Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (24/?) WiP 1 (Patreon)

Hey everyone! Here's the Work in Progress for Chapter 24 I hope you guys enjoy! :D

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Living Room. Local Time: 1700 Hours.

Thacea

Perpetuity.

That was what the Nexus stood for, what it sought after, and what it fought for. In its quest to ensure the continuity of civilization, it had reasoned that all civilizations fell under its enlightened protection. Protection not from any outside power, nor any external existential threat, but from the dangers inherent within civilization itself.

Dynamicity.

That was what the Aetheronrealm had always embodied. A stark antithesis to the Nexus’ stringent beliefs and unwavering convictions. In more ways than one, my home realm had always been an outlier prior to the Nexian reformations, as it defied all known Nexian expectations on what an Adjacent Realm should have been. For instead of a series of disconnected fiefdoms trapped within a single continent, the Nexus discovered my kind spanning the breadth of our entire world. Instead of a disjointed and poorly connected peoples, they found a species united in a shared language, shared faith, and a deeply integrated culture.

Instead of another book for their anthology, they found a manuscript for a play yet unwritten.

A play which would remain unwritten, before being scrapped and rewritten to fit their anthology.

For we were an anomaly.

And we owed this anomalous state of affairs to our species’ natural gifts, and our inclinations for flight.

We owed it to our wings.

It was a mere, single, point of divergence. A single variable factor which entirely uprooted the Nexus’ prior assumptions and expectations.

So what then, could the Nexus expect from Earthrealm?

If our wings were enough to uproot millenia’s worth of historical, social, and cultural conventions… just how far was Earthrealm’s point of divergence going to take them?

Where would they fall in this sliding scale of Perpetuity and Dynamicity?

Better yet, could they even be classified at all?

Classification implied some level of conformity within an established system of preexisting conventions.

Conventions which simply could not be applied to Earthrealm and its denizens, for one, very, simple reason.

The nature of their point of divergence.

Their lack of a mana-field, and their mana-less home.

This alone was enough to upset the reality the Nexus had meticulously crafted. For it defied the one assumption which underpinned all other conventions: that life was only possible by virtue of a mana field. That sapience only came about as a result of the dynamic properties of mana. And that civilization was precipitated by the virtue of those few sapients with the gift and potential for mana-field manipulation.

For it was only through the study of mana and its implementation in the form of magic, that led to the birth of the complex constructs which allowed for the existence of advanced civilizations.

Earthrealm had defied these conventions from its very inception, being a mana-less world which inexplicably bore life. Life which eventually gave rise to a mana-less race of sapients. Sapients which, through exotic means yet unknown, managed to birth civilization. An exotic civilization with an unprecedented level of parity to the Nexus in complexity and resolve, but perhaps not in scale.

This point of divergence was an impossibility, born out of a slew of enigmatic circumstances.

Leading to an impossible civilization, with an unforeseen abundance of unconventional and exotic tools created with the express purpose of making up for their magical deficiencies.

Perhaps then, that was what the Nexus should expect from Earthrealm.

Not dynamicity.

And most certainly not perpetuity.

But impossibility.

“And so the dragon enters her den, to rekindle the fires of her flame.” Thalmin began, breaking my reverie as we both watched in silence as the tent-like structure jiggled and jostled around somewhat. Before finally, it fell silent.

Though, silent was a relative term in this case. As the beginnings of the Earthrealmer’s slumber was marked by that monstrous rumbling and a terrible shrill shriek that would’ve caused any acoustically inclined species to go deaf.

This terrible assault on the auditory senses was a direct consequence of the complex series of artifices required to sustain a mana-less environment, and by extension, a necessary burden to tolerate given the exotic predispositions of the Earthrealmer’s unconventional physiology.

I outstretched my talons, feeling the ebb and flow of the rich, vibrant currents of mana around me, focusing on the direction of their movements, feeling for the various subtleties which differentiated each and every stream from one another; before finally, I channeled but a few with a sudden tug and push.

Tisha Marsonachir. I casted silently within the confines of my mind, feeling the warmth of the mana-streams passing through my tainted manafield, imbuing me first with a feeling of fullness before quickly transitioning into that inevitable sharp twinge of discomfort.

A discomfort which at one point in time had been visible to all in the form of the physical cues one would associate with pain and irritation, but that had now been all but masked. Not out of some desire for stoicism or some proclamation of strength, but out of necessity.

For the Aetheronrealm court, like most existing royal courts, was a game of constance and uniformity amidst a constantly shifting political landscape that favored convention and conformity as the Nexus had intended.

Taint and any signs of tainted afflictions, be it imagined or authentic, was something to be avoided. Signs of pain during magic use being one of them.

Thalmin, of course, never noticed.

As he turned to me once again with that toothy grin of his. A predatory expression that I understood, but that most other species of the prey variety would’ve very much been naturally threatened by. “Good job. Quick thinking as always, princess.”

“I will have to inquire as to the specifics of the causative agents behind that dreadful noise.” I began softly. “I will have to delve into whether or not this will be a constant each and every night, or whether there are mitigating factors which may aid in the dampening of this noise to acceptable levels.” I continued, finally getting back into my former self. “It is a task that is regrettable, but one that is necessary to the maintenance of our continued state of affairs.” The verboseness that Emma had clearly disliked, which purposefully hid and twisted direction, course, and intent, was now coming back to me.

It was at this point that I finally felt… at ease once again. It was difficult to explain, but up until this point, my frame of reference and state of mind had been colored by that of the Earthrealmer’s presence. Whether by virtue of her mere physical presence, which was admittedly quite imposing, or by constantly being reminded of the laws of reality being unceasingly broken just by her simply existing; I’d begun feeling like a foreigner in my own reality.

Or perhaps, that was simply a result of me being a foreigner within the Nexus itself. Which was an equally viable explanation.

I couldn’t deny however, that with Emma tucked away in that tent-like construct, that I finally felt closer to my baseline than I did with her occupying the room. With the only other pair of ears being present belonging to that of the Lupinor prince’s, I finally felt comfortable with the variables I needed to take into account in any ensuing social or diplomatic interaction.

“Heh.” The lupinor prince began, shrugging, before raising a hand to rub the back of his neck. “She had that effect on you as well, huh?”

“I beg your pardon?” I turned to face the lupinor prince with both hands firmly by my side.