As I promised, my adventure with Rennet.

Well, I’d only just received my Council issued firearm (I hadn’t even really done much more than open the box to look at it) when Rennet turned up.

Rennet was the local bookshop wizard who I helped out with a bit of statue duck troubleshooting. While being somewhat younger and looking far more like a wizard than the still to be met Installation Wizards, he still had a kind of arrogance that one normally wears when one is used to being the smartest person for 50 miles.

Or at least that’s what Rennet most likely likes to think. Which means that my little trick most definitely embarrassed him, even if it was essentially in private.

And the whole initial mess with the Wizard Police was also most likely his doing. So that would make his being wrong twice. All the more reason for him to not want to deal with me. But one morning, Rennet turned up on my doorstep all the same, looking rather sheepish (and a bit singed).

“Rennet. I don’t believe I have any books checked out at the moment or on hold,” I said, placidly sipping my coffee, but clearly not inviting him in.

Rennet appeared to take a moment to process this immediate dialog.

“That is correct, but I have a need for someone with your talents,” he shuffled his feet in what looked like carpet slippers (but were barely visible from the robes).

“Ah, professional services consulting. You are aware of my rates?” I asked.

It’s something I learned very early on in my career. Never but NEVER agree to anything without discussing price. And reminding people that requests came with a cost tended to pre-empt a lot of those sorts of conversations. It also usually set them to thinking about balancing the costs of employing me now, later, or not at all.

The wise usually took a moment to calculate this, the foolish didn’t bother. Rennet in this case was foolish.

“I cannot pay your normal rates,” he said.

“Well, you and I are not well enough acquainted for me to give you a discount. So I suspect you have something else to gamble at enticing my interest,” I responded, looking into my coffee and taking a long sip.

The coffee was a fermented goblin base. The goblins are apparently masters of fermenting, so much so that the various species, including humans, have exchanged recipes with them over time. So when I say that it was a good cup of coffee, it would be like saying that a 50 yr old bottle of scotch was only ok.

The goblin merchant that I’d obtained the coffee (and a few other things) from had needed me to design a new separation and sorting system that could accommodate goblins (them being a bit bigger than gnomes, but not by much). In lieu of my normal commission, I’d opted for some of the more choice ingredients.

Oh and speaking of which, I’d never learned haggling before coming into this world, but when it’s favors for favors and goods for services, it comes into play exceptionally quickly.

So while the merchant wasn’t too happy at paying my price, he at least gets the satisfaction of knowing that I’ll definitely be buying more from him.

Anyway, back to Rennet. Rennet pulled out a book from his robes and showed it to me.

It was a ‘timelost’ copy of the history of Seers.

Hmmm?… Oh right, so timelost books (or really timelost anything) are items that somehow or another got lost in the passage of time. Not truly lost or displaced from their normal continuum, but no longer wholly there. In the modern age, keys are most frequently timelost items. Various other items are commonly timelost.

As to how Rennet managed to get a copy of this (seeing as there were only supposed to be about five in existence across the whole of non-baseline recorded history), I’m not exactly going to speculate. But it had the hallmarks of being timelost, which is to say that it glowed around the edges slightly. This effectively meant that I could technically ‘own’ the book, but when I’d go looking for it, I probably wouldn’t be able to find it on my shelves until far later than I wanted it and/or in a completely obtuse place (like under the coffee table or under the kitchen sink).

“Do I want to know how you got that?” I asked.

“I’ve had this copy for some time in my collection. Never seemed important until now,” Rennet admitted, still holding the book up as though a kind of shield.

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“Alright, you’d better come in then and tell me what this favor is then,” I gestured and stepped back to watch Rennet’s entrance.

Strangely, only the barest hints of sparks came off of Rennet’s entrance and none of them from the book.

“Are… are you low on essentia?” I guessed, still sipping my coffee, but refusing to take my eyes off the wizard now in my apartment.

“Is it so obvious?” Rennet asked, almost immediately annoyed.

“Only to me. The barriers here seem to let me know how well energized spells and a person, well, being is.”

“Hrmph,” Rennet managed, glancing back at the door, but turning and placing the book on the coffee table.

“So what do you want to see me about?” I re-prompted.

“Do you know what a Prism is?” Rennet asked.

“Not in the sense that you do, so please elaborate.”

“A Prism is… well, the short answer for both our sakes is a kind of illusory matrix where the normal dimensions don’t exactly come into play, at least in the same way. They tend to be used to hold artifacts of moderate power and usually the research notes on creating said artifacts,” Rennet tried.

“Basically you found a magical MacGuffin in one of these Prisms, but you need my help to get it out,” I attempted to fast forward to the end.

“Well, in a way, yes and no. I don’t actually know what’s in this Prism. Nobody does. Lost Prisms turn up from time to time. They end up as timelost even more than books and keys,” he responded, looking at his shoes.

“Rennet, did you actually have that book in your collection or did you manage to pull it from the Prism in question?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.

Rennet looked up in shock.

“How…?” the words halfway dying on his lips as he realized he’d given it away.

My only response was a tight smile and another sip of my coffee.

“Well… yes. I did retrieve it from the Prism in question. It was the only thing I managed to grab before I got chased out,” Rennet went back to looking at his shoes.

“And you got chased out by?” I prompted, already regretting that the book wasn’t likely going to be enough to cover my normal rates, but having agreed to it in any case.

“The Prism’s Guardian. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but it is quite dangerous,” Rennet said.

“Why not take someone more adequately versed in essentia and magic to deal with said Guardian?” I asked, feeling played.

“Usually Prisms are guarded against other wizards and whatever regional beings there are. Without knowing more about this one, I can’t say who else might be useful. But Seers are a… well, a blindside for a lot of wizards. We don’t really have you built into our spells. Same really goes for baselines. Or rather once you get past the surface with accounting for baselines,” Rennet babbled.

It was good to know that I was very definitely the minority. It was already making my life interesting.

“So where is this Prism?” I asked.

“In the basement of my shop,” Rennet perked up, looking a bit brighter.

“And how did you come by it? Oh, and forgive me, coffee?” I offered.

“Yes please. That smells like Greeb’s Stout Reserve and I’d be honored to have a mug with you,” Rennet looked much more self-assured now.

I set about pouring him a mug with the inscription for the local university and handed it over. He took a long deep breath of the coffee.

“Oh….” the look on his face was almost rapturous.

“So where did you get this Prism?” I re-asked.

“Oh… well, I, uh, got it from a traveling merchant,” he fumbled.

“Fell off a truck, did it?” I asked rhetorically. Rennet went to answer, but I waved him into silence. “In short, you know almost nothing about it except what it is, it has a guardian, and it contained a copy of one of the rarest books in the whole of non-baseline history. And that doesn’t strike you as odd?”

“Not really. Most Prisms contain guardians, tend to end up misplaced, and it’s not as though one would store junk in one,” Rennet looked almost offended.

“Really? How many Prisms have you made and lost?” I asked.

“Four. But I haven’t actually lost them. I just can’t find them at the moment,” he said reproachfully.

I looked at him skeptically, but continued to sip my coffee. It wasn’t the sort that one let get cold.

“So what do you need me to do?” I asked.

“Accompany me back into the Prism tomorrow. I’m a bit worse for wear at the moment, but I need to know what’s in there as soon as possible,” Rennet said.

I gave it a bit of thought. I was still getting used to running my own business, so I looked over at my calendar. Somehow, the rest of the week was free. How… fortuitous for me I suppose. Oh well, might as well see about having an adventure.

“Fine. I’ll be at your shop tomorrow, but I’ll be bringing that,” I nodded in the direction of the box with my new firearm.

Rennet looked at the clearly marked box with a bit of alarm.

“Do you think that’s necessary?” he asked.

“Do you think you’d have gotten out of that Prism if you’d run out of essentia sooner?” I replied.

He took a moment to consider this.

“I can’t promise that it’ll be any good in the Prism,” he tried.

“I’m not asking you to. I’m telling you that I’m bringing it,” I said, finishing my first cup and walking over to pour another mugful.

“I suppose that’s not unreasonable. I have some preparations to make myself,” Rennet admitted before half-way downing the rest of his mug.

“If that’s how you drink Greeb’s Stout Reserve, I shant give you anymore,” I chided him.

Rennet looked offended for just a moment and then embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, but I’m running on fumes. It’s no excuse, but I shouldn’t like to keep you any longer and I should head back to my shop. I expect a few tourists will want to see the printing presses today,” he hung his head a bit.

Without any further ceremony, he set down his now empty mug and hurried out of the apartment.

I glanced between the book he’d left and my work station. I knew the book would keep, but I just couldn’t resist. I grabbed it and went over to my work station. My Wiznet mailbox was already filling with new inquiries on services, so I put in a block for tomorrow’s adventure.

Sipping my coffee and determined to ignore my mailbox for a bit longer, I opened the book. It was time to start learning about what there was to know about Seers.