Dark, demonic, or fey magic. Which do I pursue?

“Let’s do a quick cost-benefits analysis,” Oz said aloud.

“A what?” Linnea asked.

Ignoring her, Oz continued. “Dark magic. Upside: developed by humans, for humans. Probably pretty descriptive tomes. Downside: it’s taboo for a reason. Likely to face a backlash later, if not immediately. Inherently dangerous.”

Linnea pursed her lips and nodded.

“Demonic magic. Upside: not inherently dangerous, a choice between several different possession techniques. Downside: not made by humans, nor intended for humans. Manuals aren’t very descriptive. Easy to make a mistake and deviate my qi.”

Linnea nodded again. “More or less, yes.”

“Fey magic. Upside: no long-term danger, not inherently dangerous. Downside: no one in this room has any practice with it. Immediate and dangerous backlash. A live grenade.”

“What’s a grenade?”

“A live powder keg,” Oz amended.

“Powder…?”

“Dangerous,” he amended again.

Linnea nodded slowly.

Oz pursed his lips. After a moment, he shook his head. “Fey magic it is.”

“What? Why?” Linnea asked.

Oz squinted at her. “Dark magic is too problematic. You already told me that demonic magic isn’t suited for humans. Fey magic is what remains.”

“But it’s—”

“Dangerous, sure, but like you said: human magic starts from shaping raw qi. Fey magic, also, begins from shaping raw qi. More raw qi, and with different parameters and techniques, but there’s a foundational similarity,” Oz pointed out. Plus, I have to admit, the idea of using more qi than I’m supposed to is beyond tempting. If I can use fey magic as a way to gain secret advantages over my adversaries, all the better. Sure, from Linnea’s description, fey magic depends on the land and the world around it, and relies on a lot of setup, but… He looked above him, imagining the library overhead. If there’s one thing I have, it’s a lot of land, and a lot of time to set things up in it.

“Did you miss the part where you might explode?” Linnea asked, exasperated.

Oz shrugged. “Of the three options, it sounds the least dangerous.”

“Least?” Linnea gaped at him.

“Hear me out. The other two techniques have no clear indication of success or failure, and all the danger is long-term. Without an indication of failure, I have no way to avoid the drawbacks.

“On the other hand, if I mess up fey magic, I explode. Sounds like I’ll have pretty immediate feedback as to whether I’m fucking up or not.”

Fenrir nodded slowly. “You know, you’ve almost convinced me.”

Oz gestured. “See? Even Fenrir thinks it’s a good idea.”

“I didn’t say that,” Fenrir murmured.

“What do you think is a good idea, then?” Oz asked him.

Fenrir shrugged. “None of this.”

“I could… try…” Linnea’s voice faded even as she spoke, realizing the futility of her words.

“You’re the one who just pointed out how it’s no good without the instincts or physical body of a demon.” Oz grinned. He nodded. “Let’s find some fey possession spells first. From there, we can figure out if it’s viable or not.”

Linnea nodded, still hesitant. She turned to the shelves.

Oz gave her a look, then shrugged, taking his own side of the shelves. Fey magic. What would I look like, if I was a fey tome?

What are fey like in this world? The only fey I’ve encountered so far is Sid, and she’s pretty much a normal cat. I can’t go off of my world’s definitions blindly. After all, ‘demons’ aren’t anything like the violent, dangerous, hellbound creatures in my world’s myths. Demons here are ‘monsters with the ability to use magic’—basically, the word has a totally different meaning in this world. I shouldn’t expect fey to be exactly like the fey in my world’s legends.

He took in the books before him. The black sludge book continued to ooze from one of the books. Another book moaned softly, as if in eternal torment. A chill ran down his spine as his eyes landed on the book beside it, and his eyes rolled away of their own volition. Beside them, a very ordinary tome called to him. He grasped it before he thought, and started to pull it free.

A moment later, he froze. Why that one?

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Choose me, choose me.

Oz yanked his hand back. He took a deep breath, waving his hand as if he’d burnt it. Right. Be on guard. These books are dangerous.

He stepped backward. Putting a hand on his chin, he scanned from top to bottom. Decisively, he grabbed a book halfway down the shelf and flicked it open.

Indecipherable runes marched down the page.

Oz grimaced. I don’t know what I expected. Of course demonic and fey tomes are in demonic and fey languages. No way Ossian knows all of them.

The runes glowed, then swirled. They reformed into familiar words, words Ossian recognized. Oz waited for a moment for the words to process, and finally read:

Search the land for a silver rod. Drive it deep into the heart of a freshly-slain doe under the light of a full moon. As her blood pours out, call out, singing to the world, and call upon the ley lines and your own strength in concert. You should—

Oz grinned. Shaping magic with the earth? Calling more qi than you can hold? Found one! He turned the tome over, inspecting its cover, its binding, its shape. A small tome, soft fresh leather bound it. Small gold lettering at the bottom of the cover formed the shape of a single word in the same incomprehensible runes as before, though this time, the words simply remained runes.

I wonder if that’s the fey language? It’s certainly a fey language, anyways. Oz pressed his hand against the book, scanning it, then set it aside. Let’s keep going. Even if this book has a possession technique in it, I want options.

Besides, isn’t that the spirit of Madame Saoirse’s Universal Theory of Magic? To not believe any one book, but instead, to synthesize the most optimal spell from all the spells that exist?

I also need to familiarize myself with fey magic. Even from that one taste, it’s, uh, pretty different from human magic. What was that about the blood of freshly killed does, or whatever? Sure hope all fey magic isn’t weird shit like that.

Leaving the most overtly dangerous tomes to the side, Oz picked out a few more tomes. Some of them hit the shelf again bare moments later, not the fey tomes he thought they were, but slowly, he built up a small pile of fey magic.

That’s about… twelve tomes? One more, and I’ll settle in to start reading them. With the tomes Linnea picks, that ought to be enough for now. As much as I’d like to read every fey tome in one go, it isn’t realistic. I have a deadline on my head. I need to not only learn and potentially synthesize possession magic, but also learn fey magic principles, and master the possession spell, then go out into the mortal world and find the scandal, all in a month. I can’t stay down here and read unendingly this time.

“Oz!” Linnea shouted.

He whirled.

A crackling fire licked at the edges of the fey tomes. Oz blinked, momentarily frozen. What… how…

His eye ached, and the flames grew clearer. Under the fire, thin vines bound the tomes together, growing from every tome, with little red flowers that spontaneously burst into flame as they bloomed.

Even as he looked, an entry from one of the pill books came to mind. Fey Fire Vines. In areas of intense fey magic, Fey Fire Vines can spontaneously appear. The full conditions to bring forth these vines are not clear, and may only be known to fey. However, the common belief is that the Fey intentionally cause these vines to sprout. Fey Fire Vines are also known among mages as the cleanup vine. These vines often scorch the areas fey work magic in, obscuring the intent, origin, and processes of their spells.

Oz lunged, kicking the stack apart and sending the books scattering over the floor. Obscure the processes of their spells, huh? Exactly what I don’t need!

The vines snapped under the force of his kick. The flowers withered away, and a few moments later, the vines burned to ash. Flames continued to eat at the books, the fire that had already caught still merrily licking at the books’ pages. Oz yanked off his heavy overrobes and dropped them on the books, stomping the robes to kill the last of the fire.

“What was that? Some kind of fey defense?” Linnea asked, plucking another tome off the shelf. She reached down to add it to her pile.

“Linnea, no!” Oz shouted.

Linnea froze, snatching the book back. “No?”

“Don’t put too many in one place. They’ll—” all the words needed to explain Fey Fire Vines appeared before Oz’s eyes, and he instantly gave up. “—spontaneously combust.”

Linnea kicked her pile down and tossed the new book far away from the other tomes. “Understood.”

Fenrir chuckled. He made eye contact with Oz and slowly shook his head, amused.

Oz gave Fenrir a look. Cut me some slack. I’m lazy.

Kneeling beside the books, he lifted the edge of his robe and peeked underneath. The tomes smoldered, but no more live flames flickered in the dark. He retracted his robe, revealing the scattered, lightly-scorched tomes. Phew. Not too bad. Checking his robe for damage, he found little more than a few ashy smudges and weak spots in the lining. He nodded and slung his robe back on. Not too bad, not too bad. This whole thing could’ve been much worse. Got away with my clothes and my books. Not bad at all!

The next paragraph about the Fey Fire Vines floated before his eyes.

Fey Fire Vines are incredibly rare. One Fey Fire Vine Blossom can be worth a mage’s entire yearly salary. Luckily, if you come across Fey Fire Vines, their flowers are extraordinarily easy to harvest. Simply cast a fire-resistance spell on your hand and hand-pick the flower as it blooms, and you’ve acquired a Fey Fire Vine Blossom! If you move with speed, you can acquire two or three blossoms before the vines burn out.

Oz froze. He pursed his lips, eyeing the books. Maybe I should stack them back up…

Abruptly, he slapped his cheeks. No! Bad Oz! Money is spent, but knowledge is forever! If I’m going to do something so stupid, I should at least do it after I read the books! Besides, these are fey tomes, real fey tomes! Who knows how many mages’ yearly salary they’re worth? I’d be stupid to risk such valuable tomes for ephemeral wealth!

A quiet voice in the back of his head whispered, But ephemeral wealth…

Linnea squinted at him. “Oz?”

“I’m struggling internally,” Oz sighed wistfully.

Linnea nodded, understanding passing over her face. “We all face internal demons from time to time.”

Putting his hands on his hips, Oz regarded the tomes they’d collected. “I think this is enough. Thanks, Linnea. I’ll read these from here.”

“Chasing me out?” Linnea asked dryly. She shook her head and headed for the exit.

“Eh? No. Oh, right, you’re a demon. These demonic tomes are very useful to you, right? Go ahead,” Oz said, gesturing.

“Really?” Linnea blinked, surprised.

“Yeah? Is it that surprising?” Oz asked, tilting his head.

Linnea frowned. “I… well, Master—that is, Lif, forced me to use human cultivation techniques, even if it would take me twice the effort to make half the progress. I—”

“Don’t eat people, and uh, yeah, don’t be evil, but aside from that, go ham,” Oz said, giving her a thumbs up.

“Huh,” Linne muttered.

“I guess you can eat people if they’re evil and already dead. Dispose of the bodies, and all that,” Oz commented, half to himself.

Linnea looked at him. “You think I want to eat people?”

“Er… no…?” Oz tried.

Linnea laughed. She shook her head.

“Wait. Now I’m curious,” Oz said, squinting at Linnea.

“Just sit there and read.” Linnea crossed her arms at him sternly, but a hint of a smile played at her lips.

“Linnea! Hey!”