A lot could change in an hour. Especially in a Magincian hour.

“How many times must I repeat myself, Initiate McArthur?” The bug-bot said again. “You must draw with your shoulder, not your wrist. Why do I feel that even with a year to train you, I’d fail to impact this abysmal penmanship of yours?”

Millie ground her teeth. “My friends are in danger and you’re making me draw Talismans.” She wanted to scream, she was so frustrated! “How is this helping!?”

“I agreed to train you,” he said with a bored air. “And so I shall. However, for all the ‘insight’ you received from the Death Knell Omen, you remain woefully under-educated in several fundamental Magus skill sets.”

“It’s the stupid Hospitality week’s fault!” She shot back. “What am I supposed to do, break into classrooms and summon Spirits to teach me?”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the room.

“Oh, you have got to be shitting me,” Millie eventually said. The bug-bot snorted in response—an impressive feat given its lack of a nose.

Still, Millie could feel the blush creeping up her neck and tried to stamp down on her embarrassment. She tried to remind herself that this didn’t matter, it was just another infuriating moment in a long string of them. She could deal with it, she had to deal with it, because as frustrating as it was, as stupid as the robot made her feel, he was teaching her despite his constant provocations. He’d even stepped up in ways she hadn’t expected.

Soon after they’d begun, he’d activated the same kind of teaching ability that Braylon’s Coach had used: one she now knew was called the ‘Advanced Training Method.’ Similarly, with Coach, the Fortune-Teller offered this first ‘use’ as free, but unlike before he didn’t restrict her from using a potion to maximize it. That was great, except for one tiny problem.

She didn’t have enough resources left to afford any!

Surprisingly, he didn’t revel in her cursing when she realized the problem. Instead, he offered to provide her with a potion of competence growth if she made a deal. For once, it wasn’t even a bad exchange—he ended up revealing the location of a secret room in the Weaver’s Hall that contained nearly a dozen Lesser Crystal Balls. He then took two of the ten as compensation; one for revealing the room and one for the potion.

Strangely, it was practically an equivalent exchange. There wasn’t anything special about the Lesser Crystal Balls; they were the same as training wands in many regards. And now the rest of them, she figured, could be distributed to train new Seers later on. That was probably why they were there in the first place, she was the leader of a Faction now. Their guiding light towards magical wisdom. God help them all.

Something still doesn’t feel right, she thought. While her mind was having trouble tracking time properly under the combined effects of training and potion—she also found that mental strain from studying was far more difficult to deal with than physical strain—she was absolutely sure that too much time had passed. That made her nervous. Surely her friends didn’t have that much time to spare? And here she was wasting it drawing Runes on random scraps of paper!

Okay, maybe not ‘random,’ she silently admitted, glaring briefly at a small slip on the table. Ironically, it turned out she’d had plenty of blank Talismans from the beginning: they were considered basic school supplies and were dirt cheap in the System. Hell, she’d collected dozens on her first outing back on day one, and why not? Talismans weren’t called the poor man’s enchantments for nothing! She was kind of mad she hadn’t played with them sooner, especially since she’d seen CJ and Catherine experimenting with them.

“Initiate McArthur,” her ‘tutor’ said. “I can assure you that no one refers to Talismans in that regard. That is an opinion that you, and you alone, hold.”

Wait, did he just…? “Hey, are you reading my fucking mind right now!?” She accused him.

The metal creature sighed. “No, Initiate—thank the First. However, you seem to be developing a habit of muttering your thoughts out loud. While that’s understandable given the situation, you may wish to curb that impulse before an unfortunate habit sets in.”

“That can’t be true, can it? That would be…” Millie blushed, realizing she was doing exactly that. Then, she threw her brush down in frustration. “What-the-fuck-ever! Look, I need to help my friends, I can’t keep doing this! Where are the Spells?”

“Aside from the ones you’ve already memorized?” The Fortune-Teller mused.

Shift the Odds, Exceptional Luck, Scry Person, and Fortify Fate.

She blinked, her blush deepening. When had she learned those?

“Wait, these don’t count, these are Practices!” She protested. “I can’t improvise with these, I barely know how they work! And what good is knowing how to anchor something to a Talisman? How is this relevant to the situation?”

“Foundation, Initiate,” he said, as though her friends weren’t dying as they spoke. “Without a solid one, nothing I offer here will matter. Besides, it isn’t uncommon for weaker Magi to begin by memorizing Practices before moving on to true mastery. While it isn’t the ideal method, given you’ll need to unlearn portions of this to learn it properly in the future, the truth is you simply lack the Understanding to grasp these concepts to their fullest. But it only takes a fraction of that wisdom to mimic these Spells in their lesser forms.”

Why does he have to be so damn patronizing? She thought bitterly. “Then can I at least let use this…Scry person thing? I need to know what’s going on. I need to help my friends.”

The Fortune-Teller fell quiet. “I suppose we’ve finally hit that point, haven’t we?”

Yes, finally, he’s—

“You do realize how long we’ve been studying, don’t you?”

A pit opened up in her stomach as she checked her Soul Scroll. As best as she could tell, a full M-hour had passed. No, I thought I was just imagining that.

“We’re almost done with the training?” She said in a panic. “But I feel like I haven’t even started!”

“I know,” the bug-bot said. “I regret to inform you that there's no longer a way for you to help your friends anymore. You’ve missed the critical window and it’s simply too late now to help the majority of them now.”

His voice was oddly…solemn. Almost like he cared.

Not that he does, the fucker.

She could feel the veins bulging in her neck as she barely held back a tirade of curses. “Bullshit, you stupid mother fucker! You said—”

“That I would aid you,” he interjected quickly. “However, the truth of the matter remains. You have no time to make a difference, you never did in fact. Already, many of their Fates have been decided and you were never going to grow strong enough, quick enough, to influence that. Even with my training, even with the potion, it was never going to be enough.”

No, it's a trick, she thought, her blood running cold. It’s always a trick with this bastard. A cost. That means…yes. A deal. That’s what comes next.

“You…there has to be something,” she said quietly. “There has to be. You wouldn’t have done this if it was useless from the start. You said I could save them. Were you lying?”

“Technically, no,” he said, infuriatingly. “There is, however, a way you can still make a difference. A way for you to get the time that you need.”

And there it is. She bit her inner cheek to keep her temper in check. “I know you’ve got another sale’s pitch. Stop dancing around the subject and just say it.”

What’s it going to cost me this time, she wondered. It was beyond maddening, but she knew she’d accept whatever cost she could afford. Him dragging his feet just felt like another way to piss her off. Why though? Why did he enjoy watching her suffer this much?

The Fortune-Teller seemed to mull it over, before finally nodding. “Very well. Please note: I can warn you of the cost, but similar to before—I cannot tell you in full what it will be.”

“Great,” she growled. “Well? Time’s burning.”

The bug-bot let out a soft chuckle. “An apt description, I suppose. However, what this will cost you is something that if you knew now what it was, you would rejoice. But when the time comes, you will weep.”

Oh no, cryptic bullshit, she thought sarcastically. “And when will I pay this mysterious price?” She couldn’t even bring herself to care at this point.

“Just after you’ve finished doing all you can to help your classmates,” he warned. “Do we have a deal?”

“Of course we have a deal,” she snapped. “I don’t have a choice here.”

An abrupt silence fell as the Fortune-Teller stared at her, his unblinking, insectile eyes burrowing into her, his mandibles frozen on his face. Like a metal statue, watching her, no hint as to the emotions beneath the alien surface. She wasn’t sure what was happening, and the suddenness of it made her grow uncomfortable as the quiet dragged on.

“Uh, bug-bot? You didn’t break, did you? Are you oka—”

“You always have a choice,” he whispered, causing her to jump. “Even if you don’t think you do. You do. That is why consent is important, is it not? That is the way for choices to matter. Don’t you agree?”

Don’t I…what? She didn’t know why but she found herself trembling slightly. “Y-yeah,” she stammered out. It had to be fatigue from the strain getting to her. “Of course, I agree. Why are you saying this?”

He fell silent again, looking away. Eventually, she heard him sigh in a very human-like manner. Like a person preparing for what’s to come.

“Do you recall your consultation with the Headmaster?” He said, changing the subject.

What? Hang on—“Ah, yeah, but what the hell were you—”

“During that hour, you and your classmates visited with him,” the bug-bot explained, continuing to ignore her attempt at an interjection. “To all of you, it appeared simultaneous. To the Headmaster, however…”

“It was linear?” She guessed. The bug-bot nodded, though he was watching her sternly. She got the distinct impression he was done with their earlier part of the conversation and would interrupt her again if she tried to bring it back up. Eventually, she decided to let it go.

I need to focus on helping the others anyway, she decided. I’ll figure out this stupid machine later.

“So, what, you’re offering to fold time or something?” It was the only guess she could come up with, especially given what he’d said about her running out of time already.

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” he told her, but she didn’t buy it. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

“Look, not that I don’t believe this is possible,” she said grudgingly (she had seen it first hand after all), “but this has to be a bigger deal than you’re letting on. You can’t just drop this so easily, can you?” She worried how damning his price really would be.

“And why can’t I?” The bug-bot said sweetly. “Do you think I’m incapable of this level of effort after you experienced the Death Knell Omen?”

“Well…no, but—”

“And have you ever inquired as to whether or not such magical services were offered?”

She bristled. “Of course I have! But the System only offers up to tier-three Spells, items, or services. This has to be a higher level than that, right?

“It is,” he agreed. “However, have you ever come to me asking for training?”

She fell silent, trying not to blush again.

“Initiate McArthur, I know you don’t trust me, nor do you like me. That is, in fact, an attitude I have worked hard to foster.”

Gold star for effort then, asshole. It didn’t make sense though. Why push her away?

“Consider for a moment, however, that you stand against enemies that can summon armies, shrug off city-leveling bombardments, and recover from all wounds, even death. And those are simply the ones you’ve bothered to learn about. You haven’t even heard about the lesser threats, such as the wielder of Heaven’s Zealotry, or the—”

“The what now?”

The bug-bot waved at her dismissively. “One of the students has a javelin that turns into a tier-three lightning bolt when thrown. It returns to them after use, but it has a ten Dram cost. Still, it's potent enough to kill several students in a single strike if he gets lucky, especially as most students don’t possess countermeasures.”

Her eye twitched. “Bullshit. That’s utter bullshit!” She had a fucking sling and someone got to be a knock-off Zeus? She wanted to be able to smite a bitch! Wait, did he say it can kill several students at once? The owner hasn’t actually done that, has he?

“That’s just a simple artifact, my dear,” The Fortune-Teller said, chuckling. “As students accumulate resources, more and more items of worth will be gained and distributed. Do you think you’ve seen the true power of a Magus? We call you Initiates for a reason.”

“Okay, I get it,” she said, working hard to compose herself. “What's your point then? That I suck and everyone else is awesome? I don’t care. Can you please turn back time, or whatever, so I can help my friends?”

The bug-bot glared at her, mandibles frowning. “You miss my point, Initiate. Your power isn’t simply Fate. It’s Axiom. Truth! It is knowledge—and knowledge is power. Specifically: your power. And it is my purpose is to help you tap into that potential, which is why I can offer greater training methods than any other source. That is a benefit that only you can gain.”

So others get superpowers and I get cram school. Yay me. Somehow, she felt like she’d gotten the short end of the stick. The very short end.

Still, she paused to consider his words. The problem was, everything came at a price, didn’t it? Was the price he claimed going to be something so simple? Something she’d be glad to lose now, only to cry over later? What did that mean? She didn’t trust it, something was off.

She needed more information.

“Will this effect cause Fate Backlash?” She asked quietly.

“Ah, I’m glad to see you’ve learned some manner of caution,” he said, smiling in that mocking way again. She just glared back in response. “And no, you won’t pay more than the price I’ve already warned you about. This Spell, in particular, is from the Arcana of the Aether, which while Time, like Fate, has its own cosmic balancing force, so long as you follow my directions none of that will affect you.”

“Or anyone I care about?”

“So long as you follow my instructions, no.”

“And it’ll be worth the price? There's no strings attached here?”

He chuckled again, clearly bemused by her sudden prudence. “I suppose you have ample reason to distrust me. Let me help clarify my motivations then. Do you recall Eden’s instructions on the nature of Understanding and its accumulation?”

Millie’s gaze fell. Fuck. “That the more stressful or dangerous the situation, the faster it accumulates.”

“Correct,” he said. “I purposefully dissuaded you from coming to me earlier in the week, through word and magic, to prevent you from wasting time or resources. Coming to me, day after day to train, will get you virtually nowhere, at least by Magincian standards. That is something you’ve already come to understand. Naturally, that means you would have been tempted to purchase the enhanced training I offer, similar to Initiate Rowland’s Coach, but then you would have lacked many of the funds you needed to reach the point you have now.”

“But I would’ve had Spells, wouldn’t I? I can’t believe that wouldn’t have helped.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “But you also would have been less likely to delve into the Archives. There was also a strong chance that you would have come to rely on me, Initiate, rather than show proper initiative.”

Millie snorted. “Me? Rely on you?”

“I did dissuade you,” he said warmly. “Do you think I couldn’t have been more approachable instead?”

“I thought you were going for the whole antagonistic thing though?”

“Of course I am,” he replied. “But could I not have presented myself as your friend, only to betray you later at a vulnerable point?”

God damn it, she thought. “Why then?” She demanded, confused. “I don’t get it, what advantage does this…” She trailed off, the pieces suddenly snapping into place. “Ah fuck me, it’s like you said. You wanted to maximize the effectiveness of the training.”

“Correct. And as you have likely just assumed, not only will the Spell I am about to use grant you more time to help your friends, but when used in conjunction with the Advanced Training Method and the potion you’ve consumed, you will see an even greater effect.”

“…during a time in which I’ll be able to gain massive levels of Understanding due to the stress and danger.”

“Exactly,” he said.

Fuck, I bet CJ would say this is like some XP grinding session or something. You grind for XP, right? You don’t loot it?

“But what about the potion?” She asked. “Won’t that run out soon?”

“Normally it would,” he admitted. “However, I plan on invoking an Echo Cast on it.” He paused when she raised her eyebrow. “Ah, I suppose I should explain that?”

“That’d be swell,” she said dryly.

“It’s possible to recast Spells to sustain them,” he explained. “Even after they’ve ended, given sufficient skill and Sympathetic Link with the caster. However, it’s not always a good choice as the effectiveness of the original effect degrades with each reiteration, but in our current circumstances; Mana is cheap but potions too expensive. So, I’ll simply recast the effects of the potion onto you, likely losing about a fifth of its potency with each subsequent training session.”

Fuck this is really happening, isn’t it? “Is this going to go for ten M-hours like the consultation?”

“It will,” he warned. Was she going to be able to survive this? Even if the potion got weaker, ten Magincian hours of training was…

“This was too perfect an opportunity,” she heard the Fortune-Teller say quietly. She looked up in confusion. “I just wish that…'' he trailed off suddenly, the image going out of focus for a second. When it returned, she could swear she saw a hint of red in his eyes, but it faded so fast she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it.

“Well, you’ll understand in time,” he said ominously. “I will warn you before we begin, that the level of strain you will feel is…harrowing. There is a chance you may go insane.”

“That just means more Understanding, right? More risk, more reward?”

He smiled, neither mocking nor cruel. For once, it was just a smile.

“That is what it means to be Magi, I’m afraid. Now brace yourself, Initiate McArthur. This will hurt.”

She almost quipped a reply, until his hand lifted with a swift motion. Then, he lowered his head, as though in prayer, and she could feel the Sympathetic Chain connecting them shake and vibrate. The red, caustic chain filled with the vitriol and hatred that had grown to define their relationship was nearly as strong as her connection to Katelyn, yet now it was glowing brightly. Suddenly, she felt an inexplicable wrenching sensation as the chain went taut. She felt both pushed away from the Fortune-Teller and pulled backward somehow. Something in the chain changed as well, shifting as it twisted into something black, thickening as—

He slashed the air. Instantly, she felt a burning pain deep within, where she knew her Soul was. The sharp sensation began to spread, starting from her chest and working outward. She gripped her uniform, cloth wrinkling in her fist, and she cried out—but it just got worse. Like the wound was growing out of control.

Somethings wrong, she thought in panic. Something’s happening. I need to…

She didn’t know what she needed. Especially as it felt like the wound was tearing open, ripping her in two. It split, wider and wider until suddenly…

There were two Millies.

“Parallel Paths,” the Fortune-Teller intoned.

Millie blinked two times over before everything she knew, collapsed.

A lot could change in an hour. Especially in a Magincian hour.

And even more so when it was the second time she’d experienced it.

Wait, is this really the second time? Her first response was confusion. Had she just imagined it all? Everything around her appeared the same as she’d left it seconds ago, so she checked her Soul Scroll. The clock had flipped back. She’d really…time traveled? Just like that?

She almost didn’t trust her eyes, until she activated Eyes of Fate and saw how all the chains connecting to her friends had shifted around suddenly. Furthermore, there was a quality to them, one that was odd and unclear. Yet strangely, she recognized what it was. It was the same sensation she’d felt between Tanya’s chain and the Knight of Wands. The feeling was…time? She could sense temporal distortions in the chains.

That was…that didn’t make any sense, did it? Why had Tanya had that quality in her chain? What the hell was going on?

Following one chain reeking of the distortion, she turned to the side and looked…nowhere. The chain simply vanished into thin air, but she could tell it was connected to something, she was certain of it. Yet, she couldn’t see it from her perspective. So, she turned her gaze back, focusing on the chain, following it, link by link, piece by piece, just like she had to get into the Weaver’s Hall. Eventually, it worked and she found herself staring in a whole new direction. It hadn’t been there before, and yet…it always had?

Her brain started doing a fuzzy dance as she struggled to make sense of it. Finally, out of sheer desperation, she decided to think of the direction as ‘Sideways.’ She didn’t know how else to explain or fathom it, but it felt like what she was doing—looking Sideways at the universe itself. From that strange perspective though, she saw another Millie sitting at her desk learning to draw Talismans and getting frustrated with her teacher.

Gawking at the sheer confusion the sight gave her, Millie looked away, only to notice more chains leading to other Sideways views. She followed one of them, finding a beleaguered Millie staring back at her. She jumped slightly when the strung-out girl gave her a little wave. Shocked to her core, Millie returned it weakly.

A voice nearby cleared its throat, making her jump again as she turned back to the Crystal Ball and the tutor ‘teleconferencing’ in.

“I will kindly ask you not to interact with your temporal echos, Initiate,” the bug-bot said seriously. “As I said before, Fate is not unique in having a cosmic balancing force and I do not have the time nor the inclination to fully instruct you in the nature of Paradox. Especially given how this is the Aether’s domain, not the Axiom’s. So please, do try to focus on what you currently view as your present.”

“But…how does this work,” she asked, gesturing around. “Are you rewinding everything? Or just me?”

The bug-bot tsked. “It’s a localized temporal pocket, Initiate, nothing more. You will want to take care of your actions here, however. In theory, the effects of the Parallel Paths have already taken effect in the outside world. So to avoid Paradox, the present you will only utilize your Scrying Spells for direct observation when I say so and you will be cautious with any activities that affect the outside world. Once you’ve taken an action with consequence, you aren’t allowed to retry it later—so, make your move so only when ready.”

“Or else it's Paradox central?” She mused. Her head was buzzing like crazy right now.

“Essentially. And just to be clear: you do not have the power to challenge something as unforgiving as Paradox. That is why you will focus on practicing your Axiom Spells and not push at the boundaries I set. This is for your sake, not mine. Is this clear?”

She nodded slowly. Fuck, this is going to be intense, isn’t it?

“Good,” he said. “Now, while I know you are anxious to begin ‘helping,’ there is far more foundational work to cover. So, to pick up where we left off we will dive into the three major arts of the Axiom: Scrying, Weaving, and Binding. The Spells I have introduced to you already are considered basic Divinatory Practices associated with these arts, but we will continue now starting with Scrying. Open your book to chapter four on page thirty-seven—we will begin with setting up traditional Divination Scrying Arrays.”

A lot could change in an hour. Especially in a Magincian hour.

And even more so when it was…the fourth time she’d experienced it?

Millie’s hands blurred as cards flew across the table. Nearby, an array of Lesser Crystal Balls had been set up, with her primary Relic sitting on an elevated position overlooking everything. Inside it, the image of the Fortune-Teller continued to guide her.

Several times the strain of the situation had almost overwhelmed her, made worse by the knowledge that she wasn’t even halfway done. So, head down, nose to the grindstone, she turned her mind off to anything that wasn’t Formations, magical theory, or Talisman crafting. She didn’t feel herself gaining any cosmic understanding, but she knew she was at least learning the basics. Her power really was just cram school shoved into a single afternoon, wasn’t it?

Somehow, that seemed fitting.

“How many times must I repeat myself, Initiate McArthur?” The bug-bot said…again? “You must draw with your shoulder, not your wrist. Why do I feel that even with a decade to train you, I’d fail to impact this abysmal penmanship of yours?”

A strange sense of Déjà vu filled her, but she shook her head clear of the distraction. It was easy to get confused right now.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” she protested, though she’d already started re-drawing a new talisman furiously, replacing the dud. “I just need one of these to work, then it’ll anchor the Spells so I don’t have to maintain them, yeah?”

Her teacher tsked again but watched silently as she labored.

A part of her wondered where the Mana to keep doing this was coming from. Surely her Relic couldn’t afford all this, right? Was it her tutor then, keeping her going similar to what Coach had done? It seemed difficult to imagine though, even if it was a Practice; the Spell Scry Person was tier-two and difficult to get right. Without a strong Sympathetic Link to go on she was likely to fail, and she dreaded to think how wasteful her Mana usage was as she cast lines out, flailing about trying to establish a connection. Hell, she could feel the Mana in the room building up, hanging over her like a miasma, swirling and reacting with each Spell she cast. It hung on her, like sweat in a sauna.

When she finished drawing the Talisman, she channeled Scry Person into the paper, the Mana in the room rushing around her, filling the paper which trembled precariously. But how exactly is this being cast if it isn’t draining my Mana Pool? She was distracted from her thoughts as the Spell anchored properly this time. It wasn’t the first one she’d succeeded in, but it still made her happy. Even after…wait, how many times had she done this again? Ten times? Fifty times? A thousand times? She honestly couldn’t tell.

Once it was active, however, she stuck it next to a Lesser Crystal Ball and linked the anchored Spell. Technically, she cheated by physically grabbing the Sympathetic Links her magic created and smushing them together. Her ability to tangibly interact with the chains had grown, but that wasn’t actually how this was supposed to work. She *should* have used her Mana Control to influence the connections to link naturally, but that was time-consuming and a pain in the ass. Both objects were designed to be linked together as it was and her roughshod approach worked just fine, even if the Fortune-Teller called it ‘inelegant.’ If anything, his displeasure at her methods just motivated her to do it her way over his.

She was brought back to the moment when the links finished fusing and an image of Katelyn appeared in the orb.

“Please, s-stop,” Katelyn whimpered, and Millie’s expression darkened. Robed people were dragging her naked, bruised body across a balcony, a crowd watching and laughing at her humiliation. It looked like they’d already reached the Black Crystal, and soon they’d string her up in a cage above the dance floor. She could tell from the unfocused look in Katelyn’s eyes that they’d already drugged her.

The fourth iteration had just begun yet this was the third time she’d watched these events unfold. It wasn’t any easier this time around, but she’d already made the heart-wrenching decision to leave Katelyn alone. Since she couldn’t influence her, and wouldn’t take any actions during the Parallel Paths, the bug-bot had let her watch. She still needed something to practice Scrying on after all, and like a masochist, she kept choosing Katelyn. Their connection made it…easy. Her begging didn’t.

But it reminded her of what was at stake if she failed.

“That’s enough. Focus, Initiate,” the Fortune-Teller said. “You don’t need to watch it all yet again. What did I tell you about prioritization?”

“Treat crisis situations like triage,” Millie repeated. With effort, she tore herself away to look at the other orbs, mostly showing random, meaningless places or objects. Most were from the previous iteration, Katelyn’s orb was the only one she kept recasting. While Katelyn needed help, the fact of the matter was her life wasn’t in danger right now, just her Soul. But that was strong—strong enough that she had some time. Most of the others weren’t so lucky.

“Isabella,” Millie whispered. The tension in her chain was rising, about to spill over. She was sure of it. “I need to help her, but…”

“A good choice,” the bug-bot said. “However, as you discovered previously she’s already in the midst of a duel. While she’s trapped her current opponent, and taken several potions to recover in preparation for her next move, she’ll be done soon. Your readings have shown you how poor her chances of survival are, so with that in mind, are you sure you don’t want to turn your attention elsewhere? A sacrifice here could save a life elsewhere.”

“Fuck you,” Millie growled, pulling up an available Lesser Crystal Ball and throwing down cards for another Read Person. While she was using the tier-two version (she’d decided to call the tier-four version Greater Read Person to differentiate it), she still strained to make it work.

As the cards fell to the table, Mana surged above her like a storm hanging overhead. She quickly flicked through her Eyes of Fate, searching for the Sympathetic Link connecting her to Isabella. When she found it, she grabbed it and pulled it back to tie it to her cards, establishing a link. She nearly gasped when the Mana hanging above cascaded down like a sudden shower before slamming into the Spell. It was supposed to be invisible energy, but why did it feel like her hair had blown back and her cards fluttered?

“Inelegant,” the bug-bot complained sourly. “Am I training a Human or a Beast? Honestly, I wish to know—I may need to alter my approach at this rate.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Millie said. “If it works, it works, so shove—”

The orb lit up as the Spell finalized and a rush of Mana rippled out.

Past. She saw flashes of Isabella in the Lesser Crystal Ball, struggling in a broken home with three siblings, a mentally ill mother, and a father who was…imprisoned? She couldn’t tell specifics as the images montaged around, but it seemed to be a blue-collar crime based on how nice his prison looked. Not that it made the Navarro’s lives any easier as she watched the girl throw herself into modeling just to keep her family going. Things also got more…explicit than she’d imagined. I guess Instagram was just her starting point…

Present. The beauty stood in a magically expanded space, circling a strange tiger-girl trapped in a circle of light. She was breathing heavily, recovering from their first real clash. She knew this was a Fate image though, not a Time one—this was technically what was most likely the present, not necessarily what was happening. Still, she could see how the girl was preparing for what came next as her eyes kept glancing at her brother and…beyond, towards Toronto in the distance.

Her other siblings, Millie realized. What exactly was your plan here, Issie? The cards were clearly prioritizing her underlying motivations.

Future. Everything went to shit as the Lesser Crystal Ball devolved into a kaleidoscope of meaningless colors.

“Fucking hell,” Millie said, dropping Read Person and throwing down stabilizing Tarot Cards as she cast Examine Outcomes, trying to break through the noise. The Mana nearby rose back up, slowly dancing around her like partygoers at a ball. Meanwhile, her hands waved in the air like a conductor, her fingers plucking at invisible chains that vibrated uncertainly. It wasn’t working—the images kept falling apart.

“The further one ventures,” the Fortune-Teller said, “the more unclear the web becomes. Direct your attention to the knot just before the largest tangle. Your mind may interpret this as a backlog of products struggling with a jammed machine, or a giant ball of…chains, I suppose.”

Following his directions, Millie waved her arms over the Lesser Crystal Ball, shifting it back towards the beginning of the wild colors. When he’d first taught her the ‘wavy arm’ trick, she’d thought the motions silly, but the truth was she was strumming and manipulating the chains of Fate her Attainment showed her, letting her shift and twist the image in the ball as she used Examine Outcomes to pluck at the mess of chains.

Truth be told, she liked to think of it as fancy VR. She probably just looked like a two-bit fortune teller though, at least to any sane onlooker.

“Damn it,” Millie cursed. She’d found the ‘snag’ he mentioned, Examine Outcomes struggling with a multitude of possible futures she could barely make sense of. As she delicately peeled away chains to inspect them, she could only barely make out shapes in the colors appearing in the orb. Despite her efforts, it was clear there was one branch of Fate that ended with a complete collapse that her Spell couldn’t even come close to making out. She did manage to decipher the other two paths though.

Not that it mattered.

“Either her brother loses his cool and attempts to help, which ends in execution for violating the duel and Issie enslaved, or she dies in the duel and he’s enslaved after. The third path is just chaos.”

The best she could conjure in the Lesser Crystal Ball was a mix of colors as a machine screeched in protest, chains tangling, some even snapping in her hands. It was too damn scrambled to make out any details and Examine Outcomes fell apart from the strain as she shook her hand. It actually stung where the supposedly ephemeral chain had hit. Was the pain all in her head?

“Ah, that’s what we call a confluence of Fate. Do you recall my initial explanation?”

Two iterations ago? “Barely,” she admitted, head aching. “It's when Fate gets tangled from a sudden influx of outcomes, right? Wait, no there were other reasons too. It can also happen from the deployment of countermeasures, like from Fortify Fate, or from the unexpected introduction of a massive change in Fate. One that will have far-reaching consequences.”

“Correct. I will of course assure you that in this case, my manipulations have already come to an end. Further, there are no other Seers in play, so you may rule out the second option. Let us say then, for the sake of argument, that it’s the third option. What do you think could happen that would be so immense as to count as a far-reaching consequence? Given the current context, of course.”

Why would he…? Oh, right. The answer was obvious, wasn’t it?

She sighed. “Someone gets a Seed Gift?”

“Good, you can read context,” the Fortune-Teller said, nodding. “Now, what you must ascertain is which of those two options is more likely. Does the situation devolve into chaos, or does someone gain a Seed Gift, thus altering the course of Magincia’s Fate profoundly? Determine this, and you will be better able to decide how best to approach the situation to achieve your preferred outcome.”

“But…I don’t have time to figure that out,” she said. She really didn’t—Isabella recovered quickly at the start of Millie’s loop, meaning she had minutes at best to try and sort through the beauty’s Fate. Once that moment passed, her Fate readings were impossible to decipher and to avoid Paradox the Fortune-Teller refused to let her Scry the outcome.

Even with all the time in the world to train, how was she supposed to save Isabella during such a short window?

“Your observation is correct,” the Fortune-Teller said. “However, there is a trick to this you’re missing. Until the consequences of an action have occurred, it’s still possible to manipulate the chain of events.”

Her head hurt. So fucking much.

“I’m sorry, explain that again?”

“Should I use smaller words?” He taunted.

“No, but you can go fuck yourself,” she spat back. “Seriously, what the hell were you meaning?”

“Think of it like this,” he explained. “If the most important moment of your day is a meeting that will decide your path in the future, does anything you do prior matter?”

She blinked. “I mean…yeah? A full day to prepare ahead of time is pretty useful, depending on whatever your meeting’s for.”

The Fortune-Teller smiled, obviously bemused by her answer. “While tactically correct, when it comes to Fate…the answer is no. You see, all events have an importance to them, like a weight, which is determined by how much your future will bend or change in response to that moment. So long as none of those minor events interfere with the more major event, then they simply don’t matter. In fact, Fate will often turn a blind eye to events that lack meaning. Unlike Time, Fate doesn’t care about the sequence or integrity of events, only their outcomes.”

What the hell was he implying? Her sluggish mind felt like pudding struggling to grow legs and tap dance. “Alright, so you’re saying…what, that the order of operations leading to a specific outcome doesn't necessarily matter, not so long as the outcome remains the same?”

“And even then, when it happens means nothing so long as the outcome remains,” he explained. “Deviations from that are what cause Fate Backlash, but some moments are so trivial that Fate simply doesn’t track them. Whether you stopped for a beverage, went shopping, or spoke to a friend means little unless they have lasting consequences, such as that meeting. So, keep in mind my first words: only once something has occurred does Fate lock it in.”

Once it has occurred, she mulled it over. Once it has occurred then…

“Wait…” she paused, realizing what he’d just said. “Fate doesn’t care about timing.”

The Fortune-Teller smiled.

She kept the thought going. “If it only cares about important things happening, such as the outcome of the duel, then that means that because Isabella hasn’t, what, started fighting again I can…do something to postpone it? Give me more time to figure things out?”

“Precisely,” he said. “Her duel has already begun, so that’s unavoidable. But the details of the duel are addressable. So, if what you need is more time, all you have to do is create a situation in which you get it without influencing the outcome. Well, at least until you know precisely what direction you wish to weigh the outcome towards. That should be your final move.”

“But…who the hell determines what’s important to someone’s Fate? How can you arbitrarily decide what can or can’t be changed without Backlash? What if that coffee was bad and got you sick, or your friend made you late?”

The Fortune-Teller shrugged. “In truth, it's a matter of Skill. If you were capable enough, you could retroactively change when she had the duel to a more opportune time. Even more powerful Weavers might be able to negate the situation entirely, even after it occurred. Though, as you can imagine, that would create substantial Fate Backlash. It will always be easier to change something before it happens, but even in moments like this—you aren’t without options.”

God damn it, she thought. Why was Fate so imprecise that this was a needling point she had to play around? Then again, if it was like Time it would have blasted her into space dust by now just for poking it. So…maybe it wasn’t so bad?

“Now,” he continued. “Do keep in mind that I’ve already put in plenty of work building up Initiate Rosenberg’s paranoia and ensuring she was able to counter your classmate's plan, so you have a good deal of Fate Backlash I caused to work with. Just remember, if you push past that, thus creating your own Fate Backlash, then that opens me up to counter your efforts.”

“And will you?”

“Naturally.”

“Great,” she sighed. What can I do to buy more time? Since Paradox prevented her from watching and reacting (because to the outside world she’d technically already taken all the actions she hadn’t even gotten to yet), Millie needed to figure out how to steer Isabella towards the most chaotic Fate. While it was a gamble, it was the only option that didn’t explicitly end in death and enslavement. Further, once she got into it, she could make additional changes, hopefully finding a way to help them both. But what the hell could she—

…bad coffee.

A terrible plan came to her suddenly, and she swallowed hard. Given what the Fortune-Teller just said about consequences…fuck, this is bad.

“Can I influence something like…the rate of potion metabolization?” She asked. “Like, slow it down or something?”

The bug-bot smiled. “Let me introduce you to the Spell: Lesser Misfortune. If we begin now, you should have sufficient proficiency in hexes to implement it in your next iteration.”

Sorry, Issie, Millie thought. This is the only way…

Isabella’s stomach rumbled loudly as everyone in the tea house stared at her. Her face flushed with heat, though thankfully it would be hard to make out.

Fuck, toxicity buildup is so much worse than I realized, she thought. Can you really get indigestion from too many potions? That should be on a damn warning label! Worse, more than ten Magincian minutes had gone by and she’d barely regained any Mana from her potions. The clear distress her innards had developed was just icing on the cake.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Rebecca said sharply.

“There’s no time limit on duels,” Isabella shot back. She would have been more…confrontational with her response, but stomach problems were not something she’d anticipated. This had completely stolen her thunder.

Feeling her blush deepen, she mentally prepared herself for the inevitable: she was going to have to rush to a corner, flip a table over, and shit on the floor. She couldn’t believe this was what was happening right now in the middle of a life or death fight. But her Spirit Prison could last an M-hour, so it wasn’t like she was technically in a rush at the moment. She had all the time she needed to accept her fate.

God this is so fucked up.

A part of her wanted to die in embarrassment, but she ruthlessly squashed it. The same way she’d done the first time she’d gone bare-breasted on camera.

It's just a body, she told herself. It works the way that it works. I will do whatever it takes to get through this. Her stomach growled again, roaring as loudly as Okimi had in the battle. Several people in the crowd snickered in response but one bystander, in particular, had clearly had enough.

“Oi, come now,” Oni…chan said. “Yous want a drink, yeah? I can make ya somethin’ that’ll fix ya right up. Even fill up that Mana of yours so we’s can get on with the fight.”

“What!?” Rebecca screeched. “You can’t help her, this is a duel! You—”

“Untwist yer panties, li’l girl, I’m not helpin’ her, I’m helpin’ all of yous!”

“Little? I’m older than you, you overgrown brat!”

The Oni sniffed imperiously at the comment, literally looking down at the fuming Golden Girl. “Listen—yous want to watch that girl make a mess out ‘ere? ‘Cause yous gets to clean it up then! Yous want to wait another hour for her to finish this? Then yous gets to order drinks for yer Faction fer makin’ me wait! So ‘eres how it be: I ain’t helpin’ her, not really. She won’t be gettin’ nothin’ she ain’t already ‘ave. I’s just offerin’ to speed things along, yeah? An’ make some o’ that unpleasantness goes away. So? What’ll it be? Do I’s get a buckets for ya to use, or do I’s mix a drink?”

Rebecca visibly ground her teeth, glaring between the Oni and Isabella. As much as Isabella wanted to say something, her stomach rumbled again, so she remained silent, trying desperately to hold on to what dignity she had left. Rebecca meanwhile, stared balefully before a horrified look swept the girl’s face when the Oni lifted a bucket from behind the counter. Isabella guessed she was probably considering what shoveling shit would be like before she obviously made a different decision.

Rebecca sighed deeply. “God fucking damn it. Fine. Give her the potion, or drink, or whatever so we can finish this. How is this even happening?”

I couldn’t agree more, door greeter. Gingerly, Isabella approached the bar where the Oni had already tossed the bucket away and begun fixing up a drink. Despite being a tea house, it was clear that the Oni also served hard alcohol.

Great, I could use a stiff drink, Isabella thought. I wonder if I can get a barrel to drown in and never show my fucking face again? Maybe the bucket could do in a pinch.

“Hmm, my instincts tells me yous’ll probably like a good storm. Tries this,” Oni-chan said, handing over a dark drink. Isabella cocked an eyebrow when she saw it. There was a literal storm inside the midnight black liquid.

“Is this supposed to be a Dark and Stormy?” She asked skeptically as a spark fizzled above the drink. How had the Spirit known her favorite drink anyway? “I’m not going to die drinking this, am I? Get electrocuted or whatever?”

The Oni frowned. “A curse upon anyones dumb ‘nough to ruin good drink. I’ll say this though, the medium don’t always have to match the payload, sos to speak. So aye, it's a Dark an’ Stormy, but what it does is what I says already. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less. Just some Mana and a good kick in the guts to get ‘em right back in place.” She emphasized her description with a childish smirk.

Whatever, I don’t care anymore, Isabella decided, chugging the drink. Immediately, she was assaulted with an almost overwhelming taste of ginger, coupled with borderline acid levels of burning, but she forced herself to finish it. Once it was done, she coughed, smacking at her chest, trying to clear her throat as she slammed the glass down.

Then, it really hit.

A storm lit up in her veins. With wide eyes, she realized it was very much not metaphorical. Her arms shook, her legs trembled, her hair rose, and tiny arcs of electricity jumped over her body. She fell forward, gripping the bar, the wood-burning where her hands touched it, grinding her teeth to keep from screaming, hoping desperately that lighting wasn’t going to come shooting out of her ass. She heard her brother shouting in alarm nearby, voices rising from Rebecca and her cronies as the Oni shouted back. But none of that mattered.

This. Was. Ecstasy.

There was no other way to describe it. Isabella breathed out, a puff of charged particles leaking out as her fingers dug into the burning wood, tearing it apart like warm butter. Then, she threw her head back and howled with laughter. The energy inside was flying through her, slowly leaving as it discharged and grounded itself nearby, but she could feel her Mana refilling faster than it ever had before. And the rush that brought her was beyond anything she had ever experienced.

“Hey, I thought you said—”

“Shudup,” the Oni hollered, silencing Rebecca. “Just give ‘er a minute, yeah? It’s always most intense yer first time.”

“Wait, what?” The Golden Girl actually blushed.

“Fuck,” Isabella said, gasping as she came down from the shortest, but most intense high of her life. “What the hell was that?” She pulled away from the bar, leaving imprints where she’d pulverized the wood. Strangely, her hands were pristine other than the soot that got on them.

“Oh, that?” The Oni said, acting innocent. She took a moment to pick at an ear, digging deep. “I’s believe yous Mage-types calls it Essence Fever. Happens when you gets lots o’ Mana fast, kinda supercharges ya, yeah? Makes you stronger, faster, all that. It don’t last long, but feels good, don’t it?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Isabella said, laughing lightly. She chose then to lean against the bar to recover, every heartbeat sending another tremble of energy through her body. Still, she could tell her guts had calmed down, her fatigue was wiped away, and her Mana had completely recovered. Hell, it felt overfull, though she figured that was probably just her imagination.

This is beyond incredible, she thought. Is this why most potions take so long to work? To avoid this? She felt bristling with energy in every conceivable sense.

“Good. Nows that thats done, lets gets on with it!” The Oni said jovially, shoving Isabella away from the bar. The girl stumbled, laughing rather than cursing though. She felt so right again. Back in the moment, with a cocky grin on her face. Who cares that she’d had an upset stomach? She could tear these assholes apart—she would tear them apart.

She was getting her brother out of here, and the Golden bitch was paying the price.

“Wait, did the Oni just cheat?” Millie said, looking up in panic. “How—why—no, can she do that? She’s the referee!”

“Oh?” The Fortune-Teller replied, somehow looking smug with his mandibles. “Was that not your predicted outcome?”

“What? No! I just…ugh—fuck it. If it works, it works I guess.”

“I must say,” the Fortune-Teller said. “It is amusing to see you cursing those you care about.”

Millie winced. “She’ll forgive me, right? Water under the bridge and all that?”

The Fortune-Teller stared at her, bemused.

Check, never let Issie know that was me, she decided.

“You know, you truly are the Weaver’s Disciple,” the Fortune-Teller said. “I think I understand why she accepted you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Millie said flatly.

The bug-bot chuckled. “She is called the Seer of Discord, yes? Even her allies learned to fear her—something you should keep in mind.”

Millie narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t sure how to take that, but the image in the orb lifted its bladed hand to forestall her, regardless.

“You need to focus,” he reminded her. Annoyingly, she knew he was right. “Pushing the Oni to get bored was a good step. Now you must take the next.”

Millie nodded. Manipulating people directly was difficult with Axiom magic, however the Oni had a growing chance of getting bored and acting out, almost like a game character. It was strange, but she hadn’t questioned it given that Shaggy Breeches had similar elements to him. Instead, she’d used Shifting the Odds and applied it to surprisingly good effect. Now came the hard part.

“Fools Rush In,” she intoned, laying out cards. In some ways, she was hexing Isabella again, but in her mind, she argued against it. She wasn’t making the girl do anything she wouldn’t normally do—she was just making it more likely she’d act without thinking it through, or make a snap judgment. There was every chance she’d just ignore the effect anyway as it wasn’t particularly strong. But if she fell for it then…

Well, Millie didn’t know exactly. Examine Outcome showed Isabella doing something spectacular, something she felt the girl would do in the ideal situation even, though something had prevented that until now.

Or at least, it was something she couldn’t have done until the Oni had cheated. What exactly had the Oni done, anyway?

The only thing Millie was sure of now, was that a Seed Gift was on the line.

I hope you’ve got a miracle up your sleeve, girl, Millie thought. ‘Cause once this is done, the rest will be up to you.

How the fuck…? Isabella flexed her hand. If she wasn’t working to keep her surprise off her face, she’d have pulled out her Soul Scroll to make absolutely certain. However, all her senses told her the same thing.

She had twenty-one Mana. Twenty-one. Her cap was only sixteen. Not only had the damn drink the Oni made refilled her, it had given her five extra! How was this allowed?

A part of her wanted to protest. Another part of her told that part to shut the fuck up and stay quiet. If the referee of the match was rigging it in her favor, why the hell should she complain? She just wished she knew why it had—

She paused as something dawned on her, and glanced up into the Bound girl’s eyes. The feral, cat-like eyes were filled with fury, but deep within she thought she could see panic. Fear, even. The eyes of Okimi Lavore.

The girl was still there, wasn’t she? Deep down? Was it possible…to save her?

What am I thinking? Oh, saving her was simple enough. It was just stupid.

Isabella’s Spirit prison cost her fifteen Mana. Her Spirit killing power cost ten. She also had a Spirit weakening Spell, but it only worked on imprisoned Spirits. It cost five. There was also a power that helped her sense Spirits, but she hadn’t needed it in her current circumstance, so she hadn’t wasted the three Mana for it. The last Spell the Artifact gave her though, was the very power the Jade Exorcists Earrings were named for.

Exorcism of the Jade Priest. Ten Mana and she could separate the Tiger Spirit from the girl.

She hadn’t planned on using it on Okimi, truth be told. She felt guilty for that, but the only way it would have helped is if she excised the Spirit, then killed Okimi, releasing the Spirit from its bindings. It had been her plan with Rebecca, and afterward, Isabella was going to use a Talisman she’d purchased to invoke a binding contract with Solarus. She wasn’t actually sure how well that would’ve gone, as the Spirit still had to accept the bindings willingly, but it didn’t matter anymore.

If she excised the Tiger Spirit, it would simply re-manifest alongside Rebecca after the Spirit Prison ended. So for this fight, she’d planned on using the Spirit weakening power, followed by the Spirit killing power to slay the then-vulnerable Bound. That would kill Okimi and wound the Spirit, hopefully for a good long while. She wished it could be more, but…

Ironically, killing Spirits was more difficult than the name of her power let on. Spirits were generally far tougher than people, even Magi, it was just that they normally couldn’t wield their full might physically—they were beings of ephemera after all. Wounding them in their ‘unmanifested’ state, such as while bonded with a host, would never kill them. All it could do was injure them, banishing them home in the process.

Likewise, killing their contractors also banished them back to their home ground. In many ways, it let them treat their ‘partner’ as a meat shield, and since it took a very specific, very questionable power or setup to literally kill a Spirit, it wasn’t something they often worried about.

That was where Isabella’s bad plan was starting to form.

If she freed Okimi, excising the Tiger Spirit, she could fight it directly, ignoring the girl. The thing was, her Jade Prison would manifest the Spirit in order to separate it from its host. It could be killed in that state, but…it would also have full access to all its abilities, all its strengths, and very little reason to hold back.

The combination of the exorcism, prison, and slaying powers was often referenced as a Spiritual Execution. However, the full combo cost a minimum of thirty-five Mana to pull off. Forty if she went for the weakening power to make it easier.

Fifteen for the prison, she counted. Ten for the exorcism. Ten for the killing art. It was why she’d considered getting a Spirit fighting spear, but the cheapest ones were tier-one artifacts, costing a thousand RP. It still would’ve only wounded the Spirits anyway, so she hadn’t thought it was worth it and had gone for the more expensive earrings instead, banking on her anti-Rebecca plan.

But now I have enough Mana, she thought. Enough for the rest of the ritual. With the prison already established and twenty-one Mana in the tank, she could perform the exorcism, infuse her spear, and kill the Tiger Spirit that had enslaved Okimi, freeing the girl permanently. Her previous idea had been to weaken and fight it, which would’ve only cost fifteen Mana.

The question remained though—was this really worth the effort? Was this the right thing to do? If she infused her spear, she could kill Okimi, wound the spirit, and then move on to the next opponent. She might be able to take out two more before the power ran out, though it would be harder without the prison.

The thing that galled her though, was all that did was leave a trail of bodies on the floor. The Spirits would recover—this cost Rebecca nothing she cared about. This was meaningless.

There were also at least six more duels in front of her. She’d counted the scrolls—Rebecca hadn’t bothered hiding them, she was obviously trying to intimidate her. That meant there was no winning, not realistically. Even the best odds couldn’t pull her through this.

When Isabella relaxed her hand, she looked back up, meeting the beast's eyes. Seeing not the Spirit, but the girl trapped inside.

Fuck, don’t do this. Don’t, I could take all six out. It could happen—I could get lucky. Maybe with the toxicity gone, I can drink more Mana potions. Drag out the fights, recover enough for a refresh of the Spells. She swore she could see the girl, hear her weeping. Begging for help. Let her go. Write her off. She doesn’t fucking matter, get your damn head in the game! Whatever it takes and all that shit!

She knew her brother was counting on her. She knew her younger siblings were outside the Academy, needing her. She knew there was a clear path before her, even if the odds were impossible. But she also knew what the right thing to do was, and fuck did it piss her off. Why did these bastards get to enslave people without consequence!?

She glanced up and saw the Oni smiling lazily.

Consequences. There was one thing Isabella could do, one that would damn her forever in the eyes of Spirits. Something that would probably make her hate herself too. Could she cross that line?

She’d read that Spirits would often die fighting if they risked violating the very ideals that made them what they were. However, that zealotry also meant that when faced with death that would prevent them from fulfilling their goals, they could often be put into bad situations. Sometimes that ended with Spirits going bad, which was why items like the Jade Priest’s earrings existed.

“Fuck it,” Isabella said quietly. The crowd murmured, but she ignored them. Flipping her spear around, she stepped forward, raising a hand.

If I’m going to die, she thought, I’ll solve at least one fucked up thing in this bullshit city before I do. Better yet—she might just get the power she needed to win, even if she was sacrificing her future in the process.

She tapped into her earrings, and let its bullshit-laden words flow out.

“By the mercy of the Jade Priestess,” she intoned. “By the blessings of the Five Winds. I beseech thy aide, Mother of Spirits. Oh, blessed Harbinger and holy bringer of authority, by your grace do I command. By your will do I speak. Let all who hear, take this to heart. I command mine enemy: leave that girl.”

The room began shaking, the Bound nearby crying out in alarm. The enslaved Okimi looked up at her, hatred and hope vying in her eyes.

“Fell Spirit: scatter to the Winds. Drift into the Void. Be as smoke, fleeing the snuffing of the candle, as wax melting before the flame. I command thee twice: leave that girl.”

“Your actions are meaningless!” Rebecca shouted. “When this is done, I’ll shove that Tiger straight back into you or your brother. You’re murdering an innocent girl for nothing!”

“Let all know that the wicked shall perish. That mine enemies are the Mother’s enemies. Be driven before us, let the Mother’s will cry out. Thrice do I command thee: Leave. Her. Now.”

The Bound Okimi screamed like a wounded animal as her body twisted in on itself, bones snapping, flesh tearing and healing over. She clawed at her skin, as though trying to rip it off. Eventually, she succeeded.

The body of a girl covered in ragged, torn clothing was ejected dramatically from the circle. Okimi rolled on the ground, pale, covered in red scratch marks all along her body. Immediately, she began crying and retching uncontrollably from the sidelines. Meanwhile, inside the circle a gigantic tiger stood frozen in the center, its gaze casting towards Okimi possessively before falling on Isabella. There was nothing but pure hatred in its eyes.

Breathing heavily, Isabella removed a Talisman from her bag, tossing it towards the edge of the circle. It aligned perfectly with it, copies of it forming rapidly as they spread to cover the circumference of the cage. They lit up when finished, words and writing projected onto the transparent wall.

“A binding?” Rebecca said. “You idiot. Do you really think this Spirit will help you? I summoned him. I brought him forth. If you wanted to join me, you didn’t have to go through so much trouble.”

“You have much to answer for, little prey,” the Tiger growled. “This deal will crush you, I will crush you. You have my word on it.”

“No, I don’t think it will,” Isabella said, stepping forward. “Soul Infusion: Killing Intent.”

Her Soul pushed outward, much like with Majestic Presence. Only, it didn’t go far in this case. Instead, it covered her body before focusing on the spear in her hands, coating it with a thick Jade-green miasma that began to bleed along the edge of the spear’s tip, dripping a thick, red liquid. Her muscles began to vibrate with intensity, an overwhelming desire to kill filling her, urging her forward. She remained calm and focused, however.

The Tiger hesitated in its cage, Rebecca and her mooks going deathly silent.

“That…that is a Sacred art you wield mortal,” the Tiger said, its voice wavering more in disbelief than anything else. “That power is for Justice—what you are doing is blasphemy!”

“It's also used for vengeance,” Isabella whispered. “To bring a twisted Spirit to rest.”

“You dare,” the Tiger roared. “I have done nothing to earn such reproach! You would…no, you would not throw down a binding if you planned on murder. This is a ruse, you wish to pressure me into a contract! You do not force a pact with a Spirit, mortal. You do not call on the Mother’s name to chain her children! You do not—”

“Enslave your kind?” Isabella said, before gesturing with her chin. “Like you did to these kids?”

“That is not the same,” the Tiger said, its back and forth prowling taking it to the far end of the cage. “We are custodians to these Magi. We are assisting them, helping them grow stronger. They would be dead if not for our aid!”

Isabella pointedly turned to look at the shivering mess of a girl laying on the floor nearby, weeping uncontrollably. “Yes, I can see the benefits of your ‘aid’ quite well.”

The Tiger growled. “You will be marked,” it warned. “The Spirits will reject you. The Spirits will hunt you. The Spirits will end you.”

“Positively aligned ones perhaps,” she said. Glancing over, she saw the Oni’s grin grow wider. Legends say Oni are a type of demon, don’t they? Maybe that's why she helped.

“Is that…” Rebecca said, pausing as she saw Isabella and the Oni’s exchange. “Did you two have this planned out?”

“Oi, yous accusin’ me of cheatin’?” The Oni said. “Take care if yous do. Them’s fightin’ words.” The dark Spirit smiled again, looming over the Golden Girl.

Rebecca grit her teeth and turned back towards Isabella.

“Don’t do this, you stupid bitch!” She shouted. “You have no idea how much this will blow up in your face if you—”

“I know,” Isabella said with deceptive calm. “And it's Queen Bitch to you.”

To say this put her in a bad spot with Spirits was an understatement. Not to mention the unthinkable horror of enslaving a sapient creature like this. But somewhere along the way, she’d stopped caring. Maybe her willingness to do this was why she had an affinity with Oni? Maybe, deep down, she was a bad person.

“You insult us even more by claiming a royal position?” The Tiger said disdainfully, making Isabella roll her eyes. “A ruler does not lay down ultimatums. You are a tyrant!”

“Sure am,” Isabella said, walking along the edge of the circle, enjoying how the Tiger shifted to keep distance. Sadly, she couldn’t attack from outside the circle without breaking the power, so she had to be ready. Once she was inside, leaving would break the effect too.

“What…what kind of binding do you wish for, Magus?” The Tiger said cautiously, changing tune so fast it nearly gave Isabella whiplash. “Perhaps we can overlook certain…threats. Let us bargain. I can offer you—”

“Unconditional surrender,” she said. “You will give me what I want, as I want it, or you will die. There will be no bargaining, just…an ultimatum.”

She threw the Spirit’s words back at it, watching it hiss in frustration. If she was doing this, she was going all in. I won’t pretend to be a good guy if this is the path I walk. Fuck Spirits, fuck this city, fuck everything.

“You can’t be—that’s not—we, we should try,” the Tiger stammered out, yowling in fear as Isabella crossed the line and stepped into the circle.

“No more talking,” she said, leveling the Soul-infused spear. “Surrender or die.”

Then, the fight of her life began.

“Holy shit balls, fuck,” Millie whispered. That had gone…completely tits up.

“Cut the feed, Initiate. She’s beyond the point you can help now and you must know your limitations,” the Fortune-Teller commanded. “Whatever happens, happens, and I know you. If you continue to observe you won’t be able to hold yourself back. So, if you care about the others…”

“I get it,” Millie said, grinding her teeth.

She wanted to watch, but he was right. She would do something stupid, not to mention she’d be wasting time watching instead of learning. It was probably for the best anyway; not only had things hit the point of no return, but Millie had also used up all the ripples the Fortune-Teller had created setting up the situation. If she messed with Fate anymore the bug-bot would step in and make it worse.

So, she picked up the Talisman anchoring the scrying Spell and tore it up. The Lesser Crystal Ball went blank.

The servitor nodded in approval. “Now, what shall we study for the rest of this iteration?”

The rest? Millie nearly collapsed. She was so tired and this was only the first half of the fifth, and after that was done…she still had five more to go.

She suddenly understood why the Headmaster had been so put out about the Consultation. Time loops sucked.