Chapter Fifty-Five: The Shimmer and The Formless

Chapter Fifty-Five: The Shimmer and The Formless

Amelia quietly observed the first-year class. It was led by Instructor Kawas, who, aided by a handful of assistant instructors, inscribed first-circle formations in chalk on the room's enormous blackboard. The twenty-five students of Junior Class C did their best to copy the geometry into their notes, scratching away while Amelia listened in on Kawas’s instruction.

“Note the double-helix shouldn’t pass the heartline here,” Kawas intoned to the class, snapping a long cane against the blackboard. “The aetherflow must separate before; otherwise, you won’t have room to construct the dextral and sinistral triquetra here and here.” The instructor prodded at another area of the board, saying, “Those of you who struggle to form first-circle triquetras can use the simpler lemniscate as a replacement, although you’ll struggle to match the former’s efficiency. For the select few in the class who are already experienced with these sub-formations, consider replacing this area with a reuleaux triquetra; you’ll find the practice useful if and when you attempt second-circle wards.”

Amelia desperately wanted to grab a pen and paper and start copying earnestly. She couldn’t, of course. If she did, everyone would know she was a fraud! A charming and powerful fraud! Everyone naturally assumed that Amelia knew all the underlying theories and terminology that formed the building blocks of spellcraft, but she didn’t!

Amelia’s magical talents were entirely intuitive and instinctive. She didn’t think about this stuff at all! Her aether naturally moved according to her intentions; a determined push of her willpower would manifest her desired spell. Amelia wasn’t thinking about her aether flowing from double-helix spin formations into rouleaux triquetra amplification nodes; it just happened!

She had to admit she was impressed by the rigour of the academic study of magic. Instructors and students didn’t see aether as some mystical substance beyond human or demon understanding. It was a phenomenon that followed strict natural laws. When formed into specific three-dimensional shapes, the aether's behaviour was well understood and modelled with equations similar to the fluid-dynamics equations Amelia was familiar with from her old world.

Although using different symbols, the mathematical equations Kawas had written on the blackboard were almost identical to the partial differential equations that formed the Navier-Stokes equations Amelia had long since memorised. There were slight differences; where her version of the equation used a Cauchy stress tensor, the version on the blackboard used something called an aetheric flow tensor. These equations were called the Barfield-Sina Equations, named after the demons that discovered them seventy years ago.

Amelia made as many mental notes as she could. Thankfully, she hadn’t been approached by any students or instructors who wished to discuss magical theory with her. She wasn’t sure if it was considered impolite or if they were wary of working with a human, but Amelia was glad to have some breathing room. By taking advantage of her right as an instructor to sit in on any lecture she wanted, coupled with the mathematical books she’d checked out from the library, Amelia planned to quickly learn the nomenclature of the academic field so she could at least pretend she knew what she was on about.

These discovered mathematical structures that modelled aether highlighted how different Amelia’s reality was from the game she played in the hospital. The full-immersion game she put thousands of hours into didn’t have anywhere close to the detail she was now becoming aware of. Amelia previously thought perhaps the game represented a time in Cascadia’s past, but nothing she’d seen on any maps, names of people, kingdoms, or cities matched anything she’d discussed with Serena. The anti-climatic conclusion Amelia had come to was that the developers behind the game somehow possessed some knowledge of the real magic system and that they reproduced it virtually for entertainment.

Still, that didn’t explain why Amelia was in the situation that she was.

You couldn’t really gain real-world magical abilities by just playing a game, could you?

A clap by Kawas snapped Amelia out of her thoughts. The class moved into the practical part. Twenty-five students began trying to construct the formations on the blackboard. The more inexperienced of them began with simpler shapes and sub formations, while the more capable students experimented with complete formations, creating first-circle wards while adjusting their aether flows to better their understanding of the process.

Of the twenty-five students, only a couple seemed to stand above the rest, either at or close to second-circle magic. Serena had told her that graduating from an academy as a second-circle mage or an orange-aura warrior was good. Being capable of third-circle or yellow aura was excellent. It would guarantee a prosperous career in civilian life or, if they were on the officer course, a double promotion upon graduation.

When it came to a student communing a First Word, that event was exceptionally rare. Amelia had seen the hall of fame in the entrance hall listing the students who had achieved such a momentous achievement; it was a short list with often more than a decade in between names. Not even her fantastic girlfriend, the talented and ferocious Serena Halen, had managed to do it. She did see the names Takahiro Oshiro and Yuu Shun, which Amelia made the educated guess were the first names of Asamaywa’s greatlord and the academy's grumpy grandmaster.

Amelia hummed to herself while she watched the class. Instructor Kawas and her assistants offered help and advice to the struggling students. Some common issues the students faced were maintaining an aetherflow with sufficient velocity within their bodies, failing to construct the formation large enough, and difficulty controlling their aether to form the required shape. The assistants would demonstrate by sitting close to the students, constructing the formations themselves in an exaggerated size, and then flaring their aether so the student's perception of the aetherfield would give them a better understanding of how they should be doing it.

Amelia made a mental note to start practising exaggerated versions of the sub-formations. In the next class, she should be capable of helping out as long as she learns the terminology to go with it.

The class ended, and the students filtered out, some looking tired and frustrated. Amelia thanked Kawas and got directions on where to find Lunaria. When the aether addict wasn’t cycling aether in a training room, she would be consumed with some experiment or another in her laboratory at the top of the tower. As Amelia was already halfway up the tower, she would check the laboratory above first.

Amelia left the class and headed up the spiral staircase. On the way, any staff member she passed and even a few students nodded in acknowledgement. The news of her domination over Senior Class B spread like wildfire, and even though some students looked at her suspiciously, the majority treated her with growing respect.

As Amelia neared the top floor, she was surprised to find that the staircase didn’t end at a landing like the other floors. Instead, it coiled upwards through the ceiling, tapering into a steep staircase that ended at a large wooden door. Even before getting too close, Amelia sensed Lunaria's presence inside; the room was shielded with sound and aether muffling measures, yet with just a touch of focus, Amelia could easily recognise Lunaria’s familiar aether signature.

Just as she could detect Lunaria, the aether addict could detect her back. The demon’s voice could be heard from somewhere above, telling her to come right in. Amelia happily obliged, and with a cheerful, ‘excuse me!’, she opened the door, climbing up the last few steps into Lunaria’s laboratory.

Initially, Amelia noticed countless unique aether signatures scattered throughout her surroundings. Various cut crystals in different shapes and sizes were employed to harness and direct aether across numerous experiments. Crystals floated over copper-hued metal plates, others heated liquids, and some sparked electricity between them. Many crystals exhibited intricate cuts that exceeded what Amelia learned in yesterday's crystal-craft lecture.

In the center of the room, an enormous telescope, perhaps ten meters long, pointed at an opening in the ceiling. Lunaria must have taken over the tower's observatory and turned it into her laboratory.

The instructor in question stepped out from a pile of books and glassware. Unlike the first time they met, Lunaria wasn’t running any glamors. The demon’s silver hair and creased eyes gave her an aged, wise appearance.

“Feel free to have a look,” Lunaria said, gesturing towards the telescope. “Should still be pointed at the moon.”

“Can I?” Amelia replied with a grin. She walked over to the telescope and bent down to look through the eyepiece. Through it, she was greeted with the sight of the brilliant blue moon. The supernatural object gave off an ethereal lustre that was noticeable though it was daytime.

The surface, as best as she could see, varied heavily in terrain. Some parts of the moon’s surface shone brighter, while others were duller. She guessed this was due to different amounts of rock and crystal. Rimming the moon were thousands of smaller lights, too small to be seen even through the telescope.

“Are the lights surrounding it the crystals breaking off, ready to fall?” Amelia asked, not looking up from the telescope. Something about the moon made her want to keep looking, subtly pulling her attention.

“Yes,” came Lunaria’s reply. “The moons are constantly growing, and when the Chernykh limit is reached, the surplus tephra is ejected by the subsurface aethermagmatic activity.”

“They’re constantly growing!?” Amelia exclaimed, bringing her head up and looking at Lunaria. “How’s that possible? Where does the mass come from?”

“Well, if you figure that out, you’ll earn yourself a Golden Eagle,” Lunaria intoned with a smile. “They’re not considered supernatural for nothing.” The demon approached the telescope, producing a click as she flipped a lever. Lunaria gestured towards the eyepiece, saying, “Look again, do you see the two lines on the lens?”

Amelia put her eye against the telescope's eyepiece. Whatever Lunaria did caused two thin vertical lines to appear. They slightly inside the left and right edges of the moon. To the left of the first line were numbers.

“One three six,” Amelia mumbled. “What do they mean?”

“Distance,” Lunaria replied pointedly. “One hundred and thirty-six thousand kilometres. It measures the distance of the moon from our surface. Use the controls next to your right hand to adjust the lines. The controls by your left hand adjust the telescope's aim, magnification and focus. Adjust it so the moon fits perfectly between the two lines and read out the number.”

“Sure!” Amelia set about testing the different controls and seeing which ones did what. It took less than a minute for her to adjust the lines so they neatly hugged the blue moon. As the lines moved or the telescope’s magnification changed, so did the numbers. “One two nine,” she read out. Amelia looked up from the eyepiece to see Lunaria writing on a blackboard, adding the value to the end of a long list of descending measurements.

“How many are there?”

“There are forty-two Formless that we either know of directly or have hints of their existence. All that have been able to give their name have matched the list.”

“There’s a list?” Amelia replied.

“Etched in Anglish in the Cathedral of Bone. I can’t remember if it's been dated to any era, but it’s been there a while. Here.. I have a copy of it somewhere around here...” Lunaria delved into the stacks of books and a moment later reappeared clutching a thin tome. “Here we are! The Formless: Sightings and Conversations. The instructor flipped to one of the earlier pages. "On the left is a sketch of the original slab, but that’s in Old Anglish. On the right is the Imperial translation.”

Amelia looked at the drawing. She could read Old Anglish just fine; it was her mother tongue after all. Still, she suspected revealing that to Lunaria might not be best, so she forced herself to read from the Imperial translation. The list contained forty-two names. Strangely, every Formless lacked a surname and had unusual titles.

“Diego the Wanderer,” Amelia muttered, reading one of the names out loud. “I guess he travels around?”

“Exactly. Quite a friendly Formless as well. There are plenty of recorded conversations with him throughout the centuries, not just in Cascadia. Last decade, he stopped by a Federation land transport while they cooked lunch and discussed new culinary techniques.”

“Seriously?” Amelia raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously. Many of them carry nicknames based on their behaviour and actions.”

“So this... Chandra the Philosopher...?”

“Once refused to let a Highlord sleep for three days until they finished their debate about utilitarian ethical frameworks.”

“Sindr the Savior?”

“Known to lead troubled airships through storms and other problematic situations. Takes the form of a glowing ball of light.”

Amelia scanned the list and looked for Anathor. “Some of the names and titles are cut off,” she pointed out.

“The slab was broken at some point. Unless there’s another record somewhere, we only know the first few letters of some of them. Some have been encountered and verified their names and titles, but some have refused to elaborate.”

Amelia read the broken list. Alongside the missing names were comments by the book’s author.

Idalia the Gent- (Assumed Gentle or Gentleman. Never Encountered.)

Savia the- (Unknown title. Non-verbal. Two interactions, see p29 and p53)

Meilo- (Never encountered)

Mir- (Mirabel the Dancer, discovered 205 AV, p11)

Celes- (Celestina the Seamstress, discovered 176 AV, see p9)

Honora the- (Possibly Honora the Daring, see p34)

And then, one final name that was obscured by the slab's damage.

Anathor the K- (Unknown title, existence confirmed through Centralis Intelligence in 630 AV. See p60)

“Anathor... the Kind?” Amelia muttered. That would fit. Anathor was challenging to talk to sometimes, but he was always courteous to everyone on the ship. Would he know what his title was if he asked her? He wouldn’t get angry if she poked a little, would he?

“The Kind?” Lunaria questioned. “Do you know?”

“No, sorry, just guessing.” Amelia shook her head before tapping the book. “Can I take this? I’d like to read about the interactions people have had. The Formless are spoken about with such superstition by the sailors and the public. I want to understand them more.”

“Not a problem,” Lunaria said with a smile. “Is there anything else you wanted to ask?”

“No, thank you,” Amelia flashed her best smile and gave Lunaria a bow. “You’ve been so helpful! Thanks for your time, Lunaria!”

“Oh, you’re very welcome...” Lunaria waved a hand dismissively. “That said, I have some future experiments planned, which will require an awful amount of aether for a prolonged period of time. Would you be willing to help an old lady?” A dangerous glint appeared in the demon’s eyes.

What kind of experiments would this crazy aether addict want Amelia for?

“Mmm, sure thing!” Amelia chirped.

She wouldn’t come to regret that answer, would she?