A Travelling Mage’s Almanac

Excerpt from Yuje of Milur’s ‘Mundane Medicine in Perspective.’

“There are a shocking number of people who believe that mundane medicine’s role is entirely limited to the dispensing of cough syrups and cleaning scraped knees. In a realm where an experienced mage or healer can reknit broken bones and restore missing limbs, one might consider the ancient arts of medicine to be thoroughly outdated. How is it, then, that mages know how the bones connect to one another? Who sets the breaks before the mages stitch them together, or staunches the bleeding before a healer can cast her spells? The humble practitioner of medicine, of course. It is for this reason I take great pride in my role as both doctor and alchemist …”

Yenna awoke with a start. Her head pounded like some irate beast was trying to kick its way out, but she was lying on something soft and warm. After taking a few moments to bring her eyes back into focus, Yenna lifted an arm to push herself up, only to raise her head into something else equally as soft. Beside all that, there was a pungent scent assaulting her nostrils, and the mage struggled to extricate herself.

“Oh, you’re awake! Excellent work, Mayi!” 

Captain Eone’s booming voice was close enough to cause Yenna to groan in pain, and with a blush she realised that nearly her entire upper body had been laying in Eone’s lap. Not wishing to think too much about the soft things she had bumped into, Yenna attempted to stand. Getting up from lying down was not a simple prospect for a kesh, and her legs appeared to be too weak to hold her up against the usual trick of pushing against the ground hard enough to rise. With a tangled stumble, Yenna fell into a seated position and finally had a look around.

They were still at the duelling circle, and from the position of the moon Yenna assumed she had only been unconscious for a handful of minutes. The scene had suddenly become rather crowded, with the captain, her guard Narasanha, Muut, Tirk, Mayi and even the mereu Mysilia arriving to see. Mayi had some glass bottle in hand, the source of the awful smell, and was putting it away in a bag full of similar containers. Sitting a small distance away, seated rather politely, was the witch Lumale. The impatient tapping of her fingers and her crossed arms gave the impression she wasn’t too pleased.

“My apologies for the worry,” Yenna struggled to sit up, “It seems I’ve overdone it.”

“You gave us all quite the fright!” Eone gave a hearty laugh and threw an arm around Yenna, dragging her back in. ”We’re just lucky Tirk raced down here to see the end of the duel, or we might have come to a rather different conclusion.”

“Quite the embarrassing sight, really,” Mysilia hovered about, gently removing the captain’s hands from Yenna, “You slumped on the ground, blood streaming out of your nose, poor little Tirk sobbing uncontrollably. Some mage you are!”

Yenna couldn’t really refute that—it was probably the most embarrassing ending to a duel she had ever seen, let alone been part of. Not to mention, Tirk really did look quite upset, though he seemed much happier now that Yenna was conscious—except for the exceptionally wet cheeks and snotty nose. A pointed clanking noise came from Lumale, who wanted some attention.

“I would say something about the frailty of the fleshy, but you still passed my test. I’m not entirely sure how you managed it, all that blood streaming from your nose and all, but it would seem mages have improved since last I’ve had cause to face one.” Lumale rose to her feet, dusting her robes off with a spell. “What say you, then? You overcame my challenge, and now I owe you lessons on witchcraft.”

Yenna’s pounding skull didn’t particularly have room for lessons right now, but she would be a fool to decline. “Absolutely. It would be an honour–ugh!”

“Yenna!” Mayi hopped up again as the mage clutched her head. She reached for another bottle. “You’ve strained yourself. What exactly did you do?”

Trying to talk while Mayi waved a particularly smelly tincture under her nose was somewhat difficult, so Yenna waited until she was done before answering. “Amongst mages, mental discipline is everything. There is a technique that advanced mages learn, to accelerate their thoughts—”

“Hah!” Lumale interrupted, now standing over her. “Another stolen technique, or possibly repurposed wisdom. How reckless you mages have become! Perhaps it was a mistake to look away from all of you this long?”

“Reckless? Stolen?” Yenna gently pushed Mayi’s bottle away from her face. “It strains the mind, sure, but I’ve never heard of it doing any real damage. And stolen from whom? This technique has only been around a couple of decades now.”

Lumale leaned down, her face close to Yenna’s. “It has been around for millenia, mage. It is a technique taught by demon-beasts—a trade of vitality for clarity, and a dangerous combat trance besides. But I do wonder how the ever-cautious mages took away its claws?”

Despite her mocking tone, the witch seemed somewhat fascinated. With a swish of her hand, she cast a spell that relieved some of the pain in Yenna’s skull. The pounding in her head abated, but the mage still ached something fierce. Finding herself strong enough now, the mage rose to her hooves.

“Thank you. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for you to tell me how the entirety of Arcane magic is stolen from here or there, but for now, I think it’s about time we rested.” Yenna gave a small bow¹ to Lumale and smiled. “Can we come meet you in the morning? Oh, assuming we aren’t leaving first thing, Captain?”

Eone chuckled. “The whole point of this expedition is to stop when we find something interesting. Perhaps next time, someone else will find something?”

Most of the members of the group laughed, though Yenna couldn’t help but blush. She had never been much for running into trouble before, but amongst this group she was living in exciting times. Lumale just gave off a beleaguered and very intentional sigh.

“Don’t let me stop you from wandering about, or whatever it is you folks do with your short lives. I don’t need to be present to teach you.” With a click of her fingers and a puff of smoke, the witch conjured up a metal disc and pressed it into Yenna’s hand. It was made of silver, inscribed with detailed runes that the mage would have to study in greater detail later. “Activate the disc, and I shall deign to speak to you. For now, so long!”

Before Yenna could protest, Lumale leapt into the air and vanished. She had thought the witch had teleported away, but Yenna saw as Demvya and, somewhat surprisingly, Narasanha trailed absolutely nothing with their eyes. She would have to inquire as to how the four-armed bodyguard could see something only a spirit could see—later, when the rest of her headache had ceased.

For the time being, it was getting late, and all involved were eager to sleep. All except for Tirk, who happily explained all the events of the day from atop Captain Eone’s shoulder.

“...and then Mage Yenna and the silupker lady did a li’l show with some magic illusions, about some crazy stuff that happened long ago!”

“Is that so, little guy?” Eone beamed as they walked back to where the group was camped.

Meanwhile, Yenna turned over the small silver disc in her hands. It seemed to be an illusion imager—a device often used by mages to communicate more effectively over long distances. It held an advantage over mere speaking stones in that it transmitted not just voice, but also the likeness in illusion of the speaker. In addition, the spell was simple enough that even someone who could only speak the words could use it, though only with the aid of a wand². Even simpler, this was one of a linked pair—there were variants that could be used to speak to a variety of similarly made devices, but this could only be used to call Lumale.

When Yenna looked up, they had managed to arrive at camp. A lack of noise drew her attention to Tirk, who had collapsed asleep in Eone’s arms. For some reason, Mysilia looked quite jealous from her usual shoulder perch—when the mereu spotted Yenna looking, she blushed and quickly found something interesting in the sky to observe.

It felt like morning would never come. The headache made it difficult for Yenna to fall asleep, though her body was eager to slumber. Thoughts swirled around in her head all night, about the apparent shortcomings of Arcane magic, of the promises of witchcraft, of the nature of the black book—even with other things to be worried about, the book still seemed to attract her thoughts. 

—

When morning did eventually arrive, Yenna still felt quite tired. Hirihiri and Tirk passed out vegetable-filled dumplings the older yolm had purchased in town, and the food put Yenna’s body at ease. The expedition was eager to get on with their journey, but it did feel strange to leave without hearing anything more from the witch Lumale. Pulling on her robes and running some magical cleansing through her hair, the mage journeyed back to the little cafe.

The town of Neidaruma was much more active in the morning than it had been in the late afternoon. For every friendly farmer and townsperson who stopped and waved hello to Yenna, she made sure to move just a little bit faster—greeting strangers for no reason was not exactly her idea of a good time. Trotting at speed, she eventually made her way back to the place, only to find Lumale’s shop conspicuously absent.

Certain that her memory couldn’t fail her on this account, Yenna cast her modified magical sight spell and scanned the area. Inexplicably, where the shop had been, the two buildings either side were simply wider—there wasn’t even the trace of an illusion. At a canter, she made her way around behind the buildings. Sure enough, there was a trace of dirt from where the duelling circle had been, but no definitive sign. Was Lumale really powerful enough to just conjure a building into and out of existence? Left with more questions than answers, Yenna made her way back to the expedition group.

With everyone packed up and Yenna comfortably on Chime’s back, the mage carefully started the enchantments on the silver disc. The circles began to glow a dull amber, indicating it was attempting to communicate with its partner. After waiting just long enough to make Yenna anxious it wouldn’t work, the symbols glowed green and a tiny illusory image of Lumale appeared…rotated the wrong way, and up in the air.

“Fool mage! All I can see is the ground!” Lumale’s voice sounded equally as hollow and equally as annoyed with her as usual. Yenna rotated the disc until the image of Lumale appeared to stand on the unoccupied seat opposite her. In a rather uncanny display of how the illusion was captured, Lumale began to walk towards Yenna without moving, instead growing larger until she was half her usual size.

“M-My apologies, I’ve never used a portable imager before. Lumale, I—”

“That’s Master Lumale to you, mage. Even you should know the proper terms of respect.” Yenna cringed at the rebuke and bowed her head in apology. It seemed like the witch was in an extra cranky mood this early in the morning. A little thrown off by her earlier failings, and not wanting to risk losing this rare link to the secretive witches, Yenna capitulated.

“I wasn’t sure if the address was appropriate. What I meant to say was, Master Lumale, that I visited your store only to find it wasn’t there. Did you move it?”

The image of Lumale seemed to be momentarily distracted by something happening off to her side, then looked back. “Yes, I see. You even searched for me there, though you didn’t see the residuals. For shame, mage. The nature of my shop is that it exists in its own space, and the door appears where I wish it to appear. Why would I risk my fleeting and fragile existence by residing in the mundane realm at all times?”

This was a rather casual admission of some extraordinary power. Having a pocket dimension such as that—at least, Yenna thought it might be a pocket dimension—was something only an extremely powerful master of magic could perform. The spell to open such a space was complicated, but something even Yenna could do—the real issue was maintaining it, keeping it stable, and gorging it on magical energy. At once, Yenna was reminded of first arriving for her studies as a mage, watching masters casually ignore mundane laws that seemed immutable to her as a younger woman.

“Are you going to sit there all wide-eyed, or are you going to tell me why you’ve called?” Lumale’s voice chimed out once again—it seemed the witch was losing patience, as she looked to be busying herself with some other unseen task.

“I…I would like you to teach me. About the colours, and witchcraft.” Yenna’s words hung in the air and anxiety welled up within her. To once again be the student, and with such a demanding teacher, she felt as excited as she did terrified.

“Excellent, mage. Let us begin your descent into witchcraft.”

¹ - Yenna describes an extremely specific kind of bow, meant to show respect from an experienced student to her new tutor. Consequently, it is known that there are hundreds of needlessly niche bows, gestures and signs of respect or disrespect amongst mages of that era. A particularly spicy gesture, described in a contemporary book of mage’s manners, conveys a feeling of utmost animosity between a master and her fellow master’s familiar, which is a gesture short of an unsummoning ritual. One can only imagine a wizened old wizard waving her hands in disgust at some dull-faced bird-lizard.

² - A rather ubiquitous item, the generic ‘wand’ refers to a mana-focusing wand. As most people lack the experience, know-how or passive ability to channel magic’s power enough to even kickstart an enchanted item’s recycling enchantment, one can instead use a wand that perpetually concentrates a tiny bead of magic at its tip. Saying the appropriate words and tapping with the wand is generally all that’s needed to activate nearly any everyday magical item. For the contemporary citizens of an enchanted city, to be without a wand is a disaster indeed.