CH 6.3: Botched Executions

“When will I learn magic?” I asked, after spending what felt like hours looking at targets in the dark. A series of overhead lights provided some illumination, but not the usual spectrum. We went through a series of exercises, using each one of the light sources. First was a red one, like from inside a stove’s heating element. Then there was a yellow glow that barely was recognizable. And finally, a purple glow. But even in the mostly dark room, I found I could still see shapes, and if I focused long enough, I could almost make out the colors of objects, though the colors changed drastically depending on the light type. I didn’t understand it, something about wavelengths and refractions, but in a nutshell, it was a weird bug version of Nighteye. Which might have sounded cool, but was actually boring, because everyone and their dad, and their second cousin, would choose Nighteye if they were reincarnated into some video game, which is what seemed to have happened to me.

Like I said, boring. I wanted magic. Spells. Fireballs and invisibility. A cool transformation spell to get rid of this weird chitin skin, attanae, and nasty ass face.

“Pardon?” Waz asked. Both Orb and Waz had stayed with me through the training.

“Magic?” Orb also asked, near the same time.

“Magic,” I said, pulling away from the practice and turning to my instructors.

“Already, Her Highness is bored,” Waz said. “After only ten minutes training.”

“Um, pretty sure it was hours,” I said. “But seriously. I’ll learn to see shit as I go. Show me how to cast magic. I want spells.”

“I...see…” Waz trailed off, glancing to Orb, before clapping, causing the lights to return to normal. His eyes were a bit wider, his mandible thing opened, his glance towards Orb turned to a stare as he motioned her to answer.

“If I may ask,” Orb finally said. “What causes Her Highness to believe she may cast spells over others? That is the racial of Blood Elves and Vampires. Or perhaps, you mean in a more grammatical sense?”

“Cast spells over others,” I repeated slowly, thinking out loud. “Like mind control? Is that a thing I could learn?” I asked.

“Unlikely,” Orb said, while Waz coughed. “I would never deign to limit Her Highness. But no.”

“Then why bring it up?” I asked. This conversation was getting confusing. And irritating. “Just show me the magic!”

“Perhaps it is a language barrier?” Waz asked, his antenna quivering. “If we knew what this magic was?”

I groaned. “You know, like liquid lightning and frost breath? Explosions? Arcane Missiles? Shooting lasers from my eyes? Summoning beautiful lizard girls from the Nether?”

Orb hummed. “This is much to parse through,” she said. “But I must ask, does Her Highness hope to change Paths to that of Projectiles or Wands? Both powerful in their own right indeed, though requiring much effort, and with several limitations.”

Ughhhhhhh. They kept talking about Paths. “Man I dunno….I just wanna do magic,” I said. “If I have to be stuck here anyways, then I might as well use this Affinity stuff to be cool...you know, to make up for looking this hideous,” I finished.

“Firstly, Her Highness is marvelous to behold,” Orb said. “Beautiful in all senses. But even if not, I fail to see how allowing one’s Affinity to flow through might change that.”

That was actually a really sweet thing for to say. As she loomed over me, I couldn’t help but feel my pulse quicken, and not from fear. Her lips twitched slightly. Waz broke the moment with a cough, reminding me that this was not a private moment at all.

“Look,” I said. “The Queen used her magic or Affinity or whatever to change how she looked into absolute beauty. I want the same...Also, what’s up with all this Path business? What’s that even mean?...Am I stuck with this dumb Walking Stick one?”

“Her Majesty IS absolutely marvelous in all regards,” Waz nearly shouted, before coughing and shying back, seemingly embarrassed for the outburst.

“Indeed,” Orb added. “And Her Majesty had Eternity to practice techniques and to walk countless Paths. Her Majesty’s capabilities should be an aspiration, but perhaps not an immediate and realistic expectation...Regarding Paths, this is a natural point to leave this training exercise for another...

“As noted, Path of a Walking Stick is perhaps not the most desirable first Path,” Orb continued as she led Waz and me both from the training room, back to the Barkway, where we turned downwards towards the roots.

“What is a Path?” I asked. “And what about Affinity? At least one’s good, right?” I asked. I’d already forgotten what my Affinity was called. Something Transformation. I wish there was a way to look it up. It seemed unfair to be required to remember shit.

“The Fey all have exceptional Affinity,” Orb answered. “And the Court above that.”

“Good,” I said, patting myself on the back for at least having one thing. “But if there’s no magic, then what good is Affinity?” I asked, assuming it had to be something awesome, though I started to have my doubts.

“Affinity is simply the channel through which Power affects the world. In past Seasons, it may have been called a Mana Flavor, though that epoch long since expired. A greater Affinity allows a greater effect of Power. An Affinity type is the prism through which Power flows…”

Alright, this was making sense. If my assumptions were correct, basically I was some uber mage that could only cast one type of spell. Just like a fire-mage used fire-mana, or some garbage like that.

“Then I just need to tap into this Power somehow?” I asked. “How’s that work?”

“By seizing control and wrestling it through your veins and into the world,” Waz answered this time, which prompted Orb to scoff.

“Typical male,” she said. “For nearly everyone, the process is...unique. Some rely on visualizations or meditation to enable channeling. However, with practice, one may find it easier to do, and may find their Path improved or altered.”

“Any pointers for first timers?” I asked. We were still walking down the Barkway, lower and lower, spiraling into the Heart-tree’s roots.

“This varies much, though many find success through meditating upon a single flame, or an unfolding flower…” Orb answered.

“Or the void,” Waz added.

“Indeed,” Orb said. “Now we are nearly there. Any further questions?” She asked.

“So many,” I answered, before rattling them off. “What about Paths? What’s the best one? How do they change? Evolve? How many are there? I need to know everything about them. For starters I guess, what does mine do...”

Orb chuckled, and kept walking, while answering the best she could. “No best Path exists--”

We entered an ovoid chamber below an arching root. The floor was covered with hard moss, and manicured shrubs lined the walls.

“--However,” Orb said, “I believe we can find a more suitable Path for Her Highness.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” Waz scoffed. “Besides, a traveling type Path may be just the thing needed for traveling beyond the Net.”

Orb paused for a moment, standing before a fountain with glowing blue fluid, almost neon bright, flowing down it. The fountain stood on a raised platform in the very center of the chamber. “Will Her Highness not be forced to endure the presence of the lowest races?” She asked. “And would this not require combat?” She arched an eyebrow, staring at Waz.

“Her Highness will have assistance,” Waz said. “Of this I am certain. Changing Paths is not immediate, nor trivial.”

“Which is why I have prepared for this occasion,” Orb said, before clapping her hands. “Bring forth the prisoner!” She called.

Two cow sized spiders dragged a pile of silken thread behind them, where a large wrapped bundle was attached to both. A wriggling bundle. As they approached, I saw enough through the tight wrappings binding the bundle that it was a monstrous looking man, or beetle, or beetle-man. His forehead held a large chitinous horn, his back covered in two ovoid plates, and he had four arms, two legs, each ending with black chitin. Faint green lines fissured all across the beetle-man’s body, almost like a glowing tattoo. A chord wrapped his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from moaning as the spiders came to a stop.

Waz buzzed, or hissed. It was hard to tell which exactly it was. I decided it was a hiss, with a buzz undertone. “What is this?” he said. “You do not have this authority…”

“This,” Orb said, waving at the wrapped beetle-man, “Is a proven traitor, caught tunneling towards our enemies, to smuggle their foul creations into our realm. His sentence is death.”

“I do not remember his sentencing,” Waz said. “There are processes to follow. Even if these accusations were true, this would not happen this way, in this manner.”

“This is Her will,” Orb said, handing me my cane. “If Her Highness wishes for a Combat Class, I would encourage her to execute this...traitor.”

The beetlekin moaned through the gag.