Chapter Six - Sparring Stupidity

My goal in the Flaming Steppes was to retrieve one of my fonts. It was near the area of the Hungering Inferno sect, at least from the bit of triangulation I did, that’s where I figured it was.

To get it, I would need about half an hour’s time to prepare a properly accurate set or runes to teleport over. Then I could retrieve it and perhaps negotiate with whomever had it. It would all be done in an hour, perhaps a little less if I hurried.

But I didn’t do that.

The reasoning wasn’t all that simple. Few things were. Essentially, as things stood, I had no reason to rush, and I had a few reasons not to.

Looking up from the manual I was leisurely perusing, I looked at the two others in the carriage with me. The limpet was leaning over the book I’d leant her, pointing to some of the worlds within. “See, this mark here? That makes the ‘a’ sound. And this one makes the ‘t’ sound. So by changing the first letter, you can change the word. This one goes ‘c,’ and this one goes ‘hhh.’”

The mantis girl bent over double to see the page with all five of her eyes. “These are just scribbles.”

“Well, yes, but they correspond to sounds.”

“That’s stupid. Who decided which scribble made which noise?”

“Well, uh, it’s evolved a lot over time, so they might not make the same sound now as they once did,” the limpet explained.

“What?” the mantis girl drew back. “The scribbles change on their own?”

“No no, we just write them a little differently now. And we got rid of some letters and replaced them with others.”

“So you changed what the scribbles do as noises? How am I supposed to trust this if you can just change the scribble noises?”

The limpet looked like she was having a hard time with that one. “Linguistic drift is pretty slow,” she said. “You can still read very old texts. It’s just sometimes you need to know which letter meant what some time ago.”

“So there’s more than just the ones you showed me,” the mantis girl said. “You lied!”

“No! Well, technically there are more, but you don’t need to know those unless you’re going to study old texts. Look, do you want to study iconographs instead? Those... are easier to understand, I guess.”

“Where’s more kinds of scribbles?” The mantis asked. “Why?”

I stifled a chuckle at the limpet’s expression and returned to my reading. The book was on the history of the Flaming Steppes, more propaganda and exaggerations than anything else, but nonetheless interesting.

It had me thinking.

What would happen once I left once more?

The current state of the world was, as far as I was concerned, entirely un-optimal.The problem was that it had come about after literal centuries of small, incremental changes. The rise of the current Emperor, the new pantheon, and a few other factors had contributed to the current society’s existence.

How would I fix that?

The obvious response was to bring the system back, but I suspected that that wouldn’t change the current culture, not entirely. Things as they were advantaged those at the top too much for them to merely settle back and allow large, sweeping changes.

That meant that to optimize the world, there had to be some changes on a massive scale, societal changes.

I looked at the limpet, huffing as the mantis girl next to her failed to understand anything.

There was some potential there.

What if instead of tearing everything down, I introduced an entirely new factor. Something that could play the game in such a way that they could force changes to come about?

It would be slower, but it might also be quite a bit more solid. And those who brought those improvements could in turn train the next generation to do the same.

The scientific method required small, incremental leaps in knowledge over decades in order to work. Failed experiment after failed experiment to prove what didn’t work, until eventually a concept was understood in its entirely.

What would that look like as a form of governance? As a culture?

I was curious, and I just happened to have all the tools I needed to test that right here. The mantis was interesting, certainly, and she might come in handy if she could be trained. But the real crux was the limpet.

How would the world act when a scientifically-minded Empress took hold of it? One that knew enough magic to spread that knowledge around, and who was trained in the logical arts?

The prospects were exciting.

Then again, as I watched the limpet sputter her way through an explanation of how letters worked, I realized that it might take some time before we reached that point. This trip would maybe buy that time. A few months spent travelling and learning, perhaps with a little bit of excitement along the way....

The carriage rumbled to a stop.

I closed my book and looked to the door a moment before it opened and Alex poked his head in. “Papa, there’s a dead man in the middle of the road,” he said. Someone screamed. “A nearly dead man.”

“Interesting,” I said. “Perhaps the more mortal among us can stretch their legs while I take a look? Or is the person not interesting enough for that?”

“Yes,” the mantis agreed. “Enough reading. It’s time to eat the dog.” She stabbed down towards the limpet’s dog, who had gotten up when the carriage stopped, but Alex picked it up before her blow could land.

“Please don’t eat the dog. It is emergency supplies.”

“Hey!” the limpet said. “Fang isn’t food!”

“Of course not,” Alex said. “The skin could be tanned and used to make a pillowcase. And the bones have their uses too.”

The limpet jumped out of the carriage with a huff and grabbed her rather confused dog from Alex’s arms. The mantis followed her out, hissing and spitting and generally quite angry about missing out on a meal.

I took my time exiting. The day was bright and cheery, the skies a vibrant blue and the mana strong and fresh.

The earth around us was parched and cracked, warm from the thrumming magic just beneath the surface. Here and there, across the arid lands, geysers of steam spat out into the air next to scraggly bushes.

The road was little more than a path of stamped earth where the cracked ground was less common. Occasionally there were wooden planks along it where it dipped, presumably to make passage possible when it rained and turned everything to mud.

The lack of any sort of infrastructure waid much about how little the locals cared.

In the middle of the road was a younger man. Bent over double around a harsh wound across his torso. He was screaming.

Our driver seemed a little spooked, and the limpet seemed concerned, but the others in my party didn’t seem to mind. “Alex, could you watch over our things?” I asked.

“Of course,” he said.

Nodding, I stepped up and began walking over to the young man.

He rolled over as I came closer, still screaming and hollering. “You can stop that,” I said as I stopped above him.

He placed both hands over his wound, then arched his back up and screamed even louder.

“Really?” I asked. “You’re just going to scream more?”

He screamed more.

I sighed and knelt down to be at his level. “I’m Harold,” I said. “Pleased to meet you and all that. You're in the way of our carriage, and your noises are somewhat irritating. Could you perhaps stop screaming and tell me what’s going on?”

The man stopped and pressed a hand over his chest as he panted. “I’m... I’m from the Flame’s Heart sect,” he said. “An acolyte. We... we were ambushed. I ran. You must deliver this to the Lava Fist sect, please.”

So saying, the man pulled a rather blood-stained envelope out from the folds of his gown and dropped it by my feet.

“Please. I beg you with my dying breath. Deliver... this... please...”

He slumped to the side, breathing going still.

I stood up. “Limpet! I found someone to practice your necromancy on,” I called back.

The man’s eyes shot open. “What?” he asked.

The limpet skipped over and, ignoring the man’s repeatedly desperate questions as a good apprentice ought to, looked at me. “Yes, Master?” she asked.

“This man is dying. I think it’s a wonderful opportunity to practice some spellwork.”

“None of my spells would help,” the limpet said. “Unless I use prestidigitation to burn his wounds shut?”

“You’re going to what?” the man shouted.

I shook my head. “No, I think it’s time to learn a new spell. This is merely a cantrip. Call it a test to see if you can learn something in a relatively short amount of time. You have until this man bleeds out to learn the spell.” I glanced over to the man, then frowned. “You have maybe half an hour.”

“I’ll do my best, Master!” the limpet said. “What’s the spell?”

“It’s called Spare the Dying. It’s a necromantic spell of the zeroth tier.” I searched through a pocket and came out with a pamphlet. It was quite old, at one time given to clerics to teach them the rather simple spell. “This has the instructions on it, but I’ll be here if you need assistance.”

“Brilliant!” the limpet said. She took the pamphlet and read it off to the side.

“Hey! Hey old man, you’re not serious, right?” the man asked.

I stared him down. “Please shut up. The limpet is focusing.”

“She looks fifteen!” the man yelled.

“Hey! I’m an adult,” the limpet defended herself. “In most regions of the Empire I’m considered a mature adult.”

“Most?” I asked.

She reddened and looked away. “Most,” she agreed. “I think I’m ready to try this.”

“What?” the man said. “It’s only been like, a minute.”

“If I mess up, I’m sure Master won’t be too angry. And we can always find other dying people.”

“D-do you have any idea who I am?” the man asked. “I know people! I’m a valued acolyte of the Flame’s Heart sect!”

“They kicked me out because they said my heart was too girlish to join,” the limpet said. She arranged her robes before kneeling down next to the man. “Now, don’t squirm, this spell looks a little bit tricky.”

“You might want to hurry,” I said. “He had been bleeding a little faster than I predicted. I didn’t factor in all of his raving and wild motions. Take this lesson to heart: many-a-plan can be foiled by the stupidity of your adversary and-or test subject.”

The limpet placed her hand on the man, only for him to push it off. She tired again, but he slapped her hand away. She glared and jabbed him in the wound over his chest with two fingers, then placed her open palm onto his chest as he howled.

“When the reapers come buying

And the departed are still crying

To save from death

And keep the last breath

Demand of the soul: Spare dying!”

The finished the last somatic gesture in time with the final word, and the magic in the air around her formed the spell.

It was a little misshapen on the edges, and I could tell that it was done with little practice, but it was entirely functional. “Well done,” I said.

The man slumped back, breath leaving him in a sigh.

“Uh... is he dead?” the limpet asked. “Did I mess up?”

“No, merely in a vegetative state. He’ll be fine as long as we get him to a healer within the day.”

“Can’t we heal him?” the limpet asked.

“I’m afraid you’re not ready for that kind of magic, and I won’t waste my efforts on loud idiots. Speaking of which.” I turned. “Alex, could you and.... The mantis drag this one atop the carriage?”

Alex bowed and was soon coming over, with a tarp to wrap the body in.

I scooped up the scroll the man had tried to give me, and hummed as I turned it this way and that. There was, perhaps, some potential here.

***