Chapter A.4: Vesper and Inara's Downtime

Vesper, Inara, what are you up to in the days following the weird hunt?

Research shoggoths: [3, 1] Result: Failure ❌

If the books in Inara’s sanctum had information on shoggoths, that information isn’t in any logical spot. Nothing to be found in any index or glossary in all the bestiaries or encyclopedias. Much less “teacup” shoggoths.

Perhaps another library will have information, but Inara’s library is a good representative of the standard sample of books that could be expected to be found in a wizard library. Whatever collection she next searches through would have to be much larger or more specialized than Inara’s own.

There may also be information about shoggoths that hasn’t been published. Researching the history of the place they were found or finding a specialist to talk to may be the best way to move forward on this project.

The sanctum's curved stone walls arch high overhead, lit by the soft glow of candles ensconced in rusted iron sconces. Stacked bookshelves line the circular sanctums rough-hewn walls, packed with eclectic tomes on every arcane subject imaginable. Enchanted flames crackle behind a fireplace, keeping the air warm without smoke, and a comfortable armchair nestles next to it, padded leather well-worn from many hours of study.

I slam yet another unhelpful book shut and toss it onto the table next to my chair. The leather squeaks as it slides across the polished wood, fetching up against a stack of previous readings. Another dead end. There's no record of the shoggoths in my library. Even the most obscure bestiaries and compediums in Arcanum's archives only had a few offhand mentions of creatures that might be the same as the ones I encountered in the abandoned lot.

You've been researching non-stop for days. Vesper says. Why not take a break?

"I don't need a break. I need answers. There's more to those creatures than met the eye, and if I'm going back into that lot I want to be prepared."

I think you're just wasting time. You said you'd let me teach Alric magic once we returned. It's been three days!

I reach for another book rather than respond, leaving her to simmer in the back of mind as I scowl at the sparse section on eldritch horrors. The author suggests running rather than fighting. Useless.

I stand and gather up the books. Arcanum's archives are bigger than mine. I already went through them once, but I could do it again. Ask one of the librarians to cast a divination for me. Search properly, rather than skimming for an hour.

Or we could go back to the Dawn Commission's headquarters. Vesper says. Alric will be there.

Ugh. "What are you even hoping to do for him? He can't learn magic."

There's more magic than wizardry.

"Wizardry is the only magic worth having." It's a rote response, drilled into me from the day I began learning under my grandmother. "But fine, if it gets you to stop nagging me, you can go talk to him about the lesser arts."

It's a curious sensation, switching. Like falling over backward, only it's my mind that falls, unhooked from the body and free to float —

— forward, latching onto the empty body. About time, too. Three days and I haven't fronted once. Inara's obsession with research and magical practice would be impressive if it weren't keeping me locked in the back.

I crack my neck and grab my gear from the table, buckling the gambeson on before tying Inara's ornate red and gold robe over it. The sanctum has three rooms, a library, a bedroom, and the chamber of doors. It's the last that I head to. It's a small, cubical chamber cut from rough rock and lit by flickering torches. Illusions, of course, casting false light and false heat.

Three doors stand in the center of the chamber. An ornate deep red stained ebony door in an equally elegant frame. An arched oaken door carved with curling rose vines. And a beige metal door with a push-bar handle and an EMPLOYEE ONLY: KEEP OUT sign in red-and-white.

It's the last one that I head to, pressing the bar and striding through, into the magical archives of the public library. Fluorescent light bathes beige metal shelves loom all around me, laden with books. The speckled gray carpet pads my footsteps as I walk through the stacks, up a flight of stairs, and through a back door.

A grey, overcast day greets me. I stop in the weed-ridden alley and look up at the sky, grinning and spreading my hands wide. Freedom —

Don't you have somewhere to be? Inara says. Get a move on.

— well, as free as I can be with a grouchy wizard in my skull.

The trip to the headquarters is short and uneventful. I check the rooms one by one. No Alric. Damn. And Inara's getting restless...

I stop by the 'library' and ask Saije if she knows where he is.

Saije doesn't spend all her time at work in the 'library' (which she freely admits deserves the scare quotes), but she is around frequently enough to run into Vesper when she looks for her.

Saije looks up from her typing. "I last saw Alric a couple days ago. He's been talking with Sawyer, but as far as I know, is alive and has avoided picking up any permanent scars." She smiles, chagrinned and recognizing she may have been too flippant. "I'm joking. Mostly. Sawyer is actually much more safety conscious than he was in the past and wouldn't deliberately hurt an aspiring practitioner. Why are you looking for Alric?"

Saije notices the clock. "And it's also past lunchtime. Have you eaten yet?" She locks her computer, stands and stretches.

"Tell you what," Saije says, "there's a good sandwich place a block from here. My treat, come on."

She shrugs on her coat and beckons the wizard to follow her.

"So, what have you been up to?"

Trapped in the darkness of my own mind, unable to do anything. "Oh, nothing much. Just researching the shoggoths. I'm planning to go back to that lot and clear them out once I know more about them — wouldn't do to go in unprepared."

I follow Saije out the door. "And I was looking for Alric because I promised to help him learn magic. But I guess he already found a teacher?"

"Better you than me, sister. From what Lucian wrote up about them they sounded like nasty pieces of work. Sorry I can't help you much -- I would normally refer you to Sawyer if you are looking for information on rare Outsiders, but it sounds like you already met him."

Saije fiddles with a bracelet while waiting for the elevator down. "He's likely found a teacher, but that doesn't mean he couldn't use another one. Multiple sources of information are important, yeah? Reduces the leverage any single source has got on ya." She looks 'Inara' over. "I didn't think wizards taught non-wizards."

I shrink back from her piercing gaze, catching myself after half a step against the elevator's cold metal railing. "Wizardry might be the pinnacle of magic, but that doesn't mean there aren't other arts. When I made that promise it seemed like nobody else was going to help out Alric and I figured he could at least look through my books and find a practice he could use. Blood magic, or dream magic, or something."

I shrug. "If Sawyer is teaching him, I doubt I can contribute anything, but I'll stop by Bright Books later today and see how he's doing."

Saije shrugs and offers a smile. "Don't sell yourself short. You never know when a seemingly small contribution might actually be really valuable."

Their elevator reaches the ground floor, and the two walk through the lobby bustling with the denizens of the other companies in the building scurrying to and from their lunch breaks. Saije holds the front door open for 'Inara' and then leads the way to her chosen sandwich shop. Once on the street, she continues the conversation, the sounds of the city masking any casual eavesdropping, "Like, I hear that you take down bad mages. I hadn't heard that it happens often, and you probably don't get much recognition for it, but I bet that to those you've helped -- their victims -- it has meant the world." She shrugs. "I'm hardly a mage at all, and can really only take down the fake psychic scammers, but I think even small contributions and shallow magic can really help."

I try not to wince as Saije talks about Inara stopping dark wizards. Chances are, she'd count me among those needing to be stopped if she knew what I had done. "Not often, no. But that's what magic is about, you know? Impact. Making a ripple in the world." I don't say that the sort of impact I'm looking to make isn't the kind where you risk your life to bring down the bad guys. "What makes you say you're hardly a mage?"

“Well, mostly the fact that I hardly do magic. I just know enough to identify most of the fake stuff. … And most of the time I just do the boring lawsuit stuff, and not any magic at all.” She looks a bit embarrassed. “But, you know. I may hardly compare to a great dark wizard hunter like you. And you might not compare to polymath magic teacher like Sawyer. But our minor contributions can still help.”

An uneasy chuckle slips from my lips. That's twice now Saije has talked up 'my' monster hunter life. She's not messing with me — is she? "Sure. Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

I stare out at the street for a moment, organizing my thoughts. Because there's something else to what Saije said, something that I can't quite let go. "The day I failed the Arcanum exam changed everything for me. I barely slept in the weeks following it — magic was the most important thing in the world, the only thing I could think about. I would have done anything to learn more. How can you say you barely know magic and just... accept that?"

Saije blinks, frowning slightly. Something isn't adding up, but she can't put her finger on it yet.

"Well, like everything, magic has its costs, and the price for the big stuff is too high for me. Magic isn't the most important thing in the world to me, and I'd rather be a smaller fish if it means I can still stick to the safer shallows."

"No price is too high for greatness." It comes out a little sharper than I intend it to. "If the deeps are more dangerous — so what? Magic makes us stronger, more able to handle those dangers."

“I would guess that the trade off is different for wizards. I don’t have the talent for it. I think if I were to try to pay the price, I’d be likely end up in a mental hospital.” Saije toys with her bracelets again. She had wanted to get to know her new wizard coworker. And, well, she’s getting to know her. They say never meet your heroes. They also say that wizards are almost always arrogant. Inara doesn’t seem arrogant to Saije — just… completely lacking the perspective that someone would value something other than the ability that puts wizards at the top of their perceived hierarchy.

The women arrive at the sandwich shop and Saije turns the topic to banal small talk of which items here are the best, and flows from there to favorite foods and adventures in cooking.

I want to argue with Saije, to reassure her that she's stronger than she thinks she is. It's... sad, to watch someone turn away from the person they could be, to shun greatness and embrace mediocrity. How can she be okay, with such a small, ordinary life, knowing that magic is out there, waiting for her? It's not an unfamiliar view, but it's one I've never understood. Better to burn bright and illuminate your world than smolder in the darkness, wondering what could have been.

But something tells me that if I push her, she'll just clam up even tighter.

I let the topics shift without resistance. It's been a long time since I ate while fronting, and I've missed it. The sandwiches taste sharper, brighter, better without the glass walling me off. I can't tell Saije that, so I just praise her choice of restaurant instead.

We talk about food, and I feel a faint pang of sadness as I remember how much I used to like cooking — and how long it's been since I set foot in a kitchen. Inara always eats at restaurants, or gets takeout.

I don't tell Saije that either, deflecting with a shrug and vague statements about being busy.

The two return to DC HQ and run into Alric in the break room/lobby area on the DC’s floor.

Enter

Chapter A.2: Alric's Downtime

(Vesper does not see the bookmark. Only the bruise and rash.)

"Alric!" I break off from my conversation with Saije and wave Alric over before he can vanish into one of the halls. "I was just looking for you -- Saije told me you've been researching magic with Sawyer. How are things going? You find an art you have an aptitude for yet?"

My eyes flit to his arm, mottled with ugly bruises. I can't help but nod approvingly. Magical backlash hurts but it's good to see someone pushing themselves. Nurturing the flame within instead of snuffing it out.

"Well. According to my memories, since Tuesday, I've had bagels in New York, met a statistically impossible person, well technically almost statistically impossible person, almost died, then cast my first spell, found out I'm a Seer and met a demigod. That was Wednesday. Thursday... " A lot of engineering babble follows. "..., and today I tried my luck at the library again, not that either Martha or the books there are any fucking help, and got attacked by a fucking bookmark. Wait. Scratch that, I am still getting attacked by a bookmark." He holds up his hand. "And only until you decided to be friendly I didn't even consider that I may just be on a massive fucking trip and none of this was real. The bookmark is probably hallucinogenic. Don't touch it."

He looks around, then pokes her forehead with his finger.

"Real or not, can you help me find someone who can fix this?"

I'm too dazed by the onslaught of words to dodge Alric's finger. "You can cast magic now? But it's only been a few days!"

Focus, Inara chides me. If he's being attacked by a monster, that's more important than whatever minor tricks he's learned. He said it was hallucinogenic — heal him or get out of my way so I can handle this.

The bruises on Alric's arm suddenly look a lot more sinister. "Right, of course. One second, let me fix your arm. Then you can tell me more about the, uh, bookmark."

Heal Alric's arm and cleanse the "hallucinogen": [2, 5] Result: Success! 🎯

The rash and bruises fade. The bookmark doesn’t, at least to Alric’s eyes.

Neither Vesper nor Saije can see the bookmark.

"Great, thank you." And now kind? Sure. I'm definitely buying that. "How do we get it off? It's surprisingly resilient to crowbars."

I frown at him. "Get what off? Are you still hallucinating?"

Alric stares at her for a second, then finds the nearest wall and sits down, with his back against it.

"Fascinating. Okay, what I have observed?"

He looks at his hand, still bookmarked.

"I can still see the bookmark stuck to my hand. Actually, wait, before that, obvious things first." He checks his memory for any jumps in scenes. No jumps since waking up this morning. "Okay, not a dream."

"So, I can still see the bookmark stuck to my hand. Crowbars are ineffective against it. I remember touching it first today in the library. It stuck to my hand, I was unable to get it off. I remember notifying Martha who claimed to know who's responsible, and she couldn't help, but she claimed she would find the person responsible to get it fixed, which would take a few days. I remember trying to use my iron crowbar, which should be somewhat antimagic, to no avail. I remember coming here, in the hopes of finding someone who can help. I remember her" He throws a glance at Vesper "casting a healing spell, healing my bruises. I remember her claiming that she can't see the bookmark."

"Let's assume that my memories are correct:

• There is no bookmark. Something is messing with my perceptions.
• There is a bookmark, but only I as a super amazing and capable capital S Seer am able to see it.
• There is a bookmark, but it's only visible to me because of magic. No idea how that works. Curses?

So, the obvious hypotheses are: Martha is also a Seer, or Martha is the culprit.

But.

Let's be honest, between everything Wednesday, in particular Shannon, and her" - he broadly gestures in the direction of Vesper - "being nice, I have a hard time believing that any of this is real."

"So, again, I'm either high as a kite, or, I fear this is more likely: It's still Tuesday, my brain got eaten by the qualia Weird and this is me currently dying on the floor of the university."

"If any of you have better hypotheses to offer, I'll listen, but in the mean time I'll stay put until this resolves itself one way or another."

Detect arcana: [5, 4] Result: Success! 🎯

I stare at Alric, increasingly concerned as he rambles about bookmarks and seers. Something is clearly wrong with him, and it's not a hallucinogen either. The Alabaster Mending would have purged it from his body. I take a few steps back and cast Spectral Sight. The forms flow with practiced ease —

— and there it is, a strip of gossamer stuck to Alric's arm. "I can see it now," I tell him. "Looks a bit like some sort of spiderweb?"

"Yeah, that's it." He sounds tired.

I join Alric on the ground. "So you tried to... what, bash it off with a crowbar? Did Martha tell you to do that?"

"Iron is anti magic, a demigod told me."

"Cold iron is highly effective against fae, but I've never heard of it being generally antimagical." I squint at him. "Did this, ah, demigod appear while you were afflicted by the bookmark? Could it have been a hallucination?"

"According to my memories, the demigod was long before the bookmark, on Wednesday. The bookmark was earlier today. Of course, those memories are most likely hallucinated or implanted."

He shakes the bookmarked hand.

"Can you dispel magic it? Or use the meaning-equivalent of fire? Whatever that would be."

"I don't know a dispel. As for fire, hmm. It's about energy and change, right? How about boiling water? And I'll heal you afterwards, of course." I pause. "Or we could just use fire. I know a spell to conjure the real stuff too, not the sunfire Ina — I mean, not the sunfire I used to kill the shoggoths."

"Inara was the condescension Weird possessing you, right?"

My head knocks painfully against the wall as I recoil from Alric. "What? No. Of course not. That's ridiculous."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He knows. And it's my fault. It's a miracle Inara is asleep right now, because she would be beyond furious if she knew I had spilled the secret to someone else. I have to fix this before she realizes.

"Look, do you want to fix the bookmark or not?" I try to imitate Inara's tone but it comes out weak and timid instead. "I've never even heard about weirds before the other day, okay?"

That much is true, at least. Maybe he'll buy it.

Alric's tired eyes look at her, no, through her. "Mhm. Bummer, I don't know how else to explain it. I remember you not being particularly fond of using the disk of Weird banishment, and then you guys go out and banish the other Weird using the disk, and then the next time we talk it's the first time you're nice. Not 'about to ask for something'-nice, but normal nice. It made sense."

His words have no weight. He's indifferent about both being right and being heard.

"Fire could work, but I'm under the impression that this works on a purely magical level. I'd rather try something that's operating purely on meaning first, before scorching my hand."

"I've always been ni —" I clamp my mouth shut mid-retort. Maybe I'm nice to him, but Inara sure as hell isn't. The less conflicting signals I give him, the less likely he is to actually put the pieces together. "I promised to help you learn magic, but when I came looking for you today, Saije told me you were already apprenticed to Sawyer. I just wanted to see how that went and offer my assistance. You don't know how rare it is to meet someone else willing to reach for greatness no matter how many people tell them no."

And now that same stubborn curiosity is being turned against me. The worst part is, I know exactly what it's like to be on the other side of this. He might be tired now but after he sleeps he's going to come back to this again and again until he figures it out. Fuck. Maybe I ought to just tell him everything and swear him to secrecy... Inara would understand, right?

I stand and offer Alric a hand. "Let's get you to the healer. We can talk about the other stuff afterward."

He takes her hand and gets up. After putting on his backpack, he starts following her.

We walk in silence to the infirmary, my mind an ouroboros of anxiety feeding on itself. How much am I going to tell him? How little can I get away with? I remember the summoning circle and the thing that stepped out of it, shattering the carefully chalked lines as if they were spiderwebs. The casual malice in its eyes. The unbearable burning as it casually waved its hand and fused my soul with Inara's — and the crushing despair in the months and years that followed, locked away in the back of Inara's head.

He doesn't need to know any of that. I'll stick to the broad strokes. Demon of mysteries, two souls, one body. That'll be enough to sate his curiosity... won't it?

It's not until we arrive at the infirmary that my brooding is interrupted.

The infirmary is really an "infirmary." The door that had the iconic red cross and caduceus opens not to an operating room or a clinic room or anything like that... it opens to a closet. The closet contains a fold out gurney, an AED, a packed duffle bag of supplies and loose supplies set on labeled shelves. Bandages, medicines, spare hygiene products, smelling salts, a dream catcher, and more supernatural cures. A unified set all with instructions with pictographs for when and how to use each item.

It's self serve; no healer professional to be found.

As Vesper and Alric examine the "infirmary" closet, Phoenix crosses the hallway behind them. She pauses, walks back to find out why her two field agents are needing medical supplies. "Hello. Is everyone okay?" She scents the air. "Alric, did someone hurt you?" She searches Alric's face, pale green eyes intent.

I wonder what the rate of green eyes is across magic users. I think I've seen a few of those. I should start counting.

He holds up his hand.

"Magical bookmark stuck to my hand."

She takes his hand, turning it over and inspecting it. She's shorter than Alric, though her halo of hair makes up for the lost inches. Her hair does seem particularly bushy right now, like raised hackles. "Where did you get the mark?" She asks, voice protective.

"Earlier, in Martha's section of the library. I was researching the relationship between materials and meaning, not that I found anything, and one of the books had this as a bookmark in it. I pulled it out, it stuck to my hand. Iron doesn't work, and I'm not too keen yet on trying out fire."

She nods. "It's likely an accident and not a targeted attack then. May I try to remove it?"

"Wait. So you can see it as well? Without casting detect magic or something?"

He doesn't retract his hand. "Also, yes, please try, if you have a better solution."

"Not exactly, but I can sense it. It is here?" She traces it where it folds over his palm to his index knuckle on the back of his hand. It's not the full length and width of it, but approximately the center.

Once he confirms, she bites it. Swift, painless, barely breaking the skin. The wound on his hand heals before blood has a chance to well up.

The gossamer bookmark is gone.

"What the fuck" He snatches his hand away and stares at her, confused.

"That should have done it. Can you confirm that the mark is gone?" She says smoothly, as though this was a standard procedure.

His eyes blink from Phoenix to his hand, back to her. To his hand once again, then back to her. "It's gone. Explain." He continues staring at her.

She folds her hands in front of her, composed and relaxed. Her previous protective intensity diffused into an ambient calm. "I am able to eat some kinds of magic. What I've done did not harm you, just removed that mark from you."

He chuckles. "Alright. Alrightalrightalright."

How does that work? Something with iron? Would I become magic resistant if I added more iron to my diet? Where would I get mice for experiments?

He checks his hand.

"Ouh, well, thank you. Definitely a preferred solution over fire. I'm going to take a nap. If this is the reality I wake up in and you guys are still around, I could use some help figuring out a few things."

He nods to the both of them, then leaves in the direction of the 'library'. It's a quiet, scarcely used room with a couch. He closes the door, lays down, and closes his eyes.

Phoenix turns to her other employee. "And how are you, Inara? I have not seen you in a few days. Are your studies going well?"

"I've been busy, researching the shoggoths. I —" really don't want to go back there " — think someone needs to do something about them before they become a serious problem. Unfortunately I hit a bit of a roadblock. They're not very well documented. I was taking a break talking to Alric, and then I was going to visit Sawyer and ask him if he knew anything."

Phoenix's brow knits in concern. "Shoggoths are outside of my area of expertise, but if you can put a plan together for how best to deal with them, I can aid with any fire power needed." She smiles.

"Thanks. I don't have a plan yet, but once I've got something more concrete than vagaries I'll let you know." I glance at the hallway Alric left through, then back at Phoenix. "Say, how does one learn to eat magic? Seems like a handy skill to have."

"It is more of an outcome of a curse than a learned skill; one of the few silver linings. It is not a tribulation I would recommend lightly." She demures.

"Ah well. Best I stick to wizardry, then. Anyway, I think I'm going to stick around until Alric wakes up — there's something I need to discuss with him. Do you have a space I can practice magic in safely while I wait?"

"What safety measures do you need?" Phoenix asks, and will set her employee up with what she needs to a reasonable extent. There's an empty room Vesper can commandeer. She can even claim an office if she wants. The Dawn Commission occupies the whole floor but only makes use of less than a quarter of it.

While Phoenix gets my 'office' set up, I write a quick note for Alric:

Phoenix set me up with an office. When you wake, come find me there. We have much to discuss. — Vesper

I carefully place the note beside the sleeping Alric, tucking it underneath his arm. With that done, I head straight to my new room.

Time blurs as I lose myself in the thrill of casting, conjuring a block of stone from thin air and meticulously molding it into a miniature stone tree, standing a foot tall. The initial formation is straightforward, but it's the fine details that consume hours — the texture of the bark, the intricate branches, and the delicate leaves. I alternate between meditation and careful sculpting, starting from the crown of the tree and working downwards.

The sculpture is only half-done by the time Alric arrives. Gnarled branches emerge from the bottom half of the cube, their twisting length festooned with lobed oak leaves. Chips of stone litter the ground around me and my fingers ache from channeling magic with painstaking precision.

I finish the leaf I'm working on and straighten up to greet Alric with a warm smile. "Feeling better?"

After waking up and finding the note, he stays on the couch for a little longer, just to think things over.

I still have the crowbar, I still have the selfie with the magical circle, I still have the sacred geometries.

Okay, I guess this is it.

So, what's on my todo list? Shannon. The whole spell gone wrong situation. The whole Seer thing. The demigod - actually, that one feels pretty straightforward. Mhm.. Oh, the massive lack on actual magical theory. Hours in the library and nothing to show for it. And then the bookmark, eh, that's just a thing. Whatever the fuck is up with Vesper or Inara or whatever her name is. Phoenix eating magic, that's a trick I gotta learn.

Shannon: 800 or so rationalists in the magical world, 400 in the US. I mean, it does make sense to have them roughly distributed across the major cities. The name, that one is unlikely, but people do choose fake names, apparently. Maybe two or three names across the 400 that would ring alarm bells? Now that I think about it, this whole situation does feel very unlikely, but not so massively unlikely that it's almost impossible... And what weird scheme would that be. Mhm... It's probably a coincidence, let's book it as that for now. Coincidence, or fate. Is fate a thing? I should find that out.

For the spell, I can show that to mages and find out. I do have both Sawyer's versions and my own copy.

He remembers the note.

Let's start there.

He arrives in Vesper's office.

"Yeah, somewhat. I finally get why they keep warning you to not overdo your research when you first get into this. If you keep running into extremely unlikely things and don't figure those out first, at some point.. you have a ton of impossibilities, each of them a good reason to believe you're mad. They could've put some more effort into explaining their warnings though, rather than just being ominous."

Again, you're the idiot you blame. We had that topic already. Alric thinks to himself.

He keeps talking while inspecting the statue.

"Frankly, I'm tired of questioning everything. I'll just accept that this is the reality I live in, and if I'm mad, so be it."

He pulls out the three versions of sacred geometries for the relief spell, and hands them to Vesper.

"Can you tell me whether any of these have anything built in in the direction of 'works differently for specific people or casters with specific attributes'? Anything that would make it work one way for one caster or group of casters, and another way for others?"

I take the papers and examine them. "Unfortunately not," I tell Alric. "I haven't seen these spells before. Where did you get them? Whoever wrote them down should have left a description of what they do — otherwise, the only way to find out is to cast it and even I'm not quite that reckless."

"Mhm. I know what they do, don't worry. I'll figure it out." He takes them back.

That would've been too easy. Phoenix, maybe?

"Impressive work. How hard is that to learn? And does it only work with stone?" He's pointing to the statue.

"Stone or dirt, though the same spell can be used to manipulate any of the four classical elements. You can't make a sculpture out of fire or water, though, which is why I chose stone to practice the fine control on. The basics are pretty easy to master — only took me a few days — but I don't think it'll work for you." I frown. "Or maybe it will? Want to give it a try? You were able to cast Spectral Sight the other day, even if you did pass out."

"Yeah, no, I definitely won't try that again. Casting spells off of geometries seemed to be more natural, and I'm not even sure about those."

There's gotta be a 'don't boil your brain' way of casting these. It's literally just pushing meaning into reality.

Leaning against the wall next to the door, backpack on the floor to his side, he looks out and around. "What's up with these offices? Massive backroom vibes."

I raise my eyebrows, glancing at the spells in Alric's hand. "You can cast all three of those? Reliably?"

"I managed to cast one of them once, with help. Failed the second time." Let's leave it at that.

After stowing away the diagrams, he puts on his backpack.

"You wanted to talk about something. Let's talk while exploring. I'll shoot Phoenix a message so she knows where to find us." ~~Or where to find my remains if this friendliness is all a ruse.~~ Alric, if push comes to shove, you have a crowbar, and she's 5'0. Your crowbar isn't anti magic, but it's certainly anti mage. Relax.

He gets out his phone, and sends Phoenix a message letting her know where the two of them are, and that he'd like her opinion on some sacred geometries. Later, if she has time.

With that done, he starts making his way out into the vacant offices.

I follow Alric, wondering what to say. Hi, I'm Vesper, an ex-demonologist who got her soul fused to the monster hunter who came to put down what she called up. Yeah, right. Alric would probably report me to the witch hunters — if he didn't think I was crazy.

"We talked a bit before you went off to sleep." I notice that I'm wringing my hands and force myself to stop, dangling them loosely at my sides instead. "How much do you, uh, remember? You seemed pretty out of it."

"Everything, except the things I've forgotten, not that I could tell you what those are. Phoenix bit my hand. Oh and I do remember you being friendly and then telling me that it wasn't a condescension Weird that caused your shift. I had some time to think - is it maybe some weird Wizard racism against Muggles? I come back a capital S Seer, having cast my first spells, and suddenly you don't despise me?"

He keeps popping his head into offices while walking around, soaking in all the vibes.

Yeah, top notch backrooms. Fucking love it. Sooo much emptiness, and potential, and emptiness.

"The whole name thing doesn't make sense though. But that's a recurring thing for me."

"..eeh, I'll figure it out."

"No, it's not you being a Seer." I really want to ask him what that is, but now's not the time. "It's — look, this is going to sound crazy. Please bear with me, okay? Let me explain the whole thing before you decide I'm fucking with you."

I take a deep breath. "My name is Vesper. I share this body with Inara. Our souls were fused together by demonic magic and nobody could figure out how to undo it."

What the hell are you doing? Inara demands. Give me control!

I press onward, fighting to stay in the front. " Shit. I can't keep her out when she's awake. Have to go. Come to the sanctum."

I thrust a piece of paper at Alric moments before Inara's will slams into me and —

— washes over me. I stagger and blink at the sudden brightness, the sudden sharpness, the sheer intensity of reality. Empty offices, beige carpet, fluorescent lights. Where am I?

Alric is here too, that annoying mundane who keeps poking his nose into everything. I didn't catch all of what Vesper told him, but what I did overhear was too much.

Alric fumbles for a second, but then catches the paper.

She only said 'fused by demonic magic', not necessarily 'fused with a demon'. But demonic possession would check out.

While starting to walk in the direction that they came from - no sudden movements, we're all friends here, keep an eye on her - he opens the paper and reads it, then tucks it into his backpack. The backpack is kept closed but unzipped, and stays in his hand.

Written on the paper in neat, curvy handwriting:

If you're reading this, I got interrupted while trying to explain. Or maybe even before I got to say anything. Either way, Inara usually doesn't sleep this long during the day, so I thought it was a good idea to have a backup plan.

Come to the sanctum at night. I can front when she's asleep without her knowing. I'll explain everything then.

You can access the sanctum through the green-painted metal door at the end of the third hallway near the southeast corner of the public library's magical archives.

I don't know how much I got to tell you before Inara took over, but keep it to yourself. Please. Talk to Lucian if you have to — he knows me from before Inara — but don't tell any of the others. Inara will be furious if it gets out.

I blink one final time and focus on Alric as he reads from a piece of paper, one eye on me, one eye on the sheet. A spell? Vesper did promise to teach him magic. It won't do him any good, unless he's somehow managed to acquire the spark of magic in the last few days.

Fat chance of that. Some people are just born inferior.

I want to demand answers, to interrogate him and find out how much Vesper told him about the... situation. Instead, "Where are we?"

Oh no, Alric's inner critic pipes up.

It would be funny though, Alric retorts.

Given demon, it would get you killed you dumbass.

But it would be funny.

Killed.

Chance of 'where are we' given a human? 90%? Chance of 'where are we' given something we have to be scared of? 5%? Maybe? Come on. She would've explicitly mentioned the demon, probably.

His inner critic sighs.

This is a unique opportunity. And we have a crowbar. And we can just book it, we're almost out anyways. And it would be funny.

There are no further objections from his inner critic, just resignation.

"We've glitched, I mean, magicked through the floor while catching up, and ended up in the backrooms. There's nothing here but empty offices, no exit anywhere. We've been wandering this place for, I don't know, hours?" He does in fact sound somewhat stressed.

He closes his backpack and puts it on, getting ready to book it.

"What?" I stare at him for a moment. "I thought Ve — I mean, I — "

I break off and take a deep breath before I can say something that'll clue him in further. Fuck you, Vesper, I say. You were supposed to have a chat with Alric about learning magic, not cast some kind of portal spell to a creepy abandoned office dimension. What the hell did you land us in?

Only silence greets me. She might not even be conscious right now, after how hard I pushed her out of the front.

"Alright," I say. "Let's start with the obvious — how sure are you that there aren't any exits? They might be hidden from mundane eyes, or there could be a trick to making them appear."

He stops walking and turns to Inara.

Killed.

"I can't see magic, but I guarantee you that there are no exits in that direction. Absolutely nothing stands out." He gestures into the direction deeper into the offices. "At some point we just picked a direction and started walking. I swear these rooms are repeating."

He pulls out his phone.

"What about, we split up, and if either of us finds something, we call the other? That's something we haven't tried yet. Pick a direction."

"That's insane — if we split up, we might never find each other again." I hurry to catch up to Alric. "Do phones even work in here?"

On seeing Inara 'probably not but maybe demon' starting to speed up in his direction, he just turns around and fucking books it.

I abandon any pretense at dignity and chase him. If I lose track of him now, he'll probably die in here — to say nothing of the fact that he's the only one who knows what 'here' is.

Chase Alric: [4 💥 1 = 5, 3] Result: Success! 🎯

Can Alric get away from Inara?: [1, 4] Result: Success! 🎯

Alric can't get away from Inara before the hallway bends and the two are back in the populated section of the floor.

"Ahh! What's going on?" A wide-eyed coworker asks as he stumbles over himself to retreat back the way he came.

"Hey, haven't I seen you around before?" I stare at him, then at Alric, then back to the guy. "You work for the Dawn Commission, right?"

Alric definitely doesn't stop, but slows down to a very fast walk, looking to get to Phoenix for some info (and safety), and then finally out and away.

"Uh... yes? You do to, right? Sorry, I'm bad with faces. I'm Luke. Is there something to be running from?" The man glances nervously back down the hallway.

"You should stick with us," I say. "Come on. We'll get you out. Alric! Wait up! We can't just leave him here."

"Ahh... okay?" He starts jogging after Inara. "What's back there? Do we need to call security?"

"There's nothing back there, just more offices." I gesture to Alric. "Alric said we got teleported there through some sort of spell — how did you wind up trapped?"

Luke blinks. Looks at his watch. "Well, I normally don't go home for another two hours. I don't think I'm trapped. I signed up for this job on purpose, and it's at-will employment? And don't really plan on looking for another one for at least a year."

I can't quite tell if he's mocking me or not. "Not the job, the backrooms. How'd you get trapped in the backrooms?"

"I like taking walks on my breaks?" His brow knits in confusion. "I'm sorry, lets take a step back. I'm not currently aware that I am trapped. The backrooms are what we call the unused office space here, but they are perfectly Euclidean as far as I know. If you follow this hallway and take a right, then follow that hallway half way down, you'll find the turnstiles and through that the break room and elevators."

"But Alric said..." I grit my teeth as I realize what happened. "Nevermind. Everything's fine. You should go back to what you were doing."

I stalk past Alric, shooting him a glare, and head for the elevators, still fuming. It's not until I'm three blocks away that I realize I forgot to grill Alric about what happened. Whatever. I can get the details from Vesper once she recovers.

I head for Bright Books. It was the late morning when I left my sanctum and now it's early evening. I lost more time than I meant to. That fucking mundane. What is he even doing on the team? He's a liability, nothing more. At least Hope is a good shot with her guns.

By the time I reach the bookshop, my anger has cooled somewhat, hardening into a dense ball that I shove down into the darkness. Out of sight, out of mind. The bell tinkles as I enter and peer around, searching for Sawyer.

Inara, roll Streetwise for seeing what Wizard gossip you may have heard about him.

Knowledge about Sawyer: [3, 1] Result: Failure ❌

The name “Sawyer Morgan” seems vaguely familiar from before last week. His name or a name like his was part of gossip at a stuffy dinner event ages ago, but the details of what was said have been swept away with time.

The store is quiet at this time of day, a few customers being checked out by a cashier in a lapis-blue apron with an eye motif on the center.

Inara's timing seems to be good, all the same, as Sawyer appears from the backroom within a minute.

Sawyer seems to be looking around for something, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses despite the growing dark outside. His searching stops when he notices Inara.

He arches a brow over his sunglasses and waves.

"Greetings," I say. "I'm planning a second expedition into the shoggoth nest to wipe them out. To that end, I've spent the last few days trying to research them, only to come up empty-handed. I was hoping you might know more about them? Weaknesses, patterns of behavior, typical numbers, that sort of thing."

"Oh, good, I was worried Alric might try going on his own," the man smiles, relaxing and motioning for Inara to follow him into one of the backrooms. "Sure, I can tell you more about the teacups. I'm not surprised you weren't able to find much, they're not something that most people study, and Lovecraftian inspired fiction has made it a major pain to try and dig up sources digitally if you don't know what you're looking for."

"From what you all mentioned the other day it shouldn't be too bad, but you'll need to get into their hive if you're trying to root them out. I'll see if I have something I can copy out for you, but please don't touch any of the books unless you want to run through the pop quiz so I know what sections are safe for you."

I bite back a grin. As if anything this small-time practitioner has just laying around could hurt me. But the amusement fades swiftly as I contemplate the task before me. "When you say hive, are you referring to the abandoned lot?"

If they've taken over the entire structure, there could be hundreds of the nasty little things... I'll definitely need Phoenix and the team's backup for this.

"I'm referring to whatever flesh complex they've been building underneath the lot," he says casually, striding forward to skim his fingers over the leatherbound books on one of the shelves.

"They were trying to take you all alive because living flesh is more malleable, in the sense that they can get it to keep growing and have it produce more of whatever material they're in need of. With a dead body, they can use the existing materials, sure, but they wouldn't be able to get you to grow more eyes or teeth if they needed them. Plus a living body has a Iiving mind, and that's free real estate. Literally."

"Oh." Underground? Meaning it could be — "So, uh, how big is the hive?"

"Depends on the amount of materials they've gathered. My kid didn't notice it, so it shouldn't be too bad." He drums his fingers on the spine of one of the books before pulling it from the shelf.

"... plus the number of disappearances in the area hasn't been noticeably above average for Arkham, so I'm guessing it's going to be on the smaller side. Depends on whether the growth pattern is linear or exponential."

"Well, someone's got to deal with it before it grows any larger. How long until you get me that information?"

"Just like someone should deal with every other problem in Arkham, you're looking into this one because you walked into it, Arkham's rife with old incursion spots, that lot's just an active example," he says dryly, gingerly opening the book in his hand a crack and flipping cautiously through a few pages.

"You said you've spent days trying to dig up information and I've spent five minutes checking my shelves, you can afford to chill a few minutes while I find the right book and copy out what you need. Unless you'd like to go back to trying to find the information yourself instead of letting the guy holding a brain-melting beastiary get you the information you need in a format that isn't potentially m̵͐̆ả̴̕d̸̠͝n̶̰̊e̵̾͋s̴̔̎s̴̛-inducing?"

He looks up. "Are you usually this impatient when asking people to help you?"

"I assure you, I'm more than capable of reading any format without suffering any ill effects. I'm not some mundane fresh to the world of magic — I've been studying wizardry since I could talk." I hold up a finger. "And. It's not impatience to wonder whether one ought to wait around or come back tomorrow."

"What. Like that makes you special? You're not the only one who started early," Sawyer barks out a sharp laugh and flips the book around, holding the pages open in Inara's sightline. "You've been studying wizardry. This isn't your field."

"Here I thought you offering Alric help meant you didn't have the typical Wizard arrogance, but, sure, let's see how you hold up. It'll be good practice for the hive... even if you're not going to know how to read the language."

Do you try to understand the markings on the page?

I laugh in Sawyer's face and take the book. "Sure. Let's see what makes this so special."

Roll Spirit

Read the book: [8 💥 7 = 15, 6 💥 1 = 7] Result: Success with 2 raises! 🎯🎯🎯

The markings unfold on the page like an optical illusion; simultaneously crawling and motionless. The script spirals organically, uncaring for restrictive lines as the rhythm of the words contained ebb and flow.

It's trippy, and leaves a bit of a Tetris Effect when one blinks away. But ultimately it is ink on parchment, written for the purpose of conveying knowledge. R'lyehn doesn't conform to the common structures of human written languages, but only the superstitious and weak willed would be haunted by the magnification and annotation enchantment imbedded into the book. (An enchantment presumably laid to best make use of the valuable parchment.)

The magnification enchantment is kind of nauseating. Probably wasn't calibrated for human eyes.

"Mmm. Yes... this calligraphy is a pretty piece of work." I look up and smirk. "Shame I can't say the same about the magnification and annotation enchantment. It's badly miscalibrated — though only the weak willed or very superstitious would find themselves distraught by such a minor spell." My grin widens as I toss the book back to Sawyer. "Looks like a classical education still counts for something, eh?"

Sawyer tilts his head, staring at Inara for a moment, snapping the book shut. "Interesting. You're more durable than you look. Probably for the best. The last wizard with a purely classical education who tried to read R'lyehn passed out from the text itself, not the charm. It's not your education, it's your strength of will."

He shakes his head, expression slowly flattening out. "Spoken like a humano-centrist. It isn't miscalibrated, it was written for descendants of M̷̧̃ȟ̵̟'̷͔̌i̴̤̍t̴̥̎h̴̰͝r̵͌h̷̘͒a̸͔̿, not for humans. It's an import from a different dimension, written by a species that has been at war with those that currently control the shoggoth for time immemorial, who roam the edges of concept space itself."

He tilts his head. "But I'm sure whatever they have to say isn't useful for you. After all, there's only a handful of Wizard texts on the shelves, everything else is garbage written by people who don't have the same education or perspective than you, so clearly none of it could ever be useful at all. You should just stop wasting your time and leave now. I can just give Alric the information, and he can decide if your charming personality is worth whatever skills you bring to the table."

He shakes his head, mouth twisting. "You know, normally I wouldn't have bothered letting a wizard waste my time, because I've only met a handful of you that aren't assholes, and, you know, when you were in here before, I thought maybe you were going to turn out to be one of the decent ones. What a fucking disappointment."

Condescending asshole. Holding his knowledge over me when I'm asking for help protecting the public. My fingers twitch and I can't help but fantasize about setting the sneering bastard on fire. He would beg to tell me what he knows... but no. Can't do that. Alina would freak out if I attacked someone in a public shop. Even if he is a nobody.

"Not everyone has time to sift through a mountain of garbage for a few diamonds in the rough. Some of us are too busy protecting the world from monsters." My voice is a whip, each word a lash. "Don't bother telling Alric. I don't need your help, and I certainly don't need his. I'll deal with the shoggoths myself. And when I'm done, everyone will know who really cares about the mundanes' safety."

Fuck Sawyer. I shouldn't have wasted my time here. Asking the giftless for help is like expecting a novice to cast a third-order spell on her first day. Arcanum will have everything I need and, if it doesn't, well, having perfect information is a luxury, not a necessity.

I turn on my heel and stride for the door, slamming it open.

"He asked about them the day after you all dealt with the weird, but I wasn't going to send him off to try and tackle them with no sleep and no backup," he laughs, calling after her. "I wouldn't send you in alone, either, because that's how people die. Have fun trying to prove you care about people while looking down on them in the same breath!"

There's a startled squeak as Inara shoves the door open and the sound of someone tumbling to the floor, leaving a dark-haired young woman in a black dress and a delicate cardigan with embroidered songbirds on the floor, eyes wide and startled as she tries to get to her feet and pick up her books fast enough to get out of Inara's way.

"Sorry! Sorry! I didn't know anyone was going to come out!"

"It's fine," I say, curt, as I step around her.

"R-right," she says, skirting around like a skittish mouse, face pink, glancing down at Inara's robes before quickly looking back up, appearing, if anything, even more flustered than before. She clutches her notebook tight as she skitters into the backroom, but a few folded paper figures manage to wriggle free in her haste, drifting to the floor or following behind her like they're on a tether. "Uhm. Hey, Dad, I need some help with my calculus homework? Ellie was trying to explain it to me but she started talking in deep geometries again, and I still can't keep up with her-"

There's another escaped paper further down the hall that she didn't managed to grab in her haste, which folds itself into the shape of a bird and makes a break for the outside.

Stupid girl. I almost let the paper flit away, but it would be amusing to bring it back right after Sawyer accused me of 'not caring'.

Air manipulation to bring the paper to me: [10 💥 4 = 14, 5] Result: Success with 2 raises! 🎯🎯🎯

The paper neatly unfolds as it comes into Inara's hands - a letter, successfully delivered!

Hey, Scratch, thank you for telling me ~~the thing~~ about the Unseelie. I hope that everything goes well! ~~I was wondering~~ ~~is it okay if~~ Would you be willing to introduce me to ~~Simon's new~~ The Guardian? ~~I don't know if they'd~~ I want to ask ~~if they'd be willing to~~ them some questions about their cardinal aspects. ~~I'd owe you~~ It would be cool! Thank you -> is this too much? Maybe just Regards???? Fix in final letter!! Morgana

I fold it back up and re-enter the shop. No need for the girl to know I read it. "Hey," I say, interrupting her conversation with 'dad'. "You dropped this."

I offer her the half-written letter.

The girl goes bright pink again. "Oh no, I-"

She takes it, peeking at the contents, and wilts. "Thank you, it ... it wasn't supposed to do that. It isn't even a finished - I shouldn't have signed it. I just don't know why they keep doing this when I don't tell them to-"

Sawyer's back to a cooled-off baseline, but he's very carefully not looking at Inara. "It's because you can't figure out what you want it to do, Mori. You're crossing your wires and the signals are getting mixed up."

"It's not like the tablet is better," she looks downtrodden at that, then looks at the letter in her hand, then back up to Inara. "I. Uhm. Thank you. Again. Really. I. I owe you one. I'm... really glad you made sure it didn't get very far!"

Sawyer's head turns so he can stare at his daughter, now looking very concerned.

"I'm glad I could help," I say, not quite looking at Sawyer as my grin widens. It's so tedious, keeping up the act all the time, but moments like this make it all worth it. "Practice your magic more carefully in the future, mhm? Repetition is the essence of magic, after all. It wouldn't do to ingrain bad habits."

"I'm trying, but they keep trying to wiggle loose. I... think it's because I keep making bird shapes instead of people shapes, but..." she looks at her feet, scuffing the toe of one on the floor, then back up, eyes gone black as pitch and watering at the corners. "...I... I really don't want to control people-shaped things."

"Accuracy should guide your hand, not your personal whims," I say. "Learn what the shapes are supposed to be, then use those. And if it still doesn't work, find a better spell."

"But... there isn't a spell, not the way you mean, I think, I - that's the whole problem. If it was a spell spell, the shape wouldn't be - I mean. The shape would still matter, but it wouldn't matter as much?"

She bites her lip, gesturing uncertainly in the air like she's drawing as she talks, growing a little more in confidence but still nervous. "I mean. Like. The shape is important because not caring if something is shaped like a person is the first step to not caring if something is a person, and I don't want to stop thinking about people like people. Even if people shapes are easier?"

Her eyes scrunch up for a moment. "I keep getting all tangled up because I keep worrying that if I just do what comes easy then I'll stop trying to do anything that isn't easy. I've tried to diagram it out like Dad does for his spells, but it's hard to be accurate because half of the equation is just ... putting my Name in and using it to leverage things, you know? And. And it's just so messy, but Dad says I should keep trying, even if it's hard, because it's part of who I am, but that doesn't actually make it easier. I like spells better, even the ones I can't use. Especially the ones with deep grooves that you can follow without getting lost."

Sawyer presses his face into his hands, then looks up, staring at Inara. "The documents you and Alric need will be done tomorrow morning. You shouldn't go alone because even teacups are big trouble if they have backup and you don't, they take down bigger prey by teaming up, and you were looking like you were going to burn out when you came in with your team," he says, voice tired.

"Morgana, you said you wanted help with your homework, right? I can't figure out where you're getting stuck if you don't at least show me the homework."

"It's your actions that matter, not your thoughts." If we were alone, I'd tell her that it doesn't matter how she thinks of people. But Sawyer is here, and it's not the sort of thing I'd say. Instead, "You should stick to spells. They're much easier, and there's already a spell for anything you can imagine. And even if it's harder to master the precise gestures and incantations needed, the very time spent practicing hones your mind and gives you the self-discipline needed to cast properly."

Assuming she even has the Gift, and isn't just another hedge mage through and through. There's no overcoming one's birth.

Sawyer interrupts to warn me about the shoggoths.

"My mana reserves are fine. I was fatigued from searching the campus for the qualia weird earlier, that's all." I hesitate. Now that the heat of the moment is past, attacking the shoggoth hive single-handedly seems a lot more foolish. "Still, it would go faster if the rest of the team was there. I'll wait until tomorrow before doing anything."

"Maybe... If it really helps focus your mind and intentions, maybe it can help." Morgana looks thoughtful, then smiles up at Inara with eyes that once again have sclera. "I'll try working on that again. Uhm. After I finish my calculus homework, anyway."

Sawyer looks like he has more to say, but between the presence of his daughter and his own anger cooling off, he holds off. "Good. Send one of your team members or come by when the shop is open for the mostly complete translation. I don't think any of you want the cooking recipes."

I return Morgana's smile, then look to Sawyer. "Sure. See you then."

With that, I leave the bookshop again, this time at a far more sedate pace. I wander aimlessly for a bit, then head back to the sanctum. I grab a sandwich from a cafe on the way and sit on a bench to eat it. I've barely taken a single bite when my phone buzzes. Annoyed, I fish it out of my pocket and squint at the screen. Alric. Great. Just what I need.

"What do you want?" I demand.

Definitely Inara. Alright. You can do this. "Inara!" He sounds friendly. "I've come to the conclusion that you're not a demon! I pitched to Phoenix the idea of clearing out the shoggoth lot, and apparently you did the same, and now we're supposed to work on that together." Yay. "Let's have a chat! Do you have a favorite park or cafe we could meet at?" Or any other public place with lots of witnesses around?

What. "Why would you think I'm a demon?"

"I- uh.. Vesper mentioned something about demon magic fusing you together, and her not being able to 'keep you out', and frankly, seemingly all of humanity being beneath you and your general affinity for violence also kind of fit the bill?" He's 80% matter of fact, and 20% friendly. It's a somewhat well practiced tone of voice. "It was reasonable to at least consider it."

He continues. "So, where do you want to meet?"

I put my head in my hands and sigh. Alric knows just enough to wind up staggeringly wrong about everything. If only Vesper hadn't told him anything... I really need to keep a tighter leash on her.

"Demons destroy the very essence of reality," I say. "They are metaphysical cancer — if I was secretly a demon, you would know. It's not the sort of thing that can stay hidden."

Unfortunately, it looks like my actual secret can't stay hidden either. I briefly fantasize about luring Alric here and then putting a Sunfire Lace through his head — the flash of the spell, the crackle of burning flesh, the thud of his body hitting grass. But as temptingly easy as it sounds, the ensuing investigation would only draw more attention.

Besides, it's not the sort of thing I would do.

"Did you tell anyone else about your woefully inaccurate suspicions?" I carefully keep my voice friendly, mirroring Alric's tone. "Phoenix? The others on the team?"

She's already making plans on where to dump my body. Man, I really wanted to do without. Alric sighs. "No, I haven't told anyone. I thought it fair to have you be the one to explain your situation to me, rather than someone else."

He's probably telling the truth. Anyone dumb enough to think I might be a demon is probably dumb enough to think it's not worth getting anyone else involved. "Great. I'm at a park, eating a sandwich. I'll send you the location."

"Looks like you are quite a bit out of town. How about this: I wrap things up here, and I'll shoot you a location somewhere in town. Meet me there in an hour?"

Ugh. All I really want is to finish my meal, go home, and curl up in bed. Instead, I have to deal with Vesper's mess. "Sure, sounds good."

"Alright, see you there." Click.

Great.

Step 1: He writes up a PDF document about the whole situation, explaining what he knows about Vesper / Inara, and embedding a photo of Vesper's letter. He encrypts the whole thing, and attaches a .txt explaining that the encryption key can be collected at 'the book store', using the password "British Bongos". PDF and .txt are put onto a USB drive.

Step 2: He shoots Sawyer a message, explaining that he might get contacted about the attached encryption key, and that he should, in that case, only give it out if the person requesting the key also gives the password "British Bongos". Unless Alric brings up the topic, this never happened. No, nothing to be concerned about. Alric is a paragon of paranoia and acting accordingly. It'll make for a fun story down the line. He deletes the message from his phone.

Step 3: He sends Inara the location: The marketplace where they once fought the vampire.

Step 4: He calls Phoenix, and after confirming that she's around, scoots over to the HQ, dropping off the USB stick at Phoenix's office. He explains that he has some negotiating to do and needs some insurance for the most unlikely worst case scenarios he can come up with. She is free to look only if Alric dies or is mind wiped. Under any other circumstances, this never happened. Phoenix is concerned, but agrees to Alric’s terms. She asks if he wants her to destroy the USB drive after a set timeframe of Alric appearing to be okay. She also asks if this is related to vampires in any way. No, please keep the stick around and safe until he gets back to it. No, it's not about vampires, but he also can't answer any more questions as that leaks information. And no, it's nothing to be concerned about. Alric is a paragon of paranoia and acting accordingly. It'll make for a fun story down the line.

Step 5: Call Hope. See if she wants to be around as backup somewhere far away (it's a private matter) but also close enough by in case Alric does run into a monster. No, nothing to be concerned about. Alric is a paragon of paranoia and acting accordingly. It'll make for a fun story down the line.

Step 6: Get to the marketplace, a bit early. Just to see where things are and what could be used in case a sociopathic mage decides that this an acceptable place for murder.

First surveil of the scene: [1, 3] Result: Failure ❌

benny

He notices his mind is glancing over things. He breathes, focuses, and unsees. This is important.: [2, 3] Result: Failure ❌

Too stressed. He gives up and looks for a spot around enough people, and sits down.

Sawyer sends him back a text, quick and simple.

Alright. Good luck.

I finish my sandwich and leave the park. Alric's location is at a nondescript marketplace near the library, and it takes me the better part of the hour to arrive. Maybe that's intentional.

The setting sun's rays drench the marketplace in rich red and orange light. People sit scattered around on benches and tables, eating food bought from the carts near the market's edges. Alric is among them, seated on a wooden bench with his back to a family of four.

I settle onto the bench and do my best to ignore the prattling of the group behind us. "So. You said you had information about the shoggoths?"

"I don't. I have a few good ideas on how to approach the situation, and at the same time, clear out my debt with Sawyer and make a profit for the Commission. Help with the plan would keep property damage down and chances of success high. Apparently you also wanted to deal with the shoggoths, so Phoenix told me to work with you." He's now just matter of fact, neither hostile or friendly.

"Clearing out the shoggoths is a natural next step." I shift subtly as I talk, partially mirroring Alric's posture and tone to put him at ease. "They have built a hive underneath the lot out of flesh, and are growing at an exponential rate. I'll have more information tomorrow morning, after which I intended to bring this up with the rest of the team."

Does he consciously notice her mirroring?: [7, 4] Result: Success! 🎯

M-hm.

"Inara, I have the impression that you would appreciate directness. Is that right?"

"I do enjoy these games we play with each other," I say. "They can be delightfully entertaining. But if you have something to say, by all means, go ahead and say it."

"How can I work with you while also having to worry about you harming me?"

I study Alric for a moment, trying to see past the mask, to get a glimpse of the mind beneath. Is he like me? Playing a role and keenly aware of it? Was I wrong to write him off so quickly?

Maybe.

A chuckle slips from my throat. This is fun. "Tell me, Alric, why do you work for the Dawn Commission?"

There is no mask. He is genuinely concerned for his well-being.

"It was the first door into the magical world opened enough for me to get a foot in."

Disappointing. "Well, to answer your question... does killing you seem like the sort of thing a heroic monster hunter would do? I protect people. That's why I want to deal with the shoggoths now, before who knows how many innocents end up as raw materials for their hive." I offer him my best genuine smile. "You have nothing to fear from me."

She's not getting it. She's not getting the fact that this is serious.

"Two hours ago I was considering it somewhat likely that you're a demon. About twenty seconds ago you told me that all of this is just a game for you. Nothing about you except maybe your violent tendencies speak for you as a 'heroic monster hunter', including the fact that you just called yourself a 'heroic monster hunter'."

He stares up to the sky, and keeps talking.

"You've implied that you'd burn me without hesitation should it be more convenient than working around me. You've given me nothing but condescension since we first met. I am nothing but despicable vermin to you, not even worth the trouble of disposing. And I now stumbled into a secret of yours that you don't want anyone to know, and now you smile at me and tell me not to worry?"

He shakes his head, and looks at her.

"How can I be sure that I won't be harmed by you?"

I bite back a laugh at Alric's naivety. If only murder could solve all my problems — if only it was so simple as he makes it sound.

I smile compassionately at him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, meeting his gaze to convey sincerity. "If you're troubled by such bloody fantasies, perhaps you should see a psychologist. As for the rest of us, we live in a gloriously civilized age, one where such grisly means of dealing with our problems is no longer accepted."

A pause, as I think about how best to reassure him. I can't just tell him that it doesn't make sense to kill him because it would draw undue attention. People don't think like that. He'd probably freak out.

"Look, Alric, if I'm being honest with you —" as if saying that changes anything "— I am a bit worried about you knowing about Vesper. It's not something I talk about a lot. But it's also not that much of a secret. You're not the only person to know. My family, the Wizard's Council — plenty of people know about it." I tighten my grip on his shoulder, just a little. "But they know how to be discrete. Do you?"

He pushes her hand away, jumps up, then turns to her. "I've put a lot of energy into working in the off-chance that you're someone worth helping, worth cooperating with. I-" He's at a loss of words for a second. "How can you be so fucking dense? Stop the threats and manipulations for one fucking second and think. This is me trying to help you," he lowers his voice after he notices a few heads turn, but the intensity remains, "because my next step if this doesn't work out -"

He presses his palms on his eyeballs.

"I've fucked up. I actually thought you were someone I could reason with, not a fucking sociopath. I could've saved myself so much trouble."

He pulls out his phone. With two presses, he starts a voice recording. With four more, he's dialing Hope. He holds his phone to his ear as it rings.

"Hey." I jump to my feet and hold my hands up, palms facing outwards. "There's no need to be rash. Take a moment and think about what you're doing. Let's talk about this."

Hope picks up almost immediately. "Please get line of sight on me, things are getting worse." Alric stares at Inara. "She might fireball me or something."

Seeing her jump up, he starts backtracking.

"Keep your fucking distance." His phone hand gestures at her and at the bench. "I've tried talking. I'm sick of you. I'm sick of hearing your bullshit."

Please. I wouldn't use Fireball in such a crowded space, even if I knew the spell. "Then let me appeal to self-interest. We're in a public space and House Sellain has a reputation to uphold. Tossing around lethal magic in the market square isn't a good look." I pause. "You've made a lot of accusations tonight, but talked precious little about what it is you want. A good blackmail attempt includes both."

"Fuck." Fucking psycho. 'Blackmail attempt', as if this couldn't have been resolved over a nice cup of tea and a 'yeah, this is what happened, please don't tell anyone.' "Sure, here's what I want: Stay away from me. I have a dead man's switch set up - if I die, people will learn everything. If I get mind wiped, same thing. Hurt me, mess with me, and people will know it was you, and why. Don't talk to me unless absolutely necessary, keep your stupid fucking remarks to yourself. I'm done entertaining your bullshit. That's what I want."

I can't help but grin at Alric's vehemence. Some of my darkest secrets are on the line and it's invigorating. "A dead man's switch, eh? Very clever. However, I feel compelled to point out that, as monster hunters, we live dangerous lives — that's not a threat, merely a statement of fact. I don't suppose your contingency plans take that into account? I'd rather avoid all my dirty laundry being aired just because you pissed off a shifter gang when I wasn't around to pull you out of the fire.

"Besides, we're on the same team, Alric. I can hardly avoid you all the time when it's part of our job to work together. Wouldn't you rather be friends? I know I'd rather be friends with the people with the power to ruin my life — or at least make it quite difficult — and I think you'd find that I could be a powerful ally. You know how the saying goes — a friend isn't someone you use once and throw away; they're someone you use again and again."

"I- Wha? That's the acrobatics you have to go through to end up with cooperat-"

Wait. Right now, she's not friendly. She's not threatening me. Is she being honest here? I think this is her being honest.

And the penny dropped.

This is actually how she thinks. This is it. She's not a psycho, she's not irrational, she's not even a human being. She's just a utility optimizer. Clippy. Not optimizing for paper clips, but for, for.. 'power to ruin my life' - none of this is even remotely warranting that expression. Noone would kill or imprison her for being in that situation. Her wizard friends didn't. Reputation? Why would anyone think less of her for that? ~~It makes no sense.~~

As does making paper clips, but Clippy doesn't care, his inner critic pipes up, and reputation checks out with the whole 'heroic monster hunter' thing.

~~Maybe I should just turn it off.~~

Pump the fucking brakes. There's a person stuck inside. Figure this out.

At this point he's still staring at Inara, but not scared or angry anymore: He's looking at her with curiosity, as if she's a complex construct, a machine, built from a complex array of cogs and pistons. A machine that can be poked and prodded, ~~disassembled~~, tested with different inputs.

He puts the phone to his ear.

"I think we're good. Please stick around, but I think we're good." He hangs up the call and lowers his hand.

"Was Vesper your co-worker before this happened?" She doesn't seem like you.

Alric has a strange look on his face as he studies me, as if he's an Arcanum lecturer calmly analyzing a complex spell.

It's kind of hot.

"Fishing for more blackmail material?" I laugh under my breath. "Well, it's not like it makes much difference now if you know the whole story.

"A few years back, just after I graduated from Arcanum, I was part of a different team — the Arcane Vanguard. We specialized in slaying monsters. A few months after we formed, we encountered a lesser breach at an abandoned warehouse.

The words come easier as I settle into the flow of the story. "Some fool called up a greater demon without the proper safeguards. Not that summoning demons is ever a good idea. They are acid eating through the very essence of our world and leaving only horror in their wake. When you deal with demons, you always draw the short straw.

"We followed the screams and corpses, tracking the demon to a nearby residential area. During the confrontation, I got hit with a curse that annihilated my body and fused my soul with that of a bystander — Vesper. I blacked out and woke up in the hospital, the Council's best healers arguing heatedly over my body.

"Nobody could reverse the demon's curse. They struggled to even comprehend it. Fortunately, my education had left me well prepared to assert control over this body, giving me a second chance at life. My family discreetly buried the incident and I continued on, upholding the Sellain legacy as I always have.

It's surprisingly enjoyable to talk about this, to tell someone exactly what happened without deflecting and evading. I shrug and spread my hands. "So there you have it, my tragic tale of woe. Will you keep it to yourself?"

Fascinating.

"Your incompetence got you killed, and you sacrificed an innocent bystander to make up for it." He's watching, waiting for the output.

"Were you even listening? I didn't cast the curse; the demon did — you should be blaming it for what happened, not me. And Vesper's still alive, I didn't sacrifice her. I saved a lot of lives by stopping the demon that day, you know. I'd like to see you do better."

Technically, mostly fair points. Technically.

"I understand. You didn't cast the curse, but you got yourself hit by it. And yes, Vesper is technically alive. Except how much does she actually get to live? Today was the first time I talked to her. Am I wrong with the assumption that you run the body about 90% of the time? More? It should be zero. You're a guest turned squatter. You about 90% sacrificed her."

He pushes past her and grabs his backpack off the bench.

"I will keep your shame to myself, as you will keep your condescension to yourself. To condescend you have to be above someone."

He puts his backpack on, then turns to her.

"Do you already have info on the shoggoths? I'll definitely do my own research, but I won't complain about avoiding redundant work."

This is going to be good.

Wretched mundane. I am better than him — and Vesper too, for that matter. "You can't 90% sacrifice something; either it's fully sacrificed or it's not. Vesper should just be grateful she's alive at all. Most of the demon's victims aren't. But, fine, I accept your deal — will you disable the dead man's switch now?

"As for the shoggoths, Sawyer is preparing a report. Don't waste your time researching them. I plan on sleeping soundly tonight. Tomorrow promises to be a long day."

"Why would you think I'd disable the switch? The moment I do that, you're going to dispose of me. No, the switch sticks around, and as long as you comply, I won't prematurely trigger it. That's how this works."

Not waiting for an answer, he starts walking away. With his phone still in hand, he calls Hope. "We're done. Thank you for your help. This never happened, and I owe you one." I seem to owe a lot of people now. What a fucking week. And it's only Friday.

He shoots Sawyer a message. "Hey, do you have anything on shoggoths?"

I let my smile slip from my face as Alric walks away, silhouetted by the setting sun. I didn't really think he'd disable the switch, but it was worth a shot. I'll have to figure out what he's got set up and take care of it myself — having that sword hanging over my head is unacceptable, especially since I doubt Alric's long for this world. Maybe I can disable it without him realizing. That way I won't have to kill him and draw attention to myself...

What a day.

I head back to the sanctum, still thinking about the problem. What kind of contingency would Alric use? He doesn't know many people in the nightwalker community. Maybe something technological, an email set up to send out to Phoenix or Sawyer. Or something low-tech, a package at a post office? Or maybe it's not a delayed message — maybe he gave everyone a piece of the puzzle and told them that they should talk to each other if anything happens to him. There's so many possibilities.

The sanctum's everburning torches flare alight as I step through the portal door. I potter around, straightening up the mess of books from earlier's research project, then hit my bed. Before I fall asleep, I poke Vesper. Only silence greets my inquiry. If she's there, she's not speaking to me.

Suits me perfectly.

Continued in BROKEN LINK

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