Swamped

Am I a Wizard oh my god

Holy smokes!

Is the ether stuff dangerous on its own? Where does it come from? Have you heard about my father? Have you ever tried reading romance novels?

We gotta find Long...

It takes a moment for the big implication to sink in.

"I'm a wizard?" you ask, incredulously.

"You can call it that if you want. You've got the ability to manipulate ether. But I'm guessing you've got no practice with it."

"Well... no."

"Hang on. I'm thinking you may not be all that clear on what ether is. Am I right?"

"That's right. I don't really know anything about magic."

Dominique lets out a sigh.

"Well. I can monitor the transfer and give you a little lesson at the same time. You may want to sit down on the bed, though."

You do, and she starts explaining.

"It's hard to explain what ether is, exactly. Most people can't detect it, and most materials don't interact with it in noticeable ways. But there's tiny amounts of ether everywhere. Now, what a wizard usually does is gather up a bunch of it, and then uses that to power a spell. At least, that's what all the research I've read says; never actually seen it myself until you turned up."

Well, that just feels awkward.

"What's going on with your clothes, though, is that they're etherically charged. That is to say, you went and gathered up a whole bunch of ether around yourself, and your clothes are storing it. Now, you might be wondering how that's affecting your body... answer is, not much. That's because it doesn't take a lot of ether flow to knock yourself out, and once you're out, the ether generally stops flowing. Not only that, but the body has a tendency to push it out when you're unconscious. Don't know why, that's just how it works."

"So... the ether's not dangerous unless someone gathers it?"

"Pretty much. And after a spell gets cast, the ether slowly returns to the environment. But inanimate objects tend to stay charged for a long time. They used to take advantage of that to make flaming swords and the like. Called it 'enchantment', I think. But it's dangerous with these clothes, because there's no particular spell on them. Just raw ether flowing around, waiting for a will to shape it."

"But only a wizard's will works?"

She shrugs.

"Can't say I know why it works that way, but yeah, for most people, ether might as well not even exist. And like I said, I can sense it, but I can't really manipulate it directly. Gotta use special tools for that. I think that's about all I had to say... why don't you relax while the siphon finishes up. It should be about done soon."

You suppose you might as well leave her to it. But just before you lie down again, one last question comes to mind.

"I don't suppose you've heard of a Christopher Laikenne?"

She pauses for a moment before turning away.

"Can't say it rings a bell."

"He's my father. He wrote the book that I used when I... well, cast that spell, I suppose."

"And you had no idea he was a wizard?"

"I didn't know the book existed until yesterday. And I've realized there's a lot I don't really know about him."

"Well, I'm not the person to ask. Not about Christopher Laikenne, anyhow. But you really shouldn't be worrying about that sort of thing at the moment. Just get yourself some rest."

Well. Now she's gone and gotten you curious. But she seems to have gone back to work, so you doubt you'll get much out of pressing her any further.

Now what?

This bedsheet is pretty decorative. If you're a wizard Marshall, maybe you should have a robe?

Either that or it's time for a naked walk!

You try to lie down, but you can't help it. You feel too restless.

You start getting up, but Robert rushes over.

"Hold on, hold on. Your forehead's getting red. You really should lie down."

"I can't stay still, though," you mutter.

"That's the heat playing tricks on your head. Simone, er, I hate to be a bother, but could you fetch me..."

She chuckles and hands him a washcloth, which he promptly puts on your forehead. You feel a little better.

"Figured you'd ask for one."

"Thank you, Simone. Er, how are the other patients faring?"

"Rider's still resting, Long went to have a look at him. Pubert's condition is stable, long as they don't try to run off anywhere. Starling's symptoms are about where they were last time, but we still don't have all the medicine we need for a proper treatment."

"Can't believe I have to treat swamp sickness in the desert," Robert mutters. "Maybe I should order medicine for frostbite, just in case."

"You were going to talk with Max about possible substitutes for the swamp plants."

"Right, yes. Suppose I should get on that."

He wanders off.

Simone turns to you.

"Sorry about that. He's stretched thin today. We do have another medic, but she's with the expedition team right now. Is there anything you need?"

"I need to get up," you groan. Your legs are just refusing to stay put.

"Don't think that's a good idea. If anything, you look like you're getting warmer, even with the washcloth."

Wonderful.

"But if I can get you something, just let me know, okay?"

You can't think of anything at the moment, so you thank Simone for her trouble, then you just lie down and try to sleep.

It doesn't work very well. It's not even the heat, or the restless feeling in your legs; no, the more you try to sleep, the more you feel as though there's something nearby, something... important.

Is it your imagination playing tricks on you? Or is this somehow tied to your newfound magical awareness?

You glance over at Dominique. Maybe once she finishes what she's doing, you can ask her about this.

---

You're now Rivers, and you're not happy.

The grebling doctor gave you a quick checkup, said you seemed fine, and suggested you go see someone called Belle.

So you're sitting in the entrance to her tent while she does... something. She's acknowledged you, but she seems to just be looking through some papers rather than talking or doing anything useful.

You don't even know what this is all about. It seems like a big waste of time. The only reason you're not more upset is that there's nothing to do in this desert anyway.

So what in the hells are you supposed to do now?

Screw it. Better check on Starling.

You've had enough of this. Starling's sick, and if you're not doing anything, you might as well spend it with someone more interesting.

Just as you get up, though, the grebling calls out.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Got lost in my work. Why don't you sit a little closer, dear?"

Uggh. "Dear". She sounds too much like your mother.

You may as well get this over with. You wander over to her desk and sit down.

"I do apologize. There's been a lot going on around the camp lately. Aside from the usual issues, I've had to help the crew out with separation anxiety, paranoia, short tempers, fear of humans... It's kept me busy, so a lot of my paperwork has fallen behind. Now, what's been troubling you lately, dear?"

"Being stuck in your tent," you grumble.

"Well. I'll try to make this as quick as I can. But we'll be done faster if you cooperate."

"Heard that before. Mom and dad were always dragging me to frauds like you, trying to figure out what was wrong with me."

She stands up, surprisingly tall for a grebling, and looks you right in the eye.

"Young lady. We may have just met, but rest assured, I would never say anything so hurtful. Nothing is 'wrong' with you. I have no intention of trying to 'fix' you, either. My only concern is understanding the problems you face, so that I can help you cope. If you aren't ready to tell me everything, that's fine - but I'd like you to share whatever you feel able to, so we have a place to start."

You're rolling your eyes real hard here.

What do you say to her?

Let's start from the beginning. Father was a war hero, highly decorated, golden scarab, blue diamond, the works. Mother was a trillionaire baroness with heavy investments in textiles and copper. They adopted me from a peripatetic monk who refused to disclose my origins. Whenever I misbehaved I was sent to the copper mines.

...Is she buying any of this?

It's too damn quiet in this desert!

The swamp, the sickly muck pit that it was was FILLED with LIFE. There was never a second that you couldn't hear a cacophony of buzzing or croakings...well except for the rain...This whole desert just...it just sounds like the rain. Empty and quiet, with only the wind in the background.

"Fine. So my father was a highly decorated soldier celebrated for his valor in, I dunno, some battle or other. My mother was a noblewoman who grew wealthy on, copper or something. They adopted me from, I dunno, a monastery deep in the woods, probably because of some prophecy or other, and they put me to work in the copper mines at age five because they thought I wasn't polite enough."

Belle just sits there, nodding. What the hell?

"It sounds to me like you have severe trust issues. I don't know what your parents actually did, but I doubt it was anything good."

"That sounds like a fancy way of calling me a liar."

Belle shakes her head.

"You're not really trying to deceive me. You just don't want to let me in on what you really think. And I can't force you to, even if it would make my job easier."

She's really getting on your nerves now.

"But, listen. I don't have to hear about your past, or your family life, or anything you don't want to tell me. I just want to help you. Just tell me about something that's actually bothering you, right now."

You're sorely tempted to say "you are".

But... she isn't, really. Yeah, you've been through this kind of nonsense a dozen times, but she's the first one who hasn't actually gotten mad at you.

"It's too quiet," you settle on. "The swamp, well, it smelled awful and all, but it was lively. There was always just this quiet chirping or croaking or buzzing or something making noise. Sometimes it was far away, but if I focused hard enough, I could hear it wherever I was in the fortress. And whenever I did, I might not be happy, but I felt like I was alive, at least."

You frown.

"Except during the rain. I could still hear noise, but... it was different. Unwelcoming. Nearly drove me mad the first time. Now this whole stupid desert sounds like that."

Belle takes notes furiously as you talk. Ugh. You feel kind of stupid now. How's that even going to help?

"And how did you usually cope with the rain?" she asks.

"Talking to Starling," you mutter under your breath.

"Pardon?"

Ugh. You'd rather not talk about Starling right now. It's her fault you're in this mess, for one thing.

Maybe you can just answer by explaining what you did before you and Starling met. At the least, that might get her off the subject.

Intense exercise and combat training. You pushed yourself too far, though.

You were very good at getting kicked off squads

"At first I used it as extra training time. Wasn't anything else to do. But I went overboard in sparring. Kept knocking out my partners. That's what got me kicked off my first squad."

"First squad? Out of how many?"

"Dunno. Eight? Nine? Some of them I was only on for a week. They tossed me on Corvus Squad about three years ago, apparently that's where they shoved all the troublemakers."

Belle nods.

"And how has that worked out for you?"

Hells, you've got a lot to say about that. Where do you even begin?

Corvus gave you a lot of freedom at first. Like he didn't care. Honestly it gave you a goal to try and get kicked off...funny how those plans backfired.

"Honestly? Corvus didn't do a damn thing at first. Didn't matter what anyone did, he just shrugged it off. We weren't getting any missions, either, so I got bored. After about a week of that, I started trying to get him to kick me off the squad, just to see what they'd do with me when they ran out of options."

"What sort of things did you do?" Belle asks.

"Mostly I picked fights with Legs. It was real easy to set him off. I think it bothered him we weren't doing anything - he wasn't just bored, he was upset. Thought he was missing out on chances to show how much his old squad had misunderstood him. The guy was full of himself, honestly. So I'd give him a good knock to the head whenever I got tired of his ranting, which happened about once a day or so."

"And Corvus didn't do anything about it?"

"Nah. Maybe the boss figured he had it coming, maybe he just didn't care about anything. Honestly, sometimes I forgot he was there. Anyhow, neither of us had done much fighting before this squad, but Legs had a little more practice than me, so the fights didn't usually go so great for me. Didn't stop me, though. I just plain didn't have anything better to do."

Belle writes some things down for a bit, just long enough to get on your nerves before she asks her next question.

"And how did you get on with the other squad members?"

Not well at all - you couldn't even stand Starling back then. But how should you explain that to her?

You ever meet anybody who's so different from you that you can't believe they exist? Like you think they must be faking it for kicks?

"Shorty kept trying to stop our fights. I always felt like he was trying to endear himself to the boss. So, y'know, that made it hard to get on well with him. Greeneye just seemed to be scared all the time. Sometimes I snapped at her when something really got to me, usually just ended with her in tears. Then there was Starling."

You need to pause for a moment to explain this.

"I couldn't stand Starling. She was just so damn cheerful all the time. I couldn't remember ever feeling like that, thought she must be faking it. Damned if I could've guessed why, but I really resented her."

You're not sure you want to keep going... but it's been a long time since you thought about this. You just can't keep quiet.

"One day, I'd just had enough, snapped at 'em all, even snapped at Corvus for not doing a damn thing, and do you know what she said to me? You know what she said?"

Belle just shakes her head, but you barely even notice.

"'What's wrong, Rivers?' And I just... I don't even know. I thought she was making fun of me. I couldn't help myself, just made a fist and was about to punch her right in the face..."

Gods, you'd nearly forgotten this part.

"And then, for the first time in weeks, Corvus does something. Out of nowhere, he gets up, jumps in front of my fist, and takes it right on the chin. Doesn't say anything afterwards, just gives me a glare. And then! And then, as if nothing had happened, Starling says 'it's okay, you don't have to talk about it if you're not ready', and I just feel lost. Confused. Like I don't know how the world works any more."

Belle offers you a handkerchief, and that's when you realize you've started crying. The hell's the last time you cried, even?

When you calm down, Belle speaks for the first time in a while.

"And what happened after that?"

You realized you'd spent so long wrapped in your own bitterness that your world and the one out there were no longer in alignment. That bothered you. You always looked down on people like that, and suddenly, you were one of them--no better than your miserable, drunken brother...

It was a sobering revelation, but it gave you direction.

"It was an eye-opener. My brother was a worthless drunk, and he kept dragging me to the bar where I met more of his ilk. Short-tempered, desperate, out of touch with the world... and in that moment, I realized that was me, only I couldn't use alcohol as an excuse."

You look down at the ground. Gods, this is hard.

"So I just said to her, 'I'm sorry' and then I ran off to my quarters. Couldn't face what I'd done. She stopped by a couple hours later to see if I was okay. Told her I was, even though I wasn't. I don't think she believed me, but she stayed anyhow. I wasn't saying anything, so she started just talking about animals. I think she was just trying to fill the air."

"And did that help?"

You shrug.

"Maybe it did. Maybe it just kept me from going all the way over the edge again. Don't know, don't even care at this point. Are we done yet?"

"If you don't have anything else to say, then yes. You've told me quite a bit already."

Shit, you really did say a lot. You didn't even really notice until now.

"The hell did I tell you all that for?" you say, startled.

"Well, if I were to guess, I'd say that it's been weighing you down for a while and, without realizing it, you wanted someone to talk to," Belle says. "I'll leave it up to you if you want to keep going."

You're pretty sure you don't. You're still sorting through your feelings right now, and even if you did keep talking you don't know what you'd move on to.

On the other hand, you really can't think of anything else to do right now except pay Starling a visit. And this whole session has left you such a mess that you're not sure if you're up to that.

What should you do?

Reliving this, it's like you want to apologize to Starling all over again...but you know better, you know she's comfortable with you. She accepts you, and you're grateful for that. No one else has accepted you like she has...

...no, that's not right...Corvus in his own way but also...dammit you do not want to talk with Marshall. Just being around him makes you feel like a shitty person.

Dammit.

Ugh. You feel like you were back in that moment. You almost want to apologize to Starling again.

But what good would that do? She's probably forgotten the whole mess by now. Even if she hasn't, every day she's been clear enough about forgiving you.

Even if she still won't tell you what the hell she needs to talk to the boss about.

Ugh. The boss. You'd forgotten until now what he'd done, that he'd kept you from making a huge mistake. Probably because all the boneheaded things he's done since then were fresher in your mind.

And then there's Marshall, who you've just been trying your damnedest not to think about. Marshall may not have actually been involved in any of the messes your old life gave you, but you really don't appreciate seeing a living, breathing reminder of those unpleasant times.

You feel just terrible. Why'd this stupid little grebling lady have to get your thoughts going like this? You weren't thinking about any of this twenty minutes ago... well, no, you were, you just didn't want to deal with those thoughts.

And you're not ready to talk about any of this. You just sit in the chair, stewing silently. Belle doesn't try to interrupt; somehow that makes it all the more infuriating.

Finally, you've had enough.

"It's too damn quiet in here!" you snap suddenly.

"Well! I may just know how we can give you something to listen to," Belle says. "I'll just need to see how busy Yvonne is. You can come with me if you like, or you can wait here until we're ready."

"Might as well tag along, got nothing else to do," you grumble.

---

You're now Yvonne, and though you just got back to camp a little while ago, you're already quite busy.

What demands your attention right at the moment?

Simone has gone missing and you're trying to track her down, which involves talking to those who saw her last.

The only problem is the last one to see her was a sandy-mocker, an annoying crow-like bird with a penchant for making grebling sounds.

You've lost track of Simone. You're particularly annoyed by this, as you only got to spend a few minutes with her and you had to focus on work for all of them.

You're also more than a little worried, especially considering where you ended up when you went missing. Albert says the compass hasn't reacted since you gave it to him for monitoring, so she should still be nearby... but the desert has plenty of dangers of its own.

What you know right now is that after you sent her to check on Marshall, she went to feed the sandy-mocker. That's the last anyone saw of her, so you're stuck trying to interrogate a bird.

"We've been over this, Theo! My piano is not a source of spare parts!"

Unfortunately, while the sandy-mocker can repeat grebling language, it doesn't seem to have any preference for repeating recent conversations. You've been stuck listening to arguments going back six years - it seems this particular bird has a fondness for them.

So what are you supposed to do now?

Maybe you can get it onto the right track if you say something that sounds like Simone. What's that phrase she always says?