Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (55/?) (Patreon)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just in case the italics don't show in the post, I've attached a PDF version! :D

I couldn’t decide whether or not I’d just been thrown straight into a soap opera, or a Greek tragedy.

Because the twists and turns of this whole situation had left me with whiplash, and then some.

All of this was so sudden.

So unexpected in fact that it left me feeling like I’d just been suckerpunched.

But in a good way, if that was even possible.

I maintained my composure throughout the whole offer, my features not once shifting, because there was nothing really to shift.

This was one of the great perks of the armor.

This was one of those instances where the armor’s stunting of about half of all human emotive abilities was coming in handy. As it allowed me to play a pretty mean poker face, even if what was underneath the inch or so of helmet was an outright look of dumb confusion mixed with a dazed bewilderment that left my mouth hanging agape.

No one could tell how dumb I looked underneath the layers upon layers of quadruple-reinforced composalite. No one could tell that I was pulling the most inappropriate of faces in the tenses of diplomatic situations, allowing me to divert the much-needed social energy reserves that would have otherwise been used to maintain a stoic visage, to areas where they were more needed.

Namely, in my cadence and the delivery of my speech.

As well as some of the exaggerated body movements I was starting to adopt.

“So, let me get this straight.” I began, raising a single finger as I did so. “You’re offering me a position, one that hasn’t been offered in literal eons, because I just so happen to have completed some arbitrary trial that I wasn’t aware even existed?”

“Correct.” The owl replied crisply. “Indeed, it was not my, nor the library’s intent to offer you such a time-honored and storied role. However, with circumstances developing beyond what was initially expected, it seemed to be the most expedient and appropriate course of action. As it addressed both of what we seek, Cadet Emma Booker.”

“And that is?” I shot back.

“For you, it is the determination of truth, and the momentary suspension of the expectant punishments upon that which is currently at the crossroads of our conflict of interests - the Vunerian. For the library, it is the reclamation of lost knowledge, by the hands of an independent party that may act beyond the confines of the treaty and the library’s own rules. Allowing the library to circumvent those limitations, and opening up an opportunity to regain what would otherwise be definitively lost.”

“So you want a deniable asset.” I stated without hesitation, crossing my arms as I did so.

“No, because you may freely state your role as a Seeker if you so wish. Your card of patronage will be updated to reflect this, becoming more than a mere card, but a badge worthy of the honor of seekership. Indeed, the library will make no effort to deny your involvement.” The owl countered. “The library cares not for the awareness of this operation, should its agent wish to make it known, as that may be a factor which may aid in the reclamation of said knowledge. Once again, I must emphasize, the library cares not for the world beyond its walls. This likewise extends to the opinions of the denizens beyond the walls, with the exception of the obligation of both parties to uphold the terms of the treaty.”

“So… you just want someone to do the heavy lifting then.” I restated. “Or more specifically, someone to fill a role which allows you to operate beyond the restrictions of that treaty? Is that honestly it?”

“That is, as you say, it, Cadet Emma Booker.”

“Okay.” I responded with a huff. “I getcha.” I continued, shuffling both of my hands into what would’ve been my BDU jacket pockets, only to result in my arms flailing awkwardly by my side, prompting the owl to cock his head in response. “I have a few more questions before I give you my answer, if that’s alright?”

“Of course, Cadet Emma Booker.”

I would be lying if I were to say there wasn’t a part of me, deep down, that wanted to leap at this opportunity without question.

But that part of me was driven by tales of fantastical worlds, born out of the excitable mind of a young girl obsessed with fantasy.

And whilst that girl was still there, she’d been tempered. As over time, and after too many sessions of Castles and Wyverns and after semesters’ worth of lessons in modern and near-modern history in school, anything involving agreements and contracts immediately set off alarm bells in my head. Even if it was being offered by a cool owl and a fluffy red fox.

Because if there’s one thing I’d learned about the Nexus so far, it’s that this realm of magic and sorcery tended to view contracts and agreements in the same way the extrasolar corpos did at the height of their corruption - as free real estate for esoteric legalese that’s designed to trap, ensnare, and benefit only the contract holder.

And whilst the extrasolar wars had dealt a stunning blow to that culture centuries ago, leaving that final chapter of corporate exploitation firmly in the past, it was clear that the Nexus, just like the magical realms of Castles and Wyverns, seemed to be obsessed with keeping the tradition alive.

“So to set the record straight, what exactly are the terms here? For me to bring back the knowledge of exactly what was lost? And in return, you keep your hands off of the Vunerian until I can do so?”

“Correct.”

“But how exactly do you plan to enforce this?”

“Through a system of regular check-ins. Weekly check-ins will be required to report on the progress made. These check-ins will be compelled and enforced by the implementation of a spell, bound through magical oath, that will bind the Vunerian to the agreements of seekership and will intertwine his fate with that of the success, failure, or abandonment of your seeker’s quest. This includes the fulfillment of these regular visits.”

“Define compelled. And define intertwining his fate.” I shot back plainly.

“The former is a spell which will compel the will of the bound to commit to the agreed terms. The latter is a spell that binds one’s fate, in effect accomplishing much of the same. As the momentary suspension of the Vunerian’s otherwise assured fate will be annulled, thus, compelling him to submit to the fate awaiting him within the walls of the library.”

It was at that moment that I couldn’t help but to let out a long drawn out sigh.

As I couldn’t help but to feel compelled to put my foot down, right here, right now.

“No.” I stopped the owl right there, halting it before it could get another word out.

“I beg your pardon, Cadet Emma Booker?”

Living in the present with three centuries separating me from the echoes of extrasolar corpo culture didn’t mean humanity would just up and forget that dark chapter. If anything, education was the key to preventing the mistakes of that past from being repeated. Which was why despite centuries separating the current generation from that of the last extrasolar war, the issues pertinent in that era remained as ingrained in public awareness as the day they were when the war began.

“I said, no. I’ve had it up to here-” I held my hand up to my neck. “-with these magical contracts and their invasive methods of enforcement. I would be no different to Mal’tory and his ilk if I were to just let you install even more crap into his brain for the purposes of this agreement.” I paused, before once more crossing my arms and maintaining my unwavering stance. “If we are to proceed with this seekership, we’re going to need to work on the enforcement of its terms. Either that, or this whole thing’s off the table.”

That latter part was a bluff I knew was a huge risk.

But it was a risk I was willing to take for the sake of principle.

The owl went silent for a few moments, the dark call of the void once more compelling him to look directly upwards and towards the empty abyss that had just formed in the roof. A good chunk of a minute passed by before he once more craned his head back to me. A small smile had formed on his beak, or rather, it looked as if there was some sort of a fascinated excitement forming behind those thoughtful eyes.

“Two acts of brazen defiance in a single interaction.” He spoke menacingly. “And one born not out of a misplaced sense of personal pride or entitlement, but out of some adherence to a set of morals not seen since the wild times.” He chuckled. “Let me be clear about one thing, Cadet Emma Booker. These weekly visits are not typical of what the library usually demands. However, they are necessary in this particular instance. As the nature of your existence means we cannot effectively bind the Vunerian to you, preventing us from conducting a simple binding ritual that would have otherwise been sufficient for the library. As in any other instance, the course of action would have been to bind the Vunerian’s fate to you, and thus, sealing his fate upon the potential failure of your seekership. Alas, this is not possible, and I believe you know why that is.”

“My armor.” I stated plainly.

“Correct. Therefore, the weekly visits, and indeed, these compulsion spells, or in your words, these mind altering spells are intended to substitute for what is effectively a handicap of your Seekership.”

“Right.” I took another deep breath, reaching for my forehead. “The mana-less thing really throws a wrench into the works now doesn’t it? Okay then, I can at least understand where you were coming from with this.” I tentatively, but diplomatically acknowledged. “But surely we can come to some other arrangement. I’m not about to pull a Mal’tory. I’m willing to talk trade if it comes to it.”

“There is nothing you can offer, Cadet Emma Booker. And not because of your inability to do so, but rather, the fact that anything you offer will ultimately mean nothing in this context. As what the library desires is assurance. A sort of collateral that is meant to act as an incentive, to ensure that this dependent party - this Vunerian, follows through with their end of the agreement. You offering anything means nothing to the Vunerian.” The owl glared harshly at Ilunor as he spoke. “Isn’t that right, Vunerian?”

Ilunor didn’t respond to this, merely shaking fitfully in place.

“Thus, without any spells of compulsion or spells of binding, the so-called… collateral must be something of value to the Vunerian himself. Something which can compel him to return. Because as much as the library values your forthrightness, and has faith in your abilities, there is only so much that can be put on trust alone. Especially when you are but a single mortal. Moreover, I foresee a simple means to satisfy all parties.” The owl spoke as he quickly changed perches to that of my shoulder, now peering down at the discount kobold. “As I believe there might just be a solution to our troubles, one that will most certainly not involve any invasive dealings of the mind, or any bindings of the flesh.”

“What-”

“May I have your name, Vunerian?” The librarian continued abruptly, leaning closer towards Ilunor as his pupils narrowed to tiny slits.

“Lord Ilunor Rularia.” He managed out meekly, barely audibly in fact.

“Lord Ilunor Rularia.” The owl repeated menacingly, placing great emphasis on each and every one of those syllables, enunciating it in a way that only a disciplinarian bent on retribution could. “Are you of… noble blood, Lord Ilunor Rularia?”

The question came out of left field, taking me, as well as the rest of the gang by surprise.

Ilunor himself could only stare blankly at the owl, his mouth hanging agape, and his whole body tensing like a deer in headlights.

“Of course!” He proclaimed sharply, the first time in this entire interaction that he actually raised his voice beyond a squeaky whisper. “I… I don’t see why this would at all be relevant in this-”

“And you are Vunerian, correct?” The owl interrupted, deftly and effortlessly cutting Ilunor off mid-ramble.

“Yes.”

“So a noble Vunerian you are.” The owl once more reiterated, hopping off of my shoulders and landing right in front of the terrified lord. “And a noble Vunerian you appear.” With a single talon perched underneath where his ‘chin’ would be, the librarian peered closer and closer still towards the Vunerian. Before, finally, turning back to the rest of us. “I require privacy with Lord Ilunor Rularia. For the proposition I have for him is one that he more than likely would wish to remain private.” The owl announced, before turning back towards the very-nervous Ilunor. “Isn’t that right, Lord Ilunor Rularia?”

Ilunor, strangely and contrary to my expectations, nodded slowly in agreement.

“EVI, are you sure you’re not detecting any spikes in mana radiation?”

“Affirmative Cadet Emma Booker.”

That rules out any magically-induced persuasion tactics.

But still.

I wasn’t about to let any part of this go behind the scenes. All the library would need would be to sneak him out of my sights, and potentially bind him with a spell anyways.

“I’d rather this meeting be conducted in the open, if possible.”

“Perhaps you could deploy a privacy screen.” Thacea suggested, prompting all eyes in the room to promptly land on her. “I believe what Cadet Emma Booker is fearful of is the potential for the undermining of the Vunerian’s mind, Great Librarian. She wishes to ensure that the terms of her wishes are followed through. Namely: a lack of magical binding. Thus, if the issue in question is privacy, I believe a privacy screen should act as an acceptable compromise for all parties involved?”

The librarian turned towards Ilunor with an expectant gaze. “Is this acceptable to you, Lord Ilunor Rularia?”

The diminutive lizard nodded, prompting Thacea’s suggestions to be taken up by a burst of mana radiation, with only two words from the owl preceding the bubble of silence. “Very well.”

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 225% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

The next few minutes flew by surprisingly quickly. The interactions between the owl and Ilunor were seemingly tense, with Ilunor constantly pointing to a broach on his noble attire, but otherwise, was uneventful. The only notable event that happened throughout it was Ilunor’s handoff of what seemed to be a crumpled up piece of paper, which unfurled, proved to be the letter I’d returned to him earlier. Except this one seemed to be stamped with the same insignia as the one on the broach he wore. Aside from that, there were no shouts or screams, no beckoning of help, no subsequent bursts of mana radiation.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 275% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

Save for one near the very end of it.

Yet unlike most ‘higher level’ spells I’d experienced thus far, this one barely caused a disruption in mana radiation levels above that of the conjuring of the bubble of silence itself.

I turned to Thacea and Thalmin, both of whom seemed to understand exactly what my concerns were. “There was indeed a disruption in the mana-streams, Emma. However, the disruption I felt cannot account for anything that would be required of a spell of binding or compulsion.” Thacea acknowledged.

“Indeed it is.” The owl openly acknowledged, the privacy screen having come down just as Thacea finished addressing my concerns. “You have nothing to fret over, Cadet Emma Booker. Lord Ilunor Rularia and I have come to an agreement, one which the library deems sufficient to ensure his compliance to these weekly visits.”

Ilunor sheepishly nodded in reply, reaching a hand up to scratch both of his cheeks, which seemed to finally have some color returning to it.

I immediately turned to address Ilunor, circumventing the owl entirely. “Ilunor? What exactly did you-”

“Can we just get on with it, newrealmer? I haven’t the energy nor the compulsion to spend any more time in this stuffy room than I need to.” He responded sharply.

“So, you’re fine with this agreement?” I reiterated. “Because I don’t want to move forward if-”

“While it is not what I would have preferred. That being complete, outright, and instantaneous exoneration. It is certainly more agreeable than mind manipulation, newrealmer.” Ilunor stated plainly.

“So what-”

“I will disclose the nature of the agreement when I feel like it.” He stopped me before I could even get those words out.

“Right.” I spoke, before turning to the owl once more.

“So do we have an agreement, Cadet Emma Booker? Your Seekership, with the aims to exonerate the Vunerian, will cover the gathering of the topics of what was lost. It is meant to serve two purposes. One: as a partial recuperation of the library’s losses. And two: as a trial to assess your investigative abilities, to act as a benchmark to determine whether or not you are capable of pursuing the far larger quest of retrieving all of what was lost. What you will gain from this in the meanwhile is the suspension of the Vunerian’s otherwise guaranteed fate. Which shall remain suspended until such a time where your Seekership comes to an end. Either by failure or success.”

“And the whole issue of the Vunerian’s inability to be bound to me for my Seekership. That’s been addressed by weekly visits, as well as this mystery agreement between you two to convince him to return to the library weekly right?”

“That is correct, Cadet Emma Booker.”

“And what about delays? What if we have something urgent to do that’ll cause us to become otherwise incapable of returning to the library within that time frame? Like a field trip or… a dragon quest or something?”

The owl seemingly grinned at that question, but it wasn’t clear if it was because of the questioning, skeptical nature of my stance, or the mention of the dragon quest. “Deferrals may be requested as is necessary. The library is not unreasonable. Moreover, you can rest assured that even if the time limit is breached, that the agreement set forth will result in no bodily or mental harm to the Vunerian.” He turned to Ilunor once more with a satisfied gaze. “Such is the nature of our unique arrangement.” Before turning back to me. “A concession which has not been made since the wild times, so take that as you will.”

With all of that cleared up, the ball was finally thrown back to my court as to how I wanted to proceed.

The fact that we’d come from an assured death sentence to what amounted to an extended parole contingent on data gathering was nothing short of a miracle, especially given the evidence we had to work with.

Moreover, the fact that it wasn’t just contingent on incriminating Mal’tory meant we had more room to work with. As we now had two avenues of attack by which to approach this whole mess. So if the investigation on Mal’tory’s front came to an end, then we’d at least have data gathering to save Ilunor from assured death.

More than that though, it wasn’t like this quest wasn’t without its benefits to my overarching mission.

Data gathering, intelligence sorting, and scouting was always one of the key goals of this mission. Whilst I had a checklist and a guideline that was definitely useful, this whole questline effectively gave me a laundry list of self-admitted vital intelligence that the Nexus themselves want hidden away from me.

In a weird convoluted way, I’d just struck an uncorked datamine, as the topics I needed to find were presumably the very topics that I would’ve needed to look for anyways when it came to vital Nexian intel.

It was more work for me, of course.

But that’s what I was here for.

So I couldn’t really complain.

“I accept.” I announced dryly.

This prompted the room to once more shudder. Except this time, it wasn’t so much an aggressive vibration, but one that was measured, consistent, and strangest of all, resonant in the noises it made.

Several things began manifesting all at once with a flurry of mana radiation warnings. Starting off with the various quilts and tapestries in the open attic above unfurling and unrolling. Some of them doing so by some unseen ethereal force, some by the aid of foxes that jumped, leaped, and scurried from corner to corner.

Soon enough, we found ourselves standing right in the middle of a room that had just been elevated from a quaint woodlands hotel lobby to a quaint woodlands hotel lobby with celebratory decorations.

But in a good way.

As what it lacked in flash or flair, it made up for in heart. With each of the painstakingly woven tapestries being hung at odd angles and to varying degrees of success, but done so with care and attention that felt honest and genuine, rather than the cold perfection that normally came with thee library’s otherwise constant changes in set dressing. Each of the unfurled tapestries depicted what seemed to be scenes of great battles and quests in what appeared to be individually tailored murals of various adventurers, their faces and names etched to the top right of the tapestries.

What’s more, what sounded like tavern music began playing in the background. As lutes, guitars, and other various string, percussion, and woodwind instruments echoed throughout the room. All played by a whole gaggle of foxes that coordinated in ways I couldn’t have ever imagined was possible, each of them performing carefully coordinated individual movements, that made up for a lack of opposable thumbs and dexterous hands.

It was in the midst of all of this that Buddy, who had been absent since the proposition of my seekership, finally returned with something in his maw.

Something that he now offered to me with excited eyes.

With a small urging from the owl I grabbed it gently, unfurling the rolled up quilted fabric to reveal a series of letters that formed my name, and what seemed to be an unfinished reproduction of my helmet at the top right hand corner. Stitched up in what I could only describe as a chibi version of my helmet, tilted at an angle, with one eye seemingly larger than the other; giving it a goofy but endearing expression.

“I did what I could in the time I had, Emma!” Buddy yapped out excitedly, jumping up and down with a series of four clacks as each one of his clawed paws hit the ground in rapid succession.

“It’s… this is…” I could barely form the words as Buddy continued looking up at me with an expectant, excited gaze. “This is incredible Buddy, I love it!”

The fox went wild at my affirmations, giggling, cackling, laying on the ground on his back, before rolling from side to side from one support beam to another.

Several more foxes soon arrived to take the fabric away, as they lifted it up high and above my head, and began hanging it from two of the taller support beams, giving the impression that this whole celebration was for me.

“Cadet Emma Booker.” The owl announced pridefully, enunciating my name in a way that was almost the exact opposite of the way he’d regarded Ilunor’s a while ago. “The library is humbled to ratify your entry into the ranks of the Seekership. Whilst this celebration may seem quaint compared to what the library has become, it has remained unchanged since the induction of the last seeker eons ago. The library sees no reason to change it, especially as you remind it of the wild times that have long since passed. With all of that being said…” The librarian paused, grabbing what seemed to be another book from the haphazardly constructed bookshelves with his own talons, before opening it up to a page with a series of names, similar to a ledger. Buddy soon walked over with what appeared to be a quill and a bottle of ink, setting it on the counter, as I looked at the whole setup warily.

The memories of the yearbook signing were still vivid in my memory.

“EVI, do you detect any mana from these artifacts?”

“Negative, Cadet Booker. All items seem to be inert.”

“If you’re concerned about the potential for binding, don’t be.” The owl announced suddenly. “I would’ve made that point clear to you if that were the case. This is merely tradition. One which you don’t explicitly need to partake in if you wish. There were many seekers prior to this who likewise refused the signing, for either reasons of personal intent or reasons of faith.”

I took a moment to consider this, before reaching for the quill. I dipped it tentatively in the ink, testing it, but feeling nothing.

None of the excessive weight from the yearbook ceremony. No sign of mana radiation. Nothing at all.

Turning towards Thacea, the princess responded with a confident nod, reassuring me that my sensors were detecting everything correctly.

With a single breath, I took the plunge, signing my name all the while monitoring the EVI for any spikes of mana radiation, or even the mysterious +1 radiation for that matter.

None came.

In fact, several foxes came to physically dry out the ink by using spare sheets of paper lying around.

“Cadet Emma Booker, henceforth you shall be known to the library as a harbinger of truth. A fellow amongst equals, and a name amongst the forever-named. Your tales, your actions, your existence in this time, shall be preserved for all of eternity.”

“For the library is eternal.” The chorus of foxes spoke up once more in unison.

“And the memories of its members shall remain eternally.” The owl added pridefully.

The whole room broke into a series of uproarious cheers, which given that it was composed entirely of foxes, turned out to be a cacophony of yips, yaps, and fox-like cackles that momentarily drowned out the music.

It was after a few moments of this that a cart made of similarly rustic wood came out, with a series of snacks that screamed home-made.

But just like before, I was barred from tasting any of it.

“Thank you, librarian.” I managed out awkwardly. “But I do have one final question if that’s alright?”

“Of course, Cadet Emma Booker.”

“Now that the whole great scarring situation’s been taken care of, what’s going to happen to the morning investigation?”

I expected the whole room to come to a screeching halt at that.

Instead, the celebrations continued, with foxes yipping and yapping and beginning their assaults on the very food cart they brought out.

“The library will inform the designated conduit, in this case the incumbent dean of the Transgracian Academy, regarding the lack of necessity for the activation of Article 25 of the treaty.” The owl responded with a tactful hoot.

“Right, and how exactly will you inform him of this?”

“Through the appropriate channels, with myself acting as the representative.”

“So, just curious, you have to be a member of the library to act as a representative to relay this to the incumbent dean, correct?”

“Why of course!”

“Then I have a small proposition to make, librarian. Would it be possible for me to inform the Dean of this development?”

The owl paused, taking a moment to consider this, before responding with a nod. “As a member of the library, I do not see why this cannot be the case. So if you wish to do so, please, hand the man this.” The owl, with a small burst of mana radiation, pulled out a letter about the same height as him from under his wing. “Take this to him, you need not say anything more, as the contents of this letter will address all that requires addressment.”

“You know…” I let out a chuckle. “In my world, it’s usually people who tie messages to birds in order to have them deliver messages.” I spoke, prompting both the librarian and Thacea to shoot me two simultaneous side-eyes in the process. “Anyways! Yes, will do!” I attempted to swiftly move past that. “With all that being said, it is getting pretty late, so… I plan on heading out now if that’s alright?”

A series of despondent whines was the immediate reaction to that announcement.

“A swift end to a Seekership induction ceremony is not unheard of. In fact, the shortest one was scantily 5 seconds in length. So you may leave, and you may return again at any time. As always, the library appreciates your patronage and your contributions, Seeker.”

With a nod from my end, and a bow of respect from Thacea, we made our leave. However, right before we left through that front door, Thalmin promptly turned towards me. “So what’s our plan of attack with this investigation?”

“I’d prefer to at least recoup for a bit before we jump into our next quest. But honestly, our best best would be Mal’tory’s office. That drone had issues getting there, sure, but after I head out to recover the drones that survived, and with a bit more planning, I’m sure we can get into that sanctum of evil. That’s our first lead. Our second is Apprentice Larial. Beyond that, there’s always Vanavan we can squeeze for information. The dean, who I’m planning to meet tomorrow anyways. And heck, a whole lotta places that I probably don’t even know about yet. Suffice it to say, there’s a lot out there to search for. So don’t worry, I know we’ll be able to pull it off.”