Chapter 62: Red Skies (Patreon)

“It is still…premature.”

“And it will remain so, as long as we have this nuisance still nipping at our heels.”

“But to unveil it against mere children?”

“…These children have been far more than a mere nuisance.”

“It is important for every operation to pay dividends, we will have our due.”

“Just…from a different source.”

“…As the Light wills.”

***
I woke with a cloud of foreboding hanging over me, something prickling at the back of my head like a half-remembered dream, and the phrase ‘what goes around comes around’ ringing in my head.

“Well that sucks,” Ritz said, when I mentioned it this morning. We were at a café on the harbor, along with Tula and M’gann. Excuse me, with Megan. Raven was back at the mountain, breaking in her new book collection, but I had things to talk about, especially since Tula had sounded interested in a position on the Team.

She looked like just another co-ed, with her sleek sea green button down and tank top. Actually seeing her in casual clothes only made her look like Megan’s older sister even more, something that Megan was having fun with if her coordinated outfit was any indication. Just…only child things.

Ritz, of course, looked completely stunning in white with crimson accents, and even I was, begrudgingly, in a pair of the skinniest jeans I’d ever owned and a shoulder-less top that I’d only realized showed a bit of my stomach after Ritz had shoved me out the door.

It was almost awkward, realizing that the envy and admiration that filled the coffee shop was directed at us. More than my fair share centered around me specifically. 

But, back to the matter at hand.

“Martian priests don’t study precognitive magics,” Megan said with a cute frown. I’d put up a barrier around our table, a simple illusion really, that made it sound like we were talking about stereotypical girl things.

Quite literally, the listener would hear whatever conversation they all collectively thought they should be hearing. It was a neat little piece of spellwork. One that left Tula shaking her head in awe when I’d cast it so ‘effortlessly.’ 

“Like, if that’s what you’re feeling, we’ll keep an eye out,” Ritz said. She took a sip of her double caramel expressasomething or other, “but there’s not much else we can do.”

“How are you always so blasé?” I said. Ritz only gave me a slow smirk. With a huff, I glanced away, cheeks warm. “What about Atlantis?” We paused for a moment, before Megan gently nudged Tula.

She started, the spell formula between her hands started to unravel. “Oh, no! I had—” I reached, steading the matrix as I rested my hand atop one of hers. Instead of completely the spell, however, I simply pushed it back to where she’d had it before her concentration had slipped.

“Oh, uh, thank you…” Tula looked a bit put out. Ritz chortled. “My apologies, what was the question again?”

“Does Atlantis have any experience with precognition?” I asked.

Tula hummed. “Not as such?” she ventured. “I believe there are some simply auguries that we still perform, looking into the tides and flows that surround our home, but even those have fallen more out of favor, since King Orin has introduced the mathematical models that you use on the surface.”

“Magic, more finnicky and less precise that computers,” Ritz said. “Now I’ve seen it all.”

“It’s so amazing though, isn’t it?” Megan said. “I can’t imagine being able to see into the future like that, even for just the weather.” She sighed. “You treat magic so differently on Earth.”

Tula shrugged, her eyes furrowing as she returned to the spell I’d given her. “If you’re interested in learning, why not apply to the Conservatory?”

“You can do that?”

“It would perhaps be difficult for you to attend, given that it is in Poseidonis, but the King and Queen have labored to make the Conservatory as meritocratic as they are able,” Tula said. Megan looked ready to burst with questions at that, but Ritz patted her on the shoulder.

“Give her a second before the barrage,” she said. “Let’s not mess up Tula’s spell again.”

I nodded. “She’s almost there.”

Tula grumbled. “It certainly doesn’t feel as such.” Ritz and I shared a laugh. That was the rudest thing I’d heard the Atlantean say to date.

“But…” Megan said quietly. “Can I really learn magic? Don’t you need…wouldn’t I know already?”

“From what I’ve seen, most people on this plane are capable of some magic,” I said. “For instance, everyone in this coffee shop could probably manage to cast a simple cantrip if they studied enough. It’s in their aura.”

Megan looked at me with eyes full of hope. I gave her a soft smile. “I don’t really know what Martian auras look like, yours is definitely present, in the same way most magic capable humans are. But even if you don’t have this vaunted ability that everyone talks so much about, well, there’s plenty of magic you can learn that doesn’t require any power from you.”

“Really?”

To the side, Tula nodded. “It’s mostly, ah, ritual magic…” She paused for a long moment, a bead a sweat running down the side of her face. “Like the auguries...I mentioned, but…” With an almost audible snick the spell in her hands clicked into place. “I got it!”

“Congratulations,” I said. “Now give it a test.”

Tula blinked. “Right here?” I nodded.

With a worried look, she fired the spell. A moment later, I felt a tug almost like someone was pulling on my hand, back to this plane. “I noticed that,” I said. “We’ll do a test to see if it works when I’m on a different plane later, but it should function the same way.”

“How marvelous,” Tula said. “To think you created a spell that is able to slip between the boundaries of reality itself. Can this be replicated?”

I smirked. “That’ll be your job,” I said. “This version is based on my own complex soul structure and the theory of quantum entanglement, so it’s up to you to see if you can make it work for anything else.”

“I see,” Tula said. “Still, nothing worth doing is ever simple, is it?”

“That’s the gods honest truth,” Ritz said.

Apparently satisfied for the moment, Tula said, “I’ll practice it more later, but for now, Megan, you should know that we have simple and non-intrusive ways of testing people for magical ability. And even those few Atlanteans who do not possess it are not inherently disbarred from entering the conservatory. Why, some of the city’s greatest enchanters can’t cast a simple light cantrip!”

Megan’s smile was shy, but hopeful all the same. “Well, I think…I’d like to try, if that’s okay.”

“Do you need any materials?” I asked.

Tula hummed. “There are a few different foci that we often use for such rituals. For a martian I don’t know which would be most effective however…”

“How about this one?” With a wave of my hand, and a twist of my barrier, a summoned copy of a focus from the Conservatory of Sorcery appeared on the table.

Tula gaped for a moment, before taking up the blue orb of sea glass. In the middle was a twisted chunk of igneous rock, twisted into an almost handlike shape. We’d spent a few more days in Atlantis, after my defeat of Ocean Master, and Queen Meera had been far more willing to share advances in Atlantean sorcery and artifice in return for my service and my insights.

“You never cease to amaze,” Tula said. She picked up the sphere, it was small enough to rest comfortably in her cupped hands. “I can detect no difference from the original…”

“There shouldn’t be a difference,” I said. “My summons are functionally identical copies, though they vanish if I should leave the plane.”

“Exact copies?”

I gave a small smile. “Well, I can’t replicate the soul, and even then, summoning spells are some of the most difficult for me to learn. Still, capturing these seemed worthwhile.”

“Why did you choose this one?” Tula asked.

Meanwhile, Megan was already leaning forward, “It’s so pretty.”

“You mean other than that?” I asked. Megan blushed but Ritz grinned at her, and if there was one thing my old Clan Leader was good at, it was diffusing tension. I took the orb from Tula. “Beyond just my gut instinct, these foci are supposed to match the person who’s being tested right?” Tula nodded. “Sea Glass and rock, one came from the surface, the other from deeper even than the sea, by it’s very nature, it’s a liminal object.” I waved at Megan, “and more than that, the igneous rock here was caught in the very moment of it’s eruption, still halfway through it’s own metamorphosis, capturing the essence of what it is to be always in transition.”

“Wow, you put a lot of thought into that one,” Ritz said.

I tugged a strand of my hair. “I made up maybe half of that on the spot,” I said, sheepishly. “It was mostly a gut instinct.”

“A gut instinct that was mostly correct,” Tula said, patting Megan on the hand. “In any case, I can’t think of any other catalyst that would work nearly half as well for our purposes.”

“So, what do I do?” Megan said. “Oh and Hello, Megan! Should we really be doing this here?”

Ritz smirked. “Don’t worry about it.” She nudged me. “The Sorceress Supreme over here has got us covered.”

I sighed. “Don’t call me that, please,” I said. “It was bad enough when it was just Kaldur.” She just chortled. “But yes, I’ve put up a barrier, no one should notice this.”

“Wow.”

Ritz made finger guns at Megan, “And this mystic power can be yours too, for two easy payments of $19.99!”

“Stop it!” Megan said, laughing. Tula and I shared a commiserating glance.

“Would you like to do the honors?” I asked.

“Oh! Thank you,” Tula said. She took the orb in hand once more. “Now, simply place a hand on the orb itself.”

“What’s it do?” Ritz asked.

Tula gave a small smile as Megan reached out and gingerly placed her fingers on the cool glass. “Perhaps it is unsurprising, but we Atlanteans view mana as the ocean within. It has surges and quells, ebbs and flows, and this orb when invoked properly, will find a sense of the depth and strength of that ocean.”

“Poetic,” Ritz said. Then her smile turned evil. “Taylor just took some of her big, hot mana and shoved it inside of me.” She shivered, arms wrapping around herself as my cheeks when atomic red. “I couldn’t walk straight for the rest of the day!”

Tula and Megan paused and looked at me.

My mouth opened.

Then it closed. 

Ritz placed the back of her hand against her forehead, slumping dramatically. “It was my first time!”

“I swear to god if the next words out of your mouth are ‘you better take responsibility,’ I am finding the most safe, boring, plane I could possible find and leaving you there.”

She gasped. “And now she tries to extort me,” she shook her head. “What is the world coming to?”

I grumbled, hunching over in my cloak. “Ask the President.”

Ritz laughed again. “Good one,” she said. “Anyway, show’s over, folks. Might as well get on with the ritual.”

Megan tittered, pressing a finger against her lips. “Your friends are the best, Taylor,” she said, resting her hand on the orb more comfortably.

“I should hope so,” I said. “You’re one of my friends after all.”

She gave back a small smile as Tula began to chant. After a moment, the orb began to glow with a gently light. 

“Is that…” Megan breathed.

“It is,” I said. “Congratulations.”

“A good starting mana pool,” Tula said after a moment more. “A bit below average, for an Atlantean, but then, your family likely hasn’t been born into magic for centuries.”

Or had to use part of their own magic to fuel the enchantments that let them live underwater, I thought.

“So that means I’m a mage?”

“It means you can be a mage,” I said. “Though, in this case, it’s only as difficult as asking Tula or I for some help to get started.”

“No doubt you’ll be welcome at the conservatory as well,” Tula said, with a warm smile. “Queen Meera was most pleased with your visit, Taylor.”

“Apparently being a hero has it’s perks.”

“Oh, don’t be such a downer,” Ritz said. “Teach the girl a spell already, she’s practically vibrating in her seat.”

For her part, Megan did look like she was barely holding in her anticipation, hands scrunched up next to her shoulders like a kid waiting for the cookie jar.

“Alright, alright,” I said. “There are a few simple ones, many of them are pretty boring…but, if I had to make a recommendation.” I tilted my head. “How do you feel about a flame protection spell?”

Megan blinked at that, looking a bit apprehensive. “What do you mean?”

I gave her a wane smile. Even though it had been quite a while, I still remember what she and Kaldur looked like, passed out in a cage of flames. “A simple enchantment, that will protect you completely from the affects of fire.”

“You can do that?”

“You can,” I said. “It’s an older spell, and it takes a bit of mana every time, but it’s something you can improve on as you go.” I smiled. “I call it Circle of Protection: Red.”

“That sounds like an odd name,” Megan said, but I only smiled.

“It’s a classic.”