Cyfrinic. “Familiar but not. Words have meaning and power, and can call upon spirits, yes?” I asked Ultima as she watched me. Fiddling with a cyfrin chain designed to create a security lock.
“Correct little witchling, the Children commune with the spirits, creatures of only energy rather than of energy in flesh like us. Spirit World is their home, the places between.” She informed me eagerly, ears twitching like a cat’s as she acted as my teacher.
The places between… reminded me of that dream in the dark, I had felt so small, and I wasn't sure why. Seek out the void.
I blinked at that stray thought, I really hoped I wasn't coming down with something. Not Ultima had taken me to a local Healer and dosed me up with what felt like a half a dozen shots so I wouldn't come down with something. Fortunately this world had vaccines for Earth diseases as well so I wouldn't become the epicenter of an epidemic.
“Currently made three chains, protection, strengthen, enkindle.” I patted my belt with a grin, covered in cyfrins of protection. It created a strange circulating energy that reduced the damage I would take from magic and physical blows. So it was very helpful when it came to surviving anything this world would throw at me.
I wasn't indestructible, this was a generalist enchantment so it would block everything but not with 100% effectiveness. A tradeoff of sorts I was more than willing to pay as a squishy human. The strengthening enchantment involved overall reinforcement of my strength. I could kick harder and punch harder. Written into a necklace, while the third chain was written on parchment and would ignite the paper on a timer.
“You are good student, you hear and listen with open ears.” Ultima smiled and I wiggled in my seat, beaming up at her. “We will spend time on brewing tomorrow, the Craft of Potions is a useful magic to learn.”
I nodded happily. “Good yes, I wish to learn Mentor.”
Ultima hummed quietly, almost like a soft rumbling purr as she pointed out the intricacies of her language.
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June 1st, 2032.
I was assaulted both by strange smells and the aura of magic in the air, excitedly looking around the room that Ultima had set aside for her Craft. The room was large and made of an odd stone material. On the opposite end of the room was a shelf of basic reagents, with more sensitive ingredients stored behind another door leading to a supply closet.
We had entered through a blast door, which Ultima had mentioned was made of a titanium-mithril alloy. The former from the Human Realm and the latter from her realm.
Ultima placed a hand on my shoulder with a serious expression. “You've taken chemistry in school I bet?” I nodded hesitantly, it was an advanced course I took before I had taken a college-level biology course, and gave me a good general idea when it comes to lab safety and preparation. Plus I had been playing with chemistry sets since I was ten.
“So, follow your every instruction so my insides don't become my outsides?” I replied dryly but was more than serious in doing exactly that.
Ultima nodded. “Yep, I don't want to send you off to meet Hel any time soon.”
My nose wrinkled at the sharp smell of different herbs and brewing cauldrons. I observed one empty cauldron in the center that was clean. As well as a large wooden table covered in cyfrinic letters. “Any other rules?”
“No cross-contamination, so please wash your hands.” I nodded as I went over to a hand wash station. Washing under my nails and leaving no stone unturned in my washing mission. “Second rule is no use of the Craft, especially in the form of spells.”
I nodded vigorously, having read well in her home. “Right, a book you had mentioned that using magic diverts energy that could be infused into the actions of brewing, and draws out the energy in the ingredients as well.”
Ultima rubbed my head with a proud look and adjusted the leather apron protecting my fragile body from dangerous substances. “Good, I see you're devouring the books in my home. You're a smart cookie.”
I shrunk back at the comment, breath hitching. No, no, not again.
Ultima coughed. “Anyways, we of course have a multitude of suitable tools, stirring rods, pewter knives, glass beakers, and more. And ingredients obviously.” She gestured to her many shelves. “The Craft of Potions is a truly incredible gift, the majesty of softly simmering cauldrons, the smell and taste of wild true magic, the art of drawing together materials to create something amazing.” Her magic pulsed outwards, and I shivered at the dim growing glow in her eyes. “My first love is Enchantment but potions… Potions are a good second.”
I nodded, doing my best to ignore the sharp, irritating smells, and I swayed from side to side. Ultima noticed.
“Are the smells too much for you?” There was a soft concerned tone to her question, and I shook my head.
“No. I've handled chemistry before, I might be autistic but I'm not invalid.” I rejected her concern. I was fine, it was just a bad smell.
Ultima huffed. “Of course not, but I do have to ask, I don't need you keeling over due to a reaction. Humans and witches have differences in our biology, so I want to be safe, nothing more, nothing less.”
“Oh.” I said quietly with a blue on my cheeks. “But no it's a bit irritating but not in a bad reaction sense I don't think.”
“Good. I'll be teaching you all I can on brewing potions, especially healing. It'll be good to keep yourself in shape on the Isles.”
“So what do we need for a basic healing tonic?” I asked loudly, I couldn't help but bounce and flounce as I followed my teacher.
“Well, first we’re going to need to mash some idunn berries, mince some wormwood herbs, and dilute bugonia honey with purified water and then—”
I listened gladly to her every word, wanting to learn as much as I could.
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I gently swished the basic healing tonic in my hand with a wide grin. My skin tingling with the strange sensation of the energies of the Craft. I had successfully done magic yesterday, even if it wasn't as flashy as I expected.
But I did always enjoy chemistry…
Arali was close by, playing with an old comb with a curious expression in his dark, dark eyes. He was reading a book in plain English that appeared to show off a map of the Calafia Isles.
He gave me a sly glance, gesturing to eight divisions themselves divided into even smaller subsections. “I’m reading about the political landscape of the Calafia Isles, while you’re busy diving into magic and spellcrafting.” He boasted loudly, clearly moving the book to catch my attention.
“Tell me about it?” I immediately sat down right next to him, and he looked surprised.
“You sure? Ultima doesn't tend to like this kind of stuff, it makes her mad at the Pale King.” Arali seemed oddly uncertain about this issue, and I did my best to reassure him.
“I'm sure, I'm a bit of a nerd for this kind of stuff, and the political landscape of Calafia sounds fascinating. Tell me more.”
He beamed, offering a strange smile with his odd jaw. “Good, good. I'll tell you all about the Isles. So to start off with it, there are eight Calafia tribal kingdoms, the octavo.” He paused at my expression.
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“The eighths, got it,” I observed, rubbing my chin as he delicately brushed his claws along the pages of his book. “Keep going.”
“The octavo have been eight kingdoms for at least three centuries, though there were twelve kingdoms when the Pale King began his preaching about… four centuries back?”
I winced. “A four-century-old king sounds like a pain in the ass.” God that sounded like a real nightmare.
Arali shrugged. “Calafia politics is complicated, but nowadays there are about a hundred and twenty kings, each of them the lord and master of their own tribes, the taifa, across the isles.”
“I can't imagine that being easy to manage at all.” It really did sound like some type of outright medieval level of organization, and perhaps it really was that.
Arali nodded. “Some tend to just call themselves chiefs nowadays, but most still prefer being called kings… they can be touchy about their titles so watch out,” he gave his warning with his adorable feathery face. “The old taifa could have anywhere between six and nine thousand people, made of two to three err… thirty hundreds? Old translation, really. Ideally about thirty people per property, a hundred of them in a thirty hundred, two to four in a taifa, and between ten to forty taifa in a kingdom.” He scratched his chin with a scowl.
“Ideally… I'm guessing modern taifa are larger than they used to be?”
“Yep! Nowadays a taifa has about forty eight thousand to one hundred eight thousand people, or about sixteen to thirty-six thirty hundreds, averaging about ninety thousand a taifa.”
I did the math in my head. “So the population of this region is at least ten point eight million? Potentially higher depending on the size of some of the taifa.” I mumbled to myself. It was less than half the population density of Ireland and California. Buf then again they might have restrictions that we don't. Whether technological or ecological. “That would make any kind of politics between my world and yours a nightmare.”
Ripe for exploitation, a hundred minds to set against one another, just like we’ve always done.
Arali looked curious but didn't pause his explanation. “The taifa all declare fealty to a greater king, one of the overkings who rule over the eight kingdoms and who in turn declare fealty to the High King, the Pale King himself. He rules over everything, and leads the Chantry as part of his empire. Even so, the kingdoms and taifa are always making and breaking alliances, he just manages them and keeps them in check… but if you cross him…”
“Death?”
He placed a hand on my arm. “No.” was all he said, and I shuddered in response,
He gestured to the map. I swallowed when I noted the shape of the Isles, it was shaped somewhat like a fossilized semi-humanoid dragon. A set of four islands comprised the outlines of a draconic skull, and the entirety of the middle was compacted and distorted. The neck, torso and pelvis are largely buried under a single island, with the remnant of a hip and a knee towards the west.
There was a long tail split into three islands, forming a rough V-shape. The western island and the central island cupped a smaller triangular southern sea. The central island continued onwards as a wide peninsula for hundreds of miles. With the final tail island being directly north, roughly the same size as Rhode Island. Forming the three sides of a northern gulf over a tenth the size of California.
There was a single intact imprint of an arm, split into three segments with four curving mountains at the tips of finger-like peninsulas.
“Big.” That was all I had to say, how massive had this creature been? Even what I saw was largely an imprint. I saw how the islands were each marked differently, eight marks, eight kingdoms?.
Arali pointed towards three segments of the tail. “Like I said there are eight kingdoms, this here is the kingdom of Taglaz,” he pointed to the last two segments of the tail. “We’re in the kingdom of Danab, the first segment of the tail. To the north across the channel is the kingdom of Bolgos. To the west is the island kingdom of Jangha,” he pointed to each corresponding kingdom with a flick of his thick, curling claws. “To the north of that is the kingdom of Pectus. Then to the east is the kingdom of Armaz,” he pointed to the shoulders and the forearm. “Then the kingdom of Manu.” He gestured to the hand, and finally to the head. “That leaves the kingdom of Yúlukal, where the Pale King rules all. Along with several independent cities that have fought with the kingdoms under his eye, there was a war with one city, Illiac, about thirty years ago that killed about fifteen thousand people. Lots of bad blood.”
“So I'm guessing there's lots of politics all over the place?”
Arali nodded. “The biggest thing you need to worry about is the petty kings, if there's one thing I can say about Calafians it's our independence streak. Constantly competing and fighting to be top demon, a fine mess of battles, broken alliances, and new alliances in the span of a year.”
Wonderful.
I sagged, staring at him in horror. “So I'm going to have to deal with that while staying here aren't I?”
He just giggled. “Heh, you're lucky, at least you’ll be able to travel into the Human Realm once Ultima figures out how to teach you.”
“Oh thank God!”
There was a moment of thought, dragging on into eternity.
…
“Wait what!”
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“What, did you really think I wouldn't teach you how I travel between realms?” Ultima looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “It's one of my most important abilities, and one of the best defenses we both have. And as my Apprentice, you have the right to learn.”
“Best defenses… against any enemies or rivals you might have?” I asked, already knowing the answer but wanting it from her.
“The Woven Realm is a harsh and brutal world, and the thinnies are the best way to get out of the way. Plus it doesn't involve much if any magic, just the means to sense the strangeness of the connections between realms.
A realization came to me. “Is… is that why you wanted to test how well I can sense magic?”
“Right on the nose.” Ultima tapped her nose for emphasis with a grin. “Arali is too young to learn but you're not, and in time you might be able to open your own paths rather than just finding them.”
“How do they work exactly?” I asked, curious about her answer, how would portals between realities work?
Ultima cleared her throat, straightening her posture. “I've told you about the Spirit World,” I nodded, not interrupting. “A greater, higher reality, separated by the gossamer-thin strands of the veil. Think of the Spirit World as a great and encompassing ocean of infinite depth with mortal worlds, entire universes drifting like chips in that ocean, though perhaps branches would be more accurate, all tied back to a tree of timelines within that ocean.”
So it was something like a form of many-worlds theory… or perhaps a weird form of brane-world cosmology, with the Spirit World as the bulk and the universes as branes floating within a higher dimensional space.
“So these thinnies are portals tied to the Spirit World? Some type of manifestation of a higher plane of existence?”
She shrugged. “More or less, most portals actually lead to different layers within the Spirit World, realms within realms. But a special few are conduits that allow one to travel from one material world to another. Those are far harder to navigate and find. So I prefer using the portal I've tied to my domain. Along with a handful of ones I know are stable, and lead to Earth.”
I blinked. “Are you saying there are portals leading to other worlds entirely?”
Ultima grimaced. “I don't recommend it personally. Many of those worlds are either dangerous or dead or both. At least two I found were worlds destroyed by nuclear war, guess they were a bit harsher than your world.”
I flinched, my heart rate picking up at the idea. “Oh. Yeah I guess so.”
Ultima looked guilty at her faux pas. She watched me carefully and I just offered a nervous smile. “Sorry… horrible joke.” I shook my head, and she sighed. “Okay once you're more well-versed in magic. I'll be teaching you how to use portals like these to your benefit. Some realms are quite useful when it comes down to materials and useful power sources.”
“What kind of realms?” I asked, curious about how she would answer.
“The Feywilds are one, the home of the fey, who are beings drenched in glamour and illusion. They're also otherkind though they lean towards the spiritual more strongly than most.”
Something came to mind then and there. “Could you show me? I've seen your portals before, but never with detail. I want to see what I'm working with in the future.”
Ultima stared for a moment, silver pupils focused intently on my face. She nodded. “I can do that, maybe it'll help you figure something out, I'll open the door slowly.”
She took a long deep breath, fingers curling in and out, claws flexing out to their full length. There was a pulse of cold, a tiny lurch in my stomach, something like vertigo.
There was a strange twisting of my perceptions, as Ultima gently pulled at the veil between worlds, the entire building shuddering with an almost flesh-like quality, a flash of light passed me by. The rift in reality expanded, flowing with streams of barely perceptible silver, twisting into shapes and patterns and—
Now… then, what was that?
Something brushed against me, and flinched. It was a spirit that was somehow all things and yet none. I saw the shape they made, a pattern burned right into my mind, and I gasped.
Ultima paused her spell, carefully sealing the rift back up with a worried expression. “What? Is something wrong?”
I smirked. “No. I… figured something out, something important.” I already had parchment at hand from learning Cyfrinic, and I took out a pen from the pocket of my shorts
I drew a perfect circle, and then a second smaller circle within, just as I had seen those strange spirits make within the portal. I drew a straight line from north to south right through the heart of the pattern. Then a second straight line from west to east, dividing the circle into four parts of a whole. All things and yet none.
The lines extended past the boundaries of the outer circle, like a cross. Such a simple symbol, just circles and lines, and yet… it was special, I knew it was special, important, vital.
I touched the symbol, and there was a shifting, sliding, creeping of the world. A nimbus of power gathered within the symbol until the very ink that formed it dissolved into a void, a faint warp in existence. I extended my hand into that warp and shuddered as it fell under my grasp, a whisper, a word, a sound I couldn't get out of my own head.
The paper I had drawn the symbol on was pulled by the gravity of the warp, and my eyebrows lifted in shock and… intrigue. I flung the paper away with a flick of my wrist, the subtle warp following my actions before dissipating with its energy spent.
“So. That's new isn't it?” I gave my teacher a smug shrug, and she looked both curious and impressed.
“By the spirits… you’re going to rock this world aren't you kid? I feel sorry for the dumb bastards that’ll stand in your way.” Ultima sounded so very proud and I openly puffed up my chest.
I licked my lips as I felt the cold tingle where my hands had touched the void. “Heh. This is something worth exploring.”
I grinned sharply.