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Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (132/?)
🕑 Added 2025-06-08 17:18:31 +0000 UTCDragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30, Emma and Thacea’s Room. Local Time: 1600 Hours.
Emma
I wanted to take back my words.
I desperately wanted to roll back time, even if it was only a few seconds, just so that I could stop my big mouth from running itself into this quagmire.
But I couldn’t… so I tried the next best thing.
I took a deep breath with the intent to apologize, to interrupt, to desperately shift course from a discussion that would specifically dig into Thacea’s insecurities for my sake.
However, as quickly as I’d formed a coherent string of arguments, I stopped.
I felt a lump forming in my throat where a wordy apology lay in waiting, my eyes having locked with Thacea’s, and finding behind those sharp pupils a commanding presence far beyond what I was used to.
There was an… authority in the princess’ eyes. One that I reluctantly deferred to, either out of respect for her own commitment, her own agency, or simply because I realized that resisting Thacea’s will in this case was both futile and disrespectful in and of itself.
So I relented, watching the princess as she wordlessly swooped her winged arms to the sides — bathing the room in that three dimensional weather map of dynamically flowing manastreams.
Nothing happened beyond this for the first few moments, save for the increasing complexity in the lines, squiggles, and directional ‘arrows’ present in the mana weather systems around us.
It was as if the princess wanted to hold off from the big reveal, almost like she was buying time and focusing her attention on the innocuous world around us for as long as she could.
I could tell, from the expression she wore, that she was… worried.
And for a moment, I felt a strong urge to finally speak up; not to deter or urge her away from her intent… but instead, to provide her with what I assumed was something she needed to hear.
“I stand by what I said on that first morning, Thacea.” I blurted out confidently, not allowing self-doubt or second-guesses to color the assuredness of my voice. “There’s nothing you can show me that’ll change my opinions on you. Not ‘taint’, not ‘miasma’, or anything else. And this isn’t just because I haven’t seen that aspect of you. It’s… it’s because I’ve already seen, heard, and experienced everything I’ve needed to. And if some scary-looking shadow changes that? Well… that just means I’m probably not cut out to be anything more than a forced acquaintance.” I spoke firmly at first, before rattling on faster and faster, eventually causing the princess’ worried expression to shift into something more resembling a calmer, albeit wary and polite smile.
Suddenly, and without any verbal prompting, a vague outline started forming around Thacea.
It started small — these wobbly yet bold lines that echoed her silhouette — but slowly grew to encompass just about the same space Thalmin’s ‘aura’ did.
However, given the objective and monochrome nature of Thacea’s visual representation of mana, it almost looked like a sketchy black and white cartoon border had been drawn around her — mimicking the sketchy hand-drawn nature of cel-shaded animations.
There were no signs of anything amiss, no shapes or patterns that struck me as threatening, let alone dread-inducing.
If anything, it looked completely underwhelming.
That was… until the princess closed her eyes, and allowed the silhouette to change.
It was subtle at first, small undulations in her outlined silhouette, almost like little tendrils lapping at the local manastreams.
However, unlike Thalmin’s or Ilunor’s interactions with these errant currents, the effects of Thacea’s aura on the invisible world around her was strikingly different — as the calm and steady flow of lines suddenly erupted into a jumbled ball of haphazard scribbles. Slow and meandering currents quickly rushed to fill in the place of what was now a broken stream, only to meet their dooms as the effects of this… destruction compounded, eventually growing to envelope the space around her.
This cyclonic pattern continued, faster and faster still, until almost every single manastream — from the meandering to the mighty — came to swirl around Thacea. The princess and her aura acting almost like the eye of a grayscale, stenciled storm.
Then, as suddenly as it began, all of it came to an end; the tendrils recessed, returning to a now unstable, undulating mass that enveloped the princess.
“This… this is the extent of… how shall I put it… a meltdown of control. This is the raw and unmitigated potential of what a tainted manafield — an aura — can do.” Thacea managed out through a steady yet nervous breath.
Silence threatened to fill in the uncertain moments that followed.
But I didn’t let it.
Instead, I simply took a step forward, poking at the manastreams that’d returned to their natural flows.
“I gotta say, Thacea. Hearing about your alternative magical abilities was one thing, but actually being able to visualize it?” I paused for dramatic effect, the princess’ features darkening just as quickly. “It’s frickin’ metal as all heck!” I smiled widely, cocking my waist to the right whilst casually clutching my left.
The darkness from her face faded, instead, replaced by a genuine look of shock and confusion — as if she expected a vastly different reaction.
Her beak opened for a response, her eyes filled with a strong sense of… doubt. One that quickly evolved into disbelief, uncertainty, and then finally a wordless response.
The world once more changed.
It started subtly, the princess taking in a deep breath as the various dashed, segmented, and squiggly lines that made up the manastreams around us were suddenly filled in with color.
Slowly but surely, I watched as the world lit up into a veritable technicolor masterpiece, complete with vibrant pastel borders framing and lining the deep warm tones of the various individual streams of mana.
The world felt… alive, confusing, but rich in a way I couldn’t really put to words.
There was almost a living quality about all of it, as if the manastreams themselves pulsed with some unseen heartbeat, flowing to the tempo of some grand conductor.
I couldn’t tell if Thacea had noticed my sudden infatuation with this artistic rendition of the world, but it quickly became clear to me that she waited until the last possible second to reveal her artistic rendition of her place in the grand scheme of things.
The first thing I noticed was a creeping shadow, one that pulsed to a different beat, tempo, and rhythm to the world around it.
Then, it was the sharp and unabashed recoiling of the colorful world it came into contact with, as if reality itself was refusing to acknowledge, accept, or even interact with such an alien presence in its space.
This prompted me to turn towards the source of the growing darkness, my eyes quickly meeting what I could only describe as a jet-black aura that stood starkly behind and around the princess, enveloping her in an ominous cloak of darkness.
There was still an indisputably avian outline to this shadow, one that contrasted sharply with the warm and vibrant colors of the world… but it was fleeting, as if it took active measures to keep it in check.
“A stark, colorless, and minimal approach to the world was ideal when introducing manastreams.” Thacea began, her voice scored with a frustrated, abashed tempo. “But your reactions have made it clear that there are limits to its effectiveness.” The princess paused, gesturing around her with two wings hanging limp by her sides. “And so, now we stand in the shadow of my shame and affliction.” Thacea held her head low, her features stiffening as she continued. “Forgive the artistic embellishments, but I believe this to be the best means of conveying exactly what I am.”
A starkly different Thacea stood before me now, and it wasn’t because of the darkness, the aura, or anything else, no.
Instead, it was the way she carried herself, her wariness, and the despondency that drenched her voice.
I took some steps forward, wading through the exaggeratingly saccharine world and towards the darkness that felt more beguiling than the artificial niceties of the world around it.
This took Thacea by surprise, her features widening with worry, then confusion, before finally ending in a series of stammered breaths.
“W-were my projections not visualized? Did you not see the—”
This time around, I interjected, but not via words or speeches.
Instead, I placed the princess’ hands on my own, squeezing them softly in the process.
“Yeah, I see it. The big dark scary shadow, right?”
Thacea’s eyes widened, her gaze darting this way and that as if still out of some sense of disbelief.
“So you do see it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you still so… nonchalant about all of this? Surely there has to be something that beckons a sense of—”
“Fear? Disgust? Terror? Revulsion?” I offered, cocking my head in the process.
“Yes.” Thacea acknowledged plainly.
“Listen, princess, If there’s anything even close to disgust that I feel, it’s at the overly saccharine world around us. Not you, not your aura, your shadow, or anything else.” I stated firmly, locking eyes with the princess. “I see nothing wrong here.” I spoke through a confident smile. “If anything, I see beauty in the dark.”
Those latter few words lit something behind the princess’ eyes.
Whether it was her recalling it as a direct allusion to last week’s statements on the beauty of space, or whether it was something I was missing entirely, I did not know.
But I didn’t much care to look deeper into it, so long as it at least helped her, and so long as I was able to act as a friendly face in a sea of unwarranted derision.
The princess moved to speak, opening her beak… only to close it prematurely.
This pattern continued, several times, leaving only silence in the wake of a proper response.
It was clear something was happening behind those intelligent and thoughtful eyes, but whether or not I’d be privy to it was another matter entirely.
Eventually however, I did get a response, as the darkness eventually came to envelope the room, leaving only broken patches of color to float listlessly in a black void — looking eerily similar to colorful supernovae held within the vacuum of space.
“Thank you, Emma.” Thacea uttered out softly, curling her features into a genuine smile.
I felt the princess’ hands shift in my own grip, as her talons moved to gently lock between my fingers.
I reciprocated, as I now found both of our hands locked in a gentle grip.
We stood there for a while, each of us either lacking the words or the will to push through them. But despite the silence, it felt like we’d spoken leagues just by presence and eye contact alone.
This silent moment of self-reflection… or whatever it was, was unceremoniously interrupted by a third party, however.
Though the identity of which was most certainly not at all expected.
[Secondary Priority Reminder: Request further intel from designated POI. Subject: Aberrant Mana Signature “29+1”.]
The peacefulness of the dark ended unceremoniously, as I was pulled out of this unplanned exchange by the blunt and unfeeling demands of a planned yet unwelcome reminder.
“Now of all times?” I spoke under a muted mic.
“Statistical models indicate that the conversation’s subject matter to be the most pertinent instance to designated reminder.”
“Leaving no room for sentimentality or subject-appropriateness…” I mumbled under a frustrated breath, leaving the EVI to merely blip out of existence.
I took a moment to compose myself, to balance the demands of two worlds before finally breaking from Thacea’s grip.
This resulted in the darkness around us slowly receding, as the world once more returned to its unaltered form.
“I… have something to ask you, Thacea.” I managed out as kindly as possible, garnering a curious cock of the avinor’s head.
“Yes, Emma?”
“I… I know now is probably the least appropriate time for this, but it’s also kinda really appropriate too given we’re on the subject anyways.” I began through a rambly breath, prompting the princess to narrow her gaze the further along I went with this. “Now, I know it’s probably a touchy subject to broach, but I was wondering if I could touch on a few instances of your alternative magical abilities that have left my sensors at a loss.”
Impatience grew within the princess’ eyes, though she tempered it all the same with a kind and understanding visage. “I am willing to address any queries you have, yes.” She reassured me.
“Right, well… I was just hoping if you could corroborate something for me.” I paused, as the EVI conveniently brought up the two specific instances for me to reference. “My sensors noted a distinct form of mana radiation burst, a… concentrated elevation of background radiation that didn’t conform to the known 29 types that my people have discovered; once during orientation, and another during the souvenir shop outing. I won’t comment on what people had to say about it, but I was just curious if these two instances were in-line with your use of what I’ll dub as, ‘Alternative Magic?’”
Thacea clenched her eyes closed for a moment, taking in a deep breath as she placed a single hand on her forehead. “I… admire your attempts to redefine what is, and has been, a universally recognized term, Emma.”
“It’s not so universal when at least one out of a million realms refuses to acknowledge it.” I retorted fiercely, causing the princess to once more break out of that shell, if only to look at me with an expression of both shock and appreciation.
“Technically, yes.” She nodded. “But that doesn’t change the state of affairs. What you call Alternative Magic, is in fact — Taint magic. There are… other terms for it, but this is the most recognized out of all. But to answer your question… yes. Yes, those were such instances wherein my control faltered at the hands of either overwhelming circumstances or targetted assaults against the masking of my own manafield.”
I nodded warily at that, processing all that the princess had to say, as the EVI beeped affirmatively at what had been simmering in the background for weeks now.
“So… the extra, anomalous, and undocumented + 1 form of mana radiation—”
“Isn’t mana in the traditional sense, no.” Thacea interjected. “It’s distinct, processed not from primavalic energies or converted from any of the existing manaforms. It is… in effect, a sort of l&2%3plwm [ERROR T-201A. 82% Approx: dark/void power/force/energy], one that is prevalent in certain adjacent realms, and less prevalent in others.”
I nodded slowly, resting the ‘chin’ of my helmet within my fingers.
“So it’s a completely distinct order of magic altogether.” I reasoned.
“Correct.”
“And that’s probably why we haven’t classified it, since it’s something completely distinct from traditional mana.” I continued, as a hundred and one more questions came flooding it at this revelation. “And is the ability to perform alternative magic rare?”
“You mean to say… my affliction, yes?”
I narrowed my eyes at that, shaking my head in the process. “It’s less of an affliction and simply a unique permutation of an existing ability in my book, Thacea.” I quickly threw my two cents in.
“Regardless of how one looks at it, the history of my affliction is well-documented, but not widely nor publicly known. Though from what I’ve been able to gather, the affliction runs in certain bloodlines. Some more strongly than others.” The princess took a deep breath, her shoulders drooping if only for a moment. “It just so happens that it seems to run particularly strongly in the Avinor Royal Family.”
My mind raced with questions, all of which however faltered at the emotional cost of pressing further.
It was because of that, that I chose to disengage, turning towards the EVI in order to place another reminder for a more emotionally tactful time.
Though despite that, it’d be Thacea this time around to continue the conversation, as she addressed me with a concern not for herself, but my well being.
“I must ask, Emma. Considering your people have prepared your armor for resistance against all forms of known mana… how hasn’t my taint magic affected you?”
A silence quickly followed, as I placed my ‘forehead’ against my palm. “Honestly, Thacea? I don’t have an answer for that yet. It’s my running theory that the exotic materials comprising my armor’s protective barriers somehow have the added bonus of being naturally resistant against it. That, or there’s some sort of a cumulative effect against it, considering the layering process involved with the mana-resistant material.” I shrugged. “Whatever the case may be, it’s clear that this thirtieth form of mana isn’t affecting me, so you don’t have to worry about it, Thacea.” I offered warmly, garnering a reluctantly accepting nod from Thacea.
“In any case… I think it’d be best if I stopped bothering you about—”
[Secondary Priority Reminder: Request further intel from designated POI. Subject: Aberrant Mana Signature “Wind Chimes”.]
My whole body flinched as I was reminded of the weird… chimes that more or less put everything into question.
Because if the armor was truly resistant to ‘taint’ magic, and if the EVI wasn’t able to corroborate any external auditory data even resembling the chimes I heard, then exactly how did that whole thing—
“You have one final question to ask, don’t you, Emma?” Thacea interjected, pulling me right back down to earth.
“Y-yeah. But I wouldn’t want to bother you anymore about—”
“If it bothers you so much, then we might as well get it over with.” The princess offered with a sigh.
“R-right, sorry Thacea. But yeah. Do you remember my weird interactions with Mal’tory’s portal?”
“The one that sent you to the forests near Elaseer?”
“Yeah, that one. Well, during my ‘trip’ through it, I heard these weird… chimes. Like, wind chimes, echoing louder and louder, making it feel like my eardrums were about to burst. However, my sensors didn’t detect any actual noise outside of my armor… only a marked elevation of the thirtieth manatype. I was wondering if you knew anything about them?”
Thacea’s expressions were telling… in that she scrunched her features in confusion and quiet contemplation.
“I can’t say I’ve heard of such a phenomenon, Emma.” The princess admitted. “But if what you say is true…”
“... then there may be a lot more to this whole +1 business than I initially hypothesized, yeah.” I reasoned with a sigh. “Or… y’know, maybe I could’ve just been losing my mind in there.” I offered jokingly.
“Another distinct possibility, yes.” Thacea acknowledged with every ounce of seriousness seen in her previous responses.
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence there, princess.” I chided teasingly.
“It takes a level of dubious judgement to have accepted this mission given the risk, Emma. What’s more, it takes an entire lapse in rationality to have accepted my afflictions with such cavalier disregard.” She responded, reciprocating the teasing tone of voice in her own restrained way.
“Hey, every princess needs a knight, right? I might as well apply for that job if no one else is looking.” I once more teased, leading to some bashful chuckles to drown out the precariousness of both of our situations.
=====
Dragon’s Heart Tower, Common Room, Local Time: 1700 Hours.
Qiv’Ratom
I held my head low, keeping an expression of polite anticipation, all in a show of deference that continued for what to the uninitiated would feel like eternity, but to those experienced in the art of politicking had become an extension of polite conversation.
“My deepest and sincerest gratitudes, Senior-Lord.” I spoke softly, deferentially, holding within my hand the fruits of my labor.
“I receive and I acquiesce, the rites of the subordinate to the superior, Senior-Lord.” I continued a mere fifteen minutes later, having gone through the same song and dance to the second-year elf who shooed me off in a way only a senior-year could.
“The fruits of your experiences shall nourish the years to follow, Senior-Lord.” I once more repeated, going through the same song and dance as I’d done nearly ten times now.
By the end of the mixer, I’d received an entire table-full of notes.
Notes accumulated over the course of not just the prior year, but information, experiences, and insights stretching back decades, centuries… and perhaps even millennia.
I eventually found myself in one of the secluded private offices of the common room, surrounded by the likes of the conniving Rostario, the stalwart Uven, and the ever-sharp Airit.
“The Quest for the Everblooming Blossom… is now but a directive to be fulfilled by a carefully laid set of instructions.” I beamed pridefully, garnering a series of polite nods and affirmative claps from the rest of the group.
“Ever the charmer, my lord.” Rostario bowed deeply.
“Quite an impressive display of political acumen, Lord Ratom.” Airit beamed brightly.
“Indeed… and with this information… we can now act to achieve all there is to accomplish in record time, no?” Uven spoke slowly, methodically, taking into consideration each individual annotated document, moving each around in a manner that better suited our quest.
“All we need now is to contact the guild—” I placed my hand on the first pile of papers. “—where we now have names, recommendations, and figures on who and what to hire.” I breathed in deeply, rapidly pointing at the rest of the piles Uven had carefully organized. “Then, we hire our means of conveyance, followed by food rations, and a private chef should we deem it necessary. Following which, we shall hire a local apothecary, along with one of their apprentices, in order to better isolate this blossom amidst the sea of lookalikes.”
More claps arose as I now turned to each and every endearing gaze. “While much of this will be covered on Tuesday’s orientation… the personal notes and post-quest summations courtesy of the upper yearsmen will aid us dearly. So, with all that being said, which of you wishes to join me?”
All three hands went up, prompting me to once more sigh, holding a smile in the process. “Ah, what a group I ended up in… overachievers, all of us.” I announced pridefully with a confident chuckle. “Alright then, let’s go with… you!”
=====
Nexus. The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Ambassadorial District. Local Time: 1900 Hours.
Emma
“So… are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked the brisk-walking lupinor, though the only answer I received was an excited chuckle.
“You’ll see, Emma.” He urged, as we finally made our way through a particularly wide avenue and towards what I could only describe as a carriage repair depot.
However, just beyond it, was something more distinctly medieval. Indeed, given all of the enchanted flair — from the signs to the lights — one might even hazard to call it fantastical.
Though the fantastical elements didn’t end at the excessive use of enchanted items… because what lay within blew all of the magical flourishes in front right out of the water.
Within the tall and open front-facing marble facades… was a stable.
A fancier stable than what could be found on most farms, for sure. But a stable all the same.
Though the animals within definitely carried most of the surprise and shock I currently felt.
From pegasi to unicorns, to griffons and hippogriffs, there was literally a fairy tale’s worth of creatures out on display here.
My excitement peaked as Thalmin was approached by a particularly colorfully dressed elf. The powdered wig-wearing gentleman quickly tipping his exaggeratingly tall hat as he quickly introduced this place as—
“Lord Mountanblueau’s Miracle Mounts! I am decidedly not Lord Mountanblueau, but merely his hired representative, Moracle Monru! To what pleasure do I owe your presence, your majesty, graces, lords, and or ladies?”
“I am Prince Havenbrock of Havenbrockrealm. I wish to peruse your inventory of available mounts, good sir.”
“You mean… our miracle mounts, your majesty!” He bowed deeply in deference despite the obvious degree of ‘disrespect’ incurred.
Though it was clear Thalmin merely played along, gesturing for the man to take us deep into the stables.
To its credit, the whole place was eerily sterile. There was none of the less glamorous side of animal husbandry here, only clean and well-kept sections where each animal was put on display; almost like the showroom of a car dealership.
“So… may I inquire exactly what your majesty wishes for? Perhaps one of our top-of-the-line, pure-bred, flight-capable mounts?”
“Oh, nothing like that. Going through Nexian bureaucracy for flight permissions is just not my cup of tea.” Thalmin offered, deftly avoiding the cost issue in lieu of convenience.
“Ah! Of course, of course! Then perhaps Hippocamp or Kelpie might be more your leaning?” The colorful elf continued. “Although I would go for the kelpie if you wish to go for the land and sea, for the hippocamp is more suited for aquatic—”
“I require nothing so… specialized nor versatile, my good sir. Indeed, what I require is simply a strong, resilient, hardy land animal.”
“Ah. Perhaps a unicorn is more to your liking?” The elf quickly gestured to a unicorn, one that quickly reared to its hind legs, letting out a series of otherworldly neighs as it did so.
“I see no reason why I would need the magical acumen of a unicorn, I’m afraid.” Thalmin conceded.
“Ah… so… you wish simply for a horse, your majesty?”
“Yes. But your best horse, please.”
The formerly enthusiastic salesman just about deflated at that point.
Though he quickly regained his composure, calling up an apprentice who handed him a clipboard full of parchment.
“If you would be so kind, your majesty?” He urged, gesturing for Thalmin to lead the way as we approached yet another section of the stable.
There, we found what appeared to be just normal looking horses. Each of them was distinguished by either armor or some other form of covering, as if that was needed to add a level of flair to them that didn’t come naturally from their form.
Thalmin took his time here, inspecting every horse with a series of mana radiation spikes.
He spent about a half-hour here, causing the elf salesman to slowly swelter in the heat of this section of the stables.
Eventually however, the prince landed on a particularly boring-looking brown horse, one that stared at him with a level of boredom only Ilunor could rival.
“I’ll take this one.” The prince demanded, garnering a firm yet sweat-laden nod from Moracle.
“Excellent choice, your majesty! Now… would you like horse armor with that?”
=====
The Next Day
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, Armorer’s Workshop. Local Time: 1700 Hours.
Emma
[Quest for the Everblooming Blossom… T-Minus 20 Hours, and counting.]
[Exoreality Contact Deadline… T-Minus 14 Days and counting.]
Vanavan’s class consisted of yet again another rundown on the principles of mana. Except this time, we at least had some constructive information on the first manatype.
However, despite being active, awake, and in perfect note-taking condition, much of the information I absorbed had quickly been pushed to the back of my mind, in lieu of far more pertinent issues like the one I was about to deal with here and now.
“Cooooome innnnnnnnnn~” I heard the armorer bombastically announce through a sing-song cadence, one that penetrated the thick double doors of the armory, leading to its sudden and abrupt opening.
I stepped in, marching excitedly towards Sorecar, and more specifically… the plinth he’d plopped down smack dab in the center of the workshop.
Atop it was a dull cloth obscuring the silhouetted shape of a motorcycle’s bodywork.
Though there was one thing that the cloth couldn’t hide from me…
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 180% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
… and that was the mana radiation signatures fuming out from underneath it.
“....Sorecar? What did you do?”
The clangorous laugh of a plate-mailed poltergeist who seemed far too happy with himself was my immediate response. “Nothing you wouldn’t expect from a master craftsman, my dear Emma Booker!”
Comments
CTsquad501st
I feel like that has been rather obvious for a long time now.
Michael Halpern
Theory, have the enchantment on for rides into town and such, turn it off when reasonably safe and doing something for class and/or academic performance.
Thaumiel
Man, Emma and Thacea are Gayyyyyy. Good for them
