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Apparatus Of Change - Chapter 58
🕑 Added 2022-12-19 22:17:12 +0000 UTCUnnamed - Apparatus Of Change
Available Power : 7
Authority : 6
Bind Insect (1, Command)
Fortify Space (2, Domain)
Distant Vision (2, Perceive)
Collect Plant (3, Shape)
See Commands (5, Perceive)
Bind Crop (4, Command)
Nobility : 4
Congeal Glimmer (1, Command)
See Domain (1, Perceive)
Claim Construction (2, Domain)
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Empathy : 4
Shift Water (1, Shape)
Imbue Mending (3, Civic)
Bind Willing Avian (1, Command)
Move Water (4, Shape)
Spirituality : 5
Shift Wood (1, Shape)
Small Promise (2, Domain)
Make Low Blade (2, War)
Congeal Mantra (1, Command)
Form Party (3, Civic)
Ingenuity : 4
Know Material (1, Perceive)
Form Wall (2, Shape)
Link Spellwork (3, Arcane)
Sever Command (4, War)
Tenacity : 4
Nudge Material (1, Shape)
Bolster Nourishment (2, Civic)
Drain Endurance (2, War)
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Animosity : -
Amalgamate Human (3, Command)
Kalip had planned to head out, shorty after breakfast. Seraha had made a classic demon dish for them that every one of my memory sets warned was going to sit too heavily for the day’s work; a kind of hot pressed cake made from a mix of pickled root vegetable and chopped nuts. Normally you fried them, then ate them wrapped in broad leaves as a kind of festival food. We didn’t have those here, and nor did they have enough oil to spend it on that much decadence, so Seraha just dipped slightly into the fort’s stockpiles of cooking oil to toast them in a pan, and let everyone eat them with some of the utensils that had been left behind.
The human children were my favorite part of breakfast. Every one of them, even the slightly older and more mature Sivs, looked at the presented dish like someone was trying to trick them into replacing their favorite toy with a bucket of wind. Their expressions when the demon kids enthusiastically tore into theirs, and the subsequent treating of their meal like it was some kind of challenge, was a memory that I’d keep close for some time.
The human adults were a little more reserved. But it was interesting to see different approaches to new food. Malpa ate like he was writing a complex philosophical scroll on the nature of the food, for future reference. Kalip ate like a soldier, familiar mechanical motions with no outward appreciation for the meal. But Yuea? Yuea ate with a small smile and glittering eyes, like she was seeing something she’d missed for a long time once again.
I still wonder at her. I will take time, I think, over the next few days, to truly settle one of my bonds down with her and get an account for what makes her life so different.
But eventually the food was gone, the kids ran off to play with a warning to stay out of the untouched parts of the fort, and I was left with a few people that wanted a word with me.
“What’s the plan?” Kalip asks, directing it straight at me.
Yuea scowls at him, any trace of the woman at peace with the world that were there a handful of heartbeats ago scattered away. “Why is this your plan?” She says, her voice having regained quite a bit of its strength as her infection heals. “It’s a stupid risk, especially until you’re stronger, and-“
She gets cut off by Jahn, the demon speaking in a move that I don’t think anyone would have been comfortable with a couple tendays ago. “You need to stop saying that.” They tell her. “Stronger, stronger, always stronger with you. The little dream is strong enough. They have been every time we’ve needed them.”
I start writing as Yuea and Jahn start batting words at each other. Balancing the story, I tell them, I was often only strong enough because of your actions. But Jahn is also not wrong. I wish to be capable, but I do not wish to… overextend?
I don’t know the word. I don’t know, if I did, that they would know the word. How do you tell someone that you have seen what happens when an apparatus pursues strength above everything else, and that is what killed every human in this fort? That every nightmare they have lived through the last several months has been someone like me, doing exactly what Yuea wants me to do?
Perhaps I simply say that.
I write that, into the board laid on the table. Yuea does not respond well, her face twisting like a nightmare as she reads the words. Jahn and Kalip seem to understand, though. Jahn especially; the demon almost unnaturally knowing how I am feeling. In this case, even, before I had really understood it myself.
“Fine.” Yuea snaps. “But I’ll bring this up when we’re all dying, and in the next world, you’ll all owe me.”
Kalip and Jahn share glances that make me wonder if they believe in the same afterlife Yuea does. The scholar I once was burns with questions now about what all of them believe, just in general. But we aren’t here for that. The two of them shrug, and nod at Yuea, before Kalip speaks again. “Commander, we need more people.” He says simply. “Jahn and Malpa were right, the other day. At this point, everyone here, even the brats, are good enough that we could probably just walk toward the edge of the world forever and be just fine. But if we want to stay here, we’re going to need more hands. Our mobile apiary here is good, but she can’t be everywhere, or do everything for us. We can learn a lot, but there’s… seven of us?”
“Eight.” Jahn says instantly. “You forget Mela, every time we do this.”
Kalip nods. “Right.”
Jahn presses on. “We have a source of water, we have stockpiles of food. We could give up on everything and live here until the world ends. But if we want to build a real life, we need people to help us build it. Fielders, makers, artisans, bureaucrats. We can learn, as Kalip says, but we are… few.”
Also, I add to the conversation, I feel compelled to help. To save who we can. To build something better. I would not want to simply wait here for it all to collapse. While I welcome the quiet moments to turn my spellwork over in my mind and learn what I am, I do not wish for it to be at the cost of other lives we could have-
“Fucking fine!” Yuea throws her hands up, instantly regretting that decision as a wince of pain strikes her and she clutches at her chest just above her left breast. “Ugh.” She grunts. “You’re all mutinous.” Her words have no heat to them, and everyone can tell. “But fine. Kalip, if you’re going, you’re not going alone.” Her subordinate looks like he’s about to protest, but Yuea jerks her head in a motion toward Oob, who is currently listening in on the conversation for me. “Take the bug. Maybe some of the big fuzzy flying knives, too.”
“And I would come, as well.” Jahn adds.
“No.” Yuea and Kalip say at the same time. I also write it as well, but as much as my skill with Shift Wood continues to improve, I am still slower than the blunt words of a soldier. Yuea continues. “We can’t send everyone out. Kalip can take care of himself, but the people here need a person like you, too. Especially with me… like this.” She spits out the last words bitterly.
Kalip reverts to his usual stoic self. “I can move faster alone.” He says, then points with two fingers at Oob. “And I’ll have a way to stay in touch.”
He’s not wrong, but even as I reach across Bind Insect to touch upon Oob’s mind and make a request, as well as ask a question of the growing beetle, I am also writing out a reminder to the table. My magic has a limit, remember. I tell them. Oob is amenable to following, but beyond a certain distance, we will lose touch. I have a magic to circumvent that, but it will not be quite so easy as simply letting him share your pack.
“It’s still better than any tactic we had in the magetouched.” Yuea reminds me.
Kalip rises to his feet off the rough wooden bench, and I remember again that I should spend a portion of my magic to smooth out the furniture here. This meal hall is already so large that it feels painfully empty when the survivors gather in it, it should not be uncomfortable to sit in as well. “I’m going now.” He announces. “No point wasting daylight. Oob, meet me in the courtyard.” I love how he addresses the beetle personally. I don’t even know if he could tell the difference between the two I have without being told, but it’s a small act of casual kindness from the man. An acknowledgement of the personhood of these newly growing creatures, without thought or malice.
“Before you do,” Yuea interrupts him one last time as she lets out a small sigh, “this fort’s built over a pit, you know? Take a few blocks of vim with you. No sense holding back on that.”
Kalip nods once, and leaves, a few of my bees still lingering in the room tracking his motion out, letting me watch him through multiple eyes.
“I have work to attend as well.” Jahn says, standing on steady hooves, their simple wrappings making their steps somewhat muffled on the stone floor of the meal hall. “Good day, Yuea.” They say as they leave.
Then it’s just the two of us. Yuea lets out a long breath, seeming to deflate as she does so, appearing more vulnerable without the other human and demon here. “Haha…” she gives a small laugh, I think mostly to herself, “never a quiet moment, is there?” The commander asks.
Not so far. I write, trying to put the words where she can see without too much effort. But also, without seeming like I am coddling her. She has been touchy about that, ever since the loss of her connection to the timeless realm and her enhancements. Ah, while it is fresh, would you tell me, what is Vim?
“…You mean vim?” She asks, giving a puzzled look to the word I wrote. “It’s… we write it like this.” She reaches out to drag a nail across the pane of wood, and I see her eye twitch in frustration as she realizes she can’t easily cut through the material anymore. “Whatever. It’s a world-magic. We’ve found a few places where it wells up to the surface, that we call pits. It’s easy enough to shape into portable forms, and pretty much anyone can consume one if you do it right. Think of it like a couple days of good rest, in a saddlebag.”
Invaluable. I agree. Why did we not break into the supply when we arrived here?
“It’s not a replacement for actual rest.” Yuea tells me with a shrug. “It’s what you give to scouts and shock troopers, not what you use for kids that don’t wanna go to bed or idiot demons who overwork themselves.” She glares out toward the half-open door of the meal hall that leads to the hallway through the fort. “Not that it really matters.”
Would it help you? I ask. Are you martyring yourself again? We’ve spoken about this.
The weakened solider turns her glare onto my form, and I watch her through a half dozen large honeybees as she folds her arms at me. “I liked you better when you communicated through promises to help, not scathing personal attacks.”
It’s only an attack if you’re being foolish. I tell her, the sentence resonating with the prim and proper form of verbal combat that the merchant in me remembered so fondly.
“I’m leaving now.” Yuea says, but I can hear the humor in her voice now.
It brings me a deep internal joy, myself. Not every form of helping is building walls or killing monsters.
And yet, I have no time to linger. A mental nudge sends Oob off to his meeting, and the start of his own shared beetle adventure, and I keep a mental watch on his bond as I do my best to make sure that none of my magics are ever sitting truly idle.
My usual chores flow easily, and I enter a form of working pattern as I do what I can to help restore the fort, claiming chunks of it as I go. It is interesting that I can tell that the majority of the structure is not ‘in use’, simply because as I use Claim Construction, beyond the initial dusting of those soft motes that form my magic, the fort produces nothing new for me. It’s an interesting though, that perhaps if I told Yuea that more people living here would make me stronger faster, she might have acquiesced faster.
I take a brief moment to see Kalip off on his trip, along with everyone else. He has a heading, and I will check in with him regularly using Link Spellwork and Distant Vision to communicate through Oob and my own writing. It is a clunky system with too many steps in it, but it is still a marvel to all of us that there is no more uncertainty in his safety, or his timing. The children cluster round the quiet man who doesn’t want the attention, as a honeybee the size of a cat alights on his shoulder and Oob finds a resting spot in his backpack. I take the last opportunity to Form Party with him and the two insects he is with, using Link Spellwork to add See Domain into the link and hopefully allowing them to avoid the territory of any other apparatus out there.
I’m still not clear what is happening when I fold perception spells into Form Party. But I believe that it requires them to strengthen their own connection to each other, before it begins to truly let them see as I see. Which is good, I wouldn’t want to overwhelm any of them sitting here in the middle of the fort, where my domain reads to me as a thick ledger of small entries and arcane hinges.
Kalip leaves. Everyone seems to wait for a candle, as if expecting something terrible to happen as soon as the most combat capable protector is out of line of sight. But nothing goes wrong. Jahn and Malpa go back to sorting the seeds of various plants, Mela and Muelly take a few of my bees with them as they explore an upstairs part of the fort that we haven’t gotten to yet, and I work with Seraha on recording as many of the small pieces of knowledge I have that could help them. Natural remedies or small trade tricks I remember from old lives, now written down and shared with people who need them most in this moment.
I test Bind Crop for the first time late that afternoon, under the hot summer sun. It doesn’t work on the collection of seeds and cuttings that the survivors have arranged. Somewhat confused, I try it on the vegetation outside the fort’s walls, and find the same result. It simply does not form the tether, much like trying to use Bind Insect on a human does nothing.
Malpa seems put out by this, but Jahn’s reaction is much more measured. It takes me some time to relocate my remaining beetle to their position to get their verbal input, but they believe that a crop is not a crop until it’s in the ground. Possibly until it’s sprouted. It’s an obstacle, but I believe I agree.
No one is particularly thrilled to be tilling a small garden under the hot summer sun. Especially not the children, who have begun to get used to a life without schooling or daily chores. But some of my newer mantra-infused honeybees join them, using elongated stingers as seed drills, and the small magic of the friendly creatures working alongside them cheers up not just the kids, but everyone involved.
It’s early evening by the time the planting and watering is done. An exceptional amount of work for a small half-length long square of farmed soil, even with honeybees and several hands and Nudge Material helping out. In the time that it’s taken to put it all together, I’ve brought another ten bees into the fold of Bind Insect, and granted each of them a mantle of glimmer or mantra. I’ve also acquired several new beetles, and given the simple, unawakened insects the easy command to report to Oop and learn from him. The day of rushing Oop from place to place as I realized I had only one real listener has left me feeling like I should fix that particular problem.
Some of the older bees, the ones that are starting to form their own thoughts and feelings beyond simple loyalty to me and to their hive, ask why I did not ask them. In answer, all I can say is that I didn’t think of it. My old promise to never force them to grow in a way they did not want having left me feeling uncomfortable applying any pressure on their growth that they didn’t ask for directly. I get the impression through Bind Insect that if I had simply told them there was an issue, they could have solved it.
I get the impression, too, that they have expanded their concept of what their hive is. That same communal drive to do what is needed for each other, which I was so enamored with when I first woke up, is still alive in them. It’s simply larger. Larger and more complex, with their thoughts learning to expand what it means to be part of the hive to me, to the other survivors, and even to the birds. They remember the crows; an act I would not have thought them even capable of. But the remember, and they would welcome them back if they ever returned.
It’s touching, and our small conversation ends with me feeling a lightness in my crystal heart. A lightness that grows even more satisfied as Bind Crop takes hold on the small garden that evening.
The tether isn’t like Bind Insect or Bind Willing Avian. There isn’t one singular line to each plant. Instead, seems to spread like roots, similar seeds branching out in multiple lines that lead back to the connecting trunk. But even those trunks all coil together and connect to one larger strand, one crop, one plot of land and the things within it.
I think the mixed seeds will lead to this garden being less efficient than if they had planted handfuls of trail wheat or a single variety of berry bush. I may not be able to easily direct growth, or guide specific plants this way. But… does that matter? It is working. Already, my spell is sharing something with the seeds and the soil.
And I, perhaps a little impatient, make the mental push that I have used before on my other binding spells, and open the connection. Let more and more of the empty liquid that the spell collects pour out. Let these freshly planted green lives drink deeply from the power that I hold.
There are, of course, always a hundred other things to do. And I do not have time to watch plants grow. But by the end of the day, just as Kalip is emerging into range of Distant Vision and I begin tracking his journey away from us and toward the other group of survivors, there are sprouts in the garden.
Today has been less chaotic than I think it could have been. And yet I feel as though I had accomplished quite a lot. I’ve learned some things, taught some things, and applied my magic in small new ways as the sun warmed the land around us.
I check in with Kalip as night falls, and he continues his trek as if the darkness is no obstacle. He’s doing fine. Everything is going well.
Which is a strange feeling.
Just a pleasant day. A distraction from the gnawing worries in my thoughts. But more than that. A reminder, I think, that the world doesn’t have to be hostile for every minute of every day. That sometimes, we are owed a break.
If Kalip continues through the night, and the other camp moves again tomorrow, then he will meet them sometime on the next night or the day after if he chooses to wait. And so I settle in, to spend a day or two simply living, before anything has a chance to go wrong again.
I say it is a strange feeling, but it’s one I’ve known from when I woke up in this form, in this place. It’s one I faced and recognized and chose to not shy away from on the first day of my new existence.
It feels good to be alive.
Comments
If the MC already decided on Stone Pylon, trying it out sooner rather than later would mean recouping the points sooner. I mean, I get the idea of leaving options open, but picking new spells means new growth and new options being opened. And waiting for a day or more before trying out a new spell, as has happened a few times now, just feels like an anxiety inducing waste, given the life or death stakes. "How do you tell someone that you have seen what happens when an apparatus pursues strength above everything else, and that is what killed every human in this fort? That every nightmare they have lived through the last several months has been someone like me, doing exactly what Yuea wants me to do?" No. That's just not an accurate description. More like the result of logical fallacies stacked on top of each other. "You want me to get some money, but just look at this other guy who wanted money and killed people to take their money! This clearly shows the flaws in your goals."
Yates!!
Thank you for another lovely chapter!
