“Sacred fucking skies, it’s her.”

Ceyda stirred idly. She recognized that voice, with its gravelly undertones and quiet tone. Her first instinct was to bound forward and yell “Danette! Hello! It is me! Do you have my glasses?”

Instead of doing any of that, she remained still, hoping to give off the illusion of someone still in a deep sleep. Her back and neck were sore, and as she shifted position, a pain shot up her spine, and she winced.

“She wants to know if you could bring her her glasses,” Merlin muttered.

“Of course. Of course she does! Why--why in the crown is this happening?” Danette sputtered. “Why her?”

“You know why,” Merlin replied.

Danette sighed, and her voice started to bounce from wall to wall, she was most likely pacing frantically.

“Gotta--gotta confirm with Opal that that’s her and then what? We question her?”

“Opal wants to kill her.”

There was a silence. Shuffling feet and a slamming door--they had left.

Ceyda yawned, sat up, and cracked her neck in annoyance. Mattresses were evidently a blessing she had taken for granted all this time.

“Doc?” Ceyda asked.

Are you all right, Ceyda?

“Yes, of course I am. Can I cast another spell?”

What do you want to cast?

“The same spell as last time,” Ceyda said. “Where I expand my senses.”

Oh. you don’t need my permission every time you cast a spell. You can just. Cast it.

“I don’t remember the invocation,” Ceyda replied.

It doesn’t need to be exactly what I said, that was more of--a framework? You can make your own. Just state what you want. Invoking Dorskina is helpful early on as you get the hang of it.

“Dorskina!” Ceyda projected. “Senses!”

And just like that, the basement was rendered in crystal clear quality, just as it had been last night. While no light poured in, she could feel the warm sun beating down from the outdoors, and the wisps of light caught in her range illuminated the shadows of the dark room.

Ceyda stood up, with the intention to walk to the door again. She placed her foot down and felt instant reverberations through her entire body, as if it were in an earthquake.

“D--d--damnation!” Ceyda stuttered, only for the word to echo in her ear as if it had been screamed mere inches away. Even her neck vibrated with displeasure.

She lay on the musty stone floor, staring at a the rusted, mounted meat hook on the wall, not sure what to do. Just as she was convinced the spell would last forever and she’d be stuck overwhelmed until she died from the humiliation of being a terrible mage, the magical effect vanished, leaving Ceyda in complete silence.

“Why didn’t you warn me that would happen?” Ceyda asked.

I have never seen anything like that happen in my life. Well, not that I have a life. I’ve not seen anything like that in my very short memory and very extensive knowledge of magic. There we go.

Ceyda frowned. “Does this mean if I learn how to shoot fireballs out of my hands I could risk burning myself alive?”

So, first of all, how exactly do you intend to learn to shoot fireballs?

“Magic, Doc! That’s what magic is!”

...is it?

Ceyda groaned and clasped her hands to her head. “Surely if our armies use it, there is some manner of offensive spells, yes? Fire is offensive!”

Why does your mind go to fire? And why fire? Are there people training to attack others with fire? Or are you talking about Thelloya?

“Yes! I’m talking about Thelloya!” Ceyda said, not having a single idea who Thelloya was.

Well then you’ll need to cut something off so--

“What?!” Ceyda spat out.

What else did you expect when--you don’t know who Thelloya is, do you?

“No!”

Or any avatar I’ve mentioned up to this point.

“I do not know what an avatar is, Doc!” Ceyda repeated.

You know what that was legitimately shitty of me, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be expecting you to know what magic can or cannot do, just in the same way you can’t be expecting me to know what your culture is, and you’ve been very patient with explaining.

Ceyda beamed. “Thank you!”

Do you want me to explain it now?

Ceyda paused and started to sneak up the stairs. “In a moment--Dorskina! Senses!”

This time she was able to see past the door, only to find an empty building. The door was barricaded with chains and several piles of wood, most likely to keep her in. Through the window she could see Danette, locking the outside door, and draping fabric over the windows.

The spell broke.

“What? They’re leaving!” Ceyda pouted. “Are they to leave me here to starve to death?”

They’re probably leaving to plan since Merlin knows you can spy on them.

Ceyda’s eyes widened. She had never thought that being honest would damn her efforts in the future! What an utter betrayal!

She slunk back to the floor, and lay down, spread out, in dismal defeat. Ceyda lifted her chin, caught vision of the bucket she was expected to relieve herself in, and dropped her head down again in a horrified sob.

“Doc, are there any spells that involve me never having to eat or relieve myself again?”

That would be Thelloya, who we talked about before. The Avatar of Death.

“So I’d need to cut a hand or a foot off?” Ceyda asked miserably.

Uh, well Thelloya usually requires active and constant experimentation. The common method when I was growing up was

The book stopped writing. Ceyda stared at it expectantly.

Well, apparently I grew up at some point! Great to learn. This is wonderful. Truly. Anyway, as I meant to say, the common method to getting into Thelloya’s graces when I was… apparently a human child, was to cut off your ring finger, and offer it up as a token of your devotion.

“Gross,” Ceyda moaned. “Incredibly gross.”

Yes. I never had particular desire to worship Thelloya. Those who were devoted were a passionate lot. And often, you had to be.

“What about this current person’s name I’m invoking? Dorskina?” Ceyda asked.

Dorskina, the Avatar of Power, only requires invocations and practice. She’s a lot more simple. Most teenagers start off learning her spells before branching out. She’s who you call if you want to hear better, like you did, or punch harder, or empower a spell you have, in general expand the capacities of yourself.

“Right. Okay. Sure. So. Question. What are the avatars?” Ceyda asked.

Hoo boy, all right. This is. Going to be a lot. You ready for this?

Ceyda nodded, as she flipped the book over so it could see her face.

So what year is it, exactly?

“824 KE,” Ceyda answered.

...that’s it? Doc vibrated in confusion.

“Well, what year do you know about?”

I have information that dates up to 24-30.

Ceyda squinted. “Is there a hyphen in that year or are you saying the years twenty four through thirty?”

You know! Like, 23-500! 12-95! That sort of dating system.

“I am going to keep blinking at you until you explain what that means,” Ceyda said, blinking as quickly as she could.

All right. History lesson. Since the beginning of recorded history, on this stupid planet, we have cycled through eras. We spend a thousand years existing as we do now. No avatars, no higher powers, just our own agendas. Then, at the end of that millennia, the avatars descend, and live amongst us for one hundred years. The dating system is supposed to reflect that. Odd numbers are the millennia we spend without the avatars, evens are the century with them.

So, as an example, 23-200 and 25-300, have a twelve hundred year difference between them, following me so far?

“...yes, but I should let you know, this sounds absolutely bonkers,” Ceyda replied.

Right, well, considering the year date you gave me, I’m assuming we’re in the middle of a millennia with no avatars, and someone got very… protective. Of information.

“Alternatively, your information is outdated and the avatars died long ago. Or you’re just wrong,” Ceyda suggested.

That is a horrifying possibility, yes.

“All right, so, as far as you know, literal beings descend from the skies and hang out for a century, what does that have to do with me learning spells?” Ceyda asked.

Well, the avatars, who would come down, would explain and teach their magical spheres. So, Dorskina, avatar of power, gifted us with the sphere of strength. Even our magical abilities are gifted to us at age fourteen specifically by Dorskina.

“Only mages get magic at fourteen,” Ceyda said. “The rest of us don’t have the right cores for it. So I don’t think that’s true anymore.”

I know. And it deeply horrifies me. You might be right. I could just be a relic of an age that has long since died. It could have been thousands of years ago, and I’d really have no way of finding out.

“How many avatars are there, anyway?”

So, according to my knowledge, I learned of ten. Ten avatars. But I also know I learned there used to be more, but some were cast out when they disagreed. We were told a story of an avatar named Teractus, who battled Waziria for dominance over the very concept of war. Teractus wanted to use the Sphere of Violence, whereas Waziria wanted to use the Sphere of Emotion, in order to encourage diplomacy. Waziria won, and has remained the Avatar of War ever since. Teractus is gone forever.

Ceyda nodded. She didn’t know if she was going to be able to keep track of all this information, but she was quite good with names.

You don’t need to know every detail of every avatar. So it’s all right if you forget most of the stuff I say, I just want to give you a broad idea of what each avatar can do. In turn, you’ll be able to figure out what I, a grimoire, am capable of doing.

“That would be good. I’d like to be able to stop asking stupid questions.”

As would I! Every time you ask me a question, I feel myself age ten years, and I’m just a book!

“A book named Doc,” Ceyda supplied.

Correct.

“Doctor Doc.”

Stop that.

Ceyda laughed and made her way back to the wooden pallet, and started to fumble through the box. She shook out the individual fabrics, trying to figure out which ones were clothing, and which ones were blankets. Finally, she gave up, and set to just tearing her dress away, since it had already received quite a beating. It was cold in the basement, but at least she’d be out of the outfit she’d slept in.

So, ten avatars. I’m gonna try and explain this as briefly as possible, but there’s a lot of religious meaning and symbolism for each ones. Colors, animals, and all sorts of other things. Can I assume you’re not interested in that?

“Not at the moment, admittedly.”

So, in brief-- Dorskina! Avatar of Power! Sphere of Strength! Baby’s first magical sphere. Good for just your run of the mill spells. She encourages practice and verbal invocations. One of the easiest spheres to learn, and by design.

Gretian! Avatar of Life! Sphere of Nature! So, remember how you wanted to create things, or be healed magically? Gretian covered almost all of that. Want to bake bread? Gretian. Want to build a house? Gretian. His sphere is incredibly vast, and was one of the most learned spheres, right below Dorskina’s. To learn his sphere you have to uh, well, actually learn how to do the activity.

So if you want to magically bake bread, you have to learn how to actually bake bread. This is why one of the easiest ways to heal people, is to actually become a literal doctor. And if you did want to be able to create furniture out of nothing, or almost nothing, you’d want to know how to build said furniture first.

“I never knew magic was so… pragmatic,” Ceyda said. “Everything I’ve heard about magic made it sound like it was for combat.”

Well, you seem to live in a horrifying hell world.

“It’s not that bad,” Ceyda protested.

Ceyda I don’t even want to get into the sheer amount of horrifying things I’ve heard implied since I’ve been conscious. Trust me on this, it’s bad. You’re in a bad place. This whole situation is baaaad. And I’m saying that as someone who might have lived a thousand years ago or something.

Ceyda grumbled, but didn’t say anything else.

Thelloya. Avatar of Death. Offers the Alteration Sphere. This is where you get stuff like shapeshifting, and any sort of self alteration you can think of. It’s a bunch of nasty situations and I absolutely do not condone it. I am sure Thelloya is a wonderful avatar but their sphere is dangerous. Deadly dangerous.

Haidolah. Avatar of Instinct. Offers the Control Sphere. This is probably what everyone’s using if they’re fighting. Lots of ways to use your body as a living weapon. To learn it, you have to induce yourself into an uncontrollable state. Give it up to get it, so to speak. Lots of people I know did it with forced blood loss. It’s also a very risky sphere, if you don’t know what you’re doing.

Yore. Avatar of Protection. Offers the Oath Sphere. This one is incredibly difficult to learn. But it’s very flexible. You make promises with people, and create a spell through that. You can create all sorts of ironclad contracts with it. I don’t have the information of how I’d even help you activate any spells in this sphere. Do any of these spheres interest you so far?

“To be honest, no,” Ceyda said. “All three of those spheres seem terrifying. What if I misspoke and promised something I didn’t intend to? Would I die?”

Possibly.

“Are there any ones that aren’t boring or aren’t absurdly dramatic?”

Gretian and Dorskina aren’t… that boring. You know what! Screw you! This is magic we’re talking about! Something you can’t even cast! You should have wonder pouring out of your ass with every word I’m saying! Writing? Argh! I hate being a book. Doc the book vibrated in annoyance.

We’re halfway done anyway. So, there’s also Waziria, I mentioned that one before. Avatar of War, and has gifted us with the Emotions Sphere. You can gain complete control of your emotions. And to learn it, well, you have to experience that emotion in its full form. A truly happy moment. A truly sad moment. It’s also a more linear experience. Those who take on Waziria’s path will often find that once they master a spell, a new one will immediately appear, and they must learn to master that one next. There is little flexibility, but it can be quite a useful sphere. Many doctors picked it up to stay stable during patient care.

Quasinonce. Avatar of Time. Sphere of Time. This avatar I’m pretty sure is just the oldest one of the bunch. No messing around, nothing. They’re here to represent time, and teach us how it works. Those who wish to learn resurrection will follow Quasinonce.

“So resurrection is real? That’s something people can just do?” Ceyda asked incredulously.

Yes. But it’s not a perfect system. Most people still sport scars or long term injuries from whatever hurt them. And it’s not… actual healing? It’s more of turning back the time in minute detail. So if you’re sick, you’re just going to die again. And the body can only take so much stress. Maybe the first time you’re beheaded, we can bring you back, but the second time? Third time? Fourth time? After a certain point, you’re not coming back.

Additionally, Quasinonce’s sphere is incredibly difficult. I know I’ve been saying that for a lot of them, and it’s true. Tens of thousands of people learned Dorskina’s and Gretian’s spheres. Hundreds of thousands, even. But often the people who learn other spheres beyond maybe an initial spell or two don’t really surpass a few hundred. So resurrection is real, and you’re very unlikely to encounter it in your life time for anything that matters.

If you do learn it, you’d need to disassociate. Most people use drugs. It’s not always the most healthy dynamic, between a caster and Quasinonce.

Ceyda found something dress shaped, and started to shuffle it over her body, in hopes of it working as a new outfit. She quickly found herself stuck when she misjudged which hole was the head hole.

Zebidiah! Avatar of Insanity! Gives us the Sphere of Space. This is where your teleportation was. Most of his sphere is literally impossible to learn! Why? I dunno. If the avatar’s still alive, you can ask them! They are kind of a wonky fuck. The first handful of spells in the Space Sphere are relatively simple to learn. You just have to study, a lot. Two years worth of studying, was the rule of thumb, per spell. But most never breach past those base levels. Because you go insane. Because Zebidiah is just like that.

Ceyda readjusted and found herself in something she hoped was a dress. It was very tight around the shoulders, but this wasn’t the first time she had found herself a bit too broad in the front for an outfit. She laid out a blanket and sat in it, waiting for Doc to finish. By her math, there were only two left. And so far, while it all seemed like very powerful forces she could wield, nothing actually struck her as practical.

She couldn’t spend two years learning how to teleport solely to get out of here. And learning time magic! Where was she going to get drugs? She could try and dissociate the old fashioned way, but that was hard.

Esterath is our penultimate avatar. Avatar of Secrets. And our gift from them is the Dream Sphere. Esterath is the one I think you’ll like the best, to be honest. Many do. The sphere lets you travel in your dreams.

Ceyda’s ears perked up. That was interesting. And oddly relevant.

“What do you mean?”

Well, when I was human… or at least when I think I was human, we had two worlds. The real world, and the dream world, and they existed interchangeably. Almost everyone would work all day, and then go to sleep, and party in the dreamscape. You could travel into other people’s dreams, create your own dream, or travel the world, projected from your own body. Some buildings were only active and alive in the dreamscape.

“No!” Ceyda said loudly.

Are you disagreeing with me?

“No it’s just--that sounds so cool! Are you saying we could have been living in our dreams this entire time?”

Huh, yeah, you’re right. None of you have ever been to a dreamscape, have you? That’s incredibly depressing.

Ceyda lay on the ground, the thin blanket providing marginal comfort. “I want to visit my dreams! How do I learn that one?”

Well, it’s a hypothetically really easy one to learn… but maybe not in your situation. Esterath made it so that to learn their spells, you needed to learn them from someone else. If you were in unforged territory, you had to dive deep into your own dreams to discover it. But many Esterath spells have been laid out and clearly understood for millennia upon millennia. But… if no one here knows about magic…

“Aaargh! That’s stupid!” Ceyda yelled. No shock. “That’s really stupid!”

She yelled even louder.

Her words echoed off the basement.

I don’t know if myself knowing it will help. Hopefully it will. Otherwise, you might be unable to access it at all. Hypothetically forever.

“The avatars are stupid. Some gods they are. Couldn’t they have predicted this situation?”

Funny you should ask that. The last Avatar, Karani, of Sight, does in fact have that job. She is unfortunately not relevant to you. To use her sphere, also named the Sight Sphere, you need to be chosen directly, or have a genetic lineage.

Ceyda sighed. “All right. So I can cross her off my list of anything useful. I guess I have... Dorskina, the one who can make me punch better, Gretian, for making my damn gardening better or whatever, and Waziria. For the emotions.”

Those are probably your safest bet.

Ceyda stared at the ceiling and frowned. “Hey, Doc?”

Yes?

“Is there any sort of magic that could… force you to tell the truth? Make it so you can’t see people? Or paralyze people?”

Well, there is some overlap with spheres, but that sounds straight up Haidolah’s alley, with the Control sphere. Powerful casters can control other people, force them to do their bidding. Some even can approximate Yore’s own sphere, and create blood oaths. Yore heavily dislikes this aspect of Haidolah.

“And what about my bracelet? Where would something like that come from? It is magic, right?”

I would assume it is a devotee to Gretian, using Dorskina’s to amplify it. The bracelet maker calls on Gretian to imbue it with magical powers, and then asks for Dorskina for strengthening. Although I’ll admit, I am entirely guessing here. I’ve never seen anything like that bracelet before. I have no knowledge on it, zilch. Maybe it’s a new avatar. Maybe it’s just some new application of Haidolah’s control sphere, or maybe even Waziria’s emotions sphere, that I don’t know about. I just do not know concretely.

“Well, that’s problematic,” Ceyda muttered. “I appreciate everything you told me, really, I do, but how do I know if any of it is true?”

...you don’t. I don’t either. And the more I talk. Or write. The more worried I get about it. My information about Dorskina accurately let you cast that spell. So that at least was true. If only you could access Esterath’s domain! To be able to talk to other people who can use magic would be incredibly important.

“Every mage out there is probably going to either want me dead, or want to take you away from me, Doc. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ceyda replied.

Surely not every person, right? There are other countries, yes? Perhaps you could seek asylum with one of them!

“What do you mean?”

Well, if we can find out who hates where you live, we could possibly explain our case and gain asylum. A sort of political protection. It would be risky, but potentially worth it, depending on the state of the world.

Ceyda didn’t know how to reply to that question. She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a while, contemplating the best way to explain why Doc was so grievously wrong.

“There are no other countries.”

What do you mean?

“Kesterline has ruled the world for the past hundred and fifty years or so. The other nations were weak in core, and hindered those around them from living harmoniously, so all that’s left is here,” Ceyda said.

Oh.

“Sorry,” Ceyda apologized. “It sounds like it would have been a really good plan otherwise.”

Wait, did you say you lived in Kesterline?

Ceyda looked at the book in cautious excitement. “You know about it?”

Yeah, I mean--I think I did? Sort of. Kesterline was, to my knowledge, established in the late 23rd era. It was a big deal in the 24th era, when the avatars descended. They called it the nation of the future, and blessed it as the one true nation. Or something like that. It was a lot of pomp and circumstance. But I remember that. I remember Kesterline being this infant nation,barely enough land to host its own city, let alone the entire world.

“That’s… weird,” Ceyda muttered.

Yeah. But if I do remember them, maybe this isn’t some far flung future. It could be recent, right? It’s possible that in two hundred years or so, the avatars will return, and Kesterline will be in incredibly hot water.”

“Yes. Two hundred years from now,” Ceyda said sourly. “Is there a spell that makes you immortal or long lived?”

No. But I know many Thelloyan worshippers have tried. The alteration sphere can lead to a longer life, but nothing at that caliber.

“What’s. The point,” Ceyda said, mimicking Merlin’s softer voice. “Of an all powerful magical book. If it can’t even do anything?”

With her complaint fully vented, she returned to gnawing at the bread. Her stomach was still sorely empty, and she had a lot of information to mull over.

Maybe if she thought about it a dozen more times, a solution would be made clear.