by Tao Wong
Scry & Observe was just an upgrade on the Scry spell itself, a more complex version that would help with some of the problems I had encountered while using the basic spell. Among other things, I could link the spell across multiple physical objects at the same time, giving me much greater diversity. I knew the next step would actually give me a floating, observing eye, one not linked to any physical surface but that would take a bit to get there.
Lastly, and what I was somewhat stoked about was Confuse. It was my latest spell which had opened a whole new area of magic to me: mind magic. Of course, confuse was the simplest spell and basically bombarded the target’s mind with numerous, random thoughts. When I’d woken up this morning with the spell in mind, I could not help but chuckle at it. First devised thousands of years ago, the spell had not altered much in the intervening years until the onset of radio and television. The latest iteration was a minor update, one that would allow me to pull from multiple, random electronic signals, turning my target into basically a giant television receiver.
I had actually considered playing around with the spell when I had time, using some of the knowledge I had garnered from Heal to create targeted neurochemical imbalances and neuron overfiring. Only problem was, I wasn’t actually clear what the various portions of the spell did or, for that matter, how to alter the spell without say, blowing up someone’s head.
On top of that of course was the issue of bypassing an individual’s natural aura resistance. A spell like Confusion worked because it came at things in a slightly sideways fashion, but the sheer mana required to make the spell work was staggering. Unlike, say, Force Bolt, I had to directly bypass my target’s aura to have the spell affect them. And while Heal did that too, in most cases, the individual either trusted me to do so and thus “opened” their aura or were unconscious. It basically made the cost lower, though, as I knew from experience, not insignificant. Either way, Confuse now gave me a way to deal with individuals without potentially having to hit, punch, or otherwise hurt them.
Whistling, I made my way back toward the house, only to be brought to a halt by an impatiently waiting Alexa.
“Where have you been?” she demanded.
“Class.”
“Why weren’t you answering your phone?” Alexa asked, pointing at her parked car. I scrambled to get in as she ducked within.
“Uhh…” I reached for my phone and stared at the blank screen. “Crap. Forgot to charge it. What’s the problem?”
“There’s an issue at the orphanage. The contractors have damaged the ritual bindings even more,” Alexa said, and her lips thinned before she continued. “The abbess mentioned the children are really feeling uneasy now.”
I nodded at her words, not surprised. Children were, generally, more sensitive than adults. It mostly had to do with their aura strength being significantly lower but also a wider acceptance of the world. That, unfortunately, came with a cost. It was also the reason old, cantankerous bastards tended to be fine living in haunted locations.
“Is it open?”
“Do you think I’d wait if it was?” Alexa asked with a curl of her lip. I blinked and then nodded, accepting the sense in her words.
“Any further clues about what is in there?” I asked while running through our options. Thankfully, I carried my backpack full of materials around everywhere these days, so at least I had some enchanting material to start with.
“I’m told the information is not necessary for the successful completion of the mission.”
I coughed slightly, noting the frostiness in her tone. Still, I knew better than to voice my dissatisfaction. Not at this moment anyway. We had bigger fish to fry. Anyway, I would hopefully have an answer in a few days.
As we turned the corner of the street leading to the orphanage, I let out a low hiss. No surprise there was almost no foot traffic. As a mage, I was significantly more sensitive, but the pervasive chill and the hairs that stood on my forearm were something even a mundane would pick up. Unconsciously, those who could would avoid this road, leaving the area devoid of life. Even those flying rats—pigeons that is—had left the surroundings, content to peck away at discarded refuse somewhere else.
“Can the children live somewhere else?” I asked, holding my hand outward and flushing the air in front of me with my own mana. With my Mana Sight, I could see the way my mana—a pure, clean blue—interacted with the ambient mana in the air. It slowly darkened as the chill that emanated from the orphanage actively infused the newly released energy. I stopped my little experiment and looked back at the building, noting the now-visible glow of the shorted ritual circles. No surprise that a well-made ritual circle didn’t glow like a Christmas tree—or a broken one—did.
“Not long-term. If we moved them out, it’d be a flag for the state,” Alexa said, crossing her arms. “The abbess is planning an impromptu ‘road trip,’ but it’s not a long-term solution. There’s too many of them.”
I grunted, accepting her words. Good thing it was still good enough weather that no one was going to jump up and down if they took the kids out camping or something.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I got out of the car with Alexa after she parked. Together, we hurried within to locate the abbess. The woman, unlike my prejudicial and preconceived notions, was neither old and dumpy nor wrinkly and grumpy. She was, in fact, just another boomer woman in a nun’s habit. Take away the habit, and I probably wouldn’t have given her a second look.
“Magus Tsien,” the Abbess said, inclining her head slightly. “I understand you might have a solution for us?”
“I do?” I said, then coughed. “I do. Right. So we’ve got two problems. The overflow into the streets and the kids.”
“And the breaking seal.”
“That’s for later,” I said, waving my hand to dismiss the abbess’s words. “I’ll need to do a lot more study on that, but I should be able to offer the kids something to bolster their aura. And you all too.”
“The staff do not require such devices,” the abbess said flatly, and I nodded. Fine. I was sure they had their own methods of dealing with it. “What do you require?”
I paused, considering my options. “Let’s start by creating a warding circle in a few rooms. Maybe your cafeteria and gym? Places you can bunk the children down in and where they can congregate. It’ll help in the short-term while I work out portable shields.”
The abbess led me to the gym immediately. It amused me that the gym also consisted of a stage, a place where the children could put on little performances for each other, but my amusement fled quickly when I reached out with my senses to test the surroundings. Damn, there was a lot of bad mana. Even if I locked everything out, I’d need to figure out a mana scrubber of some sort. Though I guess I could let the kids’ own natural resistances slowly cleanse it.
Or maybe not.
“Do you have a woodshop? Or welding equipment? I’ll need solder, wood, paint, and any brushes you can gather,” I said directly to the Abbess who nodded her head and strode off to get going. I turned toward Alexa next while fishing out a notepad from my backpack. “I’m going to give you a shopping list. Do me a favor and pick it up from El? And swing by the house to pick up my mortar and pestle.”
Orders given, I sat in the middle of the gym and started figuring out the ritual of protection. Luckily, I knew quite a few thanks to the knowledge stuffed into my head. I just had to modify the rituals slightly to take in our surroundings and ensure it worked harmoniously. I really, really needed to work on some formation flags. Sometimes, stealing—sorry, borrowing—from other magical conventions could make my life easier, but, right now, I had to work with what I had.
Unconsciously, I continued to sample the corrupted as I worked, running the mana through my system and cleansing bits and pieces as I sat there. Corrupted mana was weird. It didn’t directly injure in the short-term. It was generally a milder poison, one that affected mental and emotional states first before it harmed the body. Exact effects
depended on the mana corruption itself, making individuals grumpy or tired or irate. Mild headaches were part symptom, part defense mechanism on a body and soul’s part. Long-term exposure to corrupt mana on the other hand could lead to fomori, to twisted and corrupted humans, but that kind of effect took years.
The abbess arrived first and deposited my requirements. I ignored her, my hands held out before me as I slowly manipulated the spell formula only I could see. No point in making it visible, so I kept the entire thing visible only to those with the sight. However, to my surprise, I noted she was staring at the space where the formula hung, the model ritual circle slowly rotating as I flooded the construct with mana.
“Interesting. So the rumors are true. You really are not classically trained.”
“Nope.” I slowly clapped my hands together, dispersing the formula. It worked. Now, I just needed the materials from Alexa, and I could begin. “Did you need anything?”
“Do you have a timeline?”
“When it’s done?” I shrugged my shoulders. “Placing the ritual itself should be an hour or two of work. Figure an hour of prep once Alexa is back. Then I’ve got to repeat it for at least one more room. In between, I’ll need to work out how to contain or, better, scrub the mana the building is emanating.”
The Abbess frowned. “The building?”
“Yup. The ritual circle is broken but not completely. It’s like a live wire that’s been stripped, shooting sparks from the stripped areas but still functioning,” I said, shaking my head. “If you haven’t already fired your contractors, you should do it immediately. And then hire someone actually qualified.”
“We have done so,” the abbess said stiffly. “Standard regulations are not to use uncertified supernatural assets, but matters have progressed.”
“Great. Next, this is going to be a lot easier if you tell me what I’m trying to contain.”
“That information is restricted.”
“I just—”
“It is restricted even from me, Magus Tsien,” the abbess said, her brows lowering. “I have no direct knowledge of what is below us.”
“And indirectly?”
“Rumors. Hearsay.”
“Better than nothing,” I said.
“Really? If you were to take insufficient precautions because of what I said, would it be better?”
“No, but I won’t make that mistake,” I said softly. “So…”
“A spirit. A powerful one, not malevolent by nature,” the Abbess said, waving her hand around to indicate the mana overflow. I had to agree. Cold and disturbing as it might be, it was not actively dangerous. If it had been, we’d be in a lot more trouble. “But not a friend of humanity.”
“Thank you. If there’s nothing else, I should work on the formula for the individual works though,” I said.
The Abbess nodded, indicating she would inform me when Alexa made her way back.
Once I was left alone, I sat silent in thought, turning over the information provided to me. In the end, I dismissed it. It didn’t matter, not for what I needed to do now.
Pendants. Those were the simplest to make. A small wooden or metal strip with enchanted spell forms within. The enchantment itself was a variation of the Force Shield spell I had, just with the entire “force” section stripped out and replaced with a modified Healing Ward. I wasn’t actively trying to heal them, of course, but trigger the body’s intrinsic aura, increasing its effectiveness and reinforcing it with the Shield aspect.
Unfortunately, while an individual’s aura was technically part of their body and thus could be healed, my own healing spell wasn’t very targeted. It did help that certain spells—like Confusion and Track—had active components within their spell formula that dealt with an aura. The former to bypass, and the latter to target. It meant I could pull relevant portions of the spell together with my Shield, Heal, and Ward options to cobble together a badly made spell.
With a gesture, I finalized the spell formula and cast it, letting the spell rotate in the air in front of me, fully visible.
Aura Shield
Synchronicity 89%
Efficiency 41%
“41%?” I muttered, staring at the glowing numbers. Given a little more time and effort, I was sure I could raise the efficiency by another 20 percent at least. I knew there was a lot of wasted power, areas I’d taken from other spells that had no place in this one.
“Exactly why do you need hob dung?” Alexa asked, dropping packages by my side.
“Part of the ritual,” I replied. I took a look at the packages, sorting them quickly before I pushed the bag back toward Alexa. “Can you grind the first five ingredients together and then mix them into the paint?”
“The first five…” Alexa’s eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the list in her hand. “That includes the dung.”
“Unless you want me to stop carving pendants,” I said, gesturing at the strip of wood that sat waiting for my first attempt.
“For the children?”
“For the children.”
“I hate you.”
I flashed Alexa a grin as I picked up the hot soldering iron and leaned forward toward the wood. Ah, the privileges of being the specialized help.
By the time I was done with my first working wooden pendant, Alexa had the paint ready.
“Put this on.” I tossed the block to her underhand.
Alexa frowned, gripping the four-inch strip in hand and turning it around. “How?”
“Drill a hole, thread some string,” I said, waving my hand absently as I focused on the paint. It looked like the right color. “Just don’t mess up the runes. Oh, and if you can drill more holes in the wood strips, I can work around them next time.”
Grumbling to herself, Alexa quickly processed the wooden strip and dropped it around her neck. She tilted her head from side to side, as if trying to hear a difference. I ignored her though, since I knew it worked. After all, I had made it. And yes, tested it.
I picked up the bucket of paint and brush, muttering the spell to myself while I considered where to start. Over the entrance doors so it had the best chance to dry, and if someone walked in on me I wouldn’t lose too much work? Or start in the middle of the wall to get a nice flow going?
Decisions, decisions, decisions.
Muttering to myself, I decided on the door itself and grabbed a chair to stand on. Time to get started.
“You could use a ladder…”
“Ladder smadder.”
“What does that mean?”
Meh. I ignored her, propping the chair and standing to reach for the top of the doorframe. Now, where was I? Right, creating a multi-stage, room-wide ritual to contain mana from a decades-old spirit with store-bought paint, dung, and moss.
Breathing was hard. My chest locked tight as I dragged on the dregs of the mana within my body. The ritual had taken more from me to charge than I had expected, the corrupted mana within the building flowing into me at a significantly lower degree than normal. It meant I could not regenerate what I had used as efficiently, draining my internal stores further. And unfortunately, I didn’t have a mana battery of any sort, at least nothing I could drain myself. Stupid.
Still, as I painted the last circle and dotted it, I could feel the ritual snap into place. For a second, it stuttered as it drew upon my body for its initial charge and found my lack of mana disturbing. Rather than let the ritual fail, I bit my tongue and spat the blood directly onto the paint, watching the ritual flare back to life as it drew forth the very life essence I had gifted it. Of course, it wasn’t just any blood, it was blood that had a touch of my life essence. It was the reason why blood magic wasn’t something you could practice on yourself continuously. It wasn’t blood in terms of scientific blood but the life essence, the portion of your soul that burned and thrived. Do it too often, and you’d basically die.
But for a short burst of fuel? Nothing like it.
“Henry?” Alexa’s voice came from behind me, hesitant
but concerned. I ignored it as I focused on the ritual to make sure I hadn’t made a mistake. Given the boost from my blood, the ritual finally managed to draw from the corrupted ambient mana and sprang to life, a protective bubble spreading across the surfaces of the room. It locked the mana within, stopping the flow of the corrupted mana from entering.
With a thump, I sat down and put my head between my legs, breathing deeply.
“Henry?” Alexa said, more urgently now.
“Pain killers.” I groaned around my knees as I tried to focus on my breathing. Right. Smaller room next time.
Dry-swallowing the pills proffered, it took me another half hour before I felt human enough to speak. By that time, the corrupted mana in the room had decreased significantly since the children who had been brought into the room slowly cleansed the mana through their own auras. As I looked around, I noted how many kids there were. And the looks they were giving me.
“Do I have two heads or something?” I muttered to myself.
Alexa, hanging close by, smiled wryly. “No, but you’re a mage. And they’re Templars-to-be.”
“Right. We’re all evil.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“But for the kids, it works out to that, eh?” I said, crossing my arms grumpily and glaring at the kids. It made more than a few look away, though one particular redheaded young teen met my gaze fearlessly. She even wrinkled her freckled nose at me.
“Just about. How’s your mana pool?” Alexa asked softly. A glance upward—which really made no sense, since it was always there—and I answered her.
“Twenty-one percent. I’m going to need to meditate.”
“Okay,” Alexa said simply, and I flopped straight down on the floor again. After a moment’s consideration, I stood back up and hunted down a more comfortable chair while ignoring the little snickers from the kids. I was no damn Buddhist monk.
