1

01.04.2023

It is the Rise of Ium 762.702 in the third era. After the bloodbath of the victory over the War of six Iums and 120.000 years of fighting, Mezchinhar is rebuilding what was lost.

With their numbers decimated it will take time.

The old wizards know, as Order grows again, so does Chaos. But the young primal wizards coming into time now are ignorant of it. They come into a time of growth and rebuilding. A time of peace. Unaware that their role in the fight to come is all but inevitable.

 

—

I’m here in the ancient catacombs of Kantro where construction precedes even our awakening. We have found these catacombs two iums ago, or well, the planet Kantro itself which was at the time still encased in kilometres of ice.

Kantro lies in the Kan system, Xetalon Cluster, a very old system. Its star, B147, is a G2V-type Star near the end of its lifespan and currently expanding into a red dwarf.

This development caused the melting of the thick layers of ice that previously kept this wondrous structure of ancient and lost civilization hidden.

Zenozarax’ eyes were glued to the screen to his side as the wizard on the cast was slowly walking through the ancient structures presenting more facts and information about the planet itself and what they had found out so far about its long gone inhabitants.

Linked to the library console directly (and supposed to focus on the historical topics Grand Wizard Vasjano had given him to read this cycle) the sound of the cast was directly played back in his mind to not disturb the perfect silence in the reading room.

The wizard on screen was Magister Yobiganapati, who had dedicated all of himself to the exploration and discovery of time and space. One of the most prevalent and well known Timetravelers in Mezchinhar. This one was his keeper, a tall, lean wizard wearing a wonderful and intricate designed robe of green and white that flattered his build. He looked so well put together that Zenozarax was sure not a single detail of his appearance was left up to chance. He was gorgeous and Zenozarax admired the dedication. But more than that, he adored this cast.

His heart yearned to get out there, to see the multiverse himself. To explore and discover.

So everytime he got the notification he hung on Yobiganapati’s lips like his words alone were enough to nourish his souls forevermore.

Yobiganapati spoke with the high credence and clarity of voice mostly associated with wizards out of Mezdovat. He lacked the sense of dismissive arrogance though, Zenozarax liked that about him too.

“Zenozarax, I hoped to find you here.”

He flinched and, still connected to all of the console, his reflexes immediately switched the cast of Yobiganapati over to — well, the things he was actually supposed to do. Where his quick action would have been perfectly adequate to hide the fact, the smile on his face as he turned around was not.

“Where else would I be?” he almost chirped, and everyone in every chapter and plane of Mezdovat would have immediately known of his guilty conscience.

Leshodimar mustered him with a smile and the sense of parental resignation.

“You’ve been watching Yobiganapati again?”

“I would never! Not when there is—” Zenozarax vaguely gestured at the consoles “—all this important stuff to learn!”

Leshodimar had stepped up to his console and gently pushed his hands down. “Please, less of that. You’ll make the others nervous.” Leshodimar was no longer talking about the cast, but Zenozarax’ passionate use of hand movement.

“I know.” Zenozarax sighed.

“Who taught you that anyways?”

Zenozarax shrugged and Leshodimar sat down next to him at the console, acting as a good role model he even kept the proper distance again.

“I’ve got news about your applications,” he said and Zenozarax peaked up, but immediately saw that it wasn’t the news he hoped for.

“Trebebona and Octidete both declined, very politely of course and with good reason. Trebebona currently already has a Scion and an Acolyte, and he seemed rather — let’s put it like this, he looked very tired.” Leshodimar said with an excusing smile. “Octidete on the other hand is otherwise occupied. I didn’t ask further into it but in my talk with him I got the impression that it is some very sensitive work he is in no position to speak about.”

“I can wait till he’s done!” Zenozarax said eagerly. Octidete was a very renowned Timetraveler, one Yobiganapati had mentioned several times already of being instrumental in discovering new systems and worlds. If time was all it took to get tutelage under a wizard like him, he could wait. Surely. How long would it take? A few ticks? A year?

“No you can’t. You’re already short of crawling up the walls here. And as it stands it’s possible that he won’t be available for at least a few decades, Leshodimar explained.

“Oh.” Zenozarax’ eagerness faltered. That was… a little bit long to wait. But he could do it if he had to, he was sure of it. A challenge of patients. But Leshodimar had other plans for him.

“Also I want you out there. Distracted as you currently are dreaming about the multiverse, you’ll make more progress there I’d assume. I admit it’s not so easy right now, with the current influx of Primal Wizard; They sure can have their pick of the litter.

Does that make me the runt of the litter? Zenozarax murmured unhappily.

Leshodimar chuckled. Your grasp on idioms is remarkable considering you’ve never been out there yet.

I’ve been watching some movies. He admitted sheepishly.

Leshodimar nodded, Probably not what you were supposed to do, but not useless either as it seems. Then he returned to the topic at hand, I took the freedom to inquire with some wizards you haven’t considered, one of which was Moldiana. And they are willing to take you in.” Leshodimar beamed, trying very hard to convince him that it was fantastic news.

“Never hear of them,” Zenozarax said, only short of a pout. He didn’t want to be the Scion of any random wizard.

“Shows the lack in your reading,” Leshodimar reprimanded and turned to the console and gave the access panel a light touch that sparkled in the runes of his fingers. “Lord Wizard Moldiana.” The public file flashed up on the screen.

“Lord Wizard?” Zenozarax immediately rose from his deflated position with high attention scanning over the profile.

“Knew that would tickle you.” Leshodimar chuckled. “They are of the first circle, though not a Wizard of the Lords and they don’t resign in Mezaiz. Consequently, they have a little bit of a reputation of being difficult, you will hear of that, but do not let that fool you. I’m only distantly acquainted, but from all I know Moldiana is a proud wizard, but a fair one. If you treat him with respect, he will treat you in kind.”

“What do they do?”

“I’m not privy to the locations or the purpose of all his parts, but you’d stay with their Engineer.”

“A Timetraveler?” Zenozarax leaned forward, by now an excited sparkling filled his eyes.

“Unfortunately not, but—” Leshodimar added sharply before Zenozarax could deflate again. “A Prospector. He never lost his love of exploration. You won’t be the first to set foot in any new system, but you’d be right behind to survey and analyze.”

“That’s perfectly fine! That’s great!” Zenozarax jumped up. “When do I start?”

“Sit.”

Zenozarax groaned as his excitement was unceremoniously reigned in again and he dropped back down on the seat like a stone. “What?”

“First you need your second part.”

“Ohh. Right. Totally forgot about that.” Zenozarax laughed and that was the first disturbance in the quiet reading room that drew the judgmental gazes of several other wizards in here. “Sorry, sorry,” he said in pretended whisper that was loud enough to be heard in the room and ducked his head in a submissive manner to signale to the others that indeed he was sorry and they went back to their own work. Then Zenozarax turned back to Leshodimar.

“Can we start on that? Now?”

Leshodimar chuckled lowly, both of them talking considerably more quietly now, reducing Zenozarax’ voice to a conspiratorial hiss. Leshodimar seemed pleased, maybe a little bit proud even.

“We can once you finish your lessons with Vasya and Danosh. Once we’re at it, I need you to be available and it will take time.”

“I know that.” His wandering attention aside, he had spent a lot of time with Leshodimar so far and so he had gotten a pretty good grasp on the whole Soulturner thing. At least in broad basic strokes to know it would take a lot longer than a tick. “And I already know all the things Vasjano and Danodeno are talking about. I’m basically done already.”

“Not as far as they tell me. Danosh does confirm that you’re ahead of the group but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to participate. There is importance in following the steps closely, especially in matters as delicate as engineering and magic weaving. On the other hand, Vasya tells me you’ve been rather… distracted as of late. Which he finds most puzzling as you were so very dedicated during the history lessons of the known multiverse.”

Zenozarax ground his teeth with a frown. There was the urge to talk back and justify himself, but he had learned at least so much to know that talking back to any of his teachers, Leshodimar included, wasn’t getting him anywhere. But he couldn’t help but murmur, “Vasjano is just so boring.”

“It’s our history, it’s not boring, it’s vitally important for you to understand. Especially this last part. And you won’t make any good impression on Moldiana if you show ignorance to events they are old enough to remember.”

There was a logic to that.

“Alright. I’ll get it done. And I’ll do it properly. I promise.

“Good.” Leshodimar stood up, and then, turning back around by the strike of a nonchalant afterthought. “Ah, before I forget. You won’t be Moldiana’s only Scion.”

“That’s alright.” Zenozarax shrugged. Having the singular attention of a wizard of as high rank as Moldiana was an unlikely thing to ask for. He had heard of some Lord Wizard that had up to ten Scions at a time.

“Good.” His Soulturner smiled gently. “It will only be the two of you. You and Yoctotyr.”

“Oh to hell with that! No!”

“Language and volume, Zenozarax!”

Angry glances all around shot him in the back as he had considerably raised his voice. He didn’t care. But before he could air more of his anger Leshodimar said,

“There is value in this; This won’t be the last time you’ll have to work alongside someone you dislike. And Moldiana is sure to make both of you get over this childish squabble of yours.”

Zenozarax had physically bit his tongue to not snap back at that, stressing that Yoctotyr was plainly a dick and constantly nagging him for stupid reasons, but at his forceful silence Leshodimar nodded appreciatively.

I’m glad you can see my point.

Wait! Zenozarax said as Leshodimar had almost turned to leave again. Why is Yoctotyr with them? He never wanted to be a Timetraveler, or Prospector.

Moldiana’s a wizard of great experience. The purpose they hold now doesn’t limit them, Leshodimar said stiffly, which struck Zenozarax as odd but he didn’t know what to make of that. It was like there was something Leshodimar wasn’t telling him — but he couldn’t figure out why or what it would be in the first place.

Ah. He just said in lieu of a better answer and with that Leshodimar nodded satisfied and finally left.

Leaving Zenozarax with a flurry of mixed feelings he’d have to work through before he could even consider any further history lessons.

2

08.04.2023

The assembled Primal Wizards waiting for Grand Wizard Danodeno, their assigned Sage for the design and assembly of channelling devices, were scattered across the room, loosely forming a few, spread out groups that spoke to each other. But most of them were just quiet. Their classes were assembled new from lesson to lesson based on some logic Zenozarax wasn’t aware of, and so most of these wizards Zenozarax only knew passingly and even fewer by name. They were polite to each other but distant.

It had been different during his first few lessons. He had been different then too. Still new to time and his own existence, the presence of the others had been comforting and they had bonded quickly.

But he hadn’t seen those wizards since. They were still in his memories but he understood now that, in all likelihood, he wouldn’t meet them again.

Zenozarax still tried for some conversation here and there when his excitement got the better of him, but it wasn’t really appreciated by this particular group. And so he was quiet now. It didn’t feel too good. It felt like he didn’t quite fit in with them.

Grand Wizard Danodeno entered the large room with the usual stiff stride and hard look in his face.

I know you’ve all been eager to finally get your hands on these so I’ll not make you wait any longer, Danodeno said, wearing the heavy accent out of Mezax almost like a badge of pride and competence, and opened up the top of four table sized boxes.

A few of the other primal wizards exchanged some comments in hushed voices with a conservative amount of excitement but overall it was all very orderly.

The boxes opened up to a full selection of mobile channelling devices in all forms and sizes.

The first box closest to Zenozarax held a selection of wands. Dainty little things, good for one thing, and usually one thing only, and not more than that. Very situational. Very boring.

The second contained a couple laser pistols and even two rifles. The pistols were, well, standard issue, nothing noteworthy about them at first glance, he had seen them in the documentation. The second rifle was impressive in size however, probably very long distance given the length of the barrel. He could see that being useful.

The third held some more exotic heavy weapons, not standard issue, but tools and devices specialised forces like Elemantarists or some Pyromancers would use.

The fourth furthest from him held a few staffs, and he stepped a bit closer to see better. They were at least as long as he was tall, and each increasingly decorated, with the first showing the very basic standard skeleton model, and the last being a gorgeous piece of art, sparkling in the white light of the classroom.

You have already learned the basic concepts of how to assemble these. Danodeno said. But you have to have purpose! He almost snapped the last word as if to etch it into the young wizards’ minds. A tool like this is only as good as the mind that created it and the purpose it was created for. Are they meant to focus or scatter? To amplify or reharmonize? What is the scope of the purpose it is designed for? How long does it have to be able to withstand the energy directed from your own hands, or that of the wizard you’re making it for? And how much energy is that? Fail to consider any one of these questions and your design will fail and it may cost someone their existence. The graveness in his voice left no room for doubt that it was a very serious warning. That this was a great responsibility.

I want each of you to choose one of these channelling devices, study it, hold it, test it. Work back to answer the questions I gave you. By the end of this cycle I want each of you to be able to tell me the purpose and details of your chosen device. You may take them with you for quiet study, but you’re not allowed to use them outside the testing chambers, is that clear?

Everyone confirmed.

Very well, then choose your subject and I’ll see all of you here at the end of this cycle. I’ll be here to answer any question that may arise and you can discuss amongst each other, but I implore you to take on this task on your own.

Some nodded and everyone stepped to this or that box to choose their favourite channelling device. Zenozarax only made a step forward and took the heavily ornamented staff. It was heavier than he had expected, but the weight was evenly distributed, a large and heavy decorative pommel on the end of the staff countered the weight at the top, making it not too top heavy.

It’s a good pick for you, Danodeno said approvingly as he had walked from student to student and reached Zenozarax. A complicated one, as you undoubtedly already spotted.

Zenozarax nodded with a brief glance to Danodeno then back to the staff. He let his fingers gently brush over the smooth grip area.

There are distinct access points here, here and — he frowned as he let the faintest glimmer of magic trickle against the surface, causing miniscule reactions of the underlying magic in the staff. Here? About eight, probably missing one or two right now.

Hmhm.

So probably several separate functions. It’s a little bit like flute playing isn’t it?

“You play the flute?”

“No.”

Well in that case, I suppose it’s probably just like it. Danodeno said perfectly dry and flat. I won’t fault you if you don’t find all of them, but you’re on the right track already, so you have my confidence. A word of warning though, this one can be dangerous. Don’t kill yourself by accident.

Zenozarax rolled his eyes, all of it was dangerous all the time in one way or another. Of course.

And as I said, if you need help or just a hint — don’t raise your nose to me like that young wizard! — I’m here.

I can do it on my own! Zenozarax declared, already making it a challenge.

Then go on, Danodeno replied like giving an order before he was focusing his attention on the others. Some of them who’d need Danodeno’s help a lot more than him.

An hour later he had barricaded himself in one of the test labs only short of actually taking the overdesigned staff apart. He scanned it in every way possible, extracting readings down to the individual composition of the molecules and magical lacing that made up his staff. The infused crystals he put under a resonatic detector that gave him a pretty clear readout of their stored information and functions.

Several hours into his dissection he actually started testing its functions. He only once accidentally short-circuited the staff, which caused a minor, magical explosion, a discharge alarm, and some burns on his fingers — but fortunately it was minor damage that the staff itself was able to easily repair itself. His scorched fingers took a few minutes longer to heal.

It caused not much of a reaction, Danodeno briefly chimed the door asking if everything was alright, waving away some of the blue smoke that greeted him and as Zenozarax confirmed all was a-okay he left again leaving him to his madness.

He found the first three functions he predicted almost without trying — just without any subjects it wasn’t doing anything to show for. It was a sorcerer’s staff, or a necromancer’s, that much was clear to him at this point, the heavy crystals on top meant to spread access to bound constructs or subjects, translating and filtering several inputs into one that was then more digestible interpreted by the sorcerer.

The functions he found were, he assumed, hard coded commands. To confirm his hypophysis, he took his assembled data and the staff with him and left the lab and study area. He briefly saw some of the others talk with each other, figuring their own devices out. They didn’t pay attention to him walking past and he didn’t stop to check in with them.

While walking down the corridor, to the portdoors to the fifth plane and then three chapters down, at 40° ascension, he caught some mildly curious gazes (besides being perfectly normal channelling devices there was rarely a reason to openly carry them around inside of Mezchinhar) but once more nobody cared enough about one eager primal wizard on a quest as to inquire. The staff felt still a little unwieldy, and during his walk he switched it from hand to hand, first holding it, then trying to walk with it like a walking stick, but then reverting back to carry it in his right hand at the point of balance. That felt okay.

Being about halfway into the current cycle, which all primal wizards followed for convenience’s sake, he found Sage Crosix’ class in session with another group of primals.

He didn’t have to knock to make Magister Crosix notice him. Zenozarax. Do you need something? He asked stiffly, the eyes of the other wizards lay on him too.

Yes! Can I use the test-drones? I think this is a sorcerer’s staff— he raised the staff in his hands to show Crosix — and I want to, well, test it out, he said with a grin.

Magister Crosix squinted almost suspiciously for a moment but then said Is Danodeno overseeing this? And Zenozarax confirmed with a nod.

Then yes. We don’t need them currently. Crosix nodded to the passage behind him.

Thank you! Zenozarax quickly passed through the room with an energetic passion having taken his steps.

Don’t blow them up! Crosix called after him.

The testing drones were in a large chamber in which  the floor and ceiling were coated in a white layer of weaved magic. Shielded and properly reinforced the room was made to let nothing, neither explosion or stray signals, from inside get out. And for good reasons as the weaved coating of the walls showed already clear signs of wear and tear. Burn marks on the smooth fabric where this or that construct had crashed into the walls. Damages to the structure that not even the cleaning cycle could make go away. It would be reassembled at some point once the damage got bad enough.

Quickly overlooking the neat rows of drones, resting on their light, oval bodies, the six delicate legs folded underneath them, Zenozarax counted 184 at a glance. Less than the last time he had been here but plenty enough to test the staff.

These were similar to the Talons used by the Order but a lot smaller and naturally, given their purpose, not designed for combat. They still could be dangerous, however, as everything that could move would be.

He called up the access panels and found the dedicated inset for channelling devices.

The panels ask for authorization and he gave them the access code his group had gotten from Danodeno. It was accepted and the constructs turned to life. At once the hall was filled with the low magical hum of 184 drones awakening, rustling, standing up on their thin, insect-like legs that could anchor them to almost all surfaces.

He put the staff into the now glowing inset. The panel chimed, accepting, and after a second the staff itself lit up brightly for another two seconds. During that time, a flash went through each and every of the drones like an invisible wave starting from the inset and ending in the last rows the furthest from him. Each raising up smoothly from their slumber.

That worked! He chuckled to himself, pleased so far.

He took the staff again, disconnecting it from the consoles. It was now linked directly to the drones.

His fingers grabbed the set of access marks he had determined to be the main ones and as he poke them with some magic he gasped.

The information crashing into his mind was still enormous. 184 individual entities that all could sense, see, move and act, twisted into one string of awareness. He had to pause briefly, readjust his mind, then he did it again.

Focussing on the drones he tried to—

And they moved. Not elegantly, but the whole mass suddenly made several uncoordinated steps to the right. (This was exactly where their main danger came from. If told to go somewhere by a wizard they would go there. No matter what was in their path, and if they couldn’t go over they would go through. Paired with the fact that they were still relatively heavy, despite how smoothly they walked, a pile of them could still crush anyone in their path.)

Directing them was a strange feeling, powerful and not at all unpleasant once he had gotten over its somewhat wobbly weirdness.

Soon the entire swarm was smoothly skittering along the floor, climbing the wall, the ceiling and down the other wall. And again and again, then in reverse.

Okay, that’s easy enough. He muttered and resettled the drones back on the floor. He adjusted his fingers and pulsed again. The first few combinations he tried didn’t do anything, then suddenly with another the collective of drones split up down the middle. Another pulse, another separation, now forming four groups. A reverse polarity pulse did exactly what he suspected it to do and the four groups merged into two again.

A next viable combination of access points reformed their formation. Rectangular, triangle, diamond, circular, and a last one, a circle with all of them on the outside facing in.

Ohh, combat sorcery eh? Zenozarax whistled through teeth. These were just simple drones with not much capability beyond moving, and yet the idea of being on the inside of that circle, facing down 184 of them ready to probably tear him apart was an unpleasant enough image. Makes sense, quick access shortcuts in the heat of battle. Not as precise but less straining on the mind. He muttered and left the staff to extend his report.

As a Primal Wizard he of course was not privy to review actual combat data and reports of the Order, however, due to his studies having given him a very good overview of the occupations and rank a wizard could hold he was aware that sorcery was often used offensively as well. He let his imagination fill in the gaps.

Does seem a bit clunky… he mused while he noted down the combinations he had found. He wondered if there could be a more elegant and easier way to fulfill this purpose. One grip. No need for adjustment… hmm.

He glanced suspiciously back at the staff. If it was a combat staff, it ought to have—

He grabbed it again, feeling it up and down, and indeed, holding it with both hands, one further down its spine, he found a second set of access points. There we are. He grinned. He pulsed through them and immediately a warning bounced back, accompanied by a short countdown of 5 seconds as the self-destruct initialised. Yes! If he were to pulse again they would probably immediately explode; Since he didn’t want that he reversed the charge and — nothing happened. — 4 seconds. Oh, shit.

The staff clattered to the ground, 3 seconds, as Zenozarax already leaped to the console, 2 seconds and 184 drones primed to tear themselves apart as violently as possible, he reached out, 1 second, and hit the emergency shut-off.

A crackling hiss came from behind him. For a moment, in shocked anticipation, not even his heart was beating as he still suspected everything to explode around him. Then nothing happened, his heart started beating again and he exhaled deeply.

The mortal fear still tingled within every atom of his being — but despite that, or because of it, he laughed, leaning with his back against the console.

Reaching out with his hand, the staff on the ground wiggled for a moment before promptly snapping back into his hand.

Let’s try that again — with only one! He announced to the drones as his other hand restarted the system again.

*

Danodeno, holding a datatab in his left hand almost accusingly, looked at Zenozarax, who still reeked of burned circuitry.

Crosix tells me you destroyed 4 of his drones.

Well, it wasn’t 184. That has to count for something. Zenozarax said tightly.

I probably should have expected this kind of hands-on approach from you. How close?

I was fine. Zenozarax clicked his tongue, I had it under control.

That close hum? Danodeno scoffed and put the datatab down. He didn’t seem very bothered by the idea that Zenozarax could have potentially killed himself by accident. Which was normal. Zenozarax knew that Primals that were stupid or careless enough to get themself killed inside of Mezchinhar were considered a form of natural selection, making the Soulturner they belong to get back to the drawing board. So to speak. Sometimes Primal Wizards would just disappear from their classes and nobody mentioned it. It was normal. Sometimes there were rumours in the dorms, speaking of accidents or critical faults — but never anything official. It was inconsequential to the rest of them so they didn’t need to know or bother themselves with it.

Did it work? Danodeno asked.

Yes! At once the weariness of fearing a reprimand fell from Zenozarax and he pulled out the datatab he had been recording his finding on. I’m done!

Already? You still have some time. Don’t you want to make sure you really found everything?

I’m pretty sure I did.

If you say so. You’re relieved then.

Thank you.

Use the time to catch up on Vasjano’s readings.

Zenozarax groaned. It seemed like by now all his teachers had conspired to get him to read history.

3

15.04.2023

Making sure to keep the pace of the wizards around him, Zenozarax stepped down from the portpoint. Naturally, he had used the static portals that relayed through Mezchinhar to get to this node of Mezdovat while most of the other, older and higher ranking wizards that arrived used mobile portals of their own. Zenozarax, as a mere primal wizard, was not yet allowed to port around inside of Mezchinhar. Not only out of fear of ripping unwanted holes through the circles, but also due to the fact that he still lacked the speed and ease in his casting and would inevitably hold up the traffic.

He had created portals before and he was relatively good at it, but even he would admit that it wasn’t an easy thing all things considered. His portals still took about five to six seconds to open, which was very slow. Most wizards eventually got that time down to two seconds on average. But he’d still need a lot of practice to get there.

The main node of Mezdovat he had just arrived in seemed busier than usual and so he quickly got up to one of the four node control centres that were evenly spread between the main roads running from the portpoint at 0°, 90°, 180° and 270° ascension. The raised, round platform was constructed about 40 metres away from the central portpoint overlooking the main floor of the node.

In its centre was a dome of panels and information relating to the health and status of this node, and around it facing outwards worked a mix of Filemasters, Pathfinders and probably at least one Medium keeping this thing running smoothly.

Zenozarax waited for a moment as the Filemaster he wanted to talk to was just speaking to another wizard. He picked this one because he had talked to him before and their previous interactions had gone well so far. Maybe that had garnered him some good will. Glancing around, seeing the busying around however made him doubt the Filemaster would even bother to remember him since he was probably seeing thousands of wizards each cycle — but it was worth a try. Once the wizard before him had finally left, Zenozarax stepped close to the platform. Even standing right before it he still had to look up to meet the Filemaster’s eyes in his raised position. The Filemaster didn’t waste time with a greeting but there was a sense of recognition in his face. Or he was just very polite. Hard to tell the difference.

I need this collection, Zenozarax said in the most amiable tone he knew, while he touched the access panel directly before him which safely transferred the information in question as well as his personal identification, filtered through hundreds of security screenings, to the Filemaster’s terminal. In Vaeh please.

At that the Filemaster rose an eyebrow, rechecking something to his left and then said. You should already have access to the collection in Teshvo. I can’t give you the Vaeh one.

Zenozarax’ shoulders dropped in tandem with his hopes. Why not? His tone turned winey in an instant.

I’d assume you are supposed to actually read it and put it to memory yourself, the Filemaster’s voice was  dispassionate to the point of sounding disinterested while he didn’t even look at Zenozarax anymore. Zenozarax knew he wasn’t ignored, just not looked at, but it still felt patronising as hell.

But it takes ages! Zenozarax complained. Heshiva wrote so cursedly much, it’s like he has nothing else to do.

You know that there is no point in debating this with me, yes? The Filemaster said perfectly polite while his eyes followed something on a screen to his side, probably taking care of other requests so as to not waste time with this probably pointless discussion.

Zenozarax groaned. Yeah. Alright. Give me the Teshvo one then.

Finally the Filemaster looked back at him, You need a physical copy?

Yeah, why not. Zenozarax answered peevishly with a grimace grin. It was petty, it was childish, yes he knew all that. But knowing still didn’t keep him from giving into his frustration.

Alright. You can pick it up right here. A set of coordinates for this node appeared on the screen before him, 3rd plane, 12th chapter, 54° ascension, followed by a long room number. It should be ready for you by the time you get there.

Thanks. He didn’t really mean it.

You’re welcome. And the Filemaster couldn’t care less.

*

With the ungodly thick book wedged under his arm Zenozarax lazily strolled back to the dorms.

His was one of 50 alcoves alongside a wide corridor that led to the main corridor on one end and on the other into the communal study node in the centre. All around it, above and below, there were many more corridors exactly like this. Since they were only two thirds into this cycle, almost all of them were empty.

Zenozarax reached his room. Not more than an unimpressive hole in the wall really, with a bed and small storage underneath that held his temporary study equipment, a spare base layer and some small trinkets he had crafted himself. It wasn’t much more than he could carry by the simple fact that even this one alcove  and bed wasn’t really his. He had stopped counting how often his assigned place in the dorms had changed already and he had randomly lost everything he had stored within the previous ones.

The individual alcoves were halfway offset on the opposite side and angled inwards like barbs on a feather, so one wasn’t able to directly stare into the other ones unless one stood right at the entrance, but that was all he had in terms of privacy. There were no curtains or doors. If it wouldn’t have been for the movies and videos out of the multiverse he wouldn’t even think about it as noteworthy.

Zenozarax carelessly threw the heavy book on his bed, followed by his belt and belt pouch, and peeled himself out of the slightly burned robe that still reeked like burned magic. Halfway down the corridor he threw the robe into the reclamation shoot and queued up a new one at the basic summoning circle next to it. It didn’t allow much room for individual expression; He had the choice between some very basic, unicoloured robes and overalls and that was it. For more specialised or even prettier outfits he’d have to either get them himself, or request them from the Weavers. Both would not happen as long as he was still just a primal wizard — so, boring black robe it was.

At least he had found some minor ways of making the plain outfits he had his own; Fashioning himself some self-made small jewellery like the stud in his ear, or the more decorative buckles of his pouch. It didn’t stand out too much and it was a far cry from the fabulous appearances of the likes of Yobiganapati, but he felt good about it nevertheless.

He went back to his alcove and lay down on the bed. After deliberately shoving the book aside with his elbow he pulled a small piece of magic from his pouch that unfolded with a glimmer into his personal datatab.

Naturally, he looked for a cast from Yobiganapati again, but as he found nothing new he went for the next best alternative and spun up one of the movies he had gotten the previous time he had been in Mezdovat. These were from a developed planet in the Varedy Cluster, and they were a little weird. But in a way, all of them were. Strange glimpses into even stranger worlds that were nothing like Mezchinhar. People that acted nothing like the wizard surrounding him.

The movie opened up on a ship in a vast greenish ocean. And once more he found himself getting lost in his imagination. Imagining the smell of the sea, or the feeling of the stormy wind on his face. He had no frame of reference for any of it, making his imagination even more fantastical.

A narrator started to speak, and at first the words didn’t make much sense to him, yet another language from that planet, but with each word spoken the sentences became more clear to him, meaning picked up by context and imagery. Starting with basic nouns like captain and slowly working itself down to the connecting words. It was quicker with this one because he had already picked up two other languages from this planet and there were broad similarities.

The captain, striking the air with his hand, ordered the men to do something with tension in his voice. And Zenozarax found himself quietly repeating his words in that still unfamiliar language. A person of lower rank brought the captain a meal and drink the captain shunned. Food always looked so curious to him. He wondered what it would be like to actually eat it. What it would taste like. He had never eaten or drank anything other than mana — there was no food like that in Mezchinhar. No drinks like that either.

Maybe one day he could go there, too. See the sea. Smell the wind. Maybe speak to them even. Or try their food.

And if not there — there was so much else, so many places, so many not even found yet.

He wanted to see it all.

*

Zenozarax heard the steps walk up to his alcove but ignored them. He was having spare time so nobody should have any reason to bother him. He didn’t even look up from the movie, until a heavy piece of fabric slammed into his face.

Shouldn’t you be with Danodeno? Yoctotyr asked while Zenozarax still cursed and threw his finished and brand-new robe from his face.

Yeah I was, but because I’m amazing I’m already done, Zenozarax said. Now leave me alone. I’m busy.

I can see that, Yoctotyr noted drily. He stood as always very propper, very straight, arms behind his back, the black robe flawlessly clean and the dark hair perfectly combed. Always with that haughty sense of arrogance in his dark eyes under equally dark and distractingly voluminous brows. Just the poster child he was. Well, minus the brows.

And yet you’re still here. Weird.

I wanted to talk to you. About our shared future together.

Okay. Dropping the air of hostility, Zenozarax actually sat up propper. Yoctotyr seemed even more serious than usual.

I know you don’t like me, and to be perfectly candid I feel the same about you. We shouldn’t pretend it to be any other way.

Pretend? When did I ever pretend anything? You’re the one with — He waved his hand at all of Yoctotyr, making him frown. —this whole thing you’re doing. I swear one day those ridiculous brows of yours will just fuse together in the middle if you don’t stop frowning at me all day. I, on the other hand, am for one perfectly balanced in my inward and outward emotional expression.

At that Yoctotyr, betraying his frown, actually scoffed amused. You’re the last wizard here I’d call balanced. Also, please stop doing that.

Zenozarax let his hand drop with a grunt.

Be as it may, we will have to work together, and I’d prefer you not make this an embarrassment for either of us in front of Moldiana.

For you, you mean.

For me. Yes.

See! That’s what I’m talking about — just say that! Don’t give me this polite I’m doing this for us thing. You are worried that I ruin your standing with a Lord Wizard which you perceive as fundamental for the success of whatever purpose and path you aspire to take. That’s what you want to tell me, so just say it!

Yoctotyr considered that for a moment. There was even a hint of surprise, as if he hadn’t expected Zenozarax to point out his motivations this precisely.

Alright. All of that is true.

Thank you! Zenozarax said downright relieved that Yoctotyr was admitting it. Now keep that up and I may even start to like you. It was unlikely, Yoctotyr was seemingly made to be as boring and stuck up as a wizard could possibly be, but hey.

A proposal, then, Yoctotyr said.

Let’s hear it.

We’ll be working together professionally. We will speak to each other truthfully. I will not pretend to like you and you will not stroke the animosity between us unnecessarily.

Unnecessarily is such a vague term—

Zenozarax!

Yes! Okay. Fine. Sounds good.

Also, given your impulsive nature, I will ask of you to trust my judgement. I feel it inevitable that there will come a time where you would want to do something and I may ask you not to. I will promise you I will not speak against you out of spite, but only with good and considered reason.

Zenozarax leaned back against the wall, letting his hands rest folded on the datatab on his stomach as he suspiciously glared at Yoctotyr.

Did Leshodimar tell you to say that?

Yoctotyr hesitated for a moment, and Zenozarax realised that this was the first test of what Yoctotyr had just promised him. Eventually he actually confirmed instead of obscuring the answer in pleasantries. He did.

I see. It stung a little. Of all wizards he would have thought Leshodimar to be upfront with him. Okay.

Okay?

I will try.

Maybe that’s good enough.

A moment of silence lingered between them, then Yoctotyr nodded a brief nod and turned to finally leave Zenozarax in peace. But not without adding,

Finish your reading!

By the lords, does everyone know about that?? Zenozarax called after him, only barely resisting the urge to throw the robe back at Yoctotyr — and he only managed not to do it because, by the time he would have, Yoctotyr was already out of his view.

*

The moment the Lords fell silent to us, the Last Whisper, came utterly unexpected.

There was nothing remarkable about that time, at least not until then.

We had become more already,

We recognize each other as parts of a whole.

Some of us spoke with intentions to each other, conflicting and novel notions of self, but we were still of one mind.

Until suddenly we weren’t.

It was as unremarkable as the times and yet staggering. No bright flash, no explosion, nothing physical happened — but without warning, without preparation, from one moment to another, we were alone. Each of us, suddenly someone, and blind to the others.

To say it was chaos would be false. It was in our minds: disorientation, helplessness, confusion, panic even — but we stayed quiet. For more than an ium nothing changed and nothing happened. Nobody did anything.

I too, waited. Petrified, afraid even I think. The silence was horrifying. I watched the rise and fall of that ium, stared into that light for so long that in the utter silence in my mind I even forgot my own existence — till I heard a voice. The wizard that first spoke to me had no name back then, neither had I.

I now remember them by the name of Iosurt, The one trusted, you will have heard of him. An infamous name, but back then it was his voice that brought me into time. That gave me the name I carry to this day. Heshiva, The lone watcher.

Some still scoff at the word, but we became a people in that moment the lords fell silent. A people made up of individuals who all felt this horrible loneliness. The first real feeling each of us had.

And we didn’t want to feel that way. And so we build. We changed. We tried to fix this loneliness.

And we became what we are today.

Left by the Lords.

But finding comfort within the multitude of our parts. A reminder of what once was. A reminder of what the young wizards now never experienced in the first place.

They just know that loneliness is a plight worth sharing.

Zenozarax’ eyes lingered on that last line in thoughtful contemplation. He had skimmed many of the initial entries in this collection of journals he was supposed to read but at some point he had actually started to read.

Heshiva’s journals were a pain to read. Kept in old Teshvo many of the lines sounded clunky to him, other times they struck him as overly poetic or repetitive. Despite that… There was something interesting here.

Many entries were just musings and thoughts — little in the way of concrete opinions, but more often than not ideas that enticed the imagination and own thoughts. They were less of a concrete telling of any history, but the invitation to think about what made them what they were, to just think about where they came from.

Zenozarax hadn’t given the topic much thought so far, he was here and time only went in one direction and that was forward so that’s where his attention was.

But something about this one stuck with him.

He wondered if this yearning within him might be more than the desire to leave this place and explore. If this something more he wanted, was locked behind becoming who he was supposed to be.

He pondered over the word. Loneliness.

Was he lonely?

There were enough people to talk to, enough other primal wizards, his teachers, Leshodimar too, but he wouldn’t call any of them friends. Not in the way he understood the term. Not in the way he had seen it in the movies he had watched.

He took a moment to really prod and poke the feelings within him. There was a restlessness that had always been with him. There was this yearning for something else. The irritation and strange bitterness Yoctoty’s visit had caused had faded away, being replaced by the unexpected curious interest caused by reading these journals.

He already knew his emotions well enough. They were strong and sometimes overwhelming, and it had been hard to get to terms with them in his first few cycles after having come into time. Caught between fear and confused anger at first, he knew that his start in life had not been ideal. But by now, he knew what he felt and why he felt it, it was all very clear and precise. All but this yearning for something more.

Zenozarax slammed the book shut and after hastily putting on his new robe he quickly left the dormitory.

4

22.04.2023

Can we start right now? Zenozarax asked as he barged into Leshodimar’s laboratory without even announcing himself any other way.

Leshodimar only mildly flinched being so suddenly and unexpectedly interrupted in his work, but as he looked up to Zenozarax there was only eternal patience in his face and the gentle sense of amusement in his tone as he spoke.

Right now?

Yes. Please? Zenozarax bounced slightly on his heels. I need to find something out.

Leshodimar nodded and signed Zenozarax to sit down at the work counter. Zenozarax followed the suggestion, first now glancing through the lab, trying to see if he was interrupting anything important. In the pristine white space he couldn’t spot any hint of any ongoing project — but knowing of Leshodimar’s work he knew there rarely was a time his Soulturner wasn’t working, be it on a new wizard or taking care of the wizards he had build and who hadn’t yet found a suitable Mage to take care of any necessary repairs. So he was sure he was interrupting something anyways even if he didn’t see what it was.

What would that be? Leshodimar asked with a light smile, humouring him.

I read the collection. The Heshiva one, Zenozarax began.

I’m glad to hear that.

Well, some of it at least, and there was this one entry about the Last Whisper and the inherent loneliness it caused within wizards. Do you know the one?

Hmm yes, I think I remember. It’s an interesting perspective is it not? I of course never experienced what the lord wizard speaks of myself, but it seems to hold true as far as I can say.

Does it? Do you remember being a primal wizard? Without your other parts? Did you feel it then?

Now Leshodimar stayed quiet a little longer and for a moment there was the hint of a gleam in the black eyes as he seemingly really had to crunch through some very old memories. I’m not sure. I don’t think so, at least I don’t remember noticing it, not as plainly as he describes it. But I did recognize it retrospectively, once I became truly whole with my first additional part. It does literally change your perspective after all.

Zenozarax listened attentively, nodding along, hanging on his soulturner’s words.

Is there something wrong you want to tell me? Something that doesn’t feel right? Leshodimar then asked gently.

No! Zenozarax said quickly, but then added less hastily, I mean I don’t think anything is technically wrong. I’m just— he paused, sorted his thoughts and said, There is something I need. But I’m no longer sure I know what that is. And now I worry that maybe my eagerness to become a timetraveler is misplaced? That, maybe, this restlessness within me only comes from not being whole yet. And that if I am, I see things more clearly, and I maybe want to do something else after all? He hadn’t planned to say even half of it but suddenly he found himself unable to stop pouring his worried heart out to the only person who would truly listen.

Unfortunately Leshodimar chuckled lightly and Zenozarax felt his heart sink in dismay. But the look on the Soulturner’s face didn’t seem belittling.

You’re so young and already so worried. He turned fully to Zenozarax who was frowning slightly.

Don’t worry too much about it. Your purpose will find you one way or another.

Zenozarax’ frown deepened. The answer sounded too canned, too broad. Leshodimar continued,

You’re a wizard, time is the least of your concerns. You don’t lose anything by doing this, on the contrary. You’ll learn something to take with you, learn something about yourself. And eventually you’ll find your place and purpose that is aligned with what the circle needs you to do.

What would you have wanted me to do? Zenozarax asked and Leshodimar smiled.

You’re a very passionate wizard, if you set your mind to it and learn, you can do anything. It was a very wizard-y answer and probably wildly inaccurate and so Zenozarax dug in deeper.

That’s great. But you must have had some idea of where to put me, right? You made me and Yoctotyr almost side by side, but obviously he’s made to do something completely different.

Well, I wanted you to care. Not that Yoctotyr doesn’t care, he might not show it, but trust me, he does. But you. I wanted you to really feel, and feel deeply. To see time and existence with an open and creative mind that would take on even the greatest of problems as a challenge. All that can help you on many paths. One of them could be to take on the title of Soulturner yourself. It would suit you.

Zenozarax pondered over that idea for a while. I see. That makes sense.

And yet it doesn’t matter.

Oh?

We, Soulturner, don’t have the power to creat you just perfectly tuned for this or that purpose. It doesn’t work like that. We give you a scaffolding, an overwhelming set of parameters your mind is built around. But it does that on its own, even still now. You’re still growing into who you will be. You learn, you observe, you act, you are influenced by the wizards around you. Of course, with careful guidance in your teaching it would be possible to set you on a path, but it wouldn’t guarantee success. Your mind is your own. It belongs to nobody but yourself. That’s the gift given to us by the Last Whisper. Though some of the old wizard might not see it that way, I do think of it as an truly precious gift.

Zenozarax felt an unexpected sense of calm and actually smiled lightly. Leshodimar’s words were like a soothing balm on his restless soul and he truly appreciated them. For the first time in many cycles he felt almost content, sure that things would eventually work themselves out and he would find his place and true purpose.

Thank you, he said and meant it.

You’re welcome.  

*

When they finally began to build his second Part, they weren’t using the chambers of time.

Since this was Zenozarax’ first additional part, and he needed to be present for all of it, there would hardly be any benefit of doing it in the chambers.

It’s not pleasant, actually, Leshodimar said as he walked around the nanite pool. Zenozarax had his hand firmly pressed onto an access panel, his wrist was secured to it and the magic glowed.

How so?

For everyone outside, everyone not in the chambers, the process will appear to take much less time naturally, which is a benefit, especially when it comes to Parts that are critically needed, or have important standings in the Order. But inside, time doesn’t appear to go any faster. You still spend the same amount of time in there as you’d need on the outside, just for the outside you’d be moving very very fast. Leshodimar checked some information dump on the side.

For the Part inside the chamber the slow dragging of the memories received can be quite disorientating. The other way around it’s a constant rush. Managing this imbalance can get rather exhausting.

Can’t you just cut yourself off?

Sure, but that’s not exactly pleasant either, not least of all for the inevitable Reunification Shock. While it is worthwhile getting used to it since you’ll inevitably experience it quite often once you have a warrior, I personally prefer to avoid it when not strictly necessary.

Hm.

Alright, that’s the initial scan done. I’ll adjust some of your attributes for this new Part. Do you know why? Leshodimar asked with a twinkle in his eyes that meant he was in full teacher mode. Zenozarax knew that one well enough by now.

To avoid the Carkevik Effect, double parting. Two active Parts that are exactly the same will create a critical error and render the wizard immobile till either is discontinued, Zenozarax cited while he watched the lights pulsing through the magic of his hand.

Correct. Leshodimar said proudly. Do you have any preferences? And remember what I said, it’s not one to one. It will still be you, naturally, we just need to adjust the way what aspects of you are primarily expressed. Also, I will have to remind you that whatever adjustments are made now will be final. You can change your appearance whenever you want but you can’t change who he is once he has become a part of you.

Zenozarax considered that for a moment before he slowly said, Maybe make him… hm. Can he be a little calmer?

Calmer?

I mean more quiet. Maybe that will make things easier with Yoctotyr and Moldiana. Yoctotyr hates me being loud and— he had raised his free hand again seemingly fishing for words but dropped it with a guilty smile. That.

That is learned behaviour, you got that from someone. Leshodimar smiled. But I hear you. It’s a good start.

*

Of all things, Zenozarax had not expected the monumental task of creating a new Part for himself to be so staggeringly… mundane.

With his left hand still chained to the panel, the magic still happily glowing along, he lay with his chin on his arm and stared into the unsuspecting pool that seemingly did jack-all.

Occasionally he felt involuntary sparks coursing through his own mind, something somewhere happening but he couldn’t really say what that was.

Everytime his mind did that, the nanite pool reacted in kind and sparkled for a moment. It was quite pretty, but not that exciting after the hundredth time.

Sometimes he fell asleep, sometimes Leshodimar was there to alleviate the boredom with some talk.

He brought him some books, one of which was Heshiva’s journals again (apparently suspecting rightfully that Zenozarax hadn’t read them as thoroughly as he was supposed to.) The others were probably recommended by Vasjano, because it was all history stuff. But in lieu of anything else to do, since he was forbidden to use any form of magic that would disrupt the process, he actually read them.

Most of the time Leshodimar was there, he was working, even asking for silence once as it came to infuse and weave in the fine veins of izthra into his new Part. It took a long time. But once Leshodimar was done Zenozarax felt a sense of relief as surely this meant they were almost done.

Why does it take so long? He eventually murmured when once more Leshodimar entered the lab. Is this normal?

Quite so. His Soulturner confirmed. What’s happening there right now is everything you slowly did since you came into time. He is becoming a part of you, building on the parameters given and your own memories and experiences. You’re almost done, but the older you become and the more Parts you have, the longer this process takes. The same principle applies to rebuilding a part of you, though it takes less time since everything needed is kept safe within your other parts. It’s recreating, not building something new, so you don’t need to be chained to it the whole time. But it still takes time.

Great. Zenozarax raised up, straightening his back. At least Leshodimar said he was almost done. That was good. I don’t feel any different?

That’s normal too. He’s not conscious yet. You’ll have to bring him into time yourself once he’s completely built and the initialization process is done. We’ll get to that soon.

And so he went back to waiting.

*

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity since they started, Leshodimar allowed him his hand back and he could stand up again. The occasional pulsing in the pool had completely died down and on the panel at the side he could see the full form of a human body, and an overview and diagram of all the magic weaved into it. Processes and backups of memory stores, the veins of izthra — the shape looked like a human body, but inside there really was nothing human like about it. There were a couple of specialised builds for wizards, like warriors and envoys who’s internal markup looked nothing alike, one made for maximum efficiency, force and durability, the other for absolute mimicry of the human body, able to fool even their own scans. His own was somewhere in between. Standard.

Leshodimar reached into the pool under Zenozarax’ tense stare, and dragged the body out of the thick mass.

The now innate magic fell easily and cleanly from the lifeless body, only here and there being caught in the short fluff of hair. Zenozarax hadn’t really thought about it, somehow he had expected his second part to just look exactly like he himself looked right now, but retrospectively that was a little silly. His second part had hair already, but it was short, like the body had made sure to test if everything was working alright and then stopped, leaving the new Part with a short but even hair and beard growth.

Looking at the new Part he quickly came to the conclusion that it looked really good on him. The hair was a bit too short for his taste, but the beard was a nice feature he hadn’t even considered so far. His own body was stagnant unless he explicitly told it not to be, but as far as he was aware, this body should be most certainly capable enough to allow for some beard growth as well. He’d experiment with that later. Now there were more pressing matters than looking amazing to attend to.

Zenozarax followed Leshodimar to the work table he laid the body on.

It was his face, his body, this was him. Almost.

All seemed to have worked out, Leshodimar said satisfied. Have you decided on a title? Usually Scions get the title of Scholar first, but it’s really up to you.

I’m the Wizard, he’s the Engineer, Zenozarax declared, I like the sound of that.

Good as reason as any, really. Leshodimar documented his choice, it was all logged and saved and his new Part registered as part of his profile.

What now?

Sit here.

More sitting? He groaned, he felt more like walking, acting, doing something. The restlessness in his body was almost too much to bear. But Leshodimar only nodded again to the stool next to the table.

Take his hand. Like this.

Zenozarax did, both palms pressed against each other, his fingers closed around his Engineer’s wrist. Leshodimar gently closed the Part’s lifeless fingers around Zenozarax’ own wrist and they stayed like that.

Questioningly he looked back up to Leshodimar.

Try to connect, like you’d with any access panel.

Okay. He muttered and then focused on the hand in his, cautiously sending a small pulse through his hand.

Something happened.

But he really, really would not be able to truly put into words what that was. His body and more so his mind connected to the lifeless body, magic glowed from the lifeless hand up his shoulder and into the dead lifeless back eyes. And in that very moment his mind was overwhelmed with a sense of relief unknown to him. Or maybe it was joy. Suddenly he was here but also there, remembering opening his eyes.

Suddenly his own existence seemed to make more sense and he finally understood what Leshodimar had said. He hadn’t truly known, but now, in an instant, he couldn’t ever imagine going back. To lose him. Because he was him. He was of two now.

Hey, He muttered as his other Part’s eyelids slightly fluttered, a first breath was taken, reorienting himself in this new point of view.

Zenozarax knew all of that, the Wizard remembered it, he saw it.

Hey, the Engineer echoed in return, but it was a rough and weak sound, spoken by vocal cords that had never spoken before.

It was joy. He felt an overwhelming happiness flood his mind and grinned, and, having to do something to air this ridiculous joy within him he hugged his new and still slightly sluggish Part. He had never hugged anyone, it wasn’t something wizards did, but he had seen it in the movies and in this very moment it just felt right. It was a good feeling. He felt the Engineer’s hand on his back and heard a low chuckle.

Yeah this was good. He was whole.

*

Still grinning from one ear to the other the Wizard sat before Leshodimar, the Engineer beside him, wearing the plain base layer Leshodimar had prepared for him in advance. He was smiling too, but just a little different. He felt the same, naturally, he just displayed it with a little more … calm. He loved that about him. He was amazing! The Engineer’s smile twitched amused at that, as he had to admit the vanity of that thought.

So, how do you feel? Leshodimar asked, for the first time using the you that referred to all of his parts, not just an individual part. He loved the sound of that too!

Great! the Wizard said.

Though it is still a little unfamiliar, the Engineer admitted. They naturally didn’t talk over each other, it was more like as he finished one sentence his other part naturally picked up where he ended.

This will fade very quickly. You seem to handle it very well. Cohesion is already almost perfect. There are a few basic tests I want to run through with you to make sure no unexpected error throws you off, but I am positive you’ll be all set in a tick or two. After that the chance of something going wrong is basically zero unless there is something seriously wrong with you in your basic setup. He looked at the Engineer. Which there isn’t.

Naturally, the Wizard commented, playing with genuine conviction into the sense of pride and confidence in the faultlessness of his work Leshodimar displayed.

There is a latency between what either of you sees and when the other remembers it. Here in Mezchinhar it’s almost negligible, but it’s still there. Leshodimar got two sets of bracelets he put onto each of Zenozarax’ wrists and momentarily the screen behind him picked up some readings — but Zenozarax didn’t know what exactly the bracelets were monitoring.

I noticed that.

Depending on where you are, the delay can be quite dramatic, but you’ll always realign eventually. It’s just a matter of getting used to it, Leshodimar said as he made both of Zenozarax face each other. Raise your hands, both of them. This is a very simple coordination test taking advantage of the low latency here. I want one of you to close your eyes and then, by relying on the memories of your other part, you’ll tap your fingers together, one after another, starting with your pinky finger on each side and ending with the thumb, and repeat. Draw your hands back fully after each tap. Try it.

Zenozarax nodded, and the Wizard closed his eyes as the Engineer kept his open. With one point of view turned dark he turned to the memories of his equal looking back at him and their hands.

The first tap missed, though only by a hair. And so did the second one. By the third the Wizard understood to anticipate the low latency of the memories of his Engineer and predict his own movement before they happened and their middle fingers met in the air.

Keeping his eyes closed he grinned. The index finger was hit, then the thumb, and then from the start with no more misses.

Very good, Leshodimar said happily and the Wizard opened his eyes again.

You won’t spend much time together naturally, even though we live in very peaceful times right now, being present at the same place with both Parts of you is a risk you should try to avoid. As long as only one of you dies you can always bring them back. If you both die, you die.

Yeah I know that. The Wizard sighed. It felt a little unfair, or regretful. Having the Engineer here now felt novel and exciting, he didn’t want to let go of that so soon already.

Well it’s not like I’m gone — we’ll always be together.

You know what I mean. This is amazing.

The Wizard smiled lightly. He understood that he was literally talking to himself, and it just felt perfectly natural.

When will I go? the Engineer asked.

Once we’re done here. Yoctotyr is already with Moldiana. You can join them as soon as you’re ready.

The Engineer frowned and the Wizard said, Why is he already there?

Because he finished all required lessons before you did. Leshodimar said not without a little bit of reproach, and well, yeah okay, that made sense actually.

5

29.04.2023

Zenozarax was actually nervous. It showed little and was one of the first really noticeable differences of the Engineer to the Wizard who was currently pacing up and down the dormitory, driving half the other primal wizards insane since it was already quite late in this cycle and some of them tried to sleep. But sleep was the last thing on his mind right now.

The Engineer was just as nervous, but he managed to stay still, just waiting. He stood with his back to the wall, as close to it as physically possible and out of the way of any wizards walking past. It wasn’t many, and of those none paid him any attention beyond maybe a glance as they spotted him. He wasn’t part of their life and they were of no consequence to him either, and so both sides ignored the other.

Across from him, through the door, the assembled wizards that apparently had overseen his development (though Zenozarax didn’t know who they were) and Lord Wizard Moldiana, were officialising Zenozarax’ scionship under the Lord Wizard.

He wondered if this was always taking so long. What possibly could they be saying to Moldiana right now?

Both of him pondered that question together, and the Wizard brought up a couple of points that may be relevant based on memories that just weren’t as intuitively available to the Engineer as they were to the Wizard who had lived them.

In the end, after thinking about it for too long, he concluded they would probably be telling him about everything. Once he came out here, Moldiana would know every little detail of what he had ever done. Zenozarax wondered if that was good or bad. It couldn’t be that much — he was very young afterall and he never had gotten reeeally into trouble. At least as far as he could judge. But he had no idea what information would have been noted down in his records and what not. Nothing of it should be of interest to anyone. Like blowing up some of Crosix’ Drones. It happened, but would that really be noteworthy? He didn’t think so but he also had no basis to be sure about it.

As a primal wizard he hadn’t even access to the majority of his own records besides what he could coax out of Leshodimar — Lord Wizard Moldiana on the other hand … yeah okay. He probably had to accept the fact that Moldiana would learn about everything he had ever done down to the amount of hours he slept each cycle if they desired to find that out.

Accept that. Plan for it. Expect it. And have damn good justifications to any questions that could arise.

Ah, he hated this, second guessing himself. Dreadful.

Suddenly a low chime went through the corridor and the lights turned from the neutral cold white to a warm pulsing amber.

Oh you got to be kidding me, not now! They could be coming out any moment! He complained into the empty hallway and, naturally, Mezchinhar ignored him. Momentarily the whole corridor got flooded in a bright glistening mist that sparkled in the warm light.

Knowingly Zenozarax held his breath, but not without a deep frown of annoyance as the glitter of magical dust swept through the corridor. It tickled and lightly pinched at his skin and clothes, and he blinked a couple of times as the dust crept into his eyes. It didn’t hurt, it wasn’t even really uncomfortable. Even if he were to breathe in the fine matter, his body would just repurpose it for its own needs so there was no harm to him at all. It was just really irritating right about now.

But, on the bright side, he would be squeaky clean when meeting Moldiana. That could be considered an upside to getting randomly caught in Mezchinhar’s automated cleaning cycle.

The mist settled and vanished, leaving a faint scent of electricity in the air. Then the light turned white again.

Now sterile clean, perfectly decontaminated and just a little bit testy he continued to wait. After a few minutes he even eased the frown on his face that was to tell Mezchinhar of his irritation.

The frown disappeared completely as eventually the door opened and Lord Wizard Moldiana stepped out of the room where the committee had officially confirmed his scionship.

Moldiana was tall, almost unnaturally so, and built lean and pleasantly shaped. He was also one of the most beautiful beings Zenozarax had ever seen, either in Mezchinhar or his studies of the Multiverse. Neither his face nor body gave any clear indication of masculinity or femininity - falling deliberately between the two to create a face that could be either by the smallest change in light and angle. His black hair was short cropped, almost to the skin.

Delicate but plentiful amounts of jewellery made his presence a spark of wonder and grace. Long and swirling circles of silver bands decorated his ears, a silver collar draped out into a set of two rows of necklaces sparking with white crystals. The same kind of gem decorated the bands on his arms and the little chains on his belt. Around his figure a light blue cloak, decorated with silver and white embroidery, moved with the same ethereal slowness as Moldiana himself did.

Every single piece of his appearance seemed to be carefully and deliberately chosen to fit and compliment each other. The areas of heavy detail in the jewellery were a daze, but we’re broken up with calm spaces of straight and neutral colours of white and black.

Zenozarax was in awe as Moldianas actual physical presence let any static depiction he had seen of him previously pale in comparison. But in a strange moment of utter clarity and full understanding of his own emotional frame of mind he realised that it wasn’t just Moldiana’s physical appearance — but almost more importantly what he represented to him. He was the wizard that would lead him out of Mezchinhar and open up the vastness of the multiverse to him. The excitement seemed to tremble within every atom of his being. His Wizard was with his memories, sharing the enthusiasm.

He did first realise that he was very unashamedly staring when he met Moldianas pitch black eyes that looked at him with eternal calm …but also expectantly.

Lord Wizard Moldiana!! Zenozarax cleared his throat and straightened up some more. It’s an honour!

Ah, so you can speak. Moldiana spoke softly, but not weakly. As if even in these inconspicuous words lay wisdom accumulated over aeons. I was already wondering if they assigned me the wrong scion.

Zenozarax frowned slightly. Why is that?

I was warned you’d be particularly outspoken. Please,  follow me.

Zenozarax did as he was told, while he felt an instant surge of irritation while keeping up with Moldianas long and elegant steps. Did Yoctotyr say that?

Indeed he did. Moldiana glanced at him, there wasn’t a smile on his face, but there was no judgement in it either. This angers you?

I— he fell abruptly silent, then said, No. I should have expected it.

Please, do speak your mind. What did you want to say?

Zenozarax gritted his teeth. This was a despicable question and he felt no matter what he could truthfully answer would only come across as juvenile whining. A great first impression. But Moldiana expected an answer.

I don’t like it when people talk behind my back about me.

That amused Moldiana. But the old wizard gave no indication as to why, instead he said,

I value outspokenness in the Scions I have. I don’t require much of you, but where I will take no compromise is this: I want you to speak true and with purpose. Do not deceive and do not obscure. At least when you talk to me. I am your teacher now, and will ask that you honour this relationship with as much respect and trust as I will grant you. Mistakes can be rectified — lies can not. They always leave a stain.

Zenozarax nodded, I understand.

You will, certainly. One day, Moldiana said wistfully and then added, There is one thing you should never forget, young wizard. If you talk to me, to Yoctotyr, or any other wizard, choose your words and the purpose behind them carefully. Because we are eternal and we don’t forget.

They reached the nearest port point and Moldiana opened up a portal with an almost dreamlike wave of his left hand.

Deliberate. That was the word. Every movement the old wizard did seemed purposeful and deliberate. Like every action was just part of an old and long perfected dance.

The portal opened almost the instant it was created with a clean and quiet snap.

And Zenozarax, his heart fluttering with excitement, followed Moldiana, entering a new part of his life.

They arrived in the command centre of a ship and with wide eyes he tried to take all of it in at once. It was a beautiful marvel of magic — every surface was sleek and pristine, a matte and elegant white, infused with gently curved accents of azure blue. The vibrant pop of colour was so novel to him that first now he realised the blandness of the place he had just come from. Even the very air seemed to hum with the promise of magical adventures.

In the middle of the command centre, a hologram basked the entire room in a swirl of dancing colourful lights of a galaxy that slowly rotated before him. The shimmering stars seemed to sparkle all around the room, inviting him to look closer and let himself be drawn into its depths.

The soldiers around acknowledged his arrival but keep to their tasks. Their expressions were nothing but focused and well aware of the power and responsibility they were entrusted with, guiding their path into the unknown reaches of space.

The untapped expanse that now opened up before him was almost too much to grasp and even though he knew the soldiers had no sense of awe or excitement he still perceived them as eager and hopeful. It almost seemed to him like Moldiana had imbued the ship with a sense of wonder and possibility that ran through the soldiers as well. He was part of something amazing now, something that would change histories and shape the future of the universes they would find.

Yoctotyr was there, across the room past the hologram, wearing a white uniform. He looked at him with his eternal frown and gave him a curt nod. But even Yoctoty’s presence couldn’t dampen the excitement.

He looked back into the vast display of space sparkling before him and it filled his heart with awe.

He was ready, eager to explore, to discover, push past the boundaries of what they knew and delve into the endless freedom of unexplored space. Because right now, right here on this ship, Zenozarax was sure he was exactly where he should be.