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Silver Magi 2

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by D. Levesque




  Silver Magi 2

  D. Levesque

  Contents

  Info

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  About the Author

  Where to find me

  Silver Magi 2

  By. D. Levesque

  Cover art by Karen Dimmick from Arcane Covers

  https://arcanecovers.com/

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  Copyright © 2020 by D. Levesque

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  1

  “It fucking worked!!!” I yell exuberantly.

  “What worked?” asks the black floating ball.

  “You just called me an Elveesian, didn’t you?” I ask it, with a big grin on my face.

  “Yes? That is because that is what you are, Master,” it tells me in a confused voice.

  “Right! So, hmm. Right. What the hell are you?” I ask it. Looking at it closely, it appears to be a black ball about the size of a baseball, floating in the air. It was silver earlier, but now it’s turned black.

  “I am an Elveesian assistant,” it tells me, confused by my question.

  “And do you have a name?” I ask it.

  “Well, the last Master called me Dorahjdahyuagdy,” it says.

  “Whoa! I can’t even get my tongue around that. I can’t call you that!” I tell it in shock. There’s no way that I would even be able to create the sounds required for two or three of those syllables.

  “Ah, well. As you are now my Master, you can call me what you wish,” says the black floating sphere.

  “Well. Let’s see. Something easy. How about Roger?” I ask it. I used to have a teacher named Roger, and he sounded somewhat like this ball does.

  “Ah, that can work, Master. The voice I took is from your memories and it was of this person named Mr. Roger.”

  “Wait, my memories?” I ask it in surprise.

  “Well, yes. That was the cranium transfer. I downloaded all your memories and tried to pick a voice that would put you at ease, and it seems that was the voice.”

  “Well, yeah. He was my teacher in high school. He was always good to me and never pushed me to be something I didn’t want to be,” I tell it. And it’s true. He was the best teacher one could ask for. Even though I was strong in athletics, he never pushed me to do sports. He was also the sports coach, but he still encouraged me to do what I wanted, which is why I kept taking computer classes. He was the only teacher I ever respected.

  “Yes, I know that Master, as I have your memories,” it tells me as if stating something obvious.

  “So, Roger. What does an Elveesian assistant do?” I ask it patiently, ignoring the urge to hit it.

  “I assist,” it says.

  “Roger. Let’s pretend that I have no clue what you are, which is exactly where I stand right now.”

  “But that makes no sense, Master. You are an Elveesian,” it says, confused.

  “Roger? You say you can read my memories?” I ask it, clenching my fists so I don’t punch it out of the air.

  “That is correct, Master.”

  “Then, can you go through them right now and tell me how I came to be an Elveesian?” I ask it patiently.

  “Oh, I can do that, Master,” it says, and then starts to emit a low hum as it hangs in the air in front of me.

  After about five minutes or so, during which I realize while looking around the woods that I can hear nothing in the way of animals, the sphere comes back.

  “Oh! I am sorry, Brandon. I honestly am in a pickle,” Roger says.

  “A pickle?” I ask it, both my eyebrows going up.

  “Yes, a term I got from your memories. It seems that you are an Elveesian but are not an Elveesian. So that causes me to be in a pickle—a dilemma. On the one hand, you were not born an Elveesian. But yet on the other, you have the genetic makeup of one.”

  “So, what exactly does that mean?” I ask it, trying to figure out where this is going.

  “Well, it means that as you are not born an Elveesian, I cannot give you full access to this planet,” it says.

  “Wait, what do you mean full access to this planet?”

  “I am the unit which is the caretaker of this planet. I protect it from external factors that would cause it to be destroyed, such as meteors, asteroids, solar flares, and such.”

  “Oh fuck, so you have been watching out for us so that another meteor and dinosaur event doesn’t happen?” I ask it in disbelief.

  “Dinosaur event? Ah, no. The Elveesian did that, as the animals on this planet were not sentient, and they required the planet. They killed them off as they had no use. Though, we kept their genetic makeup in storage.”

  “Wait, why are we getting sidetracked by dinosaurs? What do you mean full access to the planet?” I ask him, bringing him back on topic. Wait, is it a him? I mean, he has a male voice, and I just called him Roger. Fuck it. It’s now a him.

  “I am the planetary caretaker,” he says.

  “Yes, I got that from what you already said,” I say irritably. “I mean, what do you mean I cannot get full access? What is full access?”

  “As an Elveesian, you would have full access to the database, weapons, and technology available,” Roger states.

  “So, since I am not a full Elveesian, as you say, what do I have access to?” I ask him. Fuck, I wonder what kind of things they have access to? Bet you it was some amazing shit.

  “You have access to me,” he states.

  “You? All right. What does that give me? Any special weapons? New technology never seen before?” I ask him.

  “No, just me. A floating metal ball,” he says.

  “That’s it? What can you do?” I ask him curiously.

  “Float,” Rogers says.

  Closing my eyes, I try not to get upset with Roger, since honestly, I doubt he is doing it on purpose.

  “That’s it? Float?” I ask him finally.

  “Oh no, I can do other things. But for you, I can only float.”

  “Float? That’s it. Can you give me information?” I ask him.

  “Like what?” he asks me.

  “Like, about the Elveesians.”

  “Nope,”

  Is he getting snarky? “Can you tell me if enemies are around?”

  “Nope. Wait,” he says quickly. Then five seconds later, he says, “Nope,”

  “So, you are basically useless to me?” I tell him, trying not to be snarky as well. Fucking ball.

  “Oh, I might be of more use one day. But first I must observe to see how much of an Elveesian you are,” he says.

  “But, you just said that I am not a true Elveesian?” I ask Roger. I am so confused.

  “Yes, as I am only looking at your genetic makeup. I need to observe you to see if you are a true Elveesian.”

  “All right, what does that constitute? What would I need to do to prove to you I am a true Elveesian?”

  “Be able to shapeshift into more than just a Werewolf, or what your memories call a half-hybrid form. As an Elveesian, you sh
ould be able to shapeshift into anything. Also, you must prove that you have magic,” he says.

  “I can do magic,” I tell him and bring up my hand.

  “Paina nala thula melo,” I intone.

  When I am done, I have a ball of light floating next to me.

  “That parlor trick?” Roger scuffs. “No, if you were an Elveesian, you would be able to float this mountain in the air.”

  What the fuck! Are they that powerful? I look at the sphere in shock. “A mountain?”

  “For breakfast,” it says.

  “Are you developing an attitude, compared to when I first met you?” I ask him slowly.

  “Yep, like it? I reviewed some of your race’s media and this Internet of yours. And it seems that is how people interact over it. Though, I must ask, is it hard being that sarcastic all the time?”

  I stare at him in astonishment. Finally, I get my voice and ask incredulously, “You think that is how we all talk?”

  “You don’t?” Roger says in a surprised voice.

  “Fuck, no! Why would you think we all talk like that?”

  “Your media, and all those internet comments,” he says, now sounding unsure.

  Putting a hand over my face, I rub it hard and say, “Roger, we humans don’t talk like that all the time. The Internet has made it so that folks hide behind their screens and say things they wouldn’t usually say, and also our media─.” I stop and put a hand over my face. “ Our media is not a portrayal of how we truly are,” I tell him. I’m not even going to go into porn, which has fucked up men’s views on sex, I think with a chuckle.

  “Well, how do you all talk then?” he asks me, uncertain.

  “Well, I don’t know. How normal people do. God, your view of us is so fucked up, isn’t it? So what’s next? Do you follow me all the time? I mean, it will be hard to hide you if you are floating around. Oh, and why did you change to black from the silver?” I ask Roger.

  “Ah, I switched to black as I am made of silver titanium, in case you were not a real Elveesian. I switched myself to black titanium and put all the silver inside myself. I did not wish to hurt you. As for seeing me, I can hide myself so others cannot see me, except you. Though, that will require me to augment you some. If I can be allowed to?”

  “Wait, whoa? Augment me how? And as for silver, I can hold it, but others around me won’t be able to as it affects them. Except for an actual human,” I tell him.

  “You are safe from silver?” he asks excitedly.

  “Yes, I am fine with it.” As soon as I finish saying that, the ball turns from black to silver and zooms towards my face so fast I expect it to hit me in the forehead again, but it stops an inch away from my face.

  “No adverse effects?” he asks me.

  “None, I feel fine,” I tell him.

  He moves forward until he’s touching my forehead. He’s warm to the touch. “Now?”

  “Nothing. I still feel fine,” I tell him as he backs off.

  “Hmm, then I must observe you more. I had not expected this.”

  “But you said I was genetically an Elveesian,” I told him.

  “Correct, but as you are not fully Elveesian, I expected silver would harm you, as one reason that silver did not affect the Elveesians was their magic.”

  “You say magic, but to me, you are something out of science fiction. How is it that you exist if the Elveesians were magical?” I ask him.

  “Sorry, that is restricted information, Master. One day I might be able to divulge it. Now again, might I augment you?” Roger asks me.

  “Right, so what does that entail?” I ask him.

  “Anal probe,” he says.

  “What?!?” I ask him in disgust.

  “Sorry,” he says with a chuckle, “Couldn’t help it. So for me to augment you, I just need to touch your forehead again,” he says.

  What an asshole. “Fine, go ahead,” I tell him.

  The now silver ball, which I have started calling Roger, floats up to my forehead and touches it lightly. Suddenly I get a shock that sends me flying backward across the top of the mountain and into the bushes behind me.

  “What the fuck!” I yell, getting up quickly. “What the hell was that for Roger? That truly fucking hurt!” I tell him, rubbing the spot where he electrocuted me.

  “Sorry, the transfer isn’t always painless. But it seems to be working. Your right eye might go dark for a second, and you might hear a buzzing in your right ear as well,” he says.

  “What?” I ask him, all my pain gone at those words.

  “I said your right—”

  “No, I heard you. What do you mean it will go dark?” I ask him quickly.

  “The augments are going to reconnect your right eye and your right ear.”

  “Why?” I ask him tentatively.

  “Because I am growing the components that will allow me to observe through your eye and listen through your ear, of course.”

  “What!” I scream. “You’re going to spy through me?”

  “No, not spy. Observe. But you will also gain something from it,” he says casually.

  “Wait, I will?” I ask him, brought up short at that.

  “Yes, you will have the ability to see in the dark, check the levels of someone’s magic, and also be able to hear sounds that are outside your normal hearing range. Your hearing will be stronger, and you will be able to control the levels so that you can hear sounds from far away when you want to,” he says.

  “You’re not going to turn me into some kind of cyborg, are you?” I ask him quickly and with some concern.

  “What’s a cyborg? Oh, wait. Got it. No, I shall not be turning you into that. Wow, you humans are odd. No, I will not augment your strength or make your skin into some kind of metal. Wow, you are one crazy race,” Roger says, and I can almost hear him shaking his imaginary head.

  Unexpectedly, the vision in my right eye starts to fade until I can’t see, and then my right ear starts to buzz, before I lose my hearing completely. Blinking my eye doesn’t do anything. I put my hand to my ear and snap my fingers, but I don’t hear anything. I mean, I hear it, but through my left ear.

  “Ah, it’s slowly connecting. Give it a minute,” Roger says in satisfaction.

  Within ten seconds of him saying that, I slowly get my vision back, but it’s off. Almost like I’m seeing through a fish lens. Abruptly, the colors and clarity come back, but then something odd happens. I see text, but not a text I recognize. It’s not in any language I have ever seen before. It flows across the top of my eye before disappearing. Turning to Roger, I get an even bigger shock. I see a blue circle that zooms in on him, like a target, and slowly spins around him. Flowing away from him is a line of text , but again, I can’t tell what it says. It’s in the same language as the text that flowed across my vision.

  “Roger, what the hell is going on?” I ask him, unsure. But then that question is the least of my problems, as my right eardrum feels like it suddenly ruptures. There is an intensely loud explosion of sound, as well as severe pain. I put my hand to my ear, and I scream in agony.

  “Shit! Sorry Master. Sleep now,” I hear Roger say, followed by nothing but blackness, and I feel myself hitting the ground. Before I pass out, I hear him say, “Oops.”

  Slowly I come around, with the sun beating down on my face. I feel groggy, as if I am drunk. As I get up, my head starts to clear. The pain in my ear is gone, thank God.

  “Roger!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

  “Yes?” he says from behind me, and I roll away quickly and turn to look at him.

  “What the hell happened?” I ask him angrily.

  “Yes, it seems that the hearing augment was more intense than expected. It seems your race has shitty hearing,” he says crossly.

  What the fuck, is he getting mad at me for having shitty hearing? “What do you mean? We hear pretty well,” I tell him defensively.

  “No, you don’t. Here is what a normal Werewolf hears, or what the race called
Werefolk do,” he says. Suddenly I hear sounds in my right ear that weren’t there before. I can hear birds singing, and animals moving around in the bush and calling out to each other As I move my head around, the sounds change.

  “Oh, wow!” I say out loud.

  “Yes. Now here is what an Elveesian can hear,” he says, and suddenly that deafening roar of sound comes again. There is no separation between the sounds. It’s just a loud roar.At least this time it only brings me down to my knees to cover my ears, without too much pain. Thankfully, after a few seconds, it’s cut off.

  “What the fuck?” I say to him, looking at him floating four feet away from me.

  “That is what they hear,” he says smugly.

  “It’s just a roar of sound!” I tell him in disbelief.

  “No, to you it’s a roar of sound. An Elveesian can pick out each individual sound and differentiate them. So I had put you to sleep earlier to re-tune it.”

  “How long was I out for?” I ask him now, curious.

  “Only what you humans call twenty minutes. I will only augment your hearing a little higher than a human until you get used to it over time, and then slowly increase it. This is something we will need to work up to,” Roger says to me.

  “Well, glad to hear I don’t need to be living with a deafening roar in my ear. Now, I guess I should get back. Oh shit, wait. If I’ve turned into an Elveesian or an Incubus, why do I look the same?” I ask him.

  “What did you think you would look like?” Roger asks me.

  “Well, I don’t know. Maybe I’d have horns, or a tail?” I tell him, disappointed.

  “Ah, from your memories, I see what you mean. No, Demons aren’t real,” Roger says.

  “Oh, so Demons are fake?” I ask him.

  “No, the name is fake. The race itself is quite real,” he says arrogantly.

 

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