“Okay, to be clear, you possess a unique magic subtype, you used it, and people recognized it as unique.”

“Yes.”

“And this magic is derived from eternal interdimensional creatures, the mere sight of which is enough to drive people mad.”

“Yes.”

“And it may or may not be influencing your actions?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’m with you so far. Actually, not at all, but I’m willing to believe you. Now, why did you donate all the money “to orphans?” Lydia asked, wearing a patient expression, while suppressing a twitch that developed over the course of my story.

“I don’t know. I was just trying to get out there. I needed to say something.”

“Did you though?”

I paused for a few beats “...Oh… shit.”

Lydia ate the last bite of her yakston eggs and placed down her fork.

“You are taking this better than I thought you would.” I said.

“I keep reminding myself that you're a filthy cheater and regular rules do not apply. If I had an appropriate reaction to everything you told me, I would never have time for anything else. It would just be hours of me staring at you, slack jawed, and glassy eyed. Failing to comprehend how you manage to walk around witho-”

“Okay, I get it.”

She smiled. “We need to do some damage control.”

“No, we need to get you to a doctor. There was something seriously wrong with us, and you do not have my constitution.”

Lydia opened her mouth to protest, then stopped. She paused for a moment, cleared her throat and said, “Thank you.”

I grinned. “After all, without you, who would scold me for not being omniscient?”

“You had to ruin the moment.”

“There was a moment?”

“Fucking deranged hermit.”

“You just can’t comprehend my Eldritch glory.”

“I might. Listening to you does make me feel insane.”

****************************************

After finishing breakfast and getting directions from the front desk, we headed to the compound of the Kantarian Healers.

We were outside for no longer than 5 minutes when we passed a billboard featuring a video of Goliath strolling towards Jax, effortlessly dissipating fireballs. There was text on the bottom that read: New Magic? Find out how this will affect you inside this morning's Daily Dibellian!

Lydia looked over, while I rubbed the back of my neck, expecting her to tease me about my undercover skills.

“You had to have the fight when I couldn’t see it.”

“Seriously, that’s your biggest concern?”

“No, but then at least I would have gotten something out of it.”

“You’re a maniac.”

Lydia shrugged.

We walked further. In stark contrast to the day before, we passed through progressively more and more upscale neighborhoods. Eventually, we arrived at a market. Stalls were set up surrounding a large open plaza. In the center stood a wooden platform. At the front of the stage was a rather slimy looking man wearing a seersucker suit. A row of downcast looking men and women stood behind him.

‘Huh, I wonder what’s- wait, is that what I fucking think it is?’

I grabbed Lydia’s arm and pulled her close.

I attempted to whisper, “is this a fucking slave market!”

She turned to me, “Well… indentures, but yes.”

“What's the difference!?!?”

“There are strict rules and regulations governing the contractual magic used to bind them. All of which must be voluntarily entered into and approved by the national authorities.”

“Contractual magic?”

“Well, contractual magic isn’t actually magic. It's a skill that becomes available when someone reaches level 7 in legal knowledge and level 5 in their magic skill. At that time, they can produce contracts that magically bind people.

My anger faded into concern. “Oh, fuck. I think I signed one of those at the Arena.”

Lydia burst out laughing, generating stares from the crowd. I raised an eyebrow.

“Contract magic is sustained via Mana Cores. Binding the contract drafter is free. However, binding the contractee is not. The more onerous the terms and greater the level of the contractee, the more cores it requires, and it scales exponentially. Places like the arena have a magic conduit to a storage area that houses the cores, so the process is automatic… I cannot even venture a guess as to how many cores it would take to bind you to even something as simple as a one night arena contract.” She continued to giggle.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I stood stunned, unable to comprehend how casual Lydia was about this. I know I shouldn’t have been surprised. Slavery was a feature of Earth society more or less everywhere until the 19th century, and it still existed in some places when I died. But seeing it here, especially in a world where the chains were magic…

“And you all think this is acceptable?”

“Well, not everyone, but it's usually criminals working off a sentence or self indenture, so-”

“Yes, I’m sure the people who sell themselves are blessed with an abundance of options.”

Lydia cocked her head. “I’m not sure I’ve seen you this worked up before.”

“They’re fucking slavers. Of course I’m worked up.”

“Well, unless you want to go on a killing spree, it's just how things are.”

“...”

Her eyes opened wide. “You can’t be serious.”

I thought for a moment and sighed. “Let’s go before I do something stupid.”

“We’d better hurry.”

***********************************

We arrived at a grouping of several towers connected in the center by a squat cylinder. Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Exactly the same as in Markset, right down to the same shade of marble.”

“Your world is big on uniformity, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I swear everyone is cursed with a terminal lack of creativity. Ruins are so varied, but modern architecture. Meh.”

Lydia paused as we reached the door, hesitant. She turned to me, her bravado dropped. She whispered, “what if it's something serious?”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Remember, I am a filthy cheater.”

Lydia smiled back. “Rules Avoidance Specialist.”

“Oh right. How could I forget?”

We entered, and an attendant ushered us into a private room. As Lydia had said at Magum’s, this was a VIP service, and we were treated as such. While I sat, Lydia paced.

Eventually, a stout gnome entered the room. He greeted us warmly, and asked me to step outside. Lydia interjected that she’d prefer I stay. The doctor made a note on his chart and asked her to explain the problem.

She explained her symptoms: the mood swings and irritability, yesterday’s sudden onset of mania, followed by weakness and malaise. The doctor asked Lydia to follow him for some tests. I stood to come along as well, but was told to wait—the equipment and magic involved were delicate, and my presence could undermine them.

So, I sat, stewing in worry. My chest tightened and my pulse quickened. I thought back to all those idiotic mindfulness trainings that my school made us do for professional development. The ones that took the place of actual professional development.

‘Couldn’t hurt.’

I closed my eyes and focused on my breath, imagining its path: entering my nose, moving down into my lungs, and leaving out through the mouth. Anytime another thought intruded, I tried to set it aside and focus on my breath. I did this for a few minutes, and it began to help.

Congratulations, You have unlocked the Skill: Meditation.

Meditation: Skill governing the ability to think deeply or focus one's mind for a period of time. Current Rank (1/10).

Skill detected, “Autodidact,” would you like to transfer 100 experience points to level Meditations? Y/N.

‘Fuck!’ I waited for something to go wrong. However, no problem arose. I remained in control. While the skill would certainly come in handy in the future, I wasn’t so stupid as to raise anything at the moment.

I stopped the breathing exercises, lest I accidentally gain another level. So I sat there, agitated.

Eventually, Lydia returned and sat next to me. We waited there for a half hour, attempting our normal banter, but neither of our hearts were in it. Finally, the doctor entered, wearing a serious expression.

“So there is good news and bad news. Physically, you're in great condition: your organ function is normal and free of infection. However, when we ran tests on your soul and Mana Core, we got some unusual results… I understand it may be embarrassing, but I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything. So, please be honest. Have you been under the effects of any high level magic? Perhaps drinking alchemical potions of a dubious nature or interacting with any ancient devices?

“No. Nothing that I could think of.” Lydia lied, covering for me.

The doctor eyed her skeptically. “Your soul has a scarring pattern that I’ve only ever read about. Are you familiar with essence channels?”

“No.”

“Okay, when essence from skill ups enters the body, it moves in through specialized conduits called essence channels. These have a very high capacity and serve to prevent soul damage by distributing essence evenly throughout the body. You appear to have taken in far too much essence far too quickly. Now, it is extraordinarily difficult for this to occur, but there is some precedent. There have been nobles who, for lack of a better description, fed their children primordial skill stones. The essence in those overwhelmed their channels, leaking power into their physical bodies, causing excessive energy, delusions of grandeur, mood swings, agitation, and risk taking behaviors. Sometimes, it reached a point where it outright killed the children. However, once the symptoms resolve, that risk vanishes with it.

Lydia gulped and nodded.

So, fortunately, you are past the stage where it could be life threatening. However, there is another problem. Your essence channels, despite not bursting, have been stretched well outside the normal range. In fact, the damage is so extensive they should have deteriorated entirely. The only reason they haven’t is that there is some kind of taint in the channels. I’ve never actually seen it before. At first, I thought it was the source of the problem. However, as I looked closer, the taint seems to be the only thing holding your channels together. For now, you’re stable, but if the condition worsens, the channels could collapse entirely.

Lydia sat silent. Time passed. “And would that kill me?”

“No, but you would no longer be able to gain skill levels.

Lydia deflated entirely, sinking into her chair.

“Don’t lose heart entirely. There is a treatment. An elixir called Dragons’ Solace can repair the damage. Unfortunately, one ingredient is incredibly hard to source: snargrass. It only grows in fields where fire mana, ice mana, and gigantic quantities of human blood mixed. I’ll look into finding it, but it's typically either sold out or otherwise unavailable in normal channels.”

My ears perked up at the phrasing. “In normal channels you say… how about abnormal ones?

The doctor leaned in conspiratorially and lowered his voice. “That may prove more fruitful, not that I could ever consider that myself.”

The way he said that reminded me of something. Someone else had used the same type of rhetorical technique recently…

‘Oh right.’

“I may know a guy.”

*********************************

Magum thought back to yesterday’s encounter, expecting the worst. He prayed his life of peaceful experimentation would not, once again, be disrupted. However, he had made that prayer enough times before to know that no one was listening.

He finished prying open the lid and began to unpack the contents. After removing the top layer, he stopped in shock.

‘How the fuck would Snargrass get mixed in with Pufferfly extract?’

He wondered for only a moment before it clicked.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he shouted at an empty store. Magum slammed the lid on the table. They both shattered.

Sighing, he began to clean the mess. The store needed to look presentable. After all, he was about to have company.