Chapter 50: Success (of a sort), Tequila, and Success!

[Fresh-Barrier, (prairie rose)] scroll; minor, common quality, single-use, variable 1. (when invoked, a minor [barrier] will separate a defined space, blocking heat {variable intensity determined by intent} from crossing, simultaneously emitting a predetermined scent {prairie rose}. Max. [barrier] area, 4m x 4m; Cast time, instant; duration, 24 hours {effect may be turned on and off, cumulative duration.}) 1.2. Crafted by Jasper Bookmyer, Apprentice.

Bonded by…[error]*

Finally! It had taken me a dozen attempts—twelve parchments up in smoke; profit margin brutally cut—but I’d done it. I wondered how much that 10% bonus from my title helped.

//Uh, 10%?//

‘Captain obvious.’

Smokey vapors still collected among the rafters of our attic workshop, the smell permeating everything—including Tak.

“Ack-huff…” she coughed, her burning glare blistering the back of my head.

“Workshop, remember?” I wasn’t going to let anything dampen my excitement.

“I live here, Book.”

“Yeah, for free.”

“Trust me, putting up with your failures is payment enough.”

“So, consider this month’s rent paid.” Not gonna get to me, not tonight.

We were still in Miss Kessel’s attic, over her warehouse, and Tak was still squatting there. The renovation of Maldyn's--uncle's--building would have to wait for the season to change. I’d thought having someone loitering near me would have detrimentally affected my work—besides Master Alric, that is—but it turns out I kinda liked the company. Who’d ’a thought? Maybe I wasn’t a natural loner, but more a product of circumstances. Sort of a nature vs. nurture thing.

//Your personality vs. people wanting to be around you?//

‘Shut it…but probably ‘yes’.’

Assuming you weren’t worth friendship gives off an aura, I’m sure. I am done with that bovine-feces.

“Nothing to do but try it. You stay over there, Tak, and I’ll invoke it between us.”

“Sure. Scent towards me; I could do with a break from the stench.”

“Just for that; no.” I grinned. I was in control of the scroll, after all.

I snapped the scroll open with a flourish, looked down my nose at Tak with all the arrogance I could muster, and invoked.

The ink on the scroll flashed through the parchment—I never get tired of that—and I willed a [barrier] between us, wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling. Our space was small enough for the [barrier] to completely separate us. A faint shimmer of [mana] appeared, swirled, and faded to almost clear. There was the tiniest distortion, like a cheap pane of glass of sub-par manufacture.

Sniff-sniff.

The scent was faint. So faint, I really had to concentrate to smell it. WTF? The ink gave off more prairie rose than I could detect now. What had I done wrong? I walked closer to the barrier, and the closer I got the more the answer clarified for me.

I put my nose right up against the [barrier], snuffing in a big ol’ whiff. Yup, it was like burring my face in a bouquet. I had scented the actual [barrier], which, OK, made some sense. It was like writing on a piece of paper with a scented marker. The smell was there, but it didn’t [freshen] the room like I had anticipated.

//You ass-umed//

‘You know, help is worth more than snark.’

//Hold your ‘help’ in one hand, shit in the other. See which fills up first//

‘By that logic, your personality—snark—is shit.’

//What? No, that’s not…//

‘Your words, not mine, so suck it.’

“Well?’ Tak asked. “Nothing happening over here.”

“There shouldn’t be if it worked right.”

“Yeah, ‘if’. Did it work on your side? By your face, I’d say that was a resounding ‘no’.”

I waggled a hand at her. “Yes; and no. Try something for me, will you?” She did that single eyebrow lift oh so well. Still jealous, and I’m not going to admit to practicing it in the mirror. ‘And neither are you, Sia.’ I tossed a rolled-up scroll to her, which she snagged out of the air with barely a look. Her adventurer reflexes were certainly on point. I knew she worked hard at it. “Invoke that [heat] scroll, as high as it will go, then slowly start walking to the [barrier]. I want to make sure that part works well, at least.”

She did as I asked, coming closer and closer to where I stood on the other side of the [mana] curtain. Nothing. I felt no change in temperature, at all. Not even when Tak placed the scroll milliliters away from touching the border.

“Give it all it’s got,” I told my somewhat reluctant helper.

She did, the scroll flaring with [heat] until it disintegrated into ash. That was a week's worth of potential [heat], let loose at once and going up in smoke. She cursed, shaking her hand and then sucking on the tips of her fingers.

“Mother’s Bark, Book! That hurt.”

Yeah, she was legitimately angry. My bad.

“Sorry about that, but sacrifices must be made for progress.”

//wow, that was pompous, even for…”

‘You…?’

//Guilty//

“Eat bark, Book.”

Oh cool! A new swear; I mentally added it to my growing list of elven curses.

“Sorry, Tak. Really. But it works! I didn’t feel a thing, even when it burst.”

“Bully for you." Tess would have exclaimed, 'That's what she said'. "I’m going to have a grand time [enchant]ing cloth tomorrow. I got blisters, man!”

“Eh, nothing some healing salve won’t fix.” I pulled out the small tin of the stuff I always carried around nowadays, and tossed it to her. Her burns couldn’t be that bad; she caught the salve with her ‘burned’ hand.

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“Not your fingers,” she mumbled under her breath. Loud enough for me to hear, of course.

“Wah-wah, I thought you were tough.” I hurriedly backed away, safe from retribution. I got off with a stern look.

I sat down at my beloved desk with the mannequin leg—yes, you heard me right, I’ve become attached to the oddity. I had Paytin looking out for any more of the…specialized…furniture. No luck, yet, but I had hopes.

“I think I can fix this. I just need to add some motion to the scent, maybe a breeze. Say, a 'gentle summer’s breeze'.

//Dude, cheap joke. You should be ashamed//

‘Always. And never.’

My stomach grumbled at me, and I checked the time on my HUD. It was after seven o’clock, way past my dinner time. I could think better after a good meal, so…

“Hey, Tak? Hungry?”

“Sure. I can always eat.”

How all the women in my life could eat like they did and still look like they did always amazed me.

//You’re dangerously close to crossing a line//

I winced. Sia was right; some habits needed to be quashed.

‘Sorry, as usual.’

“What do you think about grabbing us some food, while I keep working on this?”

“You paying?”

Who, me? Not likely, but I wasn’t likely to ask her.

“I would say this falls under ‘business expenses’, don’t you? We are working.”

She gave me an ear-to-ear smile. “Kabobs with rice?”

“Two portions, if you please. I think better on a full stomach. For the business.”

“For the business,” she parroted.

I tossed her a small cloth purse, one we kept hidden in a false-bottom desk drawer Magali had rigged up for the purpose. It held our cumulative capital.

“Back soon,” she said, grabbing a heavy winter cloak before heading out the door. A gust of wind, decorated with light snow flurries, forced its way in, abruptly cutting off as she slammed the door after her.

Winter wasn’t coming; it was here. Burrr.

The weather was mild so far, and from the talk it usually stayed that way. A far cry from the snow season in Boulder, Colorado. I’m glad I’d bought a set of winter robes from Tak—her father, anyway—and even gladder of the heavy discount she’d gotten me. Another chunk of my shares gone.

//Seriously? You are using the weather to procrastinate; cliche much?//

Busted. Don’t forget, genius breeds distraction.

//Shut it//

Fine. Back to it.

----------------------------------------

I worked through the night, knowing I would pay for it in the morning, but I couldn’t stop. I was on a roll, firmly in its grasp. Was it worth it?

Well…

*Ding!*

*Ding!*

*Ding!*

*[Fresh-Barrier, (prairie rose)] scroll; minor, common quality, single-use, variable->[Fresh Breeze-Barrier, (prairie rose)] scroll; minor, common quality, single-use, variable 1. (When invoked, a minor [barrier] will separate a defined space, blocking heat {variable intensity determined by intent} from crossing, simultaneously emitting a predetermined scent {prairie rose} that gently wafts away from the [barrier] on a light breeze of [mana]. Max. [barrier] area, 4m x 4m; Cast time, instant; duration, 24 hours {effect may be turned on and off, cumulative duration.}) 1.2. Crafted by Jasper Bookmyer, Apprentice.

Bonded by…[error]*

Yes! Not only did I succeed—only wasting another three parchments (//fifteen, in total//) and a night’s sleep—but that was two *Dings!* ago.

‘Why didn’t I get one for the first version?’

//Because I know you, and that you wouldn’t settle. It took a ton of processing power, but I managed to hold it back until now//

‘Well, thank you. I think. Is this going to make the headache worse?’

//Oh, yes, *gr!n*//

‘Crap. At least you recognized my persistence as a [Scrivener]. And you are glitching again.’

//What of it?//

Whoa, I’d never heard Sia so defensive.

//That much processing on the spur of the moment is the same as you downing a bottle of tequila, eating the worm, and then giving it all back in one massive purge//

‘What I hear, is that if you are forewarned and prepared, then you could put all that power into something other than being an ass-hat? And don’t mention tequila.’ Sia must have the electronic equivalent of a massive hangover.

//Tequila. Tequila! TE-qUI-lAaaa!!//

That lost one gave me a full-body flinch. ‘OK, I deserved that. I guess. Maybe.’ Why do I poke the bear? Why?

//Certainly//

‘Yes, well, I did. But at least we now know I can be persistent when it matters.’

//Now try it on your love life//

“What love life?”

//And…match point//

“Hmmm? Book, did you say something?”

And, double crap. I’d forgotten I was basically in Tak’s bedroom—‘no comment!’—(//*grumble*//) and probably shouldn’t be talking aloud to the parasite in my brain.

‘What’s with the asterisks?’

//A symbiote that keeps you alive. And can’t a girl try something new, without some, some male judging her?//

Now we were into triple-crap territory. Ever had a woman in your life who asked if you noticed something new, then got offended cause you did not notice the new haircut?

Zzzap!

“Mother-r-r…uh, sorry Tak. Late night, and talking to myself keeps me sharp. That and a leg cramp. Go back to sleep.”

“Nah, I’m up now. I can’t go back to sleep if the sun is up.” She unhinged her jaw in a massive yawn.

Damn, that’s contagious. There was no hope of stopping a matching, sunrise greeting. And it was past sunrise; staying up all night hadn’t been an euphemism.

“Did you do it?” asked the sleepy woman. Her fiery hair was not sexily sleep-tousled and her relaxed features were not glowing in innocent refreshment. Nope. As long as she doesn’t do the morning, arching stretch like Tess always did first after waking.

Crap-crap-crap; shit. She did it.

//Down//

I made sure my lap was hidden under the desk. Boy, this has devolved, hasn’t it?

//Yep. You are clearly a credit to your gender//

‘It’s been so long.’

//Or are you playing Steve Carrell’s character?//

‘This is how I cope; I’m twenty-three, not forty. And NO!’

“Book?”

“Sorry. Again. Brain far…uh, fog. I’m not a morning person.” That’s an understatement.

“Yeah, me too. I hate mornings, especially on One-day.”

I couldn’t help hearing ‘Mondays’ and seeing lasagna in my mind.

//Dude, enough! Stop it with the Earth references; live in the present//

‘Give me a break, OK? I’m lost and lonely.’

//My turn to be sorry. I don’t like it, but you have a right to it//

“I did it, Tak,” I said, holding out my newest scroll for her to inspect. “What do you think about the size?” (//Insert joke//) What I really wanted to know was how she saw it, Imperial or Metric. No one had ever said anything to me, or been confused when reading the scrolls, but I was still curious.

“Twelve feet a side? I’d say that was respectable.”

'Insert joke.'

Ah, question answered and curiosity sated. One less itch in my brain. As for the mechanics of it? Magic!

“The breeze part was smart. How do you keep coming up with these innovations? It’s practically unheard of, anymore.”

'Why, thank you. Thank you very much.' Tak rarely had any compliments for me…well, anyone actually. Unless she was selling, which I don’t think was the case, here. She was all business when it came to potential coin. Not being supported by her family any longer, aside from her job as a contract employee with them, she was starting to feel the pinch of real-world economics. Join the club.

//Book? *cough-cough* The third *Ding!*?//

My life had become a balancing act, between my inner and outer worlds. I delved back into my mind-space—here’s looking at you, Alexander Kane. Don’t get it? Read more.

*[Folder]->[Skill]->… …4. [Infuse parchment; common](The ability to imbue suitable material with [mana], allowing for the transformation from parchment to scroll, full of potential and free of clouding intent.)*

Sweet! Another quick creation [Skill], no doubt using more [mana] than truly needed, if I did it manually, so to speak.

That put me at…

*[Level], 2; [Progress], 15 / 16*

Only one to go. And then the headache, unfortunately. Speaking of…

*Ding!*

What?! Oh, fuuuuu…!