The Magic, Broken

by Rick Field

  The servant knocked on the large double doors of the drawing room, only opening upon the command from inside. With ease of practice, the man pushed both doors open simultaneously. “The Lady Liane, the MagicWarper, and guest,” he announced her presence. She walked inside as if owning the property. “Good afternoon, My Lords, My Lady,” she said. The occupants of the room, two men and one woman, returned her casual greetings.

  The room Steve followed the Kirian native into was large, and furnished with expensive and high-quality furniture. The walls were solid stone, with one large window overlooking the back of the property.

  “Welcome, My Lady,” the senior of the three spoke. “It is with pleasure I see you are unharmed.”

  Liane took a seat, and indicated for Steve to sit as well. He had been about to do so, and startled at the idea that he hadn't been permitted without her permission. The Pillar looked at the people present. The man who had spoken to her was in his sixties, a man with great experience in administrative and political intrigue but with waning reserves of power. His grayish hair had developed a bald spot, but his bright blue eyes were sharp and vivid.

  “Unfortunately, My Lord, the Lord General proved uncooperative to my requests,” she answered calmly. “Regrettably, as the case has not been closed, I am unable to disclose more than that.”

  The three Nobles present nodded, they were all Pillars; they knew the rules. “Perhaps then, My Lady, you would care to introduce your... guest?” the woman asked, looking straight at Steve. Liane turned her attention to Enia of the Waterfalls, the female Pillar. The middle aged Noble was darker in skin and hair than the average Kirian, her eyes as dark brown as to be almost black.

  “As I returned to the Capital to file my report, I was called for an emergency, My Lady,” Liane explained. “It seemed that the Great Barrier was breached.”

  The three Pillars inhaled sharply, their curious gazes intensifying. Steve was by no means easily cowed or scared, but he still found the triple stare uncomfortable. “As it turns out,” Liane continued as if not noticing the glares directed at her traveling companion, “that breach was unintentional.”

  Morden of the Weeping Willow, the senior Pillar in the room, turned his gaze toward Liane. “I did not believe that was possible, My Lady,” he said, half in statement and half in question.

  “Under normal circumstances, it would not be, My Lord,” Liane answered calmly. “It is tied in to my earlier case regarding the Lord General.”

  The other Pillars were silent, digesting her words, coming to the same conclusions. “Then it is a good thing the Lord General resisted,” Enia said.

  The second man, who had remained silent up until now, focused back on Steve. The man was maybe a decade older than Liane, but his body was broad and muscular. Joran of the Mountains spoke with a voice that was as deep as his name indicated. “May I ask why you bring a foreigner into our house, My Lady? I should rather think that execution be a more likely course of action.”

  Liane once more commended Steve for keeping silent while he was talked about as if not present in the room. She could see him pale, and thought quickly on how to both respond to Lord Joran's comment and reassure Steve at the same time. “I administered Truth Serum with his full compliance, My Lord. After I established his innocence in the matter, and established that he wished no harm against Kiria, I decided to take him to the Capital, with the Overseer's backing. His fate should be up to people above us.”

  The three Pillars nodded reluctantly, and the conversation abruptly changed directions. Steve sat and listened, more often than not completely mystified about the topics of their talks.

  By the time dinner was served, barely an hour and a half later, the pilot was exhausted. He dined with the Pillars, despite having been ignored since Liane's explanation of him. The food was plentiful, but far spicier than he was used to. He ate slowly, regardless of his hunger, and excused himself politely as soon as the dishes had been cleared.

  It wasn't until he was following a servant up the stairs that he remembered that he had spoken out of turn when he had excused himself, and that Liane had sent him a rather angry look. As soon as the doors closed behind him, he fell on the bed, realizing how close he had come to something awful.

  Chapter Six

  They left early the next morning, after a breakfast that was both plenty and hardy, just between the two of them. The other Pillars present in the house appeared to still be asleep, and both Liane and Steve were happy for it.

  The city was still waking up when they set out for their voyage to the Capital. Steve, after a couple of good meals and decent rest, felt ready to tackle anything life threw at him and was determined to both learn about the country he was now in, and be respectful of it. If fate had thrown him up to be an Ambassador, then he'd do his best to be one.

  Liane merely walked in silence, recognizing that her company was going through some form of change. “That is a beautiful building,” Steve suddenly said, drawing her attention just as they were about to leave the Upper City.

  Liane looked at the first building one saw if one entered the Upper City. For a few moments, she studied the building herself. It was a gothic monstrosity that offended her normal Kirian tastes; she much preferred the more utilitarian style of megalithic construction that most Kirian public buildings employed. “It is the Eunan City Hall,” she explained as she allowed her gaze to travel up its large central tower, up to the intricately carved steeple pointing toward the heavens.

  “It's beautiful,” he re-iterated. Despite not liking the building or its style herself, Liane was glad to hear that the man was starting to appreciate some of the things Kiria had to offer. “Is there a reason why the tower isn't in the exact center of the building? It's rather odd that the left wing is shorter than the right.”

  A small smile tugged at Liane's lips. Ever since Master Necromancer Veyrùn's supposedly haunted castle at the center of the Forest of Philip, she had made it a point to read up on ancient legends. “There is an interesting tale regarding the Eunan City Hall,” the Pillar explained as they navigated to the city's gates. “The construction itself was over 600 years ago. You must understand, back then, magic was not as developed as it is today. These days, we would not have had the difficulties the architects and artisans of those days had.”

  Steve nodded, it made perfect sense to him. Liane went on, “back then, there was a large marsh here. For normal construction, and normal buildings, the marsh was a mere annoyance. Unfortunately, when the architect wished to erect his vision of City Hall, he found the marshy ground to be unable to bear the weight of his designs. These days, one would contact a Water-master to drain the marsh, and an Earth-master to raise sufficient foundations. Six hundred years ago, elemental magic could not aid the man, and so he went to see the priest.”

  She glanced at him. “Priests were as mysterious then as they are now, and very little is known of their abilities to contact the gods and intercede on our behalves. All that is known is that priests can bring forth miracles. Depending on the deity involved, those miracles come with a cost. The architect of the City Hall went to the priest, and begged assistance.”

  Steve was doing his best not to stare, but she still caught his surprise. “You have a question?” she asked.

  The foreign pilot nodded. “Your priests... actually deliver miracles?” he asked, sounding as if he wondered why he was still surprised.

  “Sometimes,” Liane replied. “If one goes to a priest, they will contact the deities on the applicant's behalf. One never knows beforehand which deity, if any at all, will come forth to bargain for the request. We have very few Priests these days, and many wonder if their abilities and magic will die out within a few generations. It would be a loss to lose their skills, even if very few go to a priest these days. There are deities one does not wish to reply to a request, such as the one who answered the call of the architect in the story of the City Hall.”

  Steve nodded obediently, feeling happy th
at he wasn't particularly religious. “So it's very much a gamble to go to a priest with a request? You never know if your question will get answered, and if it does get answered, you never know if the God in question will be asking a fair price for the miracle?”

  The Pillar nodded. “Exactly. That was the fate of the architect as well. He went to the Priest, begging assistance with the construction of the City Hall. One of the Gods honored his request, with two conditions. The first was that the tower would never sit in the center of the building, and the second was that the architect would deliver his soul to the God immediately upon finishing construction.”

  “That's very... odd,” Steve said. “Why would an omnipotent deity not wish the tower to be in the center of the building?”

  Liane's lips quirked again, and ignored the question. “The architect agreed to the conditions, and started his work. Construction went unnaturally fast, with an uncanny lack of accidents or incidents. Soon, the right wing and the tower rose to the skies. Against the deity's warning, and the Priest's deal, the architect broke ground for the left wing to place the tower exactly in the middle. A massive sinkhole was discovered, and work moved at a snail's pace. Workers were injured daily, and revolted angrily. The project was deemed cursed by the deal made and broken by the architect. One day, he was visited by the Priest. The deity was reminding him of his deal.”

  They had left the city well behind by now, and Liane turned to look at Steve. “The next morning, he was found, hanging from a rope tied to the support beams of the entrance way. He'd delivered his soul to the deity. The left wing was finished where it was, legend says that no further workers were injured when they no longer pushed the wing beyond where it was.”

  The pilot swallowed, and looked over his shoulder to the city in the distance. “That is... interesting,” he finally said.

  “I have the feeling you don't believe me,” Liane answered, her lips quirking again. He started to protest, and she stopped him. “It is over six hundred years ago, legends distort over time. One never knows what the truth is and what fiction is when dealing with information from that far back. It may just be that a sinkhole was discovered only after they erected the right wing and the central tower. Or the architect really did make a deal with a malevolent deity. Either could be true, or they both may be.” She shrugged. “Priests do not keep documentation or written records, and they are reclusive and mysterious. They certainly will not tell us if they have any information regarding the tale or not.”

  The man seemed to accept the explanation, and lost himself to his thoughts once more. Liane was more than happy to give him the time to think. The walk back to the Capital was a nice one, and she was going to enjoy it. She'd done some touch-up work to her magic last night, her body felt fine, and she was glad to be back to being completely healthy.

  They had been walking in silence for close to twenty minutes, before Steve looked at her. “Can I ask you about magic?”

  “Of course,” Liane replied, making sure she was hiding her relief at his question. She much preferred discussing her favorite subject instead of politics and policies.

  “Just what can you do using magic?” he wondered, his question coming almost immediately after her agreement.

  Liane fell silent for a few moments, trying to order her thoughts into her reply. “That is a very loaded question,” she finally answered. “If you ask what is possible, in general, using magic, then the answer would be 'everything'. If you wonder what I, personally, can do with magic, it would be 'almost everything'. I think it would be the equivalent of me asking what you can do using your science.”

  Steve shrugged, and acknowledged his poorly asked question. “You're right, that was a stupid question.” He frowned, obviously deep in thought on how to rephrase his question, and Liane chose not to interrupt him. Finally, he looked up. “Are there any limitations on magic? Let's say, can you create gold out of thin air?”

  The Pillar once more ordered her thoughts, she wanted to give a comprehensive and accurate reply. “There are limitations to magic,” she acknowledged. “And yes, it is possible to create gold or other base metals out of thin air. The cost is usually prohibitive, the amount of magic required to turn air into metal would drain even the most powerful Nobles within moments. Using Alchemy, however, it is possible to create the Philosopher's Stone, which is a magical substance that actually holds magical energy that can be used specifically for alchemical or transmutation purposes. The best way to explain it would be that the cost of the action remains the same, but the Philosopher's Stone allows you to invest quite a lot of energy over a longer period of time, energy that can then be used and released at once to create gold. Of course, the magical properties of the Philosopher’s Stone also aid in healing, and a host of other abilities.”

  Steve obviously hadn't been expecting that. “I guess you guys don't have troubles finding gold, then,” he said.

  Liane gave a faint shrug of her shoulders. “The Philosopher's Stone is restricted. Some of the elements needed in its creation are restricted to registered alchemists to prevent the unbridled creation of gold and other metals, which would undermine our economy. As Pillar, I am required to sometimes examine cases where this restriction has been circumvented.”

  “I can understand that,” the pilot said empathically. “We hunt down counterfeiters as well.”

  “Counterfeiters?” Liane asked, not recognizing the word.

  “People that create false money,” the foreigner explained. “You don't have people creating false money in your country?”

  “We do, but very rarely,” the Pillar explained. “As our tokens are base metals, copper, silver, and gold, it's usually sufficient to arrest those dabbling in unlicensed alchemy. After all, the weight of a coin will vary substantially if one were to try substituting other metals or elements. Those that try are usually caught quickly.”

  “That makes sense,” Steve said. “So, about magic, what kind of limitations are there? So far, I've seen you break the laws of physics quite openly.”

  A smile tugged Liane's lips upward. “Magic invariably has its own laws,” she explained. “For example, instantaneous transportation is impossible, as far as we know. Building a transportation device, yes, but instantaneous transportation, no. Also, magic will work within the laws of physics, to a degree.” She chose not to go into exceptions, like the teleportation mechanisms used by the Academy to deliver food to the rooms and do the laundry for the students. Those actions were extremely short range, required oodles of energy, and could not be used to transport living beings.

  She rubbed her chin for a few moments, thinking of the best way to give an example regarding magic's abilities, banishing her momentary thoughts on the transportation arrays used by the Academy, and the darker thought of how the sender array scanned the item to destruction, while the destination array basically used transmutation to faithfully recreate the scanned item out of thin air – literally.

  She reached out with her free left hand, and a small stone from next to the road floated up into it. “For example, magic can, during its execution, bend or break the laws of physics. The results after one stops feeding it magic depends on the type of spell.” She threw the rock. “Just like I can kick or throw the stone, it will only roll as far as the energy I have given it will allow it to roll. After that, it will remain in its new position until something else interacts with it.”

  Steve nodded, and Liane motioned. The stone floated back. A small spell later, and the dull grey stone turned a bright and garish purple. “This is a color-change spell. I have altered the fabric of the stone, and it will remain purple until someone alters it. This is a permanent-type spell.” She held the stone out, and held it so it dangled from her fingers.

  “I can hold it up in my fingers until I stop feeding it energy,” she went on to say. “If I were to stop-” the stone fell to the ground, “then it will fall. Using magic, I can hold it up as well,” the stone floated back into their field of vi
sion, “until I stop feeding it magic.” the stone fell once more. “That was a non-permanent type of spell. Just as a physical reaction, magic can impose either a permanent or a non-permanent change on an item. A permanent change results in a new stable setting for an item or an element, and it will remain that way after the spell is released. A non-permanent spell is like the one I just demonstrated. An item's physical characteristics weren't changed, but its status was. Such spells are temporary, and fall apart after one stops feeding them energy.”

  Steve looked over his shoulder to the receding purple rock. “But... you can change its color. Can't you change its weight? So it's weightless?”

  “And there,” she said, “you reach the limit of elemental manipulation. I changed the color of the rock by altering its composition. I altered the very outmost layer of the rock so it would be purple. In effect, I have altered the composition of its outer layer to be of a composition that would give the color I wished. If I were to effect a mere color-change without permanently altering the composition, it, too, would have been a temporary spell. Making something weightless would mean that I would need to change the composition into one that had no weight. I know of no such material, so I cannot alter the stone into it.”