Millennial Mage

Tala sighed, feeling a fleeting disappointment.

As suddenly as it had come, the cool breeze departed, the wind switching to come up from the plains behind them. It was not a warm wind, but it was warmer than that from the mountains.

Tala sighed, letting her arms fall back to her lap. She felt her clothing shift back into form, tightening the fit once more. Merilin did say that the immortal elk had a few ways of keeping cool. I suppose this is one of them?

As she reached for the book most likely to contain information on that entity, she froze, hand in the pouch, book in hand. Wait… I know these books were on the shelf, within the space. She looked down, into the bag, trying to see past the book, and her hand. It was only darkness. She couldn’t see the ladder; she couldn’t see the little room. Nothing.

Ok, Tala. Calm down.

She pulled her hand out, and closed the bag, leaving the book inside. She spoke softly, so that Den was unlikely to hear. “How are you doing that?”

Kit did not respond.

Tala stared at the bag, focusing until her mage-sight began to highlight the power flowing through the bag. She was hampered in that, because of the iron salve she’d worked into the outside, but she could still see through the top, closed though it was.

She saw what she’d seen before, dimensional power, twisted and harnessed towards the pouch’s functions. “How do you know what I am reaching for?”

The pouch did not respond.

She frowned. “I’m reaching for a pencil.” She stuck her hand in, thinking about reaching for a notebook, specifically without a pencil.

Her hand instantly found a notebook.

It’s bound to me, to my magic. After a moment, she reached in and took out a pencil as well and began writing notes, thoughts, theories. Finally, she realized that she had a resource ready to hand.

She pulled out the first volume on bound items, skipping the introduction, for the moment, and looking in the index.

Behavior…behavior, behavior… There!

She flipped to the corresponding page:

‘Bound magic items often seem to act with what is misdiagnosed as intuition, on the part of their wielder. The truth of the matter is that because the item is bound to a Mage’s magic, they are bound to the Mage’s will. Therefore, if a Mage takes an action, and it is within the item’s ability to act to aid that action, the Mage’s will often intuitively manipulates the item to bring it about.’

“Huh, that is a disappointingly sensible answer…” She looked down at Kit. “Oh well. And here I thought you might be reading my mind and trying to be helpful.” She smiled. “Thank you, anyways, Kit.” She patted the bag.

The pouch did not respond.

She regarded the volume in her hand. “I already have this out. Might as well learn what I can.” With that, she flipped to the beginning of the book and began to read.

* * *

Tala was enjoying the book on bound items, and she felt like she was learning a lot.

The first and most important thing she’d learned was that any item that she empowered was bound to her. Thankfully, it was bound to her magic, not her soul, but it was still a surprising revelation. This bond was actually the chief reason that cargo-slots, like those riding in the wagons both beneath and behind her, couldn’t have another Mage give them power. That was not the only reason to be sure, but it was a core one.

It was a much more thorough explanation than she’d been given, previously, and she was grateful for it. As it turned out, the cargo-slots would remain bonded to her until they fully drained of power, at which point, they could be reinscribed, and a different Mage could bond them for the course of a different journey.

Did Grediv mention something about this? If he did, she’d lost it in the outpouring of information. And here I thought I had perfect memory… She thought she could likely delve back into the conversation with Grediv, and find out if he’d told her this tidbit, but in the end, it didn’t really matter. I suppose perfect memory doesn’t mean perfect ability to access it. It seemed like a rusting stupid limitation to her.

She returned her thoughts to the magic-bound items: Apparently, there was a pervasive theory, which the book’s author thought of as nonsense, which held that the magic items were alive, in a rudimentary sense, and that it wasn’t until the item died that another could be brought into being, within the same shell, ready to bond some other Mage.

The idea made Tala vaguely uncomfortable, as it seemed akin to creating a slave solely for your own purposes, then letting them die when you were through with them. Thankfully, it seemed that even the most ardent supporters of this theory hypothesized that the intelligence of inscribed items wasn’t even equivalent to an insect. They did seem to claim that artifacts were closer to mammals in intellect, though.

“Kit, are you alive?”

Kit did not respond.

Oh, well. She really hadn’t expected anything else.

Tala looked to her right, hearing a horse drawing near, and sighed. A man, dressed in heavy chainmail, and armed with the standard guard weaponry, was approaching. The insignia of a Master Sergeant was highly visible on his near shoulder. Great.

He glanced her way and saw her regarding him. He lifted his hand and called out. “Mistress Tala, may I come up to speak with you for a moment?”

Why not. “Sure.” Maybe Adam misjudged him?

Furgel was surprisingly lithe, slipping off his horse, and tying the reins to the ladder as he swung up onto it. He climbed quickly and easily, despite the weight of his armor and weapons. When he achieved the roof, he hesitated, glancing down at himself. “My apologies.” He patted his armor. “I can doff my iron and leave it aside, if you wish. I apologize for not thinking of it, earlier.”

She waved that aside. “No need, Master Sergeant, you’re on duty, and I don’t mind.” After a moment, she sighed and added. “But I do appreciate the consideration in asking.” Or…were you trying to throw me off by wearing the armor to begin with? That seemed a bit uncharitable for her to assume, so she set that aside.

Furgel nodded, taking a seat between her and Den, facing her from about five feet away.

There was an uncomfortable silence, during which Tala placed her book, notebook, and pencil into her belt pouch.

He cleared his throat. “I…I owe you an apology, Mistress Tala.”

She didn’t react, simply watching him, impassively.

He looked off to one side. “I behaved poorly and disrespected you greatly. I was attempting to perform my duties, and thought I was in the right, but that is no excuse for how I acted. I apologize. Will you forgive my blunder?”

That was surprisingly eloquent. She took a slow breath in, then nodded. “Yes, thank you, Master Sergeant. I am aware how I appear to others, and while I do not appreciate being treated as you did, I understand that you did not have malicious intent.”

He seemed to relax slightly, several worry lines fading from his face.

However, before he spoke, Tala continued. “That said, I would recommend not treating anyone that way, ever. Even if I was whom you assumed, that would have been an inappropriate means of handling the situation.”

He reddened but not with embarrassment, and he opened his mouth to retort.

Tala held up a hand, forestalling him. “Every person in a caravan is here by right, either they earned that right through competence and contract, or they purchased that right as a passenger. This is not your kingdom, and you are not a god. Respect and patient listening will go a long way, Sergeant.”

He was so red as to almost appear purple, but he seemed to maintain enough control not to utter his clear objections. “Mistress.” He stood, turning to the ladder, and dropping out of sight. Tala shortly saw him on his horse, riding quickly back down the wagon train.

Den turned to regard her. “While you weren’t wrong, it probably wasn’t wise to give unsolicited advice.”

Tala grunted. “Probably true. I wonder why he came at all? I’d have thought someone like that would want an audience for his ‘act of humility.’ ”

Den laughed, turning back around. “Oh, he did. I’m head driver, and I’d have taken news to the others.” He snorted. “I still will.” He glanced back, grinning.

Tala laughed. “Remind me to stay in your good graces.”

“Oh, Mistress, you’re fine. Especially now that you’re being more cautious.” He lapsed back into silence, his hatted head barely visible above the edge of the wagon.

Tala stood, looking back down the wagon train. Unlike the trip to Alefast, during which the caravan had been composed of eight wagons, this trip was much larger. There were the two cargo wagons, three Mages’ wagons, and the chuck-wagon. Three bunk wagons had been brought along for a tripled contingent of guardsmen. One of those wagons trundled along directly behind the second cargo wagon and another was at the back of the wagon train. Each had a guard posted on top.

Adam was the frontmost of those guards, and he waved as he noticed her, before continuing his vigilance.

Her mind took a step back. Wait, three Mages’ wagons? She hadn’t met the third Mage Protector of this caravan. It’ll be interesting to see who it is.

The passenger wagons were still the most numerous, but now it was by an even greater margin. If she was guessing correctly, there were four for more wealthy passengers and three for poorer, though that was relative for anyone wealthy enough to travel between cities in a trade caravan.

Sixteen wagons. Between ninety and one hundred guards, likely between twenty-three and twenty-seven passengers, plus servants, drivers, and the cooks. That was approaching a hundred sixty people. I wonder if Brand has more than two assistants, this trip. She’d find out soon enough.

Nearly three times as many people on this trip, but she supposed that made sense. Every caravan leaving a waning city should take more away than it brought. Thus continues the cycle of civilization.

She saw a huge shape on horseback, riding near the middle of the caravan. Rane… That was a strange man, from what little she’d seen. Did he get a bigger horse? She grinned at that thought.

I don’t see Ashin. She allowed her gaze to move over the guardsmen and women out on duty but didn’t spot him. She shrugged. Might have a different duty shift. He might be out and about after lunch or whenever they switched shifts.

They were nearing the entrance to the pass, even as the sun neared its zenith.

I wonder… Tala fished into her pouch and pulled out a bit of jerky. She flicked it out to the side, without fanfare or warning.

A blip of dimensional energy heralded its vanishing.

So, Terry is along for the trip, then. She wasn’t really surprised.

She stretched backwards, feeling the tightness in her muscles. She froze.

Well, rust me to slag… She groaned, settling down into a seated position. I forgot to get a massage… That was irritating, and now that she was taking the time to sit, again, her tight muscles were beginning to nag her.

Well, nothing for it, now. She began to stretch, using her mage-sight, internally focused, to pinpoint the trigger-points that were giving her the most issue. Funnily enough, the process allowed her to discover some strangely relaxing positions, which slowly helped her body unwind itself.

In addition, she pulled out her last, blank notebook, and put it to use, whenever her hands and eyes were free, which admittedly, wasn’t that often. Her self-appointed task was to do a detailed overview of her knowledge of biology. Thankfully, she wasn’t seeking to write a reference book, she simply built out a list of which specifics she remembered, and those she didn’t feel confident in, without detailing what those actually were. I’m making an index of my knowledge. She found that helped her decide what was too much detail to include.

As she began to stretch, the caravan entered the pass.

As they continued, her muscles loosened, and she steadily filled the blank pages, using any and all blank space she could, while still making the things she needed to brush up on all too clear. I’ll need all this at least well understood, before I can properly use the full inscriptions from Holly.

The caravan was well inside the shadowed pass when she heard someone begin to climb the ladder.

“Mistress Tala?”

She straightened out of a particularly deep stretch, turned towards the ladder but remaining seated. “Brand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Come on up.”

He pulled himself up, bearing a tray laden with food.

“Good to see you, Brand. What’s on the menu, today?”

He held out the large wooden bowl, showing her the content. “A large salad, while we’re still close to some gardens that can grow it for us.” He smiled. “Bought out half the stalls in the fresh food market this morning.”

Tala grinned, taking the offered bowl and fork. “Thank you. Dressing?”

“A garlic herb vinaigrette.”

“You know how to spoil me.” She set the bowl down. “What can I do for you?”

He waved the question away. “I have to get back to work.”

“Very well.” She picked up the bowl as he moved back towards the ladder. However, he hesitated with his head still poking up.

“Mistress Tala?”

“Hmmm?”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

He quirked a smile. “I think you know.”

Before she could respond, he sank out of sight. “Huh…” She looked down at the salad, then back up to where Brand had disappeared. She smiled to herself as she dug into the delicious salad.

* * *

Her lunch complete, she took time to slowly restart her stretching and note taking as she digested, continuing to work through her sore muscles. In her deep, internal looks, she also noticed some areas in which the muscles were still much weaker than those surrounding them, and so she also began to work on rounding out her fitness. And here I thought I found all those slackers.

A couple of slow, satisfying hours passed, before she was fully done, and she was able to turn her attention to another task.

Her soul felt mostly recovered. That still feels odd to think… She did another group of progressively easier sets with her knife, thoroughly working her spiritual muscles without approaching overexertion. I hope.

Again, she pulled out ‘Soul Work’ and attempted to decipher anything meaningful from the warded book.

She did not succeed.

Disgruntled, she put the book back in the pouch. “Thanks anyway, Kit.”

The pouch did not respond.

She pulled out the water incorporator, drank a little, then sent a large stream shooting out to the side, to exercise her power, once more.

Tala laid back, twiddling her thumbs. I’ve so much to do, but I don’t know what to do first.

Just do the next thing, Tala.

Well, what thing’s next?

What comes to mind? Brand. I didn’t ask him about the press. She groaned, sitting up. Might as well.

She climbed down, dropping from the moving wagon, and walked back towards the chuckwagon. It felt really nice to be using her legs, and she reminded herself that she’d enjoyed walking beside the caravan on the previous trip.

She gave a short knock on the chuckwagon’s back door, and it swung open, revealing an assistant cook, whom she’d not seen before.

“Mistress? Can I help you?”

She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. “Yes. Is Brand free for a moment? I have a quick question.”

The older man looked surprised. “Yes, of course Mistress.” He disappeared inside, and she could hear him calling out to Brand, and discussing with other cooks. She tried not to listen. After all, she didn’t need to know what they were saying. It would be rude…right?

A minute later, Brand came out, wiping his hands free of flour on his apron. “Mistress Tala? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes. Everything’s fine.” She smiled. “I just have a strange question.”

“Sure.”

“Do you happen to have a cider press, or something like it?”

He hesitated, then started nodding. “For the…berries. Am I right?”

She smiled. “Correct.”

He smiled in turn. “I do, yes. I’ll even let you use it, if you don’t clean it after.”

She laughed. “Hoping to get some juice out, after?”

“One can hope.”

“Sounds fair. I’ll try to be quick, as well.” Thinking of a part of her discussion with Grediv, she frowned. “Anything you use it for shouldn’t go to other Mages. It could interfere with their power. Not violently, but it would be inconvenient to weaken our protectors.”

Brand gave her a surprised look. “Really? Of course, then.”

She shrugged. “I know it does for an Archon, so I’d assume so for any Mage, or inscribed.”

He clicked his tongue. “Fascinating. I knew that some Mages could eat that which us mundanes could not, I had not truly considered the reverse.” He smiled. “I will keep that in mind. Thank you.” He went back inside and quickly returned with a metal-bound, wooden device. There was a spout out the bottom, and a wheel-like handle on top.

“Thank you, Brand.” She slipped it into Kit. It was just small enough to go in.

Brand regarded her belt pouch. “You know, I’m sure that opens wider than it used to.”

“Could be.”

He smiled, again. “I’m glad that your purchase is working out.”

“Thank you for introducing me to Artia.” She waved. “I’ll try to get this back to you by dinner.”

He nodded, turning back and closing the door.

Tala returned to her wagon, affixing her bag open as before and slipping inside, leaving her hat to act as a hatch, of sorts.

The cider press was already sitting on the worktable, spout pointed out, an empty keg waiting below.

Tala laughed. “Thanks, Kit. Let’s do this.”

The warm comfort was ever present as she worked, processing all the berries she’d harvested, which she hadn’t consumed or traded away.

As it turned out, the meat of the berries had virtually no power in and of itself. Thus, she was actually able to increase the concentration of power, by removing that mostly neutral material. I suppose that part is needed for the natural processes of the fruit?

In the end, she took the roughly nine gallons of crushed berries, and turned it into five gallons of berry juice, storing it in two kegs and her one jug. There was a bit extra, which fit into her flask rather perfectly. She ensured the keg and jug were properly sealed, then checked them over with her magic detector. The iron-salve barrier was intact and effective, the jug resting inside its salved sack.

She finished clean-up, leaving the press dirty, and climbed back out of Kit.

It was pushing towards evening, and they were almost through the pass. She stood and stretched. An afternoon well spent.

She took a few minutes to return the press to Brand, offering him the pressed berry remains, which he happily accepted, explaining that he could still boil them down, to make a wonderful dessert, even if it wouldn’t be quite as flavorful, without the majority of the juices. He also assured her that he would make up something extra special for the Mages, to keep them from the berry dish.

That accomplished, she decided to walk up and down the much longer caravan, continuing her review of human biology.

She thought she saw the other Mage on the far side of the caravan, but it was only a flash. If she was right, he was a much older man, maybe in his fifties. I was beginning to wonder if caravanning was a young person’s game. It seemed that that wasn’t the case.

The mountain pass was stunning in the late afternoon light, though most of that was reflected off the eastern slope. She breathed in the cool, crisp air and smiled. I’ve nothing but time.

“Ho! Mistress Tala!”

She opened her eyes, turning to regard the man riding up to her. Rane. “Hello. Master Rane, right?”

The massive man swung down off of his horse, and Tala got another good look at him.

He wore standard Mage’s robes, by their cut, at least. They had quick releases and were excellently crafted.

I could have gone that route, to avoid always losing clothes. She was still mildly uncomfortable at the prospect, however. Even though she kept ending up naked, she generally preferred to be as covered as possible. Merilin’s elk leather clothing facilitated that, nicely.

Aside from the Mage’s robes, he wore sturdy sandals, the straps and his inscriptions seemingly designed to avoid each other, for the most part. He also wore an odd wooden handle on his belt. It almost looked like a slim, two-handed sword hilt, but there wasn’t a visible blade, instead the object ended in a small, oblong ring, affixed to Rane’s belt. Her mage-sight showed dimensional distortions around the ring, however. A dimensional storage, specifically for that weapon?

“Yes, Mistress. Glad you remembered; I was afraid you wouldn’t bother.”

What’s that supposed to mean? She smiled sweetly. “Well, you made quite the impression. It’s hard for a girl to forget something like that.”

He grimaced. “I…I do apologize for that, Mistress. I’m not good at realizing how my words will sound to others. Master Grediv always called it a soon-to-be-fatal flaw.” He smiled with the last, trying to lighten the mood.

Tala laughed. “I kind of like that.”

His smile turned sheepish. “Yeah, it always struck me as pretty funny.” His smile faded a bit. “I’m pretty sure he was never joking, though…”

There was a momentary pause, as Tala waited for him to say something more.

Instead, the big man shifted his grip on the horse's reins and fell into step beside her.

“So, Master Rane, how can I help you?”

“Hmmm? Oh, I thought it would be nice to walk for a bit, and you were walking.”

When he didn’t elaborate, she prompted, again. “So, you want to walk? Talk? What, exactly?”

He shrugged, looking obviously awkward. “Master Grediv said that you were someone worth knowing. So, I guess I’d like to get to know you?”

Tala blinked in surprise at that. He said that? It did seem in line with other things he’d told her. “Huh…imagine that.”

“Yeah.” Rane laughed. “Most of the time he tells me to avoid this person, or not to speak to that person more than necessary. There have been a few that he’s pointed out, like Master Trent, but I’ve not heard him give the sort of recommendation he gave for you, before.” After a deep breath, he continued. “Also, he said I’m to keep you from endangering yourself, if I can.”

She actually felt herself flush a little. “I…don’t know what to say to that.”

He shrugged, again. “I guess there isn’t a need for direct response. I am at least partially responsible for the safety of every member of the caravan anyways, as one of the Mage Protectors.” He cleared his throat, changing the subject. “So, Bandfast: Are you from there?”

Her expression stiffened, and she turned her attention back to the way ahead. “That is my home. It will be good to be back, I think. I’ve some work to do before I can go out, again.” She sighed. Not his fault. He’s just trying to be inquisitive. “What about you? Are you from Alefast?”

“Oh, yeah. My family’s been there for generations. Our house’s founder helped build the city, and he likes to keep us close, whenever possible.”

“Keep…present tense?”

“Yeah. He has quite the active hand, though he does so behind the scenes, mostly.”

“Master Grediv is your ancestor.” She said, flatly.

Rane glanced at her with slight surprise. “It’s that obvious?”

“You said your founder was still involved. I know Master Grediv is at least that old, and he is involved with you. It wasn’t a large leap.”

“Oh… I guess so.” He shrugged. “He doesn’t like us referencing our familial relationship. Apparently, it’s caused him issues in the past.” He laughed half-heartedly, then did a passible impression of the much older Mage. “ ‘I’m not leveling another arcane city for one of you idiots. Stop flaunting my name.’ ”

Tala’s eyes widened. “Arcane city?”

“Oh, yeah, Master Grediv says there are a whole bunch of them beyond the wilds. He says society at large has just forgotten about them, and it’s best not to remind them. Causes too many questions.”

She hesitated for a moment. “Like you just did?”

He glanced her way, frowning, then his eyes widened. “Oh! Oh, my… I… Forget I said that. I…” He lapsed into silence.

“You don’t get out much, do you.”

He shook his head, lips firmly sealed.

“First mission alone as a full Mage?”

He nodded.

“Well, I’d recommend thinking through your words, before you utter them. Might help you out.”

Rane gave her an almost pitiable look, then turned to look ahead.

She shrugged. “Well, I’m not just going to babble. We can walk in silence, if you want, but if you want conversation, you’ve got to talk.”

He nodded, again, and didn’t speak further.

What, under heaven, am I going to do with this one?