Emma
“Does this sight not look familiar, Cadet Emma Booker of Earthrealm?”
Those were unexpected fighting words.
I felt a one-two knockout punch the likes of which matched the audacity of Ping and the conniving of Mal’tory, but with the sheer and unadulterated whimsy of Buddy and the library foxes.
To say I was thrown for a loop by the noblewoman’s question was an understatement.
And it was ironic in a way, how the most innocuous and innocent of personalities could leave me utterly floored, whereas those of the intentionally scheming variety just prior to this, left me barely fazed.
Perhaps it was the subject matter being broached.
But that was only the second half of the one-two knockout punch that left me proverbially floored.
No, what really had me, and what really elicited such a reaction… was her referring to me by name.
And while that point would’ve been somewhat innocuous in and of itself — given how I realized my fame… or infamy would’ve probably spread amongst the student body by now — it was how it was framed in context that really threw me for a loop.
“Does this sight not look familiar, Cadet Emma Booker of Earthrealm?”
Had she figured it out?
Was she hinting at something that no one else had been able to piece together, save for my immediate circle?
Was she actually referencing Earth’s space capabilities, our knowledge on the stars, and the absolute state of humanity’s presence amongst them, all in one fell swoop?
Or…
…
Was she implying that this vantage point, this specific patch of the night sky, was Earth’s?
…
It couldn’t be.
It didn’t match any on record.
The EVI would’ve pointed that out the moment those stars started flickering on, and its internal processes still read as PENDING for my latest request.
So what exactly was she implying?
Was she saying that this was somehow Earth’s stellar coordinates within the galaxy as calculated by a Nexian astronomer?
How could she have—
Unless…
What if this was actually humanity’s second contact?
No, that’s not plausible.
What if some other civilization from the milky way had contacted the Nexus first? What if this was their patch of sky, dredged up from the club records, and then presented to me as some sort of a ‘gotcha’ moment?
Perhaps that was what this was all about?
Perhaps—
“Too stunned to speak, I see! I see, I see…” She poked me further through a mischievous, deliberately playful chuckle, a sly expression soon forming, before an abrupt snoooorrrt caused all pretenses of her otherwise pseudo-enigmatic persona from coalescing into anything even remotely threatening.
But it was clear that wasn’t the intention to begin with. As her eyes scanned me up and down, eager for a response in spite of my otherwise permanent poker face.
“I can’t say it is.” I finally managed out, answering her outright, and enunciating each word as I attempted to pick apart her game, her angle.
“Oh? Is that so?” She pushed further, placing her chin between a hand and an outstretched palm.
“Yes… I don’t recognize any of these constellations, at least not from the patches of sky on my world.” I offered earnestly.
This somehow managed to completely take the elf by surprise, as something spooled to life behind those eyes of her, a slow, gradual, revving of the biological substrate within that noggin of hers, before finally, she blurted out a rapid-fire series of observations, questions, and even more observations.
“Wait that was not my intenti— Ah. Oh? AH?! Oh by his eternal graces you’re joking?... Unless you aren’t? Are you joking? Surely you are! This is a joke, right? Oh, no, you’re being serious. Oh by His Eternal Wisdom. No, my apologies I— I MEANT THAT AS A GENERAL CONVERSATIONAL ICE BREAKER! YOUR ANSWER IS IMPLYING THAT YOU HAVE PUT ALL STAR CHARTS TO MEMORY! SURELY YOU DON’T MEAN TO CLAIM THAT, DO YOU?!”
It was as if she was speaking faster than her brain could process the information, or more specifically, that point of inference.
“I… I have, or at least sort of, in a way.” I replied.
“WHAT?!”
“But er, more to the point, you’re saying that this was just an ice breaker?”
“Oh, I must clarify, Cadet Emma Booker! I was merely questioning whether or not you find such a sight to be… well… a sight for sore eyes! An… analogue of how the skies exist in your realm, as opposed to how they are in the Nexus! A sort of a, er, warm reminder of home I suppose!” The elf interjected with a series of flapping hands, as if trying to calm me down from a nonexistent panic… or perhaps it was her own means of calming herself down from her panic. “... or more specifically an attempt to assess whether or not your realm possesses stars at all…” She spoke as an aside… to literally no one in particular; partially taking that ‘theatre of life’ thing way more literally than anyone should. “But I digress! It was a poor opening statement! I did not mean to infer that this was your realm’s night sky! For every night sky is different, this, however, just so happens to be one of many!”
I blinked, as I felt that growing conspiracy theorist within me crumble under the glut of her own overeager machinations.
The weight of her far-fetched ideas, once reasonable and sound in the heat of the moment, now sank into its own foundations.
Well… that was that whole hypothesis completely thrown out the window.
[Note: Cross-Reference Search and Analysis… Complete. No match to visited systems found on local database.]
And there goes another…
Expand search to unvisited/unlogged starmaps? [Y/N]
But there was at least still hope—
[Notice to Operator: Analysis constrained by incomplete survey dataset. Full spherical map required for accurate results. Potential of false positives noted beyond acceptable margin of error under mission survey statistical parameters.]
—even if that hope was pegged with an asterisk.
So with a nod, I sent the EVI back to work, leading me to dissect the mystery behind the constellations above the old fashioned way.
This was the second point of interest, after all.
“Funny that you should mention that… because now I’m curious.” I finally managed to get a word in, letting out an exasperated sigh as if out of breath on the elf’s behalf. “Exactly where did you get the constellations for this specific patch of night sky?”
That question in particular… garnered a renewed vigor in the otherwise frantic elf. As she calmed down in a near instant, once more putting on her most stoic game face, and smiled. “An excellent question. So you too understand its significance, don’t you, Cadet Emma Booker?”
I blinked, once more turning to the ‘stars’ above, then shrugging. “I’ll be honest with you, Lady Lovguard, I’m struggling to see what you’re trying to get at. Buuuutt… if I were to try to guess… considering this is the first star field we’re seeing upon entry into the bowels of this storied club, I imagine this to be pretty significant. Maybe the first night sky mapped by the club?” I offered.
“Heh.” Lovguard let out a confident snicker, before adjusting her glasses with two fingers and a purposeful, spell-aided glint.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 100% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
An entirely novel spell by the looks of it… cast for the sole purpose of the rule of cool.
Or at least, what Lovguard considered to be cool.
“An astute theory, Cadet Emma Booker. Very astute indeed…” She grinned. “And indeed, somewhat correct, but not in the way you might think~. You see, what you are currently witnessing is the Grand Alignment, Harmonic Convergence to those of a different age, but we don’t really say that anymore because…” She paused, turning momentarily towards Thacea. “Whilst harmonic is a perfect term, there are allusions to a different form of harmonization, soooooo the term Grand Alignment was adopted instead.” She ‘clarified’... without really clarifying much at all.
“But I digress! What you are seeing is the pinnacle of what we aspire to study, analyze, and document in the realm of astromancy. For the sights and sensations that you see and feel above you, are what could potentially open up an unlimited flurry of opportunities for practically every adjacent realm! Because in astromancy, we strive to understand the motions of the tapestry. We eagerly gaze up at the thick billowy roof and we wonder to ourselves — how do you work? We try to understand, unravel, and dissect what others may see as imperfections, flaws, and markers of inferiority, for what they truly are — opportunities. In short, Cadet Emma Booker, we study the patterns of the great tapestry above, to determine what — if any — meaning can be derived from their arrangement. A meaning that goes beyond what some may label as superstitions, and when harnessed correctly, can lead to the enhancement of magical potential in the adjacencies!” She raised both arms up in a grand and epic display, one that I’d assumed she’d follow up with fireworks given her flair for the dramatic.
Yet none came.
Or at least, that’s what I thought.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 700% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
ALERT (WAID): NOVEL MANAFLOW DETECTED. SUPERIMPOSE MANA-VISION LAYERING? [Y/N]
I narrowed my eyes, darting them to gauge Thacea and Thalmin’s reactions first, both of whom seem to be at the very least marginally intrigued by what they saw.
“Yes.” I blinked in acknowledgement.
At which point, the WAID was quick to fill in what Ilunor had consistently labeled as ‘gaps’ in the world the human eye was simply not equipped to handle.
I’d become somewhat accustomed to the whole ‘mana-current’ thing since that fateful observation, however.
The closest thing I could liken it to was an extra-sense that made every single air current around you, and a few extras, visible to an extent.
Then again, I’d be remiss if I didn’t say that ‘vision’ was probably not the best analogue for this.
Because this was a completely extra sense, an alien form of ‘seeing’ that didn’t neatly translate to sight as we knew it. It’d be like saying you could ‘see’ cosmic background radiation, or ultraviolet radiation. You could, of course, by using specialized instruments that translated those wavelengths into the visual spectrum, but it’d always just be that — an analogue, converted for our limited scope of understanding.
All of this was to say, because of the WAID, I’d become somewhat ‘used’ to what the baseline ‘norm’ levels of mana-currents were in the Nexus; as ‘imperfect’ as that analogue may be.
But it was more than enough to make this whole demonstration… work.
Even to my human eyes.
Because the room around us seemed to have had both the density and intensity of those currents cleaved in half.
And it was clear exactly why that was the case, given everything Lovguard had spouted out so far.
This was supposed to be an attempt to replicate the conditions of an adjacent realm.
Which, when coupled with the WAID diverting my attention ‘skywards’, painted Lovguard’s whole spiel — which I’d have initially dismissed as being in the same league as astrology in terms of its practical considerations — in a completely different light.
The reason for this was simple.
The stars above? These supposed ‘tears’? They were leaking. Or more specifically, they were—
“—practically bleeding mana from beyond the tapestry, straight from the primavale!” Lovguard spoke, more or less completing my tacit observations.
The effects of which were quite clear.
What had been the ‘weaker’ mana currents of an adjacent realm was now boosted by a significant margin courtesy of the mana flowing down from the ‘stars’ — or more accurately ‘tears’ — above.
I’d have let out a disparaging huff if it wasn't for both Thacea and Thalmin’s growing intrigue.
“So what you’re saying here is that your definition of ‘stars’, is simply—”
“Points of light in the night sky, yes. Celestial ‘bodies’ of sorts, ‘formed’ by the constant shifting, movement, growth, and failure of the tapestry above!”
“Right.” I let out a sigh, before turning to both Thacea and Thalmin, a tentative pit forming in my stomach as a dark realization quickly dawned. “We touched on this before.” I spoke cryptically, knowingly, as both parties understood exactly what I was referring to. “So is this whole… demonstration accurate? You know, because… earthrealm is sooooo deficient in mana, and my own mana senses are probably tooooo weak to be able to determine if this is in any way accurate.” I ‘played’ into the stereotypes for now, if only to facilitate this conversation without overplaying my hand.
“Yes.” They both nodded, their words coalescing, but not into any grand sense of awe or wonder that Lovguard seemed to possess.
Instead, that simple acknowledgement more or less cemented that pit in my stomach into a twisting, writhing, gut-wrenching conclusion.
If that was the case… if even adjacent realms possessed some sort of a tapestry… did that mean they were essentially trapped?
Another, seemingly unrelated, yet so viscerally relevant memory suddenly clawed itself to the forefront of my mind.
I finally understood what the spacers meant.
It took going to a completely different dimension to finally, and very viscerally, relate to what a certain hard-core spacer friend had once mentioned in complete seriousness.
“There’s a reason why I never go planet-side. It’s not because of agoraphobia or anything, I mean, I like the comfort of enclosed spacers like any true spacer, unlike those O’Neill cylinder posers, but I digress. The point I’m trying to make is this: life on a planet is fricking terrifying. You Earthers, Venutians, Martians, and so on and so forth like to talk about the skies above as if they were the epitome of freedom and liberation. Like seeing this infinite mass above you makes you feel more free than when ‘trapped’ in a metal tube in space. But I don’t see it as that. I see the skies above as this weird sort of… cage. Like a lid. One that you can’t ever escape. Yeah, I know, the merciless vacuum of space would kill me if I leave, sure. But there’s always a shuttle I could just hop on and just… go? The idea of being trapped on a planet, of being ‘domed’ without a clear ‘escape’; without being able to touch the stars and just go between the infinite places that float amidst them? That just messes with the spacer mind in ways that I can’t even begin to describe. I know it’s dumb to say, I know it’s an irrational feeling, but it just bugs me you know?”
I tried to relate.
But I never could ever ‘get’ what Ada had meant.
Now?
I could feel her ‘irrational thoughts’ to my very bones.
When the skies above were actually a barrier, when they acted less as a collection of gases and something… viscerally blocking the view of what lies beyond?
That…
That kills all sense of freedom, or even hope of escaping the planet beneath your feet.
I felt a chill run down my spine, as the sight filled me not with the optimism Lovguard seemed to be full of, but just… dread.
It was a nauseating feeling of entrapment, entombment, and imprisonment, like you were somehow entombed in a snowglobe, with ample breathing room and space, but still effectively trapped.
Maybe it was my 3047 sensibilities talking.
Freedom of movement had been enshrined and constitutionally entrenched following the P-MASL protocols, after all.
This meant that the idea of just hopping off to the Moon, Jupiter, Pluto, or even Alpha Centauri and beyond was just a click away.
The stars in the night sky were always a reminder of that, of the wonders of the cosmos and how we’d quite literally managed to make those twinkling lights and the darkness between them our home.
It was different then, when you looked at this specific night sky, and saw not a destination, or even a far-off location, but a literal tear in a smothering blanket that kept your aspirations tethered to your one, singular world.
I could’ve written a whole essay on this.
Indeed, the report on this would probably be just that.
But now wasn’t the time for that.
I needed to get to the bottom of all of this here, and now.
“So you’re saying astromancy assumes that all adjacent realms are entom—, er, surrounded by tapestries and then smothered further within a primavale, just like the Nexus, right?” I clarified.
“Correct!” Loveguard nodded with glee.
“But the main difference here is that while the Nexus has a ‘flawless’ tapestry, one without holes in it for primavalic light to pass through, the adjacencies — due to some flaw or what have you — do possess those holes, right?”
“Indeed, indeed!” The elf nodded yet again.
“So where does the mana come from?” I questioned bluntly, garnering an immediate cock of Lovguard’s head. “What Professor Vanavan has taught us prior to this was that primavalic energies are channeled through the dirt and emerges as various manatypes coming up through manasprings. Is this true for the adjacent realms as well? If so, are these holes in the tapestry just another way for mana to seep through?”
“Ahh! That! Therein lies the key to understanding astromancy, Cadet Emma Booker~! For you see, adjacencies do operate on the principles analogous to the Nexus, but the specifics behind such… allude even me.” The elf quickly conjured up two magical holograms, both appearing above her two outstretched palms.
On the right was the Nexus, a disc-like flatland, with edges demarcated as this featureless, formless, forever-expanding plane.
But on the left is where things got interesting.
Above her left palm was a sphere, a globe, one which rotated on its axis.
However, before I could fully process that information, both ‘landmasses’ were soon shrouded within a sort of dark fabric, with the sphere being completely covered… whilst the Nexus’ seemed to only be covered along its surface.
A final addition was quick to manifest, a glowing, ethereal, golden aura that soon saturated the area around the shrouds.
“While the Nexus enjoys an uninhibited and abundant cycling of mana, through primavalic energies surging deep from beneath the earth and up through manasprings… adjacencies — as far as I am aware of at least — simply lack that inherent feature. Through means I have not yet fully grasped, mana does indeed seep through manasprings in a similar manner… but in far, far less concentrations. But, and you must bear with me here, this is where astromancy comes into play! For it is through these otherwise haphazard and formless energies seeping through the tears above that adjacencies may one day enjoy the fruits of greater magical potential! We only need—”
“—to one day understand exactly what patterns and in what order and in what specific and precise arrangements we need these holes in the tapestry to be in order to harness their transient powers, yada-yada-yada, yeah yeah yeah.” Another voice emerged from beneath the floorboards, one preceded by a sharp hiss of smoke, before finally, another figure broke through.
The IFF sensors registered this boar-like student as a complete unknown. However, in spite of the soot and ash covering his cloak, I could at least still make out a ‘third year’ marker on his uniform.
“Lord Gornish Patlowe, third year, enchantment and structural secretary. Or whatever titles are needed to make this whole operation bearable.” The boarish man sighed out in exhaustion, throwing what appeared to be a whole pile of mini-safes to the floor, singed, burned, and completely battered.
This sent Lovguard into a complete fit, as she dropped everything in that instant, if only to check each and every safe, opening, closing them, and then opening them again, as if trying in desperation to avoid the reality she was faced with. As if opening and closing them repeatedly could undo the damage done inside.
“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”
“I didn’t do anything.” Gornish shrugged. “The old guard seemed to have put quite a hefty anti-theft spell on it. Couldn’t do anything about it, sorry.” He shrug without a care in the world.
“WHAT?!”“Hey, you told me to grab the safes. I wasn’t told they’d have this degree of counter-theft measures placed on them.”
“UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Lovguard wailed, falling to her knees as she grabbed the piles of what I assume were once scrolls, now reduced to mere ashes, crumbling through her fingers.
“I could… see if Professor Sorecar could piece them back toge—”
“It’s no use…” Lovguard whined. “The spells used were—” She paused, before her voice did yet another complete 180. “Wait. Did you say Professor Sorecar?”
“Erm… yeah? I mean, he definitely can do stuff like that I thi—”
“THAT-WOULD-BE-GREAT-THANK-YOU!” She spoke in a single, jumbled word of a sentence.
“I… Okay, I mean, I don’t see why you wouldn’t approach him yourself—”
“We don’t need to get into that haha…” She quickly responded with two wide bulging eyes, a sly, almost abashed look about her face, and a single hand that attempted to wave the mere thought of approaching that topic away. “But I’d really appreciate it if you could! Oh! That could be part of your candidacy trials! Yes yes yes! That ought to do it!” She grinned, standing triumphantly with both hands held in fists against her hips.
At which point.
CREEEAAAAKKKKKK
The door from above opened.
At which point—
Fwwooooshhhhh!
—the ashes in front of the pile of safes were quickly whisked away.
Her gleaming, excitable grin, didn’t immediately break.
But it was her eye twitches that gave it away first, followed by a series of gasps, a complete reversion of her smile, and another scream and wail.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” She yelled, managing to at least recover a good chunk of the dust with a series of spells, along with the help of the clearly-exhausted Gornish.
After that was done, she quickly directed her attention to the interloper above, glaring daggers at the club secretary; a man who’d since sloooowwwlly poked his head in through the doorframe.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?! DID YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ALMOST DID—?!”
“Just wanted to say that we’re due to hand in our club membership numbers for the night. Anything else will be logged in for the morning. Also I’m tired, I’m heading back to the dorms soon whether you like it or not. So… what’s it gonna be, do we sign up the newrealmer and her compatriots or…?”
“UGH!!!! YES! SIGN THEM UP!”
“Er, actually, we were just escorting our peer. We weren’t intending to sign up for any more clubs for the night.” Thalmin interjected.
“MAKE THAT JUST THE NEWREALMER THEN!” Lovguard amended.
“So… what do I put here for their candidacy trials—”
“SUCCESSFULLY RESTORED OLD RECORDS AND COMPLETED ANCIENT PUZZLES, THERE, DONE, NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!”
With those final few wails, the secretary shrugged and nodded, pulling his head back through the doorframe just as slowly as he did when entering, before shutting the door without much care to the disgruntled fumes of his clublord.
“Right, where were we?” She just as abruptly came back down to earth with a smile, turning to us with an expression that read universally as ‘I’ve had a long, long day’.
“You were giving me some ashes to send to professor Sorecar?”
“Oh yes! Most certainly! But was there anything el— Oh! Yes! The principles of astromancy. So—”
“—you first-years must be wondering why this hasn’t really taken off.” Gornish interrupted, dusting himself off with a quick cleansing spell.
“LORD PATLOWE! HOW DARE YOU?!” Lovguard turned around with an indignant glare.
“That was, actually, the other thing I wanted to address, Lady Loveguard.” I admitted. “If this whole field of study has so much promise — which, trust me, it really does seem like it on paper — why has it not reached the heights it should?” I made sure to word my question carefully, planting the crumbs of interest to continue being in the good graces of one of the more… amicable seniors I’ve seen thus far.
“Heh. The secretary’s whole claims of this being mere superstition still hangs heavy over your head, I assume?” Lovguard managed out under a frustrated breath.
“Well… there’s that as well, but it is a point I wish to clarify especially as I am going to join—”
“No, no. You’re right, Cadet Emma Booker.” Lovguard admitted, somewhat defeated, but more so tired. “You deserve an explanation.” She smiled weakly, as she ushered us towards the next room over within this underground complex.
We arrived first into a completely dark cavernous room.
Then, with a flicker of the magical lamps above, this whole space became a million times more impressive.
Because within its confines were thousands of celestial globes, no two orbs alike, with every model clearly being different from the next not just in the stars they purported to chart out, but also in the size of the globes, their materials, and even down to the handwriting and woodworking of each and every object.
It was clear this whole room housed lifetimes worth of work.
“Within this room are the works of so many that truly believed in astromancy. Some of which, now favored realms, have managed to partially succeed in harnessing the power of the stars. Though most never actually attain such heights. And many more simply… can not.” Lovguard admitted with a disgruntled sigh. “We still have no idea what causes this. Whenever we believe we have cracked some universal principle, it becomes clear that each tapestry must be studied on a case by case basis. And even when we try doing that, some tapestries just refuse to comply with our localized models! It’s as if some just don’t… conform to any known principles, locally-adapted or otherwise!” She vented harshly.
“What you saw above you in the room outside was supposed to be the theoretical pinnacle of our studies… but it never was. It’s as if there’s something working against us. But that’s never a reason to give up!” She attempted to power through the rapidly degrading mood she’d inadvertently traveled into.
“I have hope that we’re simply missing something, a clue, an overlooked principle, something that could cast a new light on everything we’ve learned. And perhaps, with your membership, we can learn something new we haven’t ever considered before! You, and your rather… anomalous sensibilities, if I were to put it politely!”
“I… am quite flattered, Lady Lovguard. Though, if I may, I just have another, far more personal question to ask.”
“Please do!”
“I’ve only seen elves berating, or talking dismissively of adjacent realms prior to this point. I was curious why you of all people seem so motivated to bring astromancy back from the brink?”
“Oh! That’s easy! I was born in an adjacent realm!”