I dived into enchanting with a passion. Inrak’s living room was soon flooded with slashed leathers, broken potteries and any other imperfect items I could buy at little cost. They all fuelled my study of the new runes I had been granted by my Skill, Knowledge of Basic Runes.

Those runes, true to their name, were very simple. Inrak even had a book that detailed most of them and a few more besides. But the Skill gave me a deeper understanding of the meaning of each of their lines. I was able to envision, as if by intuition, where and how they should best be imbued on an object.

They were not the most useful however. I saw one in the book that wasn’t included in my Skill, the magic imprinting rune. It was quite a common rune to get, though perhaps level 1 was too low yet. It did nothing in itself but allowed a Mage to join his magic to an item. It was how fire swords were made, for example. The Enchanter inscribed the weapon with runes like Hardening, Sharpening and this Magic Imprinting one. Then soldiers or adventurers would pay a Mage to feed the rune with their element of choice. I had no need of fire swords, but it was my assumption that holding bags would work similarly.

Despite not having the same understanding of this rune, it was the one I first tried my hand at. Mastering it would take me one step closer to my goal.

I began by copying the rune over and over on my notes until I felt confident enough that I had the shape down. It wasn’t enchanting yet. The book said enchanting required a focused intent on the rune, the item it was to be imbued on, and the conjoining of the two. One rune was supposed to be easy. The difficulty resided in enchanting with multiple runes. Since an item could only be imbued once, all the runes had to be thought of separately, then with each other, then with the item. So one rune was a three-point process, but two runes was a nine-point one. Needless to say, enchanted items became exponentially more expensive the more useful runes they held.

I tried for the first time on a cracked ceramic cup Inrak had lent me. I was sitting at the table in Inrak’s living room. I spent so much time there that she had started calling it my desk. I took the cup in both my hands and closed my eyes. I envisioned the rune, a circle spiralling inward and forming a square. I focused on the cup, its shape and texture, the tiny fissure on its side. I thought of what it could become with the rune: a cup always keeping the liquid inside hot or cold, or containing twice as much of it. And finally, with a push of will, I imbued the rune onto it.

The cup exploded.

“Putain de merde!” I yelled.

Blood covered my hands. Fragments of ceramic had been projected onto the table and the room. I could feel a stinging on my forehead.

Inrak came running upstairs.

“Luc! Are you okay? Gods of the sky! What happened?”

“I tried to enchant your cup. I don’t know what went wrong. It wasn’t supposed to do that, even if I failed.” I inspected the mess I had caused. “I’m sorry about your cup...”

“Who cares about the cup?! Let me see your hands!”

She shook her hands and whistled in annoyance.

I needed her help to pluck all the shards from my hands and bandage them, but overall it looked worse than it felt. When I said as much, she hit me on the back of the head.

“Idiot! You scared the crap out of me!”

When we were done cleaning up, I apologized for the thousandth time.

“I’m truly sorry, Inrak. I don’t know what I did wrong, but I’ll figure it out. It won’t happen again.”

“Hmm… It certainly won’t happen again today. You’re banned from studying! Go outside, visit the city. You’ve been cooped up in your nest since you came here. It won’t do you any good in the long run. So pffit! Go away!”

My protests were in vain. She practically shooed me downstairs and out of her shop. She wasn’t very strong, but I owed her far too much to act like a rebelling teenager.

It was a bit chilly, but no rain thankfully. I walked to Sirmy’s shop to drink a cup of ipio. She had to help me hold it with her claws at first. It was a bit humiliating, though the feeling was starting to become habitual. She laughed when I told her how I had injured myself.

“I’ve never heard of an enchantment exploding. I thought failing just made the item useless. You should talk with Gygg, he’s a Pix Tailor I know. He enchants some of his clothes himself. Tell him I sent you.”

I thanked her and followed her directions to this Tailor. I had seen a few Pix before. They were the little fae-like people flitting around and making Pterar jealous. I had never talked to one though.

Gygg’s shop was located a few streets away, closer to the castle dominating the city. It had a window display, like Inrak’s, with clothes exposed inside. It was bigger than the bookshop though, and it gave an expensive impression. Above the door, a small metal hatch displayed the owner’s species. All Pix establishments and those that catered to them had those windows to ease their passage.

Seeing no doorbell, I entered the shop. A young man standing to the side gave me a polite smile.

“Can we help you, Sir?”

“Hi, I’ve come to see Gygg. Sirmy sent me.”

He cast a dubious look at my hands. He clearly did not think some dirty peasant had anything to do with his boss, but he stayed professional.

“The Master is with a customer. Would you like a beverage while you wait?”

I declined and sat in the armchair he pointed to me.

I did not have to wait long. Loud voices came from the back of the shop and a male Schalass barged in the room. A Pix was following at his shoulder.

“I will not accept such a treatment!” said the Schalass.

“No offence was meant, my Lord. Autumn is ending, everybody wants new clothes. We simply did not have the time to make all the adjustments you asked for yesterday in your letter.”

“Then perhaps you are not deserving of my business. Good day Tailor.” And with that, he left and slammed the door.

The Pix released a deep sigh.

“Jars, go in the back and see to Lord Crasm’s coat,” he said to the other man. “It only needs a few tweaks but I am liable to tear something out of spite if I have to do it. And one should never work angry.”

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“Yes, Master.”

I rose from my seat and the Tailor turned to me. He examined me from head to toe.

“And who are you?”

“Hello, Mister Gygg? My name is Luc. Sirmy told me to come and see you.”

“Sirmy did? What is this about?”

“Well, I told her I injured my hands while I was trying to enchant a cup and it exploded and she sent me here… She said you might be able to help.”

His stunned look only reinforced how much of a fool I felt.

“You did what? Wait! You’re that human Ripsile keeps going on about. She did say you were clumsy.”

What? The little scamp! I felt betrayed, though right now I couldn’t really refute it. But still!

“I don’t know what happened,” I explained. “I got the Class yesterday and was trying to enchant the cup with the Magic Imprinting rune. Everything felt right until I pushed my intent into it exploded. I thought failures were only supposed to weaken the item, not make it explode.”

I sounded like I was whining, it was embarrassing. The Pix was shaking with laughter.

“Did you get the Skill Knowledge of Magic Imprinting with your Class?” He finally asked.

“No, I got Knowledge of Basic Runes.”

“Well, there you go. Long study and the help of mid-level Skills are needed to use runes you don’t have the Skill for. At level 1? You’re lucky you were starting with a cup.”

“Shit. That wasn’t in the books...”

Though perhaps it was. I had been so excited when I found the rune in one of the books that I had just skimmed through the rest of them before trying my hand at it. It was possible that I had missed the warning.

The bastard was laughing again.

“Why did you start with that rune anyway? It isn’t that useful at the beginning.”

“I wanted to make holding bags,” I said, dejectedly.

Louprak had told me to be careful who I told about my Class, but I figured this was a friend of Sirmy. And I didn’t want to spend my life in this world completely paranoid. I would need all the help I could get to find a way home. A bonus to telling the truth was that the Pix had stopped laughing.

“You’re a Portal Mage, then?”

I nodded. Everybody but scholars called it that instead of its name.

“Interesting,” he said. “Permanent holding bags are rare. Even temporary ones can have value, especially to some species like mine. But you should still level-up with runes you have the Skill for and wait to get the Magic Impriting one. You’re just asking for trouble otherwise. I would recommend the Hardening rune personally, or perhaps the Lightening one. They are always useful and could both be good combinations for a holding bag.”

“Thank you, that is very useful to know.”

“It’s nothing. Friends of Sirmy and Ripsile are friends of mine.”

We chatted for a bit. When I asked about the rude Schalass earlier, he shook his head.

“The Duchess is old and rumoured to be in frail health. Vultures are circling.”

He would say no more than that. He gave me a few tips for training enchanting, but then he had to go back to work.

“Thank you for your help, Gygg. I will think and study more before rushing into it.”

Just as I said that, I heard Margaux’s voice. Perhaps I imagined the slight amusement in it, but I could just see her gently mocking me for my idiocy.

*You have reached level 2 in the Class Enchanter.*

When I told Gygg, he laughed and congratulated me.

“There you go! Failure is the best path to success, I always say. Now that I think about it, you will need material to train on. Wait here a moment, I’ll have an apprentice bring you our pile of discarded garments and wasted cloth. And remember me if you do manage your holding bags. I know some people that might be interested.”

I thanked him again and watched him fly away. Soon later, a Pterar came and dumped a lot of clothes in my arms. It wasn’t easy with my injured hands, but I managed to not lose too many of them during the journey back to Inrak’s.

She was still adamant that I take a break for the day, so I went back outside and walked around the city. I had not taken the time before to really appreciate this opportunity I had. I was in a medieval city. It was like a living, breathing, museum. And it had magic and fantasy species. I knew some people would have killed to be where I was. I was an accountant. Not even a particularly great one. I knew Excel spreadsheets and a few ERP systems. None of those were at all useful here. So why me? Any chemist or physicist would have lived like a king here. Was it just bad luck? Happenstance?

The next day, after having bought my usual potion from Morange, I decided to follow Gygg’s advice. I chose the Hardening rune. I remembered my discussion with Trade Master Louprak. Any container would be subject to shocks during travel, at sea or on the cobbled or dirt roads of this world. The Hardening rune would certainly be a great choice for a second rune for my holding bags.

I was heartened by my first failure. The shirt I had tried the rune on did not explode –not that it would have done much damage, I had chosen the softest fabric I could find. Instead, nothing happened. The shirt did not move, there was no sort of light or warmth. No magic at all. And when I tried again, I could not even feel the shirt in my mind. I could not focus on it. My failure had barred it from ever being enchanted.

Still, this was progress. I took a dress this time.

I leveled up the next day.

*You have reached level 3 in this Class Enchanter.*

Whenever I had enough of trying to harden clothes, I closed my eyes and focused on the Aether. It had become familiar to me. I knew that was normal because the Archmage’s treatise vaguely broached the subject, but I still marvelled at this other sense I had acquired.

The Aether differed subtly depending on where you sensed it from. In Inrak’s living room, where I had spent so much time practising, it now held a somewhat distinctive taste. Unsurprisingly, it felt like being enveloped in an old book. More importantly, I knew that if I were to navigate the Aether, I could recognize it. This, I realized, was how Aether Mages made portals between two places, though I was a far cry from being able to do that.

It took me weeks of constant practice. I neglected my duties towards Inrak, yet every time I apologized she waved me off and told me to keep going. Though she did insist on me taking a day off once a week. Those were both a relief from exhausting mental work and a dreaded time of reflection. I could not hide behind magic. Margaux would be due soon and I was nowhere near having found a way home. Perhaps she thought that I had abandoned her, given up everything just to get away from my responsibilities. The anguish gnawed at me from inside. I was restless. I even went back to Pamasteron’s temple one morning, thinking that maybe the God had found a way to help me. He had not. His praise for my efforts meant nothing to me. I was thinking of going to seek another God’s opinion. Surely Illirya, Goddess of magic, would know more, would be able to do something. But what if she could not? Where would that leave me? I was too afraid of losing all motivation. I buried myself in my studies instead.

*You have reached the level 5 of the Class Enchanter. You have gained the Skill Knowledge of Magic Imprinting.*

*You have reached the level 4 of the Class Student.*

*You have reached the level 6 of the Class Aether Mage. You have gained the Skill Influencing the Aether.*

Yes! Finally! Holding bags here I came.