"The Gathering" - Chapter 11

Magic Works

Eden exhaled slowly, letting out her breath in a steadied measured flow. In her mind, the pattern she wanted was slowly taking shape, slowly coalescing from the abstract concepts she had laboured for weeks. It was never an easy undertaking creating your own specialised spell, and Eden had always wanted to have something in her arsenal that no opponent could figure out a counter to. What had began as a germ of an idea had dogged her persistently since she first stumbled upon it after visiting Nikolai at the infirmary months ago. She had toyed with the concept of combining hypnosis and false memories approximately a year back, fascinated by Jasper’s ability to induce phantasms and illusions into another person’s mind—or any group of people’s, as Nikolai had theorised.

Not for the first time, Eden remembered Nikolai’s intimation of just how powerful Jasper was. Both the telepath and Prime Andra, their superior--another telepath of formidable talents--had stated time and again that Jasper’s power signature registered as immeasurable and off the charts. The latter statement had been a direct quote from Vincent.


Eden had never been included in the many mental trainings that Nikolai had run with Jasper. She had only completed the basic, as part of the induction that trained her how to protect and shield her thoughts from cursory scans--assuming that she hadn’t protected, or managed to protect, herself with a spell. She knew that Nikolai had helped Jasper in controlling his powers when they first met almost six years ago. She also knew that Nikolai would take a leave of absence for several months while he kept track of the empath, and will routinely engage Jasper in training matches to gauge his growth and mastery. Each time he returned, the summary of his report had been the same: 

Perfected control. Growth and mastery increasing. Class level: above 10.


Being one of Prime Andra’s special operatives, Eden had been given access to those reports, and she had remembered that each of these training matches will also catalogue the skill-set Jasper had mastered and how they are rated by the Academy. She spooled back in her mind, trying to recall what she could of the catalogues of skills Jasper had mastered: Emotion sensing, manipulation, broadcasting and negation; Hypnosis and hypnotic patterns and suggestions; Id insinuation--overriding a person’s subconscious and replacing or reworking them; Memory manipulation; Sensory amplification, broadcasting, negation and manipulation; Psi-sensitive--able to detect, broadcast and read surface thoughts; Creation of mental concepts and illusions …


Eden was familiar enough with mentalists and the Academy to realise that each of these skills would take at least a year of intensive study at the Academy, and another six months to another year to even understand and employ it in practice. All the more reason why mentalists start their training young. 


And now, they discovered that the sister is not without her own powers. The witch reflected that she would keep a close eye on the brunette despite her personal antipathy.


One wonders if she realises yet that her force fields could be used offensively.


With the attempt on Prime Andra’s life a month ago, Eden had decided on her course. The would-be assassins had been mind-blanked; her acquaintance with both mentalists had familiarised the concept to her. A carefully conditioned combination of hypnosis and suggestion will place the subject into an automated state—logical and motor functions will continue uninterrupted, with the subject not deviating from their normal personality or daily habits or even personal idiosyncrasies. When certain carefully staged events or conditions are met, their minds will shift into a fugue state where the previously placed suggested actions will take over and gain precedence until it has been executed.


Eden shivered inwardly at the implications of living automatons attempting to blindly achieve a given directive conjured within her. It seemed to her to be so arbitrary, not to mention wasteful. Just how great are the Loriens’ resources they could afford to gamble away lives just like that? she wondered to herself. Despite her stand that magical force trumps psychic abilities, she allowed a rueful admission—reluctantly—that if things boil down to a direct fight, it will usually be a careful execution of tactics that will decide the outcome. 


As she focused her concentration, the pattern had finally formed into the eldritch runes she was waiting for. With the images of the runes in her mind, she picked up her stylus and began to trace them out on the table of soft wax in front of her, each rune which will comprise the dimensions of three-by-three inches. 


Agnetha. For governing the mind. A scalloped semicircle was etched out on the malleable surface of the wax.


Idril. The will of the caster. An isosceles triangle, one side traced thicker than the other, followed; spaced a finger’s breadth away from the previous rune.


Kiribath. The image to be imposed. The rune began as a stem—as same thickness—etched gently on the thick side of idril, at a right angle meeting a crossbar half an inch from the stem.


Lirual. A thin column with a leg angling out from the middle and forming a gentle curve upwards to form a lateral line of the same height as its originating stem the binder rune was formed another finger’s breadth away from idril and kiribath, completing the spell. 


Eden lifted her stylus from the wax tablet, studying her work, checking for any flaws in the formation of the runes. There was none. Satisfied, she picked up a thin plank of wood and placed it at the top edges of the wax tablet where it was cradled by a wooden brace on all four sides. Once the edge of the wooden squeegee was even with the surface of the brace, she began pulling it down to the bottom edge with a sure, even stroke. This will even out the surface of the wax and compress any minute lumps into a dense and solid shape. She had just about to grab the small pot of Zamarian ink when the knock came.


Her perfect features twisted into a slight grimace. She could hardly tolerate interruptions when she was engaged in spellcrafting. 


This had better be good, she thought darkly as she made her way to the door, her gored skirt rustling about her legs.


The open door saw her coming face to face with Jasper’s sister. Wanda was standing two feet away, her back straight and confident. Her expression was arranged into an expression of concern so perfect to the point the witch suspected the brunette was faking it.


“Was I interrupting?” Wanda asked.


“Yes,” Eden answered coldly. “What do you want?”


“Niki wants to see us both,” Wanda answered curtly, all pretence at solicitousness now gone. She pivoted sharply on her heels and began moving away. “In the armoury,” she tossed back as she walked off.


Niki, is it? Eden thought with some amusement. I wonder how Jasper feels about that.


It did not escape her that the no-nonsense telepath had taken a slight shine to Jasper’s sister. She amused herself as she moved about putting the wax tablet and her spellcrafting implements away by cataloguing the various interplays between Nikolai, Vincent and Wanda. She paused in the midst of her reverie, a small smile appearing as she thought what this all might signify for Jasper. She could not hide a small perverse delight at wondering how the belligerent empath would react to either should these mutual fascinations were to run their course. 


It should be interesting, she noted clinically. I wonder if he’s skilled enough to overpower Nikolai. He’s done so once. Can he do it again?


After putting her spell crafting items away and giving her room a final once-over and satisfied everything is in order, she exited her room and made her way to the armoury.


The import of the venue was not lost on her. Tomorrow they will leave the Prime’s palatial residence on the Arboreal Islands and journey towards a safe house in the city of Voltur. After walking the siblings over the differences between this world and the Prime Plane, Nikolai and Prime Andra had grilled them through several exercises in basic survival—from physical to the mental. She allowed a small smile as she pictured the effort it took the sceptical Wanda to unlearn her natural resistance to things she had discounted before as stuff of fantasy.


The chatter of voices—Nikolai’s deep bass was barking instructions—became clearer as she neared the armoury.


“No,” Nikolai was speaking, “Not that falchion. You’ll need arms like a troll if you want to flail about with it.”


“Yes, Sahib,” came Jasper’s sarcastic reply. The clatter of steel striking stone came then, followed by a string of curses from the empath. 


Eden wondered briefly what a sahib is but decided it didn’t signify after all. Not when it was couched in such tone by Jasper. She paused at the doorway, taking in the scene before her.


Vincent and Wanda were packing several backpacks, with some minor horseplay between them. Wanda had tied her wealth of midnight curls into pigtails that Vincent will sometimes playfully flick with his finger. In turn, she’ll elbow him good-naturedly. She dismissed the two and turned to look at Nikolai and jasper.


Nikolai was arranging a collection of simple—but masterwork crafted, all of them—weapons on another table. Several longswords, short swords and a lone morningstar peeked from the sack he had dumped onto the table. The ones he had taken out and arranged on the table consisted of two crossbows, a small collection of short swords and longwords, a small mace and a brace of daggers.


Jasper was lifting a heavy falchion and placing it back onto the rack it had originally sat. Eden agreed silently with Nikolai on the strength needed to handle the oversized scimitar. She looked critically at Jasper’s rangy build and decided the irascible empath need more bulk before he could even entertain the thought of mastering the falchion.


“Are we ready to leave tomorrow?” the witch asked Nikolai.


“After dawn,” the telepath confirmed. “We will be taking one wagon and four horses.” He paused. “Could you see to those and provisions as well? Weapons and hunting gear Vincent had settled earlier, but he hasn’t done anything about food.” He glanced meaningfully at the other mentalist, where he was engaged in another flirtatious play with Wanda. “Unless you have no problems with living off the land … ?”


Eden shuddered. She still couldn’t get accustomed to foraging and hunting, preferring her creature comforts too much. She smoothed the front of her blouse and turned to leave for the kitchens. “I’ll handle it,” she said crisply. “I have a feeling Vincent won’t be in his right mind anyway.” Wanda caught the end of the blonde’s statement and flipped her middle finger at the other woman. “That’s nice, dear,” Eden returned, “I love you, too.”


Wanda stuck her tongue out at the willowy blonde’s retreating back. “Is it just me, or does anyone else find her creepy?” she murmured.


Vincent smirked. “Now don’t get under-things twisted in a bunch, beautiful,” he teased. “Eden treats most people like dirt, so don’t take it personally.”


Jasper glanced at Nikolai and smiled in amusement. “Except Niki, apparently,” he teased the giant blonde.


Nikolai turned sharply towards him. “That’s nonsense!” he snapped.


“Perhaps,” Jasper noted serenely. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”


Wanda and Vincent brought over the packs they had finished prepping over to the table where Nikolai had laid out the selection of weapons. The young woman held a light long-hafted mace and was weighing it in her right hand. She grasped the handle and made several experimental swings with it. “Adequate,” she noted. “It’s slightly heavier--about one-half-pound more--than my escrima stick but I’ll take this.”


Nikolai nodded his assent. “How is your hand-eye coordination?” he asked.


“Quite good,” Jasper answered, not looking up from his examination of a brace of daggers. 


“She’s a tennis ace.”


“Meaning?” Nikolai asked, not getting Jasper’s reference.


“Meaning,” Vincent explained, “She hits what she targets and no one’s managed to best her.”


Nikolai looked at Wanda, a guarded respect stealing into his eyes. “Is this correct?” he asked her.


Wanda shrugged. “It’ll be different in the context you’re referring to, I expect.” Pause. “Why do you ask?”


Nikolai didn’t answer immediately, but handed her a light crossbow by way of answering. “Think you can hit your targets with this?” he asked gently.


Jasper glanced at him, noting the quick surprised look Vincent had thrown the giant blonde. The unsaid hung in palpable silence, Nikolai’s unasked question the veritable elephant in the room.


“You’re asking if I can kill?” Wanda challenged him. 


Jasper stared at the two of them. His empathic powers had picked up certain emotional spike coming from the blonde powerhouse but it was immediately gelled by Nikolai himself. Knowing the telepath as he did, Jasper decided against probing further. What grabbed him was that for a brief moment--it was over so fast Jasper wondered if he had imagined it all, had not his empathic sense registered it--a look of pain flashed in Nikolai’s eyes.


“Can you?” Nikolai asked her again.


Jasper let out his breath slowly, unaware that he had been holding it. A brief glance at Vincent told him the slight dark-haired man had been doing the same. What was that about? he caught the line of thought from Vincent.


I don’t know, he thought back.


“If the occasion warrants it, I’ll do it!” Wanda gritted out, wrenching the crossbow out of Nikolai’s grasp. “Jasper, call it!” she snapped out at her brother as she fitted the bolt in the groove and pulled back the bow-string in a fluid motion.


“Small shield,” Jasper called out as he hurled a small wooden wrist buckler up into the air, a sharp twang! and a loud thud! sounded as her bolt met the small shield in mid-air and sent it against the one of the beams criss-crossing the interior of the armory‘s roof.


Vincent was looking at the buckler, now attached to the beam of the armory’s roof--pinned in place by the crossbow bolt. “Not bad,” he complimented. 


“You might wish the situation had never come, later,” Nikolai added quietly. He shook his head, and glanced at Vincent. “Think the three of you can finish up here?” he asked. “I need to see Prime Andra about expenses and some documentations.”


“Go ahead,” Vincent waved him off. “We’ll be fine,” he assured the telepath. 


Nikolai nodded brusquely and left the room. His abrupt departure and specious reasons for doing so jarred Jasper’s empathic senses. 


What was that about? he wondered again.


“Now that our martinet has gone,” Vincent drawled, “Let’s see what else he had left for us, eh?”


Jasper snorted good-naturedly. “I want those daggers,” he called out, making a small wave at the brace of the weapons cache on the table.


“I’d like a couple myself,” Wanda declared.


“Right,” Vincent eyed them both critically, his lips pursed speculatively. “We should see about outfitting you in some protective gear as well.”


“Like armour?” Wanda enthused, her face brightening. “Ooh, I want one like the actress was wearing in that vampire-loves-werewolves story!”


“Huh?” Vincent queried blankly. He looked at Jasper for help.


“Never mind,” Jasper told him, waving it off.



* * * 



Eden left the kitchens, having left instructions to the hands that the perishables such as dried fruit and meat jerky were to be sent to the wagon being prepared before dawn next morning. A quick check on her almanac had ascertain the weather to be cloudy with chance of rain and she had adjusted their external gear to include water-resistant cloaks and blankets and several bolts of oiled canvas for emergency usage. After the last journey Vincent had humorously referred to as “into the wilds,” she had ensured that this time, a rundlet of wine--Vincent’s favourite, a vintage Whitehaven Red--along with two barrels of fresh water was included as well. She had ticked off the items in her list; from spices and herbs, spare clothing and bedding for all five of them, to cured meat and cooking utensils. 


Ugh, she thought with disgust. Cooking isn’t exactly my forte …


She resigned herself to the fact that there is a distinct possibility that she may be saddled with the task of cooking during the five-day journey to Voltur. She dismissed Wanda’s capabilities as completely ridiculous, having already pigeonholed the brunette as a useless ornament. Preening, posturing, entitled brat had been her first impression of Wanda, and although the brunette had managed to hold her own in their subsequent rounds of physical combat and sparring--Eden noted that Wanda may have been an exceptional athlete back when she was in her adolescence, trained for strength and endurance--Eden still didn’t see her contributing anything of much value as part of their company.


Passing by a window overlooking the hillside had her complimenting her foresight on checking weather conditions. The late spring sky was overcast, and thunderheads were moving in slowly but inexorably towards the gently rolling hills and valley where the mansion and its surrounding grounds were ensconced. 


She was rounding the corner of the corridor leading to her suite of rooms when she collided soundly with Nikolai. Nikolai? she thought, her hand reaching out towards him.


“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” Nikolai huffed as at the same time he made an instinctive grab for Eden’s arm.


They both froze. She was looking at him, perplexed. He was looking at his own hand, mild incomprehension on his face. Seconds passed them by, almost frozen in the tableau. It was during this moment of inaction that what Nikolai had said finally registered.


“You didn’t see me?” Eden repeated, nonplussed. “You are a telepath,” she pointed out. “You could’ve heard me!”


“I--” he broke off. He sighed, weary and careworn. He rubbed at his eyes, one finger lingering on the faint scar near his eye. “I’m just tired, Bennet.” he said softly. “Please don’t start on me.”


“What do you mean, ‘you are tired?’” Eden returned, flaring in annoyance. “Tired of what? Tired of being the domineering taskmaster? I wish I could sympathise.” She pushed away from him and made for her rooms, leaving the telepath in the hallway.


Outside, thunder rumbled ominously.