"Craft PH-38521, codename Fairydust, proceed to docking bay 42."
The sole occupant of the ship bearing the name Fairydust nudged the throttle, changing the course from the holding pattern over in orbit to descend through the atmosphere. The engines strained as the maneuver shifted the ship's momentum, but she stayed in one piece despite the numerous repairs that the Fairydust was in desperate need of.
The captain remained unconcerned by any of the rattling and screeching noises that the ship made as TAFT, that is Transitional Atmospheric Fluctuating Temperatures, occurred. TAFT was still one of the greatest threats to space travel, even after over five centuries since humanity had first taken to space.
Fortunately, the Fairydust held together as it entered into the atmosphere of Earth once again. The general greens, browns, and blues of the land and oceans completely occupied the viewport as it dropped down into the oceanic travel lanes enroute to the assigned docking bay. The travel lanes over the planet’s oceans served as highways for spacecraft that were entering or leaving Earth, but also served traffic atmospherically locked, such as the freighter that nearly crashed into the Fairydust as it was merging.
“Stupid…” grumbled the young man at the controls, biting back his more scathing comments.
The remainder of the short trip to docking bay forty-two was uneventful and the ship landed at an open pad it was directed to, settling on three ‘feet’ that had been extended. Powering down the ship’s systems, the pilot dragged on the worn, gray trenchcoat that had been draped over the back of the seat before stepping outside.
“Hey there!” shouted one of the docking bay’s attendant workers, “What’cha need?”
“Just fuel,” responded the young man, tapping on a hatch to open it for the fuel line’s access.
“Sure thing. Ship’s looking pretty ragged though. Chopper 3 model, so like 30 years at least. Sure you don’t want us to take a look.”
The Chopper-III model of spacecraft was one that had a vague resemblance to twentieth century helicopters, or ‘choppers.’ The third model sported a trio of hybrid jet engine and propeller style thrusters, one on each side and one at the rear, to give the ship a modest speed in the solarsphere. The ship itself was relatively small at fifteen meters long and while having only about the space of an old recreational vehicle inside for long-term use. In other words, it was perfect for one or two people. The Chopper line had been discontinued after the third model when the manufacturer went under three decades ago, and the Fairydust was one of the last to get off the production lines.
“Yeah, something like that,” the young man chuckled, “I got a guy though but thanks anyways.”
The attendant shrugged and went off to get the fuel line. The young man sighed as he stretched, feeling planetary gravity for the first time in a few days. He was a fairly tall man, at just about 1.8 meters, though he certainly looked like he could stand to gain a few kilograms to fit his frame. As a result, the tee shirt and sweatpants underneath the trenchcoat hung loosely on him. He had a black leather belt around his waist, which did hold his pants up but also held the holstered gun on one hip and single pouch on the opposite. He had somewhat shaggy brown hair that would reach his shoulders if it was not rather untamed and stuck out everywhere currently. He pushed the sungoggles up onto his forehead, revealing his chocolate-colored eyes.
“Guess I’ll have her cut my hair while I’m here,” he murmured as he passed a hand through the unruly mess atop his head.
After the Fairydust had been topped off, the attendant came back over.
“Alright so that’s 814 credits.”
The young man stared at the attendant.
“Two weeks ago it was less than 500. What gives?”
“Collection delay from the Jupiter stations. Some huge storm.”
“Fine, whatever,” he sighed and reached out.
The attendant pointed a small scanner at the young man’s wrist, then accepted his thumbprint. The scanner read the microchip under the skin and confirmed the transaction with the print.
“Thank you mister… Witchwood? That’s interesting.”
Evan Witchwood was the young man’s name, and he was certainly used to people making that remark.
“Yeah. We good here?” Evan asked.
“Docking fee of 200.”
Evan sighed again, but again paid the attendant before climbing back into the Fairydust and taking off. While the docking bay’s could be used for long-term ship storage, they were mostly fuel stations. Since Evan had space at home to land the Fairydust, he did not need the storage function. Of course, he did not technically need the fuel either, since the Fairydust had more than a few secrets in its old frame, but people might get too suspicious if he did not purchase fuel somewhat regularly, given the frequency of Evan’s extraterrestrial ventures.
Merging onto the continental highways, Evan switched the propulsion to repulsors, cutting most of the rattling noises back and quieting his travel for the people below. Repulsors used a form of electromagnetism to keep craft flying and move them along.
Gliding over residential areas, he quickly saw the mountains approaching and veered towards the patch of land, and the house on it, that Evan called home. It was previously an old farm where previous owners had raised chickens in bulk for their meat. However the two houses where that process had been carried out had been sold long before Evan came into possession of this place. The main house was practically a small mansion, though it was more because there had been numerous renovations and additions added on over time as opposed to it being an actual mansion. There was even still the old barn at the base of a nearby hill, which was part of the mountain range.
Setting the Fairydust down outside, Evan sighed. Finally he was home from another disappointing search. He was about to rest his eyes for a moment when he saw movement on the porch of the house. He glanced over to see a young woman, appearing to be in her late teens or early twenties, wiping her hands on a dishcloth as she stared at the Fairydust. Her blond hair was pulled back into a single ponytail style, leaving her blue eyes, which seemed to almost be glowing, peering out from a face that could only be described as cute. She was wearing a white, short-sleeved blouse and a blue skirt that went just past her knees. She also currently had on an black apron, which she stuffed the dishcloth into as Evan disembarked.
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“I see you’re alone again,” she called out as he walked up to the house.
“Yeah,” he replied, “Another false rumor.”
Evan did not give the young woman a second glance as he walked past her and into the house. The smell of freshly baking bread hit his nose and he inhaled sharply at the pleasant scent.
“Smells good. Just don’t burn it this time,” he said.
“I’ve been practicing while you were gone. It takes some getting used to without the precision of more modern appliances.”
Evan recalled some of her early results at cooking anything more complex than ready meals or things that had specific instructions. He winced at the pain his stomach had gone through as he attempted to digest some of it.
“What did you do with your results? You can’t eat them after all.”
“I took them to a nearby food bank.”
“Thanks Tessa.”
“T.S.A.H.”
“How many times must I tell you that isn’t what your name is? It’s Tessa!”
“Every third sorcerer makes a homunculus. It’s not my fault you gave me the name Third Sorcerer’s Automa Homunculus when I first gained consciousness.”
Indeed, Evan was a man capable of using magic, and Tessa, or TSAH, was his created companion and assistant. Evan was, as far as he knew, the last person in existence who could utilize magic. Ever since his mentor died last year, Evan had been left to carry on a legacy that was centuries old.
Magic has always existed in the universe, but simply cannot be tapped into by everyone. On Earth, it had a complex history that ultimately led to those capable people going into hiding to keep their society going. However, the steady beat of technological progress had caught up to and superseded the capacity of magic in many areas. There were some things that magic could still do better, like powering a spacecraft, but it seemed only a matter of time before magic would completely fade into myth. Many of the great magicians had stopped training apprentices, and the magical society had progressively shrunk over the centuries. After all, when medicine could now cure cancer, what witch would need to brew a potion for the same effect? Or when energy shields could protect people from bullets, what use was a wizard’s mana barrier?
Evan was fortunate to be born to a trained witch, his mother, but she had stubbornly refused to teach him anything of magic even after discovering her son could tap into it. As such, he had tried desperately to teach himself, a dangerous prospect, which had only resulted in tragedy. However, as a result, he was taught magic by the technowizard Will Surgequill. Will, Evan’s mentor, was perhaps the last magician to still proclaim that magic had a place in a modern society. He would claim that it was magic’s lack of evolution that resulted in its apparent stagnation and growing obsolescence. It was a belief that Evan acquired from learning under Will, and one that grew stronger with the funeral of every other magic user the pair attended over ten years. Eventually, even those stopped too. It was on Will’s own deathbed that he made one final request of Evan.
“Don’t let magic die with you.”
Evan, having taken Will’s beliefs, embedded his mentor’s last request in his heart. If no one else could see the potential of magic, he would have to show it to the universe. But first, he needed at least one apprentice of his own. That was the purpose of his frequent journeys.
“I’m not a sorcerer anymore, so it doesn’t even make sense. Can’t you just rewrite that part?” Evan begged Tessa yet again.
“No. A homunculus takes the first response as their name. Will warned you to be careful.”
Evan knew Tessa was right, but also knew that when she got stubborn about this particular topic like this that she had something interesting for him.
“What did you find?” Evan asked, changing the topic.
Tessa smiled, because while she put up a fuss about her official name at times, she was willing and capable of referring to herself as Tessa. And because she had won the debate this time, at least in her mind, she was willing to carry on to the next topic.
Tessa’s eyes seemed to emit a blue glow, beyond the simple glow that their fleshy appearance gave, and a three dimensional holographic image appeared before her. The way it worked was reminiscent of a twentieth century movie series about wars a long time ago in a distant galaxy.
The image Tessa was projecting was from a news info-site, the replacement of old websites. It mentioned a mysterious string of disappearances on a colony world called Pangea, like the ancient Earth supercontinent.
“How are these disappearances… oh,” Evan started, before reading closer.
The authorities were apparently unable to explain several clues left behind nor find any of the missing persons. It was worse because all of the people missing were children. What those particular clues were went mostly unspoken of in the article, but one that was mentioned was the seeming coincidence with the local lunar cycle. The title of the article even was The Werewolf Abductor Strikes Again.
“It’s like they forget that Therians exist,” Evan sighed.
Tessa closed the article and her eyes returned to normal.
“Therians are very private,” she replied.
Therians were one of the many sentient extraterrestrial races that humanity had discovered existing among the stars. They were called therians by humans because of one unique feature, the ability to take on an animalistic form. It was not the same as the werewolves of fantasy media, where there might be a distinctive wolf form and a distinctive humanoid form, but rather had to do with specific time period. Over the course of days, therians would experience a significant growth of the hair on their bodies. Coupled with their innate ability to walk or run on either two or four legs, and their somewhat more animalistic faces, it was almost to be expected that they might be called werebeasts. Therianthropy, the word from which therian was made, was after all the mythical ability to shapeshift between an animal and human form.
“Still doesn’t really explain why you think that’s a lead,” Evan remarked.
“It’s the rate of the disappearances that doesn’t make sense. Therians don’t change every week. It’s why I don’t think the authorities there are questioning any therians. Based on Prysin’s notes on therian magicians, rapid fluctuations of their cycles is a sign of capability.”
“By cycles, do you mean…?”
“Yes. Breeding cycles.”
The fact that Tessa could say such a thing with a straight face was in part due to her nature as a homunculus. Homunculus, being created beings, did not have any sexual drives or motives. While they could participate in such acts, nothing would come about because of it. The other part was the purpose that Evan had created Tessa for. She had been designed to assist him in sorting through seemingly impossible quantities of information that had been passed down to him from all the previous magicians. Being that Tessa neither ate nor slept, when she was not actively assisting Evan, she was absorbing the information from books and digital files as fast as she was able. While she had barely covered five percent of the total volume of information they had in as many years, she was already a walking encyclopedia of magical knowledge.
“So you think we have a magically gifted therian this time?” Evan asked.
“Yes. Female I suspect. Taking children is probably a nesting behavior,” Tessa replied.
“Why keep them though?”
“That is why I think we should go.”
“We?”
“I suspect also that she might be young. Having a twenty five year old human male approach her in her condition alone might be too much.”
“I’m still twenty four!”
“For another month.”
“Fine. You can come. Just check over the Fairydust tonight while I get some rest and we’ll leave in the morning. She’s starting to scare the attendants at the bays again.”
“You should get a new ship, then I can transfer the mana core over to it.”
“Sure, when you get me the money for a new ship I’ll get one. Until then, the Fairydust is all we have.”
“Very well. I’ll tighten up the ship,” Tessa said.