Rain Harlow
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Chapter 19: A Shark or a Donkey
🕑 Added 2023-07-19 05:14:18 +0000 UTCIt was an eerie, uneasy period right after her refusal to play ball with Greizer. She blotted him out, blotted the mirror out, and simply waited, putting all her cards on silence, ambiguity, and her sanctuary’s literal sanctity — it was clear they could get to her mentally no matter what, but just how much they could reach in or glean… Well, she was supposed to be immortal, after all.
If those crusty old wizards can do something then they need to prove it! I don’t buy it.
The portals, the mirrors, were extensions of her senses, but not like true parts of her body. She’d had one shattered on her while right in front of her, after all, and it had mostly just been rather offensive. And blacking them out had to be like a blindfold or earplugs… she guessed. In truth, she hadn’t been sure if it was permanent when she did it, but she knew it wasn't immediately afterward.
So she waited. And waited… and waited. And with each agonizing moment, she grew in confidence. Felt a cautious relief.
She resisted distracting Bast, figuring he’d have to be using his full focus to deal with the bearded codger. Bast suddenly zoning out would be a terrible clue to give to someone so observant and suspicious.
So she just sent a vague sense of support, and further encouragement that she was okay like a ‘thumbs up’, so subtle she wasn’t entirely sure he’d feel it.
After untold minutes passed, she barked a sudden victorious chirp out loud. “Ha! You were bluffing, bitch. I knew it! Nice try.” She totally knew.
After a brief pause of holding her breath and looking around after that, she said, “Sys, how did he see me? Or, how could he see me? And know what he did even when I left? Hypothetically? You know what I’m asking.”
All magic or ability use that alters something in the material realm, even energetically, leaves a vague aura for some time after, that can be read with the right abilities, subject to user attentiveness/alertness and a difference in the Effective Level of the effect, i.e. a higher level user will find it easier to notice and read a lower level aura.
The basic time that an aura is detectable after deactivation is equal to the time that the effect existed. Levels greater than or less than interact in additive multiples or fractions, i.e. a level 2 aura reading would be able to read for double the normal time (then x3, x4; x1/2, x1/3, so on).
Aura intensity begins fading in a percentile proportion immediately after deactivation.
“So it’s from me appearing in the mirror. Fuck! This doesn’t answer why he noticed me passively. Or, at least, the aura passively.”
The System cannot answer this question.
“Hmm. It could be the difference in levels. Or a perk, or… it could be anything. But, can I ask: you do know why, correct? It’s just a cheat to answer me?”
The System facilitates everything within it and there are no unknowns to effects within the System. The exact cosmic manipulation methodology of the System is proprietary.
“But I can still spy without an aura, right? Or apparently tipping off someone with whatever Greizer has as an ability.”
[Mirror Sense] does not leave an aura, being an ability that simply absorbs information, though your presence can be detected actively while close. [Mirror Communication] leaves an aura.
“Ah, right. One-way to two-way.” I should have been more cautious around these guys. They’re nosy as hell, too. What happens when they figure me out one day? What can they do then? Can they… hurt me somehow? Even if not Greizer, these Seven Sages might. And even if they can’t, they’ll hurt my Followers. My chances.
She pondered it in silent contemplation for a while, then felt pressure from Bast’s mind in prayer. “Goddess Samantha, I pray you are well.” He seemed subdued and diminished, not at all his usual bright self. “I am in my bedroom, alone now.”
“I am, Lord Bast. What is the fallout? What did Greizer do?”
“He cast a slurry of high-level spells, but they seemed to frustrate him on some level, even in his stoic, ‘wise’ sageliness. He was left stroking his beard as if he were pondering a puzzle. He began questioning me about the mirror. Why I’d taken it. I just told him I fancied it, I was drawn to it. He accepted that quickly, I think…”
“Because he believes there’s a spirit inside the mirror.” Sammy felt a certain satisfaction and relief that she’d flummoxed the old coot.
“Yes, he said as much, and that he had to ‘confiscate’ the mirror to take with him back to the capital. That it was haunted and needed to be studied, then inevitably purified before it can be returned. You can bet it’ll be enchanted heavily by then.”
Sammy’s relief vanished. Studied. Purified. “What exactly could they learn or do to it?”
“I don’t know, Your Majesty.” He was frustrated and almost morose. “Purification would destroy a minor spirit inhabiting an object, but that’s not you. Hopefully, that’s… well, that’s as much as I know. I guess it depends on how high up the whole matter goes?”
“Likely. Bast, did he snoop around more? Th- the painting?”
“Yes, he lifted the curtain, but he was disgusted immediately and brushed it off, paying it no further mind.”
“So you drawing a dirty painting of me instead of respectful was strangely of benefit…”
“It’s not dirty! It’s entirely respectful!”
“But he still saw my face. If he would even remember it.”
“The sages sadly have long and excellent memories,” Bast sent with thick bitterness. “Perhaps you should consider a disguise, now.”
Sammy didn’t respond immediately. She would, if only to protect Bast while he remained in a position of jeopardy. Not that it mattered for her core Followers in private, though.
“Bast, what are you going to do? Can you get out of becoming one of them, now?”
“Yes. By fleeing my very home.” His misery was in each communicated word. “I’m not under any illusions that Greizer is going to be denied what he wants. Poor Mother. She’ll be crying every night, either way.”
Sammy felt that twist deeply. The ‘leaving home’ feeling, the long-ago separation from her own mother, on top of her present circumstances. “Will you flee, then?”
“Of course I’ll flee! I’ll not suffer their banal indoctrinations even to the pain of death! Better a runaway fool than a wise cretin! I am no ascetic. They call themselves wizards, phau! They’re monks.”
“Well, they call themselves sages…”
“You know what I mean!”
“Right. So, just as an idea… if I can facilitate you being able to… see and speak with your mother when you’re away, and if we can ensure it’s safe… I will. But it’s up to you. And I haven’t tried anything like that yet.”
There was an exceptionally long pause of communicative darkness. Then, Bast sent, “I wouldn’t want to endanger my mother. But… thank you.”
“Of course. When will you go?”
“I have time. I doubt the Savant will think it some sort of immediate necessity. There are channels and protocols to follow, affairs to get in order. He can’t just grab me by the ear and take me with him. He should be leaving soon, actually.”
“That’s a relief, at least.”
“I will make sure to get the other runebooks to you at a later date, either arranged here or I’ll bring them with me.”
“Have you decided where you’re going?”
“Not exactly…”
“I have Followers elsewhere. Baron Orswyth for one. And others in Caneboro.”
“Interesting… I know his Barony. I think I met him when I was a boy. I hear he’s a good man.”
“He is. He-... well, we’ll speak on it another time, I suppose. I need to seek counsel about what’s happened. So we’ll talk soon.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He sent an image of him taking and kissing her hand, somehow. “Until next time.”
Sammy was not sure why it even surprised her anymore. “Presumptuous, even in prayer.”
“Well, you’ve allowed me to make my own religion out of this relationship, after all.”
“Something I’ll never live down.” She pushed away anything further.
Sammy found herself with her ‘kissed hand’ held out in front of her as if it had really been taken. She stared, then immediately put it back on the chair arm and shook herself. Stupid!
She needed advice, needed some kind of experienced perspective on what happened, and the best would almost certainly be a certain goddess she’d met recently.
“Redberry!” Sammy prayed. “I need your advice! I had an… incident.” She made sure to lace it with her very authentic distress.
Redberry responded immediately, her presence filling Sammy’s mind even clearer than the first time, like Sammy was looking right into her eyes. “You have a strong faith in me already, Moth. And unfounded.” A sigh. “What is it?”
“It’s the Dominion…” Sammy related the events quickly, leaving out the dirty painting, finishing with, “... now I’m left unsure what they can do, or what I can.”
The nature goddess had been listening quietly. She had yet another sigh, this time exceptionally drawn out. “I just told you to be cautious, Moth. It seems you cannot help yourself, as usual. Not even for a spell of time.”
“I’m sorry, okay?! Wait, was that a pun- never mind. Do you know what they can do? The sages. Could they reach me?”
A long pause, another where Sammy wasn’t sure Redberry wouldn't disconnect. “The issue is that I do not have mirrors. They can’t harm me here directly, though they’d love to. At the highest of their levels… the attentions of the Seven… I would fear what they could do through any connection. A psychic connection. Do you know what can be done through an avatar?”
Yet another pause, but this one was laced with emotion. Pain and offense — rage — at being harmed. Something maddening within shakily pushed away, shunted aside.
Bitterly, Redberry sent, “I can tell you absolutely that through an avatar, they can target the weakness we cannot shed. Harm us through it. It is the weakness that is us, young goddess. The psyche, the mind, the will and consciousness. You have no body to kill, you are immortal in that way, but are you you any longer when the mind has been twisted?”
Sammy couldn’t speak. It was all coming together to her, what happened to Redberry, why she was like she was. In the war she’d fought in, she’d taken a wound, a terrible trauma that was not physical but mental, of which that scar was a brand, a symbol. The statue to her she’d seen, it had no scar. It was not how she was.
Redberry had been wounded and scarred by the Seven, and she’d hid in terror after. Perhaps had not even formed an avatar again. Shunned attention and withdrawn to safety.
“What their vile power is like now,” Redberry continued with a building hatred, “after I ripped apart the body of their greatest and most ambitious for what he did to me, after they were shown the force of nature when it is tested… after its fury was unleashed-”
The goddess was seething stronger and stronger in a rapid crescendo, and Sammy felt like she was being swallowed up by a mass like a jungle exploding out of the ground to cover the world, and at its heart and center was birthing something terrible and monstrous and full of rage-
“Redberry, please!” Sammy implored.
The jungle rapidly wilted, and the power died down, as Redberry simply went silent and stopped her train of thought, leaving a hollow space and the echo of her own fear. Finally, she continued, “After that… I don’t know. My memory… is hazy until I... never mind. But they are surely dangerous.”
With an all too nonchalant sigh, Redberry sent, “Moreover, I fear your domain and powers may leave you altogether more… vulnerable.”
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