It took more than a few hours before the portal started flickering again, but the not-lightning hadn’t returned as yet.

I still wasn’t certain of what to make of it. It seemed to be some kind of entity of the realm, but at the same time wasn’t. Or at least didn’t seem like it.

The fact that it/they had resorted to violence to make a claim to the space at least indicated that they weren’t all that dissimilar from the average baseline.

The language barrier could present a problem, but with any luck, I would be able to tell Miss Skuld about it and leave it to her to solve. Although, knowing my luck, she wouldn’t be able to see it and so I’d be stuck acting as a seeing-eye aide and potentially man-in-the-middle translator.

Since the golems could see it or react to it at least, that helped, but they were still highly susceptible to whatever it/they were.

But as I mentioned, the portal started to flicker. Having been stuck here for over two days (I know I know, hardly any time at all), I was ready to get back to my email, my alcohol, and my djinn and werewolf neighbors. I didn’t realize how much I’d gotten used to the two of them being around until this point. And it wasn’t as though it were a major shift. Just… dull in their absence.

Unlike the clean silvery light that the portal had been previously, this portal was a quarter of the full dimensions and seemed to spark and fizz with a reddish light. It was maintained for a solid minute before a scroll was ejected through it and it died away a minute later.

I opened the scroll or I should say scrolls. The first was a note to me. The other was apparently another prepared spell.

Sam

- We’re working to get the portal going again, but the pairing mechanism doesn’t seem to be working. We’re going to open a temporary link to get this message and additional linking scroll to you. There seems to be some kind of interference. Not sure if there’s anything happening on your end. No way to be sure that you’ll be the one to get this, but hopefully you’re still safe. If we can get the spells to pair, we’ll try another connection in two hours. Please use your scroll before then.

-Miss Skuld

I unrolled the spell scroll and found it to be as incomprehensible as ever. Even with all my experiences to date with rune magics, I still had no idea what/how it all worked other than executing a code like a computer program. A code that I had no idea how to read or use if it failed.

There was also a small essentia crystal to allow me to cast it.

To date, I’ve only ‘cast’ about 15 spells. In each case, I was given an essentia crystal and specific instructions on how to use it for the purpose of the spell.

Perhaps the strangest one was where I was told to chew on it like a lifesaver or a jawbreaker, swallow it, wait 30 seconds, and then whistle Beethoven’s 3rd. I did say it was strange.

Any way around it, here I was again. No particular rhyme or reason on this, but the job needed doing.

I went with the most common method and crushed the essentia crystal in my hand as I chanted a fairly standard incantation of ‘code execution’ (otherwise known as a kind of ‘run program.exe’ except wrapped in a bit of flowery language and including some words that were probably from languages that were so dead that even history had forgotten the language had even existed.

I say that because I’ve definitely tried to figure out what I’ve been saying half the time and only about 9/10s is actually translatable, at least by any modern means (including my translation ring). The strange words seem to be important, but not specific to being of a known language or as being something the ring can translate seemed to put that both in doubt and call attention to them.

I’m sure if I spoke with the Council, I could probably get an explanation, but so far, I’m perfectly happy to keep my involvement with them to a minimum.

Oh right, the scroll.

It more or less dissolved from my hands, acting like a kind of living flame, except with the coloration and appearance of an oceanic foam.

It flowed to the portal and began making small changes all around. It wasn’t obvious what all was happening, but whatever needed to happen was happening.

The remnants of the essentia crystal evaporated as they normally did when they were used up and so I was left holding the message scroll that the other scroll had arrived with.

The foam didn’t seem to be stopping, but for all I knew, it would be doing this until the portal reconnected. Trying to connect from both sides perhaps. It would certainly make it easier if you can listen for an outgoing signal and connect that way when you have something to lock onto.

I wandered back over to my hammock and tried to decide if I wanted to read more, listen to another audiobook, or if I wanted to eat… again.

My supplies weren’t short and there was certainly plenty of garden supplies. I just wasn’t hot on the idea of eating my weight in cherries, blueberries, and golden raspberries (even if I could).

And there were reasonable limits on what I felt like I could do.

It felt so weird to be so disconnected. Not impossibly, but a kind of marooned kind of disconnected. Even if it was only for a few days.

And frankly the golems weren’t much for company. As near as I could work out, none of them was programmed for much beyond defense of the space and the necessary skills to garden and store the various fruits of their labors.

I considered this last bit for a long moment before deciding on what I would do.

I would have a drink. Or maybe three. With any luck, in about two hours, the portal would re-open, I could debrief on the not-lightning, and see about a bacon cheeseburger, onion rings, and an extra tall beer (or maybe even a Long Island).

Asking the one golem who had been my kind of ‘point of contact’ for a large mug of wine or cider got a slightly confused look (at least as far as a chunk of wood with vines on it can get). I handed over the mug that Miss Skuld had given me previously and asked to have it refilled with an alcoholic beverage.

This was still met with confusion as though there was some additional command or statement needed.

I tried asking what the problem was.

The problem was a matter of choice.

Stolen story; please report.

As it turned out, if you could make alcohol out of it, Miss Skuld had had the golems do just that with almost anything that was about to spoil. As a result, there was nigh on a ridiculous amount of choices. That being said, we’re not talking about a space with near infinite space (well, not exactly, but I won’t get into that). So it wasn’t as many choices as you might think and she hadn’t had too many years to build it up. But still…

So that was how I ended up selecting a pomegranate and mango wine that had been cask aged for the last three years.

Yes it was delicious and no I won’t detail how strong it was other than to say that after a full mug, I had trouble standing up.

I still managed it when I saw the sky of the garden flash again and the golems go into alert mode.

Checking my watch, I still had another fifteen minutes before Miss Skuld had said they would try again.

Having severely steady nerves, I walked to where I had stood before, allowing the golems to surround me and spin up their shields once again as some sort of not-lightning once again appeared.

This one seemed different though. It moved less like lightning and more like a flame. More stable, but still very flighty. It was also more substantial compared with the previous entity. It appeared to recognize me and approached, stopping a reasonable distance away and making no apparent moves to attack.

“Are you returned or are you another?” I asked.

“I… am another. Student came before. Master now,” was the translated crackle of flames that filled my ears.

“I apologize for any harm that came, but they did threaten me,” I decided to try and stick with diplomacy.

“You not creator of this place,” it said more than asked.

“I am not. I represent them though,” I said in earnest.

“This realm. Free flow of magic. Oceans of current. Current blocked. Overflow damages. Seeking solution. This place problem. Current flowing again. Different problem,” it indicated, seeming to be working to simplify what it could in order to communicate with me.

“Do you seek this place to be anchored to stop the new flow problem?” I asked.

It appeared to think for a long moment, in as much as a flame can appear to think before flashing green for a moment.

“No,” it said. “Flow necessary. Assurance of no anchor future want.”

“I’m not a user of this realm so I cannot give that assurance. The primary creator is attempting to do just that,” I tried.

“Satisfactory. Student injured. Recovery expected. Damage unexpected. Cause?” it simplified again.

I gestured to my holster. The not-a-flame looked at it but didn’t appear to know what it was.

“Explain,” it indicated.

“A weapon of my realm, enhanced with magic. Intended to hurt, not kill,” I said, also simplifying.

The not-a-flame seemed to take this rather well (or as near as I could tell).

“Student say fear making. Death maker,” it responded.

“Magic fear making,” was my simplified response. It seemed odd that I was getting used to this method of speaking so quickly, but it was working and that was good enough.

“When place creator come again?” it asked after a few moments consideration.

“Very soon,” I said and gestured at the dormant portal gateway.

“I wait,” it said, rather matter of factly. “Guards not needed,” remarking about the golems as though they had been noticed, but immediately dismissed.

I asked the golems to withdraw a little and to lower their shield. They obeyed and took two steps back, their energy shields falling away, but their gaze never leaving the intruder.

The not-a-flame and I observed one another for another five minutes before the portal crackled, drawing our mutual attention.

The portal crackled like a log on a fire before humming into a silvery sheen which slowly filled the whole of the portal gateway, the ocean foam finally falling away, revealing all new features beneath it. The sound of the portal died and the silvery surface stabilized.

Although the first person to come through the portal wasn’t Miss Skuld. It was Lucy.

Lucy seemed hesitant, trying to gather her senses and trying not to leak fire, something she only did when she was upset. She spotted me and the not-a-flame separated by apparently not enough and she raced over to me, her fists flaring with near primal energy. She was clearly ready to defend me from this not-a-flame.

Miss Skuld’s entrance was barely noticeable by comparison. She arrived, spotted the trio of us immediately and moved like a queen in her palace. She paid me no mind, but appeared to be trying to figure out what the not-a-flame was.

“Who are you?” she asked it.

A word or sound that my translation ring had no idea what to do with was passed, but Miss Skuld and Lucy seemed to understand it.

“This is my space and I have created a kind of moving anchor to this place,” she said.

“Anchor bad. Moving good. Flow problem. Preventing study,” the not-a-flame said.

“I understand and I didn’t realize when I created this place. Since we’re still moving, this shouldn’t be an issue now,” Miss Skuld said, perhaps more apologetically than I’d have expected from someone who looks like they might rap your knuckles for writing with your left hand.

“Assurance of movement,” the not-a-flame Master said.

“I will assure it as well as I can. This portal is to do just that,” she gestured at the portal.

The not-a-flame Master looked at the portal again.

“Adequate. More talk needed for future,” it said.

“I can support that. We will need to work out a schedule,” Miss Skuld indicated.

Some more words passed that my ring ignored.

This time though, Lucy responded, in more words that my ring ignored. Her fists were no long wreathed in flame, but she was still very much on edge.

The not-a-flame seemed to understand though.

“Meeting to have with this one,” it said, gesturing at me.

“Why me?” I interjected, feeling like I was missing a lot of the conversation.

“Strong. Independent. Valuable,” was the response.

“They, uh… recognize you as a primary liaison, being semi-independent and valuable to both sides in keeping diplomacy,” Lucy whispered to me.

“I suppose I can accept that,” I said aloud, without intending to.

“Good. Then we accept,” Miss Skuld announced. “Please do not damage my golems anymore.”

“Damage unintentional. Student causing problem. Nothing further,” was the reply and the not-a-flame seemed to diminish with a kind of pop that one expects when removing the plunger from a wet, but drained toilet.

The golems relaxed and returned to their duties after a moment and so too did Miss Skuld and Lucy relax.

“So, anyone want to tell me what all that was?” I prompted.

“I think we all need a stiff drink before we go into that,” Miss Skuld announced and gestured to one of the golems. No words were exchanged, so I can only guess that she made a selection from the spirits via her gesture and some kind of magic that wasn’t immediately obvious.

“No kidding,” Lucy said, nearly collapsing onto the nearby bench.

“Already ahead of you. That pomegranate and mango wine packs a punch,” I commented.

“It should. I trained the yeast myself,” Miss Skuld said, sitting down opposite Lucy and gesturing for me to sit alongside her.

After our drinks had arrived and as a group, we’d consumed at least a third each, Miss Skuld opened the floor.

“I can’t say that I’d ever expect to run into one of your kind out here,” Miss Skuld said.

I was confused for a long moment before Lucy spoke up.

“I can’t remember the last time I even heard of a discorporeal djinn, let alone one living in a place like this,” Lucy replied, a healthy (or perhaps unhealthy were she baseline) way through her mug of the pomegranate-mango wine.

“Did it say anything to you previously?” Miss Skuld asked me.

I relayed the meeting with the ‘student’ that had been described and how it had acted and what my translation had gotten. Moving on, I went through all of what the ‘master’ had indicated. The looks on Lucy’s and Miss Skuld’s faces were a mixture of grim and surprise.

“Have you ever heard of a discorporeal djinn colony or school?” Miss Skuld asked Lucy. Lucy simply shook her head.

“Then it seems we have found a new pseudo center for them. They seem organized, but potentially problematic,” Miss Skuld surmised.

“Discorporeal djinn are dangerous. Little more than outlaws living on the ragged edge. It seems impossible they would live in a place like this,” Lucy retorted as a golem refilled her mug.

“And yet these are organized and willing to make a deal. A deal which we are already fulfilling,” Miss Skuld calmly replied.

Lucy didn’t like that response, but didn’t have anything to say back.

“So what does that mean for me?” I asked.

“It means that at a minimum, you and I need to visit here once a month and meet with this ‘master’ as you call them. It will likely be more negotiations or even just a kind of status meeting, but if it saves me the trouble of needing to create lightning proof garden golems, I’m ok with that,” Miss Skuld said.

“Sam. Please. Don’t agree to this. Discorporeal djinn are dangerous,” Lucy clearly wasn’t happy about any of this.

“Lucy, I can defend myself. I did so once already,” I said, tapping my holster.

Lucy appeared to think about it for a long moment, but didn’t have an immediate reply.

“Miss Skuld, as much as I’ve enjoyed your hospitality in this realm, I think I’m ready to return back to civilization,” I said standing up, if somewhat unsteadily.

“I understand. Let’s get you packed up and back. You and I will almost certainly be seeing enough of each other very shortly,” Miss Skuld nodded, finishing her mug and standing up.

It took another 15 minutes to get my gear stuffed back into my bag of holding, but when we stepped back through, we were all once again in Miss Skuld’s shop.

I seem to recall I have another few stories to tell, but I’ll have to sort through my NDAs and see which ones are probably going to be most interesting. After all, being the equivalent of an IT help desk for wizards isn’t exactly exciting, but it definitely pays the bills.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to attempt some saffron wine.