Keya prodded the ruby red glass-like block with her spoon: it wobbled. She sat in the living room on the sofa in front of the big glass screen. Master was attempting to show her something on it, but none of that mattered. Because watching glass wobble was by far the most extraordinary sight in the room. She flicked it with her spoon again, and it responded in kind. Then she carved a piece out of it with the same implement and imbibed it. A cornucopia of luscious forest berry flavours melted in her mouth, and she closed her eyes to savour it. The texture was similar to layers that formed on thickened meat broths, but the sugared taste and colour enchanted the senses.

Only the wealthy could regularly afford sugar, but this was much more than a tiny cloying sweet brought at premium from a vendor. How spoiled am I now then? How rich? If she left right now with on the clothes on her back—and provided I am not robbed—how long could she live off the profits from their sale? And leave here! Keya you are getting dumber, not smarter with these facile musings. She banished the thought. Conversing with herself was also the surest sign of lunacy; she admonished that too. Leave the madness to Master; I am tasked to present a sane front.

The room had gotten quiet. Keya opened her eyes to find Master knowingly watch her enjoy the treat.

Keya felt embarrassed all of a sudden. “I am truly sorry Master. I—”

“Try the drink as well,” he smiled.

She peered past the ‘jelly’ to the long glass holding a bubbling dark brown beverage on the low table.

“It’s after dinner so the insulin spike won’t be so harsh.” The evening’s feast still sat heavy in her belly, heartily sated, until she took the sweet first bite.

Covetously she held the magical treat in one hand and reached for the drink with the other. The glass, cold and dew-covered, found her lips and an effervescent nectar delight burst across her tongue. The flavour compared to nothing she knew. No fruit, vegetable, meat, or spirit tasted so, bubbling more vigorously than brewed beer and sweet as honey with a bitter aftertaste. An uncontrollable smile pulled at her lips when she swallowed. “Cola,” she mouthed the name. “I could eat and drink this every day!”

“Yeah, you could. Some people do, but what sustains the senses doesn’t always sustain the body. More people die from overeating than starvation in the greater universe. As your freedom and wealth increases, so too must your discernment. Don’t worry; I’ve been keeping an eye on your diet. The art of health is a complex one, but a little indulgence here and there is harmless.”

“Please do not misunderstand Master. Everything I have experienced over the past few weeks has been remarkable. I can say with no hesitation: It has been the best time of my measly life.” She looked down guiltily. Why did she feel bad? I am undeserving of this boon. She waited for it to end, for payment to come due, but it never came. She understood his words and reasoning but had yet to accept it entirely within her heart.

“Only the beginning. Mere physical delights are the least the world has to offer,” Jon ate his jelly idly. “or some shit like that. Hmm, this jelly is pretty lekker.”

She almost broke down in tears before him but held firm. Did this man deserve her doubt and deception? Was she a mere thief indulging in his hospitality, only to flee at the first sign of danger? His actions were his language. His faith in her, displayed in the time he spent and the knowledge he imparted. These things he could not steal back no matter how deep the deceit. Still, she was unsure. Just a little longer.

“What is the occasion?” asked Keya. Typically she was free to do as she pleased after dinner.

“Two things. First, let’s address the elephant in the room.”

“Gigantic legendary beasts?” She glanced about and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing more magical or new besides.

“Figure of speech, ask Evy later. I mean your magic Kay; it’s friggin awesome, but I’d like to share some insights.”

“Please, do.” Master’s musings, in her experience, verged on prophecy.

“Right, well best I can tell the basic magic from your world essentially applies a body force to whatever you target with your aura. You remember how I mentioned gravity as a body force?”

“I do.”

“Well, if gravity were full of shit and only listened to one person at a time, it would be the same. Instead, gravity ignores and fucks with everyone equally.”

“So they are not at all alike, and ours is a magical force.” Rather disappointing. “I could have told you that.”

“Keyword here is ‘body force’. A force applied uniformly through your matter of choice. When you grasp something with your aura, you grasp every atom you envelop. At least every atom you’re attuned to. I’ve taken to call it your Resonance.”

“Barely weeks a mage and you’re naming more things. Was ‘affinity’ not good enough?”

“Call it what you like,” replied Jon. “Long and short is, yours has a penchant for organics, and it doesn’t have to look far.”

“Indeed, with each passing day of your tuition, I feel my aura suffuse me ever deeper.” Her spoon clinked at the bottom of an empty bowl. It disappeared so quickly; furtively glancing over, Master’s remained almost untouched.

Without comment, he slid the bowl toward her. Gleefully she began wolfing down her second helping of arcane nectar.

A crooked smirk spread upon his lips.

Between mouthfuls, she asked. “How did you divine your yoga and meditation would assist my magic?”

“Educated guess. The magic had to have a physiological or neurological component. Magic can’t just be, well, magic. Bullshit may not have a ‘why’, but there’s always a ‘how’ and ‘what’. The virus that preceded my gift seemed to indicate as such; so I tested, and here we are.”

“Surely the ‘why’ is most important.”

“To us: Yes. To reality: No.” Sipping his chilled cola made the ice cubes clink and froth in the liquid. Afterwards, smacking his lips with a refreshed breath.

Keya mimicked him, much to his bemused gaze. With a moment to contemplate she replied. “The Gods created the world for the races, that is why.” How had an answer so elementary escaped him?

“That answer says much, but explains nothing.”

“The Gods decree is a perfectly sound answer!” Keya retorted.

“Yeah, an answer for absolutely any and every question. It tells us nothing more, and we can learn nothing from it. Infinitely malleable answers are lousy answers. Hard to vary explanations are elegant ones. ‘Coz God done it’ is lazy.”

“Well then, ‘wise’ Master, what elegant answers do you have?”

“You’ve been benching around 160kgs with your magic.”

“Your measures are meaningless to me.”

“350 pounds?”

“Equally unknown. Each kingdom has its decreed measures; save for traders, most people are none the wiser.”

“You’ve been looking at, and hearing numbers for weeks now, and you never thought to ask?!”

“I can count arrows; it is enough.”

“The fuck it is! Thank god for the multiversal metric system. Alpha be praised!”

“That is the most reverent I have ever heard you.”

“And for good reason, trust me. Anyway, you can lift around two human men with those slim twigs you call arms.”

“Oh my!”

“Yeah, and much as I enjoy watching you heave and pant without magic, there was method to my madness. I was trying to gauge limits. Evy helped plot most of the data.”

“And mine are?” If he gave her another inscrutable number, she would punch him.

“Your Mage Power, being the difference between exertion with and without it, is about 680 Watts. Ow!” He rubbed his shoulder. “Well, at least you locked your wrist. Good form.”

“You and your numbers!”

“Your Maximum Draw is a little under a horse’s power. Please don’t hit me world-side.” His voice was pleading.

Keya slumped back on the sofa and stared at her hands. She could plough a field herself now, no donkey or ox required.

“There’s more.”

She looked up.

“You’ve seen your skin and scars, so you know you’re healing faster. Add to that atypical muscle recovery time, weird caloric deficits even accounting for your magical strength, and consistent mass gain.” He ruffled his hair, exhaling. “We don’t even spend that much time outside.”

Keya understood less than half of what he prattled about, as usual. However, given time, he’d make a point she would mostly understand.

“This is wild speculation, but your metabolic processes seem to be supplementing themselves with magic to some degree. I’d need a medical retest and a specialist to be sure, but essentially your body is partially living off magic.”

“Not the white room again!”

“That’s what I thought.” Resting his legs on the table. “In case you were wondering, there’s fuck all different with me. Besides moving pretty lights in a globe, I’m still the same arsehole you met under a tree.”

Perhaps he had not changed, but her estimation of him had, drastically.

“Thank you,” said Keya. Master had surely observed her very meticulously over the last weeks. She still knew little of his Science, though the careful records and rituals for its function did not escape her. It took work and effort to produce the knowledge he openly shared with her.

“For what?”

“For everything thus far.” Come what may, this was a truth she could stand by.

“Sure.” He fidgeted in his seat. “Next, have a look at this.” He conjured an image on the main glass screen. The image was a birds-eye view of five figures on horseback. Slightly oblique, it conveyed the profile and equipment of the men from the rear, yet the bald heads, broad shoulders, and varied skin hues identified them instantly.

“Those are Orcs, and their brawny mounts are the hallmarks of only one tribe: nomadic Mor’ Orcs. Where was this image taken? From your airship, I wager.”

“Yeah, a few miles north of Elgelica.”

“Across the sea? They are very far from the main host battling humans on the mainland then.”

“The war in the North?”

“Indeed. Bard’s tales vex that Mor’ Orcs are formidable foes; they may one day conquer the whole world. Coming from the northeast, they have slowly pushed into human lands, fighting on their mighty mounts.”

“Scouting party or deserters then?”

“Either way, they should be avoided.”

“Hell no, that’s our ticket in!”

“Uh… I was mistaken, Master. They are weak and peaceful religious pacifists.”

“Those weapons and armour say otherwise. You’ve gotta start lying a lot earlier if you wanna be believable.”

“Noted.” Keya tossed her head back on the sofa, staring at the grey ceiling. Being inferior at both truth and lies, compared to Master, was rather humbling. She rolled her head, seeing his cola on the table.

“No! Mine!” He shielded the glass with his hands.

“I didn’t—”

“You were thinking it!”

She was.