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Mira crashed through the dimensional bridge as her spell-form sigil and its physical anchor merged. When the light faded, she was in her tower's atrium. She ran towards the entry vestibule, the magical equivalent of a medieval murder hole. She had keyed the wards to always accept Pip with guest privileges, but the Regent’s words gave her cause to doubt.
She cycled Qi into her wrist tattoo. The enchanted tattoo converted her internal Qi energy into external Akasic energy. A telekinetic push slammed open the door between the vestibule and the atrium. Her old friend, Pip Tintagle, was on his back in the entryway covered in huge ghostly chains. His little gnomish legs were the only part of him visible as he mewled in terror and pain. The spectral chains weren’t technically cold, but their drain of living qi certainly felt like it.
“Reggie, you son of a bitch. Hold on Pip! I’ve got you!” Mira yelled, hurrying into the room. When she took control of the Tower’s shade, she had gained significant power over his magic as well. It took her less than a second to find the spell forms runic trigrams and snip the mana lines. As the chains faded; Pip crab-walked back, still clearly terrified looking at her.
“Pip! Damn Fae curse again. Pip, it’s me! Mira! Remember me? Please. Calm Pip.” Mira said with urgency but kept it low and as calm as she could. Finally, she saw the spark of recognition in Pip’s expression, and he responded.
“Mira! On my goodness, we need to get out of here. What are you doing here? A skeletal revenant attacked me! We must flee immediately.” Pip bounced up on his little legs and ran to her, grabbing her sleeve he tried to pull her to the exit. Mira resisted and grabbed his arms.
“Pip, slow down. No need to worry. I’ve taken care of that naughty skeleton. This is my home now. I know that you may have trouble believing it, but I took control of this Tower over three years ago.” Mira said patiently, holding Pip and resisting his ongoing attempts to run.
“What? How? But…skeletons and …chains. Three years? Mira, I’m so confused.” The gnome's bushy eyebrows and beard quivered in confusion and still a little fear despite her reassurances.
Mira took her time, slowly calming Pip down. She had first met Pip Tintagle years ago during her Novice induction to the Imperial Arcanum. They had bonded as they were both part of the select few who had the mage sight early, capable of seeing the flows of Akasic and Faen energy and the wonder of the natural formations of mana sigils that occurred when casting spells. They had maintained contact for years after they both left the academy. Now they worked together by finding, creating, and most importantly selling magical items.
When his panic finally subsided, she escorted him to the comfortable sitting area outside of her study. In the time she took to calm Pip and to convince him to come inside, Tiamat had beat them back to the study. She was back in dragonette form and in a bad mood about being left behind in the treasury. She circled her pile of gold twice and lay down on it with a huff.
“Here we are, Pip. Nice and safe. See over there, you remember Tiamat, right?” Mira asked.
“Why don’t you go sit in a chair by the fire? I’ll get us some of that fine Gnomish brandy we drank at our last meeting,” she said and turned to the cabinet with its selection of special drinks for her infrequent guests.
Pip stumbled over to the fine leather chairs near the fire. Still shaken and recovering from his ordeal, he accidentally kicked the edge of Tiamat’s gold pile and scattered some of her coins across the floor. Tiamat hissed like a cat and the gnome fell back in fright into the nearest chair.
“Quit that, Tiamat! Act like a big dragon now and stop being so catty. He didn’t do it on purpose.” Mira said, striding quickly to the sitting nook. Mira was followed by three drinks, floating magically after her. She sat down and the drinks floated and landed within reach for everyone. Tiamat loved the gnomish spiced brandy, and perched on a flagon that was bigger than her. Both Pip and Tiamat sipped quickly and Mira took a sip herself as well. The brandy got better every time it was sampled. She needed to convince Pip to get her a steady supply.
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“My runes and sigils, Mira! I still don’t understand what’s going on.” Pip complained after several hurried droughts of the brandy.
“Very well, Pip. The short story is that I’ve been cursed by a very tenacious Fae glamour, a Divine scale casting of forgetfulness. I should print out a pamphlet to explain this, as I’ve had to explain to everyone far too many times over the years.” Mira said. Inhaling deeply and blurted out the very abbreviated story for the hundredth time.
“After I left school, I was dragged into that Game of Power that the gods inflicted upon the realm. I found all the keys to the city of gods and played their game. I won the contest. Instead of giving the Celestial Crown to my sponsor and making her the Queen of the Gods; I took it for myself. Knowing the gods wouldn't stand for a mortal ruling over them, I got the things I needed to do done quickly and then forced the Fae First Folk to do a major casting. They made the world forget what I had done. Because the spell was made by the whole pantheon even the gods themselves forgot about my time ruling.” Mira said in a rush.
“Unfortunately, like everything with the Fae, I got what I wanted with a twist. Nobody remembers me. Ever. Once I leave someone's sight, they forget about me. Over and over.” Mira finished exasperated. The gnome looked thoughtful then slowly replied.
“Hmm, that explains quite a lot. But....I came here looking for you, didn't I? No, that's not quite right, not you. It was like a compulsion…. Bibi’s blue balls! You cast a Geas on me, didn’t you?!?” Pip exclaimed.
“At your suggestion, Pip. It normally works out with much less drama. Reggie was being a bit melodramatic today. We’re planning a trip and I think he’s upset about it.” Mira said with a grimace.
“Fizzlefuddle! This is intolerable Mira; we must do something about this!” Pip exclaimed. Mira stared him down and spoke with replied, with resignation.
“I’ve been living it for years now, Pip. It’s not that bad. Once I reach out to my friends, they remember me quickly enough.” She said with a shy smile.
“I need to research this. Faen magic is not amenable to normal Akasic methods. Maybe if you write me a note, I’ll be able to remember and work on this?” Pip said, still thinking hard.
“We tried it already, Pip. This casting was a universal forgetting imposed on the very fabric of the entire realm. It erases notes. It erases pictures. It even clouds memories stored in crystals. It’s ok. I’m fine. Unless you want to challenge the new pantheon of gods to reverse it, I’m stuck with this.” Mira laughed sadly, not for herself, but for Pip’s obvious frustration.
“Come on. Enough. I’ve come to grips with this long ago. Your mysterious business partner, whom you can’t recall any details about, is here now and waiting to complete some business with you. Let’s see what you’ve got for me, yes?” Mira said with a smile. As she saw the avaricious gleam in his eyes, she knew she had broken him out of the negativity loop.
It’s okay to take the Wah-mbulance to Pity City for a visit, but you don’t want to live there. She thought to herself, firm in her desire to stay positive.
This last gig would see her to the end of this road anyway, one way or the other. Although, she had no intention of sharing that with Pip. He was an NPC and wouldn't understand. She smiled as Pip started with the least of their business and unrolled his travel case full of categorized rare magic gems.
After a long haggling and horse-trading session for their trades of unique magic devices, the pair settled back into their comfortable chairs. Mira had gained some awesome materials, some requested and some unexpected from Pip. Meanwhile, he purchased from Mira her specialty, enchanted devices of exceeding cleverness and power. Again, some had been commissioned and some were surprises. Both were happy with their take and now needed to take a break.
A shadowy hand nudged Pip’s elbow and a voice reminiscent of claws on a chalkboard grated out, “Another. Brandy. Sir?”
Pip’s surprise was complete as he screamed and flailed to escape the phantom, who was unexpectedly beside him offering him a drink. He ended up crashing through the table with all the trade goods and landing in Tiamat’s gold pile. Tiamat had latched onto the poor gnome’s head as he rolled around and finally into the fire, knocking himself senseless when he collided with the hearth. Thankfully the fire was an illusion, and no one was hurt…much.
Reginald, the Regent of Shadows, and long-deceased former master of the Haunted Tower of Thallesadra, was totally not grinning under his cowl.
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