Oz tucked his list into his robes and stood. He glanced down the hallway. Is Linnea still in that small realm? Excellent. I’ll quickly lock her there. I don’t want her to know too much about my enchantment, or else she could interfere with the spell. He pressed a few symbols on his control tattoo, locking down the grassy realm.
He strode through the stacks, hurrying toward the rear. Before long, a nondescript door loomed, traced with thin fingers of frost. Oz took a deep breath, drawing his robes tight, then heaved the door open.
Snow piled up to the top of the door. The faintest hint of sunlight shone at the top of the door, suggesting there might be a top of the enormous pile. His perishable groceries sat in a bag to the left side, still undisturbed from where he’d dug them into the snow earlier. Oz knelt, rifling through the snow on the floor. The second his fingers crossed the threshold, they went numb. He patted his way around, searching for a stone. The cold went from numb to a dull ache, cold radiating up his palms and into his wrists. Oz hissed, forcing himself to reach further. Rock. Come on. Any rock. Anything at all!
His hand closed around something smooth. Oz yanked it into the library. A frostbitten rock tumbled onto the floor.
Retreating, he closed the door and put his hands into his armpits, bouncing up and down from the pain of the cold. Ow, ow, ow… at least I got a rock, though!
He grimaced at the pebble on the floor. But I still need a second one. Dammit. He eyed the door, still warming his hands. At last, feeling finally returned to his fingers. He rubbed his hands together one last time. Once more unto the breach!
Opening the door again, he jammed his hands deep into the snow. Snow melted on his warm arms, instantly re-freezing as more snow pressed down on him. Oz shivered, pushing deeper into the snow. Frozen ground and ice met his fingers even as they went numb.
At last, he found something hard, hard and almost perfectly round. Oz snatched it out of the snow. A smooth white ball, large enough to fit in the palm of his hand, rolled on the marble floor.
Oz blinked. Is that a pearl? He looked at the snowy realm, surprised.
A cold wind blew. The snow toppled, falling toward him.
Startled, Oz slammed the door shut, pushing the snow back into the realm. He stared at the door for a moment, then shrugged. A mystery for another day. I need to stay focused.
He rubbed his hands to warm them, kneeling to nudge the two stones with his toe. The ordinary pebble sat there, grayish in color. Flat on both sides and rounded on the edges, it had spent a great deal of time in a river at some point in its life.
He turned his attention to the pearl-like stone, nudging it to roll it around. It shone, faint ridges showing the growth of the pearl. Oz’s frown deepened. It’s actually a pearl. A real, huge pearl. Hot damn! That thing would go for money back in my world.
What the hell is a pearl doing in an icy wasteland? How did it end up buried in over six feet of snow? Why… how…
Oz shook his head. He eyed the icy realm’s door. I don’t know that I could find any more stones without stepping into that realm, and I sure don’t want to do that. It’s a bit of a waste, but the mystery pearl is going to have to do.
He picked it up, wincing at the pearl’s coldness, and turned it over in his palm. The enchantment book did say gems and valuable materials hold enchantments better. In a way, I can see this as a godsend. The enchantment is far more likely to succeed, and succeed for longer, with something as valuable as this pearl put up as fodder.
Slipping the pearl and the pebble into his pocket, he returned to the desk and picked up the paper he’d used for the flight spell. But first, practice!
No point wasting my valuable stone and pearl as my first-ever enchantment. Why not start with that flight spell? I have plenty of paper, and it’s easy to write the words down on paper. True, the spell won’t stay enchanted long, enchanted in something as weak as paper with a medium as impermanent as ink, but that’s not the point. I’m not trying to create a flight enchantment. I’m just trying to learn the technique to enchant something.
He checked his list, where he’d already written down flight-related words in a small corner. He grinned. Plus, this way I can check which words work best! All bonuses on my way to refining my enchantment techniques for the possession stones.
Oz carefully wrote the fey language words for ‘fly,’ ‘high,’ ‘float,’ ‘lightweight,’ and ‘sky.’ The organic-looking letters flowed into one another, somewhere between cursive and an overgrowth of vines. He moved over to the window and found a few dust motes, cupping them in the palm of his hand. With that, he held the paper up high.
A passage from the enchantment book appeared before him. Cast the spell as you usually would. At the moment it takes effect, rather than casting it on yourself, transfer the energy into the words set into your medium. If you’ve chosen your words well, the qi will root itself into them. The spell will go dormant; this is expected. You will have to activate the spell with the same amount of qi that you usually would use to cast it. The spell will maintain itself once it is activated with no mental effort required on the caster’s part. Qi will flow through the enchantment medium rather than the caster’s body.
In small text, below the main paragraph, it added, Beware: running more qi through the medium than it can withstand will wear at your medium. Some mediums can only handle a spell once. If the words are blurred or show signs of burning, do not operate the enchantment. The medium may burn out soon. When a medium burns out, the spell may malfunction or backfire, causing potentially cataclysmic damage to the mage using it.
Oz eyed his paper, thinking of those last words, then shrugged. I just handled fey flight without any medium. Even if it goes sideways, I should be able to shunt the excess qi back into the air.
Still, not sure I can do the same to the possession spell, given how it’s more complex and powerful, so it’ll be good to experience it on a weaker spell to know the warning signs.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Taking a deep breath, he began to circulate his qi, focusing on the lightness of the dust motes and the paper once more. Once more, the qi rushed in. Oz directed it toward the paper, pushing the qi towards the words inscribed on that paper. Qi coursed through him, roaring into the paper. He held on for dear life, gritting his teeth against the massive flow. The paper trembled, each word lighting up. ‘Fly’ burned a molten red, bright as the sun, qi rushing into the word and massing under the surface of the paper. ‘Lightweight’ and ‘float’ burned nearly as bright, while ‘sky’ and ‘high’ barely glowed.
The enchantment lurched, almost falling apart. The paper trembled. Its edges curled, the edges near the brightest words blackening, while the paper near the paler words shredded under the force of the qi rushing by them.
Oz grimaced. He pushed the qi toward the less heavy words, but the qi refused, flowing wildly toward the other words. The paper continued to break down, barely holding the qi. Unstoppable qi flowed into the paper, on and on.
I can’t cut it short. All the qi, or none of it, dammit! Oz grabbed on to some of the qi and drew it momentarily through himself, coloring it blue, then pushed it into the paper itself. The wood-elemental qi reinforced the paper, strengthening it. The more he pushed, the more the paper thickened, growing from a sheet to a thin plank of wood. The words continued to glow, burning into the wood, but the wood held it.
The last of the qi slammed into the wood, rocking it back in Oz’s hand. He let a slow breath out, exhausted, and shook out his arms. His qi passages ached, sore almost like overworked muscles, an almost acid pain to the ache. His right arm hurt worse, black veins throbbing. He rubbed his poisoned arm, making a face. Fey magic is heavy duty stuff, and the possession spell is harder than the flight spell. I have to be careful about this. That possession spell is going to wear me out.
But first, let’s see how the flight enchantment worked out!
Words burned deep into the thin wooden plank. Three of the words burned black, dark marks traced all around the letters, as if the wood burner that had cut the words had sat on the letters too long. The other two barely ghosted into the wood, only a little deeper set in the wood than when he’d penned them in.
Oz pressed his lips together. Can’t really call that a success, can we?
Well, let’s see if it works. Can’t call it a failure until it fails. You know, a great many a times, I’ve hacked together a big pile of flaming doo-doo that looked like it should do nothing more than shit out its own innards, but instead, the code works just fine! …at least immediately. But hey, all I need is for this code—ahem, spell, to work for a split second.
Er, might not be true for the possession spell, but hey. This is my ‘hello world’ enchantment. If it stack-dumps qi all over me immediately, it’s fine. As long as it activates!
Oz hefted the wood. He pushed his qi into it. The spell lit. The fey magic ignited, calling out to the qi all around him. Once more, the qi flowed wildly, but this time, Oz was no part of it. A tempest gathered in his hand, pouring into the wooden plank. The wood lit aflame from the sheer friction of it all. Three words seared bright, the last two fading out of the wood.
Oh, shit. Oz threw the plank away from him, straight up into the air. He ducked, covering his head with his robe.
The wood floated for a moment. It fluttered in the air, alight, those three words as bright as stars.
Oz glanced up. Wait. Does that count as a success?
BOOM! The wood exploded. Splinters hurtled everywhere. Oz ducked back under his robe, barely getting it up before the splinters pelted against his shoulders.
Oz hunkered. Is it over?
Wait, hold on! Flaming splinters! He jumped up, looking all around him.
Blue barriers glowed over the surface of the shelves, holding the splinters back. The fire extinguished. A moment later, the barriers vanished, and the splinters dropped to the ground.
Raising his brows, Oz blinked. “Well. Okay. That’s, er, why did that never happen before?”
Why do you think none of your idiot friends ever tried directly attacking the shelves with magic? They have the bare minimum of automatic protection, you fool.
“Oh. Thanks, Fenrir.”
Bugger off. And use the console, next time.
Oz pinched his chin. Why did Fenrir talk to me? Unless, wait. Does he power all the automatic protections in the Library?
Come to think of it, I use the control tattoo to communicate with Fenrir and to activate the Library’s protections. Is that all Fenrir? Is Fenrir the Library’s consciousness?
What did I say? Bugger off. And stop thinking stupid things.
Shrugging, Oz turned away. Guess that one was wrong. It was worth a try. Honestly, Fenrir is probably closer to the Library’s automated self-defense mechanism, except it’s not very automated, since it’s all Fenrir manually doing things.
Typical early automation, secretly human under the hood. Er, jotunn. Same difference.
He looked at the splinters on the ground and twisted his lips. Snatching another dozen pages from the desk and stealing a pen, Oz hurried toward the grassy realm. With a snap of his fingers, he unlocked the door.
Linnea stumbled in. “What’s happening? Why did you lock the door?”
“I’ve been making mistakes. Is the kid bound?”
Linnea looked over her shoulder. A ball of white silk struggled on the ground nearby. “It’s escape training. Good for a young assassin.”
Oz clicked his tongue. He looked at the silk, then looked away. “Indeed. I’m practicing enchantments.”
“For the first time? And you thought you’d do it in the middle of the collection of incredibly delicate, valuable books?”
“Well, after the fey magic thing went so well, I thought it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Wait—fey magic? You were practicing fey magic in there?” Linnea looked him up and down. “And you’re still alive?”
“I mean, yeah? You knew that,” Oz said, squinting at her.
She shook her head. “It’s not possible to learn fey magic that fast. It’s—it’s incredibly finnicky. I thought you were going to faff about uselessly and come running to me in frustration, and then I’d talk you down from attempting to learn how to blow yourself up as quickly as possible, and then—wait.” She gave him a look. “You haven’t exploded. You succeeded?”
Oz cleared his throat. He looked over his shoulder, back toward the lobby where he’d been practicing. He turned back to Linnea, a little apologetic. “Er, yes?”
“Mother fu—what are you?” She leaned in, sniffing hard. Her nose wrinkled, and she backed away, pushing him from her. “I swear. It’s just not possible. No one can cast fey magic that quickly. Not even the fey!”
“No?”
Linnea grimaced, gritting her teeth. She tilted her head ambiguously. “Probably. Fey aren’t exactly fond of demons.”
Oz gave her a look. “Anyways, why are you sniffing me? Aren’t spiders sight hunters?”
“I’ve looked at you a lot, and I don’t know what the hell you are. Sniffing seemed like the best next step.”
“Fair enough. In any case, I was thinking, it might be better to practice outside, rather than in. You know. Delicate and valuable books, and all that. Er, do you mind?” He gestured past Linnea.
“Oh, sure. Come on out.” Linnea stepped out of the way to let Oz pass through.
Oz saluted. “You want to come in?”
“Nah. I want to watch you. Whatever you’re doing sounds like lots of bullshit, and I want to see it happen.” Linnea stepped back, crossing her arms.
Oz licked his lips. He tilted his head, just a smidge. “As you wish, then.” As he crossed the threshold, he snapped his fingers.
The World Door swung shut.
That one’s on the house. Use your qi next time, brat.
“Thank you, Fenrir!”
Oz tapped the papers against his hand. Lifting the other one, he summoned the fey language dictionary.
And now, time for everyone’s favorite part of enchantment. Dictionary searching!
Gods. I need to make a rainbow table for this bullshit.