The Primarch Keeps Breaking Things

People kept robbing the magic shops, so they just stopped selling because it ain't worth it no more.

Runesrot flared up a couple years back in some eccentric's basement of hoarded curiosities, and the soil for miles around is now chock full of its dormant spores.

No merchant would be foolhardy enough to trade in magical components here, unless for some reason they want the bulk of their stock broken down into coiling dust.

> Magical items tend to go wrong. Catastrophically.

they don't sell them because they're given away for free, you just have to go wait in the breadline

Magic and magic-related items are heavily regulated, and only given out to government officials. It turns out that governments aren't a fan of people being able to enter their country without its knowledge. The already existing transportation industries weren't too keen on going bankrupt either.

There have also been several indecents in the past involving scrying and glamours. Further, you can kill people with magic. It's just not worth allowing the public to use it.

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seriously though knowledge and transportation magic is op, and would be super difficult for governments to deal with.

>They don't sell magic 'round these parts because people keep doing crazy, ridiculous things with them. Remember that one time when it rained sauerkraut for a solid month? Dark times.

Well, really, it's just because of the law. Magic USED to be considered exceptionally dangerous and "evil," and even though the public eye has changed (especially in light of other regions) the law persists.

It's underground now.

SpoilerShow

- Runesrot flared up a couple years back in some eccentric's basement of hoarded curiosities, and the soil for miles around is now chock full of its dormant spores.

- Magic and magic-related items are heavily regulated, and only given out to government officials. [...] It's just not worth allowing the public to use it.

- Well, really, it's just because of the law. [...] It's mostly underground now.

"...they've got rules about who can run around with magical goods. Oh, but don't worry 'bout not knowing. Many tourists don't."

You can tell by her tone that she wants to elaborate. Good. Better she exposits by herself than you press her for information that you should already know.

"Do tell."

She drains her water glass and launches into it.

"OK! Well. For starters, the only people you'll see toting magical equipment work for the government. It's illegal for us layfolk. I'm not just talking weapons, here: A one-night glamour's as likely to get you arrested as an enchanted pistol."

Chris mutters 'dammit' around a slice of egg. The doe continues.

"Weapons and curses have been regulated for pretty much ever. Over time, though, more and more magical goods have become 'license mandatory'. Glamours and scrying equipment joined the pile some fifty years ago. Shortly after, talismans and crystals. As of lately, you need permits for certain familiars, and anything what can be used as an off-the-shelf focus."

"Sounds awful," Chris grumbles, and you know he means 'awful for me'. Miss Elana's wand must be weighing on him. "To a foreigner, anyway. I'm sure you guys are cool with the no-magic-ever law."

"I never said that." Her eyebrows raise. "You've seen the wards around the fountain in Town Square, right? That's magic. The light shows coming on tonight, and the safety measures in the Maze? Also magic. Every time someone gets into a festival barfight, it's licensed healing mages that patch 'em up. Erylites aren't anti-magic. We're just careful how we use it."

"OK, sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean to be, um, culturally insensitive."

"No harm meant, no harm done." Her bells tinkle when she smiles. You're lucky she's so forgiving. "I didn't realise you guys were from so far away."

You shoot Chris a meaningful look. The longer this conversation lasts, the less justifiable your quirks become. Hush.

"We appreciate your orienting us," you say. "I suppose this means private magical goods vendors are..."

"Criminals, yeah. I wouldn't go poking around the underground. Even if you like being on the wrong side of the law, the whole township's got Runesrot thanks to the last fool who tried hiding magic in their basement."

"Aha. Yet the city's wards and such are immune?" You manage to sound more curious than sceptical. "How fortunate."

"I know, right? Government-grade spells and equipment must be made of, like, sterner stuff. Who knows?"

The doe pauses to consult her watch. Then, against your best wishes:

"I've got about an hour before I need to check in with the Maze folk. I wanted to ask, where exactly are you guys from? We get a lot of foreigners for the tournaments, and I can recognise most accents, but yours have been puzzling me all morning, Bartholomew."

'Why me?' you think. Chris sounds just as odd. By her fluttering lashes and coy smile, though, you suspect she finds your tight consonants... appealing.

How embarrassing.

- - - -

Looks like doe-Elana's on to you. How will you handle her question? Or maybe something will happen to save you the awkwardsauce?

>_

> Chris brings out an actual deck of cards labelled with different magical artefacts. He wasn't even lying.

Awkwardsauce is actually a local delicacy and the waiter is happy to save it for you.

She views you favorably which means she is more likely to believe a lie...if it weren't for the fact that your species are terrible liars. She's likely picked up that not everything about you is as you've said.

If only you had someone here who had a penchant for self-interested deceptions.

> "I should let Chris here explain." (Gosh I hope he was paying attention.)

>Just say you are not comfortable with sharing, she would understand!

>Something does happen to save you! At first. Then it just makes the awkwardness worse.

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> Your species are terrible liars. She's likely picked up that not everything about you is as you've said.

> Just say you're not comfortable with sharing.

> Chris brings out an actual deck of cards labelled with magical artifacts. He wasn't even lying.

You hesitate, and the split-second silence is enough cause for a sceptical hum. Living up to a stereotype pains you, but Cervo are terrible liars, and you the worst among them.

"Will you begrudge me if I say I want to preserve my mystique?"

You quirk a half-smile. You're not often playful these days; hopefully this approach doesn't hurt your act.

Elana's little smirk suggests it did.

"I'll let you get away it 'cause you're charming," she says, and Chris' startled disbelief mirrors your reaction. Elana has curious tastes. You're not--she's too generous--you're soft-spoken, that's all--there's literally nothing 'charming' about you--

"Aw, Elana. Barth's shy around pretty ladies. You're killing him."

Chris' interjection spares you from an awkward silence. You throw him a grateful glance, but he's preoccupied with fishing through his pockets. You hope whatever he's searching for isn't too large. Wouldn't want the authorities confiscating his trousers for their 'Bag of Holding' properties.

"Want to see some of my cards? Truth is, he's accompanying me to a players' meetup with some friends I made on the 'nex. It's kinda nerdy, but whatever."

"You're that into it, huh? Didn't think you had them on hand," says Elana. She chuckles. "Sure. Why not?"

"I obviously don't have a Render's Egg." Chris flips open his card case. Well, then. You could've sworn he made that all up. "I can show you some of the rarer-than-average parts of my deck..."

- - - -

Cut to the Fourth Ring, the Primarch's palace. You're sister-Elana, and fifteen minutes Interdimentional Standard Time have passed without word from your twin brother.

This is bad. This is very bad, indeed.

"Come on," you mutter, swiping out message after urgent message. "Pick up, pick up, pick up!"

What on Mom's green earths has him so preoccupied? You wonder if someone swiped his comm and responded as a prank. That story about succubi and wyverns is too bizarre, even for Aedan.

You check the clock on the nightstand and chew your lip. They'll be here in an hour, maybe less. And you need your old wand back, pronto.

- - - -

Everyone's in trouble today, aren't they? What's so special about your old wand, and who needs to borrow it so badly?

>_

>Magic Mafia after you?

> Apparently it's crazy valuable. The last owner is even willing to give a Render's Egg for it. Where they got it, you've no idea. Practice punching imaginary Aedan if he's off doing stupid stuff again.

>It was a gift, but the person who gave it to you apparently stole it. The original-original owner isn't happy.

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> It was a gift, but the person who gave it to you apparently stole it.

> Apparently it's crazy valuable. The last owner is even willing to give you a Render's Egg for it. Where they got it, you've no idea.

> Practice punching imaginary Aedan if he's off doing stupid stuff again.

You toss your comm on your bed and fall face-forward into silken sheets. Tantrums are unbecoming for a person of your status, but you can't help it -- you spend ten solid seconds yelling into your pillow and thrashing like an irate sea lion.

At least you feel better when you're done. Wailing on an imaginary Aedan cleared your mind some.

You review your messaging history and breathe out slow. Fine! Don't pick up. See how he feels when he returns from whatever pointless excursion to find a note saying, 'By the time you read this, I'm already dead, and it's most certainly all your fault.'

Hmm.

On further thought, perhaps that's a smidge excessive. You fish your comm from between your pillows and prepare one final round of annoyed messages.

• Aedan, for both our sakes, you better not be lying about the wyverns and succubi
  
• I'm so serious right now
  
• I need. That. Wand. ASAP.
  

• Trust me that it's like 23055346246436x more important than I thought
  
• Some very important people want it back
  
• It's on par with an honest to goodness Render's Egg, and I'm not talking about cards
  
• Aedan???
  
• Omgosh what's the point of having interdimensional comm service if you're going to leave it on silent all the time -_-;
  

You abandon the device to your nightstand, then smooth your clothes and hair at the dressing table. You curse when your comb hits a snag. Not because it hurts, but because--ugh--staring at your tense reflection, you realize that this debacle's essentially your fault.

Mama was right. You should've known better! Better than to let your clumsy twin borrow an expensive gift, and better than to accept something so expensive from an inadvisable source.

That's what they were, your ex-lover. 'Inadvisable'. Your stupid 'rebels are sexy' phase had you dating an actual, legitimate criminal for months, and you were none the wiser.

Your comm buzzes, jerking you from your reverie. You scramble to answer the call.

"Aedan?"

- - - - -

Ha, as if. Who's on the line? How do they greet you, if at all?

>_

>A mysterious voice. Whoever it is calls you now and then to dispense life advice. Sometimes financial advice too.

>It's a used car salesman and he's very confused, but he's still going to shout and talk at physically impossible high speeds just like they do in the radio commercials

> Lucian!?

Hi! Did you know if you switch to Planarco you could save money on your wand insurance?

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> Lucian!?

"Sadly not," comes the reply.

"Lucian!" Your eyes widen. Stifling the mental image of him lying naked amid a tangle of succubi, you say, "Where's Aedan? Is everyone alright?"

"Yes, Miss Elana, for better or worse. Aedan's presently preoccupied."

"Preoccu...! Where in the megaverse are you? I've been trying to reach you for half an hour!"

"The discrepancy between our timezones is larger than I thought," Lucian murmurs. The jumbled voices in the background nearly swallow his words. "Aedan sends his apologies. We've had an eventful morning."

Oh, they better have. Aedan owes you a wyvern-leather purse for every lie in your inbox.

"OK, OK. Whatever. You're here now, and that's wonderful." Breathe in, breathe out. You consult the clock on your nightstand. "Whatever Aedan's doing, it can wait. Come home."

"That may be difficult, Miss Elana." The gravity of his tone makes your insides knot. "Attempting chronospatial magic from where we are is, ah, inadvisable."

"Oh, yes? How so? Are you standing on top of a power plant?" You're not often sarcastic, but time's wasting. Your knuckles blanch as you grip the comm. "If it's not a matter of actual, legitimate life-or-death, I want you here now. I need that stupid wand back."

For a moment, you hear nothing but chatter and distant, clinking cutlery.

"Ah, yes. The wand."

"Please tell me you didn't lose the wand."

"Very well. We didn't."

"Oh, thank goodness. Don't scare me like that! It's--"

"Broken."

"What?"

"The wand's been obliterated from the handle up. Your brother sends his apologies."

The colour drains from your face.

"How'd you manage something like that? Aren't you supposed to be watching him?" You hurl the comm to your bed, where it lands with a 'fwump'. Your whole body follows. "That wand was stolen goods, Lucian. The real owner could show up any minute, and trust me that they won't be satisfied with 'my twin broke your priceless artifact'."

"That is troublesome." Lucian's voice skews towards the thoughtful side of neutral. "I imagine Mesdames Primarch haven't returned from the Six-Ring Conference?"

"Um, would I be flipping out if they had? I'm in trouble here!"

Frustrated, you drag your hands over your face from hairline to chin. Lucian makes a thoughtful sound.

"Aedan kept the news from you because he wants to repair the wand," he says. "Do you think it's worthwhile, or shall we return with the remains? I'm yours to command. However..."

"Ugh, of course there's a catch. However, what?"

"There may be repercussions for the locals on our end. Magic is outlawed here. One doubts the authorities will ignore a whirling rift in spacetime that would take several dozen mortals to create."

"Luciaaaaaan, I'm not in the mood for moral quandaries right now!"

Regardless, you need to do something.

>_

> Fine, I'll help open it from this side. That should make things easier for you. Fix that stupid wand and get back quickly!!!

>This is an emergency! Take whichever path leads to the swiftest most decisive outcome. Consequences be darned.

Your hesitance lasts for all of thirty seconds. Then:

"This is an emergency! I'll help open the portal from this side to soften the blow, but I've bigger concerns than a bunch of mana-phobic civs on someone else's planet."

"Actually," says Lucian, "this reality is under the Fourth Ring's jurisdiction."

"And actually, I don't care!" Look at you, all grown up and snappish, just like Mother. "Do whatever it takes to get that wand fixed and come home immediately, do you understand? I wouldn't make a fuss if it wasn't important!"

"Yes, Miss Elana."

"I'll stall for time as much as possible. Hang on to Aedan's comm and listen for my calls. If I need you back, you come back, no matter where in the megaverse you are."

"As you say, Miss Elana."

You take a deep, rattling breath, and let it out slow. Your eyelids flutter. OK. OK. Everything will be fine. Lucian's never let you down, has he?

"You may go." Before you hang up, you add, "Tell Aedan it's his fault if I'm butchered."

* * * *

You're Lucian again. When you return to the booth from your 'bathroom break', Chris and the doe are tying up their conversation.

"Oh! I wondered where you went." The doe tilts her head, curious, when you slide into your seat. "Are you feeling OK? You were gone for a li'l."

"I needed some fresh air, so I circled the block for a moment. Sorry to have worried you."

"Nah!" She grins and nudges your arm. "It's the Cervo blood in you. We weren't meant to sit around like this for such a long time — er, no offense, Chris."

"None taken."

Their banter is amusing and all, but more pressing things than card games require Chris' attention. You give the doe what should pass for an apologetic look.

"I'm loath to cut things short, but I just got a call from Chris' family. We need to be going."

"Aww, right away? I mean, I have to run in about 30 minutes myself. I was thinking of getting dessert for us all to share, first."

The doe's lashes flutter. She's a good person, you think, but you've no reason to indulge her now that you and Chris are oriented.

Well?

>_