Refraiming

Refraiming

“We welcome the Great God, the unity, the Divine Mind that is both the universe and the person. We call upon the great teacher, thrice great, thrice born, ibis, child, star, giver of all arts and wisdom. We call upon that which is greatest and that which is least. In their sacred and perfect wisdom, let the stars above summon up the starry universe within....”

The droning prayers rolled back and forth between the masked astromancers. Truth sat cross-legged and naked between the ritualists, trying to channel the Stellar Dowsing Elixir along the courses of his body.

The astromancers, one male and one female, had created a ritual room of such perfection that Truth could hardly believe it existed. The mathematically perfect alchemical sulfur and mercury tracings covered the eggshell-thin alabaster walls, acting as a fulcrum between the stars above and the human below.

The entire room was suspended at the bottom of the ship, stabilized within a vast gyroscope. This ensured the rituals were always precisely aligned with the heavens and whatever stellar patrons were invoked. The astromancers promised perfection and, given what their mortal patrons were paying, made sure to deliver it.

The Stellar Dowsing elixir was delivered in a cut glass vial, every millimeter of which was covered in spells carved directly into the glass. The stopper was some alchemical marvel, warm to the touch and perfectly sealed against air, water, and stellar rays. Two hulking combat magi, level three at a minimum, had escorted the ship’s Purser, who delivered it directly to the ritual room in a velvet-lined rosewood box. The liquid was the blue of the sky just before sunrise, and the twinkle of the fading stars danced within it.

The astromancers sat Truth in a carefully emptied square, inside a circle, inside a triangle, all marked and measured with symbols whose significance Truth did not understand. His job was to sit very still, allow his internal stellar energy to circulate as usual, and when the Stellar Dowsing elixir was dropped on his third eye, allow the energy to flow through him. Mark carefully it's passing. And then help it work its way into his spell apertures.

Truth earned more than five years of base salary on his last job, and he was pretty sure that the credits in his account would not buy twenty minutes of the astromancers' services. Astromancy was a dangerous job requiring decades of study to become an initiate. But the results were equally incredible.

A universe was revealed inside of Truth. He could feel the swirl of the stars, the vast, indifferent patronage of those great spirits blessing him with their power and wisdom. He was part of them. They were part of him. They were all part of some great perfection he could not directly perceive but whose existence he could perfectly infer, like gravity.

Nine great stars existed within him. Nine places for magic to dwell. He had to find them. The first was easy, a small, reddish star- but growing. The next one was harder, a clump of nothing inside him, shimmering with promise. He felt the stars from the elixir gather around this star in waiting and swirl more and more tightly, bringing it to the very edge of ignition, then stop and spread throughout his universe. Seven more stellar coordinates were found and graced with swirling starlight.

The droning chant took on a subtly different tack-

“For there is nothing in all the cosmos that he is not. He is himself, the things that are and those that are not. Those that are he has made visible; those that are not, he holds within him. This is the god who is greater than any name; this is the god invisible and entirely visible. This god who is evident to the eyes may be seen in the mind. He is bodiless and many-bodied; he is all-bodied...” The astromancers voices echoed back and forth, and now, rather than finding his spell apertures or helping fill them, the elixir began to widen and deepen them.

The alignment of the stars above, the mystical sigils directing the stellar rays, the crushing will, and the focus of the astromancers all focused on Truth. The stars of the elixir refined the apertures, ensuring that his spells would be more potent in the future. The magic within him would be less fragile or susceptible to demonic attack. The map of his soul was gently tugged into cleaner alignment with his body. The moment of refinement seemed to stretch beyond even the concept of time itself, and Truth became lost in the heavens within him.

Some unknowable time later, the gentle tapping of a bell brought him back to himself. He was coated in sweat and felt exhausted. It was odd and wonderful.

“Your treatment is complete and a complete success. Congratulations. Your future advancement will be remarkable. You may be tempted to take additional elixirs or supplements and immediately break through to Level 2- resist that temptation.” The male astromancer spoke, slightly swaying on his feet.

“Right now, your body is in a very special condition. Just let the natural accumulation of stellar rays gently open your second aperture- the results will be vastly better. Please enjoy this complimentary bottle of spring water, drawn from the Tear of the Eye of Mejuid. You are likely very dehydrated.” The female astromancer sounded like she was making a rote speech, also clearly exhausted.

“I will. Thank you. Anything else I should know or do?”

“Sure, sure...”

It reminded him of doing his drop armor training- going up so high, you could see the world's curvature. See its vastness with distance, but lose the endless detail below. The other guests gave him that feeling- that they inhabited the sky above a vast world, a world he was too close to, lost in the details.

On the last day, he was summoned to the aft of the ship, handed a duffel with a clean set of clothes, his Starbrite pin, and a complimentary gift bag with mini-toiletries. A spell bird lay on the roosting pad, waiting to ferry people to shore. With the soft thunder of mighty wings, the construct carried them back to the real world.

Truth spent a lot of time with the Sibs. Many hugs were dispensed, and some strategic investments in wardrobe and furnishings. Credits weren’t inheritable, but he could set them up well in case anything happened to him. He got bombarded with questions about which scry star he rescued.

“So? Are you going out? She knocked up yet?” Sophie asked with a worrying degree of interest.

No, they were not going out. Which Truth didn’t regret. Yoo Sung looked amazing on scry, and she was definitely gorgeous in real life, but she always seemed withdrawn. A mannequin woman. Like she could only really exist on camera, and everything else was just making sure those moments of existence came into being. It was something that made him laugh in therapy. He would cheerfully knock out a bar full of thugs to get a date- but not one like her.

Sergeant Murthey greeted him with genial warmth. “Oh fuck, he’s back. Yeah, yeah, you are up for promotion, but we don’t review for promotions until the end of the year. Don’t tell me what the fuck happened ‘cause I officially don’t want to know. Officially. As in, I was told, in writing, "DON'T ASK.”

“Got it, Sarge. Great to see you too.”

“Jump up your own ass and die.” He paused. The sergeant had spoken reflexively and had sidetracked himself. With a slight shake, he carried on. “That being said, welcome back and all that. We will start you off nice and easy- some babysitting gigs, package escorts, that kind of thing.”

“Sarge, that sounds boring as hell.”

“Oh, not only is it boring, the pay is shit too.” Sergeant Murthey sounded indecently excited by the prospect. “On the other hand, the one thing I am allowed to know about your situation is you just spent a week in the fucking hospital, so guess what? You get to be on light duty.”

Truth had a hard time arguing with that but wanted to try anyway.

“I got discharged! This is bullshit!”

“Take it up with HR.”

“Ha. Ha.” Truth growled.

“No, literally. That’s your next job. HR is hiring you. You get to escort a very special manager to a training retreat up in the mountains. Eight hours of sitting next to her in the hold of a cargo bird, each way.” The sergeant clasped Truth by the shoulder in an intimate, manly way. “Just remember, you are always in our thoughts. And prayers.”