Epsilon Twilight
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Chapter 2: Information Magic
🕑 Added 2024-12-14 11:41:47 +0000 UTCInstantly, Nolotl could tell something was amiss about the Empyrean. And he wasn’t talking about the status.
“I am surprised with your Alignment,” the Empyrean of Information explained tentatively.
“Really? I always come here at the start of the month.” Enantyum said.
The gnosiamancer briefly connected to the Cognition to check what day it was, because keeping track was for losers. I mean, it’s the second of Space, so I guess IT IS the beginning of the month. He mentally slapped himself. Literally. Focus, Nolotl. There are serious matters here.
“I think I would have heard about you having a 98% Alignment with Time if that was the case.” He commented.
“Hmm... lemme see.” Before Nolotl could react, Enantyum snatched the status sheet from his hands. He squinted his eyes at the words in the paper. “So… the only thing that weirds you out is the Alignment?”
Nolotl didn’t need off his Lesser Read Thoughts to know he was being talked into a trap. He needed precise wording to not fall into it.
“I’ve seen weirder.” The gnosiamancer admitted. It was true, he had done his family’s screenings since he was little to practice. And the Tezlan royal family was… uncommon. Who would have thought that fornication and incest would have had dedicated titles? “But an Alignment that high… that’s a first.”
“You are different this time.” The chronomancer muttered.
“Excuse me?” Nolotl reacted at the odd wording. “In any case, you are the one who’s different. I haven’t seen you this jovial since… Never, actually.”
Enantyum frowned at him. “Doesn’t matter.” He sighed in annoyance a moment later. “Just don’t make a fuss about what you’ve seen here. You have never been a tattletale so far, but it’s also weird to see variance this early. If you want to tell someone, wait for the celestial alignment in a few weeks, after that I won’t care.”
And with that, Enantyum Dei made himself out of the queue. People behind him looked pissed by distracting the clerk for this long, but most were students who recognized their faces as two of the nine Empyreans and knew better than to speak up.
What a weird exchange. Nolotl shoved their conversation to the back of his mind and he needed to keep up with the ever-growing queue of people in need for a screening, but the sporadic off-tune words irked him. What was that about variance?
Soon he became too drowned in work to think and left his body and mind on autopilot. People thought gnosiamancers joked with that, but with enough muscle memory or well-defined instructions, an Information mage could definitely disconnect from everything and leave their parts working independently.
That was mostly the reason why every gnosiamancer in the academy always looked dead-tired but hadn’t gone insane – for the most part – because for them, they experienced less time. It wasn’t that different from a chronomancer skipping time, or for a more normal analogy, sleeping through events.
A mental ringing told him that it was lunch time and he reconnected his mind to his body.
“Lunch time!” He announced to the queue that had somehow not dwindled in the slightest. “This is the last person I will screen, the rest, scram for the other counters.”
A lot of students mumbled in dissatisfaction because they had been waiting for the pitiful amount of five whole minutes, but as soon as Nolotl raised his voice, two scribes from the office’s back woke up from their nap and manned the counters. Ah, like clockwork. A slave clockwork.
Every student was of course remunerated for their services, but the treatment of gnosiamancers was always lacking. His peers thought their treatment would change when he came into power, but truth was that Nolotl enjoyed work. It reminded him of his home, though with fewer ceremonies.
Which only made it objectively better.
Nolotl stretched his every extremity and walked up to the canteen. He found many familiar faces, but he was too doozy from just waking up – mentally that was – and preferred not to be drowned in socializing. Instead he picked up the nastiest yet most nutritious food he found and went up the Empyrean’s Balcony.
As awe-inspiring as the name would seem, it was just an elevated platform on the canteen’s second floor reserved for the Empyreans. It was enclosed, so that gave it some privacy.
Considering how awful mages were at keeping up with time unless they were gnosiamancers or chronomancers, and even then they most likely ignored the hour, Nolotl only found one more fellow Empyrean sitting in the decorated room.
“Mother be praised.” The Empyrean of Life saluted him.
It always confused him how dryads referred to Mother Nature as a single living and breathing entity, but he knew better than to inquire about it.
“Morn- good day.” He corrected himself as he realized it was, in fact, not morning anymore. “Eating alone?”
“A good change in scenery as I am always eating in the commune,” the dryad expressed with a smile. Her food solely comprising of various fruits and vegetables. Not a glass of any liquid in sight. “Though I understand why my presence is… unexpected in this place.”
“Nonsense.” Nolotl said as he sat down. “You are more active than Beta, I almost never see her.” It was hard to keep track of the Empyrean of Void as her whole shtick was to erase her presence.
“Lady Methasome is quite the enthusiastic seeker of knowledge. I find her eagerness endearing, and it is not like her species is the most… communal. You would not blame me for being among my sisters, would you, princeling?”
“Not at all, Clonazepam.” The gnosiamancer responded genuinely. “I see no problem with her antics whilst she fulfills her Empyrean duties, like the rest of us.”
“Some have it easier than others.” The dryad dedicated him a warm smile, which sent shivers all over Nolot’s body.
Even though dryads were not capable of standard sexual reproduction, Clonazepam was built like a monument to fertility. Not only did she possess quite the ample bosoms, but also hips so wide that the epithet ‘child-bearing’ was the first thought that came to everyone’s mind the moment they saw her.
Not that Nolotl cared about that because he was already in a polygamous relationship with knowledge and the stars. And the latter could be a harsh and demanding mistress.
Clonazepam, much like the Life she bolstered, was a vivacious person, but both Empyreans ended up eating in comfortable silence. Sometimes the lack of words was the best way of communicating with another person.
“I am going to go back to the healing ward, if it is not too much of a problem.” The dryad stated as soon as she finished with her meal.
“None at all,” The gnosiamancer dismissed with his head. “Your job is way more important than mine, after all.”
A miniature city could work with dysfunctional bureaucracy, but hospitals? Health was one of the most important sectors, and people in the academy got hurt in the most bizarre ways during their magical adventures.
“It was a pleasure exchanging words with you, Nolotl.” The Empyrean of Life said almost motherly. Which was curious as he was older than her.
“Likewise.” The Empyrean of Information replied with a smile that he kept up until the plant-woman left.
Then he became a facsimile of the person he had shown. Portraying emotions, warm ones at that, was exhausting. But he had understood from little that if he didn’t do so, things would turn sour.
Nolotl Xocoyotzin, the respected Empyrean of Information, was just the person people wanted to see. A prince from a foreign country, a more than competent young mage, and a well-built man. All aspects were attractive in their own way, but he himself cared little for that which wasn’t a part of his studies.
Other Empyreans could allow themselves to be extravagant, to be themselves, as they had the skill to back it up. Nolotl’s only advantage was his singlemindedness, his proficiency to cling to a given task and either complete it or die trying.
He was alone in the Empyrean Academy, seas away from his home, and unable to come back even if he had the resources. Resources which were scarce as the only expense covered by the Empyrean title was the scholarship and nothing more. And his small parting gift had only been sufficient to cover the first two years of the academy.
“Stay there and do not come back.” His father had told him. “Success matters not. Only your continued existence.”
Sure, he had meant well. Tezlan was in a state of turmoil after constant flower wars where many of the greatest champions had perished, and even now, civil war looked inevitable. Whilst most other countries would classify the concept of flower wars as light skirmishes, Tezlan states considered it far more significant than that, even if no more than hundreds died in each of those conflicts. The only reason why other countries hadn’t attacked the weakened country yet was because Tezlan’s geography was second to only to one in defensibility, that being Mount Empyrean.
Adept mages who wanted to inscribe on the academy had to climb one of the roughest and tallest mountains in the world to have a chance at said inscription. Some even died in the process if they were careless.
What Mount Empyrean had in verticality, Tezlan’s jungles had in horizontality. Both being equally lethal. Humidity could kill, even if most people didn’t know so, but the dangers beneath the undergrowth were even worse.
Nolotl’s tattoos had been infused with countless antidote enchantments since little. And that was only scratching the surface of what is needed to survive Tezlan’s lethality.
The Starguided Warriors of Tezlan were, after all, the most durable and ferocious in all of Lon.
A brief pulse sent across the Cognition told him that the time had come already and that he should stop sulking. The Empyrean left the canteen and directed himself to one of the many lecture halls of the central tower.
The Empyrean Academy was, of course, an educational center, so students were expected to attend classes. Not Empyreans, though. Considered to be the epitome of their respective Alignments whilst still only being students, they were exempt from such trivialities as classes and credits. Partially for the latter.
Having said so, Nolotl knew his knowledge was incomplete. He was only nineteen, and even if like every other gnosiamancer he was advanced in his didactic material, the ramifications of a single school of magic were too diverse to cover in simple books.
The prince’s destination was a seminar imparted to postgraduate students who remained in the academy, taught by none other than Xanax the Wise, the master of the Information Tower.
The hall was colossal, though there were not many attendants present, though they compensated that with their attentiveness. Because this wasn’t a mandatory class and most attendants weren’t even students, the first rows were full. Not that things like proximity mattered much to gnosiamancers.
Knowledge was the only thing that traveled faster than light.
Nolotl sat down on the third row and recognized some faces, but they were blurs in his mind. That was one of the problems of Perfect Recollection from his Information boons. Remembering something wasn’t the same as acknowledging it. He could recall every face in the academy, but only a few he could recognize, and even less could he put them names.
Gnosiamancers tended to have the opposite of prosopagnosia, where they could recognize every face yet had no idea whose that face was.
His hyperactive mind had finally begun to focus once the archmage materialized in the room. Quite literally. Xanax’s body suddenly appeared behind the lecture with not so much of a puff or burst of wind common teleportation may have.
Though this was nothing more than a party trick.
Information magic was exactly what the name entailed. There weren’t any movement spells in the whole school of magic, and even offensive ones were few.
What the tower master had done was nothing more than a very high-grade illusion. Most gnosiamancers would explode in rage upon hearing the prestigious Simulacrum spell be called an illusion however.
Simulacrum was one of the most interesting Information spells as it was the only ‘movement’ spell the school possessed. If one considered creating a second body as a mobility option. Which most did.
As it would seem, being able to materialize a body anywhere you had previously been to within range – whether physically or mentally – was quite the useful tool. Especially when that body was as magically capable as the real one.
Perhaps only a projection, but the entity before them wielded the might of an archmagi.
“Alright fellows, let us get going. We need to end these seminars as soon as possible. I want a full week free in advance for the total celestial alignment.” The ancient mage’s voice thundered across the hold, cranky in both wisdom and annoyance.
The blackboard illuminated behind the mage’s projection. Kudos to him, he could have just projected the knowledge into the Cognition but physicalized the information because there were some attendees in the room who weren’t gnosiamancers. It was easy to detect who was a gnosiamancer or not because of how they distorted the plane like small singularities.
Nolotl focused on his sense of sight and hearing, forgoing the others for a better lecture experience.
“Last time we were talking about how celestial bodies can affect, whether positively or negatively, the potency of magic in preparation for the coming alignment.” Drawings and text projected into the board. “I know many of you will try to realize Alignment rituals or some boosting ones. Let us be honest, everyone will. And that’s why we must maximize the success rate of said rituals.”
Xanax focused on two given drawings. One a spellcircle of an Alignment-boosting ritual, the other a celestial map of the coming weeks.
Ah, it was beautiful seeing the star map even if it was only a drawing. The coming celestial alignment wasn’t called total for anything. Everything would be aligned that day. Everything.
All the five planets of the stellar system, alongside every major satellite of all planets, and the host star. And that wasn’t the end of it, because that stellar line was also aligned with the galaxy’s center.
This was the first time in recorded history that such a colossal alignment would happen. This wasn’t a simple total eclipse or the arrangement of planets of a system, but a whole galaxy.
Alignment would be at its strongest in just a few weeks.
“First,” the sound of chalk echoed across the room even if there was no one writing, “we must take into account how taxed the local Cognition would be. I recommend you all to get as close to the zenith of Mount Empyrean as possible. If you can get yourselves a mage that will fly you higher than that, even better. But transportation services will most likely shut down that day, so you’d better cash in any favors you may have now.”
The drawings and his explanation was clear, the closer and the clearer sight one had of the cosmos that day, the more potency one would achieve in any given ritual.
“For those that aren’t knowledgeable in astromancy, get your minds ready as soon as possible, because it can be taxing for the uninitiated. And I expect the complexity of even the simplest stargazing spells to skyrocket. I do not jest when I say this, some will end up with fried brains, so watch out.” Xanax’s voice was stern and serious.
Nolotl wasn’t the best astromancer of Tezlan, but he was amongst those of his royal blood. He knew how harshly a reflected star could sear one’s mind. The celestial alignment would especially increase the potency of the Light, Information, and Void schools of magic, far more than any other. And unlike photomancers and akyromancers, gnosiamancers were quite susceptible to the copious amounts of raw data provided by the stars.
“I recommend the work of Star Reading and Data Processing by my peer Cepha Lexin, the Light tower master.” Xanax created a three-dimensional image of said book. Which was thick enough to be considered a murder weapon. “The book details many spellcircles to divert the overwhelming white noise of the cosmos and filter only the best data. Whilst not strictly necessary for the rituals we are going to see these coming days, they are going to be a recommended safety measure. Though if you made it this far without spontaneously combusting,” he wasn’t joking, “it is because you take safety seriously.”
What followed were two hours of constant spellcircle drawings, not leaving any one linger on the blackboard for more than a minute. It was obvious that this lecture was improvised as it wasn’t a class and that every attendant was expected to keep up with the demanding tempo. Nolotl had to exploit his Perfect Recollection a bit for the many drawings to stay in his mind, which was a boon he preferred not to use.
After all, being able to recall a thing with perfect clarity wasn’t the same as being conscious of it. How many things could he recall perfectly in theory yet hadn’t done because he forgot they existed?
Many, most likely.
Even then, all knowledge was good for a gnosiamancer. He could already feel his Alignment shift from this lecture. The change would be infinitesimal, but accumulating such small increments paid in the long run.
Perhaps offensively useless and defensively lacking, but gnosiamancy was the only school whose Alignment could be increased purely with theory.
That didn’t stop him from sketching some of the most interesting spellcircles on paper. Light matrices are so hard… The Empyrean almost sighed. Light was his second highest Alignment, but what that meant was that his Light comprehension was barely higher than a normal person. His other Alignments were so atrophied that if he weren’t a mage specialized in knowledge, he might never have been able to comprehend them.
Once the lecture was over, a lot of mages started pouring out with hands on their heads. He, too, had a headache.
“May I speak with you?” A voice whispered behind him.
The weight of the voice was so heavy in the Cognition that Nolotl didn’t need to turn to know the source.
“What can I do for you, tower master?” The Empyrean bowed at the projection of Xanax.
“I am inclined to say what can I do for you, Empyrean.” The old man chuckled. “I am not wrong in presuming that you will attempt something during the total alignment, will you?”
“I do intend to perform some astromancy rituals from my homeland, yes.” The novice gnosiamancer – comparatively speaking to the man before him – spoke.
“That was all I needed to hear.” The projection crossed his arms and nodded with a satisfied hum. “I do not suppose you need my warnings, but heed them, nonetheless. I, myself, cannot state how dangerous rituals under the coming alignment will be. These are unprecedented levels of alignment.”
“I will take every security measure I can.” Nolotl confirmed. “Though I will perhaps need some assistance.”
“You are always free to invoke the privileges of your title, young Empyrean.” Xanax added. “Do note that they will disappear once you are no longer a student of the academy, and you have yet to use them in any meaningful way.”
“I’d rather not abuse them.”
“What is the point of power without being able to abuse it a little?” The old man giggled.
“Is that not a bad lesson to teach to a young mage?” The Empyrean frowned.
“Oh well, if everyone does it, then you are the odd one out.” The great mage casually shrugged. “But everything in moderation. Both power and its use.”
And with that, Xanax the Wise’s projection puffed out of existence. In one instant he was there, the next he wasn’t. Knowledge truly was faster than light.
