Arcana 99: Stage One

I glanced behind myself once more. Sure enough, Nerio was still right behind me as he had been the entire day. Well, except for the two times he had to stop to refuel his motorcycle. Over the course of the day, my surroundings gradually shifted from a desert to a sparse forest.

Odd, I thought we would be traveling through deserts all the way to Mexico.

As the sun began to set, the sound from Nerio’s engine told me it was almost empty for the third time.

Finally, I was almost out of magic myself.

When his machine finally sputtered to a halt, I turned my horse around and made a show of slowly approaching Nerio, “You finally ran out of gas?” He looked away from the fire pit he was making to glare at me, then silently returned to his task. After a few seconds of no progress, I approached the pile of damp logs. I drew a circle on my palm and a line from it to my elbow. When I was done, I pulled my hand away and a small ball of fire appeared at my fingertips and launched towards the wood.

Arcana seventeen: Seeking Flame

The fire now lit, Nerio glared at me once more then retrieved a small bag from the backpack he had rested against his vehicle. I propped myself against a nearby tree; I would have preferred to use my magics to make a small shelter, but I had completely emptied my reserve through my competition with Nerio and lighting the fire. I was certainly glad to have bested him, but I had overexerted myself in doing so. I had no magic left, and Nerio didn’t have any fuel. At this rate, we’d barely make any progress tomorrow.

“What was that?” Nerio’s unfamiliar voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Huh?”

“That thing,” He held out his one arm in a motion that vaguely reminded me of a blind man learning to swim, “when you lit the fire.”

I guess it’s hard to recreate a two-hand ritual with one hand, but still. . . That was pretty bad.

“And,” He continued, “whatever you did to make your horse that fast.”

“Oh, that. That was magic,” He raised an eyebrow. It was a mellow reaction compared to what I usually got, but a reaction nonetheless, “I’d wow you with some spells right now, but I’m flat out of it after today.”

“So,” He opened the small bag, pulled a premade meal out of it, and began to cook it over the fire, “If you’re a wizard-”

“Magician,” I interrupted.

“If you’re a magician, how good of one are you? You know, comparatively.”

“How good am I?” I gave the question five seconds more thought than was needed, and after eight seconds of silence, I answered, “I’m the most powerful mage in the world!” I slapped my chest for emphasis, and Vivian poked his head out of my shirt to swear at me. I patted him to apologize, but he refused to accept it and ran over to Nerio. All the while taunting me over his “new best friend who won’t abuse him.” When Vivian hoisted himself onto Nerio’s lap, Nerio looked at me, then Vivian. I shrugged, Vivian swore at me again, and Nerio began to gently pet him.

He looked up at me a minute later with another question: “How many other magicians are there?” Vivian asked for some food, but Nerio was incapable of understanding him. Vivian looked back at me and demanded that I make Nerio able to do so. I ignored him; he should be more than capable of showing his “new best friend” that he wants some food.

“Well, it’s actually just my family that can utilize magic, and only my mother, my grandmother, and I can use it to any noticeable degree.”

Nerio laughed that stifled sort of laugh you do when you don’t want to appear rude, but the situation was too humorous for you to hold it in, “So, you’re the greatest magician out of three magicians?”

“Hey! I may not have much to compare myself to, but I’m still a capable mage!”

“I didn’t say you weren’t. I mean, you made a horse outrun a modern motor vehicle. Even if my bike wasn’t thirty years ahead of its time, that’s still plenty impressive.”

“That reminds me,” I said after being reminded of what I was going to say next, “out of all the people in the race, Nerio, you were the only person that was able to keep up with me. Why is that?”

“That’s because we’re in a team. If I lost you, we’d lose time looking for each other,” He said, dodging the question. Normally I wouldn’t allow such a thing, but I was too tired to try to argue with him. So, I pulled a bag of deer jerky from Zippy’s saddlebag and began to eat. I wasn’t particularly hungry, but I needed a positive sum of magic to be able to cast the spell on Nerio I needed in order to get around his stupid word labyrinth.

I took a piece of jerky in my mouth and began to chew. I stopped in amazement and pulled it from my mouth.

Nerio stopped petting Vivian and pulled a First Aid kit from his backpack. Vivian swore and bit him, “What’s wrong Etteilla?”

“I’m fine,” I said. Nerio returned the medical kit and tried to rub his bitten arm. He couldn’t and instead stared at the small welt. Vivian mocked his weakness, among other things, “It’s just that, this jerky is practically made of whatever it is that fuels magic.”

“You mean you don’t know where your magic comes from?”

“I mean, my grandmother knew, but she never told me, and my mom never cared enough about magic to bother learning the nitty-gritty of it. Either way, meat normally just provides a small amount after it is cooked; even less when dried. Yet this is like concentrated magic.” I took another bite of the strip, “Tastes like garbage though.”

I reached for another strip, five or six more would completely refill my reserves, “Are those a local brand?” Nerio asked.

“Yeah. They’re centered in,” I struggled to read the label with only the campfire lighting it, “Rock Springs Colorado.”

“So you won’t be able to find more during the race then. . .” Nerio glanced at his watch, “Can I see them?” I handed Nerio the bag, keeping the two pieces still in my hand, “Is this the only bag you bought?”

“No, there is more in the saddlebag,” I said between mouthfuls of jerky.

He walked over to the saddlebag and pulled out two other packages of jerky, forgetting to ask permission to go through my bag. Over the next few minutes, he wordlessly packed all of his other belongings away before stowing them back on his motorcycle. He looked at his watch when they were all packed. It was 9:00. At 9:01, he placed the two unopened and one opened packages of jerky into the storage box on his motorcycle.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“This?” Nerio tried to sit down but Vivian had taken his spot. Vivian looked at me and admitted that where he was was uncomfortable, but it would spite “the lazy one” so it had to be done.

So much for “new best friend.”

“Think of this as a trust exercise between us.” He responded after finding a new seat.

“Cool. I trust you to tell me what you are doing.”

“But that would defeat the purpose of the exercise. We’re going to be racing together for who knows how long, so we need to be able to trust each other. I need you to trust that what I am doing will benefit you.”

“And to do that I need you to tell me what you are doing.”

He sighed. I was clearly not understanding whatever weird train of logic he was aboard, “It’s magic OK? I was going to make it a really cool reveal and surprise you so that I could segue into asking if you knew anything about magical items. But now I can’t; are you happy?”

Normally a response like that would only be said by someone under the effects of the third arcane, like Vivian. A few minutes of awkward silence passed. At 9:10 I broke it, asking when I would be able to have my food back.

Nerio looked at me, then his watch, “They should be good now.” He pulled the three bags from his bike then handed them to me.

“Now that it’s over can you tell me what it did?”

“That? The bike has an artifact built into it. It’s a little hard to explain, but you should have three new bags of jerky every day now.”

I nodded, then actually noticed what he had said, “Artifact?”

“Yeah, like when you use a digital camera and there’s stuff in the printed image that wasn’t there when you took it. Like Moiré patterns and weird white space.” I nodded again.

“The hell is a digital camera?”

“Oh, right. Then, imagine you’re. . . What are you doing?”

I knelt beside him, “Making this easier for me,” I said as I drew a circle around his ear.

Arcana three: Communication.

“I guess this is some kind of spell? [Can you explain how it works to me?]”

“Huh, yeah. [It’s the arcane of communication. It conveys the meaning of our words to each other.]”

Nerio’s eyes widened as he realized that the words I spoke and the meaning he understood differed, “So, you can read my mind now? [Will I never be able to keep secrets from you?]”

I smiled at him [There is no unwilling spread of ideas. Only the meaning you want to convey is communicated.].

He nodded [I don’t really understand how it works, but I don’t want to continue talking about it.], and moved a few more rocks around the fire before retrieving a sleeping bag from his motorcycle. The light of the fire danced upon the side of his bike, revealing a dark line within his two auxiliary gas canisters.

Nerio wormed his way into the bag, “You should be going to sleep soon. We’re going to have to start early to keep our lead [If you are not ready to leave by 6:00, I will tie you to my motorcycle and drag you with me.].

I assured him that I would and spent the next hour finishing the bag of jerky and watching the stars overhead. When I finally began to feel drowsy, I leaned a little lower against the tree and pulled my coat around myself to use as a blanket. It provided little protection from the biting wind which oftentimes even beat out the nearby fire, and I could almost feel the countless insects crawling from the tree to my body.

Next time I’m stopping at a motel.