Mark tried to hide his internal panic over Naomi’s words by playing it dumb. “The Fog of Chaos? What’s that?”
Naomi’s jaw dropped theatrically.
“How can you not know what the Kaos Dimma is!” she exclaimed. “Children know. ‘Circle, circle, throw the leaves, into the pile and nobody leaves?’ You didn’t play that game as a child?”
“You can’t rhyme ‘leaves’ with ‘leaves.’”
“The poetic structure of a children’s song isn’t the point!” she half-shouted. “It’s…it’s the Kaos Dimma! The product of a millennia-old war, where magic was wielded on such a colossal level and for such a long time that it tore at the raw structure of the universe? That doesn’t sound familiar?”
Of course, it sounded familiar. Mark had witnessed the very event Naomi was describing through the eyes of a long-dead mercenary. It was a memory that haunted him to this day.
“I’m a provincial buffoon; I have a different educational background than you,” he said, deflecting the question.
Naomi took a deep breath, then let it out slowly before continuing as though she were educating a small child. “You see, Mark, there is Order, and there is Chaos. Order, good. Chaos, bad. Order gives us a universe to live in, Chaos tries to tear it down. It has been that way since the universe was born, but Order has always won. Yaaay! But, oh no! When the ley line at the Kaos Dimma was ruptured, the ensuing flux of mana was so wild and unrestrained that it expressed itself as unmitigated Chaos. Nooo! Bad Chaos, bad! Thousands were killed or had their Tomes torn out of them, and many of the mages who got away had their Tomes damaged so badly that they were never able to cast again.”
Rubbing her temples, Naomi said in a normal voice, “Remind me again how you don’t know this story?”
“I just don’t, alright!” Mark snapped, panic over her description of Chaos causing him to go on the offensive. “Don’t get mad at me for not knowing, okay? I’m not from Palmyre, and I’m not from some well-to-do background, okay? We grew food, people ate it, then tomorrow came. Magic wasn’t part of my education.”
NEW GENERAL SKILL LEARNED!
Lying to Others – Skill Level 8 (Tier-0)
Yep, lies of omission count too. I know, I know, you didn’t share everything with your folks, but that was different. Now you’re gonna ask, “How’s it different?” Well, if I knew, I wouldn’t have this job, would I? I just follow the guidelines, man.
*Since this Skill predates your arrival in Arenia, it has been set at a level commensurate with the practical ability you already blah blah blah…Seriously, I’m going to firebolt myself if I have to keep writing this. It’s too much! Ugh. I’m going to talk to the others and see if we can come up with something shorter. I mean…who even uses the word commensurate?
400 XP Earned (cumulative)
The notification appeared inside his palm where it couldn’t be seen, which was good. Apparently, his Tome was smart enough not to tip Naomi off to his deception. Good thing, too, because the woman had stiffened at his words, and while he suspected she knew something was amiss, his sharply worded response at least caused her to stop questioning his lack of knowledge.
“Okay,” she said, steadying herself. “I’m going to move past that inexplicable gap in your knowledge, hard as it is to believe.”
“Thank you,” he said, taking the small victory for what it was. “Now, what does the fog have to do with magic? Do people draw on it as a power source or something?”
That pretty much ended Naomi’s attempts at moderation.
“Are you insane!” she shouted. “I can’t imagine what would happen if someone tried that. Tear themselves into a bloody paste, most likely.”
“Okay, okay! I get it. Not good times,” he said, waving his hands. “Then what’s the deal with the fog and the ley lines? It’s not exactly an intuitive connection.”
“Yes, the ‘deal with the fog’ is that it stabilizes the ley line that passes through it,” she said. “It has always been understood that the global fluctuations of the ley lines are an expression of ambient chaos. That theory is supported by the fact that to the south of the fog, where the ley line enters, it moves around so frantically that spellcasting would be sheer lunacy. North of the fog, however, it exists in a state of near perfection. It is as though the fog is a lodestone for chaos, stripping the ley line of the chaos distorting it and leaving it pristine. It does start wobbling again soon after leaving the fog, increasing steadily as it flows away from the Kaos Dimma, but even with that small variance, the ley line that passes through Palmyre is the most stable one on Arenia.”
Mark nodded, his face impassive while his mind freaked out like a motorcyclist who just went over the handlebars and hadn’t hit the ground yet.
He was in some serious shit. He needed to get hold of his magic now. Unless that’s what this evil, universe-destroying Chaos entity wanted, in which case maybe it was best for everyone if he just strapped himself to a huge rock and walked into the ocean.
“Okay, question,” he said, trying to prod more information from her without revealing his internal freakout. “Do the ley line movements affect magic users differently based on their type? I’m wondering if there’s something about moving to Palmyre that could have triggered my magic.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Naomi considered the question, putting her chin in one hand and tapping her lip as she thought about it. “That’s an interesting question. At first blush, I’d say yrg bleth mworph…”
Mark swore internally as Naomi’s words descended into the gibberish of a seizure. He unconsciously reached out and dumped the threads of resonance into the smooth wooden staff at his side, only realizing what he’d done when Naomi’s face exploded with shock.
It was a blunt reminder that, at times, he could really be a complete fucking idiot.
The woman stared at the fading glow of the staff as he pulled his hand away, her eyes tracing the writhing threads of shifting rainbow light as they disappeared from both the wood of the staff and the flesh of Mark’s forearm.
“What,” Naomi said, pointing at the staff, “was that?”
Mark looked at the staff and then back at Naomi, his mind racing for an explanation that would quell her curiosity. Something simple and concise that would cleanly move them past the issue.
“I found it in the woods,” he said, mentally slapping himself.
“You ‘found’ a magical artifact in the woods,” she deadpanned.
He thought about it for a moment. “Believe it or not, that’s more or less true.” Light on details, but still accurate.
Naomi nodded her head. “Pretending for the moment that that’s a reasonable response, could you at least give me a clearer picture of the location? It is a rather large forest.”
“Um, I don’t think I could say where exactly I—”
“For the love of the gods,” she snapped, standing up abruptly and looking down at him. “You don’t trust me. You’ve made that abundantly clear with this string of ridiculous protestations that you don’t know basic facts about magic. But sooner or later you will have to tell me something if you want help. For instance, were you able to use magic before finding the staff, or did that only start after it came into your possession?”
It wasn’t a question he wanted to answer, but her patience with his secrets was clearly approaching empty. “After. Definitely after.”
She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “And you didn’t think that fact might be related to your unusual class?” Shaking her head, she reached out her hand and said, “Give it to me.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Give it to me. I want to look at it.”
He hesitated, and she rolled her eyes in response. “It’s just a look. I’m not going to run out of here with it. It’s not like the thing has a Tome I can analyze.” She peered at him closely. “Unless it does, in which case I am definitely going to steal it.”
Mark picked up the staff. There was one microsecond where he panicked over the idea that the staff might have a Tome—he had sucked a spectre into it, after all—but ultimately decided to let her see it.
As soon as he handed over the staff, Naomi settled into a detailed investigation of every inch of the wood. Not just the knots and sharpened tip, but also the butt end of it, commenting with some interest that there was no visible wear despite repeated impact with the cobblestone streets. It wasn’t something Mark had noticed, but it didn’t surprise him either.
“How do you activate it?” she asked.
“I don’t. It glows when I touch it, but I don’t know if I’d call that ‘activating’ it.”
“Interesting. And do you use it in your spellcasting?”
A bit of a loaded question, so Mark took his time framing his answer. “I guess so, but it’s more like the staff acts as an intermediary. The power comes from me, ultimately. The staff is just where I stash the magic.”
She stared at him. “You ‘stash’ magic in a staff?”
He shrugged.
“I guess I’ve heard of stranger things,” she muttered as she bounced the staff in her palms, testing the weight. She peered at him, then unleashed a smile so utterly enchanting that his heart nearly stopped. “I don’t suppose you would be willing to let me take a detailed look at your Tome?”
“Absolutely not,” he answered, barely warding off the woman’s towering Charisma. It was one thing to make his heart skip; it was another to make him go temporarily insane.
Willpower +1
Holy cow…that may be the first time I’ve ever heard of someone’s Charisma being so low that it helped them get a Willpower bump. You may be pathetic, but at least you’re the best at it!
Her face fell, and she sighed. “I thought not. Tomes are a private thing, so I don’t hold it against someone for saying no. Maybe one day we’ll have that level of trust, but until then, everyone is entitled to their secrets.”
“Unless you can find them out on your own,” Mark noted.
“You remember that, do you?” she said, utilizing one of her normal smiles. “Don’t worry. If you’re secretly some powerful magic user, I don’t want to get on your bad side.”
“I don’t have a bad side, just a good and better side.”
Mark’s eyes widened in shock at the words that had just come out of his mouth. He couldn’t recall ever saying something like that, and as much as he knew it was the product of being sandblasted by Naomi’s Charisma, he still felt his face flush with heat. It didn’t help that the woman was now staring at him, mouth open.
“Oh, my gods, that was terrible,” she said, laughing.
Charisma +1
That was the most cringeworthy thing I have ever been forced to witness. Please, I implore you, don’t ever try to be clever around a woman again.
Naomi peered at him. “Did you honestly get a Charisma bump for that? Right after a Willpower increase?”
“How did you know?” Mark asked in surprise.
She raised her eyebrow as though inviting him to work it out. Which he did in short order.
“Oh yeah, right. The whole, ‘I get to see all of your stats when I inspect you’ thing. Do you just inspect people non-stop?”
“It comes in handy, from time to time,” she said.
It seemed like it would be annoying as hell, but Mark kept that to himself. “Okay, times up,” he said, waving at the staff.
Naomi frowned but handed it back to him, the lines lighting up and resumed their tracing as soon as his skin made contact. He could tell from the look on her face that she was itching to inspect the weapon while in its “powered on” state but was holding off for now.
“You’re going to keep this a secret, right?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “Though you probably want to find better gloves than the ones you wore to the Mage’s College. Those abominations are almost as suspicious as your glowing staff.
“No kidding,” he muttered in assent. “Anyway, now that you’ve seen a bit of what I’m about, do you think you can help? More importantly, do you still want to help?”
“Are you joking?” she said. “A mystery like you? You’re not getting rid of me that easily. We’ve barely scratched the surface. No. There is something extremely odd going on with your Tome, and what kind of eṉakkumancer would I be if I walked away now?”
Mark let out a breath of relief. As long as Naomi was actively working with him, she had no incentive to turn him in.
“I’m glad to hear it. What’s our next step?” he asked.
“Now I get to scour the college library looking for information,” she said. “Maybe perform a ritual or two. I’ll have to do it in secret, though. The fewer people who know about this the better, so I might need your sister’s help.”
“Angela?” Mark said in surprise. “How does she figure into all this?”
She looked at him in utter confusion. “Your sister is a druid. Of course, I’d need her assistance in performing a ritual. How could you have all these questions about magic without ever talking to your sister?”
Once more, Mark’s ignorance of all things Arenia had caused him to put his foot in his mouth. It was rapidly becoming his signature move, and he quietly wished for something to happen that would distract Naomi from his blunder.
Unfortunately, his wish was granted.