Same skyte, different day.
September 7
610Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcKyB4roTOF
It was Wednesday. The supply boat always arrives on Wednesday. I usually let Fox deal with the practical aspects of keeping the two of us from starving to death. My very first week out here I bought an entire side of raw beef before I remembered that refrigeration technomancy hadn't filtered down to the mundanes yet. Fox's first month here was entirely devoted to getting the smell out. No, he was the practical person, he did the practical things. I did the making the laws of nature bend to my whim things. It was a great arrangement.
I had some free time in my schedule, so I was working on my flightstaff. It was a new design, one entirely of my own conception. It's actually really simple for wizards to fly, even without wings. It's just a matter of creating enough properly directed thrust, through a tool like a staff or a broomstick. It's the same method of giving energy a shape that lets a wizard hurl balls of fire or bolts of lightning, and is actually far simpler than either in nearly every respect. But one does actually need to have magic in order to use a flying staff, the magic comes from within the wizard. Not so with this.
My design would draw magic directly from the environment around it, converting energy from low-intensity sources such as the heat from the sun or the magnetic field of the earth or the natural background necrotic death field that everyone is exposed to on a daily basis. Combine that with exposure to ley lines and force nodes, this staff could allow anyone, wizard, mundane, giant stone troll, tree man, sentient pudding, whatever wondrous being this world can create to fly as freely and as effortlessly as a delicious sea gannet.
In theory, that is. I hadn't found anyone willing to actually test-ride this thing for me.
"Mr. Wizard?" said Fox, knocking on my workshop door.
"Fox!" I turned around, rubbing my hands together in predatory glee. "I am so glad you're here. I have this experiment, and I need a potential test subject with a particularly low body mass…"
"I think we had best save that for another day, sir," Fox said, effortlessly side-stepping my mad arcanist tendencies. "Miss Dina would wish to see you."
"…who?" I said.
"Miss Dina," said Fox. My face was no less blank than usual, but he had been with me long enough to tell when I was confused. "…the woman who brings us our supplies."
"Ohhh, of course!" I said, and looked out the southern window. With my Vision I could easily make out her low wooden boat piled high with parcels of cured meat, sacks of grain and barrels of fresh apples. A small handful of sailors were unloading the supplies onto the dock for me and Fox to take into our stores. For a tiny little man, Fox could lift like nothing I had ever seen. It's like the way ants can lift things a hundred times bigger than themselves.
Anyway, I saw all of that, but my attention was focused on this Miss Dina. She was a fairly young and, if I may be forgiven for simply coming out and saying this, a very attractive woman. Her clothing was fairly plain – a dull green ankle-length dress and a reddish-brown plaid cloak worn over one shoulder and belted at the waist. Her hair was a dark red, and hung down to her waist in loose curls that flowed and bounced as she moved, a few loose strands hanging down into her face, casting a shadow over her eye. Her skin was fair, dotted with freckles, her nose was narrow and slightly turned up at the end, and her eyes were a dark brown, and very wide. I had a particularly good view of the latter, as she seemed to be glancing back and forth, her view always seeming to come directly back to me. This got unnerving very quickly and I had to turn back to Fox.
"What, does she want to discuss a deal?" I asked. "Is there a special on this week?"
"Not precisely, sir," Fox said.
"Well, whatever it is, I'd prefer if you could take care of it yourself," I said. "You're much better at talking business than I am, and you already have my power of attorney."
"It's not exactly that, Mr. Wizard," said Fox. "I mean that she wishes to see you."
"…I'm confused again, Fox."
"…see you on a more personal basis, sir."
"Oh, well that's alright then," I said, turning back to my staff. "Now if we can please get back to this new invention of mine and what?"
"Yes, the young Miss Dina seemed particularly taken with you, sir," said Fox. "She knew of your preference for solitude and dislike of strangers, so she asked me to convey her interests on her behalf."
"But… why?" I said. "I haven't exactly made a good impression on her."
The first time that I met Dina was some seven or eight years ago, when she was taking over the transport business from her mother. I promptly came down with Fox to introduce myself. It was only proper. In my attempt to shake her hand, I promptly tripped over a coil of rope, fell face-first into… into her, and sent her, and myself, and an entire sack of top-shelf oats spilling into the harbor. Since then I had spoken with her only a handful of times, and only by accident. The days of the week all blend together after a while.
"I simply can't say, sir," said Fox.
"…what, not at all?" I said. "Nothing? No ideas? Can't even build me up a little bit?"
"That isn't exactly what I meant, sir," said Fox. "It simply came up rather suddenly and she refused to explain herself further."
I turned back to the window and stared down at her from a high, far distance. She was turned away from me now, shouting something at one of her crew. Apparently there was a wrong way to move giant sacks of grain from point A to point B. Learn something new every day.
"Tell her that I'm very flattered by her attentions but that I would greatly prefer to keep our relationship on professional terms," I said, turning back to my work. "And also give her my compliments on the kippered herring, that was a great addition to our regular orders."
"With all due respect, I must protest, sir," said Fox. "You've been without… companionship for as long as I've known you. Frankly I'm beginning to worry about your mental health."
"I get by on my own," I said. "And I'm not exactly alone. I've got you."
"I'm flattered, but that's hardly the same thing, sir."
"Well, there's… you know, stuff I do," I said. "Projects, like this new staff. And books, and music and… the Aethernet. It helps me get a handle on those things."
"Johnathan," said Fox. My thoughts stopped in their tracks. Fox knew all too well the power that one's name can hold over a person, especially a wizard. It was playing dirty, but it got my attention. "A man can lie to his underlings, to his superiors, his friends, his family, even his lovers. But the two people he can never lie to are his pets and his valet."
"…fine then," I said. I took a deep breath and looked Fox square in the… three feet above his head. Then I re-adjusted to look him in the eye. "You know me better than anyone else. And you should know that when I say I'm not yet ready for… companionship, that I don't need to explain why I feel that way."
"No," Fox said, slowly. "You need not. And you speak of your Witney so well. It makes me wish I had the chance to have known her."
"I wish you had too, Fox," I said, sliding off my chair. I slumped to the floor, my back up against the wall, lost in the shadow beneath the windowsill. This… I couldn't tell why, but in times of intense emotions it always felt natural to me to find the nearest wall and cling to it like a mewling pup at his mother's teat. "You would have loved her, Fox. Everyone loved her. No matter where we went or who was there, the eyes were always on her, for she outshone all others. She was… she was the Sun, and everything else but revolved around her."
"…around the Sun?" asked Fox, sitting down a few feet in front of me. This put us just about at the same eye-level.
"Yes, the Sun," I said. "We've talked about this."
"As you say, sir," said Fox. I didn't think I'd ever win him over to that theory, but I wasn't about to give up.
"You would have loved just… talking with her, Fox," I said. "She hadn't been raised in the academy like the rest of us. She came from the outside. Even her own brother hadn't come from the outside. She had seen and lived so much more than anyone I had ever seen. She was a… a sage among wizards, Fox. Like a mystic that had lived a thousand lives, and every word spilled forth gleaming pearls of wisdom. But sometimes, every once in a thousand and one moments, I could say something that made her eyes light up like there was nothing in the world but me. I used to count those moments. Carved each one into my staff. …oh lord, that sounds stalky as hell."
"You were young, sir," said Fox. "No young person has good judgment, least of all when they are in love."
"No, I guess not," I said. "But I'm older now, and I must have told you ever last memory I have of Witney a dozen times over."
"I am to be here for you, Mr. Wizard," said Fox. "Whether you wish me to be or not."
"…that's an odd turn of phrase," I said. "What are you scheming?"
"I scheme nothing," said Fox, getting to his feet. "My machinations are bold-faced and obvious. But I know you more than anyone alive, and I know the emptiness within you. You cannot fill a life on loneliness and memories."
"I can fill my life any way I see fit," I said. "This is the way I choose to live. This suits me."
"Yes, you most certainly can," said Fox. "And I know there is no point in forcing you to change. But I hope you would listen to some friendly, un-asked for counsel."
I said nothing in response. Fox, as he so did, filled the silence of his own accord.
"This girl need not replace Witney in your mind," he said. "I would never ask such a thing of you. Nor should you expect it of anyone. But it would not disgrace her memory to enjoy yourself for a few moments."
"…fifteen years," I said, looking at the floor. "It's been fifteen years, Fox. Since… it still doesn't feel like enough time. Like I'm ready. Do you think I can do this?"
"If I thought you were unready, I would never have brought it to your attention," said Fox, smiling.
I stood up and faced the window. Dina was staring at the tower, her hair streaming in the wind like the tail of a kite. The sun caught her eyes, and she smiled. I knew it couldn't be at me. She couldn't see more than a tiny dot inside a dot inside a slightly bigger dot. But for a few seconds, I remembered how a warm a smile could feel when all around was cold.
"…what's a good time for her?" I asked.
"Friday, at sunset," said Fox. "May I express your interests?"
"I… I suppose you may," I said. "I'm going to need help finding something to wear."610Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYX17WcfXaM
